Masters of the Mood

FRANCES: I hope you won’t hold this again me now but...I’m Protestant, don’t you know?

DEVIN:  Why would I hold that again ye?

FRANCES: Well, contrary to the held belief, we are not thick down here to the troubles up above, and I thought you might have an issue. 

DEVIN: Sure isn’t my Imogen a Prod too?

FRANCES: Oh, I did not know that.

DEVIN: Anyway, did you just conclude that I was a Catholic all by yourself? I sure as hell didn’t tell you.

FRANCES: I have a way of sniffing it off a person – I don’t mean sniffing the Catholic off a person, what I mean is, I can sniff the character off you, or defining aspects of it.

DEVIN: That’s a mighty fine skill you have.  We could use you up above for sniffing out our foes for us because nobody knows who’s who anymore.  Everyone’s walking around on eggshells all the time.

FRANCES: I thought yous would be married and all being you’re a Catholic?  Have you asked her yet?

DEVIN:  I don’t think that’s any of your business.

FRANCES:  My son’s married.  He’s about your age.  And to a young Catholic girl, I should add.  They’re a mixed pair like yourselves. Though I told them I had no qualms about them living in sin for a while.  We’re Protestants.  But they made their choice.  Took the bull by the horns.

DEVIN: Nice to know.

FRANCES: You’re quite chirpy...for a Northerner.

DEVIN: Oh?

FRANCES:  It’s just you’re all so very dismal and woebegone usually, those I have met before.  Of course, I would say we are all of us on this island gifted when it comes to dismal and woebegone but I always took you for masters of the mood up there...Jesus...it’s rainy out there now, isn’t it?  I said, it’s heavy rain out there now, isn’t it?  Brennan!  Mr. Brennan!

MR. BRENNAN: Huh?

FRANCES:  Didn’t you hear me?  I said it’s heavy rain out there now, isn’t it?

MR. BRENNAN:  Indeed.

DEVIN: I think he thought you were talking to me.

FRANCES: Not at all.

DEVIN: Well, right now you’re standing over here and you’re clearly in the middle of talking to me.  And he’s over there.  Anyone would think the comment was directed at me.

FRANCES:  Go away with that!  I clearly arched my head in a way to indicate a swerving in my remarks.

DEVIN:  What’s his story anyway?  He doesn’t say a word.

FRANCES:  Ah, he hasn’t a set of balls on him at all, that one.  A dummkopf.

DEVIN: Sorry---dumb cunt?

FRANCES: No, dummkopf!  Ah, I’m only messing.  He’s just very timid.  Socially awkward.  It takes some of them longer to lighten up around here.  He’s our newest arrival. Before you two.  Very timid.

DEVIN:  I’m not surprised around yourself.  You are quite...domineering?

FRANCES: People say that but they’re missing the whole picture when it comes to me.  I’ll have you know I’ve been studying Zen for as long as you’ve been alive.  Or thereabouts.  I embarked on the quiet pilgrimage before it was even a thing.   

DEVIN: Zen?  What kind of a thing is it?

FRANCES: One is not inclined to say usually.  But we could all do with a bit more of it.

DEVIN: Oh well, now that you’ve explained, sign me up.

FRANCES: You can ask Elder for the documents.

DEVIN: What—there are actually documents?

FRANCES:  I’m only messing.  There’s your unintended over there.  She’s a beauty, that she is.  She’ll be over here interviewing me in a minute.  I promise I won’t say a word.

DEVIN: About what?

FRANCES:  Regarding your nuptials. 

DEVIN: Why would you talk about that?  Sure we’ve only been together about a year.

FRANCES:  My boy was courting for only a month and a day before he popped the question.

DEVIN: What a prince.

FRANCES:  Better believe it.

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