“I'd be ashamed to be seen with you, so I would. You're not fit to be seen with decent people.”
This sharp line comes from Bessie Burgess, a fiercely Protestant street vendor, aimed at one of her neighbors—likely the more "respectable" Nora Clitheroe—during one of the many quarrels that break out in Seán O'Casey's 1926 play *The Plough and the Stars*. The story unfolds in Dublin during the 1916 Easter Rising, highlighting the stark contrast between nationalist ideals and the harsh reality of working-class life. Bessie's insult serves as a tool for social shaming: in the cramped confines of the tenements, respectability is one of the few forms of currency that the poor have, and characters vigilantly monitor each other's moral standing. The irony O'Casey weaves is striking—Bessie, looked down upon by her neighbors as a loud, drunken loyalist, turns out to be the most genuinely selfless character in the play, sacrificing herself to protect Nora. This line foreshadows a significant theme: those who loudly call out others' unworthiness often fail to see their own faults, while those labeled as "unfit" may possess the greatest humanity. It also reflects O'Casey's broader critique of how poverty and ideology undermine community solidarity.
Bessie Burgess · to Nora Clitheroe (likely) · Tenement quarrel scene, Act I or Act II
“It's a curious way to demonstrate your love of your country — by blowing it to bits.”
This line is spoken by Bessie Burgess, though it’s more commonly attributed to Nora Clitheroe, in Sean O'Casey's 1926 play *The Plough and the Stars*. The quote is primarily linked to Nora, the young wife of Jack Clitheroe, who is a commandant in the Irish Citizen Army. It occurs during the play's rising action as the men around her become more passionate about armed rebellion and the sacrifices of nationalism. Nora, trying desperately to keep her husband from joining the Easter Rising, expresses a bitter irony: that destroying the very land and people you profess to love is a strange — even absurd — way to demonstrate patriotism. This line captures O'Casey's critical view of Irish revolutionary nationalism. While other playwrights and poets celebrated the 1916 Easter Rising as a noble sacrifice, O'Casey emphasizes the human toll on ordinary civilians, particularly women. The quote highlights the play's central conflict between ideological notions (the nation, the cause) and the realities of daily life (love, family, survival), making it one of the most impactful anti-war statements in the Irish dramatic tradition.
Nora Clitheroe · Act II · The pub / street scene during the political meeting
“There's no reason to bring religion into it. I think we ought to have as great a regard for religion as we can, so as to keep it out of as many things as possible.”
This sardonic line is delivered by **Fluther Good**, the talkative Dublin tradesman, in Sean O'Casey's tragicomedy *The Plough and the Stars* (1926). It appears during the tenement-house scenes, likely in Act I or Act II, where characters engage in a heated debate about politics, nationalism, and morality leading up to the 1916 Easter Rising. Fluther's remark showcases a brilliant comic irony: he professes to *respect* religion by deliberately keeping it out of serious conversation, accidentally revealing the tangled, contradictory reasoning that O'Casey observed in Dublin's working-class life. Thematically, this quote highlights O'Casey's critique of how high ideals — whether religious, nationalistic, or otherwise — are often brought up in rhetoric yet kept at arm's length from the harsh realities of poverty and conflict. The line also illustrates O'Casey's talent for tragicomic dialogue: Fluther comes across as sincere and even devout while making a logically absurd statement. It encourages audiences to reflect on how frequently grand principles (like faith and patriotism) are used as slogans rather than genuinely embraced — a tension that propels the entire play toward its heartbreaking conclusion.
Fluther Good · Tenement common area, pre-Rising Dublin neighbourhood debate (Act I or Act II)
“You lost what little sense you had an' you took a little risk, an' now you're payin' for it.”
This line is from Sean O'Casey's 1926 tragicomedy *The Plough and the Stars*, set during the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin. It's spoken by Bessie Burgess, a sharp-tongued Protestant living in a tenement, likely directed at Nora Clitheroe amid the chaos of the Rising. The remark captures the play's harsh, unsentimental perspective: romantic idealism—whether driven by nationalism or personal recklessness—comes with a heavy cost. O'Casey often portrays Bessie as an antagonist, but she articulates some of the play's most brutally honest truths. The line is significant thematically because it challenges the glorification of heroic sacrifice that was prevalent in Irish nationalist discourse at the time. O'Casey emphasizes that ordinary people, especially the women left behind in the tenements, bear the true burden of political and military recklessness. The blunt, everyday language ("you lost what little sense you had") removes any sense of nobility, presenting the Rising not as martyrdom but as reckless folly with lasting human consequences—a viewpoint that sparked considerable controversy during the play's premiere at the Abbey Theatre.
Bessie Burgess · to Nora Clitheroe · Act III / Act IV, tenement during the Easter Rising
“Fluther: God, it's a terrible thing to be born a woman.”
This line is spoken by Fluther Good, a self-important tradesman living in a Dublin tenement, in Seán O'Casey’s 1926 tragicomedy *The Plough and the Stars*. He delivers this remark amidst the chaos and grief overwhelming the women of the tenement — especially Nora Clitheroe — as the 1916 Easter Rising tears families apart. Fluther, who is usually comic and blustery, shows a rare moment of genuine empathy here: he recognizes the suffering that falls heavily on women who have no control over the political or military choices that destroy their homes and loved ones. Thematically, this line strikes at the core of O'Casey’s critique of romantic nationalism. While men romanticize revolution and glory, women like Nora, Bessie Burgess, and Mrs. Gogan face the harsh, brutal realities — loss, displacement, and madness. Fluther's straightforward observation, coming from a character who typically lacks reflection, adds extra ironic weight: even he can see the injustice, yet neither he nor the other men take action to change it. The quote thus reinforces O'Casey’s anti-war, humanist message and his compassion for the working-class women of Dublin.
Fluther Good · Dublin tenement during the 1916 Easter Rising
“We're all going to die, so we might as well die for something.”
This line is delivered by The Covey (or a nationalist character) in Sean O'Casey's *The Plough and the Stars* (1926), a tragicomedy set against the backdrop of the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin. The sentiment encapsulates the passionate revolutionary idealism that O'Casey both depicts and critically examines throughout the play. Characters caught up in the fervor of Irish nationalism hold the belief that sacrificing their lives for Ireland's freedom is a noble, perhaps even destined, fate — turning the universal truth of death into a rationale for violent sacrifice. However, O'Casey presents this rhetoric with irony: the play consistently highlights the devastating human toll, particularly on working-class women like Nora Clitheroe and Bessie Burgess, who are left to mourn, endure, and die while the men pursue lofty ideals. Thus, the quote serves as a thematic pivot: while it appears to be an inspiring call to martyrdom, in context it reveals how political language can romanticize death and obscure the pain of everyday people. It challenges audiences to consider whether any cause can truly justify the loss of human life.
Nationalist character (attributed to revolutionary sentiment in the play) · Act II or Act III · Pub scene / street scenes during the Easter Rising
“Ireland was born in a fever and has never been well since.”
This sardonic line comes from the character Covey in Sean O'Casey's 1926 play *The Plough and the Stars*, which is set against the backdrop of the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin. Covey, who identifies as a Marxist and cynic, delivers this remark as a dismissive take on Irish nationalism and the romantic ideals that push his fellow tenement-dwellers toward rebellion. By portraying Ireland's political identity as a chronic illness fueled by intense revolutionary fervor, O'Casey uses Covey to voice skepticism about the glorified narrative of Irish independence. This quote is thematically significant because it highlights the central tension in the play: the disparity between the lofty, patriotic language of the nationalist movement and the harsh, everyday struggles of ordinary working-class Dubliners. O'Casey himself had mixed feelings about the Rising, and this line sharpens his critique—that Ireland's revolutionary "fever" did not create a thriving nation, but one constantly shaken by ideology, violence, and unmet expectations. It also hints at the tragedy that ensues as the characters become embroiled in a conflict that ultimately devastates their community instead of freeing it.
The Covey · Tenement setting during the Easter Rising period
“Cover it up, cover it up; hide it from the eyes of men, and weep over it yourselves.”
This painful line is delivered by Bessie Burgess in Sean O'Casey's 1926 tragicomedy *The Plough and the Stars*, which takes place during the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin. Bessie, a Protestant unionist living in a tenement, has been in conflict with her nationalist neighbors throughout the play. She speaks this line toward the end, after Nora Clitheroe's newborn baby has died and Nora herself has experienced a mental breakdown. The phrase "cover it up" carries significant weight: it refers both to the deceased infant and serves as a harsh critique of the romanticized view of revolution. O'Casey uses Bessie—who is not part of the nationalist movement—as a moral voice, compelling the audience to acknowledge the human cost obscured by patriotic language. This line is thematically important because it encapsulates O'Casey's primary anti-war message: that fervent ideology often demands that suffering be hidden or glorified, leaving ordinary women to mourn in solitude. It foreshadows Bessie's own tragic death shortly after, intensifying her condemnation of the Rising.
Bessie Burgess · Act IV · The tenement room; aftermath of Nora's breakdown and the death of her child
“Nora: I'd rather have Jack a coward than a corpse.”
This line is spoken by Nora Clitheroe in Seán O'Casey's 1926 play *The Plough and the Stars*. It’s directed at those around her who romanticize the Easter Rising and military sacrifice. Nora is the young wife of Jack Clitheroe, a captain in the Irish Citizen Army, and she desperately wants to keep him out of the fighting. In a world dominated by nationalist fervor and the idealization of dying for Ireland, Nora's blunt statement challenges the glorified mythology surrounding heroism. She refuses to sugarcoat her fear and grief with patriotic rhetoric — all she wants is for her husband to come home alive. This line is thematically significant because it highlights the human cost of political idealism, a theme O'Casey explores throughout the play. While male characters (and society at large) equate bravery with armed rebellion and view death as glorious, Nora emphasizes the personal, domestic, and emotional realities of war. Her words reveal the conflict between nationalist ideals and individual human experiences, making her one of the most powerful anti-war voices in Irish drama. The line also foreshadows the tragedy to come, as Jack's dedication to the cause ultimately shatters their life together.
Nora Clitheroe · to surrounding characters / general · Act II or Act III — Nora pleading against Jack's involvement in the Rising
“The Covey: There's only one war worth havin' — th' war for th' economic emancipation of th' proletariat.”
This line comes from **The Covey**, a young, self-proclaimed Marxist and cousin of Jack Clitheroe, the main character in **Seán O'Casey's** 1926 tragicomedy *The Plough and the Stars*. The Covey makes this statement during one of the tenement scenes—most likely **Act II**, set in a pub—where political debates erupt among working-class Dubliners on the eve of the 1916 Easter Rising. He dismisses the fervor of Irish nationalism in favor of a focus on class struggle, echoing phrases from the socialist pamphlets he frequently cites.
Thematically, this line is crucial as it highlights the ideological conflict at the play's core: **nationalism versus socialism**. O'Casey uses The Covey to explore whether the Rising benefits ordinary workers or simply replaces one type of oppression with another. Ironically, The Covey's rigid adherence to doctrine is itself mocked—he comes across as pompous and ineffective, reflecting O'Casey's skepticism toward *all* grand ideological concepts. Ultimately, the quote prompts audiences to consider which "cause" is truly worth dying for, a question the play addresses with a focus on the devastating human toll rather than political victory.
The Covey · Act II — a pub near the GPO, Dublin, during the Easter Rising mobilisation