Three Wonder Plays

In Short

This collection features three plays—The Dragon, Aristotle’s Bellows, and The Jester—that blend traditional Irish storytelling with sharp, satirical wit. Each play explores the disruptive, often humorous consequences when the ordinary world collides with supernatural forces, ancient curses, and sudden enchantments. Through these tales of kings, cooks, and wandering performers, the writing captures a world where the boundaries between reality and imagination remain porous. These plays have endured because they balance genuine folk charm with a sophisticated, light-handed critique of human folly and the rigidity of tradition.

The Story

In The Dragon, the King of Burren and his household are thrown into a panic by an astrologer’s prophecy that a monstrous sea-serpent is coming to devour the Princess Nuala. The Queen, more concerned with social standing than the girl’s safety, insists that Nuala must be married immediately to escape her fate. Amidst the chaos, a mysterious cook named Manus arrives, claiming descent from noble roots and brandishing the power of a magician. While the King and Queen bicker over etiquette and the impending doom, Nuala falls in love with the disguised Manus. When the dragon finally arrives, the Princess appears to die from the sheer terror and heartbreak of the situation. However, the Prince of the Marshes—a timid character who undergoes a quiet transformation—sacrifices his own magical leaves from the Tree of Power to restore her. Manus defeats the beast, revealing his true worth as a hero who uses both kitchen wit and courage to save the day.

Aristotle’s Bellows shifts the focus to a domestic dispute in a small household. A bickering family, led by the perpetually grumpy Conan, discovers an enchanted pair of bellows that can bestow sudden, overwhelming changes upon whoever is hit by their "blast." The mother, who has lost her memory, uses the bellows to regain her past, but the resulting chaos turns the household upside down. Celia, a quiet girl, becomes a frantic, perfectionist housekeeper, while others are shifted into new, often insufferable states. As the family realizes that these magical alterations have only created new misery, they frantically seek a way to undo the spell. They eventually discover that reversing the charm requires a simple act of turning the bellows, restoring everyone to their original, albeit flawed, selves, proving that one’s natural character is preferable to a forced, magical improvement.

Finally, The Jester explores the lives of young princes under the strict, joyless tutelage of a Guardian. The boys are trapped in a cycle of rote learning and dull discipline until a ragged, wandering Jester enters their walls. Through his presence and their subsequent exposure to an Ogre, the boys are momentarily freed from their stifling education. They begin to exhibit wild, rebellious behaviors, much to the horror of their elders. The play culminates in a mock trial where the adults attempt to enforce outdated, nonsensical laws on the boys. The drama highlights the tension between the imaginative, chaotic spirit of youth and the rigid, suffocating expectations of an adult world that has long forgotten how to play.

How It Unfolds

The prophecy of destruction The King and his court are alerted by a cranky astrologer that a dragon is bound for their home, specifically hunting for the Princess. This sets off a frantic attempt to marry her off, as the Queen believes a wedding ring might serve as a magical shield against the monster.

The arrival of the cook Manus enters the household, presenting himself as a mere cook but carrying an air of command and mysterious magical connections. His presence challenges the King’s authority and forces the household to confront its own incompetence and fear.

The death and rebirth The dragon arrives, and the Princess succumbs to the pressure of the moment, dying of grief. The Prince of the Marshes, stepping beyond his own cowardice, provides the magical remedy that revives her, allowing Manus to triumph.

The discovery of the bellows In the second play, the family finds an ancient, magical tool that triggers abrupt shifts in personality. The household is immediately plunged into a whirlwind of unnatural behaviors, demonstrating the dangers of meddling with the natural order.

The reversal of the charm The family members, unhappy with their forced transformations, learn that the spell can be undone with a simple counter-motion. They collectively return to their normal lives, accepting their imperfections rather than living under a false, enchanted state.

The awakening of the princes In the final play, the appearance of the Jester disrupts the princes’ rigid education. Their sudden burst of rebellion against their Guardian reveals the emptiness of their previous lives and the desperate need for wonder.

The People

Nuala is the centerpiece of the first play, a young woman treated like a pawn by her stepmother but possessing a quiet strength that recognizes the courage in others. Her father, the King, is a man more interested in his dinner than his duties, constantly trying to avoid conflict. Manus, the cook, is the primary agent of change; his disguise as a common laborer allows him to test those around him before revealing his true, heroic nobility.

In the second play, Conan serves as the engine of discontent, a man who is never satisfied with his lot and believes he can "fix" the world with magic. Celia begins as a passive, singing girl but is transformed into a frantic, cleaning-obsessed force of nature, highlighting the ridiculousness of Conan’s desire for control. The Mother acts as the emotional heart, whose search for her lost memory serves as a touching reminder of the importance of the past.

The Guardian in The Jester is a personification of rigid, dead-end education, clinging to Latin lessons and history books while his charges remain uninspired. The Jester himself acts as the catalyst, a trickster figure who recognizes that life is meant to be experienced rather than merely recited. The Wrenboys and the princes represent the spirit of youth, caught between their natural curiosity and the punishing expectations of the authorities who wish to keep them small.

In Its Own Voice

"What I wouldn't see with my one eye, there's no other would see with three."

The Dall Glic makes this observation while keeping watch for the King, emphasizing the value of his unique, if singular, perspective.

"Beast and bird devour what they find and have no power to change it; but we are Druids of those mysteries, having magic and virtue to turn hard grain to tender cakes."

Manus explains his philosophy of cooking, elevating his craft to an act of ancient, transformative magic.

"I wouldn't feel the weeks long that time!"

The Mother, having regained her memory and the power of the bellows, expresses her desperate need for a companion to hear the stories she has rediscovered.

What It's Really About

These plays explore the tension between the "hard" reality of duty and the "soft" power of imagination. The narrative argument suggests that human beings are fundamentally flawed and that attempts to enforce perfection or order through magic, strict laws, or rigid education are destined to fail. Instead, the plays celebrate the messy, authentic character of individuals. There is a recurring suspicion of "book truth" and high-minded authority, favoring instead the wisdom found in folk songs, shared memories, and the simple, natural rhythms of life. The recurring theme is that while the world is full of dragons and ogres—symbols of external threat or internal stagnation—they are best met with wit, courage, and a healthy dose of laughter.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the blend of folklore, farce, and lyrical prose will find these plays immensely rewarding. They feel like a trip to a rural kitchen where the fire is warm and the storyteller is prone to flights of fancy. The language is rich with the cadences of Hiberno-English, which gives the dialogue a musical, rhythmic quality that is a pleasure to read aloud.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the dialect, which occasionally requires a moment to settle into, as well as the period attitudes toward gender and class, which are very much of their time. The King’s anxiety about his meals and the Queen’s focus on social propriety are archetypal, designed to be laughed at rather than taken as serious character studies. What sticks with you is the playfulness of the construction—the way the author uses the conceit of "magic" to hold up a mirror to the absurdity of daily life. It is an honest, unpretentious work that values the "wild freshness of morning" over the "calm eve" of a life lived by rules. If you value a story that doesn't take itself too seriously but still carries a deep, resonant love for its cultural roots, this collection is a gentle, enduring treat.