by W. B. Yeats
ALEEL. A curse upon it for a meddlesome house! Had it but stayed away I would have known What Queen Maeve thinks on when the moon is pinched; And whether now — as in the old days — the dancers Set their brief love on men.
OONA. Rest on my arm. These are no thoughts for any Christian ear.
ALEEL. I am younger, she would be too heavy for you.
(He begins taking his lute out of the bag, CATHLEEN, Who has turned towards OONA, turns back to him.)
This hollow box remembers every foot That danced upon the level grass of the world, And will tell secrets if I whisper to it. (Sings.) Lift up the white knee; That’s what they sing, Those young dancers That in a ring Raved but now Of the hearts that break Long, long ago For their sake.
OONA. New friends are sweet.
ALEEL. “But the dance changes.
Lift up the gown, All that sorrow Is trodden down.”
OONA. The empty rattle-pate! Lean on this arm, That I can tell you is a christened arm, And not like some, if we are to judge by speech. But as you please. It is time I was forgot. Maybe it is not on this arm you slumbered When you were as helpless as a worm.
ALEEL. Stay with me till we come to your own house.
CATHLEEN (Sitting down) When I am rested I will need no help.
ALEEL. I thought to have kept her from remembering
The evil of the times for full ten minutes; But now when seven are out you come between.
OONA. Talk on; what does it matter what you say, For you have not been christened?
ALEEL. Old woman, old woman, You robbed her of three minutes peace of mind, And though you live unto a hundred years, And wash the feet of beggars and give alms, And climb Croaghpatrick, you shall not be pardoned.
OONA. How does a man who never was baptized Know what Heaven pardons?
ALEEL. You are a sinful woman
OONA. I care no more than if a pig had grunted.
(Enter CATHLEEN’s Steward.)
STEWARD. I am not to blame, for I had locked the gate, The forester’s to blame. The men climbed in At the east corner where the elm-tree is.
CATHLEEN. I do not understand you, who has climbed?
STEWARD. Then God be thanked, I am the first to tell you. I was afraid some other of the servants — Though I’ve been on the watch — had been the first And mixed up truth and lies, your ladyship.
CATHLEEN (rising) Has some misfortune happened?
STEWARD. Yes, indeed. The forester that let the branches lie Against the wall’s to blame for everything, For that is how the rogues got into the garden.
CATHLEEN. I thought to have escaped misfortune here. Has any one been killed?
STEWARD. Oh, no, not killed. They have stolen half a cart-load of green cabbage.
CATHLEEN. But maybe they were starving.
STEWARD. That is certain. To rob or starve, that was the choice they had.
CATHLEEN. A learned theologian has laid down That starving men may take what’s necessary, And yet be sinless.
OONA. Sinless and a thief There should be broken bottles on the wall.
CATHLEEN. And if it be a sin, while faith’s unbroken God cannot help but pardon. There is no soul But it’s unlike all others in the world, Nor one but lifts a strangeness to God’s love Till that’s grown infinite, and therefore none Whose loss were less than irremediable Although it were the wickedest in the world.
(Enter TEIG and SHEMUS.)
STEWARD. What are you running for? Pull off your cap, Do you not see who’s there?
SHEMUS. I cannot wait. I am running to the world with the best news That has been brought it for a thousand years.
STEWARD. Then get your breath and speak.
SHEMUS. If you’d my news You’d run as fast and be as out of breath.
TEIG. Such news, we shall be carried on men’s shoulders.
SHEMUS. There’s something every man has carried with him And thought no more about than if it were A mouthful of the wind; and now it’s grown A marketable thing!
TEIG. And yet it seemed As useless as the paring of one’s nails.
SHEMUS. What sets me laughing when I think of it, Is that a rogue who’s lain in lousy straw, If he but sell it, may set up his coach.
TEIG. (laughing) There are two gentlemen who buy men’s souls.
CATHLEEN. O God!
TEIG. And maybe there’s no soul at all.
STEWARD. They’re drunk or mad.
TEIG. Look at the price they give. (Showing money.)
SHEMUS. (tossing up money) “Go cry it all about the world,” they said. “Money for souls, good money for a soul.”
CATHLEEN. Give twice and thrice and twenty times their money, And get your souls again. I will pay all.
SHEMUS. Not we! not we! For souls — if there are souls — But keep the flesh out of its merriment. I shall be drunk and merry.
TEIG. Come, let’s away.
(He goes.)
CATHLEEN. But there’s a world to come.
SHEMUS. And if there is, I’d rather trust myself into the hands That can pay money down than to the hands That have but shaken famine from the bag.
(He goes Out R.)
(lilting) “There’s money for a soul, sweet yellow money. There’s money for men’s souls, good money, money.”
CATHLEEN. (to ALEEL) Go call them here again, bring them by force, Beseech them, bribe, do anything you like.
(ALEEL goes.)
And you too follow, add your prayers to his.
(OONA, who has been praying, goes out.)
Steward, you know the secrets of my house. How much have I?
STEWARD. A hundred kegs of gold.
CATHLEEN. How much have I in castles?
STEWARD. As much more.
CATHLEEN. How much have I in pasture?
STEWARD. As much more.
CATHLEEN. How much have I in forests?
STEWARD. As much more.
CATHLEEN. Keeping this house alone, sell all I have, Go barter where you please, but come again With herds of cattle and with ships of meal.
STEWARD. God’s blessing light upon your ladyship. You will have saved the land.
CATHLEEN. Make no delay.
(He goes L.)
(ALEEL and OONA return)
CATHLEEN. They have not come; speak quickly.
ALEEL. One drew his knife And said that he would kill the man or woman That stopped his way; and when I would have stopped him He made this stroke at me; but it is nothing.
CATHLEEN. You shall be tended. From this day for ever I’ll have no joy or sorrow of my own.
OONA. Their eyes shone like the eyes of birds of prey.
CATHLEEN. Come, follow me, for the earth burns my feet Till I have changed my house to such a refuge That the old and ailing, and all weak of heart, May escape from beak and claw; all, all, shall come Till the walls burst and the roof fall on us. From this day out I have nothing of my own.
(She goes.)
OONA (taking ALEEL by the arm and as she speaks bandaging his wound) She has found something now to put her hand to, And you and I are of no more account Than flies upon a window-pane in the winter.
(They go out.)
END OF SCENE 2.
SCENE 3
SCENE. — Hall in the house of COUNTESS CATHLEEN. At the Left an oratory with steps leading up to it. At the Right a tapestried wall, more or less repeating the form of the oratory, and a great chair with its back against the wall. In the Centre are two or more arches through which one can see dimly the trees of the garden. CATHLEEN is kneeling in front of the altar in the oratory; there is a hanging lighted lamp over the altar. ALEEL enters.
ALEEL. I have come to bid you leave this castle and fly Out of these woods.
CATHLEEN. What evil is there here? That is not everywhere from this to the sea?
ALEEL. They who have sent me walk invisible.
CATHLEEN. So it is true what I have heard men say, That you have seen and heard what others cannot.
ALEEL. I
was asleep in my bed, and while I slept My dream became a fire; and in the fire One walked and he had birds about his head.
CATHLEEN. I have heard that one of the old gods walked so.
ALEEL. It may be that he is angelical; And, lady, he bids me call you from these woods. And you must bring but your old foster-mother, And some few serving men, and live in the hills, Among the sounds of music and the light Of waters, till the evil days are done. For here some terrible death is waiting you, Some unimagined evil, some great darkness That fable has not dreamt of, nor sun nor moon Scattered.
CATHLEEN. No, not angelical.
ALEEL. This house You are to leave with some old trusty man, And bid him shelter all that starve or wander While there is food and house room.
CATHLEEN. He bids me go Where none of mortal creatures but the swan Dabbles, and there ‘you would pluck the harp, when the trees Had made a heavy shadow about our door, And talk among the rustling of the reeds, When night hunted the foolish sun away With stillness and pale tapers. No-no-no! I cannot. Although I weep, I do not weep Because that life would be most happy, and here I find no way, no end. Nor do I weep Because I had longed to look upon your face, But that a night of prayer has made me weary.
ALEEL (.prostrating himself before her) Let Him that made mankind, the angels and devils And death and plenty, mend what He has made, For when we labour in vain and eye still sees Heart breaks in vain.
CATHLEEN. How would that quiet end?
ALEEL. How but in healing?
CATHLEEN. You have seen my tears And I can see your hand shake on the floor.
ALEEL. (faltering) I thought but of healing. He was angelical.
CATHLEEN (turning away from him) No, not angelical, but of the old gods, Who wander about the world to waken the heart The passionate, proud heart — that all the angels, Leaving nine heavens empty, would rock to sleep.
(She goes to chapel door; ALEEL holds his clasped hands towards her for a moment hesitating, and then lets them fall beside him.)
CATHLEEN. Do not hold out to me beseeching hands. This heart shall never waken on earth. I have sworn, By her whose heart the seven sorrows have pierced, To pray before this altar until my heart Has grown to Heaven like a tree, and there Rustled its leaves, till Heaven has saved my people.
ALEEL. (who has risen) When one so great has spoken of love to one’ So little as I, though to deny him love, What can he but hold out beseeching hands, Then let them fall beside him, knowing how greatly They have overdared?
(He goes towards the door of the hall. The COUNTESS CATHLEEN takes a few steps towards him.)
CATHLEEN. If the old tales are true, Queens have wed shepherds and kings beggar-maids; God’s procreant waters flowing about your mind Have made you more than kings or queens; and not you But I am the empty pitcher.
ALEEL. Being silent, I have said all, yet let me stay beside you.
CATHLEEN.No, no, not while my heart is shaken. No, But you shall hear wind cry and water cry, And curlews cry, and have the peace I longed for.
ALEEL. Give me your hand to kiss.
CATHLEEN. I kiss your forehead.
And yet I send you from me. Do not speak;
There have been women that bid men to rob
Crowns from the Country-under-Wave or apples
Upon a dragon-guarded hill, and all
That they might sift men’s hearts and wills,
And trembled as they bid it, as I tremble
That lay a hard task on you, that you go,
And silently, and do not turn your head;
Goodbye; but do not turn your head and look;
Above all else, I would not have you look.
(ALEEL goes.)
I never spoke to him of his wounded hand, And now he is gone.
(She looks out.)
I cannot see him, for all is dark outside. Would my imagination and my heart Were as little shaken as this holy flame!
(She goes slowly into the chapel. The two MERCHANTS enter.) FIRST MERCHANT. Although I bid you rob her treasury, I find you sitting drowsed and motionless, And yet you understand that while it’s full She’ll bid against us and so bribe the poor That our great Master’ll lack his merchandise. You know that she has brought into this house The old and ailing that are pinched the most At such a time and so should be bought cheap. You’ve seen us sitting in the house in the wood, While the snails crawled about the window-pane And the mud floor, and not a soul to buy; Not even the wandering fool’s nor one of those That when the world goes wrong must rave and talk, Until they are as thin as a cat’s ear. But all that’s nothing; you sit drowsing there With your back hooked, your chin upon your knees.
SECOND MERCHANT. How could I help it? For she prayed so hard I could not cross the threshold till her lover Had turned her thoughts to dream.
FIRST MERCHANT, Well, well, to labour. There is the treasury door and time runs on.
(SECOND MERCHANT goes Out. FIRST MERCHANT sits cross-legged against a pillar, yawns and stretches.)
FIRST MERCHANT. And so I must endure the weight of the world, Far from my Master and the revelry, That’s lasted since — shaped as a worm — he bore The knowledgable pippin in his mouth To the first woman.
(SECOND MERCHANT returns with bags.)
Where are those dancers gone? They knew they were to carry it on their backs.
SECOND MERCHANT. I heard them breathing but a moment since, But now they are gone, being unsteadfast things.
FIRST MERCHANT. They knew their work. It seems that they imagine We’d do such wrong to our great Master’s name As to bear burdens on our backs as men do. I’ll call them, and who’ll dare to disobey? Come, all you elemental populace From Cruachan and Finbar’s ancient house. Come, break up the long dance under the hill, Or if you lie in the hollows of the sea, Leave lonely the long hoarding surges, leave The cymbals of the waves to clash alone, And shaking the sea-tangles from your hair Gather about us.
(The SPIRITS gather under the arches.)
SECOND MERCHANT. They come. Be still a while.
(SPIRITS dance and sing.)
FIRST SPIRIT. (singing) Our hearts are sore, but we come Because we have heard you call.
SECOND SPIRIT. Sorrow has made me dumb.
FIRST SPIRIT. Her shepherds at nightfall Lay many a plate and cup Down by the trodden brink, That when the dance break up We may have meat and drink. Therefore our hearts are sore; And though we have heard and come Our crying filled the shore.
SECOND SPIRIT. Sorrow has made me dumb.
FIRST MERCHANT. What lies in the waves should be indifferent To good and evil, and yet it seems that these, Forgetful of their pure, impartial sea, Take sides with her.
SECOND MERCHANT. Hush, hush, and still your feet. You are not now upon Maeve’s dancing-floor.
A SPIRIT. O, look what I have found, a string of pearls!
(They begin taking jewels out of bag.)
SECOND MERCHANT. You must not touch them, put them in the bag, And now take up the bags upon your backs And carry them to Shemus Rua’s house On the wood’s border.
SPIRITS. No, no, no, no!
FIRST SPIRIT. No, no, let us away; From this we shall not come Cry out to’ us who may.
SECOND SPIRIT. Sorrow has made me dumb.
(They go.)
SECOND MERCHANT. They’re gone, for little do they care for me, And if I called they would but turn and mock, But you they dare not disobey.
FIRST MERCHANT (rising) These dancers Are always the most troublesome of spirits.
(He comes down the stage and stands facing the arches. He makes a gesture of command. The SPIRITS come back whimpering. They lift the bags and go out. Three speak as they are taking ub the bags.
FIRST SPIRIT. From this day out we’ll never dance again.
SECOND SPIRIT. Never again.
THIRD SPIRIT. Sorrow has made me dumb.
SECOND MERCHANT (looking into chapel door) She has heard nothing; she has fallen asleep.
Our lord would
be well pleased if we could win her. Now that the winds are heavy with our kind, Might we not kill her, and bear off her spirit Before the mob of angels were astir?
