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THE COUNTESS CATHLEEN

The sorrowful are dumb for thee.

Lament of Morion Shehone for Miss Mary Bourke.


To Maud Gonne.


PERSONS IN THE PLAY

Shemus Rua, a peasant

Teig, his son

Aleel, a young bard

Maurteen, a gardener

The Countess Cathleen

Oona, her foster-mother

Maire, wife of Shemus Rua

Two Demons disguised as merchants

Musicians

Peasants, Servants, &c.

Angelical Beings, Spirits, and Faeries

The scene is laid in Ireland, and in old times

THE COUNTESS CATHLEEN

ACT I

The cottage of SHEMUS REA. The door into the open air is at right side of room. There is a window at one side of the door, and a little shrine of the Virgin Mother at the other. At the back is a door opening into a bedroom, and at the left side of the room a pantry door. A wood of oak, beech, hazel, and quicken is seen through the window half hidden in vapour and twilight. MAIRE watches TEIG, who fills a pot with water. He stops as if to listen, and spills some of the water.

MAIRE
 
You are all thumbs.
 
TEIG
 
Hear how the dog bays, mother,
And how the gray hen flutters in the coop.
Strange things are going up and down the land,
These famine times: by Tubber-vanach crossroads
A woman met a man with ears spread out,
And they moved up and down like wings of bats.
 
MAIRE
 
Shemus stays late.
 
TEIG
 
By Carrick-orus churchyard,
A herdsman met a man who had no mouth,
Nor ears, nor eyes: his face a wall of flesh;
He saw him plainly by the moon.
 
MAIRE
[Going over to the little shrine.]
 
White Mary,
Bring Shemus home out of the wicked woods;
Save Shemus from the wolves; Shemus is daring;
And save him from the demons of the woods,
Who have crept out and wander on the roads,
Deluding dim-eyed souls now newly dead,
And those alive who have gone crazed with famine.
Save him, White Mary Virgin.
 
TEIG
 
And but now
I thought I heard far-off tympans and harps.
 
[Knocking at the door.
MAIRE
 
Shemus has come.
 
TEIG
 
May he bring better food
Than the lean crow he brought us yesterday.
 

[MAIRE opens the door, and SHEMUS comes in with a dead wolf on his shoulder.

MAIRE
 
Shemus, you are late home: you have been lounging
And chattering with some one: you know well
How the dreams trouble me, and how I pray,
Yet you lie sweating on the hill from morn,
Or linger at the crossways with all comers,
Telling or gathering up calamity.
 
SHEMUS
 
You would rail my head off. Here is a good dinner.
 
[He throws the wolf on the table.
 
A wolf is better than a carrion crow.
I searched all day: the mice and rats and hedgehogs
Seemed to be dead, and I could hardly hear
A wing moving in all the famished woods,
Though the dead leaves and clauber of four forests
Cling to my footsole. I turned home but now,
And saw, sniffing the floor in a bare cow-house,
This young wolf here: the crossbow brought him down.
 
MAIRE
 
Praise be the saints![After a pause.
Why did the house dog bay?
 
SHEMUS
 
He heard me coming and smelt food – what else?
 
TEIG
 
We will not starve awhile.
 
SHEMUS
 
What food is within?
 
TEIG
 
There is a bag half full of meal, a pan
Half full of milk.
 
SHEMUS
 
And we have one old hen.
 
TEIG
 
The bogwood were less hard.
 
MAIRE
 
Before you came
She made a great noise in the hencoop, Shemus.
What fluttered in the window?
 
TEIG
 
Two horned owls
Have blinked and fluttered on the window sill
From when the dog began to bay.
 
SHEMUS
 
Hush, hush.
 

[He fits an arrow to the crossbow, and goes towards the door. A sudden burst of music without.

 
They are off again: ladies or gentlemen
Travel in the woods with tympan and with harp.
Teig, put the wolf upon the biggest hook
And shut the door.
 

[TEIG goes into the cupboard with the wolf: returns and fastens the door behind him.

 
Sit on the creepy stool
And call up a whey face and a crying voice,
And let your head be bowed upon your knees.
 
[He opens the door of the cabin.
 
Come in, your honours: a full score of evenings
This threshold worn away by many a foot
Has been passed only by the snails and birds
And by our own poor hunger-shaken feet.
 

[The COUNTESS CATHLEEN, ALEEL, who carries a small square harp, OONA, and a little group of fantastically dressed musicians come in.

CATHLEEN
 
Are you so hungry?
 
TEIG
[From beside the fire.]
 
Lady, I fell but now,
And lay upon the threshold like a log.
I have not tasted a crust for these four days.
 

[The COUNTESS CATHLEEN empties her purse on to the table.

CATHLEEN
 
Had I more money I would give it you,
But we have passed by many cabins to-day;
And if you come to-morrow to my house
You shall have twice the sum. I am the owner
Of a long empty castle in these woods.
 
MAIRE
 
Then you are Countess Cathleen: you and yours
Are ever welcome under my poor thatch.
Will you sit down and warm you by the sods?
 
CATHLEEN
 
We must find out this castle in the wood
Before the chill o’ the night.
 
[The musicians begin to tune their instruments.
 
Do not blame me,
Good woman, for the tympan and the harp:
I was bid fly the terror of the times
And wrap me round with music and sweet song
Or else pine to my grave. I have lost my way;
Aleel, the poet, who should know these woods,
Because we met him on their border but now
Wandering and singing like the foam of the sea,
Is so wrapped up in dreams of terrors to come
That he can give no help.
 
MAIRE
[Going to the door with her.]
 
You’re almost there.
There is a trodden way among the hazels
That brings your servants to their marketing.
 
ALEEL
 
When we are gone draw to the door and the bolt,
For, till we lost them half an hour ago,
Two gray horned owls hooted above our heads
Of terrors to come. Tympan and harp awake!
For though the world drift from us like a sigh,
Music is master of all under the moon;
And play ‘The Wind that blows by Cummen Strand.’
 
[Music.
[Sings.]
 
Impetuous heart, be still, be still:
Your sorrowful love may never be told;
Cover it up with a lonely tune.
He who could bend all things to His will
Has covered the door of the infinite fold
With the pale stars and the wandering moon.
 

[While he is singing the COUNTESS CATHLEEN, OONA, and the musicians go out.

ALEEL
 
Shut to the door and shut the woods away,
For, till they had vanished in the thick of the leaves,
Two gray horned owls hooted above our heads.
 
[He goes out.
MAIRE
[Bolting the door.]
 
When wealthy and wise folk wander from their peace
And fear wood things, poor folk may draw the bolt
And pray before the fire.
 

[SHEMUS counts out the money, and rings a piece upon the table.

SHEMUS
 
The Mother of God,
Hushed by the waving of the immortal wings,
Has dropped in a doze and cannot hear the poor:
I passed by Margaret Nolan’s; for nine days
Her mouth was green with dock and dandelion;
And now they wake her.
 
MAIRE
 
I will go the next;
Our parents’ cabins bordered the same field.
 
SHEMUS
 
God, and the Mother of God, have dropped asleep,
For they are weary of the prayers and candles;
But Satan pours the famine from his bag,
And I am mindful to go pray to him
To cover all this table with red gold.
Teig, will you dare me to it?
 
TEIG
 
Not I, father.
 
MAIRE
 
O Shemus, hush, maybe your mind might pray
In spite o’ the mouth.
 
SHEMUS
 
Two crowns and twenty pennies.
 
MAIRE
 
Is yonder quicken wood?
 
SHEMUS
[Picking the bough from the table.]
 
He swayed about,
And so I tied him to a quicken bough
And slung him from my shoulder.
 
MAIRE
[Taking the bough from him.]
 
Shemus! Shemus!
What, would you burn the blessed quicken wood?
A spell to ward off demons and ill faeries.
You know not what the owls were that peeped in,
For evil wonders live in this old wood,
And they can show in what shape please them best.
And we have had no milk to leave of nights
To keep our own good people kind to us.
And Aleel, who has talked with the great Sidhe,
Is full of terrors to come.
 
[She lays the bough on a chair.
SHEMUS
 
I would eat my supper
With no less mirth if squatting by the hearth
Were dulacaun or demon of the pit
Clawing its knees, its hoof among the ashes.
 

[He rings another piece of money. A sound of footsteps outside the door.

MAIRE
 
Who knows what evil you have brought to us?
I fear the wood things, Shemus.
 
[A knock at the door.
 
Do not open.
 
SHEMUS
 
A crown and twenty pennies are not enough
To stop the hole that lets the famine in.
 
[The little shrine falls.
MAIRE
 
Look! look!
 
SHEMUS
[Crushing it underfoot.]
 
The Mother of God has dropped asleep,
And all her household things have gone to wrack.
 
MAIRE
 
O Mary, Mother of God, be pitiful!
 

[SHEMUS opens the door. TWO MERCHANTS stand without. They have bands of gold round their foreheads, and each carries a bag upon his shoulder.

FIRST MERCHANT
 
Have you food here?
 
SHEMUS
 
For those who can pay well.
 
SECOND MERCHANT
 
We are rich merchants seeking merchandise.
 
SHEMUS
 
Come in, your honours.
 
MAIRE
 
No, do not come in:
We have no food, not even for ourselves.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
There is a wolf on the big hook in the cupboard.
 
[They enter.
SHEMUS
 
Forgive her: she is not used to quality,
And is half crazed with being much alone.
How did you know I had taken a young wolf?
Fine wholesome food, though maybe somewhat strong.
 

[The SECOND MERCHANT sits down by the fire and begins rubbing his hands. The FIRST MERCHANT stands looking at the quicken bough on the chair.

FIRST MERCHANT
 
I would rest here: the night is somewhat chilly,
And my feet footsore going up and down
From land to land and nation unto nation:
The fire burns dimly; feed it with this bough.
 

[SHEMUS throws the bough into the fire. The FIRST MERCHANT sits down on the chair. The MERCHANTS’ chairs are on each side of the fire. The table is between them. Each lays his bag before him on the table. The night has closed in somewhat, and the main light comes from the fire.

MAIRE
 
What have you in the bags?
 
SHEMUS
 
Don’t mind her, sir:
Women grow curious and feather-thoughted
Through being in each other’s company
More than is good for them.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
Our bags are full
Of golden pieces to buy merchandise.
 

[They pour gold pieces on to the table out of their bags. It is covered with the gold pieces. They shine in the firelight. MAIRE goes to the door of pantry, and watches the MERCHANTS, muttering to herself.

TEIG
 
These are great gentlemen.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
[Taking a stone bottle out of his bag.]
 
Come to the fire,
Here is the headiest wine you ever tasted.
 
SECOND MERCHANT
 
Wine that can hush asleep the petty war
Of good and evil, and awake instead
A scented flame flickering above that peace
The bird of prey knows well in his deep heart.
 
SHEMUS
[Bringing drinking-cups.]
 
I do not understand you, but your wine
Sets me athirst: its praise made your eyes lighten.
I am thirsting for it.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
Ay, come drink and drink,
I bless all mortals who drink long and deep.
My curse upon the salt-strewn road of monks.
 

[TEIG and SHEMUS sit down at the table and drink.]

TEIG
 
You must have seen rare sights and done rare things.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
What think you of the master whom we serve?
 
SHEMUS
 
I have grown weary of my days in the world
Because I do not serve him.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
More of this
When we have eaten, for we love right well
A merry meal, a warm and leaping fire
And easy hearts.
 
SHEMUS
 
Come, Maire, and cook the wolf.
 
MAIRE
 
I will not cook for you.
 
SHEMUS
 
Maire is mad.
 
[TEIG and SHEMUS stand up and stagger about.
SHEMUS
 
That wine is the suddenest wine man ever tasted.
 
MAIRE
 
I will not cook for you: you are not human:
Before you came two horned owls looked at us;
The dog bayed, and the tongue of Shemus maddened.
When you came in the Virgin’s blessed shrine
Fell from its nail, and when you sat down here
You poured out wine as the wood sidheogs do
When they’d entice a soul out of the world.
Why did you come to us? Was not death near?
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
We are two merchants.
 
MAIRE
 
If you be not demons,
Go and give alms among the starving poor,
You seem more rich than any under the moon.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
If we knew where to find deserving poor,
We would give alms.
 
MAIRE
 
Then ask of Father John.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
We know the evils of mere charity,
And have been planning out a wiser way.
Let each man bring one piece of merchandise.
 
MAIRE
 
And have the starving any merchandise?
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
We do but ask what each man has.
 
MAIRE
 
Merchants,
Their swine and cattle, fields and implements,
Are sold and gone.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
They have not sold all yet.
 
MAIRE
 
What have they?
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
They have still their souls.
 

[MAIRE shrieks. He beckons to TEIG and SHEMUS.

 
Come hither.
See you these little golden heaps? Each one
Is payment for a soul. From charity
We give so great a price for those poor flames.
Say to all men we buy men’s souls – away.
 
[They do not stir.
 
This pile is for you and this one here for you.
 
MAIRE
 
Shemus and Teig, Teig —
 
TEIG
 
Out of the way.
 
[SHEMUS and TEIG take the money.
FIRST MERCHANT
 
Cry out at cross-roads and at chapel doors
And market-places that we buy men’s souls,
Giving so great a price that men may live
In mirth and ease until the famine ends.
 
[TEIG and SHEMUS go out.
MAIRE [kneeling]
 
Destroyers of souls, may God destroy you quickly!
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
No curse can overthrow the immortal demons.
 
MAIRE
 
You shall at last dry like dry leaves, and hang
Nailed like dead vermin to the doors of God.
 
FIRST MERCHANT
 
You shall be ours. This famine shall not cease.
You shall eat grass, and dock, and dandelion,
And fail till this stone threshold seem a wall,
And when your hands can scarcely drag your body
We shall be near you.
 
[To SECOND MERCHANT.
 
Bring the meal out.
 

[The SECOND MERCHANT brings the bag of meal from the pantry.

 
Burn it.      [MAIRE faints.
Now she has swooned, our faces go unscratched;
Bring me the gray hen, too.
 

The SECOND MERCHANT goes out through the door and returns with the hen strangled. He flings it on the floor. While he is away the FIRST MERCHANT makes up the fire. The FIRST MERCHANT then fetches the pan of milk from the pantry, and spills it on the ground. He returns, and brings out the wolf, and throws it down by the hen.

 
These need much burning.
This stool and this chair here will make good fuel.
 
[He begins breaking the chair.
 
My master will break up the sun and moon
And quench the stars in the ancestral night
And overturn the thrones of God and the angels.
 

ACT II

A great hall in the castle of the COUNTESS CATHLEEN. There is a large window at the farther end, through which the forest is visible. The wall to the right juts out slightly, cutting off an angle of the room. A flight of stone steps leads up to a small arched door in the jutting wall. Through the door can be seen a little oratory. The hall is hung with ancient tapestry, representing the loves and wars and huntings of the Fenian and Red Branch heroes. There are doors to the right and left. On the left side OONA sits, as if asleep, beside a spinning-wheel. The COUNTESS CATHLEEN stands farther back and more to the right, close to a group of the musicians, still in their fantastic dresses, who are playing a merry tune.

CATHLEEN
 
Be silent, I am tired of tympan and harp,
And tired of music that but cries ‘Sleep, sleep,’
Till joy and sorrow and hope and terror are gone.
 
[The COUNTESS CATHLEEN goes over to OONA.
 
You were asleep?
 
OONA
 
No, child, I was but thinking
Why you have grown so sad.
 
CATHLEEN
 
The famine frets me.
 
OONA
 
I have lived now near ninety winters, child,
And I have known three things no doctor cures —
Love, loneliness, and famine; nor found refuge
Other than growing old and full of sleep.
See you where Oisin and young Niamh ride
Wrapped in each other’s arms, and where the Fenians
Follow their hounds along the fields of tapestry;
How merry they lived once, yet men died then.
Sit down by me, and I will chaunt the song
About the Danaan nations in their raths
That Aleel sang for you by the great door
Before we lost him in the shadow of leaves.
 
CATHLEEN
 
No, sing the song he sang in the dim light,
When we first found him in the shadow of leaves,
About King Fergus in his brazen car
Driving with troops of dancers through the woods.
 

[She crouches down on the floor, and lays her head on OONA’S knees.

OONA
 
Dear heart, make a soft cradle of old tales,
And songs, and music: wherefore should you sadden
For wrongs you cannot hinder? The great God
Smiling condemns the lost: be mirthful: He
Bids youth be merry and old age be wise.
 
CATHLEEN
 
Tympan and harp awaken wandering dreams.
 
A VOICE [without]
 
You may not see the Countess.
 
ANOTHER VOICE
 
I must see her.
 

[Sound of a short struggle. A SERVANT enters from door to R.

SERVANT
 
The gardener is resolved to speak with you.
I cannot stay him.
 
CATHLEEN
 
You may come, Maurteen.
 

[The GARDENER, an old man, comes in from the R., and the SERVANT goes out.

GARDENER
 
Forgive my working clothes and the dirt on me.
I bring ill words, your ladyship, – too bad
To send with any other.
 
CATHLEEN
 
These bad times,
Can any news be bad or any good?
 
GARDENER
 
A crowd of ugly lean-faced rogues last night —
And may God curse them! – climbed the garden wall.
There is scarce an apple now on twenty trees,
And my asparagus and strawberry beds
Are trampled into clauber, and the boughs
Of peach and plum-trees broken and torn down
For some last fruit that hung there. My dog, too,
My old blind Simon, him who had no tail,
They murdered – God’s red anger seize them!
 
CATHLEEN
 
I know how pears and all the tribe of apples
Are daily in your love – how this ill chance
Is sudden doomsday fallen on your year;
So do not say no matter. I but say
I blame the famished season, and not you.
Then be not troubled.
 
GARDENER
 
I thank your ladyship.
 
CATHLEEN
 
What rumours and what portents of the famine?
 
GARDENER
 
The yellow vapour, in whose folds it came,
That creeps along the hedges at nightfall,
Rots all the heart out of my cabbages.
I pray against it.
 
[He goes towards the door, then pauses.
 
If her ladyship
Would give me an old crossbow, I would watch
Behind a bush and guard the pears of nights
And make a hole in somebody I know of.
 
CATHLEEN
 
They will give you a long draught of ale below.
 
[The GARDENER goes out.
OONA
 
What did he say? – he stood on my deaf side.
 
CATHLEEN
 
His apples are all stolen. Pruning time,
And the slow ripening of his pears and apples,
For him is a long, heart-moving history.
 
OONA
 
Now lay your head once more upon my knees.
I will sing how Fergus drove his brazen cars.
 
[She chaunts with the thin voice of age.
 
Who will go drive with Fergus now,
And pierce the deep woods’ woven shade,
And dance upon the level shore?
Young man, lift up your russet brow,
And lift your tender eyelids, maid,
And brood on hopes and fears no more.
You have dropped down again into your trouble.
You do not hear me.
 
CATHLEEN
 
Ah, sing on, old Oona,
I hear the horn of Fergus in my heart.
 
OONA
 
I do not know the meaning of the song.
I am too old.
 
CATHLEEN
 
The horn is calling, calling.
 
OONA
 
And no more turn aside and brood
Upon Love’s bitter mystery;
For Fergus rules the brazen cars,
And rules the shadows of the wood,
And the white breast of the dim sea
And all dishevelled wandering stars.
 
THE SERVANT’S VOICE [without]
 
The Countess Cathleen must not be disturbed.
 
ANOTHER VOICE
 
Man, I must see her.
 
CATHLEEN
 
Who now wants me, Paudeen?
 
SERVANT [from the door]
 
A herdsman and his history.
 
CATHLEEN
 
He may come.
 
[The HERDSMAN enters from the door to R.
HERDSMAN
 
Forgive this dusty gear: I have come far.
My sheep were taken from the fold last night.
You will be angry: I am not to blame.
But blame these robbing times.
 
CATHLEEN
 
No blame’s with you.
I blame the famine.
 
HERDSMAN
 
Kneeling, I give thanks.
When gazing on your face, the poorest, Lady,
Forget their poverty, the rich their care.
 
CATHLEEN
 
What rumours and what portents of the famine?
 
HERDSMAN
 
As I came down the lane by Tubber-vanach
A boy and man sat cross-legged on two stones,
With moving hands and faces famine-thin,
Gabbling to crowds of men and wives and boys
Of how two merchants at a house in the woods
Buy souls for hell, giving so great a price
That men may live through all the dearth in plenty.
The vales are famine-crazy – I am right glad
My home is on the mountain near to God.
 
[He turns to go.
CATHLEEN
 
They will give you ale and meat before you go.
You must have risen at dawn to come so far.
Keep your bare mountain – let the world drift by,
The burden of its wrongs rests not on you.
 
HERDSMAN
 
I am content to serve your ladyship.
 
[He goes.
OONA
 
What did he say? – he stood on my deaf side.
He seemed to give you word of woful things.
 
CATHLEEN
 
A story born out of the dreaming eyes
And crazy brain and credulous ears of famine.
O, I am sadder than an old air, Oona,
My heart is longing for a deeper peace
Than Fergus found amid his brazen cars:
Would that like Edain my first forebear’s daughter,
Who followed once a twilight’s piercing tune,
I could go down and dwell among the Sidhe
In their old ever-busy honeyed land.
 
OONA
 
You should not say such things – they bring ill-luck.
 
CATHLEEN
 
The image of young Edain on the arras,
Walking along, one finger lifted up;
And that wild song of the unending dance
Of the dim Danaan nations in their raths,
Young Aleel sang for me by the great door,
Before we lost him in the shadow of leaves,
Have filled me full of all these wicked words.
 

[The SERVANT enters hastily, followed by three men. Two are peasants.

SERVANT
 
The steward of the castle brings two men
To talk with you.
 
STEWARD
 
And tell the strangest story
The mouth of man has uttered.
 
CATHLEEN
 
More food taken;
Yet learned theologians have laid down
That he who has no food, offending no way,
May take his meat and bread from too-full larders.
 
FIRST PEASANT
 
We come to make amends for robbery.
I stole five hundred apples from your trees,
And laid them in a hole; and my friend here
Last night stole two large mountain sheep of yours
And hung them on a beam under his thatch.
 
SECOND PEASANT
 
His words are true.
 
FIRST PEASANT
 
Since then our luck has changed.
As I came down the lane by Tubber-vanach
I fell on Shemus Rua and his son,
And they led me where two great gentlemen
Buy souls for money, and they bought my soul.
I told my friend here – my friend also trafficked.
 
SECOND PEASANT
 
His words are true.
 
FIRST PEASANT
 
Now people throng to sell,
Noisy as seagulls tearing a dead fish.
There soon will be no man or woman’s soul
Unbargained for in fivescore baronies.
 
SECOND PEASANT
 
His words are true.
 
FIRST PEASANT
 
When we had sold we talked,
And having no more comfortable life
Than this that makes us warm – our souls being bartered
For all this money —
 
SECOND PEASANT
 
And this money here.
 

[They bring handfuls of money from their pockets. CATHLEEN starts up.

FIRST PEASANT
 
And fearing much to hang for robbery,
We come to pay you for the sheep and fruit.
How do you price them?
 
CATHLEEN
 
Gather up your money.
Think you that I would touch the demons’ gold?
Begone, give twice, thrice, twenty times their money,
And buy your souls again. I will pay all.
 
FIRST PEASANT
 
We will not buy our souls again: a soul
But keeps the flesh out of its merriment.
We shall be merry and drunk from moon to moon.
Keep from our way. Let no one stop our way.
 
[They go.
CATHLEEN [to servant]
 
Follow and bring them here again – beseech them.
 
[The SERVANT goes.
[To STEWARD.]
 
Steward, you know the secrets of this house.
How much have I in gold?
 
STEWARD
 
A hundred thousand.
 
CATHLEEN
 
How much have I in castles?
 
STEWARD
 
As much more.
 
CATHLEEN
 
How much have I in pastures?
 
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 to some distant country and come again
With many herds of cows and ships of grain.
 
STEWARD
 
God’s blessing light upon your ladyship;
You will have saved the land.
 
CATHLEEN
 
Make no delay.
 
[He goes.
[Enter SERVANT.]
 
How did you thrive? Say quickly. You are pale.
 
SERVANT
 
Their eyes burn like the eyes of birds of prey:
I did not dare go near.
 
CATHLEEN
 
God pity them!
Bring all the old and ailing to this house,
For I will have no sorrow of my own
From this day onward.
 

[The SERVANT goes out. Some of the musicians follow him, some linger in the doorway. The COUNTESS CATHLEEN kneels beside OONA.

 
Can you tell me, mother,
How I may mend the times, how staunch this wound
That bleeds in the earth, how overturn the famine,
How drive these demons to their darkness again?
 
OONA
 
The demons hold our hearts between their hands,
For the apple is in our blood, and though heart break
There is no medicine but Michael’s trump.
Till it has ended parting and old age
And hail and rain and famine and foolish laughter;
The dead are happy, the dust is in their ears.
 
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02 мая 2017
Объем:
153 стр. 23 иллюстрации
Правообладатель:
Public Domain
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