[The SECOND MERCHANT, who has been listening at the door to the right, comes forward, and as he comes a sound of voices and feet is heard through the door to his left.
SECOND MERCHANT [aside to FIRST MERCHANT]Away now they are in the passage hurry,
For they will know us, and freeze up our hearts
With Ave Marys, and burn all our skin
With holy water.
Farewell: we must ride
Many a mile before the morning come;
Our horses beat the ground impatiently.
[They go out to R. A number of peasants enter at the same moment by the opposite door.
CATHLEENWhat would you?
As we nodded by the fire,
Telling old histories, we heard a noise
Of falling money. We have searched in vain.
You are too timid. I heard naught at all.
Ay, we are timid, for a rich mans word
Can shake our houses, and a moon of drouth
Shrivel our seedlings in the barren earth;
We are the slaves of wind, and hail, and flood;
Fear jogs our elbow in the market-place,
And nods beside us on the chimney-seat.
Ill-bodings are as native unto our hearts
As are their spots unto the woodpeckers.
You need not shake with bodings in this house.
The treasure-room is broken in mavrone mavrone;
The door stands open and the gold is gone.
CATHLEEN.
Be silent. [The cry ceases.
Saw you any one?
Mavrone,
That my good mistress should lose all this money.
You three upon my right hand, ride and ride;
I will give a farm to him who finds the thieves.
[A man with keys at his girdle has entered while she was speaking.
A PEASANTThe porter trembles.
It is all no use;
Demons were here. I sat beside the door
In my stone niche, and two owls passed me by,
Whispering with human voices.
God forsakes us.
Old man, old man, He never closed a door
Unless one opened. I am desolate,
For a most sad resolve wakes in my heart:
But always I have faith. Old men and women,
Be silent; He does not forsake the world,
But stands before it modelling in the clay
And moulding there His image. Age by age
The clay wars with His fingers and pleads hard
For its old, heavy, dull, and shapeless ease;
At times it crumbles and a nation falls,
Now moves awry and demon hordes are born.
But leave me now, for I am desolate,
I hear a whisper from beyond the thunder.
Yet stay an instant. When we meet again
I may have grown forgetful. Oona, take
These two the larder and the dairy keys.
[To THE OLD PEASANT.] But take you this. It opens the small room
Of herbs for medicine, of hellebore,
Of vervain, monkshood, plantain, and self-heal
And all the others; and the book of cures
Is on the upper shelf. You understand,
Because you doctored goats and cattle once.
Why do you do this, lady did you see
Your coffin in a dream?
Ah, no, not that,
A sad resolve wakes in me. I have heard
A sound of wailing in unnumbered hovels,
And I must go down, down, I know not where.
Pray for the poor folk who are crazed with famine;
Pray, you good neighbours.
[The peasants all kneel. The COUNTESS CATHLEEN ascends the steps to the door of the oratory, and, turning round, stands there motionless for a little, and then cries in a loud voice.]
Mary, queen of angels,
And all you clouds on clouds of saints, farewell!
ACT IV
The cabin of SHEMUS RUA. The TWO MERCHANTS are sitting one at each end of the table, with rolls of parchment and many little heaps of gold before them. Through an open door, at the back, one sees into an inner room, in which there is a bed. On the bed is the body of MAIRE with candles about it.
FIRST MERCHANTThe woman may keep robbing us no more,
For there are only mice now in her coffers.
Last night, closed in the image of an owl,
I hurried to the cliffs of Donegal,
And saw, creeping on the uneasy surge,
Those ships that bring the woman grain and meal;
They are five days from us.
I hurried East,
A gray owl flitting, flitting in the dew,
And saw nine hundred oxen toil through Meath
Driven on by goads of iron; they, too, brother,
Are full five days from us.
Five days for traffic.
[While they have been speaking the peasants have come in, led by TEIG and SHEMUS, who take their stations, one on each side of the door, and keep them marshalled into rude order and encourage them from time to time with gestures and whispered words.
Here throng they; since the drouth they go in throngs,
Like autumn leaves blown by the dreary winds.
Come, deal come, deal.
Who will come deal with us?
They are out of spirit, sir, with lack of food,
Save four or five. Here, sir, is one of these;
The others will gain courage in good time.
I come to deal if you give honest price.
John Maher, a man of substance, with dull mind,
And quiet senses and unventurous heart.
The angels think him safe. Two hundred crowns,
All for a soul, a little breath of wind.
I ask three hundred crowns. You have read there,
That no mere lapse of days can make me yours.
There is something more writ here often at night
He is wakeful from a dread of growing poor.
There is this crack in you two hundred crowns.
Come, deal one would half think you had no souls.
If only for the credit of your parishes,
Come, deal, deal, deal, or will you always starve?
Maire, the wife of Shemus, would not deal,
She starved she lies in there with red wallflowers,
And candles stuck in bottles round her bed.
What price, now, will you give for mine?
Ay, ay,
Soft, handsome, and still young not much, I think.
She has love letters in a little jar
On the high shelf between the pepper-pot
And wood-cased hour-glass.
O, the scandalous parchment!
She hides them from her husband, who buys horses,
And is not much at home. You are almost safe.
I give you fifty crowns.[She turns to go.
A hundred, then.
Come deal, deal, deal; it is for charity
We buy such souls at all; a thousand sins
Made them our masters long before we came.
Come, deal come, deal. You seem resolved to starve
Until your bones show through your skin. Come, deal,
Or live on nettles, grass, and dandelion.
Or do you dream the famine will go by?
The famine is hale and hearty; it is mine
And my great masters; it shall no wise cease
Until our purpose end: the yellow vapour
That brought it bears it over your dried fields
And fills with violent phantoms of the lost,
And grows more deadly as day copies day.
See how it dims the daylight. Is that peace
Known to the birds of prey so dread a thing?
They, and the souls obedient to our master,
And those who live with that great other spirit
Have gained an end, a peace, while you but toss
And swing upon a moving balance beam.
Here, take my soul, for I am tired of it;
I do not ask a price.
A man of songs:
Alone in the hushed passion of romance,
His mind ran all on sidheoges and on tales
Of Fenian labours and the Red Branch kings,
And he cared nothing for the life of man:
But now all changes.
Ay, because her face,
The face of Countess Cathleen, dwells with me:
The sadness of the world upon her brow:
The crying of these strings grew burdensome,
Therefore I tore them; see; now take my soul.
We cannot take your soul, for it is hers.
Ah, take it; take it. It nowise can help her,
And, therefore, do I tire of it.
No; no.
We may not touch it.
Is your power so small,
Must I then bear it with me all my days?
May scorn close deep about you!
Lead him hence;
He troubles me.
[TEIG and SHEMUS lead ALEEL into the crowd.
[TEIG and SHEMUS lead ALEEL into the crowd.
SECOND MERCHANTHis gaze has filled me, brother,
With shaking and a dreadful fear.
Lean forward
And kiss the circlet where my masters lips
Were pressed upon it when he sent us hither:
You will have peace once more.
[The SECOND MERCHANT kisses the gold circlet that is about the head of the FIRST MERCHANT.
SHEMUSHe is called Aleel,
And has been crazy now these many days;
But has no harm in him: his fits soon pass,
And one can go and lead him like a child.
Come, deal, deal, deal, deal, deal; you are all dumb?
They say you beat the woman down too low.
I offer this great price: a thousand crowns
For an old woman who was always ugly.
[An old peasant woman comes forward, and he takes up a parchment and reads.]
There is but little set down here against her;
She stole fowl sometimes when the harvest failed,
But always went to chapel twice a week,
And paid her dues when prosperous. Take your money.
God bless you, sir. [She screams.
O, sir, a pain went through me.
That name is like a fire to all damned souls.
Begone. [She goes.] See how the red gold pieces glitter.
Deal: do you fear because an old hag screamed?
Are you all cowards?
Nay, I am no coward.
I will sell half my soul.
How half your soul?
Half my chance of heaven.
It is writ here
This man in all things takes the moderate course,
He sits on midmost of the balance beam,
And no man has had good of him or evil.
Begone, we will not buy you.
Deal, come, deal.
What, will you keep us from our ancient home,
And from the eternal revelry? Come, deal,
And we will hence to our great master again.
Come, deal, deal, deal.
The Countess Cathleen comes!