LITMIR.BIZ

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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,

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