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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.

ACT III.

       Table of Contents

      Hall of the COUNTESS CATHLEEN as before. SERVANT enters and goes towards the oratory door.

      SERVANT.

      Here is yet another would see your ladyship.

      CATHLEEN [within].

      Who calls me?

      SERVANT.

      There is a man would speak with you,

      And by his face he has some pressing news,

      Some moving tale.

      CATHLEEN [coming to chapel door].

      I cannot rest or pray,

      For all day long the messengers run hither

      On one another’s heels, and every message

      More evil than the one that had gone before.

      Who is the messenger?

      SERVANT.

      Aleel, the poet.

      CATHLEEN.

      There is no hour he is not welcome to me,

      Because I know of nothing but a harp-string

      That can remember happiness.

      [SERVANT goes out and ALEEL comes in.

      And now

      I grow forgetful of evil for awhile.

      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.

      Men say that the wise people of the raths

      Have given you wisdom.

      ALEEL.

      I lay in the dusk

      Upon the grassy margin of a lake

      Among the hills, where none of mortal creatures

      But the swan comes—my sleep became a fire.

      One walked in the fire with birds about his head.

      CATHLEEN.

      Ay, Aengus of the birds.

      ALEEL.

      He may be Aengus,

      But it may be he bears an angelical name.

      Lady, he bid me call you from these woods;

      He bids you bring Oona, your 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 gone.

      [He kneels.]

      For here some terrible death is waiting you;

      Some unimaginable evil, some great darkness

      That fable has not dreamt of, nor sun nor moon

      Scattered.

      CATHLEEN.

      And he had birds about his head?

      ALEEL.

      Yes, yes, white birds. He bids you leave this house

      With some old trusty serving-man, who will feed

      All that are starving and shelter all that 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.

       [Throwing his arms about her feet.]

      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 the chapel door; ALEEL holds his clasped hands towards her for a moment hesitatingly, and then lets them fall beside him.

      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

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