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ACT IV.

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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 MERCHANT.

The woman may keep robbing us no more,

For there are only mice now in her coffers.

SECOND MERCHANT.

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.

FIRST MERCHANT.

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.

SECOND MERCHANT.

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.

FIRST MERCHANT.

Who will come deal with us?

SHEMUS.

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.

A MIDDLE-AGED MAN.

I come to deal if you give honest price.

FIRST MERCHANT.

[Reading in a parchment.]

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.

THE MAN.

I ask three hundred crowns. You have read there,

That no mere lapse of days can make me yours.

FIRST MERCHANT.

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.

[THE MAN takes them and goes.

SECOND MERCHANT.

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.

A WOMAN.

What price, now, will you give for mine?

FIRST MERCHANT.

Ay, ay,

Soft, handsome, and still young—not much, I think.

[Reading in the parchment.

She has love letters in a little jar

On the high shelf between the pepper-pot

And wood-cased hour-glass.

THE WOMAN.

O, the scandalous parchment!

FIRST MERCHANT [reading].

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.

[She takes them, and goes into the crowd.

Come—deal, deal, deal; it is for charity

We buy such souls at all; a thousand sins

Made them our master’s 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 master’s; 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.

[ALEEL enters; the wires of his harp are broken.

ALEEL.

Here, take my soul, for I am tired of it;

I do not ask a price.

FIRST MERCHANT [reading].

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.

ALEEL.

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.

FIRST MERCHANT.

We cannot take your soul, for it is hers.

ALEEL.

Ah, take it; take it. It nowise can help her,

And, therefore, do I tire of it.

FIRST MERCHANT.

No; no.

We may not touch it.

ALEEL.

Is your power so small,

Must I then bear it with me all my days?

May scorn close deep about you!

FIRST MERCHANT.

Lead him hence;

He troubles me.

[TEIG and SHEMUS lead ALEEL into the crowd.

SECOND MERCHANT.

His gaze has filled me, brother,

With shaking and a dreadful fear.

FIRST MERCHANT.

Lean forward

And kiss the circlet where my master’s 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.

SHEMUS.

He 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.

FIRST MERCHANT.

Come, deal, deal, deal, deal, deal; you are all dumb?

SHEMUS.

They say you beat the woman down too low.

FIRST MERCHANT.

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.

THE OLD PEASANT WOMAN [curtseying].

God bless you, sir. [She screams.

O, sir, a pain went through me.

FIRST MERCHANT.

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?

A PEASANT.

Nay, I am no coward.

I will sell half my soul.

FIRST MERCHANT.

How half your soul?

THE PEASANT.

Half my chance of heaven.

FIRST MERCHANT.

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.

SECOND MERCHANT.

Deal, come, deal.

FIRST MERCHANT.

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 PEASANTS SHOUT.

The Countess Cathleen comes!

CATHLEEN [entering].

And so you trade once more?

FIRST MERCHANT.

In spite of you.

What brings you here, saint with the sapphire eyes?

CATHLEEN.

I come to barter a soul for a great price.

FIRST MERCHANT.

What matter if the soul be worth the price?

CATHLEEN.

The people starve, therefore the people go

Thronging to you. I hear a cry come from them,

And it is in my ears by night and day;

And I would have five hundred thousand crowns,

That I may feed them till the dearth go by;

And have the wretched spirits you have bought

For your gold crowns released and sent to God.

The soul that I would barter is my soul.

A PEASANT.

Do not, do not; the souls of us poor folk

Are not precious to God as your soul is.

O! what would heaven do without you, lady?

ANOTHER PEASANT.

Look how their claws clutch in their leathern gloves.

FIRST MERCHANT.

Five hundred thousand crowns; we give the price,

The gold is here; the spirits, while you speak,

Begin to labour upward, for your face

Sheds a great light on them and fills their hearts

With those unveilings of the fickle light,

Whereby our heavy labours have been marred

Since first His spirit moved upon the deeps

And stole them from us; even before this day

The souls were but half ours, for your bright eyes

Had pierced them through and robbed them of content.

But you must sign, for we omit no form

In buying a soul like yours; sign with this quill;

It was a feather growing on the cock

That crowed when Peter dared deny his Master,

And all who use it have great honour in Hell.

[CATHLEEN leans forward to sign.

ALEEL.

[Rushing forward and snatching the parchment from her.]

Leave all things to the builder of the heavens.

CATHLEEN.

I have no thoughts: I hear a cry—a cry.

ALEEL.

[Casting the parchment on the ground.]

I had a vision under a green hedge,

A hedge of hips and haws—men yet shall hear

The archangels rolling Satan’s empty skull

Over the mountain-tops.

FIRST MERCHANT.

Take him away.

[TEIG and SHEMUS drag him roughly away so that he falls upon the floor among the peasants. CATHLEEN picks up the parchment and signs, and then turns towards the peasants.

CATHLEEN.

Take up the money; and now come with me.

When we are far from this polluted place

I will give everybody money enough.

[She goes out, the peasants crowding round her and kissing her dress. ALEEL and the TWO MERCHANTS are left alone.

SECOND MERCHANT.

Now are our days of heavy labour done.

FIRST MERCHANT.

We have a precious jewel for Satan’s crown.

SECOND MERCHANT.

We must away, and wait until she dies,

Sitting above her tower as two gray owls,

Watching as many years as may be, guarding

Our precious jewel; waiting to seize her soul.

FIRST MERCHANT.

We need but hover over her head in the air,

For she has only minutes: when she came

I saw the dimness of the tomb in her,

And marked her walking as with leaden shoes

And looking on the ground as though the worms

Were calling her, and when she wrote her name

Her heart began to break. Hush! hush! I hear

The brazen door of Hell move on its hinges,

And the eternal revelry float hither

To hearten us.

SECOND MERCHANT.

Leap, feathered, on the air

And meet them with her soul caught in your claws.

[They rush out. ALEEL crawls into the middle of the room. The twilight has fallen and gradually darkens as the scene goes on. There is a distant muttering of thunder and a sound of rising storm.

ALEEL.

The brazen door stands wide, and Balor comes

Borne in his heavy car, and demons have lifted

The age-weary eyelids from the eyes that of old

Turned gods to stone; Barach the traitor comes;

And the lascivious race, Cailitin,

That cast a druid weakness and decay

Over Sualtam’s and old Dectora’s child;

And that great king Hell first took hold upon

When he killed Naisi and broke Deirdre’s heart;

And all their heads are twisted to one side,

For when they lived they warred on beauty and peace

With obstinate, crafty, sidelong bitterness.

[OONA enters, but remains standing by the door. ALEEL half rises, leaning upon one arm and one knee.]

Crouch down, old heron, out of the blind storm.

OONA.

Where is the Countess Cathleen? All this day

She has been pale and weakly: when her hand

Touched mine over the spindle her hand trembled,

And now I do not know where she has gone.

ALEEL.

Cathleen has chosen other friends than us,

And they are rising through the hollow world.

[He points downwards.

First, Orchil, her pale beautiful head alive,

Her body shadowy as vapour drifting

Under the dawn, for she who awoke desire

Has but a heart of blood when others die;

About her is a vapoury multitude

Of women, alluring devils with soft laughter;

Behind her a host heat of the blood made sin,

But all the little pink-white nails have grown

To be great talons.

[He seizes OONA and drags her into the middle of the room and points downwards with vehement gestures. The wind roars.]

They begin a song

And there is still some music on their tongues.

OONA.

[Casting herself face downwards on the floor.]

O maker of all, protect her from the demons,

And if a soul must needs be lost, take mine.

[ALEEL kneels beside her, but does not seem to hear her words; he is gazing down as if through the earth. The peasants return. They carry the COUNTESS CATHLEEN and lay her upon the ground before OONA and ALEEL. She lies there as if dead.]

O that so many pitchers of rough clay

Should prosper and the porcelain break in two!

[She kisses the hands of the COUNTESS CATHLEEN.

A PEASANT.

We were under the tree where the path turns

When she grew pale as death and fainted away,

And while we bore her hither, cloudy gusts

Blackened the world and shook us on our feet:

Draw the great bolt, for no man has beheld

So black, bitter, blinding, and sudden a storm.

[One who is near the door draws the bolt.

OONA.

Hush, hush, she has awakened from her swoon.

CATHLEEN.

O hold me, and hold me tightly, for the storm

Is dragging me away!

[OONA takes her in her arms. A woman begins to wail.

A PEASANT.

Hush.

ANOTHER PEASANT.

Hush.

A PEASANT WOMAN.

Hush.

ANOTHER PEASANT WOMAN.

Hush.

CATHLEEN [half rising].

Lay all the bags of money at my feet.

[They lay the bags at her feet.

And send and bring old Neal when I am dead,

And bid him hear each man and judge and give:

He doctors you with herbs, and can best say

Who has the less and who the greater need.

A PEASANT WOMAN.

[At the back of the crowd.]

And will he give enough out of the bags

To keep my children till the dearth go by?

ANOTHER PEASANT WOMAN.

O Queen of Heaven and all you blessed Saints,

Let us and ours be lost, so she be shriven.

CATHLEEN.

Bend down your faces, Oona and Aleel:

I gaze upon them as the swallow gazes

Upon the nest under the eave, before

He wander the loud waters: do not weep

Too great a while, for there is many a candle

On the high altar though one fall. Aleel,

Who sang about the people of the raths,

That know not the hard burden of the world,

Having but breath in their kind bodies, farewell!

And farewell, Oona, who spun flax with me

Soft as their sleep when every dance is done:

The storm is in my hair and I must go.

[She dies.

OONA.

Bring me the looking-glass.

[A woman brings it to her out of the inner room. OONA holds the glass over the lips of the COUNTESS CATHLEEN. All is silent for a moment; and then she speaks in a half scream.]

O, she is dead!

A PEASANT WOMAN.

She was the great white lily of the world.

ANOTHER PEASANT WOMAN.

She was more beautiful than the pale stars.

AN OLD PEASANT WOMAN.

The little plant I loved is broken in two.

[ALEEL takes the looking-glass from OONA and flings it upon the floor so that it is broken in many pieces.

ALEEL.

I shatter you in fragments, for the face

That brimmed you up with beauty is no more:

And die, dull heart, for she whose mournful words

Made you a living spirit has passed away

And left you but a ball of passionate dust;

And you, proud earth and plumy sea, fade out,

For you may hear no more her faltering feet,

But are left lonely amid the clamorous war

Of angels upon devils.

[He stands up; almost everyone is kneeling, but it has grown so dark that only confused forms can be seen.]

And I who weep

Call curses on you, Time and Fate and Change,

And have no excellent hope but the great hour

When you shall plunge headlong through bottomless space.

[A flash of lightning followed immediately by thunder.

A PEASANT WOMAN.

Pull him upon his knees before his curses

Have plucked thunder and lightning on our heads.

ALEEL.

Angels and devils clash in the middle air,

And brazen swords clang upon brazen helms:

[A flash of lightning followed immediately by thunder.]

Yonder a bright spear, cast out of a sling,

Has torn through Balor’s eye, and the dark clans

Fly screaming as they fled Moytura of old.

[Everything is lost in darkness.

AN OLD MAN.

The Almighty, wrath at our great weakness and sin,

Has blotted out the world and we must die.

[The darkness is broken by a visionary light. The peasants seem to be kneeling upon the rocky slope of a mountain, and vapour full of storm and ever-changing light is sweeping above them and behind them. Half in the light, half in the shadow, stand armed Angels. Their armour is old and worn, and their drawn swords dim and dinted. They stand as if upon the air in formation of battle and look downward with stern faces. The peasants cast themselves on the ground.

ALEEL.

Look no more on the half-closed gates of Hell,

But speak to me, whose mind is smitten of God,

That it may be no more with mortal things;

And tell of her who lies here.

[He seizes one of the Angels.] Till you speak

You shall not drift into eternity.

THE ANGEL.

The light beats down: the gates of pearl are wide,

And she is passing to the floor of peace,

And Mary of the seven times wounded heart

Has kissed her lips, and the long blessed hair

Has fallen on her face; the Light of Lights

Looks always on the motive, not the deed,

The Shadow of Shadows on the deed alone.

[ALEEL releases the Angel and kneels.

OONA.

Tell them who walk upon the floor of peace

That I would die and go to her I love;

The years like great black oxen tread the world,

And God the herdsman goads them on behind,

And I am broken by their passing feet.

[A sound of far-off horns seems to come from the heart of the light. The vision melts away, and the forms of the kneeling peasants appear faintly in the darkness.]

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