The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 5 of 8. The Celtic Twilight and Stories of Red Hanrahan

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Yeats William Butler. The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 5 of 8. The Celtic Twilight and Stories of Red Hanrahan

THE CELTIC TWILIGHT

THE HOSTING OF THE SIDHE

THE CELTIC TWILIGHT. THIS BOOK

A TELLER OF TALES

BELIEF AND UNBELIEF

MORTAL HELP

A VISIONARY

VILLAGE GHOSTS

‘DUST HATH CLOSED HELEN’S EYE.’

A KNIGHT OF THE SHEEP

AN ENDURING HEART

THE SORCERERS

THE DEVIL

HAPPY AND UNHAPPY THEOLOGIANS

THE LAST GLEEMAN

REGINA, REGINA PIGMEORUM VENI

‘AND FAIR, FIERCE WOMEN’

ENCHANTED WOODS

MIRACULOUS CREATURES

ARISTOTLE OF THE BOOKS

THE SWINE OF THE GODS

A VOICE

KIDNAPPERS

THE UNTIRING ONES

EARTH, FIRE AND WATER

THE OLD TOWN

THE MAN AND HIS BOOTS

A COWARD

THE THREE O’BYRNES AND THE EVIL FAERIES

DRUMCLIFF AND ROSSES

THE THICK SKULL OF THE FORTUNATE

THE RELIGION OF A SAILOR

CONCERNING THE NEARNESS TOGETHER OF HEAVEN, EARTH, AND PURGATORY

THE EATERS OF PRECIOUS STONES

OUR LADY OF THE HILLS

THE GOLDEN AGE

A REMONSTRANCE WITH SCOTSMEN FOR HAVING SOURED THE DISPOSITION OF THEIR GHOSTS AND FAERIES

WAR

THE QUEEN AND THE FOOL

THE FRIENDS OF THE PEOPLE OF FAERY

DREAMS THAT HAVE NO MORAL

BY THE ROADSIDE

INTO THE TWILIGHT

STORIES OF RED HANRAHAN

RED HANRAHAN

THE TWISTING OF THE ROPE

HANRAHAN AND CATHLEEN THE DAUGHTER OF HOOLIHAN

RED HANRAHAN’S CURSE

HANRAHAN’S VISION

THE DEATH OF HANRAHAN

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I have desired, like every artist, to create a little world out of the beautiful, pleasant, and significant things of this marred and clumsy world, and to show in a vision something of the face of Ireland to any of my own people who would look where I bid them. I have therefore written down accurately and candidly much that I have heard and seen, and, except by way of commentary, nothing that I have merely imagined. I have, however, been at no pains to separate my own beliefs from those of the peasantry, but have rather let my men and women, dhouls and faeries, go their way unoffended or defended by any argument of mine. The things a man has heard and seen are threads of life, and if he pull them carefully from the confused distaff of memory, any who will can weave them into whatever garments of belief please them best. I too have woven my garment like another, but I shall try to keep warm in it, and shall be well content if it do not unbecome me.

Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a little.

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She met the spirit a third time in the bogeen. She asked what kept it from its rest. The spirit said that its children must be taken from the workhouse, for none of its relations were ever there before, and that three masses were to be said for the repose of its soul. ‘If my husband does not believe you,’ she said, ‘show him that,’ and touched Mrs. Kelly’s wrist with three fingers. The places where they touched swelled up and blackened. She then vanished. For a time Montgomery would not believe that his wife had appeared: ‘she would not show herself to Mrs. Kelly,’ he said – ‘she with respectable people to appear to.’ He was convinced by the three marks, and the children were taken from the workhouse. The priest said the masses, and the shade must have been at rest, for it has not since appeared. Some time afterwards Jim Montgomery died in the workhouse, having come to great poverty through drink.

I know some who believe they have seen the headless ghost upon the quay, and one who, when he passes the old cemetery wall at night, sees a woman with white borders to her cap2 creep out and follow him. The apparition only leaves him at his own door. The villagers imagine that she follows him to avenge some wrong. ‘I will haunt you when I die’ is a favourite threat. His wife was once half-scared to death by what she considers a demon in the shape of a dog.

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