No More Learning

What do you say? Have you forgiven him?

NAISI.

He is but mocking us. What's left to say
Now that the seven years' hunt is at an end?

DEIRDRE.

He never doubted you until I made him,
And therefore all the blame for what he says
Should fall on me.

CONCHUBAR.

But his young blood is hot,
And if we're of one mind, he shall go free,
And I ask nothing for it, or, if something,
Nothing I could not take. There is no king
In the wide world that, being so greatly wronged,
Could copy me, and give all vengeance up.
Although her marriage-day had all but come,
You carried her away; but I'll show mercy.
Because you had the insolent strength of youth
You carried her away; but I've had time
To think it out through all these seven years.
I will show mercy.

NAISI.

You have many words.

CONCHUBAR.

I will not make a bargain; I but ask
What is already mine. You may go free
If Deirdre will but walk into my house
Before the people's eyes, that they may know
When I have put the crown upon her head
I have not taken her by force and guile.
The doors are open, and the floors are strewed,
And in the bridal chamber curtains sewn
With all enchantments that give happiness,
By races that are germane to the sun,
And nearest him, and have no blood in their veins--
For when they're wounded the wound drips with wine--
Nor speech but singing. At the bridal door
Two fair king's daughters carry in their hands
The crown and robe.

DEIRDRE.

Oh, no! Not that, not that.
Ask any other thing but that one thing.
Leave me with Naisi. We will go away
Into some country at the ends of the earth.
We'll trouble you no more. You will be praised
By everybody if you pardon us.
'He is good, he is good,' they'll say to one another;
'There's nobody like him, for he forgave
Deirdre and Naisi. '

CONCHUBAR.

Do you think that I
Shall let you go again, after seven years
Of longing and of planning here and there,
And trafficking with merchants for the stones
That make all sure, and watching my own face
That none might read it?

DEIRDRE [_to NAISI_].

It's better to go with him.
Why should you die when one can bear it all?
My life is over; it's better to obey.
Why should you die? I will not live long, Naisi.
I'd not have you believe I'd long stay living;
Oh no, no, no! You will go far away.
You will forget me. Speak, speak, Naisi, speak,
And say that it is better that I go.
I will not ask it. Do not speak a word,
For I will take it all upon myself.
Conchubar, I will go.

NAISI.

And do you think
That, were I given life at such a price,
I would not cast it from me? O, my eagle!
Why do you beat vain wings upon the rock
When hollow night's above?

DEIRDRE.

It's better, Naisi.
It may be hard for you, but you'll forget.
For what am I, to be remembered always?
And there are other women. There was one,
The daughter of the King of Leodas;
I could not sleep because of her. Speak to him;
Tell it out plain, and make him understand.
And if it be he thinks I shall stay living,
Say that I will not.

NAISI.

Would I had lost life
Among those Scottish kings that sought it of me,
Because you were my wife, or that the worst
Had taken you before this bargaining!
O eagle! if you were to do this thing,
And buy my life of Conchubar with your body,
Love's law being broken, I would stand alone
Upon the eternal summits, and call out,
And you could never come there, being banished.

DEIRDRE [_kneeling to CONCHUBAR_].

I would obey, but cannot. Pardon us.
I know that you are good. I have heard you praised
For giving gifts; and you will pardon us,
Although I cannot go into your house.
It was my fault. I only should be punished.

[_Unseen by DEIRDRE, NAISI is gagged. _

The very moment these eyes fell on him,
I told him; I held out my hands to him;
How could he refuse? At first he would not--
I am not lying--he remembered you.
What do I say? My hands? --No, no, my lips--
For I had pressed my lips upon his lips--
I swear it is not false--my breast to his;

[_CONCHUBAR motions; NAISI, unseen by DEIRDRE, is taken
behind the curtain. _

Until I woke the passion that's in all,
And how could he resist? I had my beauty.
You may have need of him, a brave, strong man,
Who is not foolish at the council board,
Nor does he quarrel by the candle-light
And give hard blows to dogs. A cup of wine
Moves him to mirth, not madness.

[_She stands up. _

What am I saying?
You may have need of him, for you have none
Who is so good a sword, or so well loved
Among the common people. You may need him,
And what king knows when the hour of need may come?
You dream that you have men enough. You laugh.
Yes; you are laughing to yourself. You say,
'I am Conchubar--I have no need of him. '
You will cry out for him some day and say,
'If Naisi were but living'----[_She misses NAISI. _] Where is he?
Where have you sent him? Where is the son of Usna?
Where is he, O, where is he?

[_She staggers over to the MUSICIANS. The EXECUTIONER
has come out with sword on which there is blood;
CONCHUBAR points to it. The MUSICIANS give a wail. _

CONCHUBAR.

The traitor who has carried off my wife
No longer lives. Come to my house now, Deirdre,
For he that called himself your husband's dead.

DEIRDRE.

O, do not touch me. Let me go to him.

[_Pause. _

King Conchubar is right. My husband's dead.
A single woman is of no account,
Lacking array of servants, linen cupboards,
The bacon hanging--and King Conchubar's house
All ready, too--I'll to King Conchubar's house.
It is but wisdom to do willingly
What has to be.

CONCHUBAR.

But why are you so calm?
I thought that you would curse me and cry out,
And fall upon the ground and tear your hair.

DEIRDRE [_laughing_].

You know too much of women to think so;
Though, if I were less worthy of desire,
I would pretend as much; but, being myself,
It is enough that you were master here.
Although we are so delicately made,
There's something brutal in us, and we are won
By those who can shed blood. It was some woman
That taught you how to woo: but do not touch me,
For I'll go with you and do all your will
When I have done whatever's customary.
We lay the dead out, folding up the hands,
Closing the eyes, and stretching out the feet,
And push a pillow underneath the head,
Till all's in order; and all this I'll do
For Naisi, son of Usna.

CONCHUBAR.

It is not fitting.
You are not now a wanderer, but a queen,
And there are plenty that can do these things.

DEIRDRE.

[_Motioning CONCHUBAR away. _]

No, no. Not yet. I cannot be your queen
Till the past's finished, and its debts are paid.
When a man dies and there are debts unpaid,
He wanders by the debtor's bed and cries,
There's so much owing.

CONCHUBAR.

You are deceiving me.
You long to look upon his face again.
Why should I give you now to a dead man
That took you from a living?

[_He makes a step towards her. _

DEIRDRE.

In good time.
You'll stir me to more passion than he could,
And yet, if you are wise, you'll grant me this:
That I go look upon him that was once
So strong and comely and held his head so high
That women envied me. For I will see him
All blood-bedabbled and his beauty gone.
It's better, when you're beside me in your strength,
That the mind's eye should call up the soiled body,
And not the shape I loved. Look at him, women.
He heard me pleading to be given up,
Although my lover was still living, and yet
He doubts my purpose. I will have you tell him
How changeable all women are. How soon
Even the best of lovers is forgot,
When his day's finished.

CONCHUBAR.

No; but I will trust
The strength you have spoken of, and not your purpose.

DEIRDRE [_almost with a caress_].

I'll have this gift--the first that I have asked.
He has refused. There is no sap in him,
Nothing but empty veins. I thought as much.
He has refused me the first thing I have asked--
Me, me, his wife. I understand him now;
I know the sort of life I'll have with him;
But he must drag me to his house by force.
If he refuse [_she laughs_], he shall be mocked of all.
They'll say to one another, 'Look at him
That is so jealous that he lured a man
From over sea, and murdered him, and yet
He trembled at the thought of a dead face! '

[_She has her hand upon curtain. _

CONCHUBAR.

How do I know that you have not some knife,
And go to die upon his body?

DEIRDRE.

Have me searched,
If you would make so little of your queen.
It may be that I have a knife hid here
Under my dress. Bid one of these dark slaves
To search me for it.

[_Pause. _

CONCHUBAR.

Go to your farewells, queen.

DEIRDRE.

Now strike the wire, and sing to it awhile,
Knowing that all is happy, and that you know
Within what bride-bed I shall lie this night,
And by what man, and lie close up to him,
For the bed's narrow, and there outsleep the cockcrow.
[_She goes behind the curtain. _

FIRST MUSICIAN.

They are gone, they are gone. The proud may lie by the proud.

SECOND MUSICIAN.

Though we were bidden to sing, cry nothing loud.

FIRST MUSICIAN.

They are gone, they are gone.

SECOND MUSICIAN.

Whispering were enough.

FIRST MUSICIAN.

Into the secret wilderness of their love.

SECOND MUSICIAN.

A high, grey cairn. What more is to be said?

FIRST MUSICIAN.

Eagles have gone into their cloudy bed.

[_Shouting outside. FERGUS enters. Many men with
scythes and sickles and torches gather about the doors.
The house is lit with the glare of their torches. _

FERGUS.

Where's Naisi, son of Usna, and his queen?
I and a thousand reaping-hooks and scythes
Demand him of you.

CONCHUBAR.

You have come too late.
I have accomplished all. Deirdre is mine;
She is my queen, and no man now can rob me.
I had to climb the topmost bough and pull
This apple among the winds. Open the curtain,
That Fergus learn my triumph from her lips.

[_The curtain is drawn back. The MUSICIANS begin to
keen with low voices. _

No, no; I'll not believe it. She is not dead--
She cannot have escaped a second time!

FERGUS.

King, she is dead; but lay no hand upon her.
What's this but empty cage and tangled wire,
Now the bird's gone? but I'll not have you touch it.

CONCHUBAR.

You are all traitors, all against me--all.
And she has deceived me for a second time.
And every common man may keep his wife,
But not the King.
[_Loud shouting outside_: 'Death to Conchubar! ' 'Where
is Naisi? ' etc. _The dark-skinned men gather round
CONCHUBAR and draw their swords; but he motions them
away. _

I have no need of weapons,
There's not a traitor that dare stop my way.
Howl, if you will; but I, being king, did right
In choosing her most fitting to be queen,
And letting no boy lover take the sway.




THE SHADOWY WATERS




TO LADY GREGORY


_I walked among the seven woods of Coole,
Shan-walla, where a willow-bordered pond
Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn;
Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-gno,
Where many hundred squirrels are as happy
As though they had been hidden by green boughs,
Where old age cannot find them; Pairc-na-lea,
Where hazel and ash and privet blind the paths;
Dim Pairc-na-carraig, where the wild bees fling
Their sudden fragrances on the green air;
Dim Pairc-na-tarav, where enchanted eyes
Have seen immortal, mild, proud shadows walk;
Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox
And marten-cat, and borders that old wood
Wise Biddy Early called the wicked wood:
Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods.
I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes,
Yet dreamed that beings happier than men
Moved round me in the shadows, and at night
My dreams were cloven by voices and by fires;
And the images I have woven in this story
Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters
Moved round me in the voices and the fires,
And more I may not write of, for they that cleave
The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue
Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence.
How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows?
I only know that all we know comes from you,
And that you come from Eden on flying feet.
Is Eden far away, or do you hide
From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys
That run before the reaping-hook and lie
In the last ridge of the barley? Do our woods
And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods,
More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds?
Is Eden out of time and out of space?
And do you gather about us when pale light
Shining on water and fallen among leaves,
And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers
And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart? _

_I have made this poem for you, that men may read it
Before they read of Forgael and Dectora,
As men in the old times, before the harps began,
Poured out wine for the high invisible ones. _

SEPTEMBER, 1900.




THE HARP OF AENGUS

_Edain came out of Midher's hill, and lay
Beside young Aengus in his tower of glass,
Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds
And druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,
And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made
Of opal and ruby and pale chrysolite
Awake unsleeping fires; and wove seven strings,
Sweet with all music, out of his long hair,
Because her hands had been made wild by love;
When Midher's wife had changed her to a fly,
He made a harp with druid apple wood
That she among her winds might know he wept;
And from that hour he has watched over none
But faithful lovers. _


_PERSONS IN THE PLAY_

FORGAEL
AIBRIC
SAILORS
DECTORA

_The deck of an ancient ship. At the right of the stage
is the mast, with a large square sail hiding a great
deal of the sky and sea on that side. The tiller is at
the left of the stage; it is a long oar coming through
an opening in the bulwark. The deck rises in a series
of steps behind the tiller, and the stern of the ship
curves overhead. All the woodwork is of dark green;
and the sail is dark green, with a blue pattern upon
it, having a little copper colour here and there. The
sky and sea are dark blue. All the persons of the play
are dressed in various tints of green and blue, the
men with helmets and swords of copper, the woman with
copper ornaments upon her dress. When the play opens
there are four persons upon the deck. AIBRIC stands by
the tiller. FORGAEL sleeps upon the raised portion of
the deck towards the front of the stage. Two SAILORS
are standing near to the mast, on which a harp is
hanging. _


FIRST SAILOR.

Has he not led us into these waste seas
For long enough?

SECOND SAILOR.

Aye, long and long enough.

FIRST SAILOR.

We have not come upon a shore or ship
These dozen weeks.

SECOND SAILOR.

And I had thought to make
A good round sum upon this cruise, and turn--
For I am getting on in life--to something
That has less ups and downs than robbery.

FIRST SAILOR.

I am so lecherous with abstinence
I'd give the profit of nine voyages
For that red Moll that had but the one eye.

SECOND SAILOR.

And all the ale ran out at the new moon;
And now that time puts water in my blood,
The ale cup is my father and my mother.

FIRST SAILOR.

It would be better to turn home again,
Whether he will or no; and better still
To make an end while he is sleeping there.
If we were of one mind I'd do it.

SECOND SAILOR.

Were't not
That there is magic in that harp of his,
That makes me fear to raise a hand against him,
I would be of your mind; but when he plays it
Strange creatures flutter up before one's eyes,
Or cry about one's ears.

FIRST SAILOR.

Nothing to fear.

SECOND SAILOR.

Do you remember when we sank that galley
At the full moon?

FIRST SAILOR.

He played all through the night.

SECOND SAILOR.

Until the moon had set; and when I looked
Where the dead drifted, I could see a bird
Like a grey gull upon the breast of each.
While I was looking they rose hurriedly,
And after circling with strange cries awhile
Flew westward; and many a time since then
I've heard a rustling overhead in the wind.

FIRST SAILOR.

I saw them on that night as well as you.
But when I had eaten and drunk a bellyful
My courage came again.

SECOND SAILOR.

But that's not all.
The other night, while he was playing it,
A beautiful young man and girl came up
In a white, breaking wave; they had the look
Of those that are alive for ever and ever.

FIRST SAILOR.

I saw them, too, one night. Forgael was playing,
And they were listening there beyond the sail.
He could not see them, but I held out my hands
To grasp the woman.

SECOND SAILOR.

You have dared to touch her?

FIRST SAILOR.

O, she was but a shadow, and slipped from me.

SECOND SAILOR.

But were you not afraid?

FIRST SAILOR.

Why should I fear?

SECOND SAILOR.

'Twas Aengus and Edain, the wandering lovers,
To whom all lovers pray.

FIRST SAILOR.

But what of that?
A shadow does not carry sword or spear.

SECOND SAILOR.

My mother told me that there is not one
Of the ever-living half so dangerous
As that wild Aengus. Long before her day
He carried Edain off from a king's house,
And hid her among fruits of jewel-stone
And in a tower of glass, and from that day
Has hated every man that's not in love,
And has been dangerous to him.

FIRST SAILOR.

I have heard
He does not hate seafarers as he hates
Peaceable men that shut the wind away,
And keep to the one weary marriage-bed.

SECOND SAILOR.

I think that he has Forgael in his net,
And drags him through the sea.

FIRST SAILOR.

Well, net or none,
I'd kill him while we have the chance to do it.

SECOND SAILOR.

It's certain I'd sleep easier o' nights
If he were dead; but who will be our captain,
Judge of the stars, and find a course for us?

FIRST SAILOR.

I've thought of that. We must have Aibric with us,
For he can judge the stars as well as Forgael.

[_Going towards AIBRIC. _

Become our captain, Aibric. I am resolved
To make an end of Forgael while he sleeps.
There's not a man but will be glad of it
When it is over, nor one to grumble at us.
You'll have the captain's share of everything.

AIBRIC.

Silence! for you have taken Forgael's pay.

FIRST SAILOR.

We joined him for his pay, but have had none
This long while now; we had not turned against him
If he had brought us among peopled seas,
For that was in the bargain when we struck it.
What good is there in this hard way of living,
Unless we drain more flagons in a year
And kiss more lips than lasting peaceable men
In their long lives? If you'll be of our troop
You'll be as good a leader.

AIBRIC.

Be of your troop!
No, nor with a hundred men like you,
When Forgael's in the other scale. I'd say it
Even if Forgael had not been my master
From earliest childhood, but that being so,
If you will draw that sword out of its scabbard
I'll give my answer.

FIRST SAILOR.

You have awaked him.

[_To SECOND SAILOR. _

We'd better go, for we have lost this chance.

[_They go out. _

FORGAEL.

Have the birds passed us? I could hear your voice.
But there were others.

AIBRIC.

I have seen nothing pass.

FORGAEL.

You're certain of it? I never wake from sleep
But that I am afraid they may have passed,
For they're my only pilots. If I lost them
Straying too far into the north or south,
I'd never come upon the happiness
That has been promised me. I have not seen them
These many days; and yet there must be many
Dying at every moment in the world,
And flying towards their peace.

AIBRIC.

Put by these thoughts,
And listen to me for awhile. The sailors
Are plotting for your death.

FORGAEL.

Have I not given
More riches than they ever hoped to find?
And now they will not follow, while I seek
The only riches that have hit my fancy.

AIBRIC.

What riches can you find in this waste sea
Where no ship sails, where nothing that's alive
Has ever come but those man-headed birds,
Knowing it for the world's end?

FORGAEL.

Where the world ends
The mind is made unchanging, for it finds
Miracle, ecstasy, the impossible hope,
The flagstone under all, the fire of fires,
The roots of the world.

AIBRIC.

Who knows that shadows
May not have driven you mad for their own sport?

FORGAEL.

Do you, too, doubt me? Have you joined their plot?

AIBRIC.

No, no, do not say that. You know right well
That I will never lift a hand against you.

FORGAEL.

Why should you be more faithful than the rest,
Being as doubtful?

AIBRIC.

I have called you master
Too many years to lift a hand against you.

FORGAEL.

Maybe it is but natural to doubt me.
You've never known, I'd lay a wager on it,
A melancholy that a cup of wine,
A lucky battle, or a woman's kiss
Could not amend.

AIBRIC.

I have good spirits enough.
I've nothing to complain of but heartburn,
And that is cured by a boiled liquorice root.

FORGAEL.

If you will give me all your mind awhile--
All, all, the very bottom of the bowl--
I'll show you that I am made differently,
That nothing can amend it but these waters,
Where I am rid of life--the events of the world--
What do you call it? --that old promise-breaker,
The cozening fortune-teller that comes whispering,
'You will have all you have wished for when you have earned
Land for your children or money in a pot. '
And when we have it we are no happier,
Because of that old draught under the door,
Or creaky shoes. And at the end of all
We have been no better off than Seaghan the fool,
That never did a hand's turn. Aibric! Aibric!
We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living
Breathe on the burnished mirror of the world,
And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh,
And find their laughter sweeter to the taste
For that brief sighing.

AIBRIC.

If you had loved some woman--

FORGAEL.

You say that also? You have heard the voices,
For that is what they say--all, all the shadows--
Aengus and Edain, those passionate wanderers,
And all the others; but it must be love
As they have known it. Now the secret's out;
For it is love that I am seeking for,
But of a beautiful, unheard-of kind
That is not in the world.

AIBRIC.

And yet the world
Has beautiful women to please every man.

FORGAEL.

But he that gets their love after the fashion
Loves in brief longing and deceiving hope
And bodily tenderness, and finds that even
The bed of love, that in the imagination
Had seemed to be the giver of all peace,
Is no more than a wine-cup in the tasting,
And as soon finished.

AIBRIC.

All that ever loved
Have loved that way--there is no other way.

FORGAEL.

Yet never have two lovers kissed but they
Believed there was some other near at hand,
And almost wept because they could not find it.

AIBRIC.

When they have twenty years; in middle life
They take a kiss for what a kiss is worth,
And let the dream go by.

FORGAEL.

It's not a dream,
But the reality that makes our passion
As a lamp shadow--no--no lamp, the sun.
What the world's million lips are thirsting for,
Must be substantial somewhere.

AIBRIC.

I have heard the Druids
Mutter such things as they awake from trance.
It may be that the ever-living know it--
No mortal can.

FORGAEL.

Yes; if they give us help.

AIBRIC.

They are besotting you as they besot
The crazy herdsman that will tell his fellows
That he has been all night upon the hills,
Riding to hurley, or in the battle-host
With the ever-living.

FORGAEL.

What if he speak the truth,
And for a dozen hours have been a part
Of that more powerful life?

AIBRIC.

His wife knows better.
Has she not seen him lying like a log,
Or fumbling in a dream about the house?
And if she hear him mutter of wild riders,
She knows that it was but the cart-horse coughing
That set him to the fancy.

FORGAEL.

All would be well
Could we but give us wholly to the dreams,
And get into their world that to the sense
Is shadow, and not linger wretchedly
Among substantial things; for it is dreams
That lift us to the flowing, changing world
That the heart longs for. What is love itself,
Even though it be the lightest of light love,
But dreams that hurry from beyond the world
To make low laughter more than meat and drink,
Though it but set us sighing? Fellow-wanderer,
Could we but mix ourselves into a dream,
Not in its image on the mirror!

AIBRIC.

While
We're in the body that's impossible.

FORGAEL.

And yet I cannot think they're leading me
To death; for they that promised to me love
As those that can outlive the moon have known it,
Had the world's total life gathered up, it seemed,
Into their shining limbs--I've had great teachers.
Aengus and Edain ran up out of the wave--
You'd never doubt that it was life they promised
Had you looked on them face to face as I did,
With so red lips, and running on such feet,
And having such wide-open, shining eyes.

AIBRIC.

It's certain they are leading you to death.