[_He looks at the clothes and turns towards the inner
room, but stops at the sound of cheering outside.
room, but stops at the sound of cheering outside.
Yeats
_
OLD WOMAN.
God save all here!
PETER.
God save you kindly!
OLD WOMAN.
You have good shelter here.
PETER.
You are welcome to whatever shelter we have.
BRIDGET.
Sit down there by the fire and welcome.
OLD WOMAN [_warming her hands_].
There is a hard wind outside.
[_MICHAEL watches her curiously from the door. PETER
comes over to the table. _
PETER.
Have you travelled far to-day?
OLD WOMAN.
I have travelled far, very far; there are few have travelled so far as
myself, and there's many a one that doesn't make me welcome. There was
one that had strong sons I thought were friends of mine, but they were
shearing their sheep, and they wouldn't listen to me.
PETER.
It's a pity indeed for any person to have no place of their own.
OLD WOMAN.
That's true for you indeed, and it's long I'm on the roads since I
first went wandering.
BRIDGET.
It is a wonder you are not worn out with so much wandering.
OLD WOMAN.
Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no
quiet in my heart. When the people see me quiet, they think old age
has come on me and that all the stir has gone out of me. But when the
trouble is on me I must be talking to my friends.
BRIDGET.
What was it put you wandering?
OLD WOMAN.
Too many strangers in the house.
BRIDGET.
Indeed you look as if you'd had your share of trouble.
OLD WOMAN.
I have had trouble indeed.
BRIDGET.
What was it put the trouble on you?
OLD WOMAN.
My land that was taken from me.
PETER.
Was it much land they took from you?
OLD WOMAN.
My four beautiful green fields.
PETER [_aside to BRIDGET_].
Do you think could she be the widow Casey that was put out of her
holding at Kilglass a while ago?
BRIDGET.
She is not. I saw the widow Casey one time at the market in Ballina, a
stout fresh woman.
PETER [_to OLD WOMAN_].
Did you hear a noise of cheering, and you coming up the hill?
OLD WOMAN.
I thought I heard the noise I used to hear when my friends came to
visit me.
[_She begins singing half to herself. _
I will go cry with the woman,
For yellow-haired Donough is dead,
With a hempen rope for a neckcloth,
And a white cloth on his head,----
MICHAEL [_coming from the door_].
What is that you are singing, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
Singing I am about a man I knew one time, yellow-haired Donough that
was hanged in Galway. [_She goes on singing, much louder. _
I am come to cry with you, woman,
My hair is unwound and unbound;
I remember him ploughing his field,
Turning up the red side of the ground,
And building his barn on the hill
With the good mortared stone;
O! we'd have pulled down the gallows
Had it happened in Enniscrone!
MICHAEL.
What was it brought him to his death?
OLD WOMAN.
He died for love of me: many a man has died for love of me.
PETER [_aside to BRIDGET_].
Her trouble has put her wits astray.
MICHAEL.
Is it long since that song was made? Is it long since he got his death?
OLD WOMAN.
Not long, not long. But there were others that died for love of me a
long time ago.
MICHAEL.
Were they neighbours of your own, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
Come here beside me and I'll tell you about them. [_MICHAEL sits down
beside her at the hearth. _] There was a red man of the O'Donnells from
the north, and a man of the O'Sullivans from the south, and there was
one Brian that lost his life at Clontarf by the sea, and there were a
great many in the west, some that died hundreds of years ago, and there
are some that will die to-morrow.
MICHAEL.
Is it in the west that men will die to-morrow?
OLD WOMAN.
Come nearer, nearer to me.
BRIDGET.
Is she right, do you think? Or is she a woman from beyond the world?
PETER.
She doesn't know well what she's talking about, with the want and the
trouble she has gone through.
BRIDGET.
The poor thing, we should treat her well.
PETER.
Give her a drink of milk and a bit of the oaten cake.
BRIDGET.
Maybe we should give her something along with that, to bring her on her
way. A few pence or a shilling itself, and we with so much money in the
house.
PETER.
Indeed I'd not begrudge it to her if we had it to spare, but if we go
running through what we have, we'll soon have to break the hundred
pounds, and that would be a pity.
BRIDGET.
Shame on you, Peter. Give her the shilling and your blessing with it,
or our own luck will go from us.
[_PETER goes to the box and takes out a shilling. _
BRIDGET [_to the OLD WOMAN_].
Will you have a drink of milk, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
It is not food or drink that I want.
PETER [_offering the shilling_].
Here is something for you.
OLD WOMAN.
This is not what I want. It is not silver I want.
PETER.
What is it you would be asking for?
OLD WOMAN.
If anyone would give me help he must give me himself, he must give me
all.
[_PETER goes over to the table staring at the shilling
in his hand in a bewildered way, and stands whispering
to BRIDGET. _
MICHAEL.
Have you no one to care you in your age, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
I have not. With all the lovers that brought me their love, I never set
out the bed for any.
MICHAEL.
Are you lonely going the roads, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
I have my thoughts and I have my hopes.
MICHAEL.
What hopes have you to hold to?
OLD WOMAN.
The hope of getting my beautiful fields back again; the hope of putting
the strangers out of my house.
MICHAEL.
What way will you do that, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
I have good friends that will help me. They are gathering to help me
now. I am not afraid. If they are put down to-day they will get the
upper hand to-morrow. [_She gets up. _] I must be going to meet my
friends. They are coming to help me and I must be there to welcome
them. I must call the neighbours together to welcome them.
MICHAEL.
I will go with you.
BRIDGET.
It is not her friends you have to go and welcome, Michael; it is the
girl coming into the house you have to welcome. You have plenty to do,
it is food and drink you have to bring to the house. The woman that is
coming home is not coming with empty hands; you would not have an empty
house before her. [_To the OLD WOMAN. _] Maybe you don't know, ma'am,
that my son is going to be married to-morrow.
OLD WOMAN.
It is not a man going to his marriage that I look to for help.
PETER [_to BRIDGET_].
Who is she, do you think, at all?
BRIDGET.
You did not tell us your name yet, ma'am.
OLD WOMAN.
Some call me the Poor Old Woman, and there are some that call me
Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
PETER.
I think I knew someone of that name once. Who was it, I wonder? It must
have been someone I knew when I was a boy. No, no; I remember, I heard
it in a song.
OLD WOMAN.
[_Who is standing in the doorway. _]
They are wondering that there were songs made for me; there have been
many songs made for me. I heard one on the wind this morning.
[_Sings. _] Do not make a great keening
When the graves have been dug to-morrow.
Do not call the white-scarfed riders
To the burying that shall be to-morrow.
Do not spread food to call strangers
To the wakes that shall be to-morrow;
Do not give money for prayers
For the dead that shall die to-morrow . . .
they will have no need of prayers, they will have no need of prayers.
MICHAEL.
I do not know what that song means, but tell me something I can do for
you.
PETER.
Come over to me, Michael.
MICHAEL.
Hush, father, listen to her.
OLD WOMAN.
It is a hard service they take that help me. Many that are red-cheeked
now will be pale-cheeked; many that have been free to walk the hills
and the bogs and the rushes, will be sent to walk hard streets in far
countries; many a good plan will be broken; many that have gathered
money will not stay to spend it; many a child will be born and there
will be no father at its christening to give it a name. They that had
red cheeks will have pale cheeks for my sake; and for all that, they
will think they are well paid.
[_She goes out; her voice is heard outside singing. _
They shall be remembered for ever,
They shall be alive for ever,
They shall be speaking for ever,
The people shall hear them for ever.
BRIDGET [_to PETER_].
Look at him, Peter; he has the look of a man that has got the touch.
[_Raising her voice. _] Look here, Michael, at the wedding clothes.
Such grand clothes as these are! You have a right to fit them on now,
it would be a pity to-morrow if they did not fit. The boys would be
laughing at you. Take them, Michael, and go into the room and fit them
on.
[_She puts them on his arm. _
MICHAEL.
What wedding are you talking of? What clothes will I be wearing
to-morrow?
BRIDGET.
These are the clothes you are going to wear when you marry Delia Cahel
to-morrow.
MICHAEL.
I had forgotten that.
[_He looks at the clothes and turns towards the inner
room, but stops at the sound of cheering outside. _
PETER.
There is the shouting come to our own door. What is it has happened?
[Neighbours_ come crowding in, PATRICK and DELIA with
them. _
PATRICK.
There are ships in the Bay; the French are landing at Killala!
[_PETER takes his pipe from his mouth and his hat off
and stands up. The clothes slip from MICHAEL'S arm. _
DELIA.
Michael! [_He takes no notice. _] Michael! [_He turns towards her. _] Why
do you look at me like a stranger?
[_She drops his arm. BRIDGET goes over towards her. _
PATRICK.
The boys are all hurrying down the hill-sides to join the French.
DELIA.
Michael won't be going to join the French.
BRIDGET [_to PETER_].
Tell him not to go, Peter.
PETER.
It's no use. He doesn't hear a word we're saying.
BRIDGET.
Try and coax him over to the fire.
DELIA.
Michael, Michael! You won't leave me! You won't join the French, and we
going to be married!
[_She puts her arms about him, he turns towards her as
if about to yield. _
OLD WOMAN'S _voice outside_.
They shall be speaking for ever,
The people shall hear them for ever.
[_MICHAEL breaks away from DELIA, stands for a second
at the door, then rushes out, following the OLD WOMAN'S
voice. BRIDGET takes DELIA, who is crying silently,
into her arms. _
PETER.
[_To PATRICK, laying a hand on his arm. _]
Did you see an old woman going down the path?
PATRICK.
I did not, but I saw a young girl, and she had the walk of a queen.
THE GOLDEN HELMET
_PERSONS IN THE PLAY_
CUCHULAIN
LEAGERIE
CONAL
EMER, _Cuchulain's wife_
LEAGERIE'S WIFE
CONAL'S WIFE
LAEG, _Cuchulain's chariot-driver_
RED MAN
HORSEBOYS AND SCULLIONS
THREE BLACK MEN
THE GOLDEN HELMET
_A house made of logs. There are two windows at the
back and a door which cuts off one of the corners of
the room. Through the door one can see rocks, which
make the ground outside the door higher than it is
within, and the sea. Through the windows one can see
nothing but the sea. There are three great chairs at
the opposite side to the door, with a table before
them. There are cups and a flagon of ale on the table. _
_At the Abbey Theatre the house is orange red, and the
chairs, tables and flagons black, with a slight purple
tinge which is not clearly distinguishable from the
black. The rocks are black, with a few green touches.
The sea is green and luminous, and all the characters,
except the RED MAN and the _Black Men_ are dressed in
various tints of green, one or two with touches of
purple which looks nearly black. The _Black Men_ are
in dark purple and the RED MAN is altogether dressed
in red. He is very tall and his height is increased by
horns on the Golden Helmet. The Helmet has in reality
more dark green than gold about it. The _Black Men_
have cats' heads painted on their black cloth caps. The
effect is intentionally violent and startling. _
CONAL.
Not a sail, not a wave, and if the sea were not purring a little like a
cat, not a sound. There is no danger yet. I can see a long way for the
moonlight is on the sea. [_A horn sounds. _
LEAGERIE.
Ah, there is something.
CONAL.
It must be from the land, and it is from the sea that danger comes. We
need not be afraid of anything that comes from the land. [_Looking out
of door. _] I cannot see anybody, the rocks and the trees hide a great
part of the pathway upon that side.
LEAGERIE [_sitting at table_].
It sounded like Cuchulain's horn, but that's not possible.
CONAL.
Yes, that's impossible. He will never come home from Scotland. He
has all he wants there. Luck in all he does. Victory and wealth and
happiness flowing in on him, while here at home all goes to rack, and a
man's good name drifts away between night and morning.
LEAGERIE.
I wish he would come home for all that, and put quiet and respect for
those that are more than she is into that young wife of his. Only this
very night your wife and my wife had to forbid her to go into the
dining-hall before them. She is young, and she is Cuchulain's wife, and
so she must spread her tail like a peacock.
CONAL [_at door_].
I can see the horn-blower now, a young man wrapped in a cloak.
LEAGERIE.
Do not let him come in. Tell him to go elsewhere for shelter. This is
no place to seek shelter in.
CONAL.
That is right. I will tell him to go away, for nobody must know the
disgrace that is to fall upon Ireland this night.
LEAGERIE.
Nobody of living men but us two must ever know that.
CONAL [_outside door_].
Go away, go away!
[_A YOUNG MAN covered by a long cloak is standing upon
the rocks outside door. _
YOUNG MAN.
I am a traveller, and I am looking for sleep and food.
CONAL.
A law has been made that nobody is to come into this house to-night.
YOUNG MAN.
Who made that law?
CONAL.
We two made it, and who has so good a right? for we have to guard
this house and to keep it from robbery, and from burning and from
enchantment.
YOUNG MAN.
Then I will unmake the law. Out of my way!
[_He struggles with CONAL and shoves past into the
house. _
CONAL.
I thought no living man but Leagerie could have stood against me; and
Leagerie himself could not have shoved past me. What is more, no living
man could if I were not taken by surprise. How could I expect to find
so great a strength?
LEAGERIE.
Go out of this: there is another house a little further along the
shore; our wives are there with their servants, and they will give you
food and drink.
YOUNG MAN.
It is in this house I will have food and drink.
LEAGERIE [_drawing his sword_].
Go out of this, or I will make you.
[_The YOUNG MAN seizes LEAGERIE'S arm, and thrusting
it up, passes him, and puts his shield over the chair
where there is an empty place. _
YOUNG MAN [_at table_].
It is here I will spend the night, but I won't tell you why till I
have drunk. I am thirsty. What, the flagon full and the cups empty and
Leagerie and Conal there! Why, what's in the wind that Leagerie and
Conal cannot drink?
LEAGERIE.
It is Cuchulain.
CONAL.
Better go away to Scotland again, or if you stay here ask no one what
has happened or what is going to happen.
CUCHULAIN.
What more is there that can happen so strange as that I should come
home after years and that you should bid me begone?
CONAL.
I tell you that this is no fit house to welcome you, for it is a
disgraced house.
CUCHULAIN.
What is it you are hinting at? You were sitting there with ale beside
you and the door open, and quarrelsome thoughts. You are waiting for
something or someone. It is for some messenger who is to bring you to
some spoil, or to some adventure that you will keep for yourselves.
LEAGERIE.
Better tell him, for he has such luck that it may be his luck will
amend ours.
CONAL.
Yes, I had better tell him, for even now at this very door we saw what
luck he had. He had the slope of the ground to help him. Is the sea
quiet?
LEAGERIE [_looks out of window_].
There is nothing stirring.
CONAL.
Cuchulain, a little after you went out of this country we were sitting
here drinking. We were merry. It was late, close on to midnight, when a
strange-looking man with red hair and a great sword in his hand came in
through that door. He asked for ale and we gave it to him, for we were
tired of drinking with one another. He became merry, and for every joke
we made he made a better, and presently we all three got up and danced,
and then we sang, and then he said he would show us a new game. He said
he would stoop down and that one of us was to cut off his head, and
afterwards one of us, or whoever had a mind for the game, was to stoop
down and have his head whipped off. 'You take off my head,' said he,
'and then I take off his head, and that will be a bargain and a debt
between us. A head for a head, that is the game,' said he. We laughed
at him and told him he was drunk, for how could he whip off a head when
his own had been whipped off? Then he began abusing us and calling
us names, so I ran at him and cut his head off, and the head went on
laughing where it lay, and presently he caught it up in his hands and
ran out and plunged into the sea.
CUCHULAIN [_laughs_].
I have imagined as good, when I had as much ale, and believed it too.
LEAGERIE [_at table_].
I tell you, Cuchulain, you never did. You never imagined a story like
this.
CONAL.
Why must you be always putting yourself up against Leagerie and myself?
and what is more, it was no imagination at all. We said to ourselves
that all came out of the flagon, and we laughed, and we said we will
tell nobody about it. We made an oath to tell nobody. But twelve months
after when we were sitting by this table, the flagon between us--
LEAGERIE.
But full up to the brim--
CONAL.
The thought of that story had put us from our drinking--
LEAGERIE.
We were telling it over to one another--
CONAL.
Suddenly that man came in with his head on his shoulders again, and the
big sword in his hand. He asked for payment of his debt, and because
neither I nor Leagerie would let him cut off our heads he began abusing
us and making little of us, and saying that we were a disgrace, and
that all Ireland was disgraced because of us. We had not a word to say.
LEAGERIE.
If you had been here you would have been as silent as we were.
CONAL.
At last he said he would come again in twelve months and give us one
more chance to keep our word and pay our debt. After that he went down
into the sea again. Will he tell the whole world of the disgrace that
has come upon us, do you think?
CUCHULAIN.
Whether he does or does not, we will stand there in the door with our
swords out and drive him down to the sea again.
CONAL.
What is the use of fighting with a man whose head laughs when it has
been cut off?
LEAGERIE.
We might run away, but he would follow us everywhere.
CONAL.
He is coming; the sea is beginning to splash and rumble as it did
before he came the last time.
CUCHULAIN.
Let us shut the door and put our backs against it.
LEAGERIE.
It is too late. Look, there he is at the door. He is standing on the
threshold.
[_A MAN dressed in red, with a great sword and red
ragged hair, and having a Golden Helmet on his head, is
standing on the threshold. _
CUCHULAIN.
Go back into the sea, old red head! If you will take off heads,
take off the head of the sea turtle of Muirthemne, or of the pig
of Connaught that has a moon in his belly, or of that old juggler
Manannan, son of the sea, or of the red man of the Boyne, or of the
King of the Cats, for they are of your own sort, and it may be they
understand your ways. Go, I say, for when a man's head is off it does
not grow again. What are you standing there for? Go down, I say. If I
cannot harm you with the sword I will put you down into the sea with my
hands. Do you laugh at me, old red head?
OLD WOMAN.
God save all here!
PETER.
God save you kindly!
OLD WOMAN.
You have good shelter here.
PETER.
You are welcome to whatever shelter we have.
BRIDGET.
Sit down there by the fire and welcome.
OLD WOMAN [_warming her hands_].
There is a hard wind outside.
[_MICHAEL watches her curiously from the door. PETER
comes over to the table. _
PETER.
Have you travelled far to-day?
OLD WOMAN.
I have travelled far, very far; there are few have travelled so far as
myself, and there's many a one that doesn't make me welcome. There was
one that had strong sons I thought were friends of mine, but they were
shearing their sheep, and they wouldn't listen to me.
PETER.
It's a pity indeed for any person to have no place of their own.
OLD WOMAN.
That's true for you indeed, and it's long I'm on the roads since I
first went wandering.
BRIDGET.
It is a wonder you are not worn out with so much wandering.
OLD WOMAN.
Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no
quiet in my heart. When the people see me quiet, they think old age
has come on me and that all the stir has gone out of me. But when the
trouble is on me I must be talking to my friends.
BRIDGET.
What was it put you wandering?
OLD WOMAN.
Too many strangers in the house.
BRIDGET.
Indeed you look as if you'd had your share of trouble.
OLD WOMAN.
I have had trouble indeed.
BRIDGET.
What was it put the trouble on you?
OLD WOMAN.
My land that was taken from me.
PETER.
Was it much land they took from you?
OLD WOMAN.
My four beautiful green fields.
PETER [_aside to BRIDGET_].
Do you think could she be the widow Casey that was put out of her
holding at Kilglass a while ago?
BRIDGET.
She is not. I saw the widow Casey one time at the market in Ballina, a
stout fresh woman.
PETER [_to OLD WOMAN_].
Did you hear a noise of cheering, and you coming up the hill?
OLD WOMAN.
I thought I heard the noise I used to hear when my friends came to
visit me.
[_She begins singing half to herself. _
I will go cry with the woman,
For yellow-haired Donough is dead,
With a hempen rope for a neckcloth,
And a white cloth on his head,----
MICHAEL [_coming from the door_].
What is that you are singing, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
Singing I am about a man I knew one time, yellow-haired Donough that
was hanged in Galway. [_She goes on singing, much louder. _
I am come to cry with you, woman,
My hair is unwound and unbound;
I remember him ploughing his field,
Turning up the red side of the ground,
And building his barn on the hill
With the good mortared stone;
O! we'd have pulled down the gallows
Had it happened in Enniscrone!
MICHAEL.
What was it brought him to his death?
OLD WOMAN.
He died for love of me: many a man has died for love of me.
PETER [_aside to BRIDGET_].
Her trouble has put her wits astray.
MICHAEL.
Is it long since that song was made? Is it long since he got his death?
OLD WOMAN.
Not long, not long. But there were others that died for love of me a
long time ago.
MICHAEL.
Were they neighbours of your own, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
Come here beside me and I'll tell you about them. [_MICHAEL sits down
beside her at the hearth. _] There was a red man of the O'Donnells from
the north, and a man of the O'Sullivans from the south, and there was
one Brian that lost his life at Clontarf by the sea, and there were a
great many in the west, some that died hundreds of years ago, and there
are some that will die to-morrow.
MICHAEL.
Is it in the west that men will die to-morrow?
OLD WOMAN.
Come nearer, nearer to me.
BRIDGET.
Is she right, do you think? Or is she a woman from beyond the world?
PETER.
She doesn't know well what she's talking about, with the want and the
trouble she has gone through.
BRIDGET.
The poor thing, we should treat her well.
PETER.
Give her a drink of milk and a bit of the oaten cake.
BRIDGET.
Maybe we should give her something along with that, to bring her on her
way. A few pence or a shilling itself, and we with so much money in the
house.
PETER.
Indeed I'd not begrudge it to her if we had it to spare, but if we go
running through what we have, we'll soon have to break the hundred
pounds, and that would be a pity.
BRIDGET.
Shame on you, Peter. Give her the shilling and your blessing with it,
or our own luck will go from us.
[_PETER goes to the box and takes out a shilling. _
BRIDGET [_to the OLD WOMAN_].
Will you have a drink of milk, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
It is not food or drink that I want.
PETER [_offering the shilling_].
Here is something for you.
OLD WOMAN.
This is not what I want. It is not silver I want.
PETER.
What is it you would be asking for?
OLD WOMAN.
If anyone would give me help he must give me himself, he must give me
all.
[_PETER goes over to the table staring at the shilling
in his hand in a bewildered way, and stands whispering
to BRIDGET. _
MICHAEL.
Have you no one to care you in your age, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
I have not. With all the lovers that brought me their love, I never set
out the bed for any.
MICHAEL.
Are you lonely going the roads, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
I have my thoughts and I have my hopes.
MICHAEL.
What hopes have you to hold to?
OLD WOMAN.
The hope of getting my beautiful fields back again; the hope of putting
the strangers out of my house.
MICHAEL.
What way will you do that, ma'am?
OLD WOMAN.
I have good friends that will help me. They are gathering to help me
now. I am not afraid. If they are put down to-day they will get the
upper hand to-morrow. [_She gets up. _] I must be going to meet my
friends. They are coming to help me and I must be there to welcome
them. I must call the neighbours together to welcome them.
MICHAEL.
I will go with you.
BRIDGET.
It is not her friends you have to go and welcome, Michael; it is the
girl coming into the house you have to welcome. You have plenty to do,
it is food and drink you have to bring to the house. The woman that is
coming home is not coming with empty hands; you would not have an empty
house before her. [_To the OLD WOMAN. _] Maybe you don't know, ma'am,
that my son is going to be married to-morrow.
OLD WOMAN.
It is not a man going to his marriage that I look to for help.
PETER [_to BRIDGET_].
Who is she, do you think, at all?
BRIDGET.
You did not tell us your name yet, ma'am.
OLD WOMAN.
Some call me the Poor Old Woman, and there are some that call me
Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
PETER.
I think I knew someone of that name once. Who was it, I wonder? It must
have been someone I knew when I was a boy. No, no; I remember, I heard
it in a song.
OLD WOMAN.
[_Who is standing in the doorway. _]
They are wondering that there were songs made for me; there have been
many songs made for me. I heard one on the wind this morning.
[_Sings. _] Do not make a great keening
When the graves have been dug to-morrow.
Do not call the white-scarfed riders
To the burying that shall be to-morrow.
Do not spread food to call strangers
To the wakes that shall be to-morrow;
Do not give money for prayers
For the dead that shall die to-morrow . . .
they will have no need of prayers, they will have no need of prayers.
MICHAEL.
I do not know what that song means, but tell me something I can do for
you.
PETER.
Come over to me, Michael.
MICHAEL.
Hush, father, listen to her.
OLD WOMAN.
It is a hard service they take that help me. Many that are red-cheeked
now will be pale-cheeked; many that have been free to walk the hills
and the bogs and the rushes, will be sent to walk hard streets in far
countries; many a good plan will be broken; many that have gathered
money will not stay to spend it; many a child will be born and there
will be no father at its christening to give it a name. They that had
red cheeks will have pale cheeks for my sake; and for all that, they
will think they are well paid.
[_She goes out; her voice is heard outside singing. _
They shall be remembered for ever,
They shall be alive for ever,
They shall be speaking for ever,
The people shall hear them for ever.
BRIDGET [_to PETER_].
Look at him, Peter; he has the look of a man that has got the touch.
[_Raising her voice. _] Look here, Michael, at the wedding clothes.
Such grand clothes as these are! You have a right to fit them on now,
it would be a pity to-morrow if they did not fit. The boys would be
laughing at you. Take them, Michael, and go into the room and fit them
on.
[_She puts them on his arm. _
MICHAEL.
What wedding are you talking of? What clothes will I be wearing
to-morrow?
BRIDGET.
These are the clothes you are going to wear when you marry Delia Cahel
to-morrow.
MICHAEL.
I had forgotten that.
[_He looks at the clothes and turns towards the inner
room, but stops at the sound of cheering outside. _
PETER.
There is the shouting come to our own door. What is it has happened?
[Neighbours_ come crowding in, PATRICK and DELIA with
them. _
PATRICK.
There are ships in the Bay; the French are landing at Killala!
[_PETER takes his pipe from his mouth and his hat off
and stands up. The clothes slip from MICHAEL'S arm. _
DELIA.
Michael! [_He takes no notice. _] Michael! [_He turns towards her. _] Why
do you look at me like a stranger?
[_She drops his arm. BRIDGET goes over towards her. _
PATRICK.
The boys are all hurrying down the hill-sides to join the French.
DELIA.
Michael won't be going to join the French.
BRIDGET [_to PETER_].
Tell him not to go, Peter.
PETER.
It's no use. He doesn't hear a word we're saying.
BRIDGET.
Try and coax him over to the fire.
DELIA.
Michael, Michael! You won't leave me! You won't join the French, and we
going to be married!
[_She puts her arms about him, he turns towards her as
if about to yield. _
OLD WOMAN'S _voice outside_.
They shall be speaking for ever,
The people shall hear them for ever.
[_MICHAEL breaks away from DELIA, stands for a second
at the door, then rushes out, following the OLD WOMAN'S
voice. BRIDGET takes DELIA, who is crying silently,
into her arms. _
PETER.
[_To PATRICK, laying a hand on his arm. _]
Did you see an old woman going down the path?
PATRICK.
I did not, but I saw a young girl, and she had the walk of a queen.
THE GOLDEN HELMET
_PERSONS IN THE PLAY_
CUCHULAIN
LEAGERIE
CONAL
EMER, _Cuchulain's wife_
LEAGERIE'S WIFE
CONAL'S WIFE
LAEG, _Cuchulain's chariot-driver_
RED MAN
HORSEBOYS AND SCULLIONS
THREE BLACK MEN
THE GOLDEN HELMET
_A house made of logs. There are two windows at the
back and a door which cuts off one of the corners of
the room. Through the door one can see rocks, which
make the ground outside the door higher than it is
within, and the sea. Through the windows one can see
nothing but the sea. There are three great chairs at
the opposite side to the door, with a table before
them. There are cups and a flagon of ale on the table. _
_At the Abbey Theatre the house is orange red, and the
chairs, tables and flagons black, with a slight purple
tinge which is not clearly distinguishable from the
black. The rocks are black, with a few green touches.
The sea is green and luminous, and all the characters,
except the RED MAN and the _Black Men_ are dressed in
various tints of green, one or two with touches of
purple which looks nearly black. The _Black Men_ are
in dark purple and the RED MAN is altogether dressed
in red. He is very tall and his height is increased by
horns on the Golden Helmet. The Helmet has in reality
more dark green than gold about it. The _Black Men_
have cats' heads painted on their black cloth caps. The
effect is intentionally violent and startling. _
CONAL.
Not a sail, not a wave, and if the sea were not purring a little like a
cat, not a sound. There is no danger yet. I can see a long way for the
moonlight is on the sea. [_A horn sounds. _
LEAGERIE.
Ah, there is something.
CONAL.
It must be from the land, and it is from the sea that danger comes. We
need not be afraid of anything that comes from the land. [_Looking out
of door. _] I cannot see anybody, the rocks and the trees hide a great
part of the pathway upon that side.
LEAGERIE [_sitting at table_].
It sounded like Cuchulain's horn, but that's not possible.
CONAL.
Yes, that's impossible. He will never come home from Scotland. He
has all he wants there. Luck in all he does. Victory and wealth and
happiness flowing in on him, while here at home all goes to rack, and a
man's good name drifts away between night and morning.
LEAGERIE.
I wish he would come home for all that, and put quiet and respect for
those that are more than she is into that young wife of his. Only this
very night your wife and my wife had to forbid her to go into the
dining-hall before them. She is young, and she is Cuchulain's wife, and
so she must spread her tail like a peacock.
CONAL [_at door_].
I can see the horn-blower now, a young man wrapped in a cloak.
LEAGERIE.
Do not let him come in. Tell him to go elsewhere for shelter. This is
no place to seek shelter in.
CONAL.
That is right. I will tell him to go away, for nobody must know the
disgrace that is to fall upon Ireland this night.
LEAGERIE.
Nobody of living men but us two must ever know that.
CONAL [_outside door_].
Go away, go away!
[_A YOUNG MAN covered by a long cloak is standing upon
the rocks outside door. _
YOUNG MAN.
I am a traveller, and I am looking for sleep and food.
CONAL.
A law has been made that nobody is to come into this house to-night.
YOUNG MAN.
Who made that law?
CONAL.
We two made it, and who has so good a right? for we have to guard
this house and to keep it from robbery, and from burning and from
enchantment.
YOUNG MAN.
Then I will unmake the law. Out of my way!
[_He struggles with CONAL and shoves past into the
house. _
CONAL.
I thought no living man but Leagerie could have stood against me; and
Leagerie himself could not have shoved past me. What is more, no living
man could if I were not taken by surprise. How could I expect to find
so great a strength?
LEAGERIE.
Go out of this: there is another house a little further along the
shore; our wives are there with their servants, and they will give you
food and drink.
YOUNG MAN.
It is in this house I will have food and drink.
LEAGERIE [_drawing his sword_].
Go out of this, or I will make you.
[_The YOUNG MAN seizes LEAGERIE'S arm, and thrusting
it up, passes him, and puts his shield over the chair
where there is an empty place. _
YOUNG MAN [_at table_].
It is here I will spend the night, but I won't tell you why till I
have drunk. I am thirsty. What, the flagon full and the cups empty and
Leagerie and Conal there! Why, what's in the wind that Leagerie and
Conal cannot drink?
LEAGERIE.
It is Cuchulain.
CONAL.
Better go away to Scotland again, or if you stay here ask no one what
has happened or what is going to happen.
CUCHULAIN.
What more is there that can happen so strange as that I should come
home after years and that you should bid me begone?
CONAL.
I tell you that this is no fit house to welcome you, for it is a
disgraced house.
CUCHULAIN.
What is it you are hinting at? You were sitting there with ale beside
you and the door open, and quarrelsome thoughts. You are waiting for
something or someone. It is for some messenger who is to bring you to
some spoil, or to some adventure that you will keep for yourselves.
LEAGERIE.
Better tell him, for he has such luck that it may be his luck will
amend ours.
CONAL.
Yes, I had better tell him, for even now at this very door we saw what
luck he had. He had the slope of the ground to help him. Is the sea
quiet?
LEAGERIE [_looks out of window_].
There is nothing stirring.
CONAL.
Cuchulain, a little after you went out of this country we were sitting
here drinking. We were merry. It was late, close on to midnight, when a
strange-looking man with red hair and a great sword in his hand came in
through that door. He asked for ale and we gave it to him, for we were
tired of drinking with one another. He became merry, and for every joke
we made he made a better, and presently we all three got up and danced,
and then we sang, and then he said he would show us a new game. He said
he would stoop down and that one of us was to cut off his head, and
afterwards one of us, or whoever had a mind for the game, was to stoop
down and have his head whipped off. 'You take off my head,' said he,
'and then I take off his head, and that will be a bargain and a debt
between us. A head for a head, that is the game,' said he. We laughed
at him and told him he was drunk, for how could he whip off a head when
his own had been whipped off? Then he began abusing us and calling
us names, so I ran at him and cut his head off, and the head went on
laughing where it lay, and presently he caught it up in his hands and
ran out and plunged into the sea.
CUCHULAIN [_laughs_].
I have imagined as good, when I had as much ale, and believed it too.
LEAGERIE [_at table_].
I tell you, Cuchulain, you never did. You never imagined a story like
this.
CONAL.
Why must you be always putting yourself up against Leagerie and myself?
and what is more, it was no imagination at all. We said to ourselves
that all came out of the flagon, and we laughed, and we said we will
tell nobody about it. We made an oath to tell nobody. But twelve months
after when we were sitting by this table, the flagon between us--
LEAGERIE.
But full up to the brim--
CONAL.
The thought of that story had put us from our drinking--
LEAGERIE.
We were telling it over to one another--
CONAL.
Suddenly that man came in with his head on his shoulders again, and the
big sword in his hand. He asked for payment of his debt, and because
neither I nor Leagerie would let him cut off our heads he began abusing
us and making little of us, and saying that we were a disgrace, and
that all Ireland was disgraced because of us. We had not a word to say.
LEAGERIE.
If you had been here you would have been as silent as we were.
CONAL.
At last he said he would come again in twelve months and give us one
more chance to keep our word and pay our debt. After that he went down
into the sea again. Will he tell the whole world of the disgrace that
has come upon us, do you think?
CUCHULAIN.
Whether he does or does not, we will stand there in the door with our
swords out and drive him down to the sea again.
CONAL.
What is the use of fighting with a man whose head laughs when it has
been cut off?
LEAGERIE.
We might run away, but he would follow us everywhere.
CONAL.
He is coming; the sea is beginning to splash and rumble as it did
before he came the last time.
CUCHULAIN.
Let us shut the door and put our backs against it.
LEAGERIE.
It is too late. Look, there he is at the door. He is standing on the
threshold.
[_A MAN dressed in red, with a great sword and red
ragged hair, and having a Golden Helmet on his head, is
standing on the threshold. _
CUCHULAIN.
Go back into the sea, old red head! If you will take off heads,
take off the head of the sea turtle of Muirthemne, or of the pig
of Connaught that has a moon in his belly, or of that old juggler
Manannan, son of the sea, or of the red man of the Boyne, or of the
King of the Cats, for they are of your own sort, and it may be they
understand your ways. Go, I say, for when a man's head is off it does
not grow again. What are you standing there for? Go down, I say. If I
cannot harm you with the sword I will put you down into the sea with my
hands. Do you laugh at me, old red head?
