Boxes of
precious
spice.
Yeats
And I!
And I!
[_FORGAEL plays the harp. _
FIRST SAILOR.
[_Falling into a dream suddenly. _]
But you were saying there is somebody
Upon that other ship we are to wake.
You did not know what brought him to his end,
But it was sudden.
SECOND SAILOR.
You are in the right;
I had forgotten that we must go wake him.
DECTORA.
He has flung a Druid spell upon the air,
And set you dreaming.
SECOND SAILOR.
How can we have a wake
When we have neither brown nor yellow ale?
FIRST SAILOR.
I saw a flagon of brown ale aboard her.
THIRD SAILOR.
How can we raise the keen that do not know
What name to call him by?
FIRST SAILOR.
Come to his ship.
His name will come into our thoughts in a minute.
I know that he died a thousand years ago,
And has not yet been waked.
SECOND SAILOR [_beginning to keen_].
Ohone! O! O! O!
The yew bough has been broken into two,
And all the birds are scattered.
ALL THE SAILORS.
O! O! O! O!
[_They go out keening. _
DECTORA.
Protect me now, gods, that my people swear by.
[_AIBRIC has risen from the ground where he had fallen.
He has begun looking for his sword as if in a dream. _
AIBRIC.
Where is my sword that fell out of my hand
When I first heard the news? Ah, there it is!
[_He goes dreamily towards the sword, but DECTORA runs
at it and takes it up before he can reach it. _
AIBRIC [_sleepily_].
Queen, give it me.
DECTORA.
No, I have need of it.
AIBRIC.
Why do you need a sword? But you may keep it,
Now that he's dead I have no need of it,
For everything is gone.
A SAILOR.
[_Calling from the other ship. _]
Come hither, Aibric,
And tell me who it is that we are waking.
AIBRIC.
[_Half to DECTORA, half to himself. _]
What name had that dead king? Arthur of Britain?
No, no--not Arthur. I remember now.
It was golden-armed Iollan, and he died
Brokenhearted, having lost his queen
Through wicked spells. That is not all the tale,
For he was killed. O! O! O! O! O! O!
For golden-armed Iollan has been killed.
[_He goes out. _
[_While he has been speaking, and through part of what
follows, one hears the wailing of the SAILORS from the
other ship. DECTORA stands with the sword lifted in
front of FORGAEL. _
DECTORA.
I will end all your magic on the instant.
[_Her voice becomes dreamy, and she lowers the sword
slowly, and finally lets it fall. She spreads out her
hair. She takes off her crown and lays it upon the
deck. _
This sword is to lie beside him in the grave.
It was in all his battles. I will spread my hair,
And wring my hands, and wail him bitterly,
For I have heard that he was proud and laughing,
Blue-eyed, and a quick runner on bare feet,
And that he died a thousand years ago.
O! O! O!
[_FORGAEL changes the tune. _
But no, that is not it.
I knew him well, and while I heard him laughing
They killed him at my feet. O! O! O! O!
For golden-armed Iollan that I loved.
But what is it that made me say I loved him?
It was that harper put it in my thoughts,
But it is true. Why did they run upon him,
And beat the golden helmet with their swords?
FORGAEL.
Do you not know me, lady? I am he
That you are weeping for.
DECTORA.
No, for he is dead.
O! O! O! for golden-armed Iollan.
FORGAEL.
It was so given out, but I will prove
That the grave-diggers in a dreamy frenzy
Have buried nothing but my golden arms.
Listen to that low-laughing string of the moon
And you will recollect my face and voice,
For you have listened to me playing it
These thousand years.
[_He starts up, listening to the birds. The harp
slips from his hands, and remains leaning
against the bulwarks behind him. The light
goes out of it. _
What are the birds at there?
Why are they all a-flutter of a sudden?
What are you calling out above the mast?
If railing and reproach and mockery
Because I have awakened her to love
My magic strings, I'll make this answer to it:
Being driven on by voices and by dreams
That were clear messages from the ever-living,
I have done right. What could I but obey?
And yet you make a clamour of reproach.
DECTORA [_laughing_].
Why, it's a wonder out of reckoning
That I should keen him from the full of the moon
To the horn, and he be hale and hearty.
FORGAEL.
How have I wronged her now that she is merry?
But no, no, no! your cry is not against me.
You know the councils of the ever-living,
And all that tossing of your wings is joy,
And all that murmuring's but a marriage song;
But if it be reproach, I answer this:
There is not one among you that made love
By any other means. You call it passion,
Consideration, generosity;
But it was all deceit, and flattery
To win a woman in her own despite,
For love is war, and there is hatred in it;
And if you say that she came willingly--
DECTORA.
Why do you turn away and hide your face,
That I would look upon for ever?
FORGAEL.
My grief.
DECTORA.
Have I not loved you for a thousand years?
FORGAEL.
I never have been golden-armed Iollan.
DECTORA.
I do not understand. I know your face
Better than my own hands.
FORGAEL.
I have deceived you
Out of all reckoning.
DECTORA.
Is it not true
That you were born a thousand years ago,
In islands where the children of Aengus wind
In happy dances under a windy moon,
And that you'll bring me there?
FORGAEL.
I have deceived you;
I have deceived you utterly.
DECTORA.
How can that be?
Is it that though your eyes are full of love
Some other woman has a claim on you,
And I've but half?
FORGAEL.
Oh, no!
DECTORA.
And if there is,
If there be half a hundred more, what matter?
I'll never give another thought to it;
No, no, nor half a thought; but do not speak.
Women are hard and proud and stubborn-hearted,
Their heads being turned with praise and flattery;
And that is why their lovers are afraid
To tell them a plain story.
FORGAEL.
That's not the story;
But I have done so great a wrong against you,
There is no measure that it would not burst.
I will confess it all.
DECTORA.
What do I care,
Now that my body has begun to dream,
And you have grown to be a burning sod
In the imagination and intellect?
If something that's most fabulous were true--
If you had taken me by magic spells,
And killed a lover or husband at my feet--
I would not let you speak, for I would know
That it was yesterday and not to-day
I loved him; I would cover up my ears,
As I am doing now. [_A pause. _] Why do you weep?
FORGAEL.
I weep because I've nothing for your eyes
But desolate waters and a battered ship.
DECTORA.
O, why do you not lift your eyes to mine?
FORGAEL.
I weep--I weep because bare night's above,
And not a roof of ivory and gold.
DECTORA.
I would grow jealous of the ivory roof,
And strike the golden pillars with my hands.
I would that there was nothing in the world
But my beloved--that night and day had perished,
And all that is and all that is to be,
All that is not the meeting of our lips.
FORGAEL.
I too, I too. Why do you look away?
Am I to fear the waves, or is the moon
My enemy?
DECTORA.
I looked upon the moon,
Longing to knead and pull it into shape
That I might lay it on your head as a crown.
But now it is your thoughts that wander away,
For you are looking at the sea. Do you not know
How great a wrong it is to let one's thought
Wander a moment when one is in love?
[_He has moved away. She follows him. He is
looking out over the sea, shading his eyes. _]
Why are you looking at the sea?
FORGAEL.
Look there!
DECTORA.
What is there but a troop of ash-grey birds
That fly into the west?
FORGAEL.
But listen, listen!
DECTORA.
What is there but the crying of the birds?
FORGAEL.
If you'll but listen closely to that crying
You'll hear them calling out to one another
With human voices.
DECTORA.
O, I can hear them now.
What are they? Unto what country do they fly?
FORGAEL.
To unimaginable happiness.
They have been circling over our heads in the air,
But now that they have taken to the road
We have to follow, for they are our pilots;
And though they're but the colour of grey ash,
They're crying out, could you but hear their words,
'There is a country at the end of the world
Where no child's born but to outlive the moon. '
[_The SAILORS come in with AIBRIC. They are in great
excitement. _
FIRST SAILOR.
The hold is full of treasure.
SECOND SAILOR.
Full to the hatches.
FIRST SAILOR.
Treasure and treasure.
THIRD SAILOR.
Boxes of precious spice.
FIRST SAILOR.
Ivory images with amethyst eyes.
THIRD SAILOR.
Dragons with eyes of ruby.
FIRST SAILOR.
The whole ship
Flashes as if it were a net of herrings.
THIRD SAILOR.
Let's home; I'd give some rubies to a woman.
SECOND SAILOR.
There's somebody I'd give the amethyst eyes to.
FIRST SAILOR.
Let's home and spend it in our villages.
AIBRIC.
[_Silencing them with a gesture. _]
We would return to our own country, Forgael,
For we have found a treasure that's so great
Imagination cannot reckon it.
And having lit upon this woman there,
What more have you to look for on the seas?
FORGAEL.
I cannot--I am going on to the end.
As for this woman, I think she is coming with me.
AIBRIC.
The ever-living have made you mad; but no,
It was this woman in her woman's vengeance
That drove you to it, and I fool enough
To fancy that she'd bring you home again.
'Twas you that egged him to it, for you know
That he is being driven to his death.
DECTORA.
That is not true, for he has promised me
An unimaginable happiness.
AIBRIC.
And if that happiness be more than dreams,
More than the froth, the feather, the dustwhirl,
The crazy nothing that I think it is,
It shall be in the country of the dead,
If there be such a country.
DECTORA.
No, not there,
But in some island where the life of the world
Leaps upward, as if all the streams o' the world
Had run into one fountain.
AIBRIC.
Speak to him.
He knows that he is taking you to death;
Speak--he will not deny it.
DECTORA.
Is that true?
FORGAEL.
I do not know for certain, but I know
That I have the best of pilots.
AIBRIC.
Shadows, illusions,
That the shape-changers, the ever-laughing ones,
The immortal mockers have cast into his mind,
Or called before his eyes.
DECTORA.
O carry me
To some sure country, some familiar place.
Have we not everything that life can give
In having one another?
FORGAEL.
How could I rest
If I refused the messengers and pilots
With all those sights and all that crying out?
DECTORA.
But I will cover up your eyes and ears,
That you may never hear the cry of the birds,
Or look upon them.
FORGAEL.
Were they but lowlier
I'd do your will, but they are too high--too high.
DECTORA.
Being too high, their heady prophecies
But harry us with hopes that come to nothing,
Because we are not proud, imperishable,
Alone and winged.
FORGAEL.
Our love shall be like theirs
When we have put their changeless image on.
DECTORA.
I am a woman, I die at every breath.
AIBRIC.
Let the birds scatter for the tree is broken.
And there's no help in words. [_To the SAILORS. _] To the other ship,
And I will follow you and cut the rope
When I have said farewell to this man here,
For neither I nor any living man
Will look upon his face again.
[_The SAILORS go out. _
FORGAEL [_to DECTORA_]
Go with him,
For he will shelter you and bring you home.
AIBRIC.
[_Taking FORGAEL'S hand. _]
I'll do it for his sake.
DECTORA.
No. Take this sword
And cut the rope, for I go on with Forgael.
AIBRIC.
[_Half-falling into the keen. _]
The yew bough has been broken into two,
And all the birds are scattered--O! O! O!
Farewell! farewell!
[_He goes out. _
DECTORA.
The sword is in the rope--
The rope's in two? it falls into the sea,
It whirls into the foam. O ancient worm,
Dragon that loved the world and held us to it,
You are broken, you are broken. The world drifts away,
And I am left alone with my beloved,
Who cannot put me from his sight for ever.
We are alone for ever, and I laugh,
Forgael, because you cannot put me from you.
The mist has covered the heavens, and you and I
Shall be alone for ever. We two--this crown--
I half remember. It has been in my dreams.
Bend lower, O king, that I may crown you with it.
O flower of the branch, O bird among the leaves,
O silver fish that my two hands have taken
Out of the running stream, O morning star,
Trembling in the blue heavens like a white fawn
Upon the misty border of the wood,
Bend lower, that I may cover you with my hair,
For we will gaze upon this world no longer.
[_The scene darkens, and the harp once more begins
to burn as with a faint fire. FORGAEL is kneeling at
DECTORA'S feet. _
FORGAEL.
[_Gathering DECTORA'S hair about him. _]
Beloved, having dragged the net about us,
And knitted mesh to mesh, we grow immortal;
And that old harp awakens of itself
To cry aloud to the grey birds, and dreams,
That have had dreams for father, live in us.
APPENDIX I
ACTING VERSION OF _THE SHADOWY WATERS_
FORGAEL
AIBRIC
SAILORS
DECTORA
THE scene is the same as in the text except that the sail is dull
copper colour. The poop rises several feet above the stage, and from
the overhanging stern hangs a lanthorn with a greenish light. The sea
or sky is represented by a semi-circular cloth of which nothing can be
seen except a dark abyss, for the stage is lighted by arc-lights so
placed upon a bridge over the proscenium as to throw a perpendicular
light upon the stage. The light is dim, and there are deep shadows
which waver as if with the passage of clouds over the moon. The persons
are dressed in blue and green, and move but little. Some sailors are
discovered crouching by the sail. Forgael is asleep and Aibric standing
by the tiller on the raised poop.
_First Sailor. _ It is long enough, and too long, Forgael has been
bringing us through the waste places of the great sea.
_Second Sailor. _ We did not meet with a ship to make a prey of these
eight weeks, or any shore or island to plunder or to harry. It is a
hard thing, age to be coming on me, and I not to get the chance of
doing a robbery that would enable me to live quiet and honest to the
end of my lifetime.
_First Sailor. _ We are out since the new moon. What is worse again, it
is the way we are in a ship, the barrels empty and my throat shrivelled
with drought, and nothing to quench it but water only.
_Forgael_ [_in his sleep_]. Yes; there, there; that hair that is the
colour of burning.
_First Sailor. _ Listen to him now, calling out in his sleep.
_Forgael_ [_in his sleep_]. That pale forehead, that hair the colour of
burning.
_First Sailor. _ Some crazy dream he is in, and believe me it is no
crazier than the thought he has waking. He is not the first that has
had the wits drawn out from him through shadows and fantasies.
_Second Sailor. _ That is what ails him. I have been thinking it this
good while.
_First Sailor. _ Do you remember that galley we sank at the time of the
full moon?
_Second Sailor. _ I do. We were becalmed the same night, and he sat up
there playing that old harp of his until the moon had set.
_First Sailor. _ I was sleeping up there by the bulwark, and when I woke
in the sound of the harp a change came over my eyes, and I could see
very strange things. The dead were floating upon the sea yet, and it
seemed as if the life that went out of every one of them had turned to
the shape of a man-headed bird--grey they were, and they rose up of a
sudden and called out with voices like our own, and flew away singing
to the west. Words like this they were singing: 'Happiness beyond
measure, happiness where the sun dies. '
_Second Sailor. _ I understand well what they are doing. My mother
used to be talking of birds of the sort. They are sent by the lasting
watchers to lead men away from this world and its women to some place
of shining women that cast no shadow, having lived before the making of
the earth. But I have no mind to go following him to that place.
_First Sailor. _ Let us creep up to him and kill him in his sleep.
_Second Sailor. _ I would have made an end of him long ago, but that I
was in dread of his harp. It is said that when he plays upon it he has
power over all the listeners, with or without the body, seen or unseen,
and any man that listens grows to be as mad as himself.
_First Sailor. _ What way can he play it, being in his sleep?
_Second Sailor. _ But who would be our captain then to make out a course
from the Bear and the Pole-star, and to bring us back home?
_First Sailor. _ I have that thought out. We must have Aibric with us.
He knows the constellations as well as Forgael. He is a good hand with
the sword. Join with us; be our captain, Aibric. We are agreed to put
an end to Forgael, before he wakes. There is no man but will be glad of
it when it is done. Join with us, and you will have the captain's share
and profit.
_Aibric. _ Silence! for you have taken Forgael's pay.
_First Sailor. _ Little pay we have had this twelvemonth. We would never
have turned against him if he had brought us, as he promised, into seas
that would be thick with ships. That was the bargain. What is the use
of knocking about and fighting as we do unless we get the chance to
drink more wine and kiss more women than lasting peaceable men through
their long lifetime? You will be as good a leader as ever he was
himself, if you will but join us.
_Aibric. _ And do you think that I will join myself
To men like you, and murder him who has been
My master from my earliest childhood up?
No! nor to a world of men like you
When Forgael's in the other scale. Come! come!
I'll answer to more purpose when you have drawn
That sword out of its scabbard.
_First Sailor. _ You have awaked him. We had best go, for we have missed
this chance.
_Forgael. _ Have the birds passed us? I could hear your voice.
But there were others.
_Aibric. _ I have seen nothing pass.
_Forgael. _ You are certain of it? I never wake from sleep
But that I am afraid they may have passed;
For they're my only pilots. I have not seen them
For many days, and yet there must be many
Dying at every moment in the world.
_Aibric. _ They have all but driven you crazy, and already
The sailors have been plotting for your death,
And all the birds have cried into your ears
Has lured you on to death.
_Forgael. _ No; but they promised--
_Aibric. _ I know their promises. You have told me all.
They are to bring you to unheard-of passion,
To some strange love the world knows nothing of,
Some ever-living woman as you think,
One that can cast no shadow, being unearthly.
But that's all folly. Turn the ship about,
Sail home again, be some fair woman's friend;
Be satisfied to live like other men,
And drive impossible dreams away. 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.
[_FORGAEL plays the harp. _
FIRST SAILOR.
[_Falling into a dream suddenly. _]
But you were saying there is somebody
Upon that other ship we are to wake.
You did not know what brought him to his end,
But it was sudden.
SECOND SAILOR.
You are in the right;
I had forgotten that we must go wake him.
DECTORA.
He has flung a Druid spell upon the air,
And set you dreaming.
SECOND SAILOR.
How can we have a wake
When we have neither brown nor yellow ale?
FIRST SAILOR.
I saw a flagon of brown ale aboard her.
THIRD SAILOR.
How can we raise the keen that do not know
What name to call him by?
FIRST SAILOR.
Come to his ship.
His name will come into our thoughts in a minute.
I know that he died a thousand years ago,
And has not yet been waked.
SECOND SAILOR [_beginning to keen_].
Ohone! O! O! O!
The yew bough has been broken into two,
And all the birds are scattered.
ALL THE SAILORS.
O! O! O! O!
[_They go out keening. _
DECTORA.
Protect me now, gods, that my people swear by.
[_AIBRIC has risen from the ground where he had fallen.
He has begun looking for his sword as if in a dream. _
AIBRIC.
Where is my sword that fell out of my hand
When I first heard the news? Ah, there it is!
[_He goes dreamily towards the sword, but DECTORA runs
at it and takes it up before he can reach it. _
AIBRIC [_sleepily_].
Queen, give it me.
DECTORA.
No, I have need of it.
AIBRIC.
Why do you need a sword? But you may keep it,
Now that he's dead I have no need of it,
For everything is gone.
A SAILOR.
[_Calling from the other ship. _]
Come hither, Aibric,
And tell me who it is that we are waking.
AIBRIC.
[_Half to DECTORA, half to himself. _]
What name had that dead king? Arthur of Britain?
No, no--not Arthur. I remember now.
It was golden-armed Iollan, and he died
Brokenhearted, having lost his queen
Through wicked spells. That is not all the tale,
For he was killed. O! O! O! O! O! O!
For golden-armed Iollan has been killed.
[_He goes out. _
[_While he has been speaking, and through part of what
follows, one hears the wailing of the SAILORS from the
other ship. DECTORA stands with the sword lifted in
front of FORGAEL. _
DECTORA.
I will end all your magic on the instant.
[_Her voice becomes dreamy, and she lowers the sword
slowly, and finally lets it fall. She spreads out her
hair. She takes off her crown and lays it upon the
deck. _
This sword is to lie beside him in the grave.
It was in all his battles. I will spread my hair,
And wring my hands, and wail him bitterly,
For I have heard that he was proud and laughing,
Blue-eyed, and a quick runner on bare feet,
And that he died a thousand years ago.
O! O! O!
[_FORGAEL changes the tune. _
But no, that is not it.
I knew him well, and while I heard him laughing
They killed him at my feet. O! O! O! O!
For golden-armed Iollan that I loved.
But what is it that made me say I loved him?
It was that harper put it in my thoughts,
But it is true. Why did they run upon him,
And beat the golden helmet with their swords?
FORGAEL.
Do you not know me, lady? I am he
That you are weeping for.
DECTORA.
No, for he is dead.
O! O! O! for golden-armed Iollan.
FORGAEL.
It was so given out, but I will prove
That the grave-diggers in a dreamy frenzy
Have buried nothing but my golden arms.
Listen to that low-laughing string of the moon
And you will recollect my face and voice,
For you have listened to me playing it
These thousand years.
[_He starts up, listening to the birds. The harp
slips from his hands, and remains leaning
against the bulwarks behind him. The light
goes out of it. _
What are the birds at there?
Why are they all a-flutter of a sudden?
What are you calling out above the mast?
If railing and reproach and mockery
Because I have awakened her to love
My magic strings, I'll make this answer to it:
Being driven on by voices and by dreams
That were clear messages from the ever-living,
I have done right. What could I but obey?
And yet you make a clamour of reproach.
DECTORA [_laughing_].
Why, it's a wonder out of reckoning
That I should keen him from the full of the moon
To the horn, and he be hale and hearty.
FORGAEL.
How have I wronged her now that she is merry?
But no, no, no! your cry is not against me.
You know the councils of the ever-living,
And all that tossing of your wings is joy,
And all that murmuring's but a marriage song;
But if it be reproach, I answer this:
There is not one among you that made love
By any other means. You call it passion,
Consideration, generosity;
But it was all deceit, and flattery
To win a woman in her own despite,
For love is war, and there is hatred in it;
And if you say that she came willingly--
DECTORA.
Why do you turn away and hide your face,
That I would look upon for ever?
FORGAEL.
My grief.
DECTORA.
Have I not loved you for a thousand years?
FORGAEL.
I never have been golden-armed Iollan.
DECTORA.
I do not understand. I know your face
Better than my own hands.
FORGAEL.
I have deceived you
Out of all reckoning.
DECTORA.
Is it not true
That you were born a thousand years ago,
In islands where the children of Aengus wind
In happy dances under a windy moon,
And that you'll bring me there?
FORGAEL.
I have deceived you;
I have deceived you utterly.
DECTORA.
How can that be?
Is it that though your eyes are full of love
Some other woman has a claim on you,
And I've but half?
FORGAEL.
Oh, no!
DECTORA.
And if there is,
If there be half a hundred more, what matter?
I'll never give another thought to it;
No, no, nor half a thought; but do not speak.
Women are hard and proud and stubborn-hearted,
Their heads being turned with praise and flattery;
And that is why their lovers are afraid
To tell them a plain story.
FORGAEL.
That's not the story;
But I have done so great a wrong against you,
There is no measure that it would not burst.
I will confess it all.
DECTORA.
What do I care,
Now that my body has begun to dream,
And you have grown to be a burning sod
In the imagination and intellect?
If something that's most fabulous were true--
If you had taken me by magic spells,
And killed a lover or husband at my feet--
I would not let you speak, for I would know
That it was yesterday and not to-day
I loved him; I would cover up my ears,
As I am doing now. [_A pause. _] Why do you weep?
FORGAEL.
I weep because I've nothing for your eyes
But desolate waters and a battered ship.
DECTORA.
O, why do you not lift your eyes to mine?
FORGAEL.
I weep--I weep because bare night's above,
And not a roof of ivory and gold.
DECTORA.
I would grow jealous of the ivory roof,
And strike the golden pillars with my hands.
I would that there was nothing in the world
But my beloved--that night and day had perished,
And all that is and all that is to be,
All that is not the meeting of our lips.
FORGAEL.
I too, I too. Why do you look away?
Am I to fear the waves, or is the moon
My enemy?
DECTORA.
I looked upon the moon,
Longing to knead and pull it into shape
That I might lay it on your head as a crown.
But now it is your thoughts that wander away,
For you are looking at the sea. Do you not know
How great a wrong it is to let one's thought
Wander a moment when one is in love?
[_He has moved away. She follows him. He is
looking out over the sea, shading his eyes. _]
Why are you looking at the sea?
FORGAEL.
Look there!
DECTORA.
What is there but a troop of ash-grey birds
That fly into the west?
FORGAEL.
But listen, listen!
DECTORA.
What is there but the crying of the birds?
FORGAEL.
If you'll but listen closely to that crying
You'll hear them calling out to one another
With human voices.
DECTORA.
O, I can hear them now.
What are they? Unto what country do they fly?
FORGAEL.
To unimaginable happiness.
They have been circling over our heads in the air,
But now that they have taken to the road
We have to follow, for they are our pilots;
And though they're but the colour of grey ash,
They're crying out, could you but hear their words,
'There is a country at the end of the world
Where no child's born but to outlive the moon. '
[_The SAILORS come in with AIBRIC. They are in great
excitement. _
FIRST SAILOR.
The hold is full of treasure.
SECOND SAILOR.
Full to the hatches.
FIRST SAILOR.
Treasure and treasure.
THIRD SAILOR.
Boxes of precious spice.
FIRST SAILOR.
Ivory images with amethyst eyes.
THIRD SAILOR.
Dragons with eyes of ruby.
FIRST SAILOR.
The whole ship
Flashes as if it were a net of herrings.
THIRD SAILOR.
Let's home; I'd give some rubies to a woman.
SECOND SAILOR.
There's somebody I'd give the amethyst eyes to.
FIRST SAILOR.
Let's home and spend it in our villages.
AIBRIC.
[_Silencing them with a gesture. _]
We would return to our own country, Forgael,
For we have found a treasure that's so great
Imagination cannot reckon it.
And having lit upon this woman there,
What more have you to look for on the seas?
FORGAEL.
I cannot--I am going on to the end.
As for this woman, I think she is coming with me.
AIBRIC.
The ever-living have made you mad; but no,
It was this woman in her woman's vengeance
That drove you to it, and I fool enough
To fancy that she'd bring you home again.
'Twas you that egged him to it, for you know
That he is being driven to his death.
DECTORA.
That is not true, for he has promised me
An unimaginable happiness.
AIBRIC.
And if that happiness be more than dreams,
More than the froth, the feather, the dustwhirl,
The crazy nothing that I think it is,
It shall be in the country of the dead,
If there be such a country.
DECTORA.
No, not there,
But in some island where the life of the world
Leaps upward, as if all the streams o' the world
Had run into one fountain.
AIBRIC.
Speak to him.
He knows that he is taking you to death;
Speak--he will not deny it.
DECTORA.
Is that true?
FORGAEL.
I do not know for certain, but I know
That I have the best of pilots.
AIBRIC.
Shadows, illusions,
That the shape-changers, the ever-laughing ones,
The immortal mockers have cast into his mind,
Or called before his eyes.
DECTORA.
O carry me
To some sure country, some familiar place.
Have we not everything that life can give
In having one another?
FORGAEL.
How could I rest
If I refused the messengers and pilots
With all those sights and all that crying out?
DECTORA.
But I will cover up your eyes and ears,
That you may never hear the cry of the birds,
Or look upon them.
FORGAEL.
Were they but lowlier
I'd do your will, but they are too high--too high.
DECTORA.
Being too high, their heady prophecies
But harry us with hopes that come to nothing,
Because we are not proud, imperishable,
Alone and winged.
FORGAEL.
Our love shall be like theirs
When we have put their changeless image on.
DECTORA.
I am a woman, I die at every breath.
AIBRIC.
Let the birds scatter for the tree is broken.
And there's no help in words. [_To the SAILORS. _] To the other ship,
And I will follow you and cut the rope
When I have said farewell to this man here,
For neither I nor any living man
Will look upon his face again.
[_The SAILORS go out. _
FORGAEL [_to DECTORA_]
Go with him,
For he will shelter you and bring you home.
AIBRIC.
[_Taking FORGAEL'S hand. _]
I'll do it for his sake.
DECTORA.
No. Take this sword
And cut the rope, for I go on with Forgael.
AIBRIC.
[_Half-falling into the keen. _]
The yew bough has been broken into two,
And all the birds are scattered--O! O! O!
Farewell! farewell!
[_He goes out. _
DECTORA.
The sword is in the rope--
The rope's in two? it falls into the sea,
It whirls into the foam. O ancient worm,
Dragon that loved the world and held us to it,
You are broken, you are broken. The world drifts away,
And I am left alone with my beloved,
Who cannot put me from his sight for ever.
We are alone for ever, and I laugh,
Forgael, because you cannot put me from you.
The mist has covered the heavens, and you and I
Shall be alone for ever. We two--this crown--
I half remember. It has been in my dreams.
Bend lower, O king, that I may crown you with it.
O flower of the branch, O bird among the leaves,
O silver fish that my two hands have taken
Out of the running stream, O morning star,
Trembling in the blue heavens like a white fawn
Upon the misty border of the wood,
Bend lower, that I may cover you with my hair,
For we will gaze upon this world no longer.
[_The scene darkens, and the harp once more begins
to burn as with a faint fire. FORGAEL is kneeling at
DECTORA'S feet. _
FORGAEL.
[_Gathering DECTORA'S hair about him. _]
Beloved, having dragged the net about us,
And knitted mesh to mesh, we grow immortal;
And that old harp awakens of itself
To cry aloud to the grey birds, and dreams,
That have had dreams for father, live in us.
APPENDIX I
ACTING VERSION OF _THE SHADOWY WATERS_
FORGAEL
AIBRIC
SAILORS
DECTORA
THE scene is the same as in the text except that the sail is dull
copper colour. The poop rises several feet above the stage, and from
the overhanging stern hangs a lanthorn with a greenish light. The sea
or sky is represented by a semi-circular cloth of which nothing can be
seen except a dark abyss, for the stage is lighted by arc-lights so
placed upon a bridge over the proscenium as to throw a perpendicular
light upon the stage. The light is dim, and there are deep shadows
which waver as if with the passage of clouds over the moon. The persons
are dressed in blue and green, and move but little. Some sailors are
discovered crouching by the sail. Forgael is asleep and Aibric standing
by the tiller on the raised poop.
_First Sailor. _ It is long enough, and too long, Forgael has been
bringing us through the waste places of the great sea.
_Second Sailor. _ We did not meet with a ship to make a prey of these
eight weeks, or any shore or island to plunder or to harry. It is a
hard thing, age to be coming on me, and I not to get the chance of
doing a robbery that would enable me to live quiet and honest to the
end of my lifetime.
_First Sailor. _ We are out since the new moon. What is worse again, it
is the way we are in a ship, the barrels empty and my throat shrivelled
with drought, and nothing to quench it but water only.
_Forgael_ [_in his sleep_]. Yes; there, there; that hair that is the
colour of burning.
_First Sailor. _ Listen to him now, calling out in his sleep.
_Forgael_ [_in his sleep_]. That pale forehead, that hair the colour of
burning.
_First Sailor. _ Some crazy dream he is in, and believe me it is no
crazier than the thought he has waking. He is not the first that has
had the wits drawn out from him through shadows and fantasies.
_Second Sailor. _ That is what ails him. I have been thinking it this
good while.
_First Sailor. _ Do you remember that galley we sank at the time of the
full moon?
_Second Sailor. _ I do. We were becalmed the same night, and he sat up
there playing that old harp of his until the moon had set.
_First Sailor. _ I was sleeping up there by the bulwark, and when I woke
in the sound of the harp a change came over my eyes, and I could see
very strange things. The dead were floating upon the sea yet, and it
seemed as if the life that went out of every one of them had turned to
the shape of a man-headed bird--grey they were, and they rose up of a
sudden and called out with voices like our own, and flew away singing
to the west. Words like this they were singing: 'Happiness beyond
measure, happiness where the sun dies. '
_Second Sailor. _ I understand well what they are doing. My mother
used to be talking of birds of the sort. They are sent by the lasting
watchers to lead men away from this world and its women to some place
of shining women that cast no shadow, having lived before the making of
the earth. But I have no mind to go following him to that place.
_First Sailor. _ Let us creep up to him and kill him in his sleep.
_Second Sailor. _ I would have made an end of him long ago, but that I
was in dread of his harp. It is said that when he plays upon it he has
power over all the listeners, with or without the body, seen or unseen,
and any man that listens grows to be as mad as himself.
_First Sailor. _ What way can he play it, being in his sleep?
_Second Sailor. _ But who would be our captain then to make out a course
from the Bear and the Pole-star, and to bring us back home?
_First Sailor. _ I have that thought out. We must have Aibric with us.
He knows the constellations as well as Forgael. He is a good hand with
the sword. Join with us; be our captain, Aibric. We are agreed to put
an end to Forgael, before he wakes. There is no man but will be glad of
it when it is done. Join with us, and you will have the captain's share
and profit.
_Aibric. _ Silence! for you have taken Forgael's pay.
_First Sailor. _ Little pay we have had this twelvemonth. We would never
have turned against him if he had brought us, as he promised, into seas
that would be thick with ships. That was the bargain. What is the use
of knocking about and fighting as we do unless we get the chance to
drink more wine and kiss more women than lasting peaceable men through
their long lifetime? You will be as good a leader as ever he was
himself, if you will but join us.
_Aibric. _ And do you think that I will join myself
To men like you, and murder him who has been
My master from my earliest childhood up?
No! nor to a world of men like you
When Forgael's in the other scale. Come! come!
I'll answer to more purpose when you have drawn
That sword out of its scabbard.
_First Sailor. _ You have awaked him. We had best go, for we have missed
this chance.
_Forgael. _ Have the birds passed us? I could hear your voice.
But there were others.
_Aibric. _ I have seen nothing pass.
_Forgael. _ You are certain of it? I never wake from sleep
But that I am afraid they may have passed;
For they're my only pilots. I have not seen them
For many days, and yet there must be many
Dying at every moment in the world.
_Aibric. _ They have all but driven you crazy, and already
The sailors have been plotting for your death,
And all the birds have cried into your ears
Has lured you on to death.
_Forgael. _ No; but they promised--
_Aibric. _ I know their promises. You have told me all.
They are to bring you to unheard-of passion,
To some strange love the world knows nothing of,
Some ever-living woman as you think,
One that can cast no shadow, being unearthly.
But that's all folly. Turn the ship about,
Sail home again, be some fair woman's friend;
Be satisfied to live like other men,
And drive impossible dreams away. 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.
