You are welcome to
whatever
shelter we have.
Yeats
Tell them, Fool, that when the
life and the mind are broken the truth comes through them like peas
through a broken peascod. Pray, Fool, that they may be given a sign and
carry their souls alive out of the dying world. Your prayers are better
than mine.
[_FOOL bows his head. WISE MAN'S head sinks on his arm
on the books. PUPILS are heard singing as before, but
now they come right on to the stage before they cease
their song. _
A YOUNG MAN.
Look at the Fool turned bell-ringer!
ANOTHER.
What have you called us in for, Teig? What are you going to tell us?
ANOTHER.
No wonder he has had dreams! See, he is fast asleep now. [_Goes over
and touches him. _] Oh, he is dead!
FOOL.
Do not stir! He asked for a sign that you might be saved. [_All are
silent for a moment. _] . . . Look what has come from his mouth . . . a
little winged thing . . . a little shining thing. . . . It is gone to the
door. [_The ANGEL appears in the doorway, stretches out her hands and
closes them again. _] The Angel has taken it in her hands. . . . She will
open her hands in the Garden of Paradise. [_They all kneel. _
CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN
_PERSONS IN THE PLAY_
PETER GILLANE
MICHAEL GILLANE, _his Son, going to be married_
PATRICK GILLANE, _a lad of twelve, Michael's Brother_
BRIDGET GILLANE, _Peter's Wife_
DELIA CAHEL, _engaged to Michael_
THE POOR OLD WOMAN
Neighbours
CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN
_Interior of a cottage close to Killala, in 1798.
BRIDGET is standing at a table undoing a parcel. PETER
is sitting at one side of the fire, PATRICK at the
other. _
PETER.
What is that sound I hear?
PATRICK.
I don't hear anything. [_He listens. _] I hear it now. It's like
cheering. [_He goes to the window and looks out. _] I wonder what they
are cheering about. I don't see anybody.
PETER.
It might be a hurling.
PATRICK.
There's no hurling to-day. It must be down in the town the cheering is.
BRIDGET.
I suppose the boys must be having some sport of their own. Come over
here, Peter, and look at Michael's wedding-clothes.
PETER [_shifts his chair to table_].
Those are grand clothes, indeed.
BRIDGET.
You hadn't clothes like that when you married me, and no coat to put on
of a Sunday more than any other day.
PETER.
That is true, indeed. We never thought a son of our own would be
wearing a suit of that sort for his wedding, or have so good a place to
bring a wife to.
PATRICK [_who is still at the window_].
There's an old woman coming down the road. I don't know is it here she
is coming?
BRIDGET.
It will be a neighbour coming to hear about Michael's wedding. Can you
see who it is?
PATRICK.
I think it is a stranger, but she's not coming to the house. She's
turned into the gap that goes down where Murteen and his sons are
shearing sheep. [_He turns towards BRIDGET. _] Do you remember what
Winny of the Cross Roads was saying the other night about the strange
woman that goes through the country whatever time there's war or
trouble coming?
BRIDGET.
Don't be bothering us about Winny's talk, but go and open the door for
your brother. I hear him coming up the path.
PETER.
I hope he has brought Delia's fortune with him safe, for fear her
people might go back on the bargain and I after making it. Trouble
enough I had making it.
[_PATRICK opens the door and MICHAEL comes in. _
BRIDGET.
What kept you, Michael? We were looking out for you this long time.
MICHAEL.
I went round by the priest's house to bid him be ready to marry us
to-morrow.
BRIDGET.
Did he say anything?
MICHAEL.
He said it was a very nice match, and that he was never better pleased
to marry any two in his parish than myself and Delia Cahel.
PETER.
Have you got the fortune, Michael?
MICHAEL.
Here it is.
[_MICHAEL puts bag on table and goes over and leans
against chimney-jamb. BRIDGET, who has been all this
time examining the clothes, pulling the seams and
trying the lining of the pockets, etc. , puts the
clothes on the dresser. _
PETER.
[_Getting up and taking the bag in his hand and turning
out the money. _]
Yes, I made the bargain well for you, Michael. Old John Cahel would
sooner have kept a share of this a while longer. 'Let me keep the half
of it until the first boy is born,' says he. 'You will not,' says I.
'Whether there is or is not a boy, the whole hundred pounds must be in
Michael's hands before he brings your daughter to the house. ' The wife
spoke to him then, and he gave in at the end.
BRIDGET.
You seem well pleased to be handling the money, Peter.
PETER.
Indeed, I wish I had had the luck to get a hundred pounds, or twenty
pounds itself, with the wife I married.
BRIDGET.
Well, if I didn't bring much I didn't get much. What had you the day I
married you but a flock of hens and you feeding them, and a few lambs
and you driving them to the market at Ballina. [_She is vexed and bangs
a jug on the dresser. _] If I brought no fortune I worked it out in my
bones, laying down the baby, Michael that is standing there now, on a
stook of straw, while I dug the potatoes, and never asking big dresses
or anything but to be working.
PETER.
That is true, indeed. [_He pats her arm. _
BRIDGET.
Leave me alone now till I ready the house for the woman that is to come
into it.
PETER.
You are the best woman in Ireland, but money is good, too. [_He begins
handling the money again and sits down. _] I never thought to see so
much money within my four walls. We can do great things now we have
it. We can take the ten acres of land we have a chance of since Jamsie
Dempsey died, and stock it. We will go to the fair of Ballina to buy
the stock. Did Delia ask any of the money for her own use, Michael?
MICHAEL.
She did not, indeed. She did not seem to take much notice of it, or to
look at it at all.
BRIDGET.
That's no wonder. Why would she look at it when she had yourself to
look at, a fine, strong young man? it is proud she must be to get you;
a good steady boy that will make use of the money, and not be running
through it or spending it on drink like another.
PETER.
It's likely Michael himself was not thinking much of the fortune
either, but of what sort the girl was to look at.
MICHAEL [_coming over towards the table_].
Well, you would like a nice comely girl to be beside you, and to go
walking with you. The fortune only lasts for a while, but the woman
will be there always.
PATRICK [_turning round from the window_].
They are cheering again down in the town. Maybe they are landing horses
from Enniscrone. They do be cheering when the horses take the water
well.
MICHAEL.
There are no horses in it. Where would they be going and no fair at
hand? Go down to the town, Patrick, and see what is going on.
PATRICK.
[_Opens the door to go out, but stops for a moment on
the threshold. _]
Will Delia remember, do you think, to bring the greyhound pup she
promised me when she would be coming to the house?
MICHAEL.
She will surely.
[_PATRICK goes out, leaving the door open. _
PETER.
It will be Patrick's turn next to be looking for a fortune, but he
won't find it so easy to get it and he with no place of his own.
BRIDGET.
I do be thinking sometimes, now things are going so well with us, and
the Cahels such a good back to us in the district, and Delia's own
uncle a priest, we might be put in the way of making Patrick a priest
some day, and he so good at his books.
PETER.
Time enough, time enough, you have always your head full of plans,
Bridget.
BRIDGET.
We will be well able to give him learning, and not to send him tramping
the country like a poor scholar that lives on charity.
MICHAEL.
They're not done cheering yet.
[_He goes over to the door and stands there for a
moment, putting up his hand to shade his eyes. _
BRIDGET.
Do you see anything?
MICHAEL.
I see an old woman coming up the path.
BRIDGET.
Who is it, I wonder? It must be the strange woman Patrick saw a while
ago.
MICHAEL.
I don't think it's one of the neighbours anyway, but she has her cloak
over her face.
BRIDGET.
It might be some poor woman heard we were making ready for the wedding
and came to look for her share.
PETER.
I may as well put the money out of sight. There is no use leaving it
out for every stranger to look at.
[_He goes over to a large box in the corner, opens it
and puts the bag in and fumbles at the lock. _
MICHAEL.
There she is, father! [_An _Old Woman_ passes the window slowly, she
looks at MICHAEL as she passes. _] I'd sooner a stranger not to come to
the house the night before my wedding.
BRIDGET.
Open the door, Michael; don't keep the poor woman waiting.
[_The OLD WOMAN comes in. MICHAEL stands aside to make
way for her. _
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.
life and the mind are broken the truth comes through them like peas
through a broken peascod. Pray, Fool, that they may be given a sign and
carry their souls alive out of the dying world. Your prayers are better
than mine.
[_FOOL bows his head. WISE MAN'S head sinks on his arm
on the books. PUPILS are heard singing as before, but
now they come right on to the stage before they cease
their song. _
A YOUNG MAN.
Look at the Fool turned bell-ringer!
ANOTHER.
What have you called us in for, Teig? What are you going to tell us?
ANOTHER.
No wonder he has had dreams! See, he is fast asleep now. [_Goes over
and touches him. _] Oh, he is dead!
FOOL.
Do not stir! He asked for a sign that you might be saved. [_All are
silent for a moment. _] . . . Look what has come from his mouth . . . a
little winged thing . . . a little shining thing. . . . It is gone to the
door. [_The ANGEL appears in the doorway, stretches out her hands and
closes them again. _] The Angel has taken it in her hands. . . . She will
open her hands in the Garden of Paradise. [_They all kneel. _
CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN
_PERSONS IN THE PLAY_
PETER GILLANE
MICHAEL GILLANE, _his Son, going to be married_
PATRICK GILLANE, _a lad of twelve, Michael's Brother_
BRIDGET GILLANE, _Peter's Wife_
DELIA CAHEL, _engaged to Michael_
THE POOR OLD WOMAN
Neighbours
CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN
_Interior of a cottage close to Killala, in 1798.
BRIDGET is standing at a table undoing a parcel. PETER
is sitting at one side of the fire, PATRICK at the
other. _
PETER.
What is that sound I hear?
PATRICK.
I don't hear anything. [_He listens. _] I hear it now. It's like
cheering. [_He goes to the window and looks out. _] I wonder what they
are cheering about. I don't see anybody.
PETER.
It might be a hurling.
PATRICK.
There's no hurling to-day. It must be down in the town the cheering is.
BRIDGET.
I suppose the boys must be having some sport of their own. Come over
here, Peter, and look at Michael's wedding-clothes.
PETER [_shifts his chair to table_].
Those are grand clothes, indeed.
BRIDGET.
You hadn't clothes like that when you married me, and no coat to put on
of a Sunday more than any other day.
PETER.
That is true, indeed. We never thought a son of our own would be
wearing a suit of that sort for his wedding, or have so good a place to
bring a wife to.
PATRICK [_who is still at the window_].
There's an old woman coming down the road. I don't know is it here she
is coming?
BRIDGET.
It will be a neighbour coming to hear about Michael's wedding. Can you
see who it is?
PATRICK.
I think it is a stranger, but she's not coming to the house. She's
turned into the gap that goes down where Murteen and his sons are
shearing sheep. [_He turns towards BRIDGET. _] Do you remember what
Winny of the Cross Roads was saying the other night about the strange
woman that goes through the country whatever time there's war or
trouble coming?
BRIDGET.
Don't be bothering us about Winny's talk, but go and open the door for
your brother. I hear him coming up the path.
PETER.
I hope he has brought Delia's fortune with him safe, for fear her
people might go back on the bargain and I after making it. Trouble
enough I had making it.
[_PATRICK opens the door and MICHAEL comes in. _
BRIDGET.
What kept you, Michael? We were looking out for you this long time.
MICHAEL.
I went round by the priest's house to bid him be ready to marry us
to-morrow.
BRIDGET.
Did he say anything?
MICHAEL.
He said it was a very nice match, and that he was never better pleased
to marry any two in his parish than myself and Delia Cahel.
PETER.
Have you got the fortune, Michael?
MICHAEL.
Here it is.
[_MICHAEL puts bag on table and goes over and leans
against chimney-jamb. BRIDGET, who has been all this
time examining the clothes, pulling the seams and
trying the lining of the pockets, etc. , puts the
clothes on the dresser. _
PETER.
[_Getting up and taking the bag in his hand and turning
out the money. _]
Yes, I made the bargain well for you, Michael. Old John Cahel would
sooner have kept a share of this a while longer. 'Let me keep the half
of it until the first boy is born,' says he. 'You will not,' says I.
'Whether there is or is not a boy, the whole hundred pounds must be in
Michael's hands before he brings your daughter to the house. ' The wife
spoke to him then, and he gave in at the end.
BRIDGET.
You seem well pleased to be handling the money, Peter.
PETER.
Indeed, I wish I had had the luck to get a hundred pounds, or twenty
pounds itself, with the wife I married.
BRIDGET.
Well, if I didn't bring much I didn't get much. What had you the day I
married you but a flock of hens and you feeding them, and a few lambs
and you driving them to the market at Ballina. [_She is vexed and bangs
a jug on the dresser. _] If I brought no fortune I worked it out in my
bones, laying down the baby, Michael that is standing there now, on a
stook of straw, while I dug the potatoes, and never asking big dresses
or anything but to be working.
PETER.
That is true, indeed. [_He pats her arm. _
BRIDGET.
Leave me alone now till I ready the house for the woman that is to come
into it.
PETER.
You are the best woman in Ireland, but money is good, too. [_He begins
handling the money again and sits down. _] I never thought to see so
much money within my four walls. We can do great things now we have
it. We can take the ten acres of land we have a chance of since Jamsie
Dempsey died, and stock it. We will go to the fair of Ballina to buy
the stock. Did Delia ask any of the money for her own use, Michael?
MICHAEL.
She did not, indeed. She did not seem to take much notice of it, or to
look at it at all.
BRIDGET.
That's no wonder. Why would she look at it when she had yourself to
look at, a fine, strong young man? it is proud she must be to get you;
a good steady boy that will make use of the money, and not be running
through it or spending it on drink like another.
PETER.
It's likely Michael himself was not thinking much of the fortune
either, but of what sort the girl was to look at.
MICHAEL [_coming over towards the table_].
Well, you would like a nice comely girl to be beside you, and to go
walking with you. The fortune only lasts for a while, but the woman
will be there always.
PATRICK [_turning round from the window_].
They are cheering again down in the town. Maybe they are landing horses
from Enniscrone. They do be cheering when the horses take the water
well.
MICHAEL.
There are no horses in it. Where would they be going and no fair at
hand? Go down to the town, Patrick, and see what is going on.
PATRICK.
[_Opens the door to go out, but stops for a moment on
the threshold. _]
Will Delia remember, do you think, to bring the greyhound pup she
promised me when she would be coming to the house?
MICHAEL.
She will surely.
[_PATRICK goes out, leaving the door open. _
PETER.
It will be Patrick's turn next to be looking for a fortune, but he
won't find it so easy to get it and he with no place of his own.
BRIDGET.
I do be thinking sometimes, now things are going so well with us, and
the Cahels such a good back to us in the district, and Delia's own
uncle a priest, we might be put in the way of making Patrick a priest
some day, and he so good at his books.
PETER.
Time enough, time enough, you have always your head full of plans,
Bridget.
BRIDGET.
We will be well able to give him learning, and not to send him tramping
the country like a poor scholar that lives on charity.
MICHAEL.
They're not done cheering yet.
[_He goes over to the door and stands there for a
moment, putting up his hand to shade his eyes. _
BRIDGET.
Do you see anything?
MICHAEL.
I see an old woman coming up the path.
BRIDGET.
Who is it, I wonder? It must be the strange woman Patrick saw a while
ago.
MICHAEL.
I don't think it's one of the neighbours anyway, but she has her cloak
over her face.
BRIDGET.
It might be some poor woman heard we were making ready for the wedding
and came to look for her share.
PETER.
I may as well put the money out of sight. There is no use leaving it
out for every stranger to look at.
[_He goes over to a large box in the corner, opens it
and puts the bag in and fumbles at the lock. _
MICHAEL.
There she is, father! [_An _Old Woman_ passes the window slowly, she
looks at MICHAEL as she passes. _] I'd sooner a stranger not to come to
the house the night before my wedding.
BRIDGET.
Open the door, Michael; don't keep the poor woman waiting.
[_The OLD WOMAN comes in. MICHAEL stands aside to make
way for her. _
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.
