No More Learning

[_They rush out. ALEEL crawls into the middle of the
room. The twilight has fallen and gradually darkens
as the scene goes on. There is a distant muttering of
thunder and a sound of rising storm. _

ALEEL.

The brazen door stands wide, and Balor comes
Borne in his heavy car, and demons have lifted
The age-weary eyelids from the eyes that of old
Turned gods to stone; Barach the traitor comes;
And the lascivious race, Cailitin,
That cast a druid weakness and decay
Over Sualtam's and old Dectora's child;
And that great king Hell first took hold upon
When he killed Naisi and broke Deirdre's heart;
And all their heads are twisted to one side,
For when they lived they warred on beauty and peace
With obstinate, crafty, sidelong bitterness.

[_OONA enters, but remains standing by the door. ALEEL
half rises, leaning upon one arm and one knee. _]

Crouch down, old heron, out of the blind storm.

OONA.

Where is the Countess Cathleen? All this day
She has been pale and weakly: when her hand
Touched mine over the spindle her hand trembled,
And now I do not know where she has gone.

ALEEL.

Cathleen has chosen other friends than us,
And they are rising through the hollow world.

[_He points downwards. _

First, Orchil, her pale beautiful head alive,
Her body shadowy as vapour drifting
Under the dawn, for she who awoke desire
Has but a heart of blood when others die;
About her is a vapoury multitude
Of women, alluring devils with soft laughter;
Behind her a host heat of the blood made sin,
But all the little pink-white nails have grown
To be great talons.

[_He seizes OONA and drags her into the middle of the
room and points downwards with vehement gestures. The
wind roars. _]

They begin a song
And there is still some music on their tongues.

OONA.

[_Casting herself face downwards on the floor. _]

O maker of all, protect her from the demons,
And if a soul must needs be lost, take mine.

[_ALEEL kneels beside her, but does not seem to hear
her words; he is gazing down as if through the earth.
The peasants return. They carry the COUNTESS CATHLEEN
and lay her upon the ground before OONA and ALEEL. She
lies there as if dead. _]

O that so many pitchers of rough clay
Should prosper and the porcelain break in two!

[_She kisses the hands of the COUNTESS CATHLEEN. _

A PEASANT.

We were under the tree where the path turns
When she grew pale as death and fainted away,
And while we bore her hither, cloudy gusts
Blackened the world and shook us on our feet:
Draw the great bolt, for no man has beheld
So black, bitter, blinding, and sudden a storm.

[_One who is near the door draws the bolt. _

OONA.

Hush, hush, she has awakened from her swoon.

CATHLEEN.

O hold me, and hold me tightly, for the storm
Is dragging me away!

[_OONA takes her in her arms. A woman begins to wail. _

A PEASANT.

Hush.

ANOTHER PEASANT.

Hush.

A PEASANT WOMAN.

Hush.

ANOTHER PEASANT WOMAN.

Hush.

CATHLEEN [_half rising_].

Lay all the bags of money at my feet.

[_They lay the bags at her feet. _

And send and bring old Neal when I am dead,
And bid him hear each man and judge and give:
He doctors you with herbs, and can best say
Who has the less and who the greater need.

A PEASANT WOMAN.

[_At the back of the crowd. _]

And will he give enough out of the bags
To keep my children till the dearth go by?

ANOTHER PEASANT WOMAN.

O Queen of Heaven and all you blessed Saints,
Let us and ours be lost, so she be shriven.

CATHLEEN.

Bend down your faces, Oona and Aleel:
I gaze upon them as the swallow gazes
Upon the nest under the eave, before
He wander the loud waters: do not weep
Too great a while, for there is many a candle
On the high altar though one fall. Aleel,
Who sang about the people of the raths,
That know not the hard burden of the world,
Having but breath in their kind bodies, farewell!
And farewell, Oona, who spun flax with me
Soft as their sleep when every dance is done:
The storm is in my hair and I must go.

[_She dies. _

OONA.

Bring me the looking-glass.

[_A woman brings it to her out of the inner room. OONA holds the glass
over the lips of the COUNTESS CATHLEEN. All is silent for a moment; and
then she speaks in a half scream. _]

O, she is dead!

A PEASANT WOMAN.

She was the great white lily of the world.

ANOTHER PEASANT WOMAN.

She was more beautiful than the pale stars.

AN OLD PEASANT WOMAN.

The little plant I loved is broken in two.

[_ALEEL takes the looking-glass from OONA and flings it
upon the floor so that it is broken in many pieces. _

ALEEL.

I shatter you in fragments, for the face
That brimmed you up with beauty is no more:
And die, dull heart, for she whose mournful words
Made you a living spirit has passed away
And left you but a ball of passionate dust;
And you, proud earth and plumy sea, fade out,
For you may hear no more her faltering feet,
But are left lonely amid the clamorous war
Of angels upon devils.

[_He stands up; almost everyone is kneeling, but it has grown so dark
that only confused forms can be seen. _]

And I who weep
Call curses on you, Time and Fate and Change,
And have no excellent hope but the great hour
When you shall plunge headlong through bottomless space.

[_A flash of lightning followed immediately by thunder. _

A PEASANT WOMAN.

Pull him upon his knees before his curses
Have plucked thunder and lightning on our heads.

ALEEL.

Angels and devils clash in the middle air,
And brazen swords clang upon brazen helms:

[_A flash of lightning followed immediately by thunder. _]

Yonder a bright spear, cast out of a sling,
Has torn through Balor's eye, and the dark clans
Fly screaming as they fled Moytura of old.

[_Everything is lost in darkness. _

AN OLD MAN.

The Almighty, wrath at our great weakness and sin,
Has blotted out the world and we must die.

[_The darkness is broken by a visionary light. The
peasants seem to be kneeling upon the rocky slope of a
mountain, and vapour full of storm and ever-changing
light is sweeping above them and behind them. Half in
the light, half in the shadow, stand armed Angels.
Their armour is old and worn, and their drawn swords
dim and dinted. They stand as if upon the air in
formation of battle and look downward with stern faces.
The peasants cast themselves on the ground. _

ALEEL.

Look no more on the half-closed gates of Hell,
But speak to me, whose mind is smitten of God,
That it may be no more with mortal things;
And tell of her who lies here.
[_He seizes one of the Angels. _] Till you speak
You shall not drift into eternity.

THE ANGEL.

The light beats down: the gates of pearl are wide,
And she is passing to the floor of peace,
And Mary of the seven times wounded heart
Has kissed her lips, and the long blessed hair
Has fallen on her face; the Light of Lights
Looks always on the motive, not the deed,
The Shadow of Shadows on the deed alone.

[_ALEEL releases the Angel and kneels. _

OONA.

Tell them who walk upon the floor of peace
That I would die and go to her I love;
The years like great black oxen tread the world,
And God the herdsman goads them on behind,
And I am broken by their passing feet.

[_A sound of far-off horns seems to come from the heart
of the light. The vision melts away, and the forms of
the kneeling peasants appear faintly in the darkness. _]




THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE




'O Rose, thou art sick. '--_William Blake. _




TO FLORENCE FARR




_PERSONS IN THE PLAY_


MAURTEEN BRUIN
SHAWN BRUIN
FATHER HART
BRIDGET BRUIN
MAIRE BRUIN
A FAERY CHILD

_The scene is laid in the Barony of Kilmacowen, in the County of Sligo,
and the characters are supposed to speak in Gaelic. They wear the
costume of a century ago. _




THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE


_The kitchen of MAURTEEN BRUIN'S house. An open grate
with a turf fire is at the left side of the room, with
a table in front of it. There is a door leading to the
open air at the back, and another door a little to its
left, leading into an inner room. There is a window, a
settle, and a large dresser on the right side of the
room, and a great bowl of primroses on the sill of
the window. MAURTEEN BRUIN, FATHER HART, and BRIDGET
BRUIN are sitting at the table. SHAWN BRUIN is setting
the table for supper. MAIRE BRUIN sits on the settle
reading a yellow manuscript. _

BRIDGET BRUIN.

Because I bade her go and feed the calves,
She took that old book down out of the thatch
And has been doubled over it all day.
We would be deafened by her groans and moans
Had she to work as some do, Father Hart,
Get up at dawn like me, and mend and scour;
Or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you,
The pyx and blessed bread under your arm.

SHAWN BRUIN.

You are too cross.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

The young side with the young.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

She quarrels with my wife a bit at times,
And is too deep just now in the old book,
But do not blame her greatly; she will grow
As quiet as a puff-ball in a tree
When but the moons of marriage dawn and die
For half a score of times.

FATHER HART.

Their hearts are wild
As be the hearts of birds, till children come.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

She would not mind the griddle, milk the cow,
Or even lay the knives and spread the cloth.

FATHER HART.

I never saw her read a book before;
What may it be?

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

I do not rightly know;
It has been in the thatch for fifty years.
My father told me my grandfather wrote it,
Killed a red heifer and bound it with the hide.
But draw your chair this way--supper is spread.
And little good he got out of the book,
Because it filled his house with roaming bards,
And roaming ballad-makers and the like,
And wasted all his goods. --Here is the wine:
The griddle bread's beside you, Father Hart.
Colleen, what have you got there in the book
That you must leave the bread to cool? Had I,
Or had my father, read or written books
There were no stocking full of silver and gold
To come, when I am dead, to Shawn and you.

FATHER HART.

You should not fill your head with foolish dreams.
What are you reading?

MAIRE BRUIN.

How a Princess Edain,
A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard
A voice singing on a May Eve like this,
And followed, half awake and half asleep,
Until she came into the land of faery,
Where nobody gets old and godly and grave,
Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise,
Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue;
And she is still there, busied with a dance,
Deep in the dewy shadow of a wood,
Or where stars walk upon a mountain-top.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Persuade the colleen to put by the book:
My grandfather would mutter just such things,
And he was no judge of a dog or horse,
And any idle boy could blarney him:
Just speak your mind.

FATHER HART.

Put it away, my colleen.
God spreads the heavens above us like great wings,
And gives a little round of deeds and days,
And then come the wrecked angels and set snares,
And bait them with light hopes and heavy dreams,
Until the heart is puffed with pride and goes,
Half shuddering and half joyous, from God's peace:
And it was some wrecked angel, blind from tears,
Who flattered Edain's heart with merry words.
My colleen, I have seen some other girls
Restless and ill at ease, but years went by
And they grew like their neighbours and were glad
In minding children, working at the churn,
And gossiping of weddings and of wakes;
For life moves out of a red flare of dreams
Into a common light of common hours,
Until old age bring the red flare again.

SHAWN BRUIN.

Yet do not blame her greatly, Father Hart,
For she is dull while I am in the fields,
And mother's tongue were harder still to bear,
But for her fancies: this is May Eve too,
When the good people post about the world,
And surely one may think of them to-night.
Maire, have you the primroses to fling
Before the door to make a golden path
For them to bring good luck into the house?
Remember, they may steal new-married brides
After the fall of twilight on May Eve.

[_MAIRE BRUIN goes over to the window and takes flowers
from the bowl and strews them outside the door. _

FATHER HART.

You do well, daughter, because God permits
Great power to the good people on May Eve.

SHAWN BRUIN.

They can work all their will with primroses;
Change them to golden money, or little flames
To burn up those who do them any wrong.

MAIRE BRUIN [_in a dreamy voice_].

I had no sooner flung them by the door
Than the wind cried and hurried them away;
And then a child came running in the wind
And caught them in her hands and fondled them:
Her dress was green: her hair was of red gold;
Her face was pale as water before dawn.

FATHER HART.

Whose child can this be?

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

No one's child at all.
She often dreams that someone has gone by
When there was nothing but a puff of wind.

MAIRE BRUIN.

They will not bring good luck into the house,
For they have blown the primroses away;
Yet I am glad that I was courteous to them,
For are not they, likewise, children of God?

FATHER HART.

Colleen, they are the children of the Fiend,
And they have power until the end of Time,
When God shall fight with them a great pitched battle
And hack them into pieces.

MAIRE BRUIN.

He will smile,
Father, perhaps, and open His great door,
And call the pretty and kind into His house.

FATHER HART.

Did but the lawless angels see that door,
They would fall, slain by everlasting peace;
And when such angels knock upon our doors
Who goes with them must drive through the same storm.

[_A knock at the door. MAIRE BRUIN opens it and then
goes to the dresser and fills a porringer with milk and
hands it through the door and takes it back empty and
closes the door. _

MAIRE BRUIN.

A little queer old woman cloaked in green,
Who came to beg a porringer of milk.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

The good people go asking milk and fire
Upon May Eve. --Woe on the house that gives,
For they have power upon it for a year.
I knew you would bring evil on the house.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Who was she?

MAIRE BRUIN.

Both the tongue and face were strange.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Some strangers came last week to Clover Hill;
She must be one of them.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

I am afraid.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

The priest will keep all harm out of the house.

FATHER HART.

The cross will keep all harm out of the house
While it hangs there.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Come, sit beside me, colleen,
And put away your dreams of discontent,
For I would have you light up my last days
Like a bright torch of pine, and when I die
I will make you the wealthiest hereabout:
For hid away where nobody can find
I have a stocking full of silver and gold.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

You are the fool of every pretty face,
And I must pinch and pare that my son's wife
May have all kinds of ribbons for her head.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Do not be cross; she is a right good girl!
The butter is by your elbow, Father Hart.
My colleen, have not Fate and Time and Change
Done well for me and for old Bridget there?
We have a hundred acres of good land,
And sit beside each other at the fire,
The wise priest of our parish to our right,
And you and our dear son to left of us.
To sit beside the board and drink good wine
And watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire
And feel content and wisdom in your heart,
This is the best of life; when we are young
We long to tread a way none trod before,
But find the excellent old way through love
And through the care of children to the hour
For bidding Fate and Time and Change good-bye.

[_A knock at the door. MAIRE BRUIN opens it and then
takes a sod of turf out of the hearth in the tongs and
passes it through the door and closes the door and
remains standing by it. _

MAIRE BRUIN.

A little queer old man in a green coat,
Who asked a burning sod to light his pipe.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

You have now given milk and fire, and brought,
For all you know, evil upon the house.
Before you married you were idle and fine,
And went about with ribbons on your head;
And now you are a good-for-nothing wife.

SHAWN BRUIN.

Be quiet, mother!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

You are much too cross!

MAIRE BRUIN.

What do I care if I have given this house,
Where I must hear all day a bitter tongue,
Into the power of faeries!

BRIDGET BRUIN.

You know well
How calling the good people by that name
Or talking of them over-much at all
May bring all kinds of evil on the house.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Come, faeries, take me out of this dull house!
Let me have all the freedom I have lost;
Work when I will and idle when I will!
Faeries, come, take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame!

FATHER HART.

You cannot know the meaning of your words.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Father, I am right weary of four tongues:
A tongue that is too crafty and too wise,
A tongue that is too godly and too grave,
A tongue that is more bitter than the tide,
And a kind tongue too full of drowsy love,
Of drowsy love and my captivity.

[_SHAWN BRUIN comes over to her and leads her to the
settle. _

SHAWN BRUIN.

Do not blame me; I often lie awake
Thinking that all things trouble your bright head--
How beautiful it is--such broad pale brows
Under a cloudy blossoming of hair!
Sit down beside me here--these are too old,
And have forgotten they were ever young.

MAIRE BRUIN.

O, you are the great door-post of this house,
And I, the red nasturtium, climbing up.

[_She takes SHAWN'S hand, but looks shyly at the priest
and lets it go. _

FATHER HART.

Good daughter, take his hand--by love alone
God binds us to Himself and to the hearth
And shuts us from the waste beyond His peace,
From maddening freedom and bewildering light.

SHAWN BRUIN.

Would that the world were mine to give it you
With every quiet hearth and barren waste,
The maddening freedom of its woods and tides,
And the bewildering light upon its hills.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Then I would take and break it in my hands
To see you smile watching it crumble away.

SHAWN BRUIN.

Then I would mould a world of fire and dew
With no one bitter, grave, or over-wise,
And nothing marred or old to do you wrong;
And crowd the enraptured quiet of the sky
With candles burning to your lonely face.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Your looks are all the candles that I need.

SHAWN BRUIN.

Once a fly dancing in a beam of the sun,
Or the light wind blowing out of the dawn,
Could fill your heart with dreams none other knew,
But now the indissoluble sacrament
Has mixed your heart that was most proud and cold
With my warm heart for ever; and sun and moon
Must fade and heaven be rolled up like a scroll;
But your white spirit still walk by my spirit.

[_A VOICE sings in the distance. _

MAIRE BRUIN.

Did you hear something call? O, guard me close,
Because I have said wicked things to-night;
And seen a pale-faced child with red-gold hair,
And longed to dance upon the winds with her.

A VOICE [_close to the door_].

_The wind blows out of the gates of the day,
The wind blows over the lonely of heart,
And the lonely of heart is withered away,
While the faeries dance in a place apart,
Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,
Tossing their milk-white arms in the air;
For they hear the wind laugh, and murmur and sing
Of a land where even the old are fair,
And even the wise are merry of tongue;
But I heard a reed of Coolaney say,
'When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung,
The lonely of heart is withered away! '_

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

I am right happy, and would make all else
Be happy too. I hear a child outside,
And will go bring her in out of the cold.

[_He opens the door. A CHILD dressed in pale green and
with red-gold hair comes into the house. _

THE CHILD.

I tire of winds and waters and pale lights!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

You are most welcome. It is cold out there;
Who'd think to face such cold on a May Eve?

THE CHILD.

And when I tire of this warm little house
There is one here who must away, away,
To where the woods, the stars, and the white streams
Are holding a continual festival.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

O listen to her dreamy and strange talk.
Come to the fire.

THE CHILD.

I will sit upon your knee,
For I have run from where the winds are born,
And long to rest my feet a little while.

[_She sits upon his knee. _

BRIDGET BRUIN.

How pretty you are!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Your hair is wet with dew!

BRIDGET BRUIN.

I will warm your chilly feet.

[_She takes THE CHILD'S feet in her hands. _

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

You must have come
A long, long way, for I have never seen
Your pretty face, and must be tired and hungry;
Here is some bread and wine.

THE CHILD.

The wine is bitter.
Old mother, have you no sweet food for me?

BRIDGET BRUIN.

I have some honey!

[_She goes into the next room. _

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

You are a dear child;
The mother was quite cross before you came.

[_BRIDGET returns with the honey, and goes to the
dresser and fills a porringer with milk. _

BRIDGET BRUIN.

She is the child of gentle people; look
At her white hands and at her pretty dress.
I have brought you some new milk, but wait awhile,
And I will put it by the fire to warm,
For things well fitted for poor folk like us
Would never please a high-born child like you.

THE CHILD.

Old mother, my old mother, the green dawn
Brightens above while you blow up the fire;
And evening finds you spreading the white cloth.
The young may lie in bed and dream and hope,
But you work on because your heart is old.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

The young are idle.

THE CHILD.

Old father, you are wise,
And all the years have gathered in your heart
To whisper of the wonders that are gone.
The young must sigh through many a dream and hope,
But you are wise because your heart is old.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

O, who would think to find so young a child
Loving old age and wisdom?

[_BRIDGET gives her more bread and honey. _

THE CHILD.

No more, mother.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

What a small bite! The milk is ready now;
What a small sip!

THE CHILD.

Put on my shoes, old mother,
For I would like to dance now I have eaten.
The reeds are dancing by Coolaney lake,
And I would like to dance until the reeds
And the white waves have danced themselves to sleep.

[_BRIDGET having put on her shoes, she gets off the old
man's knees and is about to dance, but suddenly sees
the crucifix and shrieks and covers her eyes. _]

What is that ugly thing on the black cross?

FATHER HART.

You cannot know how naughty your words are!
That is our Blessed Lord!

THE CHILD.

Hide it away!

BRIDGET BRUIN.

I have begun to be afraid, again!

THE CHILD.

Hide it away!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

That would be wickedness!

BRIDGET BRUIN.

That would be sacrilege!

THE CHILD.

The tortured thing!
Hide it away!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

Her parents are to blame.

FATHER HART.

That is the image of the Son of God.

[_THE CHILD puts her arm round his neck and kisses him. _

THE CHILD.

Hide it away! Hide it away!

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

No! no!

FATHER HART.

Because you are so young and little a child
I will go take it down.

THE CHILD.

Hide it away,
And cover it out of sight and out of mind.

[_FATHER HART takes it down and carries it towards the
inner room. _

FATHER HART.

Since you have come into this barony,
I will instruct you in our blessed faith:
Being a clever child, you will soon learn.
[_To the others. _] We must be tender with all budding things.
Our Maker let no thought of Calvary
Trouble the morning stars in their first song.

[_Puts the crucifix in the inner room. _

THE CHILD.

Here is level ground for dancing. I will dance.
The wind is blowing on the waving reeds,
The wind is blowing on the heart of man.

[_She dances, swaying about like the reeds. _

MAIRE [_to SHAWN BRUIN_].

Just now when she came near I thought I heard
Other small steps beating upon the floor,
And a faint music blowing in the wind,
Invisible pipes giving her feet the time.

SHAWN BRUIN.

I heard no step but hers.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Look to the bolt!
Because the unholy powers are abroad.

MAURTEEN BRUIN [_to THE CHILD_].

Come over here, and if you promise me
Not to talk wickedly of holy things
I will give you something.

THE CHILD.

Bring it me, old father!

[_MAURTEEN BRUIN goes into the next room. _

FATHER HART.

I will have queen cakes when you come to me!

[_MAURTEEN BRUIN returns and lays a piece of money on
the table. THE CHILD makes a gesture of refusal. _

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

It will buy lots of toys; see how it glitters!

THE CHILD.

Come, tell me, do you love me?

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

I love you!

THE CHILD.

Ah, but you love this fireside!

FATHER HART.

I love you.

THE CHILD.

But you love Him above.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

She is blaspheming.

THE CHILD [_to MAIRE_].

And do you love me?

MAIRE BRUIN.

I--I do not know.

THE CHILD.

You love that great tall fellow over there:
Yet I could make you ride upon the winds,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame!

MAIRE BRUIN.

Queen of the Angels and kind Saints, defend us!
Some dreadful fate has fallen: a while ago
The wind cried out and took the primroses,
And she ran by me laughing in the wind,
And I gave milk and fire, and she came in
And made you hide the blessed crucifix.

FATHER HART.

You fear because of her wild, pretty prattle;
She knows no better.
[_To THE CHILD_] Child, how old are you?

THE CHILD.

When winter sleep is abroad my hair grows thin,
My feet unsteady. When the leaves awaken
My mother carries me in her golden arms.
I'll soon put on my womanhood and marry
The spirits of wood and water, but who can tell
When I was born for the first time? I think
I am much older than the eagle cock
That blinks and blinks on Ballygawley Hill,
And he is the oldest thing under the moon.

FATHER HART.

She is of the faery people.