The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 4 of 8. The Hour-glass. Cathleen ni Houlihan. The Golden Helmet. The Irish Dramatic Movement. Yeats William Butler
am blowing at the dandelion to find out what time it is.
You have heard everything! That is why you want to find out what hour it is! You are waiting to see them coming through the door to carry me away. [FOOL goes on blowing.] Out through the door with you! I will have no one here when they come. [He seizes the FOOL by the shoulders, and begins to force him out through the door, then suddenly changes his mind.] No, I have something to ask you. [He drags him back into the room.] Is there a Heaven? Is there a Hell? Is there a Purgatory?
So you ask me now. When you were asking your pupils, I said to myself, if he would ask Teig the Fool, Teig could tell him all about it, for Teig has learned all about it when he has been cutting the nets.
Tell me; tell me!
I said, Teig knows everything. Not even the cats or the hares that milk the cows have Teig’s wisdom. But Teig will not speak; he says nothing.
Tell me, tell me! For under the cover the grains are falling, and when they are all fallen I shall die; and my soul will be lost if I have not found somebody that believes! Speak, speak!
No, no, I won’t tell you what is in my mind, and I won’t tell you what is in my bag. You might steal away my thoughts. I met a bodach on the road yesterday, and he said, ‘Teig, tell me how many pennies are in your bag; I will wager three pennies that there are not twenty pennies in your bag; let me put in my hand and count them.’ But I pulled the strings tighter, like this; and when I go to sleep every night I hide the bag where no one knows.
No, no, I have not the courage. [He kneels.] Have pity upon me, Fool, and tell me!
Ah! Now, that is different. I am not afraid of you now. But I must come nearer to you; somebody in there might hear what the Angel said.
Oh, what did the Angel tell you?
Once I was alone on the hills, and an angel came by and he said, ‘Teig the Fool, do not forget the Three Fires; the Fire that punishes, the Fire that purifies, and the Fire wherein the soul rejoices for ever!’
He believes! I am saved! The sand has run out… [FOOL helps him to his chair.] I am going from the country of the seven wandering stars, and I am going to the country of the fixed stars! I understand it all now. One sinks in on God; we do not see the truth; God sees the truth in us. Ring the bell. They are coming. 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.
Look at the Fool turned bell-ringer!
What have you called us in for, Teig? What are you going to tell us?
No wonder he has had dreams! See, he is fast asleep now. [Goes over and touches him.] Oh, he is dead!
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.
What is that sound I hear?
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.
It might be a hurling.
There’s no hurling to-day. It must be down in the town the cheering is.
I suppose the boys must be having some sport of their own. Come over here, Peter, and look at Michael’s wedding-clothes.
Those are grand clothes, indeed.
You hadn’t clothes like that when you married me, and no coat to put on of a Sunday more than any other day.
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.
There’s an old woman coming down the road. I don’t know is it here she is coming?
It will be a neighbour coming to hear about Michael’s wedding. Can you see who it is?
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?
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.
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.
What kept you, Michael? We were looking out for you this long time.
I went round by the priest’s house to bid him be ready to marry us to-morrow.
Did he say anything?
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.
Have you got the fortune, 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.
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