The Complete Works. William Butler Yeats

The Complete Works - William Butler Yeats


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me, sweetheart,

      The kiss of multitudes in times to come

      Had been the poorer.

      [Enter KING from palace, followed by the two PRINCESSES.

      KING.

       [To FEDELM.]

      Has he eaten yet?

      FEDELM.

      No, King, and will not till you have restored

      The right of the poets.

      KING.

       [Coming down and standing before SEANCHAN.]

      Seanchan, you have refused

      Everybody that I have sent, and now

      I come to you myself; and I have come

      To bid you put your pride as far away

      As I have put my pride. I had your love

      Not a great while ago, and now you have planned

      To put a voice by every cottage fire,

      And in the night when no one sees who cries,

      To cry against me till my throne has crumbled.

      And yet if I give way I must offend

      My courtiers and nobles till they, too,

      Strike at the crown. What would you have of me?

      SEANCHAN.

      When did the poets promise safety, King?

      KING.

      Seanchan, I bring you bread in my own hands,

      And bid you eat because of all these reasons,

      And for this further reason, that I love you.

      [Seanchan pushes bread away, with FEDELM’S hand.

      You have refused it, Seanchan?

      SEANCHAN.

      We have refused it.

      KING.

      I have been patient, though I am a king,

      And have the means to force you. But that’s ended,

      And I am but a king, and you a subject.

      Nobles and courtiers, bring the poets hither;

      [Enter COURT LADIES, MONK, SOLDIER, CHAMBERLAIN, and COURTIERS with PUPILS, who have halters round their necks.

      For you can have your way. I that was man,

      With a man’s heart, am now all king again,

      Remembering that the seed I come of, though

      A hundred kings have sown it and resown it,

      Has neither trembled nor shrunk backward yet

      Because of the hard business of a king.

      Speak to your master; beg your life of him;

      Show him the halter that is round your necks.

      If his heart’s set upon it, he may die;

      But you shall all die with him. [Goes up steps.

      Beg your lives!

      Begin, for you have little time to lose.

      Begin it, you that are the oldest pupil.

      OLDEST PUPIL.

      Die, Seanchan, and proclaim the right of the poets.

      KING.

      Silence! you are as crazy as your master.

      But that young boy, that seems the youngest of you,

      I’d have him speak. Kneel down before him, boy;

      Hold up your hands to him, that you may pluck

      That milky-coloured neck out of the noose.

      YOUNGEST PUPIL.

      Die, Seanchan, and proclaim the right of the poets.

      OLDEST PUPIL.

      Gather the halters up into your hands

      And drive us where you will, for in all things,

      But in our Art, we are obedient.

      [They hold the ends of the halter towards the KING. The KING comes slowly down steps.

      KING.

      Kneel down, kneel down; he has the greater power.

      There is no power but has its root in his—

      I understand it now. There is no power

      But his that can withhold the crown or give it,

      Or make it reverend in the eyes of men,

      And therefore I have laid it in his hands,

      And I will do his will.

      [He has put the crown into SEANCHAN’S hands.

      SEANCHAN.

       [Who has been assisted to rise by his pupils.]

      O crown! O crown!

      It is but right the hands that made the crown

      In the old time should give it where they please.

      [He places the crown on the KING’S head.

      O silver trumpets! Be you lifted up,

      And cry to the great race that is to come.

      Long-throated swans, amid the waves of Time,

      Sing loudly, for beyond the wall of the world

      It waits, and it may hear and come to us.

      [The PUPILS blow a trumpet blast.

       Table of Contents

      To William Fay

       BECAUSE OF THE BEAUTIFUL PHANTASY OF HIS

       PLAYING IN THE CHARACTER OF

       THE FOOL

       Table of Contents

       A Fool

       A Blind Man

       Cuchulain, King of Muirthemne

       Conchubar, High King of Ulad

       A Young Man, Son of Cuchulain

       Kings and Singing Women

       Table of Contents

      A great hall at Dundealgan, not ‘Cuchulain’s great ancient house’ but an assembly house nearer to the sea. A big door at the back, and through the door misty light as of sea mist. There are many chairs and one long bench. One of these chairs, which is towards the front of the stage, is bigger than the others. Somewhere at the back there is a table with flagons of ale upon it and drinking-horns. There is a small door at one side of the hall. A FOOL and BLIND MAN, both ragged, come in through the door at the back. The BLIND MAN leans upon a staff.

      FOOL.

      What a clever man you are though you are blind! There’s nobody with two eyes in his head that is as clever as you are.


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