The Complete Works. William Butler Yeats
am sure it is her son. I was in Aoife’s country for a long time.
FOOL.
That was before you were blinded for putting a curse upon the wind.
BLIND MAN.
There was a boy in her house that had her own red colour on him and everybody said he was to be brought up to kill Cuchulain, that she hated Cuchulain. She used to put a helmet on a pillar-stone and call it Cuchulain and set him casting at it. There is a step outside—Cuchulain’s step.
[CUCHULAIN passes by in the mist outside the big door.
FOOL.
Where is Cuchulain going?
BLIND MAN.
He is going to meet Conchubar that has bidden him to take the oath.
FOOL.
Ah, an oath, Blind Man. How can I remember so many things at once? Who is going to take an oath?
BLIND MAN.
Cuchulain is going to take an oath to Conchubar who is High King.
FOOL.
What a mix-up you make of everything, Blind Man. You were telling me one story, and now you are telling me another story. … How can I get the hang of it at the end if you mix everything at the beginning? Wait till I settle it out. There now, there’s Cuchulain [he points to one foot], and there is the young man [he points to the other foot] that is coming to kill him, and Cuchulain doesn’t know. But where’s Conchubar? [Takes bag from side.] That’s Conchubar with all his riches—Cuchulain, young man, Conchubar—And where’s Aoife? [Throws up cap.] There is Aoife, high up on the mountains in high hungry Scotland. Maybe it is not true after all. Maybe it was your own making up. It’s many a time you cheated me before with your lies. Come to the cooking-pot, my stomach is pinched and rusty. Would you have it to be creaking like a gate?
BLIND MAN.
I tell you it’s true. And more than that is true. If you listen to what I say, you’ll forget your stomach.
FOOL.
I won’t.
BLIND MAN.
Listen. I know who the young man’s father is, but I won’t say. I would be afraid to say. Ah, Fool, you would forget everything if you could know who the young man’s father is.
FOOL.
Who is it? Tell me now quick, or I’ll shake you. Come, out with it, or I’ll shake you.
[A murmur of voices in the distance.
BLIND MAN.
Wait, wait. There’s somebody coming. … It is Cuchulain is coming. He’s coming back with the High King. Go and ask Cuchulain. He’ll tell you. It’s little you’ll care about the cooking-pot when you have asked Cuchulain that. …
[BLIND MAN goes out by side door.
FOOL.
I’ll ask him. Cuchulain will know. He was in Aoife’s country. [Goes up stage.] I’ll ask him. [Turns and goes down stage.] But, no. I won’t ask him, I would be afraid. [Going up again.] Yes, I will ask him. What harm in asking? The Blind Man said I was to ask him. [Going down.] No, no. I’ll not ask him. He might kill me. I have but killed hens and geese and pigs. He has killed kings. [Goes up again almost to big door.] Who says I’m afraid? I’m not afraid. I’m no coward. I’ll ask him. No, no, Cuchulain, I’m not going to ask you.
He has killed kings,
Kings and the sons of kings,
Dragons out of the water,
And witches out of the air,
Banachas and Bonachas and people of the woods.
[FOOL goes out by side door, the last words being heard outside. CUCHULAIN and CONCHUBAR enter through the big door at the back. While they are still outside, CUCHULAIN’S voice is heard raised in anger. He is a dark man, something over forty years of age. CONCHUBAR is much older and carries a long staff, elaborately carved, or with an elaborate gold handle.
CUCHULAIN.
Because I have killed men without your bidding
And have rewarded others at my own pleasure,
Because of half a score of trifling things
You’d lay this oath upon me, and now—and now
You add another pebble to the heap.
And I must be your man, well-nigh your bondsman,
Because a youngster out of Aoife’s country
Has found the shore ill-guarded.
CONCHUBAR.
He came to land
While you were somewhere out of sight and hearing,
Hunting or dancing with your wild companions.
CUCHULAIN.
He can be driven out. I’ll not be bound.
I’ll dance or hunt, or quarrel or make love,
Wherever and whenever I’ve a mind to.
If time had not put water in your blood,
You never would have thought it.
CONCHUBAR.
I would leave
A strong and settled country to my children.
CUCHULAIN.
And I must be obedient in all things;
Give up my will to yours; go where you please;
Come when you call; sit at the council-board
Among the unshapely bodies of old men.
I whose mere name has kept this country safe,
I that in early days have driven out
Maeve of Cruachan and the northern pirates,
The hundred kings of Sorcha, and the kings
Out of the Garden in the East of the World.
Must I, that held you on the throne when all
Had pulled you from it, swear obedience
As if I were some cattle-raising king?
Are my shins speckled with the heat of the fire,
Or have my hands no skill but to make figures
Upon the ashes with a stick? Am I
So slack and idle that I need a whip
Before I serve you?
CONCHUBAR.
No, no whip, Cuchulain,
But every day my children come and say:
‘This man is growing harder to endure.
How can we be at safety with this man
That nobody can buy or bid or bind?
We shall be at his mercy when you are gone;
He burns the earth as if he were a fire,
And time can never touch him.’
CUCHULAIN.
And so the tale
Grows finer yet; and I am to obey
Whatever child you set upon the throne,
As if it were yourself!
CONCHUBAR.
Most certainly.
I am High King, my son shall be High