Scene.—The house of Shemus Rua. There is an alcove at the back with curtains; in it a bed, and on the bed is the body of Mary with candles round it. The two Merchants while they speak put a large book upon a table, arrange money, and so on.
First Merchant
Thanks to that lie I told about her shipsAnd that about the herdsman lying sick,We shall be too much thronged with souls to-morrow.
Second Merchant
What has she in her coffers now but mice?
First Merchant
When the night fell and I had shaped myselfInto the image of the man-headed owl,I hurried to the cliffs of Donegal,And saw with all their canvas full of windAnd rushing through the parti-coloured seaThose ships that bring the woman grain and meal.They’re but three days from us.
Second Merchant
When the dew roseI hurried in like feathers to the east,And saw nine hundred oxen driven through MeathWith goads of iron, They’re but three days from us.
Peasants crowd in with Teig and Shemus.
Shemus
Come in, come in, you are welcome.That is my wife. She mocked at my great masters,And would not deal with them. Now there she is;She does not even know she was a fool,So great a fool she was.
Teig
She would not eatOne crumb of bread bought with our master’s money,But lived on nettles, dock, and dandelion.
Shemus
There’s nobody could put into her head
That Death is the worst thing can happen us.Though that sounds simple, for her tongue grew rankWith all the lies that she had heard in chapel.Draw to the curtain.
You’ll not play the foolWhile these good gentlemen are there to save you.
Second Merchant
Since the drought came they drift about in a throng,Like autumn leaves blown by the dreary winds.Come, deal—come, deal.
First Merchant
Who will come deal with us?
Shemus
They are out of spirit, Sir, with lack of food,Save four or five. Here, sir, is one of these;The others will gain courage in good time.
MIDDLE-AGED-MAN. I come to deal—if you give honest price.
First Merchant
John Maher, a man of substance, with dull mind,And quiet senses and unventurous heart.The angels think him safe.” Two hundred crowns,All for a soul, a little breath of wind.
The Man
I ask three hundred crowns. You have read thereThat no mere lapse of days can make me yours.
First Merchant
There is something more writ here—“often at nightHe is wakeful from a dread of growing poor,And thereon wonders if there’s any manThat he could rob in safety.”
A Peasant
Who’d have thought it?And I was once alone with him at midnight.
Another Peasant
I will not trust my mother after this.
First Merchant
There is this crack in you—two hundred crowns.
A Peasant
That’s plenty for a rogue.
Shemus
You’ll get no more—so take what’s offered you.
A general murmur, during which the Middle-Aged-Man takes money, and slips into background, where he sinks on to a seat.
First Merchant
Has no one got a better soul than that?If only for the credit of your parishes, Traffic with us.
A Woman
What will you give for mine?
First Merchant
“Soft, handsome, and still young “—not much, I think.”It’s certain that the man she’s married toKnows nothing of what’s hidden in the jarBetween the hour-glass and the pepper-pot.”
First Merchant
“Nor how when he’s awayAt the horse fair the hand that wrote what’s hidWill tap three times upon the window-pane.”
The Woman
And if there is a letter, that is no reasonWhy I should have less money than the others.
First Merchant
You’re almost safe, I give you fifty crowns
A hundred, then.
Shemus
Woman, have sense-come, Come.Is this a time to haggle at the price?There, take it up. There, there. That’s right.
She takes them and goes into the crowd.
First Merchant
Come, deal, deal, deal. It is but for charityWe buy such souls at all; a thousand sinsMade them our Master’s long before we came.
Aleel
Here, take my soul, for I am tired of it.I do not ask a price.
Shemus
Not ask a price?How can you sell your soul without a price?I would not listen to his broken wits;His love for Countess Cathleen has so crazed himHe hardly understands what he is saying.
Aleel
The trouble that has come on Countess Cathleen,The sorrow that is in her wasted face,The burden in her eyes, have broke my wits,And yet I know I’d have you take my soul.
First Merchant
We cannot take your soul, for it is hers.
Aleel
No, but you must. Seeing it cannot help herI have grown tired of it.
First Merchant
Begone from meI may not touch it.
Aleel
Is your power so small?And must I bear it with me all my days?May you be scorned and mocked!
First Merchant
Drag him away.He troubles me.
Teig and Shemus lead Aleel into the crowd.
Second Merchant
His gaze has filled me, brother,With shaking and a dreadful fear.
First Merchant
Lean forwardAnd kiss the circlet where my Master’s lipsWere pressed upon it when he sent us hither;You shall have peace once more.
Second Merchant kisses the gold circlet that is about the head of the First Merchant.
I, too, grow weary,But there is something moving in my heartWhereby I know that what we seek the mostIs drawing near—our labour will soon end.Come, deal, deal, deal, deal, deal; are you all dumb?What, will you keep me from our ancient homeAnd from the eternal revelry?
Shemus
They say you beat the woman down too low.
First Merchant
I offer this great price: a-thousand crownsFor an old woman who was always ugly.
An Old Peasant Woman comes forward, and he takes up a book and reads.
There is but little set down here against her.“She has stolen eggs and fowl when times were bad,But when the times grew better has confessed it;She never missed her chapel of a SundayAnd when she could, paid dues.” Take up your money.
Old Woman
God bless you, Sir.
Oh, sir, a pain went through me!
First Merchant
That name is like a fire to all damned souls.
Murmur among the Peasants, who shrink back from her as she goes out.
Second Peasant
And maybe we shall scream so.
Third Peasant
I tell you there is no such place as hell.
First Merchant
Can such a trifle turn you from your profit?Come, deal; come, deal.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN. Master, I am afraid.
First Merchant
I bought your soul, and there’s no sense in fearNow the soul’s gone.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN. Give me my soul again.
Woman
going on her knees and clinging to Merchant
And take this money too, and give me mine.
Second Merchant
Bear bastards, drink or follow some wild fancy;For sighs and cries are the soul’s work,And you have none.
Another Peasant
Come quickly; if that woman had not screamedI would have lost my soul.
They turn to door, but are stopped by shouts of “Countess Cathleen! Countess Cathleen!”
Cathleen
entering And so you trade once more?
First Merchant
In spite of you.What brings you here, saint with the sapphire eyes?
Cathleen
I come to barter a soul for a great price.
Second Merchant
What matter, if the soul be worth the price?
Cathleen
The people starve, therefore the people goThronging to you. I hear a cry come from themAnd it is in my ears by night and day,And I would have five hundred thousand crownsThat I may feed them till the dearth go by.
First Merchant
. It may be the soul’s worth it.
Cathleen
There is more:The souls that you have bought must be set free.
First Merchant
We know of but one soul that’s worth the price.
Cathleen
Being my own it seems a priceless thing.
A Peasant
Do not, do not, for souls the like of oursAre not precious to God as your soul is.O! what would Heaven do without you, lady?
Another Peasant
Look how their claws clutch in their leathern gloves.
First Merchant
Five hundred thousand crowns; we give the price.The gold is here; the souls even while you speakHave slipped out of our bond, because your faceHas shed a light on them and filled their hearts.But you must sign, for we omit no formIn buying a soul like yours.
Second Merchant
Sign with this quill.It was a feather growing on the cockThat crowed when Peter dared deny his Master,And all who use it have great honour in Hell.
Cathleen leans forward to sign.
Aleel
rushing forward and snatching the parchment from her
Leave all things to the builder of the heavens.
Cathleen
I have no thoughts; I hear a cry—a cry.
Aleel
casting the parchment on the ground
I have seen a vision under a green hedge,A hedge of hips and haws-men yet shall hearThe Archangels rolling Satan’s empty skullOver the mountain-tops.
Teig and Shemus drag him roughly away so that he falls upon the floor among the Peasants. Cathleen picks up parchment and signs, then turns towards the Peasants.
Cathleen
Take up the money, and now come with me;When we are far from this polluted placeI will give everybody money enough.
She goes out, the Peasants crowding round her and kissing her dress. Aleel and the two Merchants are left alone.
Second Merchant
We must away and wait until she dies,Sitting above her tower as two grey owls,Waiting as many years as may be, guardingOur precious jewel; waiting to seize her soul.
First Merchant
We need but hover over her head in the air,For she has only minutes. When she signedHer heart began to break. Hush, hush, I hearThe brazen door of Hell move on its hinges,And the eternal revelry float hitherTo hearten us.
Second Merchant
Leap feathered on the airAnd meet them with her soul caught in your claws.
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 comesBorne in his heavy car, and demons have liftedThe age-weary eyelids from the eyes that of oldTurned gods to stone; Barach, the traitor, comesAnd the lascivious race, Cailitin,That cast a druid weakness and decayOver Sualtem’s and old Dectera’s child;And that great king Hell first took hold uponWhen 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 peaceWith obstinate, crafty, sidelong bitterness.
He moves about as though the air was full of spirits. Oona enters.
Crouch down, old heron, out of the blind storm.
Oona
Where is the Countess Cathleen? All this dayHer eyes were full of tears, and when for a momentHer hand was laid upon my hand it trembled,And now I do not know where she is gone.
Aleel
Cathleen has chosen other friends than us,And they are rising through the hollow world.Demons are out, old heron.
Aleel
She’s bartered it away this very hour,As though we two were never in the world.And they are rising through the hollow world.
First, Orchill, her pale, beautiful head alive,Her body shadowy as vapour driftingUnder the dawn, for she who awoke desireHas but a heart of blood when others die;About her is a vapoury multitudeOf women alluring devils with soft laughterBehind her a host heat of the blood made sin,But all the little pink-white nails have grownTo be great talons.
He seizes Oona and drags her into the middle of the room and Points downward with vehement gestures. The wind roars.
They begin a songAnd 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 need be lost, take mine.
Aleel kneels beside her, but does not seem to hear her words. The Peasants return. They carry the Countess Cathleen and lay her upon the ground before Oona and Aleel. She lies there as if dead.
Oona
O, that so many pitchers of rough clayShould prosper and the porcelain break in two!
She kisses the hands of 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 gustsBlackened the world and shook us on our feetDraw the great bolt, for no man has beheldSo black, bitter, blinding, and sudden a storm.
One who is near the door draws the bolt.
Cathleen
O, hold me, and hold me tightly, for the stormIs dragging me away.
Oona takes her in her arms. A Woman begins to wail.
Peasants
Hush!
PEASANT WOMEN Hush!
OTHER PEASANT WOMEN Hush!
Cathleen
half rising Lay all the bags of money in a heap,And when I am gone, old Oona, share them outTo every man and woman: judge, and giveAccording to their needs.
A Peasant Woman
And will she giveEnough to keep my children through the dearth?
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 gazesUpon the nest under the eave, beforeShe wander the loud waters. Do not weepToo great a while, for there is many a candleOn the High Altar though one fall. Aleel,Who sang about the dancers of the woods,That know not the hard burden of the world,Having but breath in their kind bodies, farewellAnd farewell, Oona, you who played with me,And bore me in your arms about the houseWhen I was but a child and therefore happy,Therefore happy, even like those that dance.The storm is in my hair and I must go.
Oona
Bring me the looking-glass.
A Woman brings it to her out of the inner room. Oona holds it over the lips of Cathleen. All is silent for a moment. And then she speaks in a half scream:
O, she is dead!
A Peasant
She was the great white lily of the world.
A Peasant
She was more beautiful than the pale stars.
An Old Peasant Woman
The little plant I love is broken in two.
Aleel takes 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 faceThat brimmed you up with beauty is no more:And die, dull heart, for she whose mournful wordsMade you a living spirit has passed awayAnd 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 warOf angels upon devils.
He stands up; almost every one is kneeling, but it has grown so dark that only confused forms can be seen.
And I who weepCall curses on you, Time and Fate and Change,And have no excellent hope but the great hourWhen 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 cursesHave 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 clansFly screaming as they fled Moytura of old.
Everything is lost in darkness.
An Old Man
The Almighty wrath at our great weakness and sinHas 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, haff 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 there.
He seizes one of the angels.
Till you speakYou 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 heartHas kissed her lips, and the long blessed hairHas fallen on her face; The Light of LightsLooks 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 peaceThat 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.
Text: The Countess Cathleen, seventh edition, revised (T. Fisher Unwin, London, 1912). Public domain.