The Countess Cathleen | Page 8

of pearls!
(They begin taking jewels out of bag.)
SECOND MERCHANT. You must not touch them, put them in the bag, And now take up the bags upon your backs?And carry them to Shemus Rua's house?On the wood's border.
SPIRITS. No, no, no, no!
FIRST SPIRIT. No, no, let us away;?From this we shall not come?Cry out to' us who may.
SECOND SPIRIT. Sorrow has made me dumb.
(They go.)
SECOND MERCHANT. They're gone, for little do they care for me, And if I called they would but turn and mock,?But you they dare not disobey.
FIRST MERCHANT (rising) These dancers?Are always the most troublesome of spirits.
(He comes down the stage and stands facing the arches. He makes a gesture of command. The SPIRITS come back whimpering. They lift the bags and go out. Three speak as they are taking ub the bags.
FIRST SPIRIT. From this day out we'll never dance again.
SECOND SPIRIT. Never again.
THIRD SPIRIT. Sorrow has made me dumb.
SECOND MERCHANT (looking into chapel door)?She has heard nothing; she has fallen asleep.
Our lord would be well pleased if we could win her.?Now that the winds are heavy with our kind,?Might we not kill her, and bear off her spirit?Before the mob of angels were astir?
FIRST MERCHANT. If we would win this turquoise for our lord It must go dropping down of its free will?But I've a plan.
SECOND MERCHANT. To take her soul to-night?
FIRST MERCHANT. Because I am of the ninth and mightiest hell Where are all kings, I have a plan.
(Voices.)
SECOND MERCHANT. Too late;?For somebody is stirring in the house; the noise?That the sea creatures made as they came hither,?Their singing and their endless chattering,?Has waked the house. I hear the chairs pushed back,?And many shuffling feet. All the old men and women?She's gathered in the house are coming hither.
A VOICE. (within) It was here.
ANOTHER VOICE. No, farther away.
ANOTHER VOICE. It was in the western tower.
ANOTHER VOICE. Come quickly, we will search the western tower.
FIRST MERCHANT. We still have time--they search the distant rooms.
SECOND MERCHANT. Brother, I heard a sound in there--a sound That troubles me.
(Going to the door of the oratory and peering through it.)?Upon the altar steps The Countess tosses, murmuring in her sleep A broken Paternoster.
FIRST MERCHANT. Do not fear,?For when she has awaked the prayer will cease.
SECOND MERCHANT. What, would you wake her?
FIRST MERCHANT. I will speak with her,?And mix with all her thoughts a thought to serve.--?Lady, we've news that's crying out for speech.
(CATHLEEN wakes and comes to door of the chapel.)
Cathleen. Who calls?
FIRST MERCHANT. We have brought news.
CATHLEEN. What are you?
FIRST MERCHANT.?We are merchants, and we know the book of the world?Because we have walked upon its leaves; and there?Have read of late matters that much concern you;?And noticing the castle door stand open,?Came in to find an ear.
CATHLEEN. The door stands open,?That no one who is famished or afraid,?Despair of help or of a welcome with it.?But you have news, you say.
FIRST MERCHANT. We saw a man,?Heavy with sickness in the bog of Allen,?Whom you had bid buy cattle. Near Fair Head?We saw your grain ships lying all becalmed?In the dark night; and not less still than they,?Burned all their mirrored lanthorns in the sea.
CATHLEEN.. My thanks to God, to Mary and the angels,?That I have money in my treasury,?And can buy grain from those who have stored it up?To prosper on the hunger of the poor.?But you've been far and know the signs of things,?When will this yellow vapour no more hang?And creep about the fields, and this great heat?Vanish away, and grass show its green shoots?
FIRST MERCHANT. There is no sign of change--day copies day, Green things are dead--the cattle too are dead?Or dying--and on all the vapour hangs,?And fattens with disease and glows with heat.?In you is all the hope of all the land.
CATHLEEN. And heard you of the demons who buy souls?
FIRST MERCHANT.?There are some men who hold they have wolves' heads,?And say their limbs--dried by the infinite flame--?Have all the speed of storms; others, again,?Say they are gross and little; while a few?Will have it they seem much as mortals are,?But tall and brown and travelled--like us--lady,?Yet all agree a power is in their looks?That makes men bow, and flings a casting-net?About their souls, and that all men would go?And barter those poor vapours, were it not?You bribe them with the safety of your gold.
CATHLEEN. Praise be to God, to Mary, and the angels?That I am wealthy! Wherefore do they sell?
FIRST MERCHANT. As we came in at the great door we saw?Your porter sleeping in his niche--a soul?Too little to be worth a hundred pence,?And yet they buy it for a hundred crowns.?But for a soul like yours, I heard them say,?They would give five hundred thousand crowns and more.
CATHLEEN. How can a heap of crowns pay for a soul??Is the green grave so terrible