The Land Of Hearts Desire | Page 6

finger-tops.
(SHAWN tries to approach her and cannot.)
MAURTEEN. Look, look! There something stops him--look how he
moves his hands As though he rubbed them on a wall of glass!
FATHER HART. I will confront this mighty spirit alone. Be not afraid,
the Father is with us, The Holy Martyrs and the Innocents, The adoring
Magi in their coats of mail, And He who died and rose on the third day
And all the nine angelic hierarchies.
(The CHILD kneels upon the settle beside MARY and puts her arms
about her.)
Cry, daughter, to the Angels and the Saints.
THE CHILD. You shall go with me, newly-married bride,
And gaze upon a merrier multitude. White-armed Nuala, Aengus of the
Birds, Feacra of the hurtling foam, and him Who is the ruler of the
Western Host, Finvarra, and their Land of Heart's Desire, Where beauty
has no ebb, decay no flood, But joy is wisdom, Time an endless song. I
kiss you and the world begins to fade.
SHAWN. Awake out of that trance--and cover up Your eyes and ears.
FATHER HART. She must both look and listen, For only the soul's

choice can save her now. Come over to me, daughter; stand beside me;
Think of this house and of your duties in it.
THE CHILD. Stay and come with me, newly-married bride, For if you
hear him you grow like the rest; Bear children, cook, and bend above
the churn, And wrangle over butter, fowl, and eggs, Until at last, grown
old and bitter of tongue, You're crouching there and shivering at the
grave.
FATHER HART. Daughter, I point you out the way to Heaven.
THE CHILD. But I can lead you, newly-married bride, Where nobody
gets old and crafty and wise, Where nobody gets old and godly and
grave, Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue, And where kind
tongues bring no captivity; For we are but obedient to the thoughts That
drift into the mind at a wink of the eye.
FATHER HART. . By the dear Name of the One crucified, I bid you,
Mary Bruin, come to me.
THE CHILD. I keep you in the name of your own heart.
FATHER HART. It is because I put away the crucifix That I am
nothing, and my power is nothing, I'll bring it here again.
MAURTEEN (clinging to him) No!
BRIDGET. Do not leave us.
FATHER HART. O, let me go before it is too late; It is my sin alone
that brought it all.
(Singing outside.)
THE CHILD. I hear them sing, "Come, newly-married bride, Come, to
the woods and waters and pale lights."
MARY. I will go with you.

FATHER HART. She is lost, alas!
THE CHILD (standing by the door) But clinging mortal hope must fall
from you, For we who ride the winds, run on the waves, And dance
upon the mountains are more light Than dewdrops on the banner of the
dawn.
MARY. O, take me with you.
SHAWN. Beloved, I will keep you. I've more than words, I have these
arms to hold you, Nor all the faery host, do what they please, Shall ever
make me loosen you from these arms.
MARY. Dear face! Dear voice!
THE CHILD. Come, newly-married bride.
MARY. I always loved her world--and yet--and yet--
THE CHILD. White bird, white bird, come with me, little bird.
MARY. She calls me!
THE CHILD. Come with me, little bird.
(Distant dancing figures appear in the wood.)
MARY. I can hear songs and dancing.
SHAWN. Stay with me.
MARY. I think that I would stay--and yet--and yet--
THE CHILD. Come, little bird, with crest of gold.'
MARY (very soft,) And yet--
THE CHILD. Come, little bird with silver feet!

(MARY BRUIN dies, and the CHILD goes.)
SHAWN. She is dead!
BRIDGET. Come from that image; body and soul are gone You have
thrown your arms about a drift of leaves, Or bole of an ash-tree
changed into her image.
FATHER HART. Thus do the spirits of evil snatch their prey, Almost
out of the very hand of God; And day by day their power is more and
more, And men and women leave old paths, for pride Comes knocking
with thin knuckles on the heart.
(Outside there are dancing figures, and it may be a white bird, and
many voices singing.)
"The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the
lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away; While the
faeries dance in a place apart, Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,
Tossing their milk-white arms in the air; For they hear the wind laugh
and murmur and sing Of a land where even the old are fair, And even
the wise are merry of tongue; But I heard a