





      THE GREEN HELMET AND
          OTHER POEMS




      THE GREEN HELMET AND
          OTHER POEMS

              BY

      WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS


           NEW YORK
     THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
  LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
             1912

     _All rights reserved_




  Copyright, 1911, by
  WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

  Copyright, 1912, by
  THE MACMILLAN CO.

  _Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1912_




      THE GREEN HELMET AND
          OTHER POEMS




HIS DREAM


  I swayed upon the gaudy stern
  The butt end of a steering oar,
  And everywhere that I could turn
  Men ran upon the shore.

  And though I would have hushed the crowd
  There was no mother's son but said,
  "What is the figure in a shroud
  Upon a gaudy bed?"

  And fishes bubbling to the brim
  Cried out upon that thing beneath,
  It had such dignity of limb,
  By the sweet name of Death.

  Though I'd my finger on my lip,
  What could I but take up the song?
  And fish and crowd and gaudy ship
  Cried out the whole night long,

  Crying amid the glittering sea,
  Naming it with ecstatic breath,
  Because it had such dignity
  By the sweet name of Death.




A WOMAN HOMER SUNG


  If any man drew near
  When I was young,
  I thought, "He holds her dear,"
  And shook with hate and fear.
  But oh, 'twas bitter wrong
  If he could pass her by
  With an indifferent eye.

  Whereon I wrote and wrought,
  And now, being gray,
  I dream that I have brought
  To such a pitch my thought
  That coming time can say,
  "He shadowed in a glass
  What thing her body was."

  For she had fiery blood
  When I was young,
  And trod so sweetly proud
  As 'twere upon a cloud,
  A woman Homer sung,
  That life and letters seem
  But an heroic dream.




THAT THE NIGHT COME


  She lived in storm and strife.
  Her soul had such desire
  For what proud death may bring
  That it could not endure
  The common good of life,
  But lived as 'twere a king
  That packed his marriage day
  With banneret and pennon,
  Trumpet and kettledrum,
  And the outrageous cannon,
  To bundle Time away
  That the night come.




THE CONSOLATION


  I had this thought awhile ago,
  "My darling cannot understand
  What I have done, or what would do
  In this blind bitter land."

  And I grew weary of the sun
  Until my thoughts cleared up again,
  Remembering that the best I have done
  Was done to make it plain;

  That every year I have cried, "At length
  My darling understands it all,
  Because I have come into my strength,
  And words obey my call."

  That had she done so who can say
  What would have shaken from the sieve?
  I might have thrown poor words away
  And been content to live.




FRIENDS


  Now must I these three praise--
  Three women that have wrought
  What joy is in my days;
  One that no passing thought,
  Nor those unpassing cares,
  No, not in these fifteen
  Many times troubled years,
  Could ever come between
  Heart and delighted heart;
  And one because her hand
  Had strength that could unbind
  What none can understand,
  What none can have and thrive,
  Youth's dreamy load, till she
  So changed me that I live
  Labouring in ecstasy.
  And what of her that took
  All till my youth was gone
  With scarce a pitying look?
  How should I praise that one?
  When day begins to break
  I count my good and bad,
  Being wakeful for her sake,
  Remembering what she had,
  What eagle look still shows,
  While up from my heart's root
  So great a sweetness flows
  I shake from head to foot.




NO SECOND TROY


  Why should I blame her that she filled my days
  With misery, or that she would of late
  Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
  Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
  Had they but courage equal to desire?
  What could have made her peaceful with a mind
  That nobleness made simple as a fire,
  With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
  That is not natural in an age like this,
  Being high and solitary and most stern?
  Why, what could she have done being what she is?
  Was there another Troy for her to burn?




RECONCILIATION


  Some may have blamed you that you took away
  The verses that could move them on the day
  When, the ears being deafened, the sight of the eyes blind
  With lightning you went from me, and I could find
  Nothing to make a song about but kings,
  Helmets, and swords, and half-forgotten things
  That were like memories of you--but now
  We'll out, for the world lives as long ago;
  And while we're in our laughing, weeping fit,
  Hurl helmets, crowns, and swords into the pit.
  But, dear, cling close to me; since you were gone,
  My barren thoughts have chilled me to the bone.




KING AND NO KING


  "Would it were anything but merely voice!"
  The No King cried who after that was King,
  Because he had not heard of anything
  That balanced with a word is more than noise;
  Yet Old Romance being kind, let him prevail
  Somewhere or somehow that I have forgot,
  Though he'd but cannon--Whereas we that had thought
  To have lit upon as clean and sweet a tale
  Have been defeated by that pledge you gave
  In momentary anger long ago;
  And I that have not your faith, how shall I know
  That in the blinding light beyond the grave
  We'll find so good a thing as that we have lost?
  The hourly kindness, the day's common speech,
  The habitual content of each with each
  When neither soul nor body has been crossed.




THE COLD HEAVEN


  Suddenly I saw the cold and rook delighting Heaven
  That seemed as though ice burned and was but the more ice,
  And thereupon imagination and heart were driven
  So wild, that every casual thought of that and this
  Vanished, and left but memories, that should be out of season
  With the hot blood of youth, of love crossed long ago;
  And I took all the blame out of all sense and reason,
  Until I cried and trembled and rocked to and fro,
  Riddled with light. Ah! when the ghost begins to quicken,
  Confusion of the death-bed over, is it sent
  Out naked on the roads, as the books say, and stricken
  By the injustice of the skies for punishment?




PEACE


  Ah, that Time could touch a form
  That could show what Homer's age
  Bred to be a hero's wage.
  "Were not all her life but storm,
  Would not painters paint a form
  Of such noble lines" I said.
  "Such a delicate high head,
  So much sternness and such charm,
  Till they had changed us to like strength?"
  Ah, but peace that comes at length,
  Came when Time had touched her form.




AGAINST UNWORTHY PRAISE


  O heart, be at peace, because
  Nor knave nor dolt can break
  What's not for their applause,
  Being for a woman's sake.
  Enough if the work has seemed,
  So did she your strength renew,
  A dream that a lion had dreamed
  Till the wilderness cried aloud,
  A secret between you two,
  Between the proud and the proud.

  What, still you would have their praise!
  But here's a haughtier text,
  The labyrinth of her days
  That her own strangeness perplexed;
  And how what her dreaming gave
  Earned slander, ingratitude,
  From self-same dolt and knave;
  Aye, and worse wrong than these.
  Yet she, singing upon her road,
  Half lion, half child, is at peace.




THE FASCINATION OF WHAT'S DIFFICULT


  The fascination of what's difficult
  Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent
  Spontaneous joy and natural content
  Out of my heart. There's something ails our colt
  That must, as if it had not holy blood,
  Nor on an Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud,
  Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt
  As though it dragged road metal. My curse on plays
  That have to be set up in fifty ways,
  On the day's war with every knave and dolt,
  Theatre business, management of men.
  I swear before the dawn comes round again
  I'll find the stable and pull out the bolt.




A DRINKING SONG


  Wine comes in at the mouth
  And love comes in at the eye;
  That's all we shall know for truth
  Before we grow old and die.
  I lift the glass to my mouth,
  I look at you, and I sigh.




THE COMING OF WISDOM WITH TIME


  Though leaves are many, the root is one;
  Through all the lying days of my youth
  I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
  Now I may wither into the truth.




ON HEARING THAT THE STUDENTS OF OUR NEW UNIVERSITY HAVE JOINED THE
ANCIENT ORDER OF HIBERNIANS AND THE AGITATION AGAINST IMMORAL LITERATURE


  Where, where but here have Pride and Truth,
  That long to give themselves for wage,
  To shake their wicked sides at youth
  Restraining reckless middle-age.




TO A POET, WHO WOULD HAVE ME PRAISE CERTAIN BAD POETS, IMITATORS OF HIS
AND MINE


  You say, as I have often given tongue
  In praise of what another's said or sung,
  'Twere politic to do the like by these;
  But where's the wild dog that has praised his fleas?




THE ATTACK ON THE "PLAY BOY"


  Once, when midnight smote the air,
  Eunuchs ran through Hell and met
  Round about Hell's gate, to stare
  At great Juan riding by,
  And like these to rail and sweat,
  Maddened by that sinewy thigh.




A LYRIC FROM AN UNPUBLISHED PLAY


  "Put off that mask of burning gold
  With emerald eyes."
  "O no, my dear, you make so bold
  To find if hearts be wild and wise,
  And yet not cold."

  "I would but find what's there to find,
  Love or deceit."
  "It was the mask engaged your mind,
  And after set your heart to beat,
  Not what's behind."

  "But lest you are my enemy,
  I must enquire."
  "O no, my dear, let all that be,
  What matter, so there is but fire
  In you, in me?"




UPON A HOUSE SHAKEN BY THE LAND AGITATION


  How should the world be luckier if this house,
  Where passion and precision have been one
  Time out of mind, became too ruinous
  To breed the lidless eye that loves the sun?
  And the sweet laughing eagle thoughts that grow
  Where wings have memory of wings, and all
  That comes of the best knit to the best? Although
  Mean roof-trees were the sturdier for its fall,
  How should their luck run high enough to reach
  The gifts that govern men, and after these
  To gradual Time's last gift, a written speech
  Wrought of high laughter, loveliness and ease?




AT THE ABBEY THEATRE

_Imitated from Ronsard_


  Dear Craoibhin Aoibhin, look into our case.
  When we are high and airy hundreds say
  That if we hold that flight they'll leave the place,
  While those same hundreds mock another day
  Because we have made our art of common things,
  So bitterly, you'd dream they longed to look
  All their lives through into some drift of wings.
  You've dandled them and fed them from the book
  And know them to the bone; impart to us--
  We'll keep the secret--a new trick to please.
  Is there a bridle for this Proteus
  That turns and changes like his draughty seas?
  Or is there none, most popular of men,
  But when they mock us that we mock again?




THESE ARE THE CLOUDS


  These are the clouds about the fallen sun,
  The majesty that shuts his burning eye;
  The weak lay hand on what the strong has done,
  Till that be tumbled that was lifted high
  And discord follow upon unison,
  And all things at one common level lie.
  And therefore, friend, if your great race were run
  And these things came, so much the more thereby
  Have you made greatness your companion,
  Although it be for children that you sigh:
  These are the clouds about the fallen sun,
  The majesty that shuts his burning eye.




AT GALWAY RACES


  Out yonder, where the race course is,
  Delight makes all of the one mind,
  Riders upon the swift horses,
  The field that closes in behind:
  We, too, had good attendance once,
  Hearers and hearteners of the work;
  Aye, horsemen for companions,
  Before the merchant and the clerk
  Breathed on the world with timid breath.
  Sing on: sometime, and at some new moon,
  We'll learn that sleeping is not death,
  Hearing the whole earth change its tune,
  Its flesh being wild, and it again
  Crying aloud as the race course is,
  And we find hearteners among men
  That ride upon horses.




A FRIEND'S ILLNESS


  Sickness brought me this
  Thought, in that scale of his:
  Why should I be dismayed
  Though flame had burned the whole
  World, as it were a coal,
  Now I have seen it weighed
  Against a soul?




ALL THINGS CAN TEMPT ME


  All things can tempt me from this craft of verse:
  One time it was a woman's face, or worse--
  The seeming needs of my fool-driven land;
  Now nothing but comes readier to the hand
  Than this accustomed toil. When I was young,
  I had not given a penny for a song
  Did not the poet sing it with such airs
  That one believed he had a sword upstairs;
  Yet would be now, could I but have my wish,
  Colder and dumber and deafer than a fish.




THE YOUNG MAN'S SONG


  I whispered, "I am too young,"
  And then, "I am old enough,"
  Wherefore I threw a penny
  To find out if I might love;
  "Go and love, go and love, young man,
  If the lady be young and fair,"
  Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
  I am looped in the loops of her hair.

  Oh love is the crooked thing,
  There is nobody wise enough
  To find out all that is in it,
  For he would be thinking of love
  Till the stars had run away,
  And the shadows eaten the moon;
  Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
  One cannot begin it too soon.




THE GREEN HELMET

_An Heroic Farce_


  THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

  LAEGAIRE     LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
  CONALL       CONALL'S WIFE
  CUCHULAIN    LAEG, _Cuchulain's chariot-driver_
  EMER         RED MAN, _A Spirit_

  Horse Boys and Scullions, Black Men, etc.




THE GREEN HELMET

_An Heroic Farce_


    SCENE: _A house made of logs. There are two windows at the back and
    a door which cuts off one of the corners of the room. Through the
    door one can see low rocks which make the ground outside higher than
    it is within, and beyond the rocks a misty moon-lit sea. Through the
    windows one can see nothing but the sea. There is a great chair at
    the opposite side to the door, and in front of it a table with cups
    and a flagon of ale. Here and there are stools._

    _At the Abbey Theatre the house is orange red and the chairs and
    tables and flagons black, with a slight purple tinge which is not
    clearly distinguishable from the black. The rocks are black with a
    few green touches. The sea is green and luminous, and all the
    characters except the RED MAN and the Black Men are dressed in
    various shades of green, one or two with touches of purple which
    look nearly black. The Black Men all wear dark purple and have eared
    caps, and at the end their eyes should look green from the reflected
    light of the sea. The RED MAN is altogether in red. He is very tall,
    and his height increased by horns on the Green Helmet. The effect is
    intentionally violent and startling._


LAEGAIRE

  What is that? I had thought that I saw, though but in the wink of an
      eye,
  A cat-headed man out of Connaught go pacing and spitting by;
  But that could not be.

CONALL

            You have dreamed it--there's nothing out there.
  I killed them all before daybreak--I hoked them out of their lair;
  I cut off a hundred heads with a single stroke of my sword,
  And then I danced on their graves and carried away their hoard.

LAEGAIRE

  Does anything stir on the sea?

CONALL

                 Not even a fish or a gull:
  I can see for a mile or two, now that the moon's at the full.

    [_A distant shout._]

LAEGAIRE

  Ah--there--there is someone who calls us.

CONALL

             But from the landward side,
  And we have nothing to fear that has not come up from the tide;
  The rocks and the bushes cover whoever made that noise,
  But the land will do us no harm.

LAEGAIRE

            It was like Cuchulain's voice.

CONALL

  But that's an impossible thing.

LAEGAIRE

              An impossible thing indeed.

CONALL

  For he will never come home, he has all that he could need
  In that high windy Scotland--good luck in all that he does.
  Here neighbour wars on neighbour and why there is no man knows,
  And if a man is lucky all wish his luck away,
  And take his good name from him between a day and a day.

LAEGAIRE

  I would he'd come for all that, and make his young wife know
  That though she may be his wife, she has no right to go
  Before your wife and my wife, as she would have gone last night
  Had they not caught at her dress, and pulled her as was right;
  And she makes light of us though our wives do all that they can.
  She spreads her tail like a peacock and praises none but her man.

CONALL

  A man in a long green cloak that covers him up to the chin
  Comes down through the rocks and hazels.

LAEGAIRE

        Cry out that he cannot come in.

CONALL

  He must look for his dinner elsewhere, for no one alive shall stop
  Where a shame must alight on us two before the dawn is up.

LAEGAIRE

  No man on the ridge of the world must ever know that but us two.

CONALL

    [_Outside door_]

  Go away, go away, go away.

YOUNG MAN

    [_Outside door_]

     I will go when the night is through
  And I have eaten and slept and drunk to my heart's delight.

CONALL

  A law has been made that none shall sleep in this house to-night.

YOUNG MAN

  Who made that law?

CONALL

  We made it, and who has so good a right?
  Who else has to keep the house from the Shape-Changers till day?

YOUNG MAN

  Then I will unmake the law, so get you out of the way.

    [_He pushes past CONALL and goes into house_]

CONALL

  I thought that no living man could have pushed me from the door,
  Nor could any living man do it but for the dip in the floor;
  And had I been rightly ready there's no man living could do it,
  Dip or no dip.

LAEGAIRE

    Go out--if you have your wits, go out,
  A stone's throw further on you will find a big house where
  Our wives will give you supper, and you'll sleep sounder there,
  For it's a luckier house.

YOUNG MAN

              I'll eat and sleep where I will.

LAEGAIRE

  Go out or I will make you.

YOUNG MAN

    [_Forcing up LAEGAIRE'S arm, passing him and putting his shield on
    the wall over the chair_]

           Not till I have drunk my fill.
  But may some dog defend me for a cat of wonder's up.
  Laegaire and Conall are here, the flagon full to the top,
  And the cups--

LAEGAIRE

                  It is Cuchulain.

CUCHULAIN

             The cups are dry as a bone.

    [_He sits on chair and drinks_]

CONALL

  Go into Scotland again, or where you will, but begone
  From this unlucky country that was made when the devil spat.

CUCHULAIN

  If I lived here a hundred years, could a worse thing come than that
  Laegaire and Conall should know me and bid me begone to my face?

CONALL

  We bid you begone from a house that has fallen on shame and disgrace.

CUCHULAIN

  I am losing patience, Conall--I find you stuffed with pride,
  The flagon full to the brim, the front door standing wide;
  You'd put me off with words, but the whole thing's plain enough,
  You are waiting for some message to bring you to war or love
  In that old secret country beyond the wool-white waves,
  Or it may be down beneath them in foam-bewildered caves
  Where nine forsaken sea queens fling shuttles to and fro;
  But beyond them, or beneath them, whether you will or no,
  I am going too.

LAEGAIRE

           Better tell it all out to the end;
  He was born to luck in the cradle, his good luck may amend
  The bad luck we were born to.

CONALL

          I'll lay the whole thing bare.
  You saw the luck that he had when he pushed in past me there.
  Does anything stir on the sea?

LAEGAIRE

          Not even a fish or a gull.

CONALL

  You were gone but a little while. We were there and the ale-cup full.
  We were half drunk and merry, and midnight on the stroke
  When a wide, high man came in with a red foxy cloak,
  With half-shut foxy eyes and a great laughing mouth,
  And he said when we bid him drink, that he had so great a drouth
  He could drink the sea.

CUCHULAIN

    I thought he had come from one of you
  Out of some Connaught rath, and would lap up milk and mew;
  But if he so loved water I have the tale awry.

CONALL

  You would not be so merry if he were standing by,
  For when we had sung or danced as he were our next of kin
  He promised to show us a game, the best that ever had been;
  And when we had asked what game, he answered, "Why, whip off my head!
  Then one of you two stoop down, and I'll whip off his," he said.
  "A head for a head," he said, "that is the game that I play."

CUCHULAIN

  How could he whip off a head when his own had been whipped away?

CONALL

  We told him it over and over, and that ale had fuddled his wit,
  But he stood and laughed at us there, as though his sides would split,
  Till I could stand it no longer, and whipped off his head at a blow,
  Being mad that he did not answer, and more at his laughing so,
  And there on the ground where it fell it went on laughing at me.

LAEGAIRE

  Till he took it up in his hands--

CONALL

        And splashed himself into the sea.

CUCHULAIN

  I have imagined as good when I've been as deep in the cup.

LAEGAIRE

  You never did.

CUCHULAIN

               And believed it.

CONALL

            Cuchulain, when will you stop
  Boasting of your great deeds, and weighing yourself with us two,
  And crying out to the world whatever we say or do,
  That you've said or done a better?--Nor is it a drunkard's tale,
  Though we said to ourselves at first that it all came out of the ale,
  And thinking that if we told it we should be a laughing-stock,
  Swore we should keep it secret.

LAEGAIRE

        But twelve months upon the clock.

CONALL

  A twelvemonth from the first time.

LAEGAIRE

         And the jug full up to the brim:
  For we had been put from our drinking by the very thought of him.

CONALL

  We stood as we're standing now.

LAEGAIRE

         The horns were as empty.

CONALL

                              When
  He ran up out of the sea with his head on his shoulders again.

CUCHULAIN

  Why, this is a tale worth telling.

CONALL

  And he called for his debt and his right,
  And said that the land was disgraced because of us two from that night
  If we did not pay him his debt.

LAEGAIRE

              What is there to be said
  When a man with a right to get it has come to ask for your head?

CONALL

  If you had been sitting there you had been silent like us.

LAEGAIRE

  He said that in twelve months more he would come again to this house
  And ask his debt again. Twelve months are up to-day.

CONALL

  He would have followed after if we had run away.

LAEGAIRE

  Will he tell every mother's son that we have broken our word?

CUCHULAIN

  Whether he does or does not we'll drive him out with the sword,
  And take his life in the bargain if he but dare to scoff.

CONALL

  How can you fight with a head that laughs when you've whipped it off?

LAEGAIRE

  Or a man that can pick it up and carry it out in his hand?

CONALL

  He is coming now, there's a splash and a rumble along the strand
  As when he came last.

CUCHULAIN

  Come, and put all your backs to the door.

    [_A tall, red-headed, red-cloaked man stands upon the threshold
    against the misty green of the sea; the ground, higher without than
    within the house, makes him seem taller even than he is. He leans
    upon a great two-handed sword_]

LAEGAIRE

  It is too late to shut it, for there he stands once more
  And laughs like the sea.

CUCHULAIN

  Old herring--You whip off heads! Why, then
  Whip off your own, for it seems you can clap it on again.
  Or else go down in the sea, go down in the sea, I say,
  Find that old juggler Manannan and whip his head away;
  Or the Red Man of the Boyne, for they are of your own sort,
  Or if the waves have vexed you and you would find a sport
  Of a more Irish fashion, go fight without a rest
  A caterwauling phantom among the winds of the west.
  But what are you waiting for? into the water, I say!
  If there's no sword can harm you, I've an older trick to play,
  An old five-fingered trick to tumble you out of the place;
  I am Sualtim's son Cuchulain--what, do you laugh in my face?

RED MAN

  So you too think me in earnest in wagering poll for poll!
  A drinking joke and a gibe and a juggler's feat, that is all,
  To make the time go quickly--for I am the drinker's friend,
  The kindest of all Shape-Changers from here to the world's end,
  The best of all tipsy companions. And now I bring you a gift:
  I will lay it there on the ground for the best of you all to lift,

    [_He lays his Helmet on the ground_]

  And wear upon his own head, and choose for yourselves the best.
  O! Laegaire and Conall are brave, but they were afraid of my jest.
  Well, maybe I jest too grimly when the ale is in the cup.
  There, I'm forgiven now--

    [_Then in a more solemn voice as he goes out_]

                Let the bravest take it up.

    [_CONALL takes up Helmet and gazes at it with delight_]

  LAEGAIRE

    [_Singing, with a swaggering stride_]

  Laegaire is best;
  Between water and hill,
  He fought in the west
  With cat heads, until
  At the break of day
  All fell by his sword,
  And he carried away
  Their hidden hoard.

    [_He seizes the Helmet_]

CONALL

  Give it me, for what did you find in the bag
  But the straw and the broken delf and the bits of dirty rag
  You'd taken for good money?

CUCHULAIN

            No, no, but give it me.

    [_He takes Helmet_]

CONALL

  The Helmet's mine or Laegaire's--you're the youngest of us three.

CUCHULAIN

    [_Filling Helmet with ale_]

  I did not take it to keep it--the Red Man gave it for one,
  But I shall give it to all--to all of us three or to none;
  That is as you look upon it--we will pass it to and fro,
  And time and time about, drink out of it and so
  Stroke into peace this cat that has come to take our lives.
  Now it is purring again, and now I drink to your wives,
  And I drink to Emer, my wife.

    [_A great noise without and shouting_]

  Why, what in God's name is that noise?

CONALL

  What else but the charioteers and the kitchen and stable boys
  Shouting against each other, and the worst of all is your own,
  That chariot-driver, Laeg, and they'll keep it up till the dawn,
  And there's not a man in the house that will close his eyes to-night,
  Or be able to keep them from it, or know what set them to fight.

    [_A noise of horns without_]

  There, do you hear them now? such hatred has each for each
  They have taken the hunting horns to drown one other's speech
  For fear the truth may prevail.--Here's your good health and long life,
  And, though she be quarrelsome, good health to Emer, your wife.

    [_The charioteers, Stable Boys and Kitchen Boys come running in.
    They carry great horns, ladles and the like_]

LAEG

  I am Laeg, Cuchulain's driver, and my master's cock of the yard.

ANOTHER

  Conall would scatter his feathers.

    [_Confused murmurs_]

LAEGAIRE

    [_To_ CUCHULAIN]

         No use, they won't hear a word.

CONALL

  They'll keep it up till the dawn.

ANOTHER

            It is Laegaire that is the best,
  For he fought with cats in Connaught while Conall took his rest
  And drained his ale pot.

ANOTHER

    Laegaire--what does a man of his sort
  Care for the like of us! He did it for his own sport.

ANOTHER

  It was all mere luck at the best.

ANOTHER

                    But Conall, I say--

ANOTHER

                           Let me speak.

LAEG

  You'd be dumb if the cock of the yard would but open his beak.

ANOTHER

  Before your cock was born, my master was in the fight.

LAEG

  Go home and praise your grand-dad. They took to the horns for spite,
  For I said that no cock of your sort had been born since the fight began.

ANOTHER

  Conall has got it, the best man has got it, and I am his man.

CUCHULAIN

  Who was it started this quarrel?

A STABLE BOY

                       It was Laeg.

ANOTHER

                  It was Laeg done it all.

LAEG

  A high, wide, foxy man came where we sat in the hall,
  Getting our supper ready, with a great voice like the wind,
  And cried that there was a helmet, or something of the kind,
  That was for the foremost man upon the ridge of the earth.
  So I cried your name through the hall,

    [_The others cry out and blow horns, partly drowning the rest of his
    speech_]

              but they denied its worth,
  Preferring Laegaire or Conall, and they cried to drown my voice;
  But I have so strong a throat that I drowned all their noise
  Till they took to the hunting horns and blew them into my face,
  And as neither side would give in--we would settle it in this place.
  Let the Helmet be taken from Conall.

A STABLE BOY

          No, Conall is the best man here.

ANOTHER

  Give it to Laegaire that made the murderous cats pay dear.

CUCHULAIN

  It has been given to none: that our rivalry might cease,
  We have turned that murderous cat into a cup of peace.
  I drank the first; and then Conall; give it to Laegaire now,

    [_CONALL gives Helmet to LAEGAIRE_]

  That it may purr in his hand and all of our servants know
  That since the ale went in, its claws went out of sight.

A SERVANT

  That's well--I will stop my shouting.

ANOTHER

                 Cuchulain is in the right;
  I am tired of this big horn that has made me hoarse as a rook.

LAEG

  Cuchulain, you drank the first.

ANOTHER

             By drinking the first he took
  The whole of the honours himself.

LAEG

         Cuchulain, you drank the first.

ANOTHER

  If Laegaire drink from it now he claims to be last and worst.

ANOTHER

  Cuchulain and Conall have drunk.

ANOTHER

                         He is lost if he taste a drop.

LAEGAIRE

    [_Laying Helmet on table_]

  Did you claim to be better than us by drinking first from the cup?

CUCHULAIN

    [_His words are partly drowned by the murmurs of the crowd though he
    speaks very loud_]

  That juggler from the sea, that old red herring it is
  Who has set us all by the ears--he brought the Helmet for this,
  And because we would not quarrel he ran elsewhere to shout
  That Conall and Laegaire wronged me, till all had fallen out.

    [_The murmur grows less so that his words are heard_]

  Who knows where he is now or who he is spurring to fight?
  So get you gone, and whatever may cry aloud in the night,
  Or show itself in the air, be silent until morn.

A SERVANT

  Cuchulain is in the right--I am tired of this big horn.

CUCHULAIN

  Go!

    [_The Servants turn toward the door but stop on hearing the voices
    of Women outside_]

LAEGAIRE'S WIFE

    [_Without_]

        Mine is the better to look at.

CONALL'S WIFE

    [_Without_]

              But mine is better born.

EMER

    [_Without_]

  My man is the pithier man.

CUCHULAIN

                Old hurricane, well done!
  You've set our wives to the game that they may egg us on;
  We are to kill each other that you may sport with us.
  Ah, now, they've begun to wrestle as to who'll be first at the house.

    [_The Women come to the door struggling_]

EMER

  No, I have the right of place for I married the better man.

CONALL'S WIFE

    [_Pulling Emer back_]

  My nails in your neck and shoulder.

LAEGAIRE'S WIFE

          And go before me if you can.
  My husband fought in the West.

CONALL'S WIFE

    [_Kneeling in the door so as to keep the others out who pull at
    her_]

      But what did he fight with there
  But sidelong and spitting and helpless shadows of the dim air?
  And what did he carry away but straw and broken delf?

LAEGAIRE'S WIFE

  Your own man made up that tale trembling alone by himself,
  Drowning his terror.

EMER

    [_Forcing herself in front_]

  I am Emer, it is I go first through the door.
  No one shall walk before me, or praise any man before
  My man has been praised.

CUCHULAIN

    [_Spreading his arms across the door so as to close it_]

    Come, put an end to their quarrelling:
  One is as fair as the other, and each one the wife of a king.
  Break down the painted boards between the sill and the floor
  That they come in together, each one at her own door.

    [_LAEGAIRE and CONALL begin to break out the bottoms of the windows,
    then their wives go to the windows, each to the window where her
    husband is. EMER stands at the door and sings while the boards are
    being broken out_]

EMER

  Nothing that he has done,
  His mind that is fire,
  His body that is sun,
  Have set my head higher
  Than all the world's wives.
  Himself on the wind
  Is the gift that he gives,
  Therefore womenkind,
  When their eyes have met mine,
  Grow cold and grow hot,
  Troubled as with wine
  By a secret thought,
  Preyed upon, fed upon
  By jealousy and desire.
  I am moon to that sun,
  I am steel to that fire,

    [_The windows are now broken down to floor. CUCHULAIN takes his
    spear from the door, and the three Women come in at the same
    moment_]

EMER

  Cuchulain, put off this sloth and awake:
  I will sing till I've stiffened your lip against every knave that would
      take
  A share of your honour.

LAEGAIRE'S WIFE

  You lie, for your man would take from my man.

CONALL'S WIFE

    [_To LAEGAIRE'S WIFE_]

  You say that, you double-face, and your own husband began.

CUCHULAIN

    [_Taking up Helmet from table_]

  Town land may rail at town land till all have gone to wrack,
  The very straws may wrangle till they've thrown down the stack;
  The very door-posts bicker till they've pulled in the door,
  The very ale-jars jostle till the ale is on the floor,
  But this shall help no further.

    [_He throws Helmet into the sea_]

LAEGAIRE'S WIFE

                It was not for your head,
  And so you would let none wear it, but fling it away instead.

CONALL'S WIFE

  But you shall answer for it, for you've robbed my man by this.

CONALL

  You have robbed us both, Cuchulain.

LAEGAIRE

             The greatest wrong there is
  On the wide ridge of the world has been done to us two this day.

EMER

    [_Drawing her dagger_]

  Who is for Cuchulain?

CUCHULAIN

                     Silence!

EMER

            Who is for Cuchulain, I say?

    [_She sings the same words as before, flourishing her dagger about.
    While she is singing, CONALL'S WIFE and LAEGAIRE'S WIFE draw their
    daggers and run at her, but CUCHULAIN forces them back. LAEGAIRE and
    CONALL draw their swords to strike CUCHULAIN_]

LAEGAIRE'S WIFE

    [_Crying out so as to be heard through EMER'S singing_]

  Deafen her singing with horns!

CONALL'S WIFE

      Cry aloud! blow horns! make a noise!

LAEGAIRE'S WIFE

  Blow horns, clap hands, or shout, so that you smother her voice!

    [_The Horse Boys and Scullions blow their horns or fight among
    themselves. There is a deafening noise and a confused fight.
    Suddenly three black hands come through the windows and put out the
    torches. It is now pitch dark, but for a faint light outside the
    house which merely shows that there are moving forms, but not who or
    what they are, and in the darkness one can hear low terrified
    voices_]

A VOICE

  Coal-black, and headed like cats, they came up over the strand.

ANOTHER VOICE

  And I saw one stretch to a torch and cover it with his hand.

ANOTHER VOICE

  Another sooty fellow has plucked the moon from the air.

    [_A light gradually comes into the house from the sea, on which the
    moon begins to show once more. There is no light within the house,
    and the great beams of the walls are dark and full of shadows, and
    the persons of the play dark too against the light. The RED MAN is
    seen standing in the midst of the house. The black cat-headed Men
    crouch and stand about the door. One carries the Helmet, one the
    great sword_]

RED MAN

  I demand the debt that's owing. Let some man kneel down there
  That I may cut his head off, or all shall go to wrack.

CUCHULAIN

  He played and paid with his head and it's right that we pay him back,
  And give him more than he gave, for he comes in here as a guest:
  So I will give him my head.

    [_EMER begins to keen_]

          Little wife, little wife, be at rest.
  Alive I have been far off in all lands under sun,
  And been no faithful man; but when my story is done
  My fame shall spring up and laugh, and set you high above all.

EMER

    [_Putting her arms about him_]

  It is you, not your fame, that I love.

CUCHULAIN

    [_Tries to put her from him_]

  You are young, you are wise, you can call
  Some kinder and comelier man that will sit at home in the house.

EMER

  Live and be faithless still.

CUCHULAIN

    [_Throwing her from him_]

  Would you stay the great barnacle-goose
  When its eyes are turned to the sea and its beak to the salt of the air?

EMER

    [_Lifting her dagger to stab herself_]

  I, too, on the grey wing's path.

CUCHULAIN

    [_Seizing dagger_]

  Do you dare, do you dare, do you dare?
  Bear children and sweep the house.

    [_Forcing his way through the Servants who gather round_]

         Wail, but keep from the road.

    [_He kneels before RED MAN. There is a pause_]

  Quick to your work, old Radish, you will fade when the cocks have crowed.

    [_A black cat-headed Man holds out the Helmet. The RED MAN takes it_]

RED MAN

  I have not come for your hurt, I'm the Rector of this land,
  And with my spitting cat-heads, my frenzied moon-bred band,
  Age after age I sift it, and choose for its championship
  The man who hits my fancy.

    [_He places the Helmet on CUCHULAIN'S head_]

          And I choose the laughing lip
  That shall not turn from laughing whatever rise or fall,
  The heart that grows no bitterer although betrayed by all;
  The hand that loves to scatter; the life like a gambler's throw;
  And these things I make prosper, till a day come that I know,
  When heart and mind shall darken that the weak may end the strong,
  And the long remembering harpers have matter for their song.


  [Illustration]





