But no, not yet, For there's a work I have to set you to.

SHEMUS. So then you're as deceitful as the rest, And all that talk of buying what's but a vapour Is fancy bred. I might have known as much, Because that's how the trick-o'-the-loop man talks.

FIRST MERCHANT. That's for the work, each has its separate price; But neither price is paid till the work's done.

TEIG. The same for me.

MARY. Oh, G.o.d, why are you still?

FIRST MERCHANT. You've but to cry aloud at every cross-road, At every house door, that we buy men's souls, And give so good a price that all may live In mirth and comfort till the famine's done, Because we are Christian men.

SHEMUS. Come, let's away.

TREIG> I shall keep running till I've earned the price.

SECOND MERCHANT. (who has risen and gone towards fire) Stop, for we obey a generous Master, That would be served by Comfortable men.

And here's your entertainment on the road.

(TRIG and SHEMUS have stopped. TEIG takes the money. They go out.)

MARY. Destroyers of souls, G.o.d will destroy you quickly.

You shall at last dry like dry leaves and hang Nailed like dead vermin to the doors of G.o.d.

SECOND MERCHANT.

Curse to your fill, for saints will have their dreams.

FIRST MERCHANTm Though we're but vermin that our Master sent To overrun the world, he at the end Shall pull apart the pale ribs of the moon And quench the stars in the ancestral night.

MARY. G.o.d is all powerful.

SECOND MERCHANT. Pray, you shall need Him.

You shall eat dock and gra.s.s, and dandelion, Till that low threshold there becomes a wall, And when your hands can scarcely drag your body We shall be near you.

(MARY faints.) (The FIRST MERCHANT takes up the carPet, spreads it before the fire and stands in front of it warming his hands.)

FIRST MERCHANT. Our faces go unscratched, For she has fainted. Wring the neck o' that fowl, Scatter the flour and search the shelves for bread.

We'll turn the fowl upon the spit and roast it, And eat the supper we were bidden to, Now that the house is quiet, praise our master, And stretch and warm our heels among the ashes.

END OF SCENE 1

SCENE 2

FRONT SCENE.--A wood with perhaps distant view of turreted house at one side, but all in flat colour, without light and shade and against a diafiered or gold background.

COUNTESS CATHLEEN comes in leaning Upon ALEEL's arm. OONA follows them.

CATHLEEN. (Stopping) Surely this leafy corner, where one smells The wild bee's honey, has a story too?

OONA. There is the house at last.

ALEEL. A man, they say, Loved Maeve the Queen of all the invisible host, And died of his love nine centuries ago.

And now, when the moon's riding at the full, She leaves her dancers lonely and lies there Upon that level place, and for three days Stretches and sighs and wets her long pale cheeks.

CATHLEEN. So she loves truly.

ALEEL. No, but wets her cheeks, Lady, because she has forgot his name.

CATHLEEN. She'd sleep that trouble away--though it must be A heavy trouble to forget his name-- If she had better sense.

OONA. Your own house, lady.

ALEEL. She sleeps high up on wintry Knock-na-rea In an old cairn of stones; while her poor women Must lie and jog in the wave if they would sleep Being water born--yet if she cry their names They run up on the land and dance in the moon Till they are giddy and would love as men do, And be as patient and as pitiful.

But there is nothing that will stop in their heads, They've such poor memories, though they weep for it.

Oh, yes, they weep; that's when the moon is full.

CATHLEEN. is it because they have short memories They live so long?

ALEEL. What's memory but the ash That chokes our fires that have begun to sink?

And they've a dizzy, everlasting fire.

OONA. There is your own house, lady.

CATHLEEN. Why, that's true, And we'd have pa.s.sed it without noticing.

ALEEL. A curse upon it for a meddlesome house!

Had it but stayed away I would have known What Queen Maeve thinks on when the moon is pinched; And whether now--as in the old days--the dancers Set their brief love on men.

OONA. Rest on my arm.

These are no thoughts for any Christian ear.

ALEEL. I am younger, she would be too heavy for you.

(He begins taking his lute out of the bag, CATHLEEN, Who has turned towards OONA, turns back to him.)

This hollow box remembers every foot That danced upon the level gra.s.s of the world, And will tell secrets if I whisper to it.

(Sings.) Lift up the white knee; That's what they sing, Those young dancers That in a ring Raved but now Of the hearts that break Long, long ago For their sake.

OONA. New friends are sweet.

ALEEL. "But the dance changes.

Lift up the gown, All that sorrow Is trodden down."

OONA. The empty rattle-pate! Lean on this arm, That I can tell you is a christened arm, And not like some, if we are to judge by speech.

But as you please. It is time I was forgot.

Maybe it is not on this arm you slumbered When you were as helpless as a worm.