University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

—The rude interior of the cabin of the huntsman, Mánus. He is sitting, clad in deerskin, with strapped sandals, before a fire of pine-logs. Long, unkempt, black hair falls about his face. His wife, Maive, a worn woman with a scared look, stands at the back, plucking feathers from a dead cockerel. At the other side of the hearth, Etain sits.
Mánus
I've seen that man before who came to-night.
[He has addressed no one, and no one answers
I say I have seen that man before.

Maive
Hush Mánus
Beware of what you say. How can we tell
Who comes, who goes? And, too, good man, you've had
Three golden pieces.

Mánus
Aye, they are put by,
That comforts me: for gold is ever gold.

Maive
One was for her who stays with us to-night
And shares our scanty fare.
[Making a curtsey
Right welcome, too:
The other was for any who might come,
Asking for bite or sup, for fireside warmth.
The third....

Mánus
Yes, woman, yes, I know: for silence. Hush!
[A moan of wind is heard
There comes the rain.

Etain
[Rising and going to the left doorway, pulls back the hide. Shuddering, she thrusts it crosswise again, and returns
It was so beautiful,
So still, with not a breath of wind, and now
The hill-wind moans, the night is filled with tears
Of bitter rain. Good people, have you seen
Such quiet eves fall into stormy nights
Before?

Mánus
Who knows the wild way of the wind:
The wild way of the rain? They come, and go:
We stay. We wait. We listen. Not for us
To ask, to wonder.

Maive
They're more great than we.
They are so old, the wind and rain, so old,
They know all things, Grey Feathers and Blind Eyes!

Etain
Who? ... Who? ...

Mánus
... the woman speaks of Wind and Rain:
Blind Eyes, the dreadful one whom none has seen,
Whose voice we hear: Grey Feathers, his pale love,
Who flies before or follows, grey in rains,
Fierce blue in hail, death-white in whirling snows.

Etain
Does any ever come to you by night?
... lost woodlander, stray wayfarer from the hills,
Merchant or warrior from the far-off plains?

Mánus
None.

Maive
We are so far away: so far, I think
Sometimes, we must be close upon the edge
Of the green earth, there where the old tales say
The bramble-bushes and the heather make
A hollow tangle over the abyss.

Etain
But sometimes ... sometimes.... Tell me: have you heard,
By dusk or moonset have you never heard
Sweet voices, delicate music? ... never seen
The passage of the lordly beautiful ones
Men call the Shee?

Mánus
[Rising abruptly
We do not speak of them.

Maive
Hark!

[A stronger blast strikes the house. Mánus throws more logs on the fire
Maive
Hark! a second time I've heard a cry!

[All listen. Suddenly a loud knock is heard. Maive covers her head, and cowers beside the fire, behind Etain, who rises. Mánus seizes a spear, and stands waiting. The heavy knock is repeated
A Voice
Open, good folk!

Mánus
There is no door to ope:
Thrust back the skins from off the post.

[The ox-fell is thrust aside, and Eochaidh enters. He stops at the threshold, staring at Etain
Eochaidh
Good folk,
I give you greeting.
[A pause
Lady, I bow my knee.
[Etain bows slowly in return. Eochaidh comes a few steps forward, stops, and looks fixedly at Etain. He says slowly—
You have great beauty.
[A pause
I have never seen
Beauty so great, so wonderful. In dreams,
In dreams alone such beauty have I seen,
A star above my dusk.

Etain
Sir, I pray you
Draw near the fire. This bitter wind and rain
Must sure have chilled you.

[She points to her vacant three-legged stool. As Eochaidh slowly passes her, Mánus slides his hand over his shoulder and back
Mánus
[With a strange look at Maive
He is not wet. The driving rains have left
No single drop!

Maive
[Piteously
Good sir! brave lord! good sir!
Have pity on us: sir, have pity!
We are poor, and all alone, and have no wile
To save ourselves from great ones, or from those
Who dwell in secret places on the hills
Or wander where they will in shadow clothed.

Mánus
Hush, woman! Name no names: and speak no word
Of them who come unbidden and unknown.
Good, sir, you are most welcome. I am Mánus,
And this poor woman is Maive, my childless wife,
And this is a great lady of the land
Who shelters here to-night. Her name is Etain.

Eochaidh
Tell me, good Mánus: who else is here, or whom
You may expect?

Mánus
No one, fair lord. The wild
Gray stormy seas are doors that shut the world
From us poor island-folk....

Maive
We are alone,
We're all alone, fair sir: there is none here
But whom you see. Gray Feathers and Blind Eyes
Are all we know without.

Eochaidh
Who are these others?

Mánus
The woman speaks, sir, of the Wind and Rain.
These unknown gods are as all gods that are,
And do not love to have their sacred names
Used lightly: so we speak of him who lifts
A ceaseless wing across all lands and seas,
Moaning or glad, and flieth all unseeing
From darkness into darkness, as Blind Eyes:
And her, his lovely bride, for he is deaf and so
Veers this way and that for ever, seeing not
His love who breaks in tears beneath his wings
Or falls in snows before his frosty breath—
Her we name thus, Grey Feathers.

Maive
As for us,
We are poor lonely folk, and mean no wrong.
Sir, sir, if you are of the nameless ones,
The noble nameless ones, do us no ill!

Eochaidh
Good folk, I mean no ill. Nor am I made
Of other clay than yours. I am a man.
Let me have shelter here to-night: to-morrow
I will go hence.

Mánus
You are most welcome, sir.

Eochaidh
And you, fair Etain, is it with your will
That I be sheltered from the wind and rain?

Etain
How could I grudge you that ungrudged to me? [Mánus and Maive withdraw into the background.. The light wanes, as the logs give less flame. Eochaidh speaks in a low, strained voice

Etain, fair beautiful love, at last I know
Why dreams have led me hither. All these years
These eyes like stars have led me: all these years
This love that dwells like moonlight in your face
Has been the wind that moved my idle wave.
Forgive presumptuous words. I mean no ill.
I am a king, and kingly. Ard-Righ, I am,
Ard-Righ of Eiré.

Etain
And your name, fair lord?

Eochaidh
Eochaidh Airemh.

Etain
And I am Etain called,
Daughter of lordly ones, of princely line.
But more I cannot say, for on my mind
A strange forgetful cloud bewilders me,
And I have memory only of those things
Of which I cannot speak, being under bond
To keep the silence of my lordly folk.
How I came here, or to what end, or why
I am left here, I know not.

Eochaidh
Truly, I
[Taking her hand in his
Now know full well.
Etain, dear love, my dreams
Come true. I have seen this dim pale face in dreams
For days and months and years; till at the last
Too great a spell of beauty held my hours.
My kingdom was no more to me than sand,
Or a green palace built of August leaves
Already yellowing, waiting for the wind
To scatter them to north and south and east.
I have forgotten all that men hold dear,
And given my kinghood to the wheeling crows,
The trampling desert hinds, the snarling fox.
I have no thought, no dream, no hope, but this—
[Kissing her upon the brow
To call you love, to take you hence, my Queen—
Queen of my Heart, my Queen, my Dream, my Queen!

Etain
[Looking into his face, with thrownback head
I too, I too, am lifted with the breath
Of a tumultous wind. My lord and king,
I too am lit with fire, which fills my heart,
And lifts it like a flame to burn with thine,
To pass and be at one and flame in thine,
My, lord, my king! My lord, my lord, my king!

Eochaidh
The years, the bitter years of all the world
Are now no more. We have gained that which stands
Above the trampling feet of hurrying years.

[A brief burst of mocking laughter is heard
Eochaidh
[Turning angrily. and looking into the shadowy background where are

Mánus and Maive
Who laughed? What means that laughter?

Mánus
[Sullenly
No one laughed.

Eochaidh
Who laughed? Who laughed?

Maive
Grey Feathers and Blind Eyes.

Etain
[Wearily
None laughed. It was the hooting of an owl.
Dear lord, sit here. I am weary.

[Mánus and Maive withdraw, and lie down. Eochaidh and Etain sit before the smouldering fire. The room darkens. Suddenly Eochaidh leans forward, and whispers
Eochaidh
Etain!
Etain, dear love!

Etain
[Not looking at him, and slowly swaying as she sings

[Darkness, save for the red flame in the heart of the fire.