MAURYA, an old woman
BARTLEY, her son
CATHLEEN, her daughter
NORA, a younger daughter
MEN AND WOMEN
SCENE: _An island off the West of Ireland. Cottage kitchen, with
nets, oilskins, spinning-wheel, some new boards standing by the
wall, etc._ CATHLEEN, _a girl of about twenty, finishes kneading
cake, and puts it down in the pot-oven by the fire; then wipes
her hands, and begins to spin at the wheel._ NORA, _a young girl,
puts her head in at the door._
NORA (_in a low voice_). Where is she?
CATHLEEN. She's lying down, God help her, and maybe sleeping, if
she's able.
(NORA _comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl._)
CATHLEEN (_spinning the wheel rapidly_). What is it you have?
NOBA. The young priest is after bringing them. It's a shirt and a
plain stocking were got off a drowned man in Donegal.
(CATHLEEN _stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out
to listen._)
NORA. We're to find out if it's Michael's they are; some time
herself will be down looking by the sea.
CATHLEEN. How would they be Michael's, Nora? How would he go the
length of that way to the far north?
NORA. The young priest says he's known the like of it. "If it's
Michael's they are," says he, "you can tell herself he's got a
clean burial by the grace of God, and if they're not his, let no
one say a word about them, for she'll be getting her death," says
he, "with crying and lamenting."
(_The door which_ NORA _half closed is blown open by a gust of
wind._)
CATHLEEN (_looking out anxiously_). Did you ask him would he stop
Bartley going this day with the horses to the Galway fair?
NORA. "I won't stop him," says he, "but let you not be afraid.
Herself does be saying prayers half through the night, and the
Almighty God won't leave her destitute," says he, "with no son
living."
CATHLEEN. Is the sea bad by the white rocks, Nora?
NORA. Middling bad, God help us. There's a great roaring in the
west, and it's worse it'll be getting when the tide's turned to
the wind.
(_She goes over to the table with the bundle._)
Shall I open it now?
CATHLEEN. Maybe she'd wake up on us, and come in before we'd
done. (_Coming to the table_) It's a long time we'll be, and the
two of us crying.
NORA (_goes to the inner door and listens_). She's moving about on
the bed. She'll be coming in a minute.
CATHLEEN. Give me the ladder, and I'll put them up in the
turf-loft, the way she won't know of them at all, and maybe when
the tide turns she'll be going down to see would he be floating
from the east.
(_They put the ladder against the gable of the chimney_; CATHLEEN
_goes up a few steps and hides the bundle in the turf-loft. MAURYA
comes from the inner room._)
MAURYA (_looking up at CATHLEEN and speaking querulously_). Isn't
it turf enough you have for this day and evening?
CATHLEEN. There's a cake baking at the fire for a short space
(_throwing down the turf_) and Bartley will want it when the tide
turns if he goes to Connemara.
(NORA _picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven._)
MAURYA (_sitting down on a stool at the fire_). He won't go this
day with the wind rising from the south and west. He won't go
this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.
NORA. He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and
Stephen Pheety and Colum Shawn saying he would go.
MAURYA. Where is he itself?
NORA. He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in
the week, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now,
for the tide's turning at the green head, and the hooker's
tacking from the east.
CATHLEEN. I hear someone passing the big stones.
NORA (_looking out_). He's coming now, and he in a hurry.
BARTLEY (_comes in and looks round the room; speaking sadly and
quietly_). Where is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in
Connemara?
CATHLEEN (_coming down_). Give it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by
the white boards. I hung it up this morning, for the pig with the
black feet was eating it.
NORA (_giving him a rope_). Is that it, Bartley?
MAURYA. You'd do right to leave that rope, Bartley, hanging by
the boards. (BARTLEY _takes the rope._) It will be wanting in this
place, I'm telling you, if Michael is washed up to-morrow
morning, or the next morning, or any morning in the week, for
it's a deep grave we'll make him by the grace of God.
BARTLEY (_beginning to work with the rope_). I've no halter the way
I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now quickly. This is
the one boat going for two weeks or beyond it, and the fair will
be a good fair for horses, I heard them saying below.
MAURYA. It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is
washed up and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I
after giving a big price for the finest white boards you'd find
in Connemara.
(_She looks round at the boards._)
BARTLEY. How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day
for nine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the
west and south?
MAURYA. If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea,
and there was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the
night. If it was a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had
itself, what is the price of a thousand horses against a son
where there is one son only?
BARTLEY (_working at the halter, to_ CATHLEEN). Let you go down
each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the rye, and if
the jobber comes you can sell the pig with the black feet if
there is a good price going.
MAURYA. How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?
BARTLEY (_to_ CATHLEEN). If the west wind holds with the last bit
of the moon let you and Nora get up weed enough for another cock
for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be from this day with no one in
it but one man to work.
MAURYA. It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drownd'd
with the rest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I
an old woman looking for the grave?
(BARTLEY _lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts
on a newer one of the same flannel._)
BARTLEY (_to_ NORA). Is she coming to the pier?
NORA (_looking out_). She's passing the green head and letting fall
her sails.
BARTLEY (_getting his purse and tobacco_). I'll have half an hour
to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two days, or in
three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.
MAURYA (_turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her
head_). Isn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an
old woman, and she holding him from the sea?
CATHLEEN. It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea,
and who would listen to an old woman with one thing and she
saying it over?
BARTLEY (_taking the halter_). I must go now quickly. I'll ride
down on the red mare, and the gray pony'll run behind me. The
blessing of God on you.
(_He goes out._)
MAURYA (_crying out as he is in the door_). He's gone now, God
spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone now, and when
the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the world.
CATHLEEN. Why wouldn't you give him your blessing and he looking
round in the door? Isn't it sorrow enough is on everyone in this
house without your sending him out with an unlucky word behind
him, and a hard word in his ear?
(MAURYA _takes up the tongs and begins raking the fire aimlessly
without looking round._)
NORA (_turning towards her_). You're taking away the turf from the
cake.
CATHLEEN (_crying out_). The Son of God forgive us, Nora, we're
after forgetting his bit of bread.
(_She comes over to the fire._)
NORA. And it's destroyed he'll be going till dark night, and he
after eating nothing since the sun went up.
CATHLEEN (_turning the cake out of the oven_). It's destroyed he'll
be, surely. There's no sense left on any person in a house where
an old woman will be talking for ever.
(MAURYA _sways herself on her stool._)
CATHLEEN (_cutting off some of the bread and rolling it in a
cloth, to_ MAURYA). Let you go down now to the spring well and
give him this and he passing. You'll see him then and the dark
word will be broken, and you can say, "God speed you," the way
he'll be easy in his mind.
MAURYA (_taking the bread_). Will I be in it as soon as himself?
CATHLEEN. If you go now quickly.
MAURYA (_standing up unsteadily_). It's hard set I am to walk.
CATHLEEN (_looking at her anxiously_). Give her the stick, Nora, or
maybe she'll slip on the big stones.
NORA. What stick?
CATHLEEN. The stick Michael brought from Connemara.
MAURYA (_taking a stick NORA gives her_). In the big world the old
people do be leaving things after them for their sons and
children, but in this place it is the young men do be leaving
things behind for them that do be old.
(_She goes out slowly. NORA goes over to the ladder._)
CATHLEEN. Wait, Nora, maybe she'd turn back quickly. She's that
sorry, God help her, you wouldn't know the thing she'd do.
NORA. Is she gone round by the bush?
CATHLEEN (_looking out_). She's gone now. Throw it down quickly,
for the Lord knows when she'll be out of it again.
NORA (_getting the bundle from the loft_). The young priest said
he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down and speak to him
below if it's Michael's they are surely.
CATHLEEN (_taking the bundle_). Did he say what way they were
found?
NORA (_coming down_). "There were two men," says he, "and they
rowing round with poteen before the cocks crowed, and the oar of
one of them caught the body, and they passing the black cliffs of
the north."
CATHLEEN (_trying to open the bundle_). Give me a knife, Nora; the
string's perished with the salt water, and there's a black knot
on it you wouldn't loosen in a week.
NORA (_giving her a knife_). I've heard tell it was a long way to
Donegal.
CATHLEEN (_cutting the string_). It is surely. There was a man in
here a while ago--the man sold us that knife--and he said if you
set off walking from the rocks beyond, it would be seven days
you'd be in Donegal.
NORA. And what time would a man take, and he floating?
(CATHLEEN _opens the bundle and takes out a bit of a stocking.
They look at them eagerly._)
CATHLEEN (_in a low voice_). The Lord spare us, Nora! Isn't it a
queer hard thing to say if it's his they are surely?
NORA. I'll get his shirt off the hook the way we can put the one
flannel on the other. (_She looks through some clothes hanging in
the corner_) It's not with them, Cathleen, and where will it be?
CATHLEEN. I'm thinking Bartley put it on him in the morning, for
his own shirt was heavy with the salt in it. (_Pointing to the
corner_) There's a bit of a sleeve was of the same stuff. Give me
that and it will do.
(NORA _brings it to her and they compare the flannel._)
CATHLEEN. It's the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself, aren't
there great rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many
another man may have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?
NORA (_who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches,
crying out_) It's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his
soul and what will herself say when she hears this story, and
Bartley on the sea?
CATHLEEN (_taking the stocking_). It's a plain stocking.
NORA. It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put
up three score stitches, and I dropped four of them.
CATHLEEN (_counts the stitches_). It's that number is in it.
(_Crying out_) Ah, Nora, isn't it a bitter thing to think of him
floating that way to the far north, and no one to keen him but
the black hags that do be flying on the sea?
NORA (_swinging herself round, and throwing out her arms on the
clothes_). And isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left
of a man who was a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old
shirt and a plain stocking?
CATHLEEN (_after an instant_). Tell me is herself coming, Nora? I
hear a little sound on the path.
NORA (_looking out_). She is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the
door.
CATHLEEN. Put these things away before she'll come in. Maybe it's
easier she'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we
won't let on we've heard anything the time he's on the sea.
NORA (_helping CATHLEEN to close the bundle_). We'll put them here
in the corner.
(_They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. CATHLEEN goes
back to the spinning wheel._)
NORA. Will she see it was crying I was?
CATHLEEN. Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not be
on you.
(NORA _sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door._
MAURYA _comes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and
goes over to her stool at the other side of the fire. The cloth
with the bread is still in her hand. The girls look at each
other, and_ NORA _points to the bundle of bread._)
CATHLEEN (_offer spinning for a moment_), You didn't give him his
bit of bread?
(MAURYA _begins to keen softly, without turning round._)
CATHLEEN. Did you see him riding down?
(MAURYA _goes on keening._)
CATHLEEN (_a little impatiently_). God forgive you; isn't it a
better thing to raise your voice and tell what you seen, than to
be making lamentation for a thing that's done? Did you see
Bartley, I'm saying to you.
MAURYA (_with a weak voice_). My heart's broken from this day.
CATHLEEN (_as before_). Did you see Bartley?
MAURYA. I seen the fearfulest thing.
CATHLEEN (_leaves her wheel and looks out_). God forgive you; he's
riding the mare now over the green head, and the gray pony behind
him.
MAURYA (_starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and
shows her white tossed hair; with a frightened voice_). The gray
pony behind him.
CATHLEEN (_coming to the fire_). What is it ails you, at all?
MAURYA (_speaking very slowly_). I've seen the fearfulest thing any
person has seen, since the day Bride Dara seen the dead man with
the child in his arms.
CATHLEEN AND NORA. Uah.
(_They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire._)
NORA. Tell us what it is you seen.
MAURYA. I went down to the spring-well, and I stood there saying
a prayer to myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the
red mare with the gray pony behind him. (_She puts up her hands,
as if to hide something from her eyes._) The Son of God spare us,
Nora!
CATHLEEN. What is it you seen?
MAURYA. I seen Michael himself.
CATHLEEN (_speaking softly_). You did not, mother; it wasn't
Michael you seen, for his body is after being found in the far
north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace of God.
MAURYA (_a little defiantly_). I'm after seeing him this day, and
he riding and galloping. Bartley came first on the red mare; and
I tried to say "God speed you," but something choked the words in
my throat. He went by quickly; and, "The blessing of God on you,"
says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and I crying,
at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine
clothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.
CATHLEEN (_begins to keen_). It's destroyed we are from this day.
It's destroyed, surely.
NORA. Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave
her destitute with no son living?
MAUKYA (_in a low voice, but clearly_). It's little the like of him
knows of the sea.... Bartley will be lost now, and let you call
in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of the white boards, for I
won't live after them. I've had a husband, and a husband's
father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though it was a
hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the
world--and some of them were found and some of them were not
found, but they're gone now, the lot of them.... There were
Stephen, and Shawn, were lost in the great wind, and found after
in the Bay of Gregory of the Golden Mouth, and carried up the two
of them on the one plank, and in by that door.
(_She pauses for a moment, the girls start as if they heard
something through the door that is half-open behind them._)
NORA (_in a whisper_). Did you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a
noise in the northeast?
CATHLEEN (_in a whisper_). There's someone after crying out by the
seashore.
MAURYA (_continues without hearing anything_). There was Sheamus
and his father, and his own father again, were lost in a dark
night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went
up. There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned
over. I was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my
two knees, and I seen two women, and three women, and four women
coming in, and they crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I
looked out then, and there were men coming after them, and they
holding a thing in the half of a red sail, and water dripping out
of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and leaving a track to the door.
(_She pauses again with her hand stretched out towards the door.
It opens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing
themselves on the threshold, and kneeling down in front of the
stage with red petticoats over their heads._)
MAURYA (_half in a dream, to Cathleen_). Is it Patch, or Michael,
or what is it at all?
CATHLEEN. Michael is after being found in the far north, and when
he is found there how could he be here in this place?
MAURYA. There does be a power of young men floating round in the
sea, and what way would they know if it was Michael they had, or
another man like him, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and
the wind blowing, it's hard set his own mother would be to say
what man was it.
CATHLEEN. It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending
us a bit of his clothes from the far north.
(_She reaches out and hands MAURYA the clothes that belonged to_
MICHAEL. MAURYA _stands up slowly, and takes them in her hands._
NORA _looks out._)
NORA. They're carrying a thing among them and there's water
dripping out of it and leaving a track by the big stones.
CATHLEEN (_in a whisper to the women who have come in_). Is it
Bartley it is?
ONE OF THE WOMEN. It is surely, God rest his soul.
(_Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry
in the body of_ BARTLEY, _laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail
over it, and lay it on the table._)
CATHLEEN (_to the women, as they are doing so_). What way was he
drowned?
ONE OF THE WOMEN. The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he
was washed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.
(MAURYA _has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table.
The women are keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow
movement._ CATHLEEN _and_ NORA _kneel at the other end of the table.
The men kneel near the door._)
MAURYA (_raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the
people around her_). They're all gone now, and there isn't
anything more the sea can do to me.... I'll have no call now to
be up crying and praying when the wind breaks from the south, and
you can hear the surf is in the east, and the surf is in the
west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they hitting
one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and
getting Holy Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't
care what way the sea is when the other women will be keening.
(_To_ NORA) Give me the Holy Water, Nora; there's a small sup still
on the dresser.
(NORA _gives it to her._)
MAURYA (_drops_ MICHAEL'S _clothes across_ BARTLEY'S _feet, and
sprinkles the Holy Water over him_). It isn't that I haven't
prayed for you, BARTLEY, to the Almighty God. It isn't that I
haven't said prayers in the dark night till you wouldn't know
what I'd be saying; but it's a great rest I'll have now, and it's
time surely. It's a great rest I'll have now, and great sleeping
in the long nights after Samhain, if it's only a bit of wet flour
we do have to eat, and maybe a fish that would be stinking.
(_She kneels down again, crossing herself, and saying prayers
under her breath._)
CATHLEEN (_to an old man_). Maybe yourself and Eamon would make a
coffin when the sun rises. We have fine white boards herself
bought, God help her, thinking Michael would be found, and I have
a new cake you can eat while you'll be working.
THE OLD MAN (_looking at the boards_). Are there nails with them?
CATHLEEN. There are not, Colum; we didn't think of the nails.
ANOTHER MAN. It's a great wonder she wouldn't think of the nails,
and all the coffins she's seen made already.
CATHLEEN. It's getting old she is, and broken.
(MAURYA _stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of_
MICHAEL'S _clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last
of the Holy Water._)
NORA (_in a whisper to_ CATHLEEN). She's quiet now and easy; but
the day Michael was drowned you could hear her crying out from
this to the spring-well. It's fonder she was of Michael, and
would anyone have thought that?
CATHLEEN (_slowly and clearly_). An old woman will be soon tired
with anything she will do, and isn't it nine days herself is
after crying and keening, and making great sorrow in the house?
MAURYA (_puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays
her hands together on_ BARTLEY'S _feet_). They're all together this
time, and the end is come. May the Almighty God have mercy on
Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the souls of
Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (_bending her head_); and
may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of everyone
is left living in the world.
(_She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the
women, then sinks away._)
MAURYA (_continuing_). Michael has a clean burial in the far north,
by the grace of the Almighty God. Bartley will have a fine coffin
out of the white boards, and a deep grave surely. What more can
we want than that? No man at all can be living for ever, and we
must be satisfied.
(_She kneels down again, and the curtain falls slowly_).