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The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 4 of 8. The Hour-glass. Cathleen ni Houlihan. The Golden Helmet. The Irish Dramatic Movement
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Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart. When the people see me quiet, they think old age has come on me and that all the stir has gone out of me. But when the trouble is on me I must be talking to my friends.
BRIDGET
What was it put you wandering?
OLD WOMAN
Too many strangers in the house.
BRIDGET
Indeed you look as if you’d had your share of trouble.
OLD WOMAN
I have had trouble indeed.
BRIDGET
What was it put the trouble on you?
OLD WOMAN
My land that was taken from me.
PETER
Was it much land they took from you?
OLD WOMAN
My four beautiful green fields.
PETER [aside to BRIDGET]
Do you think could she be the widow Casey that was put out of her holding at Kilglass a while ago?
BRIDGET
She is not. I saw the widow Casey one time at the market in Ballina, a stout fresh woman.
PETER [to OLD WOMAN]
Did you hear a noise of cheering, and you coming up the hill?
OLD WOMAN
I thought I heard the noise I used to hear when my friends came to visit me.
[She begins singing half to herself.
I will go cry with the woman,
For yellow-haired Donough is dead,
With a hempen rope for a neckcloth,
And a white cloth on his head, —
MICHAEL [coming from the door]
What is that you are singing, ma’am?
OLD WOMAN
Singing I am about a man I knew one time, yellow-haired Donough that was hanged in Galway.
[She goes on singing, much louder.
I am come to cry with you, woman,
My hair is unwound and unbound;
I remember him ploughing his field,
Turning up the red side of the ground,
And building his barn on the hill
With the good mortared stone;
O! we’d have pulled down the gallows
Had it happened in Enniscrone!
MICHAEL
What was it brought him to his death?
OLD WOMAN
He died for love of me: many a man has died for love of me.
PETER [aside to BRIDGET]
Her trouble has put her wits astray.
MICHAEL
Is it long since that song was made? Is it long since he got his death?
OLD WOMAN
Not long, not long. But there were others that died for love of me a long time ago.
MICHAEL
Were they neighbours of your own, ma’am?
BRIDGET
What was it put you wandering?
OLD WOMAN
Too many strangers in the house.
BRIDGET
Indeed you look as if you’d had your share of trouble.
OLD WOMAN
I have had trouble indeed.
BRIDGET
What was it put the trouble on you?
OLD WOMAN
My land that was taken from me.
PETER
Was it much land they took from you?
OLD WOMAN
My four beautiful green fields.
PETER [aside to BRIDGET]
Do you think could she be the widow Casey that was put out of her holding at Kilglass a while ago?
BRIDGET
She is not. I saw the widow Casey one time at the market in Ballina, a stout fresh woman.
PETER [to OLD WOMAN]
Did you hear a noise of cheering, and you coming up the hill?
OLD WOMAN
I thought I heard the noise I used to hear when my friends came to visit me.
[She begins singing half to herself.
I will go cry with the woman,
For yellow-haired Donough is dead,
With a hempen rope for a neckcloth,
And a white cloth on his head, —
MICHAEL [coming from the door]
What is that you are singing, ma’am?
OLD WOMAN
Singing I am about a man I knew one time, yellow-haired Donough that was hanged in Galway.
[She goes on singing, much louder.
I am come to cry with you, woman,
My hair is unwound and unbound;
I remember him ploughing his field,
Turning up the red side of the ground,
And building his barn on the hill
With the good mortared stone;
O! we’d have pulled down the gallows
Had it happened in Enniscrone!
MICHAEL
What was it brought him to his death?
OLD WOMAN
He died for love of me: many a man has died for love of me.
PETER [aside to BRIDGET]
Her trouble has put her wits astray.
MICHAEL
Is it long since that song was made? Is it long since he got his death?
OLD WOMAN
Not long, not long. But there were others that died for love of me a long time ago.
MICHAEL
Were they neighbours of your own, ma’am?
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