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The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 2 of 8
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Why have you broken our sleep?
FIRST VOICE
Armed men have come upon us! O, I am slain!
FORGAEL
[Who has remained at the tiller.]
There! there they come! Gull, gannet, or diver,
But with a man’s head, or a fair woman’s,
They hover over the masthead awhile
To wait their friends; but when their friends have come
They’ll fly upon that secret way of theirs.
One – and one – a couple – five together;
And I will hear them talking in a minute.
Yes, voices! but I do not catch the words.
Now I can hear. There’s one of them that says:
‘How light we are, now we are changed to birds!’
Another answers: ‘Maybe we shall find
Our heart’s desire now that we are so light.’
And then one asks another how he died,
And says: ‘A sword-blade pierced me in my sleep.’
And now they all wheel suddenly and fly
To the other side, and higher in the air.
And now a laggard with a woman’s head
Comes crying, ‘I have run upon the sword.
I have fled to my beloved in the air,
In the waste of the high air, that we may wander
Among the windy meadows of the dawn.’
But why are they still waiting? why are they
Circling and circling over the masthead?
What power that is more mighty than desire
To hurry to their hidden happiness
Withholds them now? Have the ever-living ones
A meaning in that circling overhead?
But what’s the meaning? [He cries out.] Why do you linger there?
Why do you not run to your desire,
Now that you have happy winged bodies?
[His voice sinks again.
Being too busy in the air and the high air,
They cannot hear my voice; but what’s the meaning?
[The SAILORS have returned. DECTORA is with them. She is dressed in pale green, with copper ornaments on her dress, and has a copper crown upon her head. Her hair is dull red
FORGAEL
[Turning and seeing her.]
Why are you standing with your eyes upon me?
You are not the world’s core. O no, no, no!
That cannot be the meaning of the birds.
You are not its core. My teeth are in the world,
But have not bitten yet.
DECTORA
I am a queen,
And ask for satisfaction upon these
Who have slain my husband and laid hands upon me.
[Breaking loose from the SAILORS who are holding her.]
Let go my hands!
FORGAEL
Why do you cast a shadow?
Where do you come from? Who brought you to this place?
They would not send me one that casts a shadow.
DECTORA
Would that the storm that overthrew my ships,
And drowned the treasures of nine conquered nations,
And blew me hither to my lasting sorrow,
Had drowned me also. But, being yet alive,
I ask a fitting punishment for all
That raised their hands against him.
FORGAEL
There are some
That weigh and measure all in these waste seas —
They that have all the wisdom that’s in life,
And all that prophesying images
Made of dim gold rave out in secret tombs;
They have it that the plans of kings and queens
Are dust on the moth’s wing; that nothing matters
But laughter and tears – laughter, laughter, and tears;
That every man should carry his own soul
Upon his shoulders.
DECTORA
You’ve nothing but wild words,
And I would know if you will give me vengeance.
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