The Green Helmet and Other PoemsYeats, W. B. (William Butler)
General
The Green Helmet and Other Poems
Yeats, W. B. (William Butler)
English poetry -- Irish authors
[_Kneeling in the door so as to keep the others out who pull at
her_]
But what did he fight with there
But sidelong and spitting and helpless shadows of the dim air?
And what did he carry away but straw and broken delf?
LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
Your own man made up that tale trembling alone by himself,
Drowning his terror.
EMER
[_Forcing herself in front_]
I am Emer, it is I go first through the door.
No one shall walk before me, or praise any man before
My man has been praised.
CUCHULAIN
[_Spreading his arms across the door so as to close it_]
Come, put an end to their quarrelling:
One is as fair as the other, and each one the wife of a king.
Break down the painted boards between the sill and the floor
That they come in together, each one at her own door.
[_LAEGAIRE and CONALL begin to break out the bottoms of the windows,
then their wives go to the windows, each to the window where her
husband is. EMER stands at the door and sings while the boards are
being broken out_]
EMER
Nothing that he has done,
His mind that is fire,
His body that is sun,
Have set my head higher
Than all the world's wives.
Himself on the wind
Is the gift that he gives,
Therefore womenkind,
When their eyes have met mine,
Grow cold and grow hot,
Troubled as with wine
By a secret thought,
Preyed upon, fed upon
By jealousy and desire.
I am moon to that sun,
I am steel to that fire,
[_The windows are now broken down to floor. CUCHULAIN takes his
spear from the door, and the three Women come in at the same
moment_]
EMER
Cuchulain, put off this sloth and awake:
I will sing till I've stiffened your lip against every knave that would
take
A share of your honour.
LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
You lie, for your man would take from my man.
CONALL'S WIFE
[_To LAEGAIRE'S WIFE_]
You say that, you double-face, and your own husband began.
CUCHULAIN
[_Taking up Helmet from table_]
Town land may rail at town land till all have gone to wrack,
The very straws may wrangle till they've thrown down the stack;
The very door-posts bicker till they've pulled in the door,
The very ale-jars jostle till the ale is on the floor,
But this shall help no further.
[_He throws Helmet into the sea_]
LAEGAIRE'S WIFE
It was not for your head,
And so you would let none wear it, but fling it away instead.
CONALL'S WIFE
But you shall answer for it, for you've robbed my man by this.
CONALL
You have robbed us both, Cuchulain.
LAEGAIRE
The greatest wrong there is
On the wide ridge of the world has been done to us two this day.
EMER
[_Drawing her dagger_]
Who is for Cuchulain?
CUCHULAIN
Silence!
EMER
Who is for Cuchulain, I say?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account