The Unicorn from the Stars and Other Plays — John Shaqi
The Unicorn from the Stars and Other PlaysYeats, W. B. (William Butler)
General
The Unicorn from the Stars and Other Plays
Yeats, W. B. (William Butler)
Ireland -- Drama; Irish drama
NANNY. I partly guessed death was near him, and the queer shining look
he had in his two eyes, and he throwing sparks east and west through
the beams. I wonder now was it some inward wound he got, or did some
hardy lad of the Browns give him a tip on the skull unknownst in the
fight? It was I myself found him, and the troop of the Whiteboys gone,
and he lying by the side of a wall as weak as if he had knocked a
mountain. I failed to waken him, trying him with the sharpness of my
nails, and his head fell back when I moved it, and I knew him to be
spent and gone.
BIDDY. It's a pity you not to have left him where he was lying, and
said no word at all to Paudeen or to that son you have, that kept us
back from following on, bringing him here to this shelter on sacks and
upon poles.
NANNY. What way could I help letting a screech out of myself and the
life but just gone out of him in the darkness, and not a living
Christian by his side but myself and the great God?
BIDDY. It's on ourselves the vengeance of the red soldiers will fall,
they to find us sitting here the same as hares in a tuft. It would be
best for us follow after the rest of the army of the Whiteboys.
NANNY. Whist, I tell you! The lads are cracked about him. To get but
the wind of the word of leaving him, it's little but they'd knock the
head off the two of us. Whist!
[_Enter_ JOHNNY B. _with candles._]
JOHNNY B. [_standing over_ MARTIN]. Wouldn't you say now there was some
malice or some venom in the air, that is striking down one after the
other the whole of the heroes of the Gael?
PAUDEEN. It makes a person be thinking of the four last ends, death and
judgment, heaven and hell. Indeed and indeed my heart lies with him. It
is well I knew what man he was under his by-name and his disguise.
[_Sings._]
Oh, Johnny Gibbons, it's you were the prop to us!
You to have left us we are put astray!
JOHNNY B. It is lost we are now and broken to the end of our days.
There is no satisfaction at all but to be destroying the English; and
where now will we get so good a leader again? Lay him out fair and
straight upon a stone, till I will let loose the secret of my heart
keening him! [_Sets out candles on a rack, propping them with stones._]
NANNY. Is it mould candles you have brought to set around him, Johnny
Bacach? It is great riches you should have in your pocket to be going
to those lengths and not to be content with dips.
JOHNNY B. It is lengths I will not be going to the time the life will
be gone out of your own body. It is not your corpse I will be wishful
to hold in honour the way I hold this corpse in honour.
NANNY. That's the way always: there will be grief and quietness in the
house if it is a young person has died, but funning and springing and
tricking one another if it is an old person's corpse is in it. There is
no compassion at all for the old.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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