The Complete Works. William Butler Yeats

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The Complete Works - William Butler Yeats

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thought to it;

      No, no, nor half a thought; but do not speak.

      Women are hard and proud and stubborn-hearted,

      Their heads being turned with praise and flattery;

      And that is why their lovers are afraid

      To tell them a plain story.

      Forgael. That’s not the story;

      But I have done so great a wrong against you,

      There is no measure that it would not burst.

      I will confess it all.

      Dectora.What do I care,

      Now that my body has begun to dream,

      And you have grown to be a burning coal

      In the imagination and intellect?

      If something that’s most fabulous were true—

      If you had taken me by magic spells,

      And killed a lover or husband at my feet—

      I would not let you speak, for I would know

      That it was yesterday and not to-day

      I loved him; I would cover up my ears,

      As I am doing now. [A pause.] Why do you weep?

      Forgael. I weep because I’ve nothing for your eyes

      But desolate waters and a battered ship.

      Dectora. O, why do you not lift your eyes to mine?

      Forgael. I weep—I weep because bare night’s above,

      And not a roof of ivory and gold.

      Dectora. I would grow jealous of the ivory roof,

      And strike the golden pillars with my hands.

      I would that there was nothing in the world

      But my beloved—that night and day had perished,

      And all that is and all that is to be,

      All that is not the meeting of our lips.

      Forgael. Why do you turn your eyes upon bare night?

      Am I to fear the waves, or is the moon

      My enemy?

      Dectora. I looked upon the moon,

      Longing to knead and pull it into shape

      That I might lay it on your head as a crown.

      But now it is your thoughts that wander away,

      For you are looking at the sea. Do you not know

      How great a wrong it is to let one’s thought

      Wander a moment when one is in love?

      [He has moved away. She follows him. He is looking out over the sea, shading his eyes.

      Dectora. Why are you looking at the sea?

      Forgael. Look there!

      There where the cloud creeps up upon the moon.

      Dectora. What is there but a troop of ash-grey birds

      That fly into the west?

      [The scene darkens, but there is a ray of light upon the figures.

      Forgael.But listen, listen!

      Dectora. What is there but the crying of the birds?

      Forgael. If you’ll but listen closely to that crying

      You’ll hear them calling out to one another

      With human voices.

      Dectora.Clouds have hid the moon.

      The birds cry out, what can I do but tremble?

      Forgael. They have been circling over our heads in the air,

      But now that they have taken to the road

      We have to follow, for they are our pilots;

      They’re crying out. Can you not hear their cry—

      ‘There is a country at the end of the world

      Where no child’s born but to outlive the moon.’

      [The Sailors come in with AIBRIC. They carry torches.]

      Aibric. We have lit upon a treasure that’s so great

      Imagination cannot reckon it.

      The hold is full—boxes of precious spice,

      Ivory images with amethyst eyes,

      Dragons with eyes of ruby. The whole ship

      Flashes as if it were a net of herrings.

      Let us return to our own country, Forgael,

      And spend it there. Have you not found this queen?

      What more have you to look for on the seas?

      Forgael. I cannot—I am going on to the end.

      As for this woman, I think she is coming with me.

      Aibric. Speak to him, lady, and bid him turn the ship.

      He knows that he is taking you to death;

      He cannot contradict me.

      Dectora.Is that true?

      Forgael. I do not know for certain.

      Dectora.Carry me

      To some sure country, some familiar place.

      Have we not everything that life can give

      In having one another?

      Forgael. How could I rest

      If I refused the messengers and pilots

      With all those sights and all that crying out?

      Dectora.

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