MAN takes them and goes.
SECOND MERCHANT.
Come, deal—one would half think you had no souls.
If only for the credit of your parishes,
Come, deal, deal, deal, or will you always starve?
Maire, the wife of Shemus, would not deal,
She starved—she lies in there with red wallflowers,
And candles stuck in bottles round her bed.
A WOMAN.
What price, now, will you give for mine?
FIRST MERCHANT.
Ay, ay,
Soft, handsome, and still young—not much, I think.
[Reading in the parchment.
She has love letters in a little jar
On the high shelf between the pepper-pot
And wood-cased hour-glass.
THE WOMAN.
O, the scandalous parchment!
FIRST MERCHANT [reading].
She hides them from her husband, who buys horses,
And is not much at home. You are almost safe.
I give you fifty crowns.[She turns to go.
A hundred, then.
[She takes them, and goes into the crowd.
Come—deal, deal, deal; it is for charity
We buy such souls at all; a thousand sins
Made them our master’s long before we came.
Come, deal—come, deal. You seem resolved to starve
Until your bones show through your skin. Come, deal,
Or live on nettles, grass, and dandelion.
Or do you dream the famine will go by?
The famine is hale and hearty; it is mine
And my great master’s; it shall no wise cease
Until our purpose end: the yellow vapour
That brought it bears it over your dried fields
And fills with violent phantoms of the lost,
And grows more deadly as day copies day.
See how it dims the daylight. Is that peace
Known to the birds of prey so dread a thing?
They, and the souls obedient to our master,
And those who live with that great other spirit
Have gained an end, a peace, while you but toss
And swing upon a moving balance beam.
[ALEEL enters; the wires of his harp are broken.
ALEEL.
Here, take my soul, for I am tired of it;
I do not ask a price.
FIRST MERCHANT [reading].
A man of songs:
Alone in the hushed passion of romance,
His mind ran all on sidheoges and on tales
Of Fenian labours and the Red Branch kings,
And he cared nothing for the life of man:
But now all changes.
ALEEL.
Ay, because her face,
The face of Countess Cathleen, dwells with me:
The sadness of the world upon her brow:
The crying of these strings grew burdensome,
Therefore I tore them; see; now take my soul.
FIRST MERCHANT.
We cannot take your soul, for it is hers.
ALEEL.
Ah, take it; take it. It nowise can help her,
And, therefore, do I tire of it.
FIRST MERCHANT.
No; no.
We may not touch it.
ALEEL.
Is your power so small,
Must I then bear it with me all my days?
May scorn close deep about you!
FIRST MERCHANT.
Lead him hence;
He troubles me.
[TEIG and SHEMUS lead ALEEL into the crowd.
SECOND MERCHANT.
His gaze has filled me, brother,
With shaking and a dreadful fear.
FIRST MERCHANT.
Lean forward
And kiss the circlet where my master’s lips
Were pressed upon it when he sent us hither:
You will have peace once more.
[The SECOND MERCHANT kisses the gold circlet that is about the head of the FIRST MERCHANT.
SHEMUS.
He is called Aleel,
And has been crazy now these many days;
But has no harm in him: his fits soon pass,
And one can go and lead him like a child.
FIRST MERCHANT.
Come, deal, deal, deal, deal, deal; you are all dumb?
SHEMUS.
They say you beat the woman
