The Complete Works. William Butler Yeats
Читать онлайн книгу.
because you cannot put me from you.
The mist has covered the heavens, and you and I
Shall be alone for ever. We two—this crown—
I half remember. It has been in my dreams.
Bend lower, O king, that I may crown you with it.
O flower of the branch, O bird among the leaves,
O silver fish that my two hands have taken
Out of the running stream, O morning star,
Trembling in the blue heavens like a white fawn
Upon the misty border of the wood,
Bend lower, that I may cover you with my hair,
For we will gaze upon this world no longer.
[The scene darkens, and the harp once more begins to burn as with a faint fire. FORGAEL is kneeling at DECTORA’S feet.
FORGAEL.
[Gathering DECTORA’S hair about him.]
Beloved, having dragged the net about us,
And knitted mesh to mesh, we grow immortal;
And that old harp awakens of itself
To cry aloud to the grey birds, and dreams,
That have had dreams for father, live in us.
[230]
[231]
APPENDIX I
ACTING VERSION OF
THE SHADOWY WATERS
FORGAEL
AIBRIC
SAILORS
DECTORA
The scene is the same as in the text except that the sail is dull copper colour. The poop rises several feet above the stage, and from the overhanging stern hangs a lanthorn with a greenish light. The sea or sky is represented by a semi-circular cloth of which nothing can be seen except a dark abyss, for the stage is lighted by arc-lights so placed upon a bridge over the proscenium as to throw a perpendicular light upon the stage. The light is dim, and there are deep shadows which waver as if with the passage of clouds over the moon. The persons are dressed in blue and green, and move but little. Some sailors are discovered crouching by the sail. Forgael is asleep and Aibric standing by the tiller on the raised poop.
First Sailor. It is long enough, and too long, Forgael has been bringing us through the waste places of the great sea.
Second Sailor. We did not meet with a ship to make a prey of these eight weeks, or any shore or island to plunder or to harry. It is a hard thing, age to be coming on me, and I not to get the chance of doing a robbery that would enable me to live quiet and honest to the end of my lifetime.
First Sailor. We are out since the new moon. What is worse again, it is the way we are in a ship, the barrels empty and my throat shrivelled with drought, and nothing to quench it but water only.
Forgael [in his sleep]. Yes; there, there; that hair that is the colour of burning.
First Sailor. Listen to him now, calling out in his sleep.
Forgael [in his sleep]. That pale forehead, that hair the colour of burning.
First Sailor. Some crazy dream he is in, and believe me it is no crazier than the thought he has waking. He is not the first that has had the wits drawn out from him through shadows and fantasies.
Second Sailor. That is what ails him. I have been thinking it this good while.
First Sailor. Do you remember that galley we sank at the time of the full moon?
Second Sailor. I do. We were becalmed the same night, and he sat up there playing that old harp of his until the moon had set.
First Sailor. I was sleeping up there by the bulwark, and when I woke in the sound of the harp a change came over my eyes, and I could see very strange things. The dead were floating upon the sea yet, and it seemed as if the life that went out of every one of them had turned to the shape of a man-headed bird—grey they were, and they rose up of a sudden and called out with voices like our own, and flew away singing to the west. Words like this they were singing: ‘Happiness beyond measure, happiness where the sun dies.’
Second Sailor. I understand well what they are doing. My mother used to be talking of birds of the sort. They are sent by the lasting watchers to lead men away from this world and its women to some place of shining women that cast no shadow, having lived before the making of the earth. But I have no mind to go following him to that place.
First Sailor. Let us creep up to him and kill him in his sleep.
Second Sailor. I would have made an end of him long ago, but that I was in dread of his harp. It is said that when he plays upon it he has power over all the listeners, with or without the body, seen or unseen, and any man that listens grows to be as mad as himself.
First Sailor. What way can he play it, being in his sleep?
Second Sailor. But who would be our captain then to make out a course from the Bear and the Pole-star, and to bring us back home?
First Sailor. I have that thought out. We must have Aibric with us. He knows the constellations as well as Forgael. He is a good hand with the sword. Join with us; be our captain, Aibric. We are agreed to put an end to Forgael, before he wakes. There is no man but will be glad of it when it is done. Join with us, and you will have the captain’s share and profit.
Aibric. Silence! for you have taken Forgael’s pay.
First Sailor. Little pay we have had this twelvemonth. We would never have turned against him if he had brought us, as he promised, into seas that would be thick with ships. That was the bargain. What is the use of knocking about and fighting as we do unless we get the chance to drink more wine and kiss more women than lasting peaceable men through their long lifetime? You will be as good a leader as ever he was himself, if you will but join us.
Aibric. And do you think that I will join myself To men like you, and murder him who has been My master from my earliest childhood up? No! nor to a world of men like you When Forgael’s in the other scale. Come! come! I’ll answer to more purpose when you have drawn That sword out of its scabbard.
First Sailor. You have awaked him. We had best go, for we have missed this chance.
Forgael. Have the birds passed us? I could hear your voice.
But there were others.
Aibric.I have seen nothing pass.
Forgael. You are certain of it? I never wake from sleep
But that I am afraid they may have passed;
For they’re my only pilots. I have not seen them
For many days, and yet there must be many
Dying at every moment in the world.
Aibric. They have all but driven you crazy, and already
The sailors have been plotting for your death,
And all the birds have cried into your ears
Has lured you on to death.
Forgael.No; but they promised—
Aibric. I know their promises. You have told me all.
They are to bring you to unheard-of passion,
To