by W. B. Yeats
Mr. Joyce. I wish, Paul, you would come back and live like a Christian.
Paul Ruttledge. Like a Christian?
Mr. Joyce. Come away, there’s no use stopping here any longer.
Paul Ruttledge. [Sternly.] Wait, I have something to say to that. [To Charlie Ward.] Do not let anyone leave this place.
[Tinkers close together at the door.
Mr. Green. [To Tinkers.] This is nonsense. Let me through.
[Tinker spreads out his arms before him.
Paul Ruttledge. You have come into a different kingdom now; the old kingdom of the people of the roads, the houseless people. We call ourselves tinkers, and you are going to put us on our trial if you can. You call yourselves Christians and we will put you on your trial first. I will put the world on its trial, and myself of yesterday. [To a Boy.] Run out, Johneen, keep a watch, and tell us when the train is coming. Sabina, that rope; we will set these gentlemen on those barrels. [Tinkers take hold of them.
Colonel Lawley. Keep your hands off me, you drunken scoundrel!
[Strikes at Charlie Ward, but Tinkers seize his arms behind.
Paul Ruttledge. Tie all their hands behind them.
Mr. Dowler. We’d better give in, there’s no saying how many more of them there are.
Mr. Algie. I’ll be quiet, the odds are too great against us.
Mr. Green. The police will soon be here; we may as well stay quietly.
Paddy Cockfight. Here, give it to me, I’ll put a good twist in it. Don’t be afraid, sir, it’s not about your neck I’m putting it — — . There now, sit quiet and easy, and you won’t feel it at all.
Paul Ruttledge. Are all their hands tied? Now then, heave them up on to the barrels.
[Slight scuffle, during which all are put on the barrels in a semicircle.
Paul Ruttledge. Ah! yes, you are on my barrels now; last time I saw you, you were on your own dunghill. Let me see, is there anyone here who can write?
Charlie Ward. Nobody.
Paul Ruttledge. Never mind, you can keep count on your fingers. The rest must sit down and behave themselves as befits a court. They say they are living like Christians. Let us see.
Thomas Ruttledge. Oh, Paul, don’t make such a fool of yourself.
Paul Ruttledge. The point is not wisdom or folly, but the Christian life.
Mr. Dowler. Don’t answer him, Thomas. Let us preserve our dignity.
Mr. Algie. Yes, let us keep a dignified attitude — we won’t answer these ruffians at all.
Paul Ruttledge. Respect the court! [Turns to Colonel Lawley.] You have served your Queen and country in the field, and now you are a colonel of militia.
Colonel Lawley. Well, what is there to be ashamed of in that? Answer me that, now.
Paul Ruttledge. Yet there is an old saying about turning the other cheek, an old saying, a saying so impossible that the world has never been able to get it out of its mind. You have helped to enlist men for the army, I think? Some of them have fought in the late war, and you have even sent some of your own militia there.
Colonel Lawley. If I did I’m proud of it.
Paul Ruttledge. Did they think it was a just war?
Colonel Lawley. That was not their business. They had taken the Queen’s pay. They would have disgraced themselves if they had not gone.
Paul Ruttledge. Is it not the doctrine of your Christian Church, of your Catholic Church, that he who fights in an unjust war, knowing it to be unjust, loses his own soul?
Colonel Lawley. I should like to know what would happen to the country if there weren’t soldiers to protect it.
Paul Ruttledge. We are not discussing the country, we are discussing the Christian life. Has this gentleman lived the Christian life?
All the Tinkers. He has not!
Paddy Cockfight. His sergeant tried to enlist me, giving me a shilling, and I drunk.
Tommy the Song. [Singing.]
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
Charlie Ward. Stop your mouth, Tommy. This is not your show. [To Paul Ruttledge.] Are you going to put a fine on the Colonel? If so I’d like his cloak.
Paul Ruttledge. Now we’ll try Mr. Dowler, the rich man. [Holds up his fingers in a ring.] Mr. Dowler, could you go through this?
Mr. Algie. Don’t answer him, Dowler; he’s going beyond all bounds.
Paul Ruttledge. I was a rich man and I could not, and yet I am something smaller than a camel, and this is something larger than a needle’s eye.
Mr. Joyce. Don’t answer this profanity.
Charlie Ward. But what about the cloak?
Paul Ruttledge. Oh! go and take it.
[Charlie Ward goes and takes cloak off the Colonel.
Colonel Lawley. You drunken rascal, I’ll see you in the dock for this.
Mr. Joyce. You’re encouraging robbery now.
Paul Ruttledge. Remember the commandment, “Give to him that asketh thee”; and the hard commandment goes even farther, “Him that taketh thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also.” [Holding out his rags.] Have I not shown you what Mr. Green would call a shining example. Charlie, ask them all for their coats.
Charlie Ward. I will, and their boots, too.
All the Tinkers. [Uproariously.] Give me your coat; I’ll have your boots, etc.
Mr. Green. Wait till the police come. I’ll turn the tables on you; you may all expect hard labour for this.
Paul Ruttledge. [To the Tinkers.] Stand back, the trial is not over. Mr. Green, these friends of yours have been convicted of breaking the doctrine they boast of. They do not love their enemies; they do not give to every man that asks of them. Some of them, Mr. Dowler, for instance, lay up treasures upon earth; they ask their goods again of those who have taken them away. But you, Mr. Green, are the worst of all. They break the Law of Christ for their own pleasure, but you take pay for breaking it. When their goods are taken away you condemn the taker; when they are smitten on one cheek you punish the smiter. You encourage them in their breaking of the Law of Christ.
Tommy the Song. He does, indeed. He gave me two months for snaring rabbits.
Paddy Cockfight. He tried to put a fine on me for a cock I had, and he took five shillings off Molly for hitting a man.
Paul Ruttledge. Your evidence is not wanted. His own words are enough. [Stretching out his arms.] Have any of these gentlemen been living the Christian life?
All. They have not.
Johneen. [Coming in.] Ye’d best clear off now. I see the train coming in to the station.
Paddy Cockfight. The police will find plenty to do in the village before they come to us; that’s one good job.
Paul Ruttledge. One moment. I have done trying the world I have left. You have accused me of upsetting order by my free drinks, and I have showed you that there is a more dreadful fermentation in the Sermon on the Mount than in my beer-barrels. Christ thought it in the irresponsibility of His omnipotence. [Getting from his bin.] Charlie, give me that cloak. [He flings it back.
Charlie Ward. Aren’t you going to punish them anyway?
Paul Ruttledge. No, no, from this out I would punish nobody but myself.
[Some of the Tinkers have gone out.
Charlie Ward. We’d best be off while we can. Come along, Paul, Sibby’s gone.
[As they go out Tommy the Song is singing,
Down by the sally garden my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her milk-white hand;
She bade me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
[All go out except Paul Ruttledge.
Paul Ruttledge. Well, good-bye, Thomas; I don’t suppose I’ll see you again. Use all I have; spend it on your children; I’ll never want it. [To the others.] Will you come and join us? We will find rags for you all. Perhaps you will give up that dream that is fading from you, and come a
mong the blind, homeless people; put off the threadbare clothes of the Apostles and run naked for awhile. [Is going out.
Thomas Ruttledge. You have nothing against me, have you, Paul?
Paul Ruttledge. Oh, yes, I have; a little that I have said against all these, and a worse thing than all, though it is not in the book.
Thomas Ruttledge. What is it?
Paul Ruttledge. [Looking back from the threshold.] You have begotten fools.
Curtain.
ACT IV.
Scene 1. — Great door in the middle of the stage under a stone cross, with flights of steps leading to door. Enter Charlie Ward, Paddy Cockfight, Tommy The Song, and Sabina Silver. They are supporting Paul Ruttledge, who is bent and limping.
Charlie Ward. We must leave you here. The monks will take you in. We’re very sorry, Paul. It’s a heartscald to us to leave you and you know that, but what can we do? [They lead Paul Ruttledge to steps.
Paul Ruttledge. Ah! that was a bad stitch! [Gasps.] Take care now; put me down gently.
Sabina Silver. Oh! can’t we keep him with us anyway; he’ll find no one to care him as well as myself.
Tommy the Song. What way can you care him, Sibby? It’s no way to have him lying out on the roadside under guano bags, like ourselves, and the rain coming down on him like it did last night. It’s in hospital he’ll be for the next month.
Charlie Ward. We’d never leave you if you could even walk. If we have to give you to the monks itself, we’d keep round the place to encourage you, only for the last business. We’ll have to put two counties at least between us and Gortmore after what we’re after doing.
Paul Ruttledge. Never mind, boys, they’ll never insult a tinker again in Gortmore as long as the town’s a town.
Charlie Ward. Dear knows! it breaks my heart to think of the fine times we had of it since you joined us. Why the months seemed like days. And all the fine sprees we had together! Now you’re gone from us we might as well be jailed at once.
Paddy Cockfight. And how you took to the cocks! I believe you were a better judge than myself. No one but you would ever have fancied that black-winged cock — and he never met his match.
Paul Ruttledge. Ah! well, I’m doubled up now like that old cock of Andy Farrell’s.
Paddy Cockfight. No, but you were the best warrant to set a snare that ever I came across.
Paul Ruttledge. [Sitting down with difficulty on the steps.] Yes; it was a grand time we had, and I wouldn’t take back a day of it; but it’s over now, I’ve hit my ribs against the earth and they’re aching.
Sabina Silver. Oh! Paul, Paul, is it to leave you we must? And you never once struck a kick or a blow on me all this time, not even and you in pain with the rheumatism. [A clock strikes inside.
Charlie Ward. There’s the clock striking. The monks will be getting up. We’d best be off after the others. I hear some noise inside; they’d best not catch us here. I’ll stop and pull the bell. Be off with you, boys!
Paul Ruttledge. Good-bye, Sabina. Don’t cry! you’ll get another husband.
Sabina Silver. I’ll never lep the budget with another man; I swear it.
Paul Ruttledge. Good-bye, Paddy. Good-bye, Tommy. My mother Earth will have none of me and I will go look for my father that is in heaven.
Paddy Cockfight. Come along, Sibby.
[Takes her hand and hurries off.
Charlie Ward. [Rings bell.] Are they sure to let you in, Paul? Have you got your story ready?
Paul Ruttledge. No fear, they won’t refuse a sick man. No one knows me but Father Jerome, and he won’t tell on me.
Charlie Ward. There’s a step inside. I’ll cut for it.
[He goes out. Paul is left sitting on steps.
Scene 2. — The crypt under the Monastery church. A small barred window high up in the wall, through which the cold dawn is breaking. Altar in a niche at the back of stage; there are seven unlighted candles on the altar. A little hanging lamp near the altar. Paul Ruttledge is lying on the altar steps. Friars are dancing slowly before him in the dim light. Father Aloysius is leaning against a pillar.
Some Friars come in carrying lanterns.
First Friar. What are they doing? Dancing?
Second Friar. I told you they were dancing, and you would not believe me.
First Friar. What on earth are they doing it for?
Third Friar. I heard them saying Father Paul told them to do it if they ever found him in a trance again. He told them it was a kind of prayer and would bring joy down out of heaven, and make it easier for him to preach.
Second Friar. How still he is lying; you would nearly think him to be dead.
A Friar. It is just a twelvemonth to-day since he was in a trance like this.
Second Friar. That was the time he gave his great preaching. I can’t blame those that went with him, for he all but persuaded me.
First Friar. They think he is going to preach again when he awakes, that’s why they are dancing. When he wakes one of them will go and call the others.
Third Friar. We were all in danger when one so pious was led away. It’s five years he has been with us now, and no one ever went so quickly from lay brother to novice, and novice to friar.
First Friar. The way he fasted too! The Superior bade me watch him at meal times for fear he should starve himself.
Third Friar. He thought a great deal of Brother Paul then, but he isn’t so well pleased with him now.
Second Friar. What is Father Aloysius doing there? standing so quiet and his eyes shut.
Third Friar. He is meditating. Didn’t you hear Brother Paul gives meditations of his own.
First Friar. Colman was telling me about that. He gives them a joyful thought to fix their minds on. They must not let their minds stray to anything else. They must follow that single thought and put everything else behind them.
Third Friar. Colman fainted the other day when he was at his meditation. He says it is a great labour to follow one thought always.
Second Friar. What do they do it for?
First Friar. To escape what they call the wandering of nature. They say it was in the trance Brother Paul got the knowledge of it. He says that if a man can only keep his mind on the one high thought he gets out of time into eternity, and learns the truth for itself.
Third Friar. He calls that getting above law and number, and becoming king and priest in one’s own house.
Second Friar. A nice state of things it would be if every man was his own priest and his own king.
First Friar. I wonder will he wake soon. I thought I saw him stir just now. Father Aloysius, will he wake soon?
Aloysius. What did you say?
First Friar. Will he wake soon?
Aloysius. Yes, yes, he will wake very soon now.
Second Friar. What are they going to do now; are they going to dance?
Third Friar. He was too patient with him. He would have made short work of any of us if we had gone so far.
First Dancer.
Nam, et si ambulavero in medio umbrae mortis,
Non timebo mala, quoniam tu mecum es.
First Friar. They are singing the twenty-second Psalm. What madness to sing!
Second Dancer.
Virga tua, et baculus tuus,
Ipsa me consolata sunt.
First Dancer.
Parasti in conspectu meo mensam
Adversus eos qui tribulant me.
Second Dancer.
Impinguasti in oleo caput meum;
Et calix meus inebrians quam praeclarus est.
Second Friar. Here is the Superior. There’ll be bad work now.
Superior comes in.
Superior. [Holding up his hand.] Silence!
[They stop singing and dancing.
First Dancer. It’s the Superior.
Superior. Stop this blasphemy! Leave the chapel at once! I will deal with you by-and-by. [Dancing Friars go out.
Jerome. [Stooping over Paul.] He has not wakened from the trance yet.
Aloysius. [Who still remains perfectly motionless.] Not yet, but he will soon awake — Paul!
Superior. It is hardly worth while being angry with those poor fools whose heads he has turned with his talk. [Stoops and touches his hand.] It is quite rigid. I will wait till he is alive again, there is no use wasting words on a dead body.