by W. B. Yeats
THE KING. — What?
THE STROLLER. — Dance, and dance
Till I grow grateful, and grown grateful sing.
THE KING. Sing out you may, but not from gratitude.
Guard, flog this man!
THE STROLLER. — What, flog a sacred man?
THE KING. A sacred man?
THE STROLLER. — I ran to the Boyne Water
And where a sea-mew and the salt sea wind
Yelled Godhead, on a round green hillock lay;
Nine days I fasted there — but that’s a secret
Between us three — then Aengus and the Gods
Appeared, and when I said what I had sworn
Shouted approval. Then great Aengus spoke —
O listen, for I speak his very words —
‘On stroke of midnight when the old year dies,
Upon that stroke, the tolling of that bell,
The Queen shall kiss your mouth,’ — his very words —
Your Queen, my mouth, the Queen shall kiss my mouth.
THE KING. Come, Captain of the Guard.
FIRST ATTENDANT
[speaking as Captain of the Guard]. King, I am here.
THE KING. This man insults me and insults the Queen.
Take him and bring me his head.
FIRST ATTENDANT
[speaking as Captain of the Guard]. I take him, King.
THE STROLLER. I go; but this must happen:
[Counting on his fingers]
First the Queen
Will dance before me, second I shall sing.
THE KING. What, sing without a head?
THE STROLLER. — Grateful I sing,
Then, grateful in her turn, the Queen will kiss
My mouth because it sang.
THE KING. — Stand where you are!
Stand! All from the beginning has been lies,
Extravagance and lies. Who is this man?
Perhaps if you will speak, and speak the truth,
I may not kill him. What? You will not speak?
Then take him, Captain of the Guard.
FIRST ATTENDANT [speaking as Captain of the Guard]. I take him.
THE KING. And bring his head as evidence of his death.
If he was not your lover in that place
You come from, if the nothing that he seems,
A stroller and a fool, a rambling rogue
That has insulted you, laugh, dance or sing,
Do something, anything, I care not what
So that you move — but why those staring eyes?
SECOND ATTENDANT [singing as Queen in a low voice].
O what may come
Into my womb?
THE KING. Ah! That is better. Let the voice ring out.
Let everybody hear that song of joy.
SECOND ATTENDANT [singing as Queen].
He longs to kill
My body, until
That sudden shudder
And limbs lie still.
O, what may come
Into my womb,
What caterpillar
My beauty consume?
THE KING. I do not know the meaning of those words
That have a scornful sound.
[The King goes to right and returns with the head of the Stroller, and lays it upon the cubical throne to the right nearest audience.
Sing, Stroller and fool.
Open that mouth, my Queen awaits a song.
[The Queen begins to dance.
Dance, turn him into mockery with a dance!
No woman ever had a better thought.
All here applaud that thought. Dance, woman, dance!
Neither so red, nor white, nor full in the breast,
That’s what he said! Dance, give him scorn for scorn,
Display your beauty, spread your peacock tail.
[The Queen dances, then takes up the severed head and stands in centre of the stage facing audience, the severed head upon her shoulder.
THE KING. His eyelids tremble, his lips begin to move.
FIRST ATTENDANT [singing as Head in a low voice].
Clip and lip and long for more —
THE KING. O, O, they have begun to sing.
FIRST ATTENDANT [singing as Head].
Clip and lip and long for more,
Mortal men our abstracts are;
What of the hands on the Great Clock face?
All those living wretches crave
Prerogatives of the dead that have
Sprung heroic from the grave.
A moment more and it tolls midnight.
Crossed fingers there in pleasure can
Exceed the nuptial bed of man;
What of the hands on the Great Clock face?
A nuptial bed exceed all that
Boys at puberty have thought,
Or sibyls in a frenzy sought.
A moment more and it tolls midnight.
What’s prophesied? What marvel is
Where the dead and living kiss?
What of the hands on the Great Clock face?
Sacred Virgil never sang
All the marvel there begun,
But there’s a stone upon my tongue.
A moment more and it tolls midnight.
[When the song has finished, the dance begins again, the Clock strikes. The strokes are represented by blows on a gong struck by Second Attendant. The Queen dances to the sound, and at the last stroke presses her lips to the lips of the head. The King has risen and drawn his sword. The Queen lays the head upon her breast, and fixes her eyes upon him. He appears about to strike, but kneels, laying the sword at her feet. The two Attendants rise singing, and slowly close the inner curtain.
FIRST ATTENDANT. O, but I saw a solemn sight;
Said the rambling, shambling travelling-man;
Castle Dargan’s ruin all lit,
Lovely ladies dancing in it.
SECOND ATTENDANT. What though they danced! Those days are gone,
Said the wicked, crooked, hawthorn tree;
Lovely lady or gallant man
Are blown cold dust or a bit of bone.
FIRST ATTENDANT. O, what is life but a mouthful of air?
Said the rambling, shambling travelling-man;
Yet all the lovely things that were
Live, for I saw them dancing there.
[The Queen has come down stage and now stands framed in the half-closed curtains.
SECOND ATTENDANT. Nobody knows what may befall,
Said the wicked, crooked, hawthorn tree.
I have stood so long by a gap in the wall
Maybe I shall not die at all.
[The outer curtain descends]
ALTERNATIVE SONG FOR
THE SEVERED HEAD
Saddle and ride, I heard a man say,
Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea,
What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower?
All those tragic characters ride
But turn from Rosses’ crawling tide,
The meet’s upon the mountain side.
A slow low note and an iron bell.
What brought them there so far from their home,
Cuchulain that fought night long with the foam,
What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower?
Niam that rode on it; lad and lass
That sat so still and played at the chess?
What but heroic wantonness?
A slow low note and an iron bell.
Aleel, his Countess; Hanrahan
That seemed but a wild wenching man;
What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower?
And all alone comes riding there
The King that could make his people stare,
Because he had feathers instead of hair.
A slow low note and an iron bell.
Curtain
A FULL MOON IN MARCH
PERSONS IN THE PLAY
First Attendant
The Queen
Second Att
endant
The Swineherd
A FULL MOON IN MARCH
The Swineherd wears a half-savage mask covering the upper part of his face. He is bearded. When the inner curtain rises for the second time the player who has hitherto taken the part of the Queen is replaced by a dancer.
When the stage curtain rises, two Attendants, an elderly woman and a young man, are discovered standing before an inner curtain.
FIRST ATTENDANT. What do we do?
What part do we take?
What did he say?
SECOND ATTENDANT. Join when we like,
Singing or speaking.
FIRST ATTENDANT. Before the curtain rises on the play?
SECOND ATTENDANT. Before it rises.
FIRST ATTENDANT. What do we sing?
SECOND ATTENDANT. ‘Sing anything, sing any old thing,’ said he.
FIRST ATTENDANT. Come then and sing about the dung of swine.
[They slowly part the inner curtain. The Second Attendant sings — the First Attendant may join in the singing at the end of the first or second verse. The First Attendant has a soprano, the Second a bass voice.
SECOND ATTENDANT.
Every loutish lad in love
Thinks his wisdom great enough,
What cares love for this and that?
To make all his parish stare,
As though Pythagoras wandered there.
Crown of gold or dung of swine.
Should old Pythagoras fall in love
Little may he boast thereof.
What cares love for this and that?
Days go by in foolishness.
O how great their sweetness is!
Crown of gold or dung of swine.
Open wide those gleaming eyes,
That can make the loutish wise.
What cares love for this and that?
Make a leader of the schools
Thank the Lord, all men are fools.
Crown of gold or dung of swine.
[They sit at one side of stage near audience. If they are musicians, they have beside them drum, flute and zither. The Queen is discovered seated and veiled.
THE QUEEN [stretching and yawning]. What man is at the door?
SECOND ATTENDANT. Nobody, Queen.
THE QUEEN. Some man has come, some terrifying man,
For I have yawned and stretched myself three times.
Admit him, Captain of the Guard....
SECOND ATTENDANT [speaking as Captain of the Guard], He comes.
Enter the Swineherd
THE SWINEHERD. The beggars of my country say that he
That sings you best shall take you for a wife.
THE QUEEN. He that best sings his passion.
THE SWINEHERD. — And they say
The kingdom is added to the gift.
THE QUEEN. — I swore it.
THE SWINEHERD. But what if some blind aged cripple sing
Better than wholesome men?
THE QUEEN. — Some I reject.
Some I have punished for their impudence.
None I abhor can sing.
THE SWINEHERD. — SO that’s the catch.
Queen, look at me, look long at these foul rags,
At hair more foul and ragged than my rags;
Look on my scratched foul flesh. Have I not come
Through dust and mire? There in the dust and mire
Beasts scratched my flesh; my memory too is gone,
Because great solitudes have driven me mad.
But when I look into a stream, the face
That trembles upon the surface makes me think
My origin more foul than rag or flesh.
THE QUEEN. But you have passed through perils for my sake;
Come a great distance. I permit the song.
THE SWINEHERD. Kingdom and lady, if I sing the best?
But who decides?
THE QUEEN. — I and my heart decide.
We say that song is best that moves us most.
No song has moved us yet.
THE SWINEHERD. — YOU must be won
At a full moon in March, those beggars say.
That moon has come, but I am here alone.
THE QUEEN. NO other man has come.
THE SWINEHERD. — The moon is full.
THE QUEEN. Remember through what perils you have come:
That I am crueller than solitude,
Forest or beast. Some I have killed or maimed
Because their singing put me in a rage,
And some because they came at all. Men hold
That woman’s beauty is a kindly thing,
But they that call me cruel speak the truth,
Cruel as the winter of virginity.
But for a reason that I cannot guess
I would not harm you. Go before I change.
Why do you stand, your chin upon your breast?
THE SWINEHERD. My mind is running on our marriage night,
Imagining all from the first touch and kiss.
THE QUEEN. What gives you that strange confidence? What makes
You think that you can move my heart and me?
THE SWINEHERD. Because I look upon you without fear.
THE QUEEN. A lover in railing or in flattery said
God only looks upon me without fear.
THE SWINEHERD. Desiring cruelty, he made you cruel.
I shall embrace body and cruelty,
Desiring both as though I had made both.
THE QUEEN. One question more. You bring like all the rest
Some novel simile, some wild hyperbole
Praising my beauty?
THE SWINEHERD. — My memory has returned.
I tended swine, when I first heard your name.
I rolled among the dung of swine and laughed.
What do I know of beauty?
THE QUEEN. — Sing the best
And you are not a swineherd, but a king.
THE SWINEHERD. What do I know of kingdoms?
[Snapping his fingers]
That for kingdoms!
THE QUEEN. If trembling of my limbs or sudden tears
Proclaim your song beyond denial best,
I leave these corridors, this ancient house,
A famous throne, the reverence of servants —
What do I gain?
THE SWINEHERD. A song — the night of love,
An ignorant forest and the dung of swine.
[Queen leaves throne and comes down stage.
THE QUEEN. All here have heard the man and all have judged.
I led him, that I might not seem unjust,
From point to point, established in all eyes
That he came hither not to sing but to heap
Complexities of insult upon my head.
THE SWINEHERD. She shall bring forth her farrow in the dung.
But first my song — what nonsense shall I sing?
THE QUEEN. Send for the headsman, Captain of the Guard.
SECOND ATTENDANT [speaking as Captain of the Guard]. I have already sent. He stands without.
THE QUEEN. I owe my thanks to God that this foul wretch,
Foul in his rags, his origin, his speech,
In spite of all his daring has not dared
Ask me to drop my veil. Insulted ears
Have heard and shuddered, but my face is pure.
Had it but known the insult of his eyes
I had torn it with these nails.
THE SWINEHERD [going up stage]. Why should I ask?
What do those features matter? When I set out
I picked a number on the roulette wheel.
I trust the wheel, as every lover must.
THE QUEEN. Pray, if your savagery has learnt to pray,
For in a moment they will lead you out
Then bring your severed head.
THE SWINEHERD. — My severed head.
[Laughs.
There is a story in my country of a woman
That stood all bat
hed in blood — a drop of blood
Entered her womb and there begat a child.
THE QUEEN. A severed head! She took it in her hands;
She stood all bathed in blood; the blood begat.
O foul, foul, foul!
THE SWINEHERD. She sank in bridal sleep.
THE QUEEN. Her body in that sleep conceived a child.
Begone! I shall not see your face again.
[She turns towards him, her back to the audience, and slowly drops her veil.
The Attendants close the inner curtain.
SECOND ATTENDANT. What do we sing?
FIRST ATTENDANT. — An ancient Irish Queen
That stuck a head upon a stake.
SECOND ATTENDANT. — Her lover’s head;
But that’s a different queen, a different story.
FIRST ATTENDANT. He had famished in a wilderness,
Braved lions for my sake,
And all men lie that say that I
Bade that swordsman take
His head from off his body
And set it on a stake.
He swore to sing my beauty
Though death itself forbade.
They lie that say, in mockery
Of all that lovers said,
Or in mere woman’s cruelty
I bade them fetch his head.
[They begin to part the inner curtain.
O what innkeeper’s daughter
Shared the Byzantine crown?
Girls that have governed cities,
Or burned great cities down,