'
OUT OF THE ROSE
ONE winter evening an old knight in rusted chain-armour rode slowly
along the woody southern slope of Ben Bulben, watching the sun go down
in crimson clouds over the sea.
OUT OF THE ROSE
ONE winter evening an old knight in rusted chain-armour rode slowly
along the woody southern slope of Ben Bulben, watching the sun go down
in crimson clouds over the sea.
Yeats
'Who among you is the poorest? ' And thereupon was a great clamour, for
the beggars began the history of their sorrows and their poverty, and
their yellow faces swayed like Gara Lough when the floods have filled
it with water from the bogs.
He listened for a little, and, says he, 'I am myself the poorest,
for I have travelled the bare road, and by the edges of the sea; and
the tattered doublet of particoloured cloth upon my back and the
torn pointed shoes upon my feet have ever irked me, because of the
towered city full of noble raiment which was in my heart. And I have
been the more alone upon the roads and by the sea because I heard in
my heart the rustling of the rose-bordered dress of her who is more
subtle than Aengus, the Subtle-hearted, and more full of the beauty of
laughter than Conan the Bald, and more full of the wisdom of tears than
White-breasted Deirdre, and more lovely than a bursting dawn to them
that are lost in the darkness. Therefore, I award the tithe to myself;
but yet, because I am done with all things, I give it unto you. '
So he flung the bread and the strips of bacon among the beggars,
and they fought with many cries until the last scrap was eaten. But
meanwhile the friars nailed the gleeman to his cross, and set it
upright in the hole, and shovelled the earth in at the foot, and
trampled it level and hard. So then they went away, but the beggars
stared on, sitting round the cross. But when the sun was sinking, they
also got up to go, for the air was getting chilly. And as soon as they
had gone a little way, the wolves, who had been showing themselves on
the edge of a neighbouring coppice, came nearer, and the birds wheeled
closer and closer. 'Stay, outcasts, yet a little while,' the crucified
one called in a weak voice to the beggars, 'and keep the beasts and the
birds from me. ' But the beggars were angry because he had called them
outcasts, so they threw stones and mud at him, and went their way. Then
the wolves gathered at the foot of the cross, and the birds flew lower
and lower. And presently the birds lighted all at once upon his head
and arms and shoulders, and began to peck at him, and the wolves began
to eat his feet. 'Outcasts,' he moaned, 'have you also turned against
the outcast?
'
OUT OF THE ROSE
ONE winter evening an old knight in rusted chain-armour rode slowly
along the woody southern slope of Ben Bulben, watching the sun go down
in crimson clouds over the sea. His horse was tired, as after a long
journey, and he had upon his helmet the crest of no neighbouring lord
or king, but a small rose made of rubies that glimmered every moment to
a deeper crimson. His white hair fell in thin curls upon his shoulders,
and its disorder added to the melancholy of his face, which was the
face of one of those who have come but seldom into the world, and
always for its trouble, the dreamers who must do what they dream, the
doers who must dream what they do.
After gazing a while towards the sun, he let the reins fall upon the
neck of his horse, and, stretching out both arms towards the west, he
said, 'O Divine Rose of Intellectual Flame, let the gates of thy peace
be opened to me at last! ' And suddenly a loud squealing began in the
woods some hundreds of yards further up the mountain side. He stopped
his horse to listen, and heard behind him a sound of feet and of
voices. 'They are beating them to make them go into the narrow path by
the gorge,' said someone, and in another moment a dozen peasants armed
with short spears had come up with the knight, and stood a little apart
from him, their blue caps in their hands.
'Where do you go with the spears? ' he asked; and one who seemed the
leader answered: 'A troop of wood-thieves came down from the hills a
while ago and carried off the pigs belonging to an old man who lives by
Glen Car Lough, and we turned out to go after them. Now that we know
they are four times more than we are, we follow to find the way they
have taken; and will presently tell our story to De Courcey, and if he
will not help us, to Fitzgerald; for De Courcey and Fitzgerald have
lately made a peace, and we do not know to whom we belong. '
'But by that time,' said the knight, 'the pigs will have been eaten. '
'A dozen men cannot do more, and it was not reasonable that the whole
valley should turn out and risk their lives for two, or for two dozen
pigs. '
'Can you tell me,' said the knight, 'if the old man to whom the pigs
belong is pious and true of heart? '
'He is as true as another and more pious than any, for he says a prayer
to a saint every morning before his breakfast. '
'Then it were well to fight in his cause,' said the knight, 'and if you
will fight against the wood-thieves I will take the main brunt of the
battle, and you know well that a man in armour is worth many like these
wood-thieves, clad in wool and leather. '
And the leader turned to his fellows and asked if they would take the
chance; but they seemed anxious to get back to their cabins.