No More Learning

Now are our days of heavy labour done.

FIRST MERCHANT.

We have a precious jewel for Satan's crown.

SECOND MERCHANT.

We must away, and wait until she dies,
Sitting above her tower as two gray owls,
Watching as many years as may be, guarding
Our precious jewel; waiting to seize her soul.

FIRST MERCHANT.

We need but hover over her head in the air,
For she has only minutes: when she came
I saw the dimness of the tomb in her,
And marked her walking as with leaden shoes
And looking on the ground as though the worms
Were calling her, and when she wrote her name
Her heart began to break. Hush! hush! I hear
The brazen door of Hell move on its hinges,
And the eternal revelry float hither
To hearten us.

SECOND MERCHANT.

Leap, feathered, on the air
And meet them with her soul caught in your claws.

[_They rush out. ALEEL crawls into the middle of the
room. The twilight has fallen and gradually darkens
as the scene goes on.
There is a distant muttering of
thunder and a sound of rising storm. _

ALEEL.

The brazen door stands wide, and Balor comes
Borne in his heavy car, and demons have lifted
The age-weary eyelids from the eyes that of old
Turned gods to stone; Barach the traitor comes;
And the lascivious race, Cailitin,
That cast a druid weakness and decay
Over Sualtam's and old Dectora's child;
And that great king Hell first took hold upon
When he killed Naisi and broke Deirdre's heart;
And all their heads are twisted to one side,
For when they lived they warred on beauty and peace
With obstinate, crafty, sidelong bitterness.

[_OONA enters, but remains standing by the door. ALEEL
half rises, leaning upon one arm and one knee. _]

Crouch down, old heron, out of the blind storm.

OONA.

Where is the Countess Cathleen? All this day
She has been pale and weakly: when her hand
Touched mine over the spindle her hand trembled,
And now I do not know where she has gone.

ALEEL.

Cathleen has chosen other friends than us,
And they are rising through the hollow world.

[_He points downwards. _

First, Orchil, her pale beautiful head alive,
Her body shadowy as vapour drifting
Under the dawn, for she who awoke desire
Has but a heart of blood when others die;
About her is a vapoury multitude
Of women, alluring devils with soft laughter;
Behind her a host heat of the blood made sin,
But all the little pink-white nails have grown
To be great talons.

[_He seizes OONA and drags her into the middle of the
room and points downwards with vehement gestures. The
wind roars. _]

They begin a song
And there is still some music on their tongues.