The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 4 of 8. The Hour-glass. Cathleen ni Houlihan. The Golden Helmet. The Irish Dramatic Movement. Yeats William Butler

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      Is there any one amongst you who believes in God? In Heaven? Or in Purgatory? Or in Hell?

      No one, Master! No one!

      I knew you would all say that; but do not be afraid. I will not be angry. Tell me the truth. Do you not believe?

      We once did, but you have taught us to know better.

      Oh! teaching, teaching does not go very deep! The heart remains unchanged under it all. You have the faith that you always had, and you are afraid to tell me.

      No, no, Master!

      If you tell me that you have not changed I shall be glad and not angry.

      He wants somebody to dispute with.

      I knew that from the beginning.

      That is not the subject for to-day; you were going to talk about the words the beggar wrote upon the walls of Babylon.

      If there is one amongst you that believes, he will be my best friend. Surely there is one amongst you. [They are all silent.] Surely what you learned at your mother’s knees has not been so soon forgotten.

      Master, till you came, no teacher in this land was able to get rid of foolishness and ignorance. But every one has listened to you, every one has learned the truth. You have had your last disputation.

      What a fool you made of that monk in the market-place! He had not a word to say.

      Pupils, dear friends, I have deceived you all this time. It was I myself who was ignorant. There is a God. There is a Heaven. There is fire that passes, and there is fire that lasts for ever.

      He will not be satisfied till we dispute with him. [To the WISE MAN.] Prove it, Master. Have you seen them?

      Just now, before you came in, someone came to the door, and when I looked up I saw an angel standing there.

      You were in a dream. Anybody can see an angel in his dreams.

      Oh, my God! It was not a dream! I was awake, waking as I am now. I tell you I was awake as I am now.

      Some dream when they are awake, but they are the crazy, and who would believe what they say? Forgive me, Master, but that is what you taught me to say. That is what you said to the monk when he spoke of the visions of the saints and the martyrs.

      You see how well we remember your teaching.

      Out, out from my sight! I want someone with belief. I must find that grain the Angel spoke of before I die. I tell you I must find it, and you answer me with arguments. Out with you, out of my sight!

      How well he plays at faith! He is like the monk when he had nothing more to say.

      Out, out! This is no time for laughter! Out with you, though you are a king’s son!

      Come, come; he wants us to find someone who will dispute with him.[All go out.

      I will call my wife. She will believe; women always believe. [He opens the door and calls.] Bridget! Bridget! [BRIDGET comes in wearing her apron, her sleeves turned up from her floury arms.] Bridget, tell me the truth; do not say what you think will please me. Do you sometimes say your prayers?

      Prayers! No, you taught me to leave them off long ago. At first I was sorry, but I am glad now for I am sleepy in the evenings.

      But do you not believe in God?

      Oh, a good wife only believes what her husband tells her!

      But sometimes when you are alone, when I am in the school and the children asleep, do you not think about the saints, about the things you used to believe in? What do you think of when you are alone?

      I think about nothing. Sometimes I wonder if the linen is bleaching white, or I go out to see if the crows are picking up the chickens’ food.

      Oh, what can I do! Is there nobody who believes he can never die? I must go and find somebody! [He goes towards the door, but stops with his eyes fixed on the hour-glass.] I cannot go out; I cannot leave that. Go, and call my pupils again. I will make them understand. I will say to them that only amid spiritual terror, or only when all that laid hold on life is shaken can we see truth. There is something in Plato, but – no, do not call them. They would answer as I have bid.

      You want somebody to get up an argument with.

      Oh, look out of the door and tell me if there is anybody there in the street. I cannot leave this glass; somebody might shake it! Then the sand would fall more quickly.

      I don’t understand what you are saying. [Looks out.] There is a great crowd of people talking to your pupils.

      Oh, run out, Bridget, and see if they have found somebody that all the time I was teaching understood nothing or did not listen!

      It’s a hard thing to be married to a man of learning that must be always having arguments. [Goes out and shouts through the kitchen door.] Don’t be meddling with the bread, children, while I’m out.

      ‘Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti beatæ Mariæ.’ I have forgotten it all. It is thirty years since I have said a prayer. I must pray in the common tongue, like a clown begging in the market, like Teig the Fool! [He prays.] Help me, Father, Son, and Spirit!

      Give me something; give me a penny to buy bacon in the shops, and nuts in the market, and strong drink for the time when the sun grows weak.

      I have no pennies. [To the WISE MAN.] Your pupils cannot find anybody to argue with you. There is nobody in the whole country who has enough belief to fill a pipe СКАЧАТЬ