The Complete Works. William Butler Yeats

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      Make haste, and get the clapper from the bell!

      BRIAN.

       [Putting last of food into basket.]

      What do the great and powerful care for rights

      That have no armies!

      [CHAMBERLAIN begins shoving them out with his staff.

      MAYOR.

      My lord, I am not to blame.

      I’m the King’s man, and they attacked me for it.

      BRIAN.

      We have our prayers, our curses and our prayers,

      And we can give a great name or a bad one.

      [MAYOR is shoving BRIAN out before him with one hand. He keeps his face to CHAMBERLAIN, and keeps bowing. The CHAMBERLAIN shoves him with his staff.

      MAYOR.

      We could not make the poet eat, my lord.

      [CHAMBERLAIN shoves him with staff.

      Much honoured [is shoved again]—honoured to speak with you, my lord;

      But I’ll go find the girl that he’s to marry.

      She’s coming, but I’ll hurry her, my lord.

      Between ourselves, my lord [is shoved again], she is a great coaxer.

      Much honoured, my lord. O, she’s the girl to do it;

      For when the intellect is out, my lord,

      Nobody but a woman’s any good.

      [Is shoved again.

      Much honoured, my lord [is shoved again], much honoured, much honoured!

      [Is shoved out, shoving BRIAN out before him.

      [All through this scene, from the outset of the quarrel, SEANCHAN has kept his face turned away, or hidden in his cloak. While the CHAMBERLAIN has been speaking, the SOLDIER and the MONK have come out of the palace. The MONK stands on top of steps at one side, SOLDIER a little down steps at the other side. COURT LADIES are seen at opening in the palace curtain behind SOLDIER. CHAMBERLAIN is in the centre.

      CHAMBERLAIN.

       [To SEANCHAN.]

      Well, you must be contented, for your work

      Has roused the common sort against the King,

      And stolen his authority. The State

      Is like some orderly and reverend house,

      Wherein the master, being dead of a sudden,

      The servants quarrel where they have a mind to,

      And pilfer here and there.

      [Pause, finding that SEANCHAN does not answer.

      How many days

      Will you keep up this quarrel with the King,

      And the King’s nobles, and myself, and all,

      Who’d gladly be your friends, if you would let them?

      [Going near to MONK.

      If you would try, you might persuade him, father.

      I cannot make him answer me, and yet

      If fitting hands would offer him the food,

      He might accept it.

      MONK.

      Certainly I will not.

      I’ve made too many homilies, wherein

      The wanton imagination of the poets

      Has been condemned, to be his flatterer.

      If pride and disobedience are unpunished

      Who will obey?

      CHAMBERLAIN.

       [Going to other side towards SOLDIER.]

      If you would speak to him,

      You might not find persuasion difficult,

      With all the devils of hunger helping you.

      SOLDIER.

      I will not interfere, and if he starve

      For being obstinate and stiff in the neck,

      ’Tis but good riddance.

      CHAMBERLAIN.

      One of us must do it.

      It might be, if you’d reason with him, ladies,

      He would eat something, for I have a notion

      That if he brought misfortune on the King,

      Or the King’s house, we’d be as little thought of

      As summer linen when the winter’s come.

      FIRST GIRL.

      But it would be the greater compliment

      If Peter’d do it.

      SECOND GIRL.

      Reason with him, Peter.

      Persuade him to eat; he’s such a bag of bones!

      SOLDIER.

      I’ll never trust a woman’s word again!

      There’s nobody that was so loud against him

      When he was at the table; now the wind’s changed,

      And you that could not bear his speech or his silence,

      Would have him there in his old place again;

      I do believe you would, but I won’t help you.

      SECOND GIRL.

      Why will you be so hard upon us, Peter?

      You know we have turned the common sort against us,

      And he looks miserable.

      FIRST GIRL.

      We cannot dance,

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