The Complete Works. William Butler Yeats

life could make the pulse run quickly,

      Even though it were brief, and that you held

      That a free gift was better than a forced.—

      But that’s all over.—I will keep it, too.

      I never gave a gift and took it again.

      If the wild horse should break the chariot-pole,

      It would be punished. Should that be in the oath?

      [Two of the WOMEN, still singing, crouch in front of him holding the bowl over their heads. He spreads his hands over the flame.

      I swear to be obedient in all things

      To Conchubar, and to uphold his children.

      CONCHUBAR.

      We are one being, as these flames are one:

      I give my wisdom, and I take your strength.

      Now thrust the swords into the flame, and pray

      That they may serve the threshold and the hearthstone

      With faithful service.

      [The KINGS kneel in a semicircle before the two WOMEN and CUCHULAIN, who thrusts his sword into the flame. They all put the points of their swords into the flame. The third WOMAN is at the back near the big door.

      CUCHULAIN.

      O pure, glittering ones

      That should be more than wife or friend or mistress,

      Give us the enduring will, the unquenchable hope,

      The friendliness of the sword!—

      [The song grows louder, and the last words ring out clearly. There is a loud knocking at the door, and a cry of ‘Open! open!’

      CONCHUBAR.

      Some king that has been loitering on the way.

      Open the door, for I would have all know

      That the oath’s finished and Cuchulain bound,

      And that the swords are drinking up the flame.

      [The door is opened by the third WOMAN, and a YOUNG MAN with a drawn sword enters.

      YOUNG MAN.

      I am of Aoife’s army.

      [The KINGS rush towards him. CUCHULAIN throws himself between.

      CUCHULAIN.

      Put up your swords.

      He is but one. Aoife is far away.

      YOUNG MAN.

      I have come alone into the midst of you

      To weigh this sword against Cuchulain’s sword.

      CONCHUBAR.

      And are you noble? for if of common seed,

      You cannot weigh your sword against his sword

      But in mixed battle.

      YOUNG MAN.

      I am under bonds

      To tell my name to no man; but it’s noble.

      CONCHUBAR.

      But I would know your name and not your bonds.

      You cannot speak in the Assembly House,

      If you are not noble.

      FIRST OLD KING.

      Answer the High King!

      YOUNG MAN.

      I will give no other proof than the hawk gives—

      That it’s no sparrow!

      [He is silent for a moment, then speaks to all.]

      Yet look upon me, kings.

      I, too, am of that ancient seed, and carry

      The signs about this body and in these bones.

      CUCHULAIN.

      To have shown the hawk’s grey feather is enough,

      And you speak highly, too. Give me that helmet.

      I’d thought they had grown weary sending champions.

      That sword and belt will do. This fighting’s welcome.

      The High King there has promised me his wisdom;

      But the hawk’s sleepy till its well-beloved

      Cries out amid the acorns, or it has seen

      Its enemy like a speck upon the sun.

      What’s wisdom to the hawk, when that clear eye

      Is burning nearer up in the high air?

      [Looks hard at YOUNG MAN; then comes down steps and grasps YOUNG MAN by shoulder.

      Hither into the light.

      [To CONCHUBAR.]

      The very tint

      Of her that I was speaking of but now.

      Not a pin’s difference.

      [To YOUNG MAN.]

      You are from the North

      Where there are many that have that tint of hair—

      Red-brown, the light red-brown. Come nearer, boy,

      For I would have another look at you.

      There’s more likeness—a pale, a stone-pale cheek.

      What brought you, boy? Have you no fear of death?

      YOUNG MAN.

      Whether I live or die is in the gods’ hands.

      CUCHULAIN.

      That is all words, all words; a young man’s talk.

      I am their plough, their harrow, their very strength;

      For he that’s in the sun begot this body

      Upon a mortal woman, and I have heard tell

      It seemed as if he had outrun the moon;

      That he must follow always through waste heaven,

      He loved so happily. He’ll be but slow

      To break a tree that was so sweetly planted.

      Let’s see that arm. I’ll see it if I choose.

      That arm had a good father and a good mother,

      But it is not like this.

      YOUNG MAN.

      You are mocking me;

      You think I am not worthy to be fought.

      But I’ll not wrangle but with this talkative knife.

      CUCHULAIN.

      Put up your sword; I am not mocking you.

      I’d have you for my friend, but if it’s not

      Because you have a hot heart and a cold eye,

      I cannot tell the reason.

      [To CONCHUBAR.] He has got her fierceness,

      And nobody is as fierce as those pale women.

      But I will keep him with me, Conchubar,

      That he may set my memory upon her

      When the day’s fading.—You will stop with us,

      And we will hunt the deer and the wild bulls;

      And, when we have grown weary, light our fires

      Between the wood and water, or on some mountain