He raises his sword.

CIARAN.

(aside)

I dare not speak. My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?

IOLLANN BEAG.

Fear not, little Master, I remember the word you taught me . . . Young Michael, stand near me!

The figure of a mighty Warrior, winged, and clothed in light, seems to stand beside the boy. Ciaran bends on one knee.

DAIRE.

Who art thou, O Soldier?

MICHAEL.

I am he that waiteth at the portal. I am he that hasteneth. I am he that rideth before the squadron. I am he that holdeth a shield over the retreat of man's host when Satan cometh in war. I am he that turneth and smiteth. I am he that is Captain of the Host of God.

Daire bends slowly on one knee.

CIARAN.

The Seraphim and the Cherubim stand horsed. I hear the thunder of their coming . . .O Splendour!

He falls forward, dead.

CURTAIN

Iosagán

CHARACTERS

IOSAGÁN

OLD MATTHIAS

THE PRIEST

BOYS:---DARAGH, PADRAIC, COILIN, CUIMIN, FEICHIN, EOGHAN

Daragh and Padraic are a little older than the other boys

PLACE---A sea-strand beside a village in Iar-Connacht

TIME---The present

IOSAGAN, loving diminutive of Íosa; `Jesukin' (`Ísuccán') is the name of the Child Jesus in the exquisite hymn attributed to St. Ita, b. 470, d. 580, A.D.---Author's Note.

SCENE I

A sea-strand heside a village in Iar-Connacht. A house on the right-hand side. The sound of a bell comes east, very clearly. The door of the house is opened. An aged man, old Matthias, comes out on the door-flag and stands for a spell looking down the road. He sits then on a chair that is outside the door, his two hands gripping a stick, his head bent, and he listening attentively to the sound of the bell. The bell stops ringing. Daragh, Padraic and Coilin come up from the sea and they putting on their share of clothes after bathing.

DARAGH.

(stretching his finger towards the sea)

The flowers are white in the fisherman's garden.

PADRAIC.

They are, maise.

COILIN.

Where are they?

Daragh.

See them out on the sea.

COILIN.

Those are not white flowers. Those are white horses.

DARAGH.

They're like white flowers.

COILIN.

No; Old Matthias says those are the white horses that go galloping across the sea from the Other Country.

PADRAIC.

I heard Iosagan saying they were flowers.

COILIN.

What way would flowers grow on the sea?

PADRAIC.

And what way would horses travel on the sea?

COILIN.

Easy, if they were fairy horses would be in them.

PADRAIC.

And wouldn't flowers grow on the sea as easy, if they were fairy flowers would be in them? Isn't it often you saw the water-lilies on Loch Ellery? And couldn't they grow on the sea as well as on the lake?

COILIN.

I don't know if they could.

PADRAIC.

They could, maise.

DARAGH.

The sea was fine to-day, lad.

COILIN.

It was, but it was devilish cold.

PADRAIC.

Why wouldn't you be cold when you'd only go into your knees?

COILIN.

By my word, I was afraid the waves would knock me down if I'd go in any further. They were terrible big.

DARAGH.

That's what I like, lad. Do you mind yon terrible big one that came over our heads?

PADRAIC.

Aye, and Coilin screaming out he was drowned.

COILIN.

It went down my throat; it did that, and it nearly smothered me.

PADRAIC.

Sure, you had your mouth open, and you shouting. It would be a queer story if it didn't go down your throat.

COILIN.

Yon one gave me enough. I kept out of their way after that.

DARAGH.

Have the other lads on them yet?

PADRAIC.

Aye. Here they are.

COILIN.

Look at Feichin's hair!

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 532