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قديم 03-26-2010, 07:15 AM   المشاركة رقم: 4
الكاتب
~ A7lA DoNiA ~
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التسجيل: Mar 2010
العضوية: 43
المشاركات: 200
بمعدل : 0.04 يوميا
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الإتصال ~ A7lA DoNiA ~ غير متواجد حالياً


كاتب الموضوع : ~ A7lA DoNiA ~ المنتدى : نافذة الأدب الأنجليزى
افتراضي


CATHLEEN: (in a low voice) The Lord spare us, Nora! Isn't it a queer hard thing to say if it's his they are surely?

NORA: I'll get his shirt off the hook the way we can put the one flannel on the other. (She looks through some clothes hanging in the corner) It's not with them, Cathleen, and where will it be?

CATHLEEN: I'm thinking Bartley put it on him in the morning, for his own shirt was heavy with the salt in it. (Pointing to the corner) There's a bit of a sleeve was of the same stuff. Give me that and it will do.

[NORA brings it to her and they compare the flannel.]

CATHLEEN: It's the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself, aren't there great rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man may have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?

NORA: (who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying out) It's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul and what will herself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?

CATHLEEN: (taking the stocking) It's a plain stocking.

NORA: It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put up three score stitches, and I dropped four of them.

CATHLEEN: (counts the stitches) It's that number is in it. (Crying out) Ah, Nora, isn't it a bitter thing to think of him floating that way to the far north, and no one to keen him but the black hags that do be flying on the sea?

NORA: (swinging herself round, and throwing out her arms on the clothes) And isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left of a man who was a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt and a plain stocking?

CATHLEEN: (after an instant) Tell me is herself coming, Nora? I hear a little sound on the path.

NORA: (looking out) She is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.

CATHLEEN: Put these things away before she'll come in. Maybe it's easier she'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on we've heard anything the time he's on the sea.

NORA: (helping CATHLEEN to close the bundle) We'll put them here in the corner.

[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. CATHLEEN goes back to the spinning wheel.]

NORA: Will she see it was crying I was?

CATHLEEN: Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not be on you.

[NORA sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. MAURYA comes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her stool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still in her hand. The girls look at each other, and NORA points to the bundle of bread.]

CATHLEEN: (offer spinning for a moment) You didn't give him his bit of bread?

[MAURYA begins to keen softly, without turning round.]

CATHLEEN: Did you see him riding down?

[MAURYA goes on keening.]

CATHLEEN: (a little impatiently) God forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell what you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done? Did you see Bartley, I'm saying to you.

MAURYA: (with a weak voice) My heart's broken from this day.

CATHLEEN: (as before) Did you see Bartley?

MAURYA: I seen the fearfulest thing.

CATHLEEN: (leaves her wheel and looks out) God forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the gray pony behind him.

MAURYA: (starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her white tossed hair; with a frightened voice) The gray pony behind him.

CATHLEEN: (coming to the fire) What is it ails you, at all?

MAURYA: (speaking very slowly) I've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride Dara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.

CATHLEEN AND NORA: Uah.

[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]

NORA: Tell us what it is you seen.

MAURYA: I went down to the spring-well, and I stood there saying a prayer to myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with the gray pony behind him. (She puts up her hands, as if to hide something from her eyes.) The Son of God spare us, Nora!

CATHLEEN: What is it you seen?

MAURYA: I seen Michael himself.

CATHLEEN: (speaking softly) You did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after being found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace of God.

MAURYA: (a little defiantly) I'm after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came first on the red mare; and I tried to say "God speed you," but something choked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and, "The blessing of God on you," says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and I crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine clothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.

CATHLEEN: (begins to keen) It's destroyed we are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.

NORA: Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her destitute with no son living?

MAURYA: (in a low voice, but clearly) It's little the like of him knows of the sea.... Bartley will be lost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of the white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and a husband's father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though it was a hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the world--and some of them were found and some of them were not found, but they're gone now, the lot of them.... There were Stephen, and Shawn, were lost in the great wind, and found after in the Bay of Gregory of the Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on the one plank, and in by that door.

[She pauses for a moment, the girls start as if they heard something through the door that is half-open behind them.]

NORA: (in a whisper) Did you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the northeast?

CATHLEEN: (in a whisper) There's someone after crying out by the seashore.

MAURYA: (continues without hearing anything) There was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in a dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went up. There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over. I was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees, and I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and they crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and there were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half of a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and leaving a track to the door.

[She pauses again with her hand stretched out towards the door. It opens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the threshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats over their heads.]












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