title: Where there is nothing ...
text: 3^_ 0' 'OK >*^ 1°^ sP•^!> >- \ .<^*^ ^'^QK'. ^^ ^^ ' *: /.•i:^--*-e, /.i^>>o .**\c:;4.%v o A^*^ * -j;^ '^^ 5vl V '^Mm^j'^ ^^-AQ^ o^^^^R'^ v^.-^' "^j^im^^*. ^-p. 'oK C^_ '■ ^r^^ o^?;^^^'" '^b V* :iM^^< '^^^ o^-^Ml^,« v>t ^^--^^ q,. *'•«••*' ^0 ^ <K '.• ^°-^ '■ •^ A ♦ = A^^ .•^£s55^^'^ '^ A ^^ O M O ' ^ .c,''^^. ^-^^^^ A^-"^ o PLAYS FOR AN IRISH THEATRE VOLUME I WHERE THERE IS NOTHING _^rt^^ \yHERE THERE IS NOTHING BEING VOLUME ONE OF PLAYS FOR AN IRISH THEATRE BY W. B. YEATS ^^ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 1903 All rights reserved THE LibRARY OF CONGRESS, Two Copies Received MAY n 1903 Copyright Entry CLAS* -^^ XXc. No. ^ w- ^ v COPY B. TJf Copyright, 1903, By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped May, 1903. Nortooot) ^tCBB J. S. Gushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. BY THE SAME WRITER: THE SECRET ROSE THE CELTIC TWILIGHT POEMS THE WIND AMONG TH^ REEDS THE SHADOWY WATERS IDEAS OF GOOD AND EVIL DEDICATION OF VOLUMES ONE AND TWO OF PLAYS FOR AN IRISH THEATRE My dear Lady Gregory I dedicate to you two volumes of plays that are in part your own. When I was a boy I used to wander about at Rosses Point and Ballisodare listening to old songs and stories. I wrote down what I heard and made poems out of the stories or put them into the little chapters of the first edition of "The Celtic Twilight," and that is how I began to write in the Irish way. 7 8 DEDICATION Then I went to London to make my living, and though I spent a part of every year in Ireland and tried to keep the old life in my memory by reading every country tale I could find in books or old newspapers, I began to forget the true countenance of country life. The old tales were still alive for me indeed, but with a new, strange, half unreal life, as if in a wizard's glass, until at last, when I had finished "The Secret Rose," and was half-way through " The Wind Among the Reeds," a wise woman in her trance told me that my inspiration was from the moon, and that I should always live close to water, for my work was getting too full of those little jewelled thoughts that come from the sun and have no nation. 1 have no DEDICATION 9 need to turn to my books of astrology to know that the common people are under the moon, or to Porphyry to remember the image-making power of the waters. Nor did I doubt the entire truth of what she said to me, for my head was full of fables that I had no longer the knowledge and emotion to write. Then you brought me with you to see your friends in the cottages, and to talk to old wise men on Slieve Echtge, and we gathered together, or you gath- ered for me, a great number of stories and traditional beliefs. You taught me to understand again, and much more perfectly than before, the true counte- nance of country life. One night I had a dream almost as distinct as a vision, of a cottage where 10 DEDICATION there was well-being and firelight and talk of a marriage, and into the midst of that cottage there came an old woman in a long cloak. She was Ireland her- self, that Cathleen ni Hoolihan for whom so many songs have been sung and about whom so many stories have been told and for whose sake so many have gone to their death. I thought if I could write this out as a little play I could make others see my dream as I had seen it, but I could not get down out of that high window of dramatic verse, and in spite of all you had done for me I had not the country speech. One has to live among the people, like you, of whom an old man said in my hearing, " She has been a serving-maid among us," before one can think the thoughts DEDICATION 11 of the people and speak with their tongue. We turned my dream into the little play, " Cathleen ni Hoolihan," and when we gave it to the little theatre in Dublin and found that the working people liked it, you helped me to put my other dramatic fables into speech. Some of these have already been acted, but some may not be acted for a long time, but all seem to me, though they were but a part of a summer's work, to have more of that countenance of coun- try life than anything I have done since I was a boy. W. B. YEATS February, 1903 Paul Ruttledgb, a Country Gentleman Thomas Ruttledge, his Brother Mrs. Thomas Ruttledge Mr. Dow^ler Mr. Algie 1 _, -. I Magistrates Colonel Lawlet Mr. Joyce J Mr. Green, a Stipendiary Magistrate Sabina Silver Molly the Scold Charlie Ward Paddy Cockfight Tommy the Song Johneen, etc. Father Jerome Father Aloysius Father Colman Father Bartley J Other Friars, and a crowd of couNTiiTMES Tinkers Friars 12 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING ACT I Scene : A lawn with croquet hoops, garden chairs and tables. Door into house at left. Gate through hedge at hacTc. The hedge is clipped into shapes of farmyard fowl. Paul Ruttledge is clipping at the hedge in front. A table with toys on it. Thomas Ruttledge [coming out on steps']. Paul, are you coming in to lunch ? Paul Ruttledge. No ; you can en- 13 14 WHERE THEBE 18 NOTHING tertain these people very well. They are your friends : you understand theni. Thomas Ruttledge. You might as well come in. You have been clipping at that old hedge long enough. Paul Ruttledge. You need n't worry about me. I should be bored if I went in, and I don't want to be bored more than is necessary. Thomas Ruttledge. What is that creature you are clipping at now ? I can't make it out. Paul Ruttledge. Oh, it is a Cochin China fowl, an image of some of our neighbours, like the others. Thomas Ruttledge. I don't see any likeness to anyone. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 15 Paul Ruttledge. Oh, yes there is, if you could see their minds instead of their bodies. That comb now — Mrs. Ruttledge [coming out on steps]. Thomas, are you coming in ? Thomas Ruttledge. Yes, I 'm com- ing ; but Paul won't come. [Thomas Ruttledge goes out Mrs. Ruttledge. Oh ! this is non- sense, Paul ; you must come. All these men will think it so strange if you don't. It is nonsense to think you will be bored. Mr. Green is talking in the most interesting way. Paul Ruttledge. Oh ! I know Green's conversation very well. Mrs. Ruttledge. And Mr. Joyce, 16 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING- your old guardian. Thomas says he was always so welcome in your father's time, he will think it so queer. Paul Ruttledge. Oh ! I know all their virtues. There 's Dowler, who puts away thousands a year in Con- sols, and Algie, who tells everybody all about it. Have I forgotten any- body ? Oh, yes ! Colonel Lawley, who used to lift me up by the ears, when I was a child, to see Africa. No, Georgina, I know all their virtues, but I 'm not coming in. Mrs. Ruttledge. I can't imagine why you won't come in and be sociable. Paul Ruttledge. You see I can't. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 17 I have something to do here. I have to finish this comb. You see it is a beautiful comb ; but the wings are very short. The poor creature can't fly. Mrs. Ruttledge. But can't you finish that after lunch ? Paul Ruttledge. No, I have sworn. Mrs, Ruttledge. Well, I am sorry. You are always doing uncomfortable things. I must go in to the others. I wish you would have come. ^She goes in Jerome [who has come to gate as she disajjfpears]. Paul, you there ! that is lucky. I was just going to ask , for you. Paul Ruttledge [JUnging dipjper 18 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING mvay, and jumping up]. Oh, Father Jerome, I am delighted to see you. I haven 't seen you for ever so long. Come and have a talk ; or will you have some lunch ? Jerome. No, thank you ; I w^ill stay a minute, but I w^on't go in. Paul Ruttledge. That is just as well, for you would be bored to death. There has been a meeting of magis- trates in the village, and my brother has brought them all in to lunch. Jerome. I am collecting for the monastery, and my donke}^ has gone lame ; I have had to put it up in the village. I thought you might be able to lend me one to go on with. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 19 Paul Ruttledge. Of course, I 'm delighted to lend you that or anything else. I '11 go round to the yard with you and order it. But sit down here first. What have you been doing all this time ? Jerome. Oh, we have been very busy. You know we are going to put up new buildings. Paul Ruttledge [absent-mindedly']. No, I did n't know that. Jerome. Yes, our school is increas- ing so much we are getting a grant for technical instruction. Some of the Fathers are learning handicrafts. Fa- ther Aloysius is going to study indus- tries in France ; but we are all busy. 20 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING We are changing with the times, we are beginning to do useful things. Paul Ruttledge. Useful things, I wonder what you have begun to call useful things. Do you see those marks over there on the grass? Jerome. What marks? Paul Ruttledge. Those marks over there, those little marks of scratching. Jerome [going over to the place Paul Ruttledge has pointed out]. I don't see anything. Paul Ruttledge. You are getting blind, Jerome. Can't you see that the poultry have been scratching there ? Jerome. No, the grass is perfectly smooth. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 21 Paul Ruttledge. Well, the marks are there, whether you see them or not ; for Mr, Green and Mr. Dowler and Mr. Algie and the rest of them run out of their houses when nobody is looking, in their real shapes, shapes like those on my hedge. And then they begin to scratch, they scratch all together, they don't dig but they scratch, and all the time their mouths keep going like that. ^Jle holds out his hand and opens and shuts his Jmgers like a bird's hill. Jerome. Oh, Paul, you are making fun of me. Paul Ruttledge. Of course I am only talking in parables. I think all the people I meet are like farmyard 22 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING creatures, they have forgotten their free- dom, their human bodies are a disguise, a pretence they keep up to deceive one another. Jerome [sittifig down]. What is wrong with you ? Paul Ruttledge. Oh, nothing of course. You see how happy I am. I have a good house and a good prop- erty, and my brother and his charming wife have come to look after me. You see the toys of their children here and everywhere. What should be wrong with me ? Jerome. I know you too well not to see that there is something wrong with you. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 23 Paul Ruttledge. There is nothing except that I have been thinking a good deal lately. Jerome. Perhaps your old dreams or visions or whatever they were have come back. They always made you restless. You ought to see more of your neighbours. Paul Ruttledge. There 's nothing interesting but human nature, and that 's in the single soul, but these neighbours of mine they think in flocks and roosts. Jerome. You are too hard on them. They are busy men, they have n't much time for thought, I daresay. Paul Ruttledge. That 's what I complain of. When I hear these people 24 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING talking I always hear some organized or vested interest chirp or quack, as it does in the newspapers. Algie chirps. Even you, Jerome, though I have not found your armorial beast, are getting a little monastic ; when I have found it I will put it among the others. There is a place for it there, but the worst of it is that it will take so long getting nice and green. Jekome. I don't know what creature you could make for me. Paul Ruttledge. I am not sure yet ; I think it might be a pigeon, something cooing and gentle, and al- ways coming home to the dovecot ; not to the wild woods but to the dovecot. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 25 Jerome. I wonder what crea '^re you yourself are like. Paul Ruttledge. I daresay I am like some creature or other, for very few of us are altogether men; but if I am, I would like to be one of the wild sort. You are right about my dreams. They have been coming back lately. Do you remember those strange ones I had at college ? Jerome. Those visions of pulling something down ? Paul Ruttledge. Yes, they have come back to me lately. Sometimes I dream I am pulling down my own house, and sometimes it is the whole world that I am pulling down. ^Stand- 26 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING ing uj)] I would like to have great iron claws, and to put them about the pil- lars, and to pull and pull till every- thing fell into pieces. Jerome. I don't see what good that would do you. Paul Ruttledge. Oh, yes it would. When everything was pulled down we would have more room to get drunk in, to drink contentedly out of the cup of lifC;, out of the drunken cup of life. Jerome. That is a terribly wild thought. I hope you don't believe all you say. Paul Ruttledge. Perhaps not. I only know that I want to upset every- thing about me. Have you not noticed WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 27 that it is a complaint many of us have in this country ? and whether it comes from love or hate I don't know, they are so mixed together here. Jerome. I wish you would come and talk to our Superior. He has a perfect gift for giving advice. Paul Ruttledge. Well, we '11 go to the yard now. ^ffe gets tip Jerome. I have often thought you would come to the monastery yourself in the end. You were so much the most pious of us all at school. You would be happy in a monastery. Some- thing is always happening there. Paul Ruttledge [as they go up the garden]. I daresay, I daresay ; but I 28 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING am not even sure that I am a Chris- tian. Jerome. Well, anyway, I wish that you would come and talk to our Superior. \T^^y 90 out Charlie Ward and Boy enter hy th» path beyond the hedge a/nd stand at gate. Charlie Ward. No use going up there, Johneen, it 's too grand a place, it 's a dog they might let loose on us. But I '11 tell you what, just slip round to the back door and ask do they want any cans mended. Johneen. Let you take the rabbit then we 're after taking out of the snare. I can't bring it round with me. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 29 Charlie Ward, Faith, you can't. They think as bad of us taking a rab- bit that was fed and minded by God as if it was of their own rearing ; give it here to me. It 's hardly it will go in my pocket, it 's as big as a hare. It 's next my skin I '11 have to put it, or it might be noticed on me. [Boy ffoes out [Charlie Ward is struggling to put rahhit inside his coat when Paul Ruttledge comes hack. Paul Ruttledge. Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want to come in ? Charlie Ward. I 'm a tinker by trade, your honour. I wonder is there 30 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING e'er a tin can the maids in the house might want mended or any chairs to be bottomed? Paul Ruttledge. A tinker ; where do you live? Charlie Ward. Faith, I don't"*stop long in any place. I go about like the crows ; picking up my way of living like themselves. Paul Ruttledge [opening gate]. Come inside here. [Charlie Ward hesitates] Come in, you are welcome. \Puts his hand on his shoulder. Charlie Ward tries to close his shirt over rabbit. Paul Ruttledge. Ah, you have a rabbit there. The keeper told me he WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 31 had come across some snares in my woods. Charlie Ward. If he did, sir, it was no snare of mine he found. This is M'~ rabbit I bought in the town of Garreen early this morning. Sixpence I was made give for it, and to mend a tin can along with that. Paul Ruttledge [totiehing rabbit]. It 's warm still, however. But the day is hot. Never mind ; you are quite welcome to it. I daresay you will have a cheery meal of it by the road- side ; my dinners are often tiresome enough. I often wish I could change — look here, will you change clothes with me? 32 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Charlie Ward. Faith, I 'd swap soon enough if you were n't humbug- ging me. It 's I that would look well with that suit on me ! The peelers would all be touching their caps to me. You 'd see them running out for me to sign summonses for them. Paul Ruttledge. But I am not humbugging. I am in earnest. Charlie Ward. In earnest ! Then when I go back I '11 commit Paddy Cockfight to prison for hitting me yes- terday. Paul Ruttledge. You don't be- lieve me, but I will explain. I 'm dead sick of this life ; I want to get away ; I want to escape — as you say, WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 33 to pick up my living like the crows for a while. Charlie Ward. To make your es- cape. Oh ! that 's different. ^Comi/?ig closer] But what is it you did ? You don't look like one that would be in trouble. But sometimes a gentleman gets a bit wild when he has a drop taken. Paul Ruttledge. Well, never mind. I will explain better while we are changing. Come over here to the pot- ting shed. Make haste, those magis- trates will be coming out. Charlie Ward. The magistrates ! Are they after you ? Hurry on, then ! Faith, they won't know you with this 34 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING coat. [Looking at his rays] It 's a pity I did 'nt put on ray old one coming out this morning. \They go out tJirough the garden. Thomas Ruttledge comes down stejps from house with Colonel Lawley and Mr. Green. Mr. Green. Yes, they have made me President of the County Horticul- tural Society. My speech was quite a success ; it was punctuated with ap- plause. I said I looked upon the appointment not as a tribute to my own merits, but to their public spirit and to the Society, which I assured them had come to stay. Colonel Lawley. What has become WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 35 of Paul and Father Jerome ? I thought I heard their voices out here, and now they are conspicuous by their absence. Thomas Ruttledge. He seems to have no friend he cares for but that Father Jerome. Mr. Green. I wish he would come more into touch with his fellows. Colonel Lawley. What a pity he didn 't go into the army. I wish he would join the militia. Every man should try to find some useful sphere of employment. Mr. Green. Thomas, your brother will never come to see me, though I often ask him. He would find the 86 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING best people — people worth meeting — at my house. I wonder if he would join the Horticultural Society ? I know I voice the sentiments of all the members in saying this. I spoke to a number of them at the function the other day. Thomas Ruttledge. I wish he would join something. Joyce wants him to join the Masonic Lodge. It is not a right life for him to keep hanging about the place and doing nothing. Mr. Green. He won 't even come and sit on the Bench. It 's not fair to leave so much of the work to me. I ought to get all the support possible from local men. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 3T [Mrs. Ruttledge comes down steps with Mr. Dowler, Mr. Algie and Mr. Joyce. She is walk- ing in front. Mrs. Ruttledge \to Thomas Rutt- ledge]. Oh ! Thomas, is n't it too bad, Paul has lent the donkey to that friar. I wanted Mr. Joyce to see the children in their panniers. Do speak to him about it. Thomas Ruttledge. Well, the don- key belongs to him, and for the matter of that so does the house and the place. It would be rather hard on him not to be able to use things as he likes. Mr. Algie. What a pleasure it must be to Paul to have you and the little 38 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING ones living here. He certainly owes you a debt of gratitude. Man was not born to live alone. Mrs. Ruttledge. Well, I think we have done him good. He hasn't done anything for years, except mope about the house and cut the bushes into those absurd shapes, and now we are try- ing to make him live more like other people. Colonel Lawley. He was always inclined to be a bit of a faddist. Mrs. Ruttledge [to Mr. Algie]. Do let me give you a lesson in croquet. I have learned all the new rules. [To Mr. Joyce] Please bring me that bas- ket of balls. [To Colonel Lawley] WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 39 Will you bring me the mallets ? Yes, I am afraid he is a faddist. We have done our best for him, but he ought to be more with men. Mr. Algie. Yes, Mr. Dowler was just saying he ought to try and be made a director of the new railway. Colonel Lawley. The militia — the militia. Mr. Joyce. It 's a great help to a man to belong to a Masonic Lodge. Mr. Green. The Horticultural Society is in want of new members. Mrs. Ruttledge. Well, I wish he would join something. 40 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Enter Paul Ruttledge in tinker's clothes^ ca/rrying a rabhit m his hand. Charlie Ward follows in Paul's clothes. All stand aghast. Mr. Joyce. Good God ! [Drops hasTcet. Colonel Lawley, who has mallets in his ham^d, at sight of Paul Ruttledge drops them, amd stands still. Mrs. Ruttledge. Paul ! are you out of your mind ? Thomas Ruttledge. For goodness' sake, Paul, don't make such a fool of yourself. Mrs. Ruttledge. What on earth has happened, and who on earth is that man ? WHEBE THERE IS NOTHING 41 Paul Ruttledge [opens gate for tinker. To Charlie Ward]. Wait for me, my friend, down there by the cross-road. [Charlie Ward goes out Mr. Green. Has he stolen your clothes ? Paul Ruttledge. Oh ! it 's all right ; I have changed clothes with him. I am going to join the tinkers. All. To join the tinkers ! Paul Ruttledge. Life is getting too monotonous ; I would give it a little variety. [To Mr. Green] As you would say, it has been running in grooves. Mr. Joyce \to Mrs. Ruttledge]. 42 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING This is only his humbugging talk ; he never believes what he says. [Paul Ruttledge goes towo/rds the steps. Mrs. Ruttledge. Surely you are not going into the house with those clothes ? Paul Ruttledge. You are quite right. Thomas will go in for me. [Jb Thomas Ruttledge] Just go to my study, will you, and bring me my despatch-box ; I want something from it before I go. Thomas Ruttledge. Where are you going to ? I wish you would tell me what you are at. Paul Ruttledge. The despatch-box is on the top of the bureau. [Thomas Ruttledge goes out WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 43 Mr. Joyce. What does all this mean ? Paul Ruttledgb. I will explain. l^Sits down on the edge of iron tahle'^ Did you never wish to be a witch, and to ride through the air on a white horse ? Mr. Joyce. I can't say I ever did. Paul Ruttledge. Never ? Only think of it — to ride in the darkness under the stars, to make one's horse leap from cloud to cloud, to watch the sea glittering under one's feet and the mountain tops going by. Colonel Lawley. But what has this to do with the tinkers ? Paul Ruttledge. As I cannot find 44 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING a broomstick that will turn itself into a white horse, I am going to turn tinker. Mr. Dowler. I suppose you have some picturesque idea about these peo- ple, but I assure you, you are quite wrong. They are nothing but poachers. Mr. Algie. They are nothing but thieves. Mr. Joyce. They are the worst class in the country. Paul Ruttledge. Oh, I know that ; they are quite lawless. That is what attracts me to them. I am going to be irresponsible. Mr. Green. One cannot escape from responsibility by joining a set of vagabonds. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 45 Paul Ruttledge. Vagabonds — that is it. I want to be a vagabond, a wan- derer. As I can't leap from cloud to cloud I want to wander from road to road. That little path there by the clipped hedge goes up to the highroad. I want to go up that path and to walk along tlie highroad, and so on and on and on, and to know all kinds of peo- ple. Did you ever think that the roads are the only things that are endless ; that one can walk on and on and on, and never be stopped by a gate or a wall ? They are the serpent of eternity. I wonder they have never been wor- shipped. What are the stars beside them ? They never meet one another. 46 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING The roads are the only things that are infinite. They are all endless. Mrs. Ruttledge. But they must stop when they come to the sea ? Paul Ruttledge. Ah ! you are always so wise. Mr. Joyce. Stop talking nonsense, Paul, and throw away those filthy things. Paul Ruttledge. That would be setting cleanliness before godliness. I have begun the regeneration of my soul. Mr. Dowler. I don't see what god- liness has got to do with it. Mr. Algie. Nor I either, Paul Ruttledge. There was a saint who said, " I must rejoice without ceas- WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 47 ing, although the world shudder at my joy." He did not think he could save his soul without it. I agree with him, and as 1 was discontented here, I thought it time to make a change. Like that worthy man, I must be con- tent to shock my friends. Mk. Dowler. But you had every- thing here you could want. Paul Ruttledge. That 's just it. You who are so wealthy, you of all people should understand that I want to get rid of all that responsibility, answering letters and so on. It is not worth the trouble of being rich if one has to answ^er letters. Could you ever understand, Georgina, that 48 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING one gets tired of many charming things ? There are family responsi- bilities, [to Mk. Joyce] but I can see that you, who were my guardian, sym- pathize with me in that. Mr. Joyce. Indeed I do not. Mrs. Ruttledge. I should think you could be cheerful without ceasing to be a gentleman. Paul Ruttledge. You are thinking of my clothes. We must feel at ease with the people we live amongst. I shall feel at ease with the great multi- tude in these clothes. I am beginning to be a man of the world. I am the beggarman of all the ages — I have a notion Homer wrote something about me. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 49 Mr. Dowler. He is either making fun of us or talking great rot. I can't listen to any more of this non- sense. I can't see why a man with property can't let well alone. Algie, are you coming my way ? [They both go into the house, and come out presently with umhrella and coat. Mr. Green. Depend upon it, he 's going to write a book. There was a man who made quite a name for himself by sleeping in a casual ward. Paul Ruttledge. Oh ! no, I 'm not going to write about it ; if one writes one can do nothing else. I am going 50 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING to express myself in life. [Jb Thomas RuTTLEDGE who has returned with hox\ I hope soon to live by the work of my hands, but every trade has to be learned, and I must take something to start with. [To Mrs. Ruttledge] Do you think you will have any kettles to mend when I come this way again ? [He has taken low from Thomas Ruttledge and unlocked it. Thomas Ruttledge. I can't make head or tail of what you are at. Colonel Lawley. What he is at is fads. Mr. Green. I don't think his motive is far to seek. He has some idea of going back to the dark ages. Rousseau WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 51 had some idea of the same kind, but it did n't worli. Paul Ruttledge. Yes ; I want to go back to the dark ages. Mr. Green. Do you want to lose all the world has gained since then ? Paul Ruttledge. What has it gained ? I am among those who think that sin and death came into the world the day Newton ate the apple. [To Mrs. Ruttledge, who is going to speaJcj I know you are going to tell me he only saw it fall. Never mind, it is all the same thing. Mrs. Ruttledge n>eginning to cry~\. Oh ! he is going mad ! Mr. Joyce. I 'm afraid he is really leaving us. 52 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Paul Ruttledge ^who has been look- ing at jpapers^ tearing one or two^ etc., takes out a pachet of notes, which he puts in his hreast^. I daresay this will last me long enough, Thomas. I am not robbing you of very much. Well, good-by. ^Pats him gently on the shoulder^ I must n't forget the rabbit, it may be my dinner to-night ; I wonder who will skin it. Good-by, Colonel, I think I 've aston- ished you to-day. ^Slaps his shoulder^ That was too hard, was it ? Forgive it, you know I 'm a common man now. ^Lifts his hat and goes oiit of gate. Closes it after him, and stands with his hands on it, and speaks loith the voice of a common manj Go on, live in your poultry-yard. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 63 Scratch straw and cluck and cackle at everything that you take for a fox. l^Exit Mr. Joyce [j/oes to Mrs. Ruttledge, who has sat down and is wiping her eyes\ I ara very sorry for this, for his father's sake, but it may be as well in the end. If it comes to the worst, you and Thomas will keep up the family name better than he would have done. Mr. Dowler. He '11 find the poor very different from what he thinks when they pick his pocket. Colonel Lawley. To think that a magistrate should have such fads ! Mr. Green. I venture to say you will see him here in a very different state of mind in a week. 54 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Mr. Algie [who has heen in a hrown studif^. He has done for himself in this world and the next. Why, he won't be asked to a single shoot if this is heard of. Thomas Ruttledge [turning from the gatej. Here are the children, Georgina. Don't say anything before the nurse. Mr. Green. Well, I must be off. [Goes in for stick Mr. Joyce. Just bring me out my coat. Green. [They all prepare to go. Mrs. Rutt- ledge has gone to open gate and children come in, one in a per- ambulator . All gather round them admiringly. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 55 Mr. Joyce. Have you a kiss for god- father to-day ? Mrs. Ruttledge. The poor darlings ! I hope they will never know what has happened. Colonel Lawley. Thank goodness, they have no nonsense in their heads. We know where we are with them. Curtain ACT II Scene : By the roadside. A wall of un- mortared stone in, the haxikground. Tinkers' encampment. Men, woynen and children standing round. Paul Rutt- LEDGE standi/ng hy a jvre. Paul Ruttledge. What do you mean by " tinning " the soldering iron ? Charlie Ward. If the face of it is not well tinned it won't lift the solder. Show me here. \Takes soldering iron from Paul Ruttledge's hand. Paul Ruttledge ^sitting dovjn am,d 66 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 57 drawing a tin can to hijnl. Now, let me see how you mend this hole. It seems easy. I 'm sure I will be able to learn it as well as any of you. [Two tinkers come and stand over him Chablie Ward [pointing to one of thenhj. This, sir, is Tommy the Song. He 's the best singer we have, but the divil a much good he is only that. He 's a great warrant to snare hares. Tommy the Song. Is the gentleman going to join us ? Paul Ruttledge. Indeed I am, if you '11 let me. There 's nothing I 'd like better. Tommy the Song. But are you go- ing to learn the trade ? 58 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Paul Ruttledge. Yes, if you '11 teach me. I 'm sure I '11 make a good tinker. Look at that now, see how I Ve stopped that hole already. Charlie Ward ^taking the can from him and looking at it^. If every can had a little hole in the middle like that, I think you would be able to mend them ; but there 's the straight hole, and the crooked hole, the round hole, the square hole, the angle hole, the bottom hole, the top hole, the side leak, the open leak, the leak-all-round, but I won't frighten you with the names of them all, only this I will say, that, when you 've learned to mend all the leakages in a can — and that should WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 69 take you a year — you 're only in the first day of tlie tinker's week. Tommy the Song. Don't believe him. He 's only humbugging you. It 's not the hardness of the work will daunt you. Paul Ruttledge. Thank you. I was not believing him at all. I 'm quite sure I '11 be able to mend any can at the end of a week, but the bot- toming of them will take longer. I can see that 's not so easy. When will you start to teach me that, Charlie ? Charlie Ward ^as another tinker comes upj. Paddy, here 's the gentleman I was telling you about. He 's going to join us for good and all. \_To Paul 60 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Ruttledge] Wait till we have time and some quiet place, and he '11 show you as good a cockfight as ever you saw. ^A wo7nan comes up^ This is his wife ; Molly the Scold we call her ; faith, she is a better fighter than any cock he ever had in a basket ; he 'd find it hard to shut the lid on her. Molly the Scold. The gentleman seems foolish. Is he all there ? Paddy Cockfight. Stop your chat, Molly, or I '11 hit you a welt. Charlie Ward. Keep your tongue quiet, Molly. If the gentleman has rea- sons for keeping out of the way it is n't for us to be questioning him. [Jb Paul Ruttledge] Don't mind her, WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 61 she 's cross enough, but maybe your own ladies would be cross as well if they saw their young sons dying by the roadside in a little kennel of straw under the ass-cart the way she did ; from first to last. Paul Ruttledge. I suppose you have your troubles like others. But you seem cheerful enough. Charlie Ward. It is n't anything to fret about. Some of us go soon, and some travel the roads for their lifetime. What does it matter when we are under the nettles if it was with a short rope or a long one we w^ere hanged ? Paul Ruttledge. Yes, that is the 62 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING way to take life. What does the length of our rope matter ? Charlie Ward. We have n't time to be thinking of troubles like people that would be shut up in a house. We have the wide world before us to make our living out of. The people of the whole world are begrudging us our living, and we make it out of them for all that. When they will spread currant cakes and feather beds before us, it will be time for us to sit down and fret. Tommy the Song. It 's likely you '11 think the life too hard. Would you like to be passing by houses in the night-time, and the fire shining out of WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 63 them, and you hardly given the loan of a sod to light your pipe, and the rain falling on you ? Paul Ruttledge. Why are the people so much against you ? Tommy the Song. We are not like themselves. It 's little we care about them or they about us. If their saint did curse us itself — Charlie Ward. Stop. I won't have you talking about that story here. Why would they think so much of the curse of one saint, and saints so plenty ? Paddy Cockfight. Where 's the good of a gentleman being here ? He -11 be breaking down on the road. 64 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING It 's on the ass-cart he '11 be wanting to sit. Tommy the Song. Indeed, I don't think he '11 stand the hardship. Paul Ruttledge. Oh, I '11 stand it well enough. Tommy the Song. You 're not like us that were reared to it. You were not born like us with wandering in the heart. Paul Ruttledge. Oh, yes, I have wandering in the heart. I got sick of these lighted rooms you were talking of just now. Charlie Ward. That might be so. It 's the dark is welcome to a man sometimes. WHEEE THERE IS NOTHING 65 Paul Ruttledge. The dark. Yes, I think that is what I want. [Stands upj The dark, where there is nothing that is anything, and nobody that is anybody ; one can be free there, where there is nothing. Well, if you let me stay with you, I don't think you will hear any complaints from me. Charlie Ward, Paddy and the rest of you, I want you to understand that from this out I am one of yourselves. I '11 live as you live and do as you do. [JoHNEEN and other Children come running in. JoHNEEN. I was on the top of the bank and I seen a priest coming down the cross-road with his ass. It 's col- G6 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING lecting he is. We 're going to set our- selves here to beg something from him. Another Child [breathlessly']. And he has a whole lot of things on the ass. A whole lot of things up behind him. Another Child. O boys, O boys, we '11 have our dealing trick out of them yet. The best way '11 be — [He suddenly catches sight of Paul Rutt- ledgeJ Whist, ye divils ye, don't you see the new gentleman ? Paul Ruttledge. Speak out, boys ; don't be afraid of me ; I 'm one of yourselves now. Child. Oh ! but we were going to — But I won't tell you. \To the other Chil- WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 67 dren] Come away here, and we '11 not tell him what we '11 do. Paul Ruttledge [to Charlie Ward], What are they going to do ? They 're putting their heads together. Charlie Ward. They 're going to put a bush across the road, and when the friar gets down to pull it out of the way they '11 snap what they can off the ass, and away with them. Paul Ruttledge. And why would n't they tell me that ? Am I not one of yourselves ? Charlie Ward. Ah ! it 's likely they '11 never trust you. Paul Ruttledge. But they will soon see that I am one of themselves. 68 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Charlie Ward. No ; but that 's the very thing, you 're not one of ourselves. You vv^ere not born on the road, reared on the road, married on the road like us. Paul Ruttledge. Well, it 's too late for me to be reared on the road, but I don't see why I should n't marry on the road like you. I certainly would do it if it would make me one of you. Charlie Ward. It might make you one of us, there 's no doubt about that. It 's the only thing that would do it. Paul Ruttledge. Well, find a wife for me. Charlie Ward. Faith, you have n't far to go to find one. Paddy there will give you over his wife quick WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 69 enough ; he won't make a hard bargain over her. Paul Ruttledge. But I am in earnest. I want to cut myself off from my old life. Charlie Ward. Oh ! I was forget- ting that. Sabina Silver [to Molly]. I wonder what was it he did ? I wonder had he the misfortune to kill anybody ? Charlie Ward \_calUng Sabina over']. Here 's a girl should make a good wife, Sabina Silver her name is. Her father is just dead ; he did n't treat her over well. Sabina Silver [coming over]. What is it? 70 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Charlie Ward. This gentleman wants to speak to you. I think he 's looking out for a wife. Sabina Silver \ham,gvng her head^. Don't be humbugging me. Paul Ruttledge. Indeed he 's not, Sabina. Sabina Silver. You 're only joking a poor girl. Sure, what would make you think of me at all ? Paul Ruttledge. Sabina, have you been always on the road with Charlie Ward and the others ? Sabina Silver. I have, indeed. Paul Ruttledge. And you 'd make a good tinker's wife ? Sabina Silver. You 're joking me. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 71 but I would be a better wife for a tinker than for anyone else. Paul Ruttledge. Sabina, will you marry me ? Sabina Silver. Oh ! but I 'd be afraid. Paul Ruttledge. Why, Sabina ? Sabina Silver. I 'd be afraid you 'd beat me. Charlie Ward. You see her father used to beat her. She 's afraid of the look of a man now. Paul Ruttledge. I would not beat you, Sabina. How can you have got such an idea? Sabina Silver. Will you promise me that you won't beat me ? Will you swear it to me ? 72 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Paul Ruttledge. Of course I will. Sabina Silver [to Charlie Ward]. Will you make him swear it ? Have n't you a little book in your pack ? Bring it out and make him swear to me on it, and you '11 be my witness. Charlie Ward. I think, Sibby, you need not be afraid. Sabina Silver. What 's your name, gentleman ? Paul Ruttledge. My name is Paul. Do you like it ? Sabina Silver. Then I won't marry you, Mr. Paul, till you swear to me upon the book that you will never beat me with any stick that you could call a stick, and that you will never strike a kick on me from behind. WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 73 Paul Ruttledge. Charlie, go and bring out that book to satisfy her. Of course I swear that ; it is absurd. [Charlie Ward brings the hook out of his pack. Paul Ruttledge. I swear, Sabina, that I will never strike you with any stick of any kind, and that I will never kick you. There, will that do ? \IIe takes hook and kisses it Sabina Silver. I misdoubt you. Kiss the book again. [Paul Ruttledge kisses it Charlie Ward. That 's all right. A Child \crying from a distancel. He 's coming now, the priest 's coming ! Paul Ruttledge. Then the priest 74 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING will marry us. That comes in very handy. Charlie Ward ^scorrifullyj. A priest marry you, indeed he '11 do nothing of the kind. I hate priests and friars. It 's unlucky to get talking to them at all. You never know what trouble you 're in for. A Child ^commg up'j. That 's true, indeed. The last time I spoke to a priest it 's what he leathered me with a stick ; may the divil fly away with him. Paul Ruttledge. But somebody must marry us. Charlie Ward. Of course. You '11 lep over the tinker's budget the usual way. You '11 just marry her by lepping WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 75 over the budget the same as the rest of us marry. Paul Ruttledgb. That 's all I want to know. Please marry me in whatever is your usual way. Jerome enters, leading the ass. He carries a pig's cheek, some groceries, a string of onions, etc., on ths ass, which still has its nursery trappings. He goes up to Charlie Ward thinking he is Paul RUTTLEDGE. Jerome. Paul, what are you doing here ? Charlie Ward ]turnim,g'^. What do you want ? Jerome. Oh ! I 'm mistaken. I thought — 76 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Paul Ruttledge. I am here, Father Jerome, but you 're talking to the wrong man. Jerome. Good God, Paul, what has happened ? Paul Ruttledge. Nothing has hap- pened that need surprise you. Don't you remember what we talked of to- day ? You told me I was too much by myself. After you went away I thought I would make a change. Jerome. But a change like this ! Paul Ruttledge. Why should you find fault with it ? I am richer now than I was then. I only lent you that donkey then, now I give him to you. Jerome. What has brought you among such people as these ? WHERE THERE IS NOTHING 77 Paul Ruttledge. I find them on the whole better company than the peo- ple I left a little while ago. Let me in- troduce you to — Jerome. What can you possibly gain by coming here ? Are you going to try and teach them ? Paul Ruttledge. Oh ! no, I am go- ing to learn from them. Jerome. What can you learn from them? Paul Ruttledge. To pick up my living like the crows, and to solder tin cans. Just give me that one I mended awhile ago. \_JIolds it out to Father Jerome Jerome. That is all nonsense. 78 WHERE THERE IS NOTHING Paul Ruttledge. I am happy. Do not your saints put all opponents to the rout by saying they alone of all mankind are happy ? Jerome. I suppose you will not com- pare the happiness of these people with the happiness of saints ? Paul Ruttledge. There are all sorts of happiness. Some find their happiness like Thomas a Kempis, with a little book and a little cell. Paddy Cockfight. I would wonder at anybody that could be happy in a cell. 