The Land Of Heart's Desire

MAURTEEN BRUIN
BRIDGET BRUIN
SHAWN BRUIN
MARY BRUIN
FATHER HART
A FAERY CHILD

The Scene is laid in the Barony of Kilmacowen, in the County of
Sligo, and at a remote time.

THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE

SCENE.--A room with a hearth on the floor in the middle of a deep
alcove to the Right. There are benches in the alcove and a table;
and a crucifix on the wall. The alcove is full of a glow of
light from the fire. There is an open door facing the audience to
the Left, and to the left of this a bench. Through the door one
can see the forest. It is night, but the moon or a late sunset
glimmers through the trees and carries the eye far off into a
vague, mysterious World.

MAURTEEN BRUIN, SHAWN BRUIN, and BRIDGET BRUIN sit in the alcove
at the table or about the fire. They are dressed in the costume
of some remote time, and near them sits an old priest, FATHER
HART. He may be dressed as a friar. There is food and drink
upon the table. MARY BRUIN stands by the door reading a book. If
she looks up she can see through the door into the wood.

BRIDGET. Because I bid her clean the pots for supper
She took that old book down out of the thatch;
She has been doubled over it ever since.
We should be deafened by her groans and moans
Had she to work as some do, Father Hart;
Get up at dawn like me and mend and scour;
Or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you,
The pyx and blessed bread under your arm.

SHAWN. Mother, you are too cross.

BRIDGET. You've married her,
And fear to vex her and so take her part.

MAURTEEN (to FATHER HART)
It is but right that youth should side with youth
She quarrels with my wife a bit at times,
And is too deep just now in the old book
But do not blame her greatly; she will grow
As quiet as a puff-ball in a tree
When but the moons of marriage dawn and die
For half a score of times.

FATHER HART. Their hearts are wild,
As be the hearts of birds, till children come.

BRIDGET. She would not mind the kettle, milk the cow,
Or even lay the knives and spread the cloth.

SHAWN. Mother, if only--

MAURTEEN. Shawn, this is half empty;
Go, bring up the best bottle that we have.

FATHER HART. I never saw her read a book before,
What can it be?

MAURTEEN (to SHAWN)
What are you waiting for?
You must not shake it when you draw the cork
it's precious wine, so take your time about it.

(SHAWN goes.)

(To priest) There was a Spaniard wrecked at Ocris Head,
When I was young, and I have still some bottles.
He cannot bear to hear her blamed; the book
Has lain up in the thatch these fifty years;
My father told me my grandfather wrote it,