The Secret Rose-第1章

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DEDICATION　TO　A。E。

　　
as　for　living；　our　servants　will　do　that　for　us。　？？_villiers　de　lisle　adam。

helen；　when　she　looked　in　her　mirror；　seeing　the　withered　wrinkles　made　in　her　face　by　old　age；　wept；　and　wondered　why　she　had　twice　been　carried　away。？？leonardo　da　vinci。

my　dear　a。e。？？i　dedicate　this　book　to　you　because；　whether　you　think　it　well　or　ill　written；　you　will　sympathize　with　the　sorrows　and　the　ecstasies　of　its　personages；　perhaps　even　more　than　i　do　myself。

although　i　wrote　these　stories　at　different　times　and　in　different　manners；　and　without　any　definite　plan；　they　have　but　one　subject；　the　war　of　spiritual　with　natural　order；　and　how　can　i　dedicate　such　a　book　to　anyone　but　to　you；　the　one　poet　of　modern　ireland　who　has　moulded　a　spiritual　ecstasy　into　verse？　my　friends　in　ireland　sometimes　ask　me　when　i　am　going　to　write　a　really　national　poem　or　romance；　and　by　a　national　poem　or　romance　i　understand　them　to　mean　a　poem　or　romance　founded　upon　some　famous　moment　of　irish　history；　and　built　up　out　of　the　thoughts　and　feelings　which　move　the　greater　number　of　patriotic　irishmen。　i　on　the　other　hand　believe　that　poetry　and　romance　cannot　be　made　by　the　most　conscientious　study　of　famous　moments　and　of　the　thoughts　and　feelings　of　others；　but　only　by　looking　into　that　little；　infinite；　faltering；　eternal　flame　that　we　call　ourselves。　if　a　writer　wishes　to　interest　a　certain　people　among　whom　he　has　grown　up；　or　fancies　he　has　a　duty　towards　them；　he　may　choose　for　the　symbols　of　his　art　their　legends；　their　history；　their　beliefs；　their　opinions；　because　he　has　a　right　to　choose　among　things　less　than　himself；　but　he　cannot　choose　among　the　substances　of　art。　so　far；　however；　as　this　book　is　visionary　it　is　irish　for　ireland；　which　is　still　predominantly　celtic；　has　preserved　with　some　less　excellent　things　a　gift　of　vision；　which　has　died　out　among　more　hurried　and　more　successful　nations：　no　shining　candelabra　have　prevented　us　from　looking　into　the　darkness；　and　when　one　looks　into　the　darkness　there　is　always　something　there。

w。b。　yeats。

　。。　



TO　THE　SECRET　ROSE

/小。说＋
far　off；　most　secret；　and　inviolate　rose；　enfold　me　in　my　hour　of　hours；　where　those　who　sought　thee　at　the　holy　sepulchre；　or　in　the　wine？vat；　dwell　beyond　the　stir　and　tumult　of　defeated　dreams；　and　deep　among　pale　eyelids　heavy　with　the　sleep　men　have　named　beauty。　your　great　leaves　enfold　the　ancient　beards；　the　helms　of　ruby　and　gold　of　the　crowned　magi；　and　the　king　whose　eyes　saw　the　pierced　hands　and　rood　of　elder　rise　in　druid　vapour　and　make　the　torches　dim；　till　vain　frenzy　awoke　and　he　died；　and　him　who　met　　fand　walking　among　flaming　dew；　by　a　grey　shore　where　the　wind　never　blew；　and　lost　the　world　and　emir　for　a　kiss；　and　him　who　drove　the　gods　out　of　their　liss　and　till　a　hundred　morns　had　flowered　red　feasted；　and　wept　the　barrows　of　his　dead；　and　the　proud　dreaming　king　who　flung　the　crown　and　sorrow　away；　and　calling　bard　and　clown　dwelt　among　wine？stained　wanderers　in　deep　woods；　and　him　who　sold　tillage　and　house　and　goods；　and　sought　through　lands　and　islands　numberless　years　until　he　found　with　laughter　and　with　tears　a　woman　of　so　shining　loveliness　that　men　threshed　corn　at　midnight　by　a　tress；　a　little　stolen　tress。　i　too　await　the　hour　of　thy　great　wind　of　love　and　hate。　when　shall　the　stars　be　blown　about　the　sky；　like　the　sparks　blown　out　of　a　smithy；　and　die？　surely　thine　hour　has　e；　thy　great　wind　blows；　far　off；　most　secret；　and　inviolate　rose？

。。



THE　CRUCIFIXION　OF　THE　OUTCAST

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a　man；　with　thin　brown　hair　and　a　pale　face；　half　ran；　half　walked；　along　the　road　that　wound　from　the　south　to　the　town　of　sligo。　many　called　him　cumhal；　the　son　of　cormac；　and　many　called　him　the　swift；　wild　horse；　and　he　was　a　gleeman；　and　he　wore　a　short　parti？coloured　doublet；　and　had　pointed　shoes；　and　a　bulging　wallet。　also　he　was　of　the　blood　of　the　ernaans；　and　his　birth？place　was　the　field　of　gold；　but　his　eating　and　sleeping　places　where　the　four　provinces　of　eri；　and　his　abiding　place　was　not　upon　the　ridge　of　the　earth。　his　eyes　strayed　from　the　abbey　tower　of　the　white　friars　and　the　town　battlements　to　a　row　of　crosses　which　stood　out　against　the　sky　upon　a　hill　a　little　to　the　eastward　of　the　town；　and　he　clenched　his　fist；　and　shook　it　at　the　crosses。　he　knew　they　were　not　empty；　for　the　birds　were　fluttering　about　them；　and　he　thought　how；　as　like　as　not；　just　such　another　vagabond　as　himself　was　hanged　on　one　of　them；　and　he　muttered：　if　it　were　hanging　or　bowstringing；　or　stoning　or　beheading；　it　would　be　bad　enough。　but　to　have　the　birds　pecking　your　eyes　and　the　wolves　eating　your　feet！　i　would　that　the　red　wind　of　the　druids　had　withered　in　his　cradle　the　soldier　of　dathi；　who　brought　the　tree　of　death　out　of　barbarous　lands；　or　that　the　lightning；　when　it　smote　dathi　at　the　foot　of　the　mountain；　had　smitten　him　also；　or　that　his　grave　had　been　dug　by　the　green？haired　and　green？toothed　merrows　deep　at　the　roots　of　the　deep　sea。

while　he　spoke；　he　shivered　from　head　to　foot；　and　the　sweat　came　out　upon　his　face；　and　he　knew　not　why；　for　he　had　looked　upon　many　crosses。　he　passed　over　two　hills　and　under　the　battlemented　gate；　and　then　round　by　a　left？hand　way　to　the　door　of　the　abbey。　it　was　studded　with　great　nails；　and　when　he　knocked　at　it；　he　roused　the　lay　brother　who　was　the　porter；　and　of　him　he　asked　a　place　in　the　guest？house。　then　the　lay　brother　took　a　glowing　turf　on　a　shovel；　and　led　the　way　to　a　big　and　naked　outhouse　strewn　with　very　dirty　rushes；　and　lighted　a　rush？candle　fixed　between　two　of　the　stones　of　the　wall；　and　set　the　glowing　turf　upon　the　hearth　and　gave　him　two　unlighted　sods　and　a　wisp　of　straw；　and　showed　him　a　blanket　hanging　from　a　nail；　and　a　shelf　with　a　loaf　of　bread　and　a　jug　of　water；　and　a　tub　in　a　far　corner。　then　the　lay　brother　left　him　and　went　back　to　his　place　by　the　door。　and　cumhal　the　son　of　cormac　began　to　blow　upon　the　glowing　turf　that　he　might　light　the　two　sods　and　the　wisp　of　straw；　but　the　sods　and　the　straw　would　not　light；　for　they　were　damp。　so　he　took　off　his　pointed　shoes；　and　drew　the　tub　out　of　the　corner　with　the　thought　of　washing　the　dust　of　the　highway　from　his　feet；　but　the　water　was　so　dirty　that　he　could　not　see　the　bottom。　he　was　very　hungry；　for　he　had　not　eaten　all　that　day；　so　he　did　not　waste　much　anger　upon　the　tub；　but　took　up　the　black　loaf；　and　bit　into　it；　and　then　spat　out　the　bite；　for　the　bread　was　hard　and　mouldy。　still　he　did　not　give　way　to　his　anger；　for　he　had　not　drunken　these　many　hours；　having　a　hope　of　heath　beer　or　wine　at　his　days　end；　he　had　left　the　brooks　untasted；　to　make　his　supper　the　more　delightful。　now　he　put　the　jug　to　his　lips；　but　he　flung　it　from　him　straightway；　for　the　water　was　bitter　and　ill？smelling。　then　he　gave　the　jug　a　kick；　so　that　it　broke　against　the　opposite　wall；　and　he　took　down　the　blanket　to　wrap　it　about　him　for　the　night。　but　no　sooner　did　he　touch　it　than　it　was　alive　with　skipping　fleas。　at　this；　beside　himself　with　anger；　he　rushed　to　the　door　of　the　guest？　house；　but　the　lay　brother；　being　well　accustomed　to　such　outcries；　had　locked　it　on　the　outside；　so　he　emptied　the　tub　and　began　to　beat　the　door　with　it；　till　the　lay　brother　came　to　the　door　and　asked　what　ailed　him；　and　why　he　woke　him　out　of　sleep。　what　ails　me！　shouted　cumhal；　are　not　the　sods　as　wet　as　the　sands　of　the　three　rosses？　and　are　not　the　fleas　in　the　blanket　as　many　as　the　waves　of　the　sea　and　as　lively？　and　is　not　the　bread　as　hard　as　the　heart　of　a　lay　brother　who　has　forgotten　god？　and　is　not　the　water　in　the　jug　as　bitter　and　as　ill？smelling　as　his　soul？　and　is　not　the　foot？water　the　colour　that　shall　be　upon　him　　when　he　has　been　charred　in　the　undying　fires？　the　lay　brother　saw　that　the　lock　was　fast；　and　went　back　to　his　niche；　for　he　was　too　sleepy　to　talk　with　fort。　and　cumhal　went　on　beating　at　the　door；　and　presently　he　heard　the　lay　brothers　foot　once　more；　and　cried　out　at　him；　o　cowardly　and　tyrannous　race　of　friars；　persecutors　of　the　bard　and　the　gleeman；　haters　of　life　and　joy！　o　race　that　does　not　draw　the　sword　and　tell　the　truth！　o　race　that　melts　the　bones　of　the　people　with　cowardice　and　with　deceit！

gleeman；　said　the　lay　brother；　i　also　make　rhymes；　i　make　many　while　i　sit　in　my　niche　by　the　door；　and　i　sorrow　to　hear　the　bards　railing　upon　the　friars。　brother；　i　would　sleep；　and　therefore　i　make　known　to　you　that　it　is　the　head　of　the　monastery；　our　gracious　abbot；　who　orders　all　things　concerning　the　lodging　of　travellers。

you　may　sleep；　said　cumhal；　i　will　sing　a　bards　curse　on　the　abbot。　and　he　set　the　tub　upside　down　under　the　window；　and　stood　upon　it；　and　began　to　sing　in　a　very　loud　voice。　the　singing　awoke　the　abbot；　so　that　he　sat　up　in　bed　and　blew　a　silver　whistle　until　the　lay　brother　came　to　him。　i　cannot　get　a　wink　of　sleep　with　that　noise；　said　the　abbot。　what　is　happening？

it　is　a　gleeman；　said　the　lay　brother；　who　plains　of　the　sods；　of　the　bread；　of　the　water　in　the　jug；　of　the　foot？water；　and　of　the　blanket。　and　now　he　is　singing　a　bards　curse　upon　you；　o　brother　abbot；　and　upon　your　father　and　your　mother；　and　your　gran