he room;
the twilight has fallen and gradually darkens as the scene goes
on.)

ALEEL. They're rising up-they're rising through the earth,
Fat Asmodel and giddy Belial,
And all the fiends. Now they leap in the air.
But why does Hell's gate creak so? Round and round,
Hither and hither, to and fro they're running.

He moves about as though the air was full of spirits.
OONA enters.)

Crouch down, old heron, out of the blind storm.

OONA. Where is the Countess Cathleen? All this day
Her eyes were full of tears, and when for a moment
Her hand was laid upon my hand, it trembled.
And now I do not know where she is gone.

ALEEL. Cathleen has chosen other friends than us,
And they are rising through the hollow world.
Demons are out, old heron.

OONA. God guard her soul.

ALEEL. She's bartered it away this very hour,
As though we two were never in the world.

(He kneels beside her, but does not seem to hear her words. The
PEASANTS return. They carry the COUNTESS CATHLEEN and lay her
upon the ground before OONA and ALEEL. She lies there as if
dead.)

OONA. O, that so many pitchers of rough clay
Should prosper and the porcelain break in two!

(She kisses the hands Of CATHLEEN.)

A PEASANT. We were under the tree where the path turns
When she grew pale as death and fainted away.

CATHLEEN. O! hold me, and hold me tightly, for the storm
is dragging me away.

(OONA takes her in her arms. A WOMAN begins to wail.)

PEASANTS. Hush!

PEASANTS Hush!

PEASANT WOMEN. Hush!

OTHER PEASANT WOMEN. Hush!

CATHLEEN. (half rising) Lay all the bags of money in a heap,
And when I am gone, old Oona, share them out
To every man and woman: judge, and give
According to their needs.

A PEASANT WOMAN. And will she give
Enough to keep my children through the dearth?

ANOTHER PEASANT WOMAN.
O, Queen of Heaven, and all you blessed saints,
Let us and ours be lost, so she be shriven.

CATHLEEN. Bend down your faces, Oona and Aleel;
I gaze upon them as the swallow gazes
Upon the nest under the eave, before
She wander the loud waters. Do not weep
Too great a while, for there is many a candle
On the High Altar though one fall. Aleel,
Who sang about the dancers of the woods,
That know not the hard burden of the world,
Having but breath in their kind bodies, farewell
And farewell, Oona, you who played with me
And bore me in your arms about the house
When I was but a child-and therefore happy,
Therefore happy ev