قراءة كتاب The King's Threshold; and On Baile's Strand
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
The King's Threshold; and On Baile's Strand
الصفحة رقم: 3
know, being much away,
How many of our cattle died last winter
From lacking grass, and that there was much sickness
Because the poor had nothing but salt fish
To live upon. The people all came out
And stood about the doors as I went by.
Seanchan.
What would you have of me?
For there are men that shall be born at last
And find sweet nurture that they may have voices
Even in anger like the strings of harps.
Yet how could they be born to majesty
If I had never made the golden cradle?
Mayor.
Cian.
He is listening.
Mayor.
He says that he is old and that he needs you,
And that the people will be pointing at him
And he not able to lift up his head
If you should turn the King’s favour away.
And he adds to it, that he cared you well,
And you in your young age, and that it’s right
That you should care him now.
Cian.
And when he spoke
He cried because the stiffness of his bones
Prevented him from coming.
Mayor.
But your mother
Has sent no message, for when they had told her
The way it is between you and the King
She said, “No message can do any good,
He will not send the answer that you want;
We cannot change him,” and she went indoors,
Lay down upon her bed and turned her face
Out of the light. And thereupon your father
Said, “Tell him how she is, and that she sends
No message.” I have nothing more to say.
Cian and Brian, you can set out the food.
[He sits down on steps. Seanchan is silent.
Mayor.
I have a horse waiting outside the town
To bring me home, and all the neighbours wait
Your answer. What answer am I to bring?
Seanchan.
Give them my answer—no, I have no answer:
My mother knew it.
Mayor.
Maybe you have forgotten
That all our fields are so heaped up with stones
That the goats famish, and the mowers mow
With knives, and that the King half promised us——
Seanchan.
Mayor.
But——
Cian.
You have said enough;
I knew that you would never speak it right.
Seanchan.
Our mothers know us, they know us to the bone,
They knew us before birth, and that is why
They know us even better than the sweethearts
Upon whose breasts we have lain.
Brian.
We have brought your honour
The food that you have always liked the best,
Young pigeons from Kinvara, and watercress
Out of the stream that’s by the blessed well,
And dulse from Duras. Here is the dulse, your honour,
It is wholesome, and has the good taste of the sea.
Seanchan.
O Brian, you would spread the table for me
As you would spread it when I was in my childhood;
But all that’s finished.
Mayor.
I knew he would not care
For country things now that he’s grown accustomed
To the King’s dishes. I told Brian too
He’d have his pains for nothing. But he’s old.
[Goes over to table at right. While he is speaking Cian and Brian are in vain offering Seanchan food.
And what dishes! Venison from Slieve Echtge
Fattened with poor men’s crops; flesh of wild pig;
Not fat nor lean, but streaky and right well cured;
Bread that’s the whitest that I’ve ever seen.
Cian.
You’re in the right, you’re in the right, he will not eat.
[Pouring wine into cup.
Mayor.
Bring him some wine, it will give him strength to eat.
[Brian brings wine over towards Seanchan.
No wonder if the King is proud and merry,
And keeps all day in the saddle, when even I
Am well-nigh drunken with the odour of it,
And if I dared—I dare not.
Cian.
Drink it, sir.
Brian.
Drink a few drops.
Seanchan.
Drink it yourself, old man,
For you have come a journey, and I daresay
You did not eat or drink upon the road.
Cian.
How can I drink it when your honour’s thirsty?
[He offers cup again. The King’s Household comes in. Chamberlain with long staff, a Soldier, a Monk, two Ladies, followed by Cripples who beg from the ladies, who keep close together at right, talking to each other at intervals. Soldier goes over to Mayor, and talks to him.
Chamberlain.
Well, have you it in imagination still
To overthrow the dignity of the King,
Or is the game finished?
[A pause.
How many days
Will you keep up this quarrel with the King,
With the King’s nobles and myself and all
Who’d gladly be your friends if you would let them?
Soldier.
[Who has been speaking to Mayor and Servants.]
Was it you that sent his servants and the Mayor
Of his own town to wheedle him into life?
Chamberlain.
It was the King himself.
Soldier.
Was it worth our while
To have got rid of him from the King’s table
If he is to be humoured and made much of?
Chamberlain.
It seems that he has not eaten yet, although
He’s had another dozen hours of hunger.
Soldier.
If he’s so proud and obstinate a neck
I’d let him starve.
Monk.
Persuade him to eat, my lord.
His death would make a scandal, and stir up
The common people.
Chamberlain.
And I have a fancy
That if it brought misfortune on the King,
Or the King’s house, we’d be as little thought of
As summer linen when the winter’s come.
Aileen.
[To Cian.] You’ve had no luck, old man.
Cian.
We have not, lady.
Aileen.
Maybe he’s out of humour with your ways,
Having grown used to sprightlier service.
Cian.
Maybe.
But the King’s messengers have gone for one
That will persuade him. [To Brian.] Come, let us go;
For she might lose her way in this fine place.
Come, we have been too long upon the tree,
[Plucking sleeve of Mayor.
And there are little golden pippins here.
Soldier.
Give me the dish, I’ll hand it him myself.
Aileen.
I wonder if she is pretty.
[Mayor and Servants have gone out.
Soldier.
Eat this, old hedgehog.
Sniff up the savour and unroll yourself.
But if I were the King I’d make you do it
With wisps of lighted straw.
Seanchan.
You have rightly named me,
I lie rolled up under the ragged thorns
That are upon the edge of those great waters
Where all things vanish away, and I have heard
Murmurs that are the ending of all sound.
I am out of life, I am rolled up, and yet,
Hedgehog although I am, I’ll not unroll
For you, King’s dog. Go to the King, your master,
Crouch down and wag your tail, for it may be
He has nothing now against you, and I think
The stripes of your last beating are all healed.
Chamberlain.
Don’t answer, you were never to his mind.
And now you have angered him to no good purpose.
But put the dish down and I will speak to him.
Seanchan.
You must needs keep your patience yet awhile,
For I have some few mouthfuls of sweet air
To swallow before I have grown to be as civil
As any other dust.
Chamberlain.
You wrong us, Seanchan,
There is none here but holds you in respect,
And if you would only eat out of this dish
The King would show how much he honours you.
Aileen.
[Giving Cripple money.]
You are always discontented. Look at this cripple,
He has had to cover up his eyes with rags
Because they are too weak to look at the sun,
And has a crooked body, and yet he is cheerful.
Stand there where he can see you.
[Cripple goes over and stands in front of Seanchan, bowing and smiling.
Chamberlain.
We have come to you
Because we wish you a long, prosperous life;
Who could imagine you’d so take to heart
Being put from the high table.
Seanchan.
It was not I
That you have driven away from the high table,
But the images of them that weave a dance,
By the four rivers in the mountain garden.
Monk.
He means we have driven poetry away.
Chamberlain.
It is the men who are learned in the laws,
Or have led the King’s armies that should sit