William Yeats - The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 4 of 8. The Hour-glass. Cathleen ni Houlihan. The Golden Helmet. The Irish Dramatic Movement

An ANGEL , in a dress the colour of embers, and carrying a blossoming apple-bough in her hand and a gilded halo about her head, stands upon the threshold. ] Before I came, men’s minds were stuffed with folly about a heaven where birds sang the hours, and about angels that came and stood upon men’s thresholds. But I have locked the visions into heaven and turned the key upon them. Well, I must consider this passage about the two countries. My mother used to say something of the kind. She would say that when our bodies sleep our souls awake, and that whatever withers here ripens yonder, and that harvests are snatched from us that they may feed invisible people. But the meaning of the book may be different, for only fools and women have thoughts like that; their thoughts were never written upon the walls of Babylon. I must ring the bell for my pupils. [ He sees the ANGEL.] What are you? Who are you? I think I saw some that were like you in my dreams when I was a child – that bright thing, that dress that is the colour of embers! But I have done with dreams, I have done with dreams.

I am the Angel of the Most High God.

Why have you come to me?

I have brought you a message.

What message have you got for me?

You will die within the hour. You will die when the last grains have fallen in this glass.

[She turns the hour-glass.

My time to die has not come. I have my pupils. I have a young wife and children that I cannot leave. Why must I die?

You must die because no souls have passed over the threshold of Heaven since you came into this country. The threshold is grassy, and the gates are rusty, and the angels that keep watch there are lonely.

Where will death bring me to?

The doors of Heaven will not open to you, for you have denied the existence of Heaven; and the doors of Purgatory will not open to you, for you have denied the existence of Purgatory.

But I have also denied the existence of Hell!

Hell is the place of those who deny.

I have, indeed, denied everything, and have taught others to deny. I have believed in nothing but what my senses told me. But, oh! beautiful Angel, forgive me, forgive me!

You should have asked forgiveness long ago.

Had I seen your face as I see it now, oh! beautiful angel, I would have believed, I would have asked forgiveness. Maybe you do not know how easy it is to doubt. Storm, death, the grass rotting, many sicknesses, those are the messengers that came to me. Oh! why are you silent? You carry the pardon of the Most High; give it to me! I would kiss your hands if I were not afraid – no, no, the hem of your dress!

You let go undying hands too long ago to take hold of them now.

You cannot understand. You live in a country that we can only dream about. Maybe it is as hard for you to understand why we disbelieve as it is for us to believe. Oh! what have I said! You know everything! Give me time to undo what I have done. Give me a year – a month – a day – an hour! Give me to this hour’s end, that I may undo what I have done!

You cannot undo what you have done. Yet I have this power with my message. If you can find one that believes before the hour’s end, you shall come to Heaven after the years of Purgatory. For, from one fiery seed, watched over by those that sent me, the harvest can come again to heap the golden threshing-floor. But now farewell, for I am weary of the weight of time.

Blessed be the Father, blessed be the Son, blessed be the Spirit, blessed be the Messenger They have sent!

In a little while the uppermost glass will be empty. [ Goes out.

Everything will be well with me. I will call my pupils; they only say they doubt. [ Pulls the bell. ] They will be here in a moment. They want to please me; they pretend that they disbelieve. Belief is too old to be overcome all in a minute. Besides, I can prove what I once disproved. [ Another pull at the bell. ] They are coming now. I will go to my desk. I will speak quietly, as if nothing had happened.

[ He stands at the desk with a fixed look in his eyes. The voices of THE PUPILS are heard singing these words :

Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Who is that pulling at my bag? King’s son, do not pull at my bag.

Did your friends the angels give you that bag? Why don’t they fill your bag for you?

Give me pennies! Give me some pennies!

What do you want pennies for? that great bag at your waist is heavy.

I want to buy bacon in the shops, and nuts in the market, and strong drink for the time when the sun is weak, and snares to catch rabbits and the squirrels that steal the nuts, and hares, and a great pot to cook them in.

Why don’t your friends tell you where buried treasures are? Why don’t they make you dream about treasures? If one dreams three times there is always treasure.

Give me pennies! Give me pennies!

[They throw pennies into his hat. He is standing close to the door, that he may hold out his hat to each newcomer.

Master, will you have Teig the Fool for a scholar?

Teig, will you give us your pennies if we teach you lessons? No, he goes to school for nothing on the mountains. Tell us what you learn on the mountains, Teig?

Be silent all! [ He has been standing silent, looking away. ] Stand still in your places, for there is something I would have you tell me.

[ A moment’s pause. They all stand round in their places. TEIG still stands at the door.

Is there any one amongst you who believes in God? In Heaven? Or in Purgatory? Or in Hell?

No one, Master! No one!

I knew you would all say that; but do not be afraid. I will not be angry. Tell me the truth. Do you not believe?

We once did, but you have taught us to know better.

Oh! teaching, teaching does not go very deep! The heart remains unchanged under it all. You have the faith that you always had, and you are afraid to tell me.

No, no, Master!

If you tell me that you have not changed I shall be glad and not angry.

He wants somebody to dispute with.

I knew that from the beginning.

That is not the subject for to-day; you were going to talk about the words the beggar wrote upon the walls of Babylon.

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