  All the music that is printed here, with the exception of Mr. Arthur Darley’s, is of that kind which I have described in Samhain and in Ideas of Good and Evil. Some of it is old Irish music made when all songs were but heightened speech, and some of it composed by modern musicians is none the less to be associated with words that must never lose the intonation of passionate speech. No vowel must ever be prolonged unnaturally, no word of mine must ever change into a mere musical note, no singer of my words must ever cease to be a man and become an instrument. The degree of approach to ordinary singing depends on the context, for one desires a greater or lesser amount of contrast between the lyrics and the dialogue according to situation and emotion and the qualities of players. The words of Cathleen ni Houlihan about the ‘white-scarfed riders’ must be little more than regulated declamation; the little song of Leagerie when he seizes the ‘Golden Helmet’ should in its opening words be indistinguishable from the dialogue itself. Upon the other hand, Cathleen’s verses by the fire, and those of the pupils in the Hour-Glass, and those of the beggars in the Unicorn, are sung as the country people understand song. Modern singing would spoil them for dramatic purposes by taking the keenness and the salt out of the words. The songs in Deirdre, in Miss Farr’s and in Miss Allgood’s setting, need fine speakers of verse more than good singers; and in these, and still more in the song of the Three Women in Baile’s Strand, the singers must remember the natural speed of words. If the lyric in Baile’s Strand is sung slowly it is like church-singing, but if sung quickly and with the right expression it becomes an incantation so old that I have not yet put Miss Farr’s Deirdre music to the test of performances, but, as she and I have worked out all this art of spoken song together, I have little doubt but I shall find it all I would have it. Mr. Darley’s music was used at the first production of the play and at its revival last spring, and was dramatically effective. I could hear the words perfectly, and I think they must have been audible to anyone hearing the play for the first or second time. They had not, however, the full animation of speech, as one heard it in the dirge at the end of the play set by Miss Allgood herself, who played the principal musician. It is very difficult for a musician who is not a speaker to do exactly what I want. Mr. Darley has written for singers not for speakers. His music is, perhaps, too elaborate, simple though it is. I have not had sufficient opportunity to experiment with the play to find out the exact distance from ordinary speech necessary in the first two lyrics, which must prolong the mood of the dialogue while being a rest from its passions. Miss Farr’s music will be used at the next revival of the play. Mr. Darley’s music for Shadowy Waters was supposed to be played upon Forgael’s magic harp, and it accompanied W. B. YEATS. March, 1908. THE KING’S THRESHOLD.The King's Threshold Transcriber's Note: To hear this song and any song in this section click on the song title. THE FOUR RIVERS. Through well-mown level ground Have come out of a blessed well That is all bound and wound By the great roots of an apple, And all fowls of the air Have gathered in the wide branches And Keep singing there. THE FOOL’S SONG. Cuchulain has killed kings, Kings and sons of kings, Dragons out of the water and witches out of the air, Banachas and Bonachas and people of the woods. Witches that steal the milk, Fomor that steal the children, Hags that have heads like hares, Hares that have claws like witches, All riding a-cock-horse, Out of the very bottom of the bitter black north. ON BAILE’S STRAND.—SONG OF THE WOMEN.On Baile's Strand Song of the Women Music: women's song continues SONG OF THE WOMEN. May this fire have driven out The shape-changers that can put Ruin on a great king’s house, Until all be ruinous. Names whereby a man has known The threshold and the hearthstone, Gather on the wind and drive Women none can kiss and thrive, For they are but whirling wind, Out of memory and mind. They would make a prince decay With light images of clay Planted in the running wave; Or for many shapes they have, They would change them into hounds Until he had died of his wounds Though the change were but a whim; Or they’d hurl a spell at him, That he follow with desire Bodies that can never tire Or grow kind, for they anoint All their bodies joint by joint With a miracle-working juice Of the ungoverned unicorn; But the man is thrice forlorn Emptied, ruined, wracked, and lost, That they follow, for at most They will give him kiss for kiss While they murmur “After this Hatred may be sweet to the taste;” Those wild hands that have embraced All his body can but shove At the burning wheel of love Till the side of hate comes up. Therefore in this ancient cup May the sword-blades drink their fill Of the home-brew there, until They will have for master none But the threshold and hearthstone. Florence Farr. When you were an acorn on the tree top, Then was I an eagle-cock; Now that you are a withered old block, Still am I an eagle-cock. DEIRDRE. MUSICIANS’ SONG.—I.Music: Deirdre Musician's Song Florence Farr. First Musician.“Why is it,” Queen Edain said, “If I do but climb the stair To the tower overhead When the winds are calling there, Or the gannets calling out, In waste places of the sky, There is so much to think about, That I cry, that I cry?” Second Musician.But her goodman answered her: “Love would be a thing of naught Had not all his limbs a stir Born out of immoderate thought. Were he any thing by half, Were his measure running dry, Lovers, if they may not laugh, Have to cry, have to cry.” The Three Musicians together.But is Edain worth a song Now the hunt begins anew? Praise the beautiful and strong; Praise the redness of the yew; Praise the blossoming apple-stem. But our silence had been wise. What is all our praise to them That have one another’s eyes? DEIRDRE. MUSICIANS’ SONG.—II.Music: Deirdre: Musicians Song II Florence Farr. Love is an immoderate thing And can never be content Till it dip an ageing wing, Where some laughing element Leaps and Time’s old lanthorn dims. What’s the merit in love-play, In the tumult of the limbs That dies out before ’tis day, Heart on heart or mouth on mouth All that mingling of our breath, When love-longing is but drouth For the things that follow death? Florence Farr. First Musician.They are gone, they are gone The proud may lie by the proud. Second Musician.Though we were bidden to sing, cry nothing Loud. First Musician.They are gone, they are gone. Second Musician.Whispering were enough. First Musician.Into the secret wilderness of their love. Second Musician.A high grey cairn. What more to be said? First Musician.Eagles have gone into their cloudy bed. DEIRDRE. MUSICIANS’ SONG.—III. ALLGOOD.Music: Deirdre: Musician's Song III by Allgood Sarah Allgood. First MusicianThey are gone: They are gone; the proud may lie by the proud. Second MusicianThough we are bidden to sing, cry nothing loud. First MusicianThey are gone, they are gone. Second MusicianWhispering were enough. First Musician.Into the secret wilderness of their love. Second MusicianA high grey cairn. What more is to be said? First MusicianEagles have gone into their cloudy bed. SHADOWY WATERS.Music: Shadowy Waters Arthur Darley. Sailors. And I! And I! And I! Dectora. Protect me now, gods, that my people swear by. Dectora. I will end all your magic on the instant. This sword is to lie beside him in the grave. It was in all his battles. I will spread my hair, and wring my hands, and wail him bitterly, For I have heard that he was proud and laughing, blue-eyed, and a quick runner on bare feet, And that he died a thousand years ago. O! O! O! But no, that is not it. I knew him well, and while I heard him laughing they killed him at my feet. O! O! O! O! For golden-armed Iollan that I loved. Forgael. Have buried nothing by my golden arms. Forgael. And knitted mesh to mesh we grow immortal. FOOTNOTE:THE UNICORN FROM THE STARS “The Airy Bachelor.”Music: The Unicorn: The Airy Bachelor THE UNICORN FROM THE STARS IRISH TRADITIONAL AIRS. Oh come all ye airy bachelors, come listen unto me. A sergeant caught mefowling, and he fired his gun so free ... His comrades came to his relief, And I was soon trapanned... And bound up like a wood-cock That had fallen into their hands. TRADITIONAL ARAN AIR. I was going the road one day ... O! the brown and the yellow beer, And I met with a man that was no right man, ... Oh my dear, my dear. Music: CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN. Florence Farr. I.I will go cry with the woman, For yellow-haired Donough is dead, With a hempen rope for a neck-cloth, And a white cloth on his head. II.Do not make a great keening When the graves have been dug tomorrow. III.They shall be remembered forever [repeat 3 times] The people shall hear them forever. |
|
