The Countess Cathleen

By William Butler Yeats and Mint Editions

The Countess Cathleen (1892) is a verse drama by W.B. Yeats. Dedicated to Maud Gonne, an actress and revolutionary whom Yeats unsuccessfully courted for years, The Countess Cathleen underwent several editions before being performed in its final version at Dublin’s Abbey Theatre in 1911.

Based on an Irish legend, the play, set during a period of intense famine, follows a land-owning Countess who decides to sacrifice her wealth and property in order to save the starving Irish people. As dusk gathers, a family prepares for dinner in their rural home. The fire is lit, and Shemus, the father, has returned home from a day of hunting with nothing to show for it. As they scrounge what they can to make themselves a meal, the Countess Cathleen arrives to ask them for directions. Touched by their suffering, the Countess returns home and begins to wonder what she can do to alleviate their difficult circumstances. Impatient, Shemus yells to the darkening woods to welcome whatever being, angel or devil, that would bring them money or something to eat. When two merchants arrive offering him gold for his services, it appears that the Countess, despite her good intentions, may already be too late. The Countess Cathleen is a drama written in blank verse that explores themes of poverty, faith, and Irish independence.

This edition of W.B. Yeats’s The Countess Cathleen is a classic of Irish literature reimagined for modern readers.

Since our inception in 2020, Mint Editions has kept sustainability and innovation at the forefront of our mission. Each and every Mint Edition title gets a fresh, professionally typeset manuscript and a dazzling new cover, all while maintaining the integrity of the original book.

With thousands of titles in our collection, we aim to spotlight diverse public domain works to help them find modern audiences. Mint Editions celebrates a breadth of literary works, curated from both canonical and overlooked classics from writers around the globe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mint Editions
• Release date: Feb 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781513275871

William Butler Yeats

W.B. Yeats (1865-1939) was an Irish poet. Born in Sandymount, Yeats was raised between Sligo, England, and Dublin by John Butler Yeats, a prominent painter, and Susan Mary Pollexfen, the daughter of a wealthy merchant family. He began writing poetry around the age of seventeen, influenced by the Romantics and the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, but soon turned to Irish folklore and the mystical writings of William Blake for inspiration. As a young man he joined and founded several occult societies, including the Dublin Hermetic Order and the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, participating in séances and rituals as well as acting as a recruiter. While these interests continued throughout Yeats’ life, the poet dedicated much of his middle years to the struggle for Irish independence. In 1904, alongside John Millington Synge, Florence Farr, the Fay brothers, and Annie Horniman, Yeats founded the Abbey Theatre in Dublin, which opened with his play Cathleen ni Houlihan and Lady Gregory’s Spreading the News and remains Ireland’s premier venue for the dramatic arts to this day. Although he was an Irish Nationalist, and despite his work toward establishing a distinctly Irish movement in the arts, Yeats—as is evident in his poem “Easter, 1916”—struggled to identify his idealism with the sectarian violence that emerged with the Easter Rising in 1916. Following the establishment of the Irish Free State in 1922, however, Yeats was appointed to the role of Senator and served two terms in the position. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923, and continued to write and publish poetry, philosophical and occult writings, and plays until his death in 1939.

Book preview

Scene 1

SCENE—A room with lighted fire, and a door into the open air, through which one sees, perhaps, the trees of a wood, and these trees should be painted in flat colour upon a gold or diapered sky. The walls are of one colour. The scene should have the effect of missal Painting. MARY, a woman of forty years or so, is grinding a quern.

MARY: What can have made the grey hen flutter so?

(TEIG, a boy of fourteen, is coming in with turf, which he lays beside the hearth)

TEIG: They say that now the land is famine struck

The graves are walking.

MARY: There is something that the hen hears.

TEIG: And that is not the worst; at Tubber-vanach

A woman met a man with ears spread out,

And they moved up and down like a bat’s wing.

MARY: What can have kept your father all this while?

TEIG: Two nights ago, at Carrick-orus churchyard,

A herdsman met a man who had no mouth,

Nor eyes, nor ears; his face a wall of flesh;

He saw him plainly by the light of the moon.

MARY: Look out, and tell me if your father’s coming.

(TEIG goes to door)

TEIG: Mother!

MARY: What is it?

TEIG: In the bush beyond,

There are two birds—if you can call them birds—

I could not see them rightly for the leaves.

But they’ve the shape and colour of horned owls

And I’m half certain they’ve a human face.

MARY: Mother of God, defend us!

TEIG: They’re looking at me.

What is the good of praying? father says.

God and the Mother of God have dropped asleep.

What do they care, he says, though the whole land

Squeal like a rabbit under a weasel’s tooth?

MARY: You’ll bring misfortune with your blasphemies

Upon your father, or yourself, or me.

I would to God he were home—ah, there he is.

(SHEMUS comes in)

What was it kept you in the wood? You know

I cannot get all sorts of accidents

Out of my mind till you are home again.

SHEMUS: I’m in no mood to listen to your clatter.

Although I tramped the woods for half a day,

I’ve taken nothing, for the very rats,

Badgers, and hedgehogs seem to have died of drought,

And there was scarce a wind in the parched leaves.

TEIG: Then you have brought no dinner.

SHEMUS: After that

I sat among the beggars at the cross-roads,

And held a hollow hand among the others.

MARY: What, did you beg?

SHEMUS: I had no chance to beg,

For when the beggars saw me they cried out

They would not have another share their alms,

And hunted me away with sticks and stones.

TEIG: You said that you would bring us food or money.

SHEMUS: What’s in the house?

TEIG: A bit of mouldy bread.

MARY: There’s flour enough to make another loaf.

TEIG: And when that’s gone?

MARY: There is the hen in the coop.

SHEMUS: My curse upon the beggars, my Curse upon them!

TEIG: And the last penny gone.

SHEMUS: When the hen’s gone,

What can we do but live on sorrel and dock

And dandelion, till our mouths are green?

MARY: God, that to this hour’s found bit and sup,

Will cater for us still.

SHEMUS: His kitchen’s bare.

There were five doors that I looked through this day

And saw the dead and not a soul to wake them.

MARY: Maybe He’d have us die because He knows,

When the ear is stopped and when the eye is stopped,

That every wicked sight is hid from the eye,

And all fool talk from the ear.

SHEMUS: Who’s passing there?

And mocking us with music?

(A stringed instrument without)

TEIG: A young man plays it,

There’s an old woman and a lady with him.

SHEMUS: What is the trouble