Father Hart Monologue from The Land of Heart's Desire

From The Land of Heart's Desire by W. B. (William Butler) Yeats

male · contemplative · 1:28 min

I never saw her read a book before, What can it be? MAURTEEN (to SHAWN) What are you waiting for? You must not shake it when you draw the cork it's precious wine, so take your time about it. (SHAWN goes.) (To priest) There was a Spaniard wrecked at Ocris Head, When I was young, and I have still some bottles. He cannot bear to hear her blamed; the book Has lain up in the thatch these fifty years; My father told me my grandfather wrote it, And killed a heifer for the binding of it-- But supper's spread, and we can talk and eat. It was little good he got out of the book, Because it filled his house with rambling fiddlers, And rambling ballad-makers and the like. The griddle-bread is there in front of you. Colleen, what is the wonder in that book, That you must leave the bread to cool? Had I Or had my father read or written books There was no stocking stuffed with yellow guineas To come when I am dead to Shawn and you.

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