Riders to the Sea

J. M. Synge

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RIDERS TO THE SEA

that he had the experience out of which was wrought what many

believe to be his greatest play. The scene of "Riders to the

Sea" is laid in a cottage on Inishmaan, the middle and most

interesting island of the Aran group. While Synge was on

Inishmaan, the story came to him of a man whose body had been

perhaps one of the most poignantly vivid passages in Synge's

book on "The Aran Islands" relates the incident of his burial.

The other element in the story which Synge introduces into the

heard among Celtic races. In fact, they are so common as to

arouse little or no wonder in the minds of the people. It is

just such a tale, which there seems no valid reason for

doubting, that Synge heard, and that gave the title, "Riders to

the Sea", to his play.

It is the dramatist's high distinction that he has simply taken

the materials which lay ready to his hand, and by the power of

sympathy woven them, with little modification, into a tragedy

which, for dramatic irony and noble pity, has no equal among

its contemporaries. Great tragedy, it is frequently claimed

to wind and sky, which are the stuff from which great drama is

wrought by the artist, but which, as it would seem, are rapidly

is still to be found continuously, and it is accordingly

thither that the dramatist, who would deal with spiritual life

disengaged from the environment of an intellectual maze, must

go for that experience which will beget in him inspiration for

inspiration are rapidly losing that sense of isolation and

distinction, and which furnished the motivation for Synge's

masterpiece. Whether or not Synge finds a successor, it is

none the less true that in English dramatic literature "Riders

to over-estimate in its accomplishment and its possibilities.

A writer in The Manchester Guardian shortly after Synge's death

masterpiece of our language in our time; wherever it has been

relentlessness. There is a wonderful beauty of speech in the

suggestion is almost unlimited. "In the big world the old

people do be leaving things after them for their sons and

children, but in this place it is the young men do be leaving

things behind for them that do be old." In the quavering

rhythm of these words, there is poignantly present that quality

Irish literary revival, and sets it high in a timeless

atmosphere of universal action.

Its characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be

He dies, and then it is the virtue in life of the women

mothers and wives and sisters to be great in their

loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is great in

her final word.

"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of

the Almighty God. Bartley will have a fine coffin out of the

white boards, and a deep grave surely. What more can we want

than that? No man at all can be living for ever, and we must

be satisfied." The pity and the terror of it all have brought

a great peace, the peace that passeth understanding, and it is

EDWARD J. O'BRIEN.

RIDERS TO THE SEA

A PLAY IN ONE ACT

First performed at the Molesworth Hall, Dublin, February 25th,

1904.

MAURYA (an old woman) . . . Honor Lavelle

BARTLEY (her son) . . . . . W. G. Fay

RIDERS TO THE SEA

A PLAY IN ONE ACT

with nets, oil-skins, spinning wheel, some new boards standing

by the wall, etc. Cathleen, a girl of about twenty, finishes

then wipes her hands, and begins to spin at the wheel. NORA, a

NORA

[In a low voice.]

Where is she?

CATHLEEN

She's lying down, God help her, and may be sleeping, if she's

able.

[Nora comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her

What is it you have?

plain stocking were got off a drowned man in Donegal.

[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out

to listen.]

NORA

will be down looking by the sea.

CATHLEEN

of that way to the far north?

The young priest says he's known the like of it. "If it's

wind.]

CATHLEEN

[Looking out anxiously.]

Did you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the

horses to the Galway fair?

I'll get his shirt off the hook the way we can put the one

flannel on the other [she looks through some clothes hanging in

be?

CATHLEEN

I'm thinking Bartley put it on him in the morning, for his own

shirt was heavy with the salt in it [pointing to the corner].

There's a bit of a sleeve was of the same stuff. Give me that

and it will do.

[Nora brings it to her and they compare the flannel.]

CATHLEEN

It's the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there

great rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many

It's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and

CATHLEEN

[Taking the stocking.]

It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put up

three score stitches, and I dropped four of them.

[Counts the stitches.]

bitter thing to think of him floating that way to the far

man who was a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt

and a plain stocking?

CATHLEEN

[After an instant.]

NORA

[Looking out.]

She is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.

CATHLEEN

Put these things away before she'll come in. Maybe it's easier

she'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't

let on we've heard anything the time he's on the sea.

NORA

[Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]

We'll put them here in the corner.

[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen

CATHLEEN

Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not be on you.

door. Maurya comes in very slowly, without looking at the

girls, and goes over to her stool at the other side of the

fire. The cloth with the bread is still in her hand. The

girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle of

[After spinning for a moment.]

You didn't give him his bit of bread?

[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]

Did you see him riding down?

God forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice

thing that's done? Did you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?

MAURYA

[With a weak voice.]

Did you see Bartley?

MAURYA

CATHLEEN

[Leaves her wheel and looks out.]

God forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head,

and the gray pony behind him.

MAURYA

[Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows

her white tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]

What is it ails you, at all?

I've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the

day Bride Dara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.

Uah.

[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]

NORA

MAURYA

prayer to myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on

I seen Michael himself.

CATHLEEN

[Speaking softly.]

MAURYA

[A little defiantly.]

I'm after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping.

speed you," but something choked the words in my throat. He

went by quickly; and "the blessing of God on you," says he, and

I could say nothing. I looked up then, and I crying, at the

gray pony, and there was Michael upon it -- with fine clothes

on him, and new shoes on his feet.

CATHLEEN

[Begins to keen.]

It's destroyed we are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.

[In a low voice, but clearly.]

coffin out of the white boards, for I won't live after them.

I've had a husband, and a husband's father, and six sons in

this house -- six fine men, though it was a hard birth I had

with every one of them and they coming to the world -- and some

gone now the lot of them. . . There were Stephen, and Shawn,

Gregory of the Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on

the one plank, and in by that door.

something through the door that is half open behind them.]

[In a whisper.]

MAURYA

[Continues without hearing anything.]

There was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again,

women, and three women, and four women coming in, and they

crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then,

in the half of a red sail, and water dripping out of it -- it

[She pauses again with her hand stretched out towards the door.

It opens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing

themselves on the threshold, and kneeling down in front of the

stage with red petticoats over their heads.]

MAURYA

[Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]

Is it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?

There does be a power of young men floating round in the sea,

and what way would they know if it was Michael they had, or

say what man was it.

CATHLEEN

It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit

Michael. Maurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her

hands. NORA looks out.]

They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping

out of it and leaving a track by the big stones.

CATHLEEN

carry in the body of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a

sail over it, and lay it on the table.]

CATHLEEN

[To the women, as they are doing so.]

The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was washed out

where there is a great surf on the white rocks.

[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table.

movement. Cathleen and Nora kneel at the other end of the

table. The men kneel near the door.]

MAURYA

[Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people

around her.]

They're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can

do to me. . . . I'll have no call now to be up crying and

praying when the wind breaks from the south, and you can hear

the surf is in the east, and the surf is in the west, making a

dresser.

MAURYA

[Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles

the Holy Water over him.]

Almighty God. It isn't that I haven't said prayers in the dark

great rest I'll have now, and it's time surely. It's a great

rest I'll have now, and great sleeping in the long nights after

Samhain, if it's only a bit of wet flour we do have to eat, and

[She kneels down again, crossing herself, and saying prayers

eat while you'll be working.

THE OLD MAN

[Looking at the boards.]

Are there nails with them?

It's a great wonder she wouldn't think of the nails, and all

the coffins she's seen made already.

CATHLEEN

[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces

of Michael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the

last of the Holy Water.]

NORA

[In a whisper to Cathleen.]

She's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you

could hear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's

fonder she was of Michael, and would any one have thought that?

isn't it nine days herself is after crying and keening, and

making great sorrow in the house?

[Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her

hands together on Bartley's feet.]

They're all together this time, and the end is come. May the

soul, and on the souls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and

Nora, and on the soul of every one is left living in the world.

[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the

MAURYA

[She kneels down again and the curtain falls slowly.]

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Riders to the Sea by J. M. Synge

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