Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FAMILY'S PRIDE, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FAMILY'S PRIDE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: She has not stirred
Last Line: Katherine. Death has pitied her.


Persons:

MARTHA IRWIN, a widow.
KATHERINE IRWIN, her daughter.
AGNES IRWIN, her daughter-in-law.
EMMA PRUDDAH, a neighbour.

Scene: MARTHA IRWIN'S cottage at dawn.

KATHERINE. She has not stirred,
Nor spoken all the night,
Though I have never left her.
EMMA. I could not sleep for thinking of her face.
My man still slumbers soundly;
And, it's so many nights
Since he has stretched his body on a bed,
I would not waken him.
There's little rest for men at sea,
Cramped in a narrow bunk,
Betwixt the watches,
For an hour or so.
And he has slept beside me,
All night long,
As soundly as a boat becalmed.
And it was good to see him
Sleeping there,
As I recalled the wakeful nights
I'd lain alone.
It's weary waiting for your man's return;
But, when he comes again...
KATHERINE. She has not stirred,
Nor spoken once,
Nor lifted up her eyes
The livelong night;
Nor can I rouse her now.
And she has taken neither bite nor sup.
Agnes, John's wife,
And Michael's lass have been,
Though they, poor wenches,
Were distraught themselves.
But nothing rouses her;
And she has scarcely breathed,
Since first I broke the news to her,
And told her that her sons were drowned.
She stayed at home,
While I went down
To meet the Boats,
Saying, that wives and maids
Should be the first to welcome
The men on their return.
EMMA. 'Twas well she did not go.
KATHERINE. When first I heard the tidings,
I was stunned,
And stood awhile, dumfounded.
Then I remembered...
And I shook myself,
And ran straight home to her,
Lest she should hear of her sons' death
From any stranger's lips.
She stood upon the threshold,
'Waiting them,
A smile of welcome on her face.
But when she saw me come, alone,
She caught her breath,
And looked into my eyes,
And spoke to me,
Ere I could utter aught:
"And has the sea kept all?"
And I...
I could but answer, "All!"
She asked no more,
But turned upon her heel,
And went indoors,
And sat down by the hearth.
She has not stirred,
Nor spoken since to me;
Though once I heard her
Murmur to herself
Her dead sons' names,
Slowly, as though she feared
Lest they should slip her memory.
"John, William, Michael, Mark, and little Pete,"
She murmured to herself;
And neither stirred nor spake again.
EMMA. It's well that you are left her.
KATHERINE. My name she did not breathe.
I'm naught to her;
She never cared for me.
Her sons were all-in-all to her.
I grudged them not her whole heart's love...
My brothers!...
Now I've none but her,
And she has no one left
To keep life in her heart.
EMMA. Nay, do not say so;
You're her daughter, lass.
KATHERINE. Her sons were all-in-all,
And they are dead.
'Twas strange she never asked me how they died;
She must have seen them drowning
In my eyes.
And I have told her nothing more,
For she has asked me nothing.
And yet, what should she ask?
What was there left to tell her heart?
Her mother's heart knew all,
Ere aught was told.
EMMA. Lass, 'twas a cruel storm.
My husband scarce escaped.
The Family's Pride
...
KATHERINE. Nay, spare me, neighbour, now.
I cannot listen to that tale again --
I, who have looked upon that face all night,
And harkened for a word from those dumb lips.
Had she but wept,
Or spoken once to me,
I might have helped her somewhat,
Even I.
Oh, how I long to lay that aching brow
In slumber on my breast.
And yet,
I dare not lay my hand on her,
Lest she turn round on me,
And realise
That only I am left her.
EMMA [going to the door]. Agnes comes,
And brings her babe with her.
Perhaps the boy will rouse your mother.

[To AGNES, as she enters.]

Lass, lay him in her lap.
He'll rouse the spark of life in her,
And wake her from her brooding on the dead.

[AGNES goes forward without speaking, and lays the
child in its grandmother's lap. MARTHA IRWIN gazes at
it, then takes it to her breast, looking up at AGNES.]

MARTHA. Yes, I will tend the boy,
While you go down...
To meet your husband, Agnes.
Lass, away!
The Boats will soon be in,
And you will be the first to greet...
My son ... your husband...
For he's yours...
As well as mine...
And I must share with you.
The Boats will soon be in,
And soon my eyes shall look upon my sons --
My bonnie sons...
John, William, Michael, Mark,
And little Pete...
Though even Peter is not little now;
He's a grown man,
Though he's my youngest son.
And still...
It seems but such a little while
Since I held John,
My eldest,
In my arms,
As now...
I hold his son.
But ... lass ... away!
To greet ... your husband...
And ... my son...
AGNES. O God, have pity!
EMMA. She does not know what she is saying;
Her grief has been too much for her.
MARTHA. Away ... away...
You'll be too late...
But, Katherine,
Stay with me...
I think...
I've suddenly grown old,
And I would have you with me...
Till ... they come.
EMMA. Look to the child!
She doesn't know...
'Twill fall!
AGNES. Nay, but I have it safe.
EMMA. The end is not far off.
KATHERINE. Come, mother,
Lay your head upon my bosom.
MARTHA. Ah, daughter, is that you?
Yes, I am weary...
And would rest awhile...
I hope they'll come
Before it's cold...
And you have set five plates?
And not forgotten Peter's knife?
The Boats will soon be in...
And I shall look upon my sons,
Once more, before I die...
For I am nigh death, Katherine...
Hark ... they come...
Their feet are on the threshold...
Katherine, quick...
Fling the door wide...
That I ... may look...
On them...
My sons...
My sons...
Oh!
KATHERINE. Death has pitied her.





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