Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE NIGHT-SHIFT, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: My son Last Line: A fine big boy he is. | ||||||||
Persons: JENNY CRASTER, Robert Craster's wife. TAMAR CRASTER, Robert Craster's mother. MAGGIE THOMSON, a neighbour. LIZZIE THOMSON, her daughter. Scene: ROBERT CRASTER'S cottage, in the early morning. JENNY CRASTER lies in bed, her newborn baby by her side. Her eyes are closed, and she seems barely conscious. TAMAR CRASTER stands at the door talking with MAGGIE THOMSON. TAMAR. My son! But, hush! She must not hear; 'Twould be the death of her. 'Twill take her all her time, poor lass, To pull through as it is. And, if she heard, her husband... But it's not true... Oh, say it is not true! MAGGIE. Ay, Tamar, it is true enough; And there's but little hope That any man will leave the pit alive. TAMAR. My son! She must not hear a whisper; The news would kill her, and her newborn babe. MAGGIE. Sooner or later, She must know, poor soul! TAMAR. Ay, but not yet; For she's in need of sleep. When there's no help, And she must know, Then 'twill be time enough To break the news to her. Perhaps, when she has slept a bit, She will be strong to bear much That's now beyond her strength. MAGGIE. Well, I'm away! My man has gone already To see if there's a chance of doing aught. Thank God, he's on the day-shift! If he'd been in the pit... But he was sleeping soundly, Beside me, snug in bed, Until the rumbling roused us; When he leapt up and ran Nigh naked to the pit. I had to stay and hush the children To sleep again; The noise had startled them. And then I came to tell you. There's scarce a body left In all the village. The cottages were empty, And every door ajar, As I came by; For all the women-folk Have run to the pit-head. And I must go; I cannot stay behind, Not knowing what is happening. If there is any news, I'll bring you word; Although it's feared There's little hope of rescue. [She goes out, closing the door behind her.] TAMAR. Robert, my son! But I must breathe no word, Lest she should hear. She must not know my son's in peril; For he's her husband. The women-folk are gathered round the shaft -- Poor wives and mothers, Waiting and watching, And hoping against hope. Would that I, too, watched with them -- A mother 'mid the mothers -- To share with them what little hope there may be. But I must bide at home, Alone with her I dare not speak to, Or breathe a word of all my fears to. Nay, I must keep them to myself, Even though my heart... My son's in danger, Yet I dare not go... No longer he belongs to me alone; For he's her husband and a father now: And I must stay To tend his wife and son. JENNY [opening her eyes and speaking in a whisper]. Is Robert not home yet? TAMAR. Nay, daughter... He's not home yet. JENNY. What time is it? TAMAR. It's nearly... Nay... [She goes to the clock on the wall and holds the pendulum until it stops.] The clock has stopt. JENNY. I thought I heard it ticking; Though now I cannot hear it. Still, it seems almost light; And he should not be long. How pleased he'll be to have a boy! I hope that they'll not tell him, Before he reaches home. I'd like to see his face, When first he learns That he's the father of a son. He'll soon be home ... be home... My babe! He'll be so pleased. I hope... That they'll not tell him... TAMAR. Nay ... they'll not tell. But you must not talk now, For you're too weakly, And should save yourself. Until... JENNY. Until he comes. Yes, I'll lie very quiet, And save myself that I may see him, When he first learns... But there's a sound of tapping... Do you not hear it? TAMAR. Nay, lass, I hear nothing. JENNY. I thought it was the clock. TAMAR. The clock has stopt. JENNY. It must be in my head then. It keeps on tapping ... tapping... He'll soon be home. But I'm so tired, And cannot keep awake. I'll sleep... Till he comes home. And, Tamar, you'll be sure to waken me The moment he comes home? You'll not forget? TAMAR. Nay, lass, I'll not forget. JENNY [drowsily sinking back into unconsciousness]. It keeps on tapping ... tapping... Tap ... tap ... tap ... tap... TAMAR. Till he comes home... Ah, God, how shall I tell her! For I must tell her soon; I cannot keep it from her long. And I, his mother, Must be the first to tell his wife That he... But he may come yet... And she must know naught now. For she's too weakly, And 'twould kill her outright; And, after all, He may come home again, Before there's any need to tell her aught. When there's no help, And she must know, Then 'twill be soon enough... She'll have a longer spell than I To bear it... She is young! And I ... I seem quite old, So suddenly! She said she heard a sound of tapping... She might have heard my heart almost, It beat so loudly at my side While she was speaking of my son, Her husband, And wondering, poor soul... But, may he not come safe home after all? She may speak truly, when she says He'll soon be home. And yet... She heard a sound of tapping... While I heard nothing -- Nothing save my heart, My old heart dinning in my ears. JENNY [sitting up suddenly in bed and gazing into vacancy]. Hark! There it is again... A sound of tapping... I hear it tapping, tapping... Like a pick... Tap ... tap ... tap ... tap... TAMAR. A pick... Ah, God! Nay, daughter; there is nothing. You must lie quiet now, Or you... JENNY. Tap ... tap... It goes on tapping, tapping, In the dark... It's dark ... so dark; And I can scarcely breathe, The darkness lies so heavily upon me, As though I wandered somewhere underground, With all the earth above me, With great rocks hanging overhead, So close that my hair brushes them, Although I cannot see them; And I can touch them with my hand... Oh, they are falling, falling... I've pulled them down on me... The great black rocks... [She sinks back exhausted.] TAMAR. Nay, lass, you're lying in your bed, Your own warm bed, Beside your little son. JENNY [drowsily]. My little son! When he comes home He'll be so pleased... But still I hear a sound Of tapping... Tap ... tap ... tap ... tap... [She dozes over.] TAMAR. My son! Nay, there's no hope, For she hears something... Something that I cannot. The wife's heart hears What the old mother's may not, Because it beats too loudly. [She sits for a while gazing into the fire.] JENNY [sitting up again suddenly]. Will no one stop that tapping? I cannot sleep for it. I think that some one is shut in somewhere, And trying to get out. Will no one let them out, And stop the tapping? It keeps on tapping, tapping... Tap ... tap ... tap ... tap... And I can scarcely breathe, The darkness is so thick. It stifles me, And weighs so heavily upon me, And drips, and drips... My hair is wet already; There's water all about my knees. I cannot see it, But I feel it creeping, Higher and higher, Cold as death, about me: I cannot see it, But I hear it swishing At every step, And feel it dripping cold -- The darkness dripping down upon me, So cold, so cold. And yet ... I cannot breathe... The darkness is so thick, so hot: It's like a furnace-blast Upon my brow; And weighs so heavily, As though great rocks were hanging overhead! And dripping, dripping... I cannot lift my feet, The water holds them, It's creeping ... creeping... My wet hair drags me down. Ah, God! Will no one stop that tapping... I cannot sleep... And I would sleep Till he comes home... Tap ... tap ... tap ... tap... [Sinks back exhausted.] TAMAR. O God, have mercy on her ... and on me! She hears, And yet, She knows not what she hears. But I, Though I hear nothing, I know all. Robert, my son! JENNY [starting up again]. I cannot breathe The darkness is so thick -- So thick and hot, It stifles me... Ah, God! Ah, God! The darkness is ablaze. The rocks are falling, falling... The great, black, dripping rocks... And I am falling... [A pause.] And there's some one tapping, As though they would be in. Why don't you let him in? It is my husband; He would see his son -- His firstborn son. Can you not hear a tapping, tapping? It's like the tapping of a pick... Tap ... tap... But it grows fainter: Now I cannot hear it. The darkness has come down on me. I sink ... I sink... [She lies back exhausted.] TAMAR. She does not hear it now. And now ... it almost seems As if ... my heart had stopt... I cannot breathe... But she is sleeping soundly, And sleep will give her strength. She's scarcely slept, Since he was born -- The poor wee babe! -- And he is sleeping too. I would that I were in as deep a slumber, For I am weary... Yet, how could I sleep? They sleep, Because they do not know, But I ... I know. Robert, my son! [She sits gazing into the fire. After a while JENNY wakens and looks about her.] JENNY. My little son, Your father'll soon be home. He'll be so pleased... But he should be home now, For it is light. Has Robert not come home yet? TAMAR. Not ... yet... JENNY. What time... TAMAR. The clock has stopt. JENNY. I wonder what can keep him. It is light... TAMAR. Nay, woman, it's not light yet. It's dark ... quite dark... You're weakly still; And you've been wandering; And now you're talking foolishness. You must not speak; But go to sleep again, And waken well and strong. JENNY. It seems quite light... TAMAR. Nay ... it is dark ... God knows! JENNY [drowsily]. I think that I could sleep again -- Sleep ... till he comes. [She sinks into a deeper slumber. TAMAR sits for a while, gazing into the fire with vacant eyes. Suddenly she speaks, her voice little more than a whisper, and tries to rise, but falls forward on to the hearthrug, and lies motionless.] TAMAR. It's dark ... quite dark... Robert ... my son! [Time passes; presently a sound of voices is heard without; the door opens quietly, and MAGGIE THOMSON enters, followed by her daughter, LIZZIE.] MAGGIE. Tamar ... where are you? Quick, lass, ... she's fallen! She must have fainted... The shock... [They turn TAMAR'S face to the light and loosen her bodice.] O God! She does not breathe; Her heart has failed her. And I -- I left her here alone... His mother... LIZZIE. The clock has stopt. MAGGIE. Look to the wife... She may... LIZZIE. She's sleeping quietly. MAGGIE. Poor Jennie! And her babe is fatherless. LIZZIE. He's snuggled to her breast, And sleeping soundly. A fine big boy he is. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BETWEEN THE LINES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON BREAKFAST by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON FLANNAN ISLE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON FOR G. by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON GERANIUMS by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON LAMENT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON RETREAT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON RUPERT BROOKE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE GORSE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE ICE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON |
|