This threshold worn away by many a foot
Has been passed only by the snails and birds
And by our own poor hunger-shaken feet.
[The COUNTESS CATHLEEN, ALEEL, who carries a small square harp, OONA, and a little group of fantastically dressed musicians come in.
CATHLEEN.
Are you so hungry?
TEIG.
[From beside the fire.]
Lady, I fell but now,
And lay upon the threshold like a log.
I have not tasted a crust for these four days.