They begin a song
And there is still some music on their tongues.
OONA.
[Casting herself face downwards on the floor.]
O maker of all, protect her from the demons,
And if a soul must needs be lost, take mine.
[ALEEL kneels beside her, but does not seem to hear her words; he is gazing down as if through the earth. The peasants return. They carry the COUNTESS CATHLEEN and lay her upon the ground before OONA and ALEEL. She lies there as if dead.]
O that so many pitchers of rough clay
Should prosper and the porcelain break in two!