FATHER JOHN: Tell me what you have seen where you have been.
MARTIN: There were horses … white horses rushing by, with white, shining riders … there was a horse without a rider, and someone caught me up and put me upon him, and we rode away, with the wind, like the wind….
FATHER JOHN: That is a common imagining. I know many poor persons have seen that.
MARTIN: We went on, on, on … we came to a sweet-smelling garden with a gate to it … and there were wheat-fields in full ear around … and there were vineyards like I saw in France, and the grapes in bunches … I thought it to be one of the town-lands of heaven. Then I saw the horses we were on had changed to unicorns, and they began trampling the grapes and breaking them … I tried to stop them, but I could not.
FATHER JOHN: That is strange, that is strange. What is it that brings to mind … I heard it in some place, _Monocoros di Astris_, the Unicorn from the Stars.
MARTIN: They tore down the wheat and trampled it on stones, and then they tore down what were left of the grapes and crushed and bruised and trampled them … I smelt the wine, it was flowing on every side … then everything grew vague … I cannot remember clearly … everything was silent … the trampling now stopped … we were all waiting for some command. Oh! was it given! I was trying to hear it … there was some one dragging, dragging me away from that … I am sure there was a command given … and there was a great burst of laughter. What was it? What was the command? Everything seemed to tremble around me.
FATHER JOHN: Did you awake then?
MARTIN: I do not think I did … it all changed … it was terrible, wonderful. I saw the unicorns trampling, trampling … but not in the wine troughs…. Oh, I forget! Why did you waken me?
FATHER JOHN: I did not touch you. Who knows what hands pulled you away? I prayed; that was all I did. I prayed very hard that you might awake. If I had not, you might have died. I wonder what it all meant. The unicorns … what did the French monk tell me … strength they meant … virginal strength, a rushing, lasting, tireless strength.
MARTIN: They were strong…. Oh, they made a great noise with their trampling!
FATHER JOHN: And the grapes … what did they mean?… It puts me in mind of the psalm … _Ex calix meus inebrians quam praeclarus est._ It was a strange vision, a very strange vision, a very strange vision.
MARTIN: How can I get back to that place?
from
The Unicorn from the Stars and Other Plays by W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)