|Photo by Franc.c https://www.flickr.com/photos/francz/|
Here is how I imagine the moment when Yeats first glimpsed the place that inspired his Mysteries.
EXT: IRELAND. A lLARGE LAKE. SUMMER 1892 - MORNING.
YEATS and DOUGLAS HYDE, 35, a tall bearded man of great dignity and presence, are boating together on Lough Key in County Roscommon. A heavy mist rises from the lake.
Hyde rows with great ease and precision.
Yeats leans back in the boat and gazing up toward the sky.
There are forces, mighty forces, that can do more for the revolution than my words will ever accomplish alone!
Your occult experiments are a distraction - it is your poetry that should fill your days - and your nights!
Hydes’ voice deepens.
Be careful of what you are asked to sacrifice so that you may gain this magic!
At that moment Yeats turns toward the lakes' center, watching as the wind sweeps away the mist to reveal a small island.
As he sees the abandoned Castle on the island he remembers Gonne's words from an earlier time.
FLASHBACK - EXT. IRELAND. A RUGGEDLY BEAUTIFUL SPOT FULL OF OLD STONES AND TREES. - MORNING
Gonne and Yeats walk together, hands clasped.
If only we could make contact with the hidden forces of the land it would give us strength for the freeing of Ireland. The land will help us expel our enemy. England, like the ancient Fir Bolg, will flee when our true gods empower us!
The wind on the hill blows through Gonne's dark hair and her eyes shine with her passion.
EXT. THE LAKE.
I see a tower in the middle of a lake, a shrine of Irish tradition where only those who dedicate their lives to this great land can go. It will be built of stone and decorated only with the Jewels of the Tuatha Dé Danann!
Yeats stands up in the boat and turns to Hyde.
There! That of which my muse has spoken! An obsession more constant than anything but my love itself is the need for mystical rites ... to reunite the perception of the spirit, of the divine, with natural beauty ...
Sit down, man - you'll topple us both over! You are right about one thing - this land is holy and each of us must find our way to serve that holiness.
Yeats sits reluctantly and looks at Hyde. His voice rises with excitement.
This is my destiny, Hyde. There are those who will serve with guns, and others with speeches, but as I serve magic so will magic serve Ireland!
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