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OLD CELTIC ROMANCES

translated from the gaelic

BY

P.W. JOYCE, M.A., LL.D., T.C.D. M.R.I.A.

One of the Commissioners for the Publication of the Ancient Laws of Ireland

President of the Royal Society of Antiquaries, Ireland

Author of

"A SOCIAL HISTORY OF ANCIENT IRELAND" "THE STORY OF ANCIENT IRISH CIVILISATION" "A SHORT HISTORY OF IRELAND"

"A CHILD'S HISTORY OF IRELAND" "IRISH NAMES OF PLACES" "ANCIENT IRISH MUSIC"

AND OTHER WORKS RELATING TO IRELAND "I shall tell you a pretty tale"

--Coriolanus. DUBLIN

THE EDUCATIONAL CO. OF IRELAND, LIMITED

89 TALBOT STREET LONDON

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND COMPANY

39 PATERNOSTER ROW

1920 [iii] PREFACE.

Among the Celtic people of Ireland and the north-west of Scotland, story-telling has always been a favourite amusement. In the olden time, they had professional story-tellers, variously designated according to rank--ollaves, shanachies, files, bards, etc.--whose duty it was to know by heart a number of old tales, poems, and historical pieces, and to recite them at festive gatherings, for the entertainment of the chiefs and their guests. These story-tellers were always well received at the houses of princes and chiefs, and treated with much consideration; and on occasions when they acquitted themselves well, so as to draw down the applause of the audience, they were often rewarded with costly presents.

To meet the demand for this sort of entertainment, ingenious "men of learning," taking legends or historical events as themes, com-posed stories from time to time; of which those that struck the popular fancy were caught up and remembered, and handed down[iv] from one generation of story-tellers to another. In course of time, a body of romantic literature grew up, consisting chiefly of prose tales, which were classified, according to subject, into Battles, Voyages, Tragedies, Military Expeditions, Cattle-Raids, Courtships, Pursuits, Adventures, Visions, etc.[I.]

Some of these tales were historical, i.e. founded on historical events, and corresponded closely with what is now called the historical romance; while others were altogether fictitious--pure creations of the imagination. But it is to be observed that even in the fictitious tales, the main characters are always historical, or such as were considered so. The old ollaves wove their fictions round Conor Mac Nessa and his Red Branch Knights, or Finn and his Fena, or Luga of the Long Arms and his Dedannans, or Conn the Hundred-fighter, or Cormac Mac Art; like the Welsh legends of Arthur and his Round Table, or the Arabian romances of Haroun-al-Raschid and his Court. The greater number of the tales were, as I have said, in prose. But some were in poetry; and in many of the prose tales the leading characters are often made to express themselves in verse, or some striking incident of the story is repeated in a poetical[v] form. Not unfrequently the fragments of verse introduced into a prose tale are quotations from an older poetical version of the same tale; and hence it often happens that while the prose may be plain enough, the poetry is often archaic and obscure. At some very early period in Ireland--how early we have now no means of determining with certainty--Celtic thought began to be committed to writing; and as everything seems to have been written down that was considered worth preserving, manuscripts accumulated in course of time, which were kept either in monasteries, or in the houses of the hereditary professors of learning. But in the dark time of the Danish ravages, and during the troubled centuries that followed the Anglo-Norman invasion, the manuscript collections were gradually dispersed, and a large proportion lost or destroyed. Yet we have remaining--rescued by good fortune from the general wreck--a great body of manuscript literature. Our two most important collections are those in Trinity College and 1 in the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin; where we have manuscripts of various ages, from the year 1100 down to the present century, on every conceivable subject--Annals, History, Biography, Theology, Romance, Legend, Science, etc. These manuscripts, which, it should be remarked, are nearly all copies from older books, contain a vast collection of romantic literature: it may, indeed, be said that there is scarcely one important event in our early history, or one important native personage or native[vi] legend, that has not been made the subject of some fanciful story. The volume I now offer to the notice of the public contains eleven tales, selected and translated from the manuscripts of Trinity College and of the Royal Irish Academy. Some have been already published, with original text and literal translation, and are to be found in the Transactions of various literary societies, where, however, they are inaccessible to the general run of readers; and even if they were accessible, they are almost unreadable, the translations having been executed, not for literary, but for linguistic purposes. Others have never been translated or given to the public in any shape or form till now. Of the whole collection of eleven tales, therefore, it may be said that they are quite new to the general mass of the reading public. And furthermore, this is the first collection of the old Gaelic prose romances that has ever been published in fair English translation. Scraps and fragments of some of these tales have been given to the world in popular publications, by writers who, not being able to read the originals, took their information from printed books in the English language. But I am forced to say that many of these specimens have been presented in a very unfavourable and unjust light--distorted to make them look funny, and their characters de-based to the mere modern conventional stage Irishman. There is[vii] none of this silly and odious vulgarity in the originals of these fine old tales, which are high and dignified in tone and feeling--quite as much so as the old romantic tales of Greece and Rome.[II.] A translation may either follow the very words, or reproduce the life and spirit, of the original; but no translation can do both. If you render word for word, you lose the spirit; if you wish to give the spirit and manner, you must depart from the exact words, and frame your own phrases. I have chosen this latter course. My translation follows the original closely enough in narrative and incident; but so far as mere phraseology is concerned, I have used the English language freely, not allowing myself to be trammelled by too close an adherence to the very words of the text. The originals are in general simple in style; and I have done my best to render them into simple, plain, homely English. In short, I have tried to tell the stories as I conceive the old shanachies themselves would have told them, if they had used English instead of Gaelic. [viii] In the originals, the stories run on without break or subdivision;[III.] but I have thought it better to divide the longer ones into chapters, with appropriate headings. In almost all cases I had at my command several copies of the same story, some of them differing in phraseology and in minor points of detail, though agreeing, in the main, in narrative and incident. I found this a considerable advantage, as it gave me more freedom in the choice of expression. I have made full use of the literal translations of those tales that have been already published in the Transactions of the Ossianic Society, in the Atlantis, in the Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy, and in the Journal of the Royal Historical and Archaeological Association of Ireland. But, in order to secure the advantage of various readings, I compared, in every case, the published text with at least one copy of the story, in the Royal Irish Academy, in Trinity College, or in my own private manuscript collection. The ancient institution of professional story-telling held its ground both in Ireland and in Scotland down to a very recent period; and it is questionable if it be even yet quite extinct. Within my own memory,[ix] this sort of entertainment was quite usual among the farming classes of the south of Ireland. The family and workmen, and any neighbours that chose to drop in, would sit round the kitchen fire after the day's work--or perhaps gather in a barn on a summer or autumn evening--to listen to some local shanachie reciting one of his innumerable Gaelic tales. The story-teller never chose his own words--he always had the story by heart, and recited the words from memory, often gliding into a sort of recitative in poetical passages, or when he came to some favourite grandiose description abounding in high-sounding alliterative adjectives. And very interesting it was to mark the rapt attention of the audience, and to hear their excited exclamations when the speaker came to relate some mighty combat, some great exploit of the hero, or some other striking incident. Three years ago, I met a man in Kilkee, who had a great number of these stories by heart, and who actually repeated for me, without the slightest hitch or hesitation, more than half--and if I had not stopped him would have given me the whole--of "Cuirt an Mheadhon-Oidhche" ("The Midnight Court"), a poem about six times as long as Gray's "Elegy." I will now proceed to give a few particulars concerning these tales, including a short account of the manuscript or manuscripts from which each has been translated. [x] THE THREE TRAGIC STORIES OF ERIN. Among the ancient Gaelic tales, three were known as "the three most sorrowful (tales) of story-telling," or "The Three Tragic Stories of Erin;" viz., "The Fate of the Children of Usna," "The Fate of the Children of Lir," and "The Fate of the Children of Turenn." I have not included the first in this volume, but a poetical version of it has been written and published by my brother.[IV.] THE FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF LIR. Two translations of this tale have been published: one literal, with the Gaelic text, by Professor O'Curry, in the Atlantis (Nos. vii. and viii.); and another, less literal, by Gerald Griffin, in his "Tales of a Jury-Room." The oldest known copies of the tale are, one in the Catholic University, Dublin, made by Andrew Mac Curtin, a well-known Gaelic 2 scholar and scribe of the county Clare, who lived between 1680 and 1740; one in Trinity College, Dublin, made by Hugh O'Daly, in 1758; and one in the British Museum, made by Richard Tipper of Dublin, in 1718.[V.] There is also a very good copy in the Royal Irish Academy (23. C. 26), of which I made considerable use, written in or about 1782, by Peter O'Connell, a good Gaelic scholar of the county Clare. From a comparison of several of these versions, O'Curry made his copy of the text as published in the Atlantis. There may be, and there probably are, older copies, in Trinity College, in the British Museum, or elsewhere, if we knew only where to find them. And this observation applies to several of the tales that follow, of which we have at hand only modern copies. THE FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF TURENN. In the Book of Lecan (folio 28), which was compiled by the Mac Firbises, about a.d. 1416, is a short account, partly in prose and partly in verse, of the celebrated eric-fine imposed on the three[xi] sons of Turenn, by Luga of the Long Arms, for killing his father Kian; but this old book does not give the story of the quest for the fine. The full tale, text and literal translation, has been published by O'Curry in the Atlantis. There are several good copies in the Royal Irish Academy: one in 23. G. 10, transcribed by Patrick Brown of the county Clare, in 1805; another in 23. E. 16, written out by Michael Oge O'Longan, in 1797; and a third (imperfect) in 23. M. 47, copied by Andrew Mac Curtin, in 1734. There are references to these three sons of Turenn, and to the manner of their death, in two very old authorities, viz., Cormac's "Glossary" (about a.d. 900); and a poem by Flann of Monaster-boice (who died a.d. 1056), a copy of which is in the Book of Leinster, written about a.d. 1130. In the older references to the sons of Turenn, they are called Brian, Iuchar, Iucharba; but in some comparatively modern copies of the tale the names are a little different--for instance, Peter O'Connell calls them Uar, Iuchar, and Iucharba; and they vary still further in other copies. I have taken advantage of this variety to give the names in a more pronounceable form in my translation. In the original, this tale is introduced by an anecdote of Nuada of the Silver Hand and the two great Dedannan leeches, Midac and Armedda (see page 92, infra), which has nothing whatever to do with the story, and which I have omitted. THE OVERFLOWING OF LOUGH NEAGH. "Leabhar na h-Uidhre," or "The Book of the Dun Cow," from which this and the two following tales are taken, is the oldest manuscript of miscellaneous Gaelic literature we possess. It was transcribed from older books by Maelmuire Mac Ceilechair, who died a.d. 1106; and it is now deposited in the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin--or rather, I should say, a large fragment of it, for the book has suffered much mutilation. This venerable book may now be said to be in the hands of the public, as it has been lately reproduced in lithograph fac-simile, and published by the Council of the Royal Irish Academy, at the Government expense. The story of "The Overflowing of Lough Neagh" (called in the original "The Destruction of Eocho Mac Mairedo") has been[xii] published, with text and literal translation, by the late J. O'Beirne Crowe, in the Kilkenny Archaeological Journal volume for 1870-1. In this story I have been obliged to make a few transpositions in the mere order of the incidents, for the narrative in the original is in some places very ill arranged. It is now nearly eight hundred years since this story was transcribed from some old authority into "The Book of the Dun Cow;" and it is singular that the tradition of the formation of Lough Neagh, by the overflow of an enchanted well which was neglected by the woman in charge of it, still maintains a vivid existence among the peasantry. (See on this subject the author's "Origin and History of Irish Names of Places," Series I. 4th edition, page 176.) CONNLA OF THE GOLDEN HAIR, AND THE FAIRY MAIDEN. This tale (called in the original "Echtra Condla Cain," "The Adventures of Connla the Comely") is taken from "The Book of the Dun Cow." It has been published, with text and literal translation, by the late J. O'Beirne Crowe, in the Kilkenny Archaeological Journal (volume 1874-5, page 128). This is one of the many tales that illustrate the ancient and widespread superstition that fairies sometimes take away mortals to their palaces in the fairy forts and pleasant green hills;[19] of which the last story in this book--"Oisin in Tirnanoge"--is another example. This superstition prevailed in Ireland and the Scottish Highlands as far back as either history or tradition reaches; it flourished in full vigour within my own memory; and it is scarcely quite extinct--in Ireland at least--at the present day.[VI.] In connection with the antiquity of this superstition, it must be borne in mind that the present story was transcribed into "The Book of the Dun Cow" in or about the year 1100, from some older book; and that it relates to the time of Conn the Hundred-fighter, king of Ireland, who reigned in the second century of the Christian era. [xiii] THE VOYAGE OF MAILDUN. Of this tale (which is now given to the public for the first time) the oldest copy is in "The Book of the Dun Cow" (about the year 1100); but it is imperfect at both beginning and end--a portion having been torn away when the book was mutilated at some former time. There is a perfect copy in the Yellow Book of Lecan, in Trinity College, Dublin, and another in the British Museum (MS. Harl. 5280). After I had made a rough translation of the greater part of this piece, I discovered a good literal translation in manuscript in the Royal Irish Academy, made by the late J. O'Beirne Crowe, which was of great use to me, as it helped to explain some strange terms, 3 and to clear up some obscure passages. This voyage would appear from internal evidence to have been made in the beginning of the eighth century (O'Curry says about the year 700); for I think it likely that Maildun did actually go on a voyage, which was afterwards made the framework of the story. On my translation of this tale, Lord Tennyson founded his poem "The Voyage of Maeldune." Of the Imrama or voluntary sea expeditions (to which the present story belongs) there are, according to O'Curry (Lect. MS. Mat. 289), only four remaining, all very ancient. Of these the best known is the "Voyage of St. Brendan," undertaken in the sixth century, which was at one time celebrated all over Europe, and which has been lately made the theme of a fine poem by Denis Florence Mc-Carthy. Another of these Imrama is the "Voyage of the Sons of O'Corra," which has been described at some length by Professor O'Curry (Lect. MS. Mat. 289). Of this I have a copy which I made from the MS. 23. M. 50, Royal Irish Academy (and which I afterwards carefully compared with another copy lent me by my friend, Mr. W. M. Hennessy). I made a translation of this story, intending to print it in the present volume; but as there is a much older and better copy in the ancient "Book of Fermoy," which I had not time to consult in detail, I have thought it better to hold back for the present the strange adventures of the sons of O'Corra. A beautiful poetical translation of the whole tale has been made by Mr. T.D. Sullivan of Dublin, and published in his volume of Poems. [xiv] THE FAIRY PALACE OF THE QUICKEN TREES. The "Bruighean Caerthainn," or "The Fairy Palace of the Quicken Trees," which is now translated for the first time, is one of the most popular of the Gaelic romances. I had three of the Royal Irish Academy MSS. before me when translating it--viz., 23. C. 30, transcribed in 1733, by the Irish writer and lexicographer, Andrew Mac Curtin of the county Clare; 24. B. 15, written in 1841; and 23. L. 24, copied in 1766, by Dermot O'Mulqueen of the county Clare. This is one of a type of stories very common in Gaelic romantic literature:--One or more of the heroes are entrapped by some enchanter and held under a spell in a castle, or a cave, or a dungeon; till, after a series of adventures, they are released by the bravery or mother-wit of some of their companions. "The Chase of Slieve Fuad" and "The Chase of Slieve Cullinn" are two other examples of this class of Gaelic tales. THE PURSUIT OF THE GILLA DACKER AND HIS HORSE. This is a humorous story of a trick--a very serious practical joke--played by Avarta, a Dedannan enchanter, on sixteen of the Fena, whom he carried off to "The Land of Promise;" and of the adventures of Finn, Dermat O'Dyna, and the others, in their pursuit of Avarta (who had taken the shape of the Gilla Dacker) to recover their companions. It may be regarded as belonging to the same class as the last story. O'Curry described the opening of this tale in his Lectures (MS. Mat. 316); and he was the first, so far as I know, to draw attention to it. I think it strange that such a story should not have been noticed before by writers on Gaelic literature; for as a work of imagination, it seems to me a marvellous and very beautiful creation. The battles fought by the king of Sorca, aided by Finn and his Fena, against the King of the World, are described at much length in the original; but I have cut them down to a very short compass; and I have omitted altogether a long episode towards the end, which travels away from the main story. [xv] This tale has never been translated till now. I translated it chiefly from the Royal Irish Academy MS., 24. B. 28, a well-written manuscript, which was copied out by Edmond Terry, in 1728: but I kept another good copy beside me for comparison, viz., that contained in the Royal Irish Academy MS., 23. G. 21, written in 1795, by Michael Oge O'Longan of Cork, father of Mr. Joseph O'Longan, now the Irish scribe in the Royal Irish Academy, and the transcriber in fac-simile of "Leabhar na h-Uidhre," "Leabhar Breac," and "Leabhar Laighneach." THE PURSUIT OF DERMAT AND GRANIA. This tale is one of those mentioned in the list contained in the Book of Leinster, which was written about a.d. 1130 (see note, page iv.); but though this proves the tale to be an ancient one, I have never come across a copy older than the last century. "The Pursuit of Dermat and Grania" has been published, with text and a very racy idiomatic literal translation, by Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady, in the Transactions of the Ossianic Society for 1855, from a comparison of two manuscripts, one of 1780 and the other of 1842. In addition to Mr. O'Grady's published text, I made use of another good copy (MS. Royal Irish Academy, 23. G. 21) written in 1795, by Michael Oge O'Longan, already spoken of. I cannot help believing that this fine story originally ended with the death of Dermat; though in all the current versions (including Mr. O'Grady's printed text) there is an additional part recounting the further proceedings of Grania and her sons, after the death of the hero. But this part is in every respect inferior to the rest--in language, in feeling, and in play of imagination. It seems to me very clear that it was patched on to the original story by some unskilful hand; and I have accordingly omitted it, and ended the story with the death of Dermat. I have also omitted two short episodes--that of the cnumh or reptile of Corca Divna, as a mere excrescence; and Finn's expedition to Scotland for aid against Dermat. And, for the sake of clearness, I have slightly changed the place of that part of the tale which recounts the origin of the Fairy Quicken Tree of Dooros. There are one or two other trifling but very neces- 4 sary modifications, which need not be mentioned here. [xvi] THE CHASE OF SLIEVE CULLINN: THE CHASE OF SLIEVE FUAD: OISIN IN TIRNANOGE. In the original Gaelic these are three poetical tales. All three have been printed, with Gaelic text and literal translation, in the Transac- tions of the Ossianic Society: the two first by the late John O'Daly, and "Oisin in Tirnanoge" by Professor O'Looney. There are many good copies of these tales in the manuscripts of the Royal Irish Academy; though of not one of them have I seen a copy older than the last century. "The Chase of Slieve Cullinn" (commonly known as "The Poem of the Chase") has been translated into English verse by Miss Brooke; and there is another metrical translation in the Irish Penny Journal (page 93). And of "Oisin in Tirnanoge," Mr. T.D. Sullivan has given a graceful poetical rendering in his volume of Poems, already mentioned. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. In this edition there is an additional tale, "The Fate of the Sons of Usna," a notice of which will be found at page x, above. Lyre-na-Grena, Leinster Road, Rathmines, 1907. [xvii] CONTENTS. The Fate of the Children of Lir; or, The Four White Swans. CHAPTER PAGE I. Bove Derg chosen King of the Dedannans, 1 II. The Children of Lir,4 III. The Four Children of Lir are turned into Four White Swans by their Stepmother, 6 IV. The Four White Swans on Lake Darvra, 10 V. The Four White Swans on the Sea of Moyle, 18 VI. The Four White Swans on the Western Sea, 26 VII. The Children of Lir regain their Human Shape and die, 32 The Fate of the Children of Turenn; or, The Quest for the Eric-Fine. I. The Lochlanns invade Erin, 37 II. The Murder of Kian, 42 III. Defeat and Flight of the Lochlanns, 47 IV. The Eric-Fine on the Sons of Turenn for the Slaying of Kian, 51 V. The Sons of Turenn obtain Mannanan's Canoe, the Wave-Sweeper, 60 VI. The Apples of the Garden of Hisberna, 63 VII. The Gifted Skin of the Pig, 67 VIII. The Blazing Spear of the King of Persia, 71 IX. The Chariot and Steeds of the King of Sigar, 74[xviii] X. The Seven Pigs of the King of the Golden Pillars, 78 XI. The Hound-Whelp of the King of Iroda, 81 XII. Return of the Sons of Turenn, with part of the Eric-Fine, 84 XIII. The Cooking-Spit of the Women of Fincara, 87 XIV. The Three Shouts on Midkena's Hill, 89 XV. Return and Death of the Sons of Turenn, 91 The Overflowing of Lough Neagh, and the Story of Liban the Mermaid. 97 Connla of the Golden Hair and the Fairy Maiden. 106 The Voyage of Maildun. I. Maildun's Childhood and Youth. He begins his Voyage in Quest of the Plunderers who slew his Father,112 II. The First Island. Tidings of the Plunderers, 117 III. The Island of the Monstrous Ants, 119 IV. The Terraced Isle of Birds, 120 V. A Monster, 121 VI. The Demon Horse-Race, 122 VII. The Palace of Solitude, 124 VIII. The Island of the Wonderful Apple Tree, 125 IX. The Island of Bloodthirsty Quadrupeds, 126 X. An Extraordinary Monster, 127 XI. The Isle of Red-Hot Animals, 129 5 XII. The Palace of the Little Cat, 131 XIII. An Island that dyed Black and White, 133 XIV. The Island of the Burning River, 135 XV. The Miller of Hell, 136 XVI. The Isle of Weeping, 137 XVII. The Isle of the Four Precious Walls, 139 XVIII. The Palace of the Crystal Bridge, 139 XIX. The Isle of Speaking Birds, 143 XX. The Aged Hermit and the Human Souls, 143 XXI. The Island of the Big Blacksmiths, 145 XXII. The Crystal Sea, 147 XXIII. A Lovely Country beneath the Waves, 147[xix] XXIV. An Island guarded by a Wall of Water, 148 XXV. A Water-Arch in the Air, 149 XXVI. The Silver Pillar of the Sea, 150 XXVII. An Island standing on One Pillar, 151 XXVIII. The Island Queen detains them with her Magic Thread-Clew, 152 XXIX. The Isle of Intoxicating Wine-Fruits, 156 XXX. The Isle of the Mystic Lake, 157 XXXI. The Isle of Laughing, 163 XXXII. The Isle of the Blest, 164 XXXIII. The Hermit of the Sea-Rock, 164 XXXIV. Signs of Home, 174 XXXV. Maildun meets his Enemy, and arrives Home, 175 The Fairy Palace of the Quicken Trees. I. Colga, King of Lochlann, invades Erin, and is slain, 177 II. Midac, the Son of Colga, meditates Revenge, 181 III. Finn is entrapped by Midac, and held by Enchantment in the Palace of the Quicken Trees, 189 IV. Innsa, Finn's Foster Son, defends the Ford leading to the Palace of the Quicken Trees, 196 V. Ficna, the Son of Finn, defends the Ford, 203 VI. Dermat O'Dyna slays the Three Kings of the Island of the Torrent, breaks the Spell with their Blood, and frees Finn, 213 VII. The Fight at the Ford with the Foreign Army, 219 The Pursuit of the Gilla Dacker and his Horse. I. Arrival of the Gilla Dacker and his Horse, 223 II. Conan and Fifteen of the Fena are carried off by the Gilla Dacker's Horse, 235 III. Pursuit, 239 IV. Dermat O'Dyna, in Quest of the Gilla Dacker, encounters the Wizard-Champion at the Well, 245 V. Dermat O'Dyna in Tir-fa-tonn, 253 VI. Finn, in Quest of Dermat, fights many Battles, 259 VII. Finn and Dermat meet, 265 VIII. Conan and his Companions found and rescued, 267[xx] The Pursuit of Dermat and Grania. I. Finn, the Son of Cumal, seeks the Princess Grania to Wife, 274 II. Dermat O'Dyna secretly espouses the Princess Grania, 277 III. Flight and Pursuit, 285 IV. The Fastness of the Seven Narrow Doors, 289 V. The Three Sea-Champions and their Three Venomous Hounds on the Track of Dermat and Grania, 296 VI. What Befell the Three Sea-Champions and their Three Venomous Hounds, 305 VII. Sharvan, the Surly Giant, and the Fairy Quicken Tree of Dooros, 313 VIII. The Attack of the Witch-Hag, 330 IX. Peace and Rest at Last, 332 X. The Death of Dermat, 334 The Chase of Slieve Cullinn, 351 The Chase of Slieve Fuad, 362 Oisin in Tirnanoge; or, The Last of the Fena, 385 The Voyage of the Sons of O'Corra, 400 The Fate of the Sons of Usna, 427 6 Notes, 455 List of Proper Names, 471 Footnotes, [1] THE FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF LIR; OR, THE FOUR WHITE SWANS. Silent, O Moyle, be the roar of thy water; Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose; While murmuring mournfully, Lir's lonely daughter Tells to the night-star her tale of woes. Moore. CHAPTER I. BOVE DERG CHOSEN KING OF THE DEDANNANS. After the battle of Tailltenn,[VII.] the Dedannans[1][VIII.] of the five provinces of Erin assembled in one place of meeting, to consider on their state, and to choose a king. For their chiefs said it was better for them to have one king over all, than to be divided, as they were, serving sundry lords and princes. Now of those who expected the sovereignty for themselves, the following chiefs were the noblest, namely:--Bove Derg,[IX.] son of the Dagda; his brother[2] Angus, of Bruga on the Boyne, who, however, had no earnest wish to become king, preferring to remain as he was; Ilbrec of Assaroe; Lir of Shee Finnaha; and Midir the Haughty of Bri-Leth.[1] Then the chief people went into council, all except the five above named; and the decision they came to was to elect Bove Derg, son of the Dagda, king over the whole of the Dedannan race. When the election was made known, none of those who were disappointed took the matter to heart except Lir of Shee Finnaha alone. And when Lir found that the chiefs had chosen Bove Derg, he was greatly offended, and straightway left the assembly in anger, without taking leave of any one, and without showing any mark of respect or obedience to the new king. When the chiefs heard this, they were wroth; and they said they would follow him to Shee Finnaha,[X.] and slay him with spear and sword, and burn his house, because he did not yield obedience to the king they had elected in lawful council. But Bove Derg would not permit them to do so. "This man," he said, "will defend his territory, and many will be slain; and I am none the less your king, although he has not submitted to me." Matters remained so for a long time. But at last a great misfortune happened to Lir, for his wife died after an illness of three days. This weighed heavily[3] on him, and his heart was weary with sorrow after her. Her death, moreover, was a great event at that time, and was much spoken of throughout Erin. When the tidings reached the mansion of Bove Derg, where the chief men of the Dedannans were then assembled, the king said-- "As Lir's wife is now dead, my friendship would be of service to him, if he were willing to accept it. For I have in my house three maidens, the most beautiful and the best instructed in all Erin, namely, Eve, Eva, and Alva, my own foster children, and daughters of Allil of Ara."[XI.] The Dedannans agreed to this, and said that their king had spoken wisely and truly. Messengers were accordingly sent to Lir, and they were told to say to him-- "If thou art willing to submit to the king, he will give thee for a wife one of his three foster children; and thou shalt have his friendship for ever." It was pleasing to Lir to make this alliance; and accordingly he set out next day from Shee Finnaha with a company of fifty chariots; and they never halted or turned aside till they reached the palace of Bove Derg, on the shore of the Great Lake.[XII.] Their arrival gave much joy and happiness to the king and his household; for although Lir did not submit at first to Bove Derg, he was a good man, and was greatly[4] beloved by the king himself and by all his subjects. So Lir and his followers got a kindly welcome; and they were supplied with everything necessary, and were well attended to that night. Next day, the three daughters of Allil of Ara sat on the same couch with the queen their foster mother; and the king said to Lir-- "Take thy choice of the three maidens, and whichever thou choosest, she shall be thy wife." "They are all beautiful," said Lir, "and I cannot tell which of them is best; but I will take the eldest, for she must be the noblest of the three." Then the king said, "Eve is the eldest, and she shall be given to thee if it be thy wish." So Lir chose Eve for his wife, and they were wedded that day. Lir remained a fortnight in the king's palace, and then departed with his wife to his own house, Shee Finnaha, where he celebrated his marriage by a great royal wedding feast. CHAPTER II. 7 THE CHILDREN OF LIR. In course of time, Lir's wife bore him two children at a birth, a daughter and a son, whose names were Finola and Aed. A second time she brought forth twins, two sons, who were named Ficra and Conn:[5] and she died in giving them birth. This was a cause of great anguish to Lir; and he would almost have died of grief, only that his mind was turned from his sorrow by his great love for his four little children. When the news of Eve's death reached the mansion of Bove Derg, the king was in deep grief, and the people of his household raised three great cries of lamentation for her. And when their mourning was ended, the king said-- "We grieve for our foster child, both on her own account, and for the sake of the good man to whom we gave her; for we are thankful for his alliance and his friendship. But our acquaintance shall not be ended, and our alliance shall not be broken; for I will give him her sister to wife, my second foster child, Eva." Messengers were sent to Lir to Shee Finnaha, to tell him of this; and he consented. So after some time he came to the king's house to espouse her, and they were united; and he brought her home with him to his own house. The four children grew up under Eva's care. She nursed them with great tenderness, and her love for them increased every day. They slept near their father; and he would often rise from his own bed at the dawn of morning, and go to their beds, to talk with them and to fondle them. The king, Bove Derg, loved them almost as well as did their father. He went many times every year to Shee Finnaha to see them; and he used to bring them[6] often to his palace, where he kept them as long as he could on each occasion, and he always felt sad when he sent them home. At this time, too, the Dedannans used to celebrate the Feast of Age[2] at the houses of their chiefs by turns; and whenever it happened that the festival was held at Shee Finnaha, these children were the delight and joy of the Dedannans. For nowhere could four lovelier children be found; so that those who saw them were always delighted with their beauty and their gentleness, and could not help loving them with their whole heart. CHAPTER III. THE FOUR CHILDREN OF LIR ARE TURNED INTO FOUR WHITE SWANS BY THEIR STEPMOTHER. Now when Eva saw that the children of Lir received such attention and affection from their father, and from all others that came to his house, she fancied she was neglected on their account; and a poisonous dart of jealousy entered her heart, which turned her love to hatred; and she began to have feelings of bitter enmity for her sister's children. Her jealousy so preyed on her that she feigned illness, and lay in bed for nearly a year, filled with gall and brooding mischief; and at the end of that time she committed a foul and cruel deed of treachery on the children of Lir. [7] One day she ordered her horses to be yoked to her chariot, and she set out for the palace of Bove Derg, bringing the four children with her. Finola did not wish to go, for it was revealed to her darkly in a dream that Eva was bent on some dreadful deed of fratricide;[XIII.] and she knew well that her stepmother intended to kill her and her brothers that day, or in some other way to bring ruin on them. But she was not able to avoid the fate that awaited her. When they had gone some distance from Shee Finnaha on their way to the palace, Eva tried to persuade her attendants to kill the children. "Kill them, and you shall be rewarded with all the worldly wealth you may desire; for their father loves me no longer, and has neglected and forsaken me on account of his great love for these children." But they heard her with horror, and refused, saying, "We will not kill them. Fearful is the deed thou hast contemplated, O Eva; and evil will surely befall thee for having even thought of killing them." Then she took the sword to slay them herself; but her woman's weakness prevented her, and she was not able to strike them. So they set out once more, and fared on till they came to the shore of Lake Darvra,[XIV.] where they alighted, and the horses were unyoked. [8] She led the children to the edge of the lake, and told them to go to bathe; and as soon as they had got into the clear water, she struck them one by one with a druidical[3] fairy wand, and turned them into four beautiful snow-white swans. And she addressed them in these words-- Out to your home, ye swans, on Darvra's wave; With clamorous birds begin your life of gloom: Your friends shall weep your fate, but none can save; For I've pronounced the dreadful words of doom. After this, the four children of Lir turned their faces to their stepmother; and Finola spoke-- "Evil is the deed thou hast done, O Eva; thy friendship to us has been a friendship of treachery; and thou hast ruined us without cause. But the deed will be avenged; for the power of thy witchcraft is not greater than the druidical power of our friends to punish thee; and the doom that awaits thee shall be worse than ours." 8 Our stepmother loved us long ago; Our stepmother now has wrought us woe: With magical wand and fearful words, She changed us to beautiful snow-white birds; And we live on the waters for evermore, By tempests driven from shore to shore. Finola again spoke and said, "Tell us now how long we shall be in the shape of swans, so that we may know when our miseries shall come to an end." "It would be better for you if you had not put that question," said Eva; "but I shall declare the truth to you, as you have asked me. Three hundred[9] years on smooth Lake Darvra; three hundred years on the Sea of Moyle, between Erin and Alban;[XV.] three hundred years at Irros Domnann and Inis Glora[XVI.] on the Western Sea. Until the union of Largnen, the prince from the north, with Decca, the princess from the south; until the Taillkenn[XVII.] shall come to Erin, bringing the light of a pure faith; and until ye hear the voice of the Christian bell. And neither by your own power, nor by mine, nor by the power of your friends, can ye be freed till the time comes." Then Eva repented what she had done; and she said, "Since I cannot afford you any other relief, I will allow you to keep your own Gaelic speech; and ye shall be able to sing sweet, plaintive, fairy music, which shall excel all the music of the world, and which shall lull to sleep all that listen to it. Moreover, ye shall retain your human reason; and ye shall not be in grief on account of being in the shape of swans." And she chanted this lay-- Depart from me, ye graceful swans; The waters are now your home: Your palace shall be the pearly cave, Your couch the crest of the crystal wave, [10] And your mantle the milk-white foam! Depart from me, ye snow-white swans With your music and Gaelic speech: The crystal Darvra, the wintry Moyle, The billowy margin of Glora's isle;-- Three hundred years on each! Victorious Lir, your hapless sire, His lov'd ones in vain shall call; His weary heart is a husk of gore, His home is joyless for evermore, And his anger on me shall fall! Through circling ages of gloom and fear Your anguish no tongue can tell; Till Faith shall shed her heavenly rays, Till ye hear the Taillkenn's anthem of praise, And the voice of the Christian bell! Then ordering her steeds to be yoked to her chariot she departed westwards, leaving the four white swans swimming on the lake. Our father shall watch and weep in vain; He never shall see us return again. Four pretty children, happy at home; Four white swans on the feathery foam; And we live on the waters for evermore, By tempests driven from shore to shore. CHAPTER IV. THE FOUR WHITE SWANS ON LAKE DARVRA. When Eva arrived at the house of Bove Derg, the chiefs bade her welcome; and the king asked her why she had not brought the Children of Lir to him. [11] "Because," she replied, "Lir no longer loves thee; and he does not wish to intrust his children to thee, lest thou shouldst harm them." The king was greatly astonished and troubled at this, and he said, "How can that be? For I love those children better than I love my own." But he thought in his own mind that Eva had played some treachery on them. And he sent messengers with all speed northwards to 9 Shee Finnaha, to inquire for the children, and to ask that they might be sent to him. When the messengers had told their errand, Lir was startled; and he asked, "Have the children not reached the palace with Eva?" They answered, "Eva arrived alone, and she told the king that you refused to let the children come." A sad and sorrowful heart had Lir when he heard this; and he now felt sure that Eva had destroyed his four lovely children. So, early next morning, his chariot was yoked for him, and he set out with his attendants for the king's palace; and they travelled with all speed till they arrived at the shore of Lake Darvra. The children of Lir saw the cavalcade approaching; and Finola spoke these words-- I see a mystic warrior band From yonder brow approach the strand; I see them winding down the vale, Their bending chariots slow advancing; I see their shields and gilded mail, [12] Their spears and helmets brightly glancing. Ah! well I know that proud array; I know too well their thoughts to-day: The Dannan host and royal Lir; Four rosy children they are seeking: Too soon, alas! they find us here, Four snowy swans like children speaking! Come, brothers dear, approach the coast, To welcome Lir's mysterious host. Oh, woful welcome! woful day, That never brings a bright to-morrow! Unhappy father, doomed for aye To mourn our fate in hopeless sorrow! When Lir came to the shore, he heard the birds speaking, and, wondering greatly, he asked them how it came to pass that they had human voices. "Know, O Lir," said Finola, "that we are thy four children, who have been changed into swans and ruined by the witchcraft of our stepmother, our own mother's sister, Eva, through her baleful jealousy." When Lir and his people heard this, they uttered three long mournful cries of grief and lamentation. After a time, their father asked them, "Is it possible to restore you to your own shapes?" "It is not possible," replied Finola; "no man has the power to release us until Largnen from the north and Decca from the south are united. Three hundred years we shall be on Lake Darvra; three hundred years on the sea-stream of Moyle; three hundred years on the Sea of Glora in the west. And we shall not regain our human shape till the Taillkenn come with his pure faith into Erin, and until we hear the voice of the Christian bell." [13] And again the people raised three great cries of sorrow. "As you have your speech and your reason," said Lir, "come now to land, and ye shall live at home, conversing with me and my people." "We are not permitted to leave the waters of the lake, and we cannot live with our people any more. But the wicked Eva has allowed us to retain our human reason, and our own Gaelic speech; and we have also the power to chant plaintive, fairy music, so sweet that those who listen to us would never desire any other happiness. Remain with us to-night, and we will chant our music for you." Lir and his people remained on the shore of the lake; and the swans sang their slow, fairy music, which was so sweet and sad, that the people, as they listened, fell into a calm, gentle sleep. At the glimmer of dawn next morning, Lir arose, and he bade farewell to his children for a while, to seek out Eva. The time has come for me to part:-- No more, alas! my children dear, Your rosy smiles shall glad my heart, Or light the gloomy home of Lir. Dark was the day when first I brought This Eva in my home to dwell! Hard was the woman's heart that wrought This cruel and malignant spell! I lay me down to rest in vain; For, through the livelong, sleepless night, My little lov'd ones, pictured plain, [14] 10 Stand ever there before my sight. Finola, once my pride and joy; Dark Aed, adventurous and bold; Bright Ficra, gentle, playful boy; And little Conn, with curls of gold;-- Struck down on Darvra's reedy shore, By wicked Eva's magic power: Oh, children, children, never more My heart shall know one peaceful hour! Lir then departed, and travelled south-west till he arrived at the king's palace, where he was welcomed; and Bove Derg began to reproach him, in presence of Eva, for not bringing the children. "Alas!" said Lir; "it was not by me that the children were prevented from coming. But Eva, your own foster child, the sister of their mother, has played treachery on them; and has changed them by her sorcery into four white swans on Lake Darvra." The king was confounded and grieved at this news; and when he looked at Eva, he knew by her countenance that what Lir had told him was true; and he began to upbraid her in a fierce and angry voice. "The wicked deed thou hast committed," said he, "will be worse for thee than for the children of Lir; for their suffering shall come to an end, and they shall be happy at last." Again he spoke to her more fiercely than before; and he asked her what shape of all others, on the earth, or above the earth, or beneath the earth, she most abhorred, and into which she most dreaded to be transformed. [15] And she, being forced to answer truly, said, "A demon of the air."[XVIII.] "That is the form you shall take," said Bove Derg; and as he spoke he struck her with a druidical magic wand, and turned her into a demon of the air. She opened her wings, and flew with a scream upwards and away through the clouds; and she is still a demon of the air, and she shall be a demon of the air till the end of time. Then Bove Derg and the Dedannans assembled on the shore of the lake, and encamped there; for they wished to remain with the birds, and to listen to their music. The Milesian people[XIX.] came and formed an encampment there in like manner; for historians say that no music that was ever heard in Erin could be compared with the singing of these swans. And so the swans passed their time. During the day they conversed with the men of Erin, both Dedannans and Milesians, and dis-coursed lovingly with their friends and fellow nurselings; and at night they chanted their slow, sweet, fairy music, the most delightful that was ever heard by men; so that all who listened to it, even those who were in grief, or sickness, or pain, forgot their sorrows and their sufferings, and fell into a gentle, sweet sleep, from which they awoke bright and happy. So they continued, the Dedannans and the Milesians,[16] in their encampments, and the swans on the lake, for three hundred years. [XX.] And at the end of that time, Finola said to her brothers-- "Do you know, my dear brothers, that we have come to the end of our time here; and that we have only this one night to spend on Lake Darvra?" When the three sons of Lir heard this, they were in great distress and sorrow; for they were almost as happy on Lake Darvra, surrounded by their friends, and conversing with them day by day, as if they had been in their father's house in their own natural shapes; whereas they should now live on the gloomy and tempestuous Sea of Moyle, far away from all human society. Early next morning, they came to the margin of the lake, to speak to their Father and their friends for the last time, and to bid them farewell; and Finola chanted this lay-- I. Farewell, farewell, our father dear! The last sad hour has come: Farewell, Bove Derg! farewell to all, Till the dreadful day of doom![XXI.] We go from friends and scenes beloved, To a home of grief and pain; And that day of woe Shall come and go, [17] Before we meet again! II. We live for ages on stormy Moyle, In loneliness and fear; The kindly words of loving friends We never more shall hear. Four joyous children long ago; Four snow-white swans to-day; 11 And on Moyle's wild sea Our robe shall be The cold and briny spray. III. Far down on the misty stream of time, When three hundred years are o'er, Three hundred more in storm and cold, By Glora's desolate shore; Till Decca fair is Largnen's spouse; Till north and south unite; Till the hymns are sung, And the bells are rung, At the dawn of the pure faith's light. IV. Arise, my brothers, from Darvra's wave, On the wings of the southern wind; We leave our father and friends to-day In measureless grief behind. Ah! sad the parting, and sad our flight To Moyle's tempestuous main; For the day of woe Shall come and go, Before we meet again! The four swans then spread their wings, and rose from the surface of the water in sight of all their friends, till they reached a great height in the air, then resting, and looking downwards for a moment,[18] they flew straight to the north, till they alighted on the Sea of Moyle between Erin and Alban. The men of Erin were grieved at their departure, and they made a law, and proclaimed it throughout the land, that no one should kill a swan in Erin from that time forth. CHAPTER V. THE FOUR WHITE SWANS ON THE SEA OF MOYLE. As to the children of Lir, miserable was their abode and evil their plight on the Sea of Moyle. Their hearts were wrung with sorrow for their father and their friends; and when they looked towards the steep, rocky, far-stretching coasts, and saw the great, dark wild sea around them, they were overwhelmed with fear and despair. They began also to suffer from cold and hunger, so that all the hardships they had endured on Lake Darvra appeared as nothing compared with their suffering on the sea-current of Moyle. And so they lived, till one night a great tempest fell upon the sea. Finola, when she saw the sky filled with black, threatening clouds, thus addressed her brothers-- "Beloved brothers, we have made a bad preparation for this night; for it is certain that the coming[19] storm will separate us; and now let us appoint a place of meeting, or it may happen that we shall never see each other again." And they answered, "Dear sister, you speak truly and wisely; and let us fix on Carricknarone, for that is a rock that we are all very well acquainted with." And they appointed Carricknarone as their place of meeting. Midnight came, and with it came the beginning of the storm. A wild, rough wind swept over the dark sea, the lightnings flashed, and the great waves rose, and increased their violence and their thunder. The swans were soon scattered over the waters, so that not one of them knew in what direction the others had been driven. During all that night they were tossed about by the roaring winds and waves, and it was with much difficulty they preserved their lives. Towards morning the storm abated, and the sea became again calm and smooth; and Finola swam to Carricknarone. But she found none of her brothers there, neither could she see any trace of them when she looked all round from the summit of the rock over the wide face of the sea. Then she became terrified, for she thought she should never see them again; and she began to lament them plaintively in these words-- The heart-breaking anguish and woe of this life I am able no longer to bear: My wings are benumbed with this pitiless frost; My three little brothers are scattered and lost; [20] And I am left here to despair. 12 My three little brothers I never shall see Till the dead shall arise from the tomb: How I sheltered them oft with my wings and my breast, And I soothed their sorrows and lulled them to rest, As the night fell around us in gloom! Ah, where are my brothers, and why have I lived, This last worst affliction to know? What now is there left but a life of despair?-- For alas! I am able no longer to bear This heart-breaking anguish and woe.[XXII.] Soon after this she looked again over the sea, and she saw Conn coming towards the rock, with his head drooping, and his feathers all drenched with the salt spray; and she welcomed him with joyful heart. Not long after, Ficra appeared, but he was so faint with wet and cold and hardship, that he was scarce able to reach the place where Finola and Conn were standing; and when they spoke to him he could not speak one word in return. So Finola placed the two under her wings, and she said-- "If Aed were here now, all would be happy with us." In a little time they saw Aed coming towards them, with head erect and feathers all dry and radiant and Finola gave him a joyful welcome. She then placed him under the feathers of her breast, while Conn and Ficra remained under her wings; and she said to them-- "My dear brothers, though ye may think this[21] night very bad, we shall have many like it from this time forth." So they continued for a long time on the Sea of Moyle, suffering hardships of every kind, till one winter night came upon them, of great wind and of snow and frost so severe, that nothing they ever before suffered could be compared to the misery of that night. And Finola uttered these words-- Our life is a life of woe; No shelter or rest we find: How bitterly drives the snow; How cold is this wintry wind! From the icy spray of the sea, From the wind of the bleak north east, I shelter my brothers three, Under my wings and breast. Our stepmother sent us here, And misery well we know:-- In cold and hunger and fear; Our life is a life of woe! Another year passed away on the Sea of Moyle; and one night in January, a dreadful frost came down on the earth and sea, so that the waters were frozen into a solid floor of ice all round them. The swans remained on Carricknarone all night, and their feet and their wings were frozen to the icy surface, so that they had to strive hard to move from their places in the morning; and they left the skin of their feet, the quills of their wings, and the feathers of their breasts clinging to the rock. "Sad is our condition this night, my beloved[22] brothers," said Finola, "for we are forbidden to leave the Sea of Moyle; and yet we cannot bear the salt water, for when it enters our wounds, I fear we shall die of pain." And she spoke this lay-- Our fate is mournful here to-day; Our bodies bare and chill, Drenched by the bitter, briny spray, And torn on this rocky hill! Cruel our stepmother's jealous heart That banished us from home; Transformed to swans by magic art, To swim the ocean foam. This bleak and snowy winter day, Our bath is the ocean wide; In thirsty summer's burning ray, Our drink the briny tide. And here 'mid rugged rocks we dwell, In this tempestuous bay; Four children bound by magic spell;-- Our fate is sad to-day! 13 They were, however, forced to swim out on the stream of Moyle, all wounded and torn as they were; for though the brine was sharp and bitter, they were not able to avoid it. They stayed as near the coast as they could, till after a long time the feathers of their breasts and wings grew again, and their wounds were healed. After this they lived on for a great number of years, sometimes visiting the shores of Erin, and sometimes the headlands of Alban. But they always[23] returned to the sea-stream of Moyle, for it was destined to be their home till the end of three hundred years. One day they came to the mouth of the Bann, on the north coast of Erin, and looking inland, they saw a stately troop of horsemen approaching directly from the south-west. They were mounted on white steeds, and clad in bright-coloured garments, and as they wound towards the shore their arms glittered in the sun. "Do ye know yonder cavalcade?" said Finola to her brothers. "We know them not," they replied; "but it is likely they are a party of the Milesians, or perchance a troop of our own people, the Dedannans." They swam towards the shore, to find out who the strangers were; and the cavalcade on their part, when they saw the swans, knew them at once, and moved towards them till they were within speaking distance. Now these were a party of the Dedannans; and the chiefs who commanded them were the two sons of Bove Derg, the Dedannan king, namely, Aed the Keen-witted, and Fergus the Chess-player, with a third part of the Fairy Host.[XXIII.] They had been for a long time searching for the children of Lir along the northern shores of Erin, and now that they had found them, they were joyful; and they and the swans greeted each other with tender expressions of friendship and[24] love. The children of Lir inquired after the Dedannans, and particularly after their father Lir, and Bove Derg, and all the rest of their friends and acquaintances. "They are all well," replied the chiefs; "and they and the Dedannans in general are now gathered together in the house of your father, at Shee Finnaha, celebrating the Feast of Age,[2] pleasantly and agreeably. Their happiness would indeed be complete, only that you are not with them, and that they know not where you have been since you left Lake Darvra." "Miserable has been our life since that day," said Finola; "and no tongue can tell the suffering and sorrow we have endured on the Sea of Moyle." And she chanted these words-- Ah, happy is Lir's bright home to-day, With mead and music and poet's lay: But gloomy and cold his children's home, For ever tossed on the briny foam. Our wreathed feathers are thin and light When the wind blows keen through the wintry night: Yet oft we were robed, long, long ago, In purple mantles and furs of snow. On Moyle's bleak current our food and wine Are sandy sea-weed and bitter brine: Yet oft we feasted in days of old, And hazel-mead drank from cups of gold. Our beds are rocks in the dripping caves; Our lullaby song the roar of the waves: But soft rich couches once we pressed, [25] And harpers lulled us each night to rest. Lonely we swim on the billowy main, Through frost and snow, through storm and rain: Alas for the days when round us moved The chiefs and princes and friends we loved! My little twin brothers beneath my wings Lie close when the north wind bitterly stings, And Aed close nestles before my breast; Thus side by side through the night we rest. Our father's fond kisses, Bove Derg's embrace, The light of Mannanan's[1] godlike face, The love of Angus[1]--all, all are o'er; And we live on the billows for evermore! After this they bade each other farewell, for it was not permitted to the children of Lir to remain away from the stream of Moyle. As soon as they had parted, the Fairy Cavalcade returned to Shee Finnaha, where they related to the Dedannan chiefs all that had passed, and described the condition of the children of Lir. And the chiefs answered-- "It is not in our power to help them; but we are glad that they are living; and we know that in the end the enchantment will be bro-ken, and that they will be freed from their sufferings." 14 As to the children of Lir, they returned to their home on the Sea of Moyle, and there they remained till they had fulfilled their term of years.[26] CHAPTER VI. THE FOUR WHITE SWANS ON THE WESTERN SEA. And when their three hundred years were ended, Finola said to her brothers-- "It is time for us to leave this place, for our period here has come to an end." The hour has come; the hour has come; Three hundred years have passed: We leave this bleak and gloomy home, And we fly to the west at last! We leave for ever the stream of Moyle; On the clear, cold wind we go; Three hundred years round Glora's isle, Where wintry tempests blow! No sheltered home, no place of rest, From the tempest's angry blast: Fly, brothers, fly, to the distant west, For the hour has come at last! So the swans left the Sea of Moyle, and flew westward, till they reached Irros Domnann and the sea round the isle of Glora. There they remained for a long time, suffering much from storm and cold, and in nothing better off than they were on the Sea of Moyle. It chanced that a young man named Ebric, of good family, the owner of a tract of land lying along the shore, observed the birds and heard their singing.[27] He took great delight in listening to their plaintive music, and he walked down to the shore almost every day, to see them and to converse with them; so that he came to love them very much, and they also loved him. This young man told his neighbours about the speaking swans, so that the matter became noised abroad; and it was he who arranged the story, after hearing it from themselves, and related it as it is related here. Again their hardships were renewed, and to describe what they suffered on the great open Western Sea would be only to tell over again the story of their life on the Moyle. But one particular night came, of frost so hard that the whole face of the sea, from Irros Domnann to Achill, was frozen into a thick floor of ice; and the snow was driven by a north-west wind. On that night it seemed to the three brothers that they could not bear their sufferings any longer, and they began to utter loud and pitiful complaints. Finola tried to console them, but she was not able to do so, for they only lamented the more; and then she herself began to lament with the others. After a time, Finola spoke to them and said, "My dear brothers, believe in the great and splendid God of truth, who made the earth with its fruits, and the sea with its wonders; put your trust in Him, and He will send you help and comfort." "We believe in Him," said they. "And I also," said Finola, "believe in God, who is perfect in everything, and who knows all things."[28] And at the destined hour they all believed, and the Lord of heaven sent them help and protection; so that neither cold nor tempest molested them from that time forth, as long as they abode on the Western Sea. So they continued at the point of Irros Domnann, till they had fulfilled their appointed time there. And Finola addressed the sons of Lir-- "My dear brothers, the end of our time here has come; we shall now go to visit our father and our people." And her brothers were glad when they heard this. Then they rose lightly from the face of the sea, and flew eastward with joyful hopes, till they reached Shee Finnaha. But when they alighted they found the place deserted and solitary, its halls all ruined and overgrown with rank grass and forests of nettles; no houses, no fire, no mark of human habitation. Then the four swans drew close together, and they uttered three loud mournful cries of sorrow. And Finola chanted this lay-- What meaneth this sad, this fearful change, That withers my heart with woe? The house of my father all joyless and lone, Its halls and its gardens with weeds overgrown,-- A dreadful and strange overthrow! No conquering heroes, no hounds for the chase, No shields in array on its walls, No bright silver goblets, no gay cavalcades, No youthful assemblies or high-born maids, [29] 15 To brighten its desolate halls! An omen of sadness--the home of our youth All ruined, deserted, and bare. Alas for the chieftain, the gentle and brave; His glories and sorrows are stilled in the grave, And we left to live in despair! From ocean to ocean, from age unto age, We have lived to the fulness of time; Through a life such as men never heard of we've passed, In suffering and sorrow our doom has been cast, By our stepmother's pitiless crime! The children of Lir remained that night in the ruins of the palace--the home of their forefathers, where they themselves had been nursed; and several times during the night they chanted their sad, sweet, fairy music. Early next morning they left Shee Finnaha, and flew west to Inis Glora, where they alighted on a small lake. There they began to sing so sweetly that all the birds of the district gathered in flocks round them on the lake, and on its shore, to listen to them; so that the little lake came to be called the Lake of the Bird-flocks. During the day the birds used to fly to distant points of the coast to feed, now to Iniskea of the lonely crane,[XXIV.] now to Achill, and sometimes southwards to Donn's Sea Rocks,[XXV.] and to many other islands[30] and headlands along the shore of the Western Sea, but they returned to Inis Glora every night. They lived in this manner till holy Patrick came to Erin with the pure faith; and until Saint Kemoc came to Inis Glora. The first night Kemoc came to the island, the children of Lir heard his bell at early matin time, ringing faintly in the distance. And they trembled greatly, and started, and ran wildly about; for the sound of the bell was strange and dreadful to them, and its tones filled them with great fear. The three brothers were more affrighted than Finola, so that she was left quite alone; but after a time they came to her, and she asked them-- "Do you know, my brothers, what sound is this?" And they answered, "We have heard a faint, fearful voice, but we know not what it is." "This is the voice of the Christian bell," said Finola; "and now the end of our suffering is near; for this bell is the signal that we shall soon be freed from our spell, and released from our life of suffering; for God has willed it." And she chanted this lay-- Listen, ye swans, to the voice of the bell, The sweet bell we've dreamed of for many a year; Its tones floating by on the night breezes, tell [31] That the end of our long life of sorrow is near! Listen, ye swans, to the heavenly strain; 'Tis the anchoret tolling his soft matin bell: He has come to release us from sorrow, from pain, From the cold and tempestuous shores where we dwell! Trust in the glorious Lord of the sky; He will free us from Eva's druidical spell: Be thankful and glad, for our freedom is nigh, And listen with joy to the voice of the bell! Then her brothers became calm; and the four swans remained listening to the music of the bell, till the cleric had finished his matins. "Let us sing our music now," said Finola. And they chanted a low, sweet, plaintive strain of fairy music, to praise and thank the great high King of heaven and earth. Kemoc heard the music from where he stood; and he listened with great astonishment. But after a time it was revealed to him that it was the children of Lir who sang that music; and he was glad, for it was to seek them he had come. When morning dawned he came to the shore of the lake, and he saw the four white swans swimming on the water. He spoke to them, and asked them were they the children of Lir. They replied, "We are indeed the children of Lir, who were changed long ago into swans by our wicked stepmother." "I give God thanks that I have found you," said Kemoc; "for it is on your account I have come to this little island in preference to all the other islands of Erin. Come ye now to land, and trust in me; for it is[32] in this place that you are destined to be freed from your enchantment." So they, filled with joy on hearing the words of the cleric, came to the shore, and placed themselves under his care. He brought them to his own house, and, sending for a skilful workman, he caused him to make two bright, slender chains of silver; and he put a chain between Finola and Aed, and the other chain he put between Ficra and Conn. So they lived with him, listening to his instructions day by day, and joining in his devotions. They were the delight and joy of the cleric, and he loved them with his whole heart; and the swans were so happy that the memory of all the misery they had suffered 16 during their long life on the waters caused them neither distress nor sorrow now. CHAPTER VII. THE CHILDREN OF LIR REGAIN THEIR HUMAN SHAPE AND DIE. The king who ruled over Connaught at this time was Largnen, the son of Colman; and his queen was Decca, the daughter of Finnin,[XXVI.] king of Munster,--the same king and queen whom Eva had spoken of in her prophecy long ages before. [33] Now word was brought to queen Decca regarding these wonderful speaking swans, and their whole history was related to her; so that even before she saw them, she could not help loving them, and she was seized with a strong desire to have them herself. So she went to the king, and besought him that he would go to Kemoc and get her the swans. But Largnen said that he did not wish to ask them from Kemoc. Whereupon Decca grew indignant; and she declared that she would not sleep another night in the palace till he had obtained the swans for her. So she left the palace that very hour, and fled southwards towards her father's home. Largnen, when he found she had gone, sent in haste after her, with word that he would try to procure the swans; but the messengers did not overtake her till she had reached Killaloe. However, she returned with them to the palace; and as soon as she had arrived, the king sent to Kemoc to request that he would send the birds to the queen; but Kemoc refused to give them. Largnen became very angry at this; and he set out at once for the cleric's house. As soon as he had come, he asked the cleric whether it was true that he had refused to give the swans to the queen. And when Kemoc answered that it was quite true, the king, being very wroth, went up to where the swans stood, and seizing the two silver chains, one in each hand, he drew the birds from the altar, and turned towards the door of the church, intending to bring[34] them by force to the queen; while Kemoc followed him, much alarmed lest they should be injured. The king had proceeded only a little way, when suddenly the white feathery robes faded and disappeared; and the swans regained their human shape, Finola being transformed into an extremely old woman, and the three sons into three feeble old men, white-haired and bony and wrinkled. When the king saw this, he started with affright, and instantly left the place without speaking one word; while Kemoc reproached and denounced him very bitterly. As to the children of Lir, they turned towards Kemoc; and Finola spoke-- "Come, holy cleric, and baptise us without delay, for our death is near. You will grieve after us, O Kemoc; but in truth you are not more sorrowful at parting from us than we are at parting from you. Make our grave here and bury us together; and as I often sheltered my brothers when we were swans, so let us be placed in the grave--Conn standing near me at my right side, Ficra at my left, and Aed before my face."[XXVII.] Come, holy priest, with book and prayer; Baptise and shrive us here: Haste, cleric, haste, for the hour has come, [35] And death at last is near! Dig our grave--a deep, deep grave, Near the church we loved so well; This little church, where first we heard The voice of the Christian bell. As oft in life my brothers dear Were sooth'd by me to rest-- Ficra and Conn beneath my wings, And Aed before my breast; So place the two on either hand-- Close, like the love that bound me; Place Aed as close before my face, And twine their arms around me. Thus shall we rest for evermore, My brothers dear and I: Haste, cleric, haste, baptise and shrive, For death at last is nigh! Then the children of Lir were baptised, and they died immediately. And when they died, Kemoc looked up; and lo, he saw a vision of four lovely children, with light, silvery wings, and faces all radiant with joy. They gazed on him for a moment; but even as they gazed, they vanished upwards, and he saw them no more. And he was filled with gladness, for he knew they had gone to heaven; but when he looked down on the four bodies lying before him, he became sad and wept. And Kemoc caused a wide grave to be dug near the little church; and the children of Lir were buried together, as Finola had directed--Conn at her right hand, Ficra at her left, and Aed standing before her face. And he raised a grave-mound over them, placing[36] 17 a tombstone on it, with their names graved in Ogam;[XXVIII.] after which he uttered a lament for them, and their funeral rites were performed. So far we have related the sorrowful story of the Fate of the Children of Lir. [37] THE FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF TURENN; OR, THE QUEST FOR THE ERIC-FINE. For the blood that we spilled, For the hero we killed, Toil and woe, toil and woe, till the doom is fulfilled! CHAPTER I. THE LOCHLANNS INVADE ERIN. When the Dedannans[1] held sway in Erin, a prosperous free-born king ruled over them, whose name was Nuada of the Silver Hand.[4] In the time of this king, the Fomorians,[5] from Lochlann,[6] in the north, oppressed the Dedannans, and forced them to pay heavy tributes; namely, a tax on kneading-troughs, a tax on querns, and a tax on baking flags; and besides all this, an ounce of gold for each man of the Dedannans. These tributes had to be paid every year at the Hill of Usna;[XXIX.] and if any one refused or neglected to pay his part, his nose was cut off by the Fomorian tyrants. [38] At this time a great fair-meeting was held by the king of Ireland, Nuada of the Silver Hand, on the Hill of Usna. Not long had the people been assembled, when they saw a stately band of warriors, all mounted on white steeds, coming towards them from the east; and at their head, high in command over all, rode a young champion, tall and comely, with a countenance as bright and glorious as the setting sun. This young warrior was Luga of the Long Arms.[7] He was accompanied by his foster brothers, namely, the sons of Mannanan Mac Lir; and the troop he led was the Fairy Host from the Land of Promise.[8] Now in this manner was he arrayed. He rode the steed of Mannanan Mac Lir,[8] namely, Enbarr of the Flowing Mane: no warrior was ever killed on the back of this steed, for she was as swift as the clear, cold wind of spring, and she travelled with equal ease on land and on sea. He wore Mannanan's coat of mail: no one could be wounded through it, or above it, or below it. He had on his breast Mannanan's breast-plate, which no weapon could pierce. His helmet had two glittering precious stones set in front, and one behind; and whenever he took it off, his face shone like the sun on a dry day in summer. Mannanan's sword, The Answerer, hung at his left side: no one ever recovered from its wound; and those who were opposed to it in the battlefield were so terrified by looking at it, that their strength left them till they became weaker than a woman in deadly sickness. This troop came forward to where the king of[39] Erin sat surrounded by the Dedannans, and both parties exchanged friendly greet- ings. A short time after this they saw another company approaching, quite unlike the first, for they were grim and fierce and surly looking; namely, the tax-gatherers of the Fomorians, to the number of nine nines, who were coming to demand their yearly tribute from the men of Erin. When they reached the place where the king sat, the entire assembly--the king himself among the rest--rose up be-fore them. For the whole Dedannan race stood in great dread of these Fomorian tax-collectors; so much so that no man dared even to chastise his own son without first seeking their consent. Then Luga of the Long Arms spoke to the king and said, "Why have ye stood up before this hateful-looking company, when ye did not stand up for us?" "We durst not do otherwise," replied the king; "for if even an infant of a month old remained seated before them, they would deem it cause enough for killing us all." When Luga heard this he brooded in silence for a little while, and then he said, "Of a truth, I feel a great desire to kill all these men!" Then he mused again, and after a time, said, "I am strongly urged to kill these men!" "That deed would doubtless bring great evil on us," said the king, "for then the Fomorians would be sure to send an army to destroy us all." But Luga, after another pause, started up, exclaiming,[40] "Long have ye been oppressed in this manner!" and so saying, he attacked the Fomorians, dealing red slaughter among them. Neither did he hold his hand till he had slain them all except nine. These he spared, because they ran with all speed and sat nigh the king, that he might protect them from Luga's wrath. Then Luga put his sword back into its scabbard, and said, "I would slay you also, only that I wish you to go and tell your king, and the foreigners in general, what you have seen." These nine men accordingly returned to their own country, and they told their tale to the Fomorian people from beginning to end-- how the strange, noble-faced youth had slain all the tax-collectors except nine, whom he spared that they might bring home the story. When they had ended speaking, the king, Balor[9] of the Mighty Blows and of the Evil Eye, asked the chiefs, "Do ye know who this 18 youth is?" And when they answered, "No," Kethlenda,[9] Balor's queen, said-- "I know well who the youth is: he is the Ildana,[XXX.] Luga of the Long Arms, the son of your daughter and mine; and it has been long foretold that when he should appear in Erin, our sway over the Dedannans should come to an end." Then the chief people of the Fomorians held[41] council; namely, Balor of the Mighty Blows, and his twelve sons, and his queen Kethlenda of the Crooked Teeth; Ebb and Sencab, the grandsons of Neid; Sotal of the Large Heels; Luath the Long-bodied; Luath the Story-teller; Tinna the Mighty, of Triscadal; Loskenn of the Bare Knees; Lobas, the druid; besides the nine prophetic poets and philosophers of the Fomorians. After they had debated the matter for some time, Bres, the son of Balor, arose and said, "I will go to Erin with seven great battalions of the Fomorian army, and I will give battle to the Ildana, and I will bring his head to you to our palace of Berva."[6] The Fomorian chiefs thought well of this proposal, and it was agreed to. So the ships were got ready for Bres; abundant food and drink and war stores were put into them, their seams were calked with pitch, and they were filled with sweet-smelling frankincense. Meantime the two Luaths, that is to say, Luath the Story-teller and Luath of the Long Body, were sent all over Lochlann to summon the army. And when all the fighting men were gathered together, they arrayed themselves in their battle-dresses, prepared their arms, and set out for Erin. Balor went with them to the harbour where they were to embark, and when they were about to go on board, he said to them-- "Give battle to the Ildana, and cut off his head. And after ye have overcome him and his people, put your cables round this island of Erin, which gives us[42] so much trouble, and tie it at the sterns of your ships: then sail home, bringing the island with you, and place it on the north side of Lochlann, whither none of the Dedannans will ever follow it." Then, having hoisted their many-coloured sails and loosed their moorings, they sailed forth from the harbour into the great sea, and never slackened speed or turned aside from their course till they reached the harbour of Eas-Dara.[XXXI.] And as soon as they landed, they sent forth an army through West Connaught, which wasted and spoiled the whole province. CHAPTER II. THE MURDER OF KIAN. Now the king of Connaught at that time was Bove Derg, the son of the Dagda,[XXXII.] a friend to Luga of the Long Arms. It chanced that Luga was then at Tara,[XXXIII.] and news was brought to him that the Fomorians had landed at Eas-Dara, and were spoiling and wasting the province. He immediately got ready his steed, Enbarr of the Flowing Mane; and early in the morning, when the point of night met the day, he went to the king and told him that the foreigners had landed, and[43] that they had wasted and plundered the province of Bove Derg. "I shall give them battle," said Luga; "and I wish to get from thee some help of men and arms." "I will give no help," said the king; "for I do not wish to avenge a deed that has not been done against myself." When Luga heard this reply he was wroth, and departing straightway from Tara, he rode westward. He had not travelled long when he saw at a distance three warriors, fully armed, riding towards him. Now these were three brothers, the sons of Canta; namely, Kian and Cu and Kethen; and Kian was Luga's father. And they saluted each other, and conversed together for a time. "Why art thou abroad so early?" said they. "Cause enough have I," replied Luga; "for the Fomorians have landed in Erin, and have wasted the province of Bove Derg, the son of the Dagda. It is well indeed that I have met you, for I am about to give them battle, and I wish now to know what aid I shall get from you." "We will go into the battle with you," said they; "and each of us will ward off from you a hundred of the Fomorian warriors." "That, indeed, is good help," said Luga; "but, for the present, I wish you to go to the several places throughout Erin where the Fairy Host[XXXIV.] are abiding, and summon them all to me." [44] The three brothers accordingly separated, Cu and Kethen going south, while Luga's father, Kian, turned his face northwards, and rode on till he came to Moy Murthemna.[XXXV.] He had not been long travelling over the plain when he saw three warriors, clad in armour and fully armed, coming towards him. These were three Dedannan chiefs, the sons of Turenn, and their names were Brian, Ur, and Urcar. Now these three and the three sons of Canta were at deadly feud with each other, on account of an old quarrel, and whenever they met there was sure to be a fight for life or death. As soon as Kian saw these three, he said, "If my two brothers were now with me, we should have a brave fight; but as they are not, and as I am only one against three, it is better to avoid the combat." So saying, he looked round, and seeing near him a herd of swine he struck himself with a golden druidical[3] wand, and changed himself into a pig; and he quickly joined the herd. No sooner had he done so than Brian, the eldest of the sons of Turenn, said to his brothers, "Tell me, my brothers, do you know what has become of the warrior that we saw just now approaching us on the plain?" "We saw him," said they, "but we know not whither he has gone." "You deserve great blame," said he, "that you are not more watchful while traversing the country during this time of war. Now I know what has happened[45] to this warrior; he has changed himself, by a druidical spell, into a pig; and he is now among yonder herd. And whoever he may be, of this be sure--he is no friend of ours." 19 "This is an unlucky matter," said they; "for as these pigs belong to one of the Dedannans, it would be wrong for us to kill them; and even if we should do so, the enchanted pig might escape after all." "But," answered Brian, "I think I can manage to distinguish any druidical beast from a natural one; and if you had attended well to your learning, you would be able to do the same." Saying this, he struck his brothers one after the other with his golden druidical wand, and turned them into two fleet, slender, sharp- nosed hounds. The moment he had done so they put their noses to the earth, and, yelping eagerly, set off towards the herd on the trail of their enemy. When they had come near, the druidical pig fell out from the herd, and made towards a thick grove that grew hard by; but Brian was there before him, and drove his spear through his chest. The pig screamed and said, "You have done an ill deed to cast your spear at me, for you know well who I am." "Your voice, methinks, is the voice of a man," said Brian; "but I know not who you are." And the pig answered, "I am Kian, the son of Canta; and now I ask you to give me quarter." Ur and Urcar, who had regained their shape and[46] come up, said, "We will give you quarter indeed, and we are sorry for what has happened to you." But Brian, on the other hand, said, "I swear by the gods of the air, that if your life returned to you seven times, I would take it from you seven times." "Then," said Kian, "as you will not grant me quarter, allow me first to return to my own shape." "That we will grant you," said Brian; "for I often feel it easier to kill a man than to kill a pig." Kian accordingly took his own shape; and then he said, "You indeed, ye sons of Turenn, are now about to slay me; but even so, I have outwitted you. For if you had slain me in the shape of a pig, you would have to pay only the eric-fine[10] for a pig; whereas, now that I am in my own shape, you shall pay the full fine for a man. And there never yet was killed, and there never shall be killed, a man for whom a greater fine shall be paid, than you will have to pay for me. The weapons with which I am slain shall tell the deed to my son; and he will exact the fine from you." "You shall not be slain with the weapons of a warrior," said Brian; and so saying, he and his brothers laid aside their arms, and smote him fiercely and rudely with the round stones of the earth, till they had reduced his body to a disfigured mass; and in this manner they slew him. They then buried him a man's height in the earth; but the earth, being angry at the fratricide,[XXXVI.] refused[47] to receive the body, and cast it up on the surface. They buried him a second time, and again the body was thrown up from beneath the clay. Six times the sons of Turenn buried the body of Kian a man's height in the earth, and six times did the earth cast it up, refusing to receive it. But when they had buried him the seventh time, the earth refused no longer, and the body remained in the grave. Then the sons of Turenn prepared to go forward after Luga of the Long Arms to the battle. But as they were leaving the grave, they thought they heard a faint, muffled voice coming up from the ground beneath their feet-- The blood you have spilled, The hero you've killed, Shall follow your steps till your doom be fulfilled! CHAPTER III. DEFEAT AND FLIGHT OF THE LOCHLANNS. Now as to Luga. After parting from his father, he journeyed westward till he reached Ath-Luan,[XXXVII.] thence[48] to Ros-Coman, and over Moy-Lurg to the Curlieu Hills, and to the mountain of Kesh-Corran, till he reached the "Great Plain of the Assembly," where the foreigners were encamped, with the spoils of Connaught around them. As he drew nigh to the Fomorian encampment, Bres, the son of Balor, arose and said-- "A wonderful thing has come to pass this day; for the sun, it seems to me, has risen in the west." "It would be better that it were so," said the druids,[3] "than that matters should be as they are." "What else can it be, then?" asked Bres. "The light you see," replied the druids, "is the brightness of the face, and the flashing of the weapons of Luga of the Long Arms, our deadly enemy, he who slew our tax-gatherers, and who now approaches." Then Luga came up peacefully and saluted them. "How does it come to pass that you salute us," said they, "since you are, as we know well, our enemy?" "I have good cause for saluting you," answered Luga; "for only one half of my blood is Dedannan; the other half comes from you; for I am the son of the daughter of Balor of the Mighty Blows, your king.[7] And now I come in peace, to ask you to give back to the men of Connaught all the milch cows you have taken from them." "May ill luck follow thee," said one of the Fomorian leaders, in a voice loud and wrathful, "until thou get one of them, either a milch cow or a dry cow!" And the others spoke in a like strain. [49] Then Luga put a druidical spell upon the plundered cattle; and he sent all the milch cows home, each to the door of her owner's house, throughout all that part of Connaught that had been plundered. But the dry cows he left, so that the Fomorians might be 20 cumbered, and that they might not leave their encampment till the Fairy Host should arrive to give them battle. Luga tarried three days and three nights near them, and at the end of that time the Fairy Host arrived, and placed themselves under his command. They encamped near the Fomorians, and in a little time Bove Derg, son of the Dagda, joined them with twenty-nine hundred men. Then they made ready for the fight. The Ildana put on Mannanan's coat of mail and his breast-plate; he took also his helmet, which was called Cannbarr, and it glittered in the sun with dazzling brightness; he slung his broad, dark-blue shield from his shoulder at one side; his long, keen-edged sword hung at his thigh; and lastly, he took his two long, heavy-handled spears, which had been tempered in the poisonous blood of adders. The other kings and chiefs of the men of Erin arrayed their men in battle ranks; hedges of glitter- ing spears rose high above their heads; and their shields, placed edge to edge, formed a firm fence around them. Then at the signal they attacked the Fomorians, and the Fomorians, in no degree dismayed, answered their onset. At first a cloud of whizzing javelins flew[50] from rank to rank across the open space, and as the warriors rushed together in closer conflict, their spears were shivered in their hands. Then they drew their gold-hilted swords, and fought foot to foot and shield to shield, so that a forest of bright flashes rose high above their helmets, from the clashing of their keen-tempered weapons. In the midst of the fight, Luga looked round, and seeing at some distance, Bres, surrounded by his Fomorian warriors, dealing havoc and death among the Dedannans, he rushed through the press of battle, and attacked first Bres's guards so fiercely that in a few moments twenty of them fell beneath his blows. Then he struck at Bres himself, who, unable to withstand his furious onset, cried aloud-- "Why should we be enemies, since thou art of my kin? Let there be peace between us, for nothing can withstand thy blows. Let there be peace, and I will undertake to bring my Fomorians to assist thee at Moytura,[11] and I will promise never again to come to fight against thee." And Bres swore by the sun and the moon, by the sea and land, and by all the elements,[XXXVIII.] to fulfil his engagement; and on these conditions Luga granted him his life. Then the Fomorians, seeing their chief overcome, dropped their arms, and sued for quarter. The Fomorian[51] druids and men of learning next came to Luga to ask him to spare their lives; and Luga answered them-- "So far am I from wishing to slay you, that in truth, if you had taken the whole Fomorian race under your protection, I would have spared them." And after this, Bres, the son of Balor, returned to his own country with his druids, and with those of his army who had escaped from the battle. CHAPTER IV. THE ERIC-FINE ON THE SONS OF TURENN FOR THE SLAYING OF KIAN. Towards the close of the day, when the battle was ended, Luga espied two of his near friends; and he asked them if they had seen his father, Kian, in the fight. And when they answered, "No," Luga said-- "My father is not alive; for if he lived he would surely have come to help me in the battle. And now I swear that neither food nor drink will I take till I have found out who has slain him, and the manner of his death." Then Luga set out with a small chosen band of the Fairy Host, and he halted not till he reached the place where he had parted from his father. And from that he travelled on to the plain of Murthemna, where[52] Kian had been forced to take the shape of a pig to avoid the sons of Turenn, and where they had slain him. When he had come near to the very spot, he walked some little way before his companions, and the stones of the earth spoke beneath his feet, and said-- "Here thy father lies, O Luga. Grievous was Kian's strait when he was forced to take the shape of a pig on seeing the three sons of Turenn; and here they slew him in his own shape!" The blood that they spilled, The hero they killed, Shall darken their lives till their doom be fulfilled! Luga stood for a while silent, pondering on these words. But as his companions came up, he told them what had happened; and hav-ing pointed out the spot from which the voice came, he caused the ground to be dug up. There they found the body, and raised it to the surface; and when they had examined it, they saw that it was covered all over with gory wounds and bruises. Then Luga spoke after a long silence, "A cruel and merciless death has my beloved father suffered at the hands of the sons of Turenn!" He kissed his father's face three times, and again spoke, grieving, "Ill fare the day on which my father was slain! Woful is this deed to me, for my eyes see not, my ears hear not, and my heart's pulse has ceased to beat, for grief. Why, O ye gods whom I worship,[53] why was I not present when this deed was done? Alas! an evil thing has happened, for the Dedannans have slain their brother Dedannan. Ill shall they fare of this fratricide, for its consequences shall follow them, and long shall the crime of brother against brother continue to be committed in Erin!" And he spoke this speech-- A dreadful doom my father found 21 On that ill-omened even-tide; And here I mourn beside the mound, Where, whelmed by numbers, Kian died,-- This lonely mound of evil fame, That long shall bear the hero's name! Alas! an evil deed is done, And long shall Erin rue the day: There shall be strife 'twixt sire and son, And brothers shall their brothers slay; Vengeance shall smite the murderers too, And vengeance all their race pursue! The light has faded from mine eyes; My youthful strength and power have fled Weary my heart with ceaseless sighs; Ambition, hope, and joy are dead; And all the world is draped in gloom-- The shadow of my father's tomb! Then they placed the hero again in the grave, and they raised a tomb over him with his name graved in Ogam;[XXXIX.] after which his lamentation lays were sung, and his funeral games were performed. When these rites were ended, Luga said to his people, "Go ye now to Tara, where the king of Erin[54] sits on his throne with the Dedannans around him; but do not make these things known till I myself have told them." So Luga's people went straightway to Tara, as he had bade them; but of the murder of Kian they said naught. Luga himself arrived some time after, and was received with great honour, being put to sit high over the others, at the king's side; for the fame of his mighty deeds at the battle of the Assembly Plain had been noised over the whole country, and had come to the ears of the king. After he was seated, he looked round the hall, and saw the sons of Turenn in the assembly. Now these three sons of Turenn exceeded all the champions in Tara, in comeliness of person, in swiftness of foot, and in feats of arms; and, next to Luga himself, they were the best and bravest in the battles against the Fomorians; wherefore they were honoured by the king beyond most others. Luga asked the king that the chain of silence[XL.] should be shaken; and when it was shaken, and when all were listening in silence, he stood up and spoke-- "I perceive, ye nobles of the Dedannan race, that you have given me your attention, and now I have a question to put to each man here present: What vengeance would you take of the man who should knowingly and of design kill your father?" [55] They were all struck with amazement on hearing this, and the king of Erin said-- "What does this mean? For that your father has not been killed, this we all know well!" "My father has indeed been killed," answered Luga; "and I see now here in this hall those who slew him. And furthermore, I know the manner in which they put him to death, even as they know it themselves." The sons of Turenn, hearing all this, said nothing; but the king spoke aloud and said-- "If any man should wilfully slay my father, it is not in one hour or in one day I would have him put to death; but I would lop off one of his members each day, till I saw him die in torment under my hands!" All the nobles said the same, and the sons of Turenn in like manner. "The persons who slew my father are here present, and are joining with the rest in this judgment," said Luga; "and as the Dedannans are all now here to witness, I claim that the three who have done this evil deed shall pay me a fitting eric-fine for my father. Should they refuse, I shall not indeed transgress the king's law nor violate his protection; but of a certainty they shall not leave this hall of Micorta[XLI.] till the matter is settled." And the king of Erin said, "If I had killed your[56] father, I should be well content if you were willing to accept an eric-fine from me." Now the sons of Turenn spoke among themselves; and Ur and Urcar said, "It is of us Luga speaks this speech. He has doubtless found out that we slew his father; and it is better that we now acknowledge the deed, for it will avail us naught to hide it." Brian, however, at first set his face against this, saying that he feared Luga only wanted an acknowledgment from them in presence of the other Dedannans, and that afterwards he might not accept a fine. But the other two were earnest in pressing him, so that he consented, and then he spoke to Luga-- "It is of us thou speakest all these things, Luga; for it has been said that we three have been at enmity with the three sons of Canta. Now, as to the slaying of thy father Kian, let that matter rest; but we are willing to pay an eric-fine for him, even as if we had killed him." "I shall accept an eric-fine from you," said Luga, "though ye indeed fear I shall not. I shall now name before this assembly the fine I ask, and if you think it too much, I shall take off a part of it. "The first part of my eric-fine is three apples; the second part is the skin of a pig; the third is a spear; the fourth, two steeds and a chariot; the fifth, seven pigs; the sixth, a hound-whelp; the seventh, a cooking-spit; and the eighth, three shouts on a hill. That is my 22 eric," said Luga; "and if ye think it too much, say so now, that I may remit a part; but if not, then it will be well that ye set about pay-ing it." [57] "So far," said Brian, "we do not deem it too great. It seems, indeed, so small that we fear there is some hidden snare in what you ask, which may work us mischief." "I do not deem my eric too small," said Luga; "and now I engage here, before the assembled Dedannans, that I will ask no more, and that I will seek no further vengeance for my father's death. But, as I have made myself answerable to them for the faithful fulfilment of my promise, I demand the same guarantee from you, that you also be faithful to me." "Alas that you should doubt our plighted word!" said the sons of Turenn. "Are we not ourselves sufficient guarantee for the payment of an eric-fine greater even than this?" "I do not deem your word sufficient guarantee," answered Luga; "for often have we known great warriors like you to promise a fine before all the people, and afterwards to go back of their promise." And the sons of Turenn consented, though unwillingly, for they grieved that their word should be doubted. So they bound themselves on either side--Luga not to increase his claims; and the sons of Turenn, on their part, to pay him the full fine. And the king of Erin and Bove Derg, son of the Dagda, and the nobles of the Dedannans in general, were witnesses and sureties of this bond. Then Luga stood up and said, "It is now time that I give you a full knowledge of this eric-fine. "The three apples I ask are the apples of the[58] Garden of Hisberna,[XLII.] in the east of the world, and none others will I have. There are no apples in the rest of the world like them, for their beauty and for the secret virtues they possess. Their colour is the colour of burnished gold; they have the taste of honey; and if a wounded warrior or a man in deadly sickness eat of them, he is cured immediately. And they are never lessened by being eaten, being as large and perfect at the end as at the beginning. Moreover any champion that possesses one of them may perform with it whatsoever feat he pleases, by casting it from his hand, and the apple will return to him of itself. And though you are three brave warriors, ye sons of Turenn, methinks you will not find it easy to bring away these apples; for it has been long foretold that three young champions from the Island of the West would come to take them by force, so that the king has set guards to watch for your coming. "The pig's skin I seek from you belongs to Tuis, the king of Greece. When the pig was alive, every stream of water through which she walked was turned into wine for nine days, and all sick and wounded people that touched her skin were at once cured, if only the breath of life remained. Now the king's druids told him that the virtue lay, not in the pig herself, but in her skin; so the king had her killed and skinned, and he has her skin now. This, too, ye valiant champions, is a part of my eric-fine which you will find it hard to get, either by force or by friendship. [59] "The spear I demand from you is the venomed spear of Pezar, king of Persia. Its name is Slaughterer. In time of peace, its blazing, fiery head is always kept in a great caldron of water, to prevent it from burning down the king's palace; and in time of war, the champion who bears it to the battlefield can perform any deed he pleases with it. And it will be no easy matter to get this spear from the king of Persia. "The two steeds and the chariot belong to Dobar, king of Sigar.[XLIII.] The chariot exceeds all the chariots in the world for beauty of shape and goodliness of workmanship. The two noble steeds have no equal for strength and fleetness, and they travel with as much ease on sea as on land. "The seven pigs I demand are the pigs of Asal, the king of the Golden Pillars. Whoever eats a part of them shall not suffer from ill health or disease; and even though they should be killed and eaten to-day, they will be alive and well to-morrow. "The hound-whelp belongs to the king of Iroda,[XLIV.] and his name is Failinis. He shines as brightly as the sun in a summer sky; and every wild beast of the forest that sees him falls down to the earth powerless before him. "The cooking-spit belongs to the warlike women of the island of Fincara. They are thrice fifty in number, and woe to the champion who approaches[60] their house; for each of them is a match for three good warriors in single combat; and they never yet gave a cooking-spit to any one without being overcome in battle. "The hill on which I require you to give three shouts is the Hill of Midkena, in the north of Lochlann.[6] Midkena and his sons are always guarding this hill, for they are under gesa[12] not to allow any one to shout on it. Moreover, it was they that instructed my father in championship and feats of arms, and they loved him very much; so that even if I should forgive you his death they would not. And, though you should be able to procure all the rest of the eric-fine, you will not, I think, succeed in this, for they will be sure to avenge on you my father's death. "And this, ye sons of Turenn, is the eric-fine I demand from you!" CHAPTER V. THE SONS OF TURENN OBTAIN MANNANAN'S CANOE, "THE WAVE-SWEEPER." The sons of Turenn were so astounded on hearing this eric-fine that they spoke not one word; but rising up, they left the meeting, and repaired to the house of their father Turenn. [61] He heard their story to the end, and then said, "Your tidings are bad, my sons, and I fear me you are doomed to meet your death in 23 seeking what the Ildana asks. But the doom is a just one, for it was an evil thing to kill Kian. Now as to this eric-fine: it cannot be obtained by any living man without the help of either Luga himself or of Mannanan Mac Lir;[8] but if Luga wishes to aid you, ye shall be able to get it. Go ye now, therefore, and ask him to lend you Mannanan's steed, Enbarr of the Flowing Mane. If he wishes you to get the full eric-fine, he will lend you the steed; otherwise he will refuse, saying that she does not belong to him, and that he cannot lend what he himself has got on loan. Then, if ye obtain not the steed, ask him for the loan of Mannanan's canoe, the Wave-sweeper, which would be better for you than the steed; and he will lend you that, for he is forbidden to refuse a second request." So the sons of Turenn returned to Luga, and having saluted him, they said-- "It is not in the power of any man to obtain this eric-fine without thy own aid, O Luga; we ask thee, therefore, to lend us Mannanan's steed, Enbarr of the Flowing Mane." "That steed is not my own," said Luga; "and I cannot lend that which I have myself obtained on loan." "If that be so," said Brian, "then I pray thee lend us Mannanan's canoe, the Wave-sweeper." "I shall lend you that," replied Luga; "it lies at[62] Bruga of the Boyne;[XLV.] and ye have my consent to take it." So they came again to their father, and this time Ethnea, their sister, was with him; and they told them that Luga had given them the canoe. "I have much fear," said Turenn, "that it will avail you little against the dangers of your quest. Nevertheless, Luga desires to obtain that part of the eric that will be useful to him at the battle of Moytura,[11] and so far he will help you. But in seeking that which is of no advantage to him, namely, the cooking-spit, and the three shouts on Midkena's Hill, therein he will give you no aid, and he will be glad if ye perish in your attempts to obtain it." They then set out for Bruga of the Boyne, accompanied by their sister Ethnea, leaving Turenn lamenting after them. The canoe they found lying in the river; and Brian went into it and said-- "It seems to me that only one other person can sit here along with me;" and he began to complain very bitterly of its smallness. He ceased, however, at the bidding of Ethnea, who told him that the canoe would turn out large enough when they came to try it, and that it was under strict command not to let any one grumble at its smallness. And she went on to say-- "Alas, my beloved brothers, it was an evil deed[63] to slay the father of Luga of the Long Arms! and I fear you will suffer much woe and hardship on account of it." Ethnea. The deed was a dark one, a deed full of woe, Your brother Dedannan to slay; And hard and relentless the heart of your foe, The bright-faced Ildana, that forced you to go, This eric of vengeance to pay! The Brothers. Oh, cease, sister Ethnea, cease thy sad wail; Why yield to this terror and gloom? Long, long shall the poets remember the tale, For our courage and valour and swords shall prevail, Or win us a glorious tomb! Ethnea. Then search ye, my brothers, go search land and sea; Go search ye the isles of the East.-- Alas, that the cruel Ildana's decree Has banished my three gentle brothers from me, On this fearful and perilous quest! CHAPTER VI. THE APPLES OF THE GARDEN OF HISBERNA. After this the three brothers entered the canoe, which they now found large enough to hold themselves and their arms, and whatsoever else they wished to bring; for this was one of its secret gifts. They[64] then bade their sister farewell, and, leaving her weeping on the shore, they rowed swiftly till they had got beyond the beautiful shores and bright harbours of Erin, out on the open sea. Then the two younger brothers said, "Now our quest begins: what course shall we take?" Brian answered, "As the apples are the first part of the fine, we shall seek them first." And then he spoke to the canoe, "Thou canoe of Mannanan, thou Sweeper of the waves, we ask thee and we command thee, that thou sail straightway to the Garden of Hisberna!" The canoe was not unmindful of the voice of its master, and obeyed the command without delay, according to its wont. It took the shortest way across the deep sea-chasms, and, gliding over the green-sided waves more swiftly than the clear, cold wind of March, it stayed not in its course till it reached the harbour near the land of Hisberna. Brian now spoke to his brothers, "Be sure that this quest is a perilous one, since we know that the best champions of the country, 24 with the king at their head, are always guarding the apples. And now in what manner, think you, is it best for us to approach the garden?" "It seems to us," answered his brothers, "that we had better go straight and attack these champions, and either bring away the apples, or fall fighting for them. For we cannot escape the dangers that lie before us; and if we are doomed to fall in one of these adventures,[65] it may, perchance, be better for us to die here than to prolong our hardships." But Brian answered, "Not so, my brothers; for it becomes a warrior to be prudent and wary as well as brave. We should now act so that the fame of our skill and valour may live after us, and that future men may not say, 'These sons of Turenn did not deserve to be called brave champions, for they were senseless and rash, and sought their own death by their folly.' In the present case, then, what I counsel is this: Let us take the shape of strong, swift hawks; and as we approach the garden, have ye care of the light, sharp lances of the guards, which they will certainly hurl at us: avoid them actively and cunningly, and when the men have thrown all, let us swoop down and bring away an apple each." They approved this counsel; and Brian, striking his two brothers and himself with a druidical magic wand, all three were changed into three beautiful hawks. Then, flying swiftly to the garden, they began to descend in circles towards the tops of the trees; but the sharp-eyed guards perceived them, and with a great shout they threw showers of venomous darts at them. The hawks, however, mindful of Brian's warning, watched the spears with keen glances, and escaped them every one, until the guards had thrown all their light weapons. Then, swooping suddenly down on the trees, the two younger brothers carried off an apple each, and Brian two, one between his talons and the other in his beak; and the three[66] rose again into the air without wound or hurt of any kind. Then, directing their course westward, they flew over the wide sea with the speed of an arrow. The news spread quickly through the city, how three beautiful hawks had carried off the apples; and the king and his people were in great wrath. Now the king had three daughters, very skilful in magic and cunning in counsel; and they forthwith transformed themselves into three swift-winged, sharp-taloned griffins, and pursued the hawks over the sea. But the hawks, when they saw they were pursued, increased their speed, and flew like the wind, and left their pursuers so far behind that they appeared to the griffins like three specks on the sky. Then the angry griffins let fly from their eyes, and from their open beaks, bright flashes of flame straight forward, which overtook and blinded the hawks, and scorched them, so that they could bear the heat no longer. "Evil is our state now," said Ur and Urcar, "for these sheets of flame are burning us, and we shall perish if we do not get relief." "I will try whether I cannot relieve you," said Brian; and with that he struck his brothers and himself with his golden druidical wand; and all three were instantly turned into swans. The swans dropped down on the sea; and when the griffins saw the hawks no longer straight before them, they gave up the chase. And the sons of Turenn went safely to their canoe, bringing the apples with them.[67] CHAPTER VII. THE GIFTED SKIN OF THE PIG. After resting a little while, they held council as to their next journey; and what they resolved on was to go to Greece, to seek the skin of the pig, and to bring it away, either by consent or by force. So they went into the canoe, and Brian spoke-- "Thou canoe of Mannanan, thou Sweeper of the Waves, we ask thee and we command thee that thou sail with us straightway to Greece!" And the canoe, obeying as before, glided swiftly and smoothly over the waves, till the sons of Turenn landed near the palace of the king of Greece. "In what shape, think you, should we go to this court?" said Brian. "We think it best," answered the others, "to go in our own shapes; that is to say, as three bold champions." "Not so," said Brian. "It seems best to me that we should go in the guise of learned poets from Erin; for poets are held in much honour and respect by the great nobles of Greece." "It is, indeed, hard for us to do that," answered his brothers, "for as to poems, we neither have any, nor do we know how to com-pose them." However, as Brian would have it so, they consented, though unwillingly; and, tying up their hair[68] after the manner of poets, they knocked at the door of the palace. The door-keeper asked who was there. "We are skilful poets from Erin," said Brian, "and we have come to Greece with a poem for the king." The door-keeper went and gave the message. "Let them be brought in," said the king, "for it is to seek a good and bountiful master whom they may serve faithfully that they have come so far from Erin." The sons of Turenn were accordingly led in to the banquet hall, where sat the king surrounded by his nobles; and, bowing low, they saluted him; and he saluted them in return, and welcomed them. They sat at the table among the company, and joined the feast at once, drinking and making merry like the others; and they thought they had never seen a banquet hall so grand, or a household so numerous and mirthful. At the proper time the king's poets arose, according to custom, to recite their poems and their lays for the company. And when they had come to an end, Brian, speaking low, said to his brothers-- "As we have come here as poets, it is meet that we should practise the poetic art like the others; therefore now arise, and recite a poem for the king." 25 "We have no poems," they replied, "and we do not wish to practise any art except the art we have learned and practised from our youth, namely, to fight like brave champions, and to take by valour and force of arms that which we want, if we be stronger than our enemies, or to fall in battle if they be the stronger." [69] "That is not a pleasant way of making poetry," said Brian; and with that he arose and requested attention for his poem. And when they sat listening, he said-- To praise thee, O Tuis, we've come to this land: Like an oak among shrubs, over kings thou dost stand: Thy bounty, great monarch, shall gladden the bard; And the Imnocta-fessa I claim as reward. Two neighbours shall war, with an O to an O; A bard unrequited--how dreadful a foe! Thy bounty shall add to thy wealth and thy fame; And the Imnocta-fessa is all that I claim. "Your poem would doubtless be thought a very good one," said the king, "if we were able to judge of it; but it is unlike all other poems I have ever heard, for I do not in the least understand its sense." "I will unfold its sense," said Brian. To praise thee, O Tuis, we've come to this land: Like an oak among shrubs, over kings thou dost stand: "This means that as the oak excels all the other trees of the forest, so dost thou excel all the other kings of the world for greatness, nobility, and generosity. "'Imnocta-fessa.' Imnocta means 'skin,' and fessa 'a pig.' That is to say; thou hast, O king, the skin of a pig, which I desire to get from thee as a guerdon for my poetry. Two neighbours shall war, with an O to an O; A bard unrequited--how dreadful a foe! "O means 'an ear;' that is to say, thou and I shall[70] be ear to ear fighting with each other for the skin, if thou give it not of thy own free will. "And that, O king, is the sense of my poem." "Thy poem would have been a very good one," said the king, "and I would have given it due meed of praise if my pig's skin had not been mentioned in it. But it is a foolish request of thine, O ferdana,[XLVI.] to ask for that skin; for, even though all the poets and men of science of Erin, and all the nobles of the whole world were to demand it from me, I would refuse it. Nevertheless, thou shalt not pass unrewarded, for I will give thee thrice the full of the skin of red gold--one for thyself, and one for each of thy brothers." "Thy ransom is a good one, O king," said Brian; "but I am a near-hearted and suspicious man, and I pray thee let me see with my eyes thy servants measure the gold, lest they deal unfairly with me." The king agreed to this; so his servants went with the three sons of Turenn to the treasure-room, and one of them drew forth the skin from its place, to measure the gold. As soon as Brian caught sight of it, he sprang suddenly towards the servant, and, dashing him to the ground with his right hand, he snatched the skin with his left, and bound it hastily over his shoulders. Then the three drew their keen swords, and rushed into the banquet hall. The king's nobles, seeing how matters stood, surrounded and attacked them; but the[71] sons of Turenn, nothing daunted by the number of their foes, hewed down the foremost and scattered the rest, so that scarce one of the whole party escaped death or deadly wounds. Then at last Brian and the king met face to face, nor was either slow to answer the challenge of the other. They fought as great champions fight, and it was long doubtful which should prevail; but the end of the combat was, that the king of Greece fell by the overpowering valour of Brian, the son of Turenn. After this victory, the three brothers rested in the palace till they had regained their strength, and healed up their wounds by means of the apples and the pig's skin; and at the end of three days and three nights they found themselves able to undertake the next adventure. CHAPTER VIII. THE BLAZING SPEAR OF THE KING OF PERSIA. So, after holding council, they resolved to go to seek the spear of the king of Persia; and Brian reminded his brothers that now, as they had the apples and the skin to aid them, it would be all the easier to get the spear, as well as the rest of the fine. Leaving now the shores of Greece with all its blue streams, they went on board the canoe, which, at[72] Brian's command, flew across the wide seas; and soon they made land near the palace of Pezar, king of Persia. And seeing how they had fared so well in their last undertaking, they resolved to put on the guise of poets this time also. And so they put the poet's tie on their hair, and, passing through the outer gate, they knocked at the door of the palace. The door-keeper asked who they were, and from what country they had come. "We are poets from Erin," answered Brian; "and we have brought a poem for the king." 26 So they were admitted and brought to the presence of the king, who seated them among the nobles of his household; and they joined in the drinking and the feasting and the revelry. The king's poets now arose, and chanted their songs for the king and his guests. And when the applause had ceased, Brian, speaking softly, said to his brothers-- "Arise, now, and chant a poem for the king." But they answered, "Ask us not to do that which we are unable to do; but if you wish us to exercise the art we have learned from our youth, we shall do so, namely, the art of fighting and overcoming our foes." "That would be an unusual way of reciting poetry," said Brian; "but I have a poem for the king, and I shall now chant it for him." So saying, he stood up; and when there was silence, he recited this poem[73]-- In royal state may Pezar ever reign, Like some vast yew tree, monarch of the plain; May Pezar's mystic javelin, long and bright, Bring slaughter to his foes in every fight! When Pezar fights and shakes his dreadful spear, Whole armies fly and heroes quake with fear: What shielded foe, what champion can withstand, The blazing spear in mighty Pezar's hand! "Your poem is a good one," said the king; "but one thing in it I do not understand, namely, why you make mention of my spear." "Because," answered Brian, "I wish to get that spear as a reward for my poem." "That is a very foolish request," said the king, "for no man ever escaped punishment who asked me for my spear. And as to your poetry, the highest reward I could now bestow on you, and the greatest favour these nobles could obtain for you, is that I should spare your life." Thereupon Brian and his brothers started up in great wrath and drew their swords, and the king and his chiefs drew their swords in like manner; and they fought a deadly fight. But Brian at last, drawing forth one of his apples, and taking sure aim, cast it at the king and struck him on the forehead; so that Pezar fell, pierced through the brain. After this Brian fought on more fiercely than before, dealing destruction everywhere around him; but when the chiefs saw that their king had fallen, they lost heart and fled through the doors, till at[74] length none remained in the banquet hall but the three sons of Turenn. Then they went to the room where the spear was kept; and they found it with its head down deep in a great caldron of water, which hissed and bubbled round it. And Brian, seizing it boldly in his hand, drew it forth; after which the three brothers left the palace and went to their canoe. CHAPTER IX. THE CHARIOT AND STEEDS OF THE KING OF SIGAR. Resting now for some days from their toil, they resolved to seek the steeds and chariot of the king of Sigar; for this was the next part of the Ildana's eric-fine. So they commanded the canoe, and the canoe, obedient to their behest, glided swiftly and smoothly over the green waves till they landed in Sigar. Brian bore the great, heavy, venomed spear in his hand; and the three brothers were of good heart, seeing how they had succeeded in their last quest, and that they had now three parts of the fine. "In what shape think you we should go to this court?" said Brian. "How should we go," answered the others, "but in our own shapes, namely, as three hostile champions,[75] who have come to get the chariot and steeds, either by force or by good will?" "That is not what seems best to me," said Brian. "My counsel is, that we go as soldiers from Erin, willing to serve for pay; and should the king take us into his service, it is likely we shall find out where the chariot and steeds are kept." His brothers having agreed to this, the three set out for the palace. It happened that the king was holding a fair-meeting on the broad, level green before the palace; and when the three warriors came near, the people made way for them. They bowed low to the king; and he asked them who they were, and from what part of the world they had come. "We are valiant soldiers from Erin," they answered, "seeking for service and pay among the great kings of the world." "Do you wish to enter my service?" asked the king: and they answered, "Yes." So they made a covenant with each other--the king to place them in a post of honour and trust, and they to serve him faithfully, and to name their own reward. Whereupon the brothers entered the ranks of the king's body-guard. They remained in the palace for a month and a fortnight, looking round and carefully noting everything; but they saw nothing of the chariot and steeds. At the end of that time Brian said to his brothers-- "It fares ill with us here, my brothers; for we[76] know nothing of the chariot and steeds at this hour, more than when we first came hither." The others said this was quite true, and asked if he meant to do anything in the matter. "This is what I think we should do," answered Brian. "Let us put on our travelling array, and take our arms of valour in our hands; 27 and in this fashion let us go before the king, and tell him that unless he shows us the chariot and steeds, we shall leave his service." This they did without delay; and when they had come before the king, he asked them why they came to his presence so armed and in travelling gear. "We will tell thee of that, O king," answered Brian. "We are valiant soldiers from Erin, and into whatsoever lands we have travelled, we have been trusted with the secret counsels of the kings who have taken us into their service; and we have been made the guardians of their rarest jewels and of all their gifted arms of victory. But as to thee, O king, thou hast not so treated us since we came hither; for thou hast a chariot and two steeds, which exceed all the chariots and steeds in the world, and yet we have never seen them." "A small thing it is that has caused you to prepare for departure," said the king; "and there is, moreover, no need that you should leave my service; for I would have shown you those steeds the day you came, had I only known that you wished it. But ye shall see them now; for I have never had in my[77] service soldiers from a distant land, in whom I and my people have placed greater trust than we have placed in you." He then sent for the steeds, and had them yoked to the chariot--those steeds that were as fleet as the clear, cold wind of March, and which travelled with equal speed on land and on sea. Brian, viewing them narrowly, said aloud, "Hear me, O king of Sicily. We have served thee faithfully up to this time; and now we wish to name our own pay, according to the covenant thou hast made with us. The guerdon we demand is yonder chariot and steeds; these we mean to have, and we shall ask for nothing more." But the king, in great wrath, said, "Foolish and luckless men! Ye shall certainly die because you have dared to ask for my steeds!" And the king and his warriors drew their swords, and rushed towards the sons of Turenn to seize them. They, on the other hand, were not taken unaware; and a sore fight began. And Brian, watching his opportunity, sprang with a sudden bound into the chariot, and, dashing the charioteer to the ground, he seized the reins in his left hand; then, raising the venomed spear of Pezar in his right, he smote the king with its fiery point in the breast, so that he fell dead. And the three brothers dealt red slaughter among the king's guards, till those who were not slain scattered and fled in all directions. So they fared in this undertaking.[78] CHAPTER X. THE SEVEN PIGS OF THE KING OF THE GOLDEN PILLARS. After resting till their wounds were healed, Ur and Urcar asked where they should go next. "We shall go," said Brian, "to Asal, the king of the Golden Pillars, to ask him for his seven pigs; for this is the next part of the Ildana's eric-fine." So they set out; and the canoe brought them straightway to the land of the Golden Pillars, without delay and without mishap. As they drew nigh to the harbour, they saw the shore lined with men all armed. For the fame of the deeds of these great champions had begun to be noised through many lands; how they had been forced to leave Erin by the hard sentence of the Ildana; and how they were seeking and bearing away the most precious and gifted jewels of the world to pay the fine. Wherefore the king of the Golden Pillars had armed his people, and had sent them to guard the harbours. The king himself came down to the beach to meet them. As soon as they had come within speaking distance, he bade them stay their course; and then he asked them, in an angry and chiding tone, if they were the three champions from Erin, who had overcome and slain so many kings. Brian answered, "Be not displeased with us, O[79] king for in all this matter we are not to blame. The Ildana has demanded a fine which we perforce must pay; for we have promised, and the Dedannans are our guarantee. If the kings to whom he sent us had given us peaceably the precious things we demanded, we would gladly have departed in peace; but as they did not, we fought against them, unwillingly indeed and overthrew them; for no one has as yet been able to withstand us." "Tell me now," said the king, "what has brought you to my country?" "We have come for thy seven pigs," answered Brian; "for they are a part of the fine." "And in what manner do you think ye shall get them?" asked the king. Brian answered, "Thou hast heard, O king, how the Ildana has brought us to these straits, and we must pay him the fine, every jot, or else we shall die at the hands of our people. Thou, perchance, wilt have pity on our hardships, and give us these pigs in token of kindness and friendship, and if so we shall be thankful; but if not, then we will fight for them, and either bring them away by force, after slaying thee and thy people or fall ourselves in the attempt." Hearing this, the king and his people went into council; and after debating the matter at full length, they thought it best to give the pigs peaceably, seeing that no king, however powerful, had as yet been able to withstand the sons of Turenn. The three champions wondered greatly when this[80] was told to them; for in no other country had they been able to get any part of the fine without battle and hardship, and without leaving much of their blood behind them. So they were now very glad; and thanked Asal and his people. The king then brought them to his palace, and gave them a kind welcome; and they were supplied with food and drink to their hearts' desire, and slept on soft, downy beds. So they rested after all their weary journeys and toils. When they arose next morning, they were brought to the king's presence, and the pigs were given to them; and Brian addressed the king in these words-- 28 The prizes we've brought to this land, We have won them in conflict and blood; But the gift we have sought at thy hand, That gift thou hast freely bestowed. The red spear rewarded our deeds, When Pezar the mighty we slew; And the fight for the chariot and steeds, Ah, long shall the Sigarites rue! Great Asal! in happier days, When our deeds bring us glory and fame, Green Erin shall echo thy praise, And her poets shall honour thy name! [81] CHAPTER XI. THE HOUND-WHELP OF THE KING OF IRODA. "Whither do you go next, ye sons of Turenn?" asked Asal. "We go," answered Brian, "to Iroda, for Failinis, the king's hound-whelp." "Then grant me this boon," said the king, "namely, that ye let me go with you to Iroda. For my daughter is the king's wife; and I will try to prevail on him that he give you the hound-whelp freely and without battle." This they agreed to. But the king wished that they should go in his own ship; so it was got ready, and they went on board with all their wealth; and it is not told how they fared till they reached the borders of Iroda. The shores were covered with fierce, armed men, who were there by orders of the king to guard the harbour; and these men shouted at the crew, warning them to come no farther; for they knew the sons of Turenn, and well they knew what they came for. Asal then requested the three champions to remain where they were for a time, while he went on shore to talk with his son-in-law. Accordingly he landed, and went to the king, who, after he had welcomed him, asked what had brought the sons of Turenn to his country. [82] "They have come for your hound-whelp," answered Asal. And the king of Iroda said, "It was an evil counsel you followed, when you came with these men to my shores; for to no three champions in the world have the gods given such strength or such good luck as that they can get my hound-whelp, either by force or by my own free will." "It will be unwise to refuse them," replied Asal. "They have overpowered and slain many great kings; for they have gifted arms that no warrior, however powerful, can withstand; and behold, I have come hither to tell you what manner of men these are, that you might be advised by me, and give them your hound-whelp in peace." So he pressed him earnestly; but his words were only thrown away on the king of Iroda, who spoke scornfully of the sons of Turenn, and refused Asal's request with wrathful words. Asal, much troubled at this, went and told the sons of Turenn how matters stood. And they, having without delay put on their battle-dress, and taken their arms in their hands, challenged the king of Iroda and his people. Then began a very fierce and bloody battle; for though nothing could stand before the sons of Turenn, yet the warriors of Iroda were many and very brave. So they fought till the two younger brothers became separated from Brian, and he was quite surrounded. But as he wielded the dreadful spear of Pezar, with its blazing, fiery point,[83] his enemies fell back dismayed, and the ranks were broken before him, so that those who crossed his path stood in a gap of danger. At length he espied the king of Iroda, where he fought hedged round by spears; and he rushed through the thick of the battle straight towards him, striking down spears and swords and men as he went. And now these two valiant warriors fought hand to hand a stout and watchful and fierce battle--for the others fell back by the king's command; and it was long before any advantage was gained on either side. But though to those who looked on, Brian seemed the more wrathful of the two, yet he held back his hand, so as not to slay his foe; and this it was, indeed, that prolonged the combat, for he sought to tire out the king. At length, watching his opportunity, Brian closed suddenly, and, seizing the king in his strong arms, he lifted him clean off the ground, and bore him to where Asal stood. Then, setting him down, he said-- "Behold thy son-in-law; it would have been easier to kill him three times over than to bring him to thee once!" When the people saw their king a prisoner, they ceased fighting; and the end of all was that peace was made, and the hound-whelp was given over to the sons of Turenn. Then they took their leave, and left the shores of Iroda in friendship with the king and with Asal his father-in-law.[84] CHAPTER XII. RETURN OF THE SONS OF TURENN, WITH PART OF THE ERIC-FINE. 29 Now we shall speak of Luga of the Long Arms. It was revealed to him that the sons of Turenn had obtained all those parts of the fine which he wanted for the battle of Moytura;[11] but that they had not yet got the cooking-spit, or given the three shouts on Midkena's Hill. So he sent after them a druidical spell, which, falling on them soon after they had left Iroda, caused them to forget the remaining part of the fine, and filled them with a longing desire to return to their native home. Accordingly they went on board their canoe, bringing with them every part of the fine they had gotten already; and the canoe glided swiftly over the waves to Erin. At this time Luga was with the king at a fair-meeting on the plain before Tara; and it was made known to him secretly that the sons of Turenn had landed at Bruga of the Boyne. He left the assembly anon, telling no one; and he went direct to Caher-Crofinn[XLVII.] at Tara, and, closing the gates and doors after him, he put on his battle array, namely, the smooth Greek armour of Mannanan Mac Lir, and the enchanted mantle of the daughter of Flidas. [85] Soon after, the sons of Turenn were seen approaching; and as they came forward, the multitude flocked out to meet them, gazing with wonder at the many marvellous things they had brought. When the three champions had come to the royal tent, they were joyfully welcomed by the king and by the Dedannans in general; and then the king spoke kindly to them, and asked if they had brought the eric-fine. "We have obtained it after much hardship and danger," they replied; "and now we wish to know where Luga is, that we may hand it over to him." The king told them that Luga was at the assembly; but when they sent to search for him, he was nowhere to be found. "I can tell where he is," said Brian. "It has been made known to him that we have arrived in Erin, bringing with us gifted arms that none can withstand; and he has gone to one of the strongholds of Tara, to avoid us, fearing we might use these venomed weapons against himself." Messengers were then sent to Luga to tell him that the sons of Turenn had arrived, and to ask him to come forth to the meeting, that they might give him the fine. But he answered, "I will not come to the meeting yet; but go ye back, and tell the sons of Turenn to give the fine to the king for me." The messengers returned with this answer; and the sons of Turenn gave to the king for Luga all the wonderful things they had brought, keeping, however[86] their own arms; after which the whole company went into the palace. When Luga was told how matters stood, he came to where the king and all the others were; and the king gave him the fine. Then Luga, looking narrowly at everything that had been given up to him, said-- "Here, indeed, is an eric enough to pay for any one that ever yet was slain, or that shall be slain to the end of time. But yet there is one kind of fine that must be paid to the last farthing, namely, an eric-fine; for of this it is not lawful to hold back even the smallest part. And moreover, O king, thou and the Dedannans whom I see here present, are guarantees for the full payment of my eric-fine. Now I see here the three apples, and the skin of the pig, and the fiery-headed spear, and the chariot and steeds, and the seven pigs, and the hound-whelp; but where, ye sons of Turenn, is the cooking-spit of the women of Fincara? And I have not heard that ye have given the three shouts on Midkena's Hill." On hearing this, the sons of Turenn fell into a faintness like the faintness before death. And when they had recovered they answered not one word, but left the assembly and went to their father's house. To him and their sister Ethnea they told all that had befallen them; and how they should set out on another quest, as they had forgotten part of the eric-fine through the spells of Luga. At this Turenn was overwhelmed with grief; and[87] Ethnea wept in great fear and sorrow. And so they passed that night. Next day, they went down to the shore, and their father and sister went with them to their ship, and bade them farewell. CHAPTER XIII. THE COOKING-SPIT OF THE WOMEN OF FINCARA. Then they went on board their ship--for they had Mannanan's canoe no longer--and they sailed forth on the green billowy sea to search for the Island of Fincara. For a whole quarter of a year they wandered hither and thither over the wide ocean, landing on many shores and inquiring of all they met; yet they were not able to get the least tidings of the island. At last, they came across one very old man, who told them that he had heard of the Island of Fincara in the days of his youth; and that it lay not on the surface, but down deep in the waters, for it was sunk beneath the waves by a spell in times long past.[13] Then Brian put on his water-dress, with his helmet of transparent crystal on his head, and, telling his brothers to await his return, he leaped over the side of the ship, and sank at once out of sight. He walked about for a fortnight down in the green salt sea,[88] seeking for the Island of Fincara; and at last he found it. There were many houses on the island; but one he saw larger and grander than the rest. To this he straightway bent his steps, and found it open. On entering, he saw in one large room a great number of beautiful ladies, busily employed at all sorts of embroidery and needlework; and in their midst was a long, bright cooking-spit lying on a table. Without speaking a word, he walked straight to the table, and, seizing the spit in one hand, he turned round and walked towards the door. The women neither spoke nor moved, but each had her eyes fixed on him from the moment he entered, admiring his manly form, his beauty, and his fearlessness; but when they saw him about to walk off with the spit, they all burst out laughing; and one, who seemed chief among them, said-- 30 "Thou hast attempted a bold deed, O son of Turenn! Know that there are thrice fifty warlike women here, and that the weakest among us would be able of herself to prevent thee taking this cooking-spit, even if thy two brothers were here to help thee. But thou art a brave and courageous champion, else thou wouldst not have attempted, unaided, to take it by force, knowing the danger. And for thy boldness and valour, and for the comeliness of thy person, we will let thee take this one, for we have many others besides." So Brian, after thanking them, brought away the spit joyfully, and sought his ship. [89] Ur and Urcar waited for Brian in the same spot the whole time, and when he came not, they began to fear that he would return no more. With these thoughts they were at last about to leave the place, when they saw the glitter of his crystal helmet down deep in the water, and immediately after he came to the surface with the cooking-spit in his hand. They brought him on board, and now all felt very joyful and courageous of heart. CHAPTER XIV. THE THREE SHOUTS ON MIDKENA'S HILL. The three brothers next sailed away towards the north of Lochlann, and never abated speed till they moored their vessel near the Hill of Midkena, which rose smooth and green over the seashore. When Midkena saw them approaching, he knew them at once, and, coming towards them armed for battle, he addressed them aloud-- "You it was that slew Kian, my friend and pupil; and now come forth and fight, for you shall not leave these shores till you answer for his death." Brian, in no degree daunted by the fierce look and threatening speech of Midkena, sprang ashore, and the two heroes attacked each other with great fury.[90] When the three sons of Midkena heard the clash of arms, they came forth, and, seeing how matters stood, they rushed down to aid their father; but just as they arrived at the shore, Midkena fell dead, cloven through helmet and head by the heavy sword of Brian. And now a fight began, three on each side; and if men were afar off, even in the land of Hisberna, in the east of the world, they would willingly come the whole way to see this battle, so fierce and haughty were the minds of those mighty champions, so skilful and active were they in the use of their weapons, so numerous and heavy were their blows, and so long did they continue to fight without either party giving way. The three sons of Turenn were at last dreadfully wounded--wounded almost to death. But neither fear nor weakness did this cause them, for their valour and their fury arose all the more for their wounds, and with one mighty onset they drove their spears through the bodies of their foes; and the sons of Midkena fell before them into the long sleep of death. But now that the fight was ended, and the battle-fury of the victors had passed off--now it was that they began to feel the effects of their wounds. They threw themselves full length on the blood-stained sward, and long they remained without moving or speaking a word, as if they were dead; and a heavy curtain of darkness fell over their eyes. At last Brian, raising his head, spoke to his brothers to know if they lived, and when they answered him feebly, he said[91]-- "My dear brothers, let us now arise and give the three shouts on the hill while there is time, for I feel the signs of death." But they were not able to rise. Then Brian, gathering all his remaining strength, stood up and lifted one with each hand, while his own blood flowed plentifully; and