🧚 Opening, part 6

But when the Brothers told him of their oath In no man’s house to eat, or rest their head, Howe’er to slight a friendly welcome loth, Until with Conor they had broken bread, He turned to Fergus;--‘Oath thou too hast sworn Long since, to pass no friendly feast in scorn.1

‘Behold, for thee this day my board is decked; My dish is garnished; and my fatlings slain: Likewise to greet thee many a chief elect Hath sped this day from distant vale and plain: If vain their zeal, and all that loyal haste To greet my guest, I stand henceforth disgraced.’2

Him Fergus heard, and stood in anguish mute, His giant bulk bowed by his spirit’s pain That ever downward worked from scalp to foot: Like stag whom serpent folds begin to strain He stood--that strives in vain that coil to break-- And flame was on his face while thus he spake;3

‘Ill done, ill done, O Barach, is thy deed!4 Ill-timed, ill-omened, and unblest thy feast’-- Then Barach; ‘Let those Three to Conor speed; The king is greatest here, and I the least: But thou--thine oath that later pledge foreran: If broke, it lays thine honour under ban.’5

Still Fergus mused;--‘’Tis true: that oath I made; Made ere an upstart’s craft had filched my crown: To break it were my greatness to degrade, To blot a princely birth, a life’s renown: Uladh would cry; “He shames the blood of Roy To ’scape the frown of Nessa’s ill-crowned boy!”’6

Doubt bred new doubt:--away the False One strode; But Fergus still mused on, and never stirred, His royal head depressed and neck embowed; At last he turned to Naisi with this word, ‘What must I do?’7 But ere her lord replied, Deirdré spake first, with queenly port and pride:8

‘The choice is thine, not his; and this that choice; For a feast’s sake to cast from thee thy charge, Subject and servile to a courtier’s voice; Or spurn that feast, and walk, a soul at large.’9 And Fergus said; ‘My sons with thine and thee Might ride.10 I bind on them my guarantee.’11

Low-toned he spake; but Naisi heard, and thus Made answer, reddening like a rising moon, ‘We scorn their aid!12 Our swords suffice for us!13 All help beside we count a worthless boon!’14 Then Fergus frowned: At once from doubt released With them he sent his sons, and joined the feast.15

CANTO THE THIRD.16

So forth the Brothers rode, while high o’erhead Through that primeval forest’s woven screen Now in long lanes the sky its radiance shed, And now in purple stars of splendour keen; Nor far behind them marched the Usnach clan, Loud singing and on trampling like one man.17

But Deirdré slowly lifting eyes divine, Dewed with dark tears, upon the Brothers, spake; ‘True counsel, lo!18 I give you, brothers mine; And yet that counsel true ye will not take; There shine the rocks of Rathlin!19 On its shore Abide till this disastrous feast is o’er!’20

Then spake to Illan, Fergus’ kindlier son, The Ruthless Red; ‘Small faith in us they place!’21 Whom Naisi hearing, made reply, ‘Ride on:’ And Deirdré raised to heaven her heaven-sweet face, And made this song; for, as in girlhood, all Her musings, dark or bright, grew musical.22

‘O would my Love were safe in some far isle, And I were like some shadow passed away; Yea, though some other liegeful wife, the while, Partook his board at eve, his chase by day: For I am that doomed Babe of long ago; And I on those fair Three have brought this woe!23

‘One time by far Loch Etive--’twas in jest-- My Naisi kissed a sweet-eyed Alban maid: I sought my death! my bark from crest to crest I dashed, too deeply wounded to upbraid!24 The Brothers saw, and followed fast--and I-- Ah, that for me those peerless Three should die!’25

Meanwhile all day in light discourse or deep The sons of Usnach and of Fergus rode, And came at eve to Fuad’s mountain-steep; But Deirdré, bent for once by sorrow’s load Though strong, behind them dropped, and on a bank Moon-lit sat down; and slumber on her sank.26

There Naisi found her ’neath a yew-tree old, Shivering; and she his steps approaching knew Though sleeping still; and through the moonlight cold T’wards him stretched forth her hand so kind and true; And, ‘What, O what is this,’ he said, ‘My Queen?’27 Wak’ning she answered, anguished yet serene:28

‘A dream it was that kept me from thy side: Wakeful all day that dream I saw, and see: I saw great Fergus’ sons beside us ride, Brothers in blood; disjoined in destiny: Illan a bleeding bulk without a head, I saw: yet true he proved when traitors fled.29

‘Buini I saw, the Ruthless Red; full strong He towered, and stately as a summer tree: But, when that strife dishonest did us wrong, No help he proved, O Love, to thine and thee!30 So one was faithful, yet of greatness shorn: And one was greatness perjured and forsworn.31

‘Now ride we on!’ they rode for many an hour, Till, through an oak-glade in that glimmering wood, They saw Emania, veiled in cloud and shower: Above the edge of that black cloud there stood A moon nigh setting in a sanguine shroud; And many thunders heard they, far, not loud.32

Upon that sanguine shroud as on a sign Deirdré gazed long; then turned her eyes, and spake; ‘True counsel, lo!33 I give you, brothers mine, And yet that counsel true ye will not take; No further t’wards Emania ride this hour; Seek we, not far it stands, Cuchullain’s tower!34

‘Or house with Conal Carnach, leal and true: He to the court ere noon with us will ride-- Naisi! when on that causeway I and you That evening sang, what prayer hadst thou denied?’35 Yet, though she chid him, nearer him she crept: The one sole time that in his arms she wept!36

Buini drew near!37 At once the Three replied, ‘Because we never feared and cannot fear To Eman on we will whate’er betide!’38 Unseen by him she wiped away her tear; While from the black boughs fell a poison-dew; And Fate her net more closely round them drew.39

Thenceforth was Deirdré changed.40 To Eman’s gate They rode, and thrice beneath it blew their horn: Indifferent, yea, as one with either fate Alike content, she spake in careless scorn; ‘Omens the Druids find in bird and beast: A Druid I; a laughing one at least!41

‘I doubted Conor’s faith: if mine the fault Harbouring distrust, King Conor thus will speak: “Abide with me three months: partake my salt; Drink of my cup; my bread securely break!”42 If under alien roof he bids us lie Then know his pit is dug; and we shall die.’43

She spake! around her lip a smile there curled; Her kindling eye was fixed as eye of one Who sees, beyond the limits of the world, Beyond the thresholds of our moon and sun, Beyond the abysmal night, a gleam of day, And can abide the issue come what may.44

As thus they stood the gates were opened wide; Anon forth stepped a herald with this word, ‘Great Sirs, the King, himself by sickness tried, Within the Red-Branch House hath decked your board With Uladh’s best, from mead and river brought:’ They on each other gazed, yet answered nought.45

‘He bids you there with blessing.’46 At that speech Silent they sought that House.47 In stately throng The knights received them: yet on brows of each Devoid of guile, a dubious sadness clung: Not less the seats were set; the tables spread: Nor ceased that revel till the day was sped.48