UBRARY OF CONGRESS DOOlbfl^SbtO "a o'' *^ ^>^ v^'^ •^^ .s^ ^-^^ ,-0^ . ^A v^ >^ -ON. '^^^^■' y^' .^^^S^'^ '^ A^ ■ - V ' « A-^' xO=?<. ^^ >=^ o 0' ^,. V^^ Oo V ^ V * , ,j^- * ^ c c> -Claces the meat upon the table. Like a beacon sits it there To guide my ships that homeward fare. What great monsters wonderful Men are. They'll be utter dull To these flowers I periled neck To gather on the cliff, to deck 49 Hall and table. They'll not choose To see them — as great oxen use To puff the daisies with their breath, While they crop the grass beneath. Oh, my cakes — 1 had forgot. She goes over to the fire and rakes aside the ashes and takes forth a numder of cakes which she piles on the table. Would they would come while ail is hot! They must be here soon. I will bring The mead. They'll want that the first thing. She takes from a cupboard a great pitcher of mead and several flagons. So! my banquet ready is. Oh, what pure and perfect bliss Thus to serve the ones I love! Where does woman richer move Than my very self. I have A husband, noble, true and brave; And a brace of brothers, who Guard me as a deer her doe. Hunting with them in the highlands. Fishing with them 'mid the islands, I have wandered weeks and weeks. Safely kept from him who seeks. Oft on Laidh's overhanging fields I have slept on their three shields. Oft in Eithe's fairy scene Their cloaks my coverlet have been. Of this cave now I am queen. King of Ulster — Alba's King, Defiance unto both I flinc;. A whistle is heard. Ha, there's Naolse, he comes first! She goes to the entrance of the cave and loel- comes Naoise, who gives her his how and drops a heavy load of birds at her feet. 50 NAOISE: Well, girl, I've not fared the worst! DEIRDRE: The others have not come. But, oh, What a mass of gleam and glow Feathered things, bronze garmented! NAOISE: They'll eat well! DEIRDRE: Poor child, you're dead With hunger and fatigue, I think. Sit, sir, sit, and eat and drink. NAOISE: To my queen I drink and bow! DEIRDRE: Oh, don't bother with me now, You are faint from want of food. NAOISE: Well, enough is here — and good. Another whistle is heard. DEIRDRE: Which is that? NAOISE: Together they Went, while I strayed far away. Enter Ainle with a great creel of fish and Ardan with a deer slung over his shoulders. DEIRDRE: Oh, you darling boys! Why here Food is 'gainst all famine fear. Trout like moonlight turned to ore With fire and shadow speckled o'er And two salmon. Luck unheard! AINLE: Big as both of them a third Lost I, and my best line, too! ARDAN: 'Scaped. The big ones always do! DEIRDRE: But, oh, master of the deer. This great monster you have here Crowns you this day conqueror. Wear this chain that does confer Rank and headship o'er our feast. ARDAN: It was nothing. Such a beast — Who could miss it? AINLE: Ardan chased Twenty miles around the lake. Ere a chance shot he could take. 51 DEIRDRE: Well, be seated. Welcome all, To this hunters' festival. AINLE: Wilt thou not seat thee, sister sweet? DEIRDRE: No, I'll graze upon thy feet! She moves about the table serving them. Then she goes over and stands hy Naoise. Oh, my brothers! Oh, my love! I brood o'er you as a dove Broods within her nested tent! Everything is excellent In this life of ours for me. But for you — can exile be Half endurable? Can stir Of this woodland character Make up for the glorious strife Wherewith your older days were rife. Are you happy? Tell me true. Ardan dwells content in you. ARDAN: Happy! 1! DEIRDRE: Yes, are you? ARDAN: Me, Contented! AINLE: Let him drain his drink — He can't, at once, do that and think. ARDAN: There is nothing calls for thought. Here are days on days of sport, Chase on land, in air and sea — Exercise eternally! Here's our sister and our queen To dress our game — and turn the scene To a home where gods m.ight haunt. What more can any mortal want? DEIRDRE: My dear big brother! Ainle, say Wouldst thou rather wing away? • AINLE: Sweet my sister — long and late. Thou knowest I love to meditate ■52 What the bards and Druids dream Of the world's enringing scheme. Here's my chance. I fish — and so The great thoughts that to and fro Wander thro' the outer vast Take I — many at a cast. South our way is barred, and east Sits a King with ire increased By the failure of his men. Us to capture. Surely, then. We must either onward press Over sea or wilderness Or sit here in charmed ease. Truly, Deirdre, I'm at peace. DEIRDRE: Thank you, brother. Naoise, now 'Tis your turn to disavow Me, and what for me is done. NAOISE: Strange it were if I alone — I who wear the gem of gems. Kings crave for their diadems, I who see its fire unveiled, Radiance that has never failed — Should my happiness deny. I am happy — utterly — Save to see thee Deirdre thus — Thou of soul imperious Unto servile business schooled; In poor dress thy beauty dulled; Thou a jev/el which should show By its setting more aglow. DEIRDRE: Foolish flatterer. I'd not change Had I ail earth's courts to range. We're content, then, every one. Come, my guests, the banquet's done. NAOISE: Yes. Appoint our evening tasks! DEIRDRE: Ardan's hard won headship asks Ease from labor. Naught for him — See the sunset shafts grow dim; Twilight from earth's other rim Rises. Bring you, Naoise, here Wood to make our fire burn clear. Naoise goes out. Ainle, light the torches. I Do my tasks of housewifery. They busy tliemselves ivith their respective occupations. ARDAN: Ho, I am tired! AINLE: Is't possible! ARDAN: Ho, I am sleepy! AINLE: Strange to tell! DEIRDRE: I dismiss you — courtier guest. By your watch fire take your rest. AINLE: Come, Ardan, we're not wanted here. Soon the King will reappear, Banish us and banish light; DEIRDRE: Will you not stay, sir? Then good night. AINLE: Good night, sweet sister! ARDAN: Aye, good night. They go out. DEIRDRE: What dear creatures admirable These are. But to Naoise — well, He is of a different race. Larger mould and higher grace, I can queen it over these. My souTs to Naoise on its knees. Re-enter Naoise with a load of wood, which he throws down by the fire. Ha! my warrior bearing wood — Wait a moment. Let this hood O'er our cavern be unfurled. She draws a curtain of skins over the en- trance of the cave. 54 Shut are we from all the world, Shut from harass, shut from harms — . Live we in each others' arms. NAOISE: How can there be exile where Leagues on leagues of nut brown hair Fold me in — a continent? How can there be banishment, When in depths of your gray eyes Love's new lighted beacons rise, Showing headlands far remote. Woodland, temple, pastoral, cote? How can I miss aught that earth Marks of moment or of worth, So surrounded by such charms, The horizon of your arms? Come, my girl, be sweetly led To our still new nuptial bed. DEIRDRE: Oh, too soon — too soon it is. Let us dally with our bliss. Let us sit here face to face, And beneath these torches trace Thoughts that flesh transparent are — Be removed a trifle far — Nay, this table shall be bar — Sit and gaze we. And, oh, yes, We may have a game of chess! Here's the figures mustered. You shall have the warrior red, I the woman cinctured white. 'If you beat me I will bite! NAOISE: Move, oh, mighty opposite! DEIRDRE: King's pawn out. NOAISE: I echo it. DEIRDRE: Ha! my horses strain the bit. So! NAOISE: My Bishop marches forth. DEIRDRE: Moves my other Knight. 55 NAOISE: Full wroth Goes my Queen to face the foe. DEIRDRE: My Knight threatens it. But, no; I withdraw it — change it. I Hate, despise such treachery — In one move you'd checkmate me. NAOISE: Be more watchful! A shrill cry is heard without. What was that? DEIRDRE: Starting up in agitation. Nothing! Shriek of bird or bat. Ainle's voice without. Naoise, Naoise, wake, rejoice! Comes a man of Erin's voice. DEIRDRE: No! a man of Alba, 'tis. Hide we, so perchance he miss! NAOISE: Ainle, quench your fire and bide Quiet on the mountain side! The cry is heard again. Ardan from without: 'Tis a man of Erin calls! Echoing from the mountain walls. Naoise, Naoise — comes thy name. DEIRDRE: Alba sends him for our shame. Go not forth, my husband! NAOISE: Dear, For myself the thing I'd hear. He goes out. DEIRDRE: Oh, my dream, my dream, my dream! The cry comes again and Naoise returns. NAOISE: It Is Fergus. And I deem Happy the event to us; Royal, frank, impetuous, Loyal friend to Usnach's sons — No deceit in his blood runs. 56 DIERDRE: It is Fergus, well I know! NAOISE: To the beach, my brothers, go, There to meet him and here bring Home for rr\y wife's welcoming. DIERDRE: I knew Fergus at first cry! NAOISE: Knowing, why didst thou deny? DEIRDRE: I a vision had last night — Saw three ravens in full flight From Emania flying forth, Flying straight unto the North; Each one in its beak did bring Sup of some sweet honey thing; But when us they left for good Each one bore a sup of blood. NAOISE: What thinkest thou the dream may mean? DIERDRE: Fergus coming to the scene, Messenger of Ulster's King, Bringing honey, bringing sting! True herald of false >^onor, he Bears deceit unwittingly. NAOISE: Needs not that we be deceived; But Fergus must be v/ell received. The curtain of the cave is thrown aside and enter Fergus in full armor; after him Ainle and Ardan. Oh, to see thee once again — King of battle! King of men! Welcome, Fergus, to our hearth. FERGUS: I have run you to the earth. Ha! my man of Erin — thou Unto whom the best must bow — Glad am I that our two hands Meet once more in iron bands. NAOISE: Be my wife — be Deirdre known, To my friend shall be her own! 57 FERGUS: Deirdre! This indeed is she Rumored over land and sea; She whose name thro' many realms Bares the swords and shakes the helms; Like a goddess seen by few, But haunting the whole country thro'. Deirdre! Beautiful thou art, Outward moulded from thy heart! I thy soldier at thy feet Offer up my life complete. DEIRDRE: Do not mock me, mighty sir — Thou art Fate's great officer. I in Fortune's graces bad — Most indifferently clad — FERGUS: That shall be as you desire. NAOISE: Seat you, Fergus, by the fire. We are mad, man, for the news. DEIRDRE: First the draught the woodland brews. Let me serve our guest withal. Fergus, drinking. Luck unto this cavern hall, Luck to Deirdre, Naoise, all. NAOISE: What of Ulster— Banba— say? FERGUS: Go and learn yourself. You may! NAOISE: How! FERGUS: Thus: You are forgiven all! Homeward Conor does you call! NAOISE: Well, I doubt it. AINLE: So do I. Rather farther must we fly. FERGUS: Listen! In his Royal House Conor sat in mid carouse. Red Branch heroes sat around, Warriors, too, from foreign ground; There Cuchulain's matchless might, There Feircetne, poet Knight, 58 Cathba there and Conall there Glowed upon the torched air. Feasting, drinking, singing, praising, Warrior-art and Beauty raising. Sat the circle at its ease All in concord, all at peace. Rose up Conor — ''Knights," he cried, "Need we aught to make our pride Still more perfect? Lack we yet Jewels for our carcanet." "No," we answered; "all is well." "Ah," he sighed out; "I can tell Three great wants— three lights that fail, Luminaries of the Gael, Usnach's sons, the glorious three. Lack to our festivity. For a woman they are lost — Little purchased at much cost." Then we shouted in accord, "Dared we, we had said, oh, lord. Long ago, that very word." "Fergus, go, ambassador To these nobles we grieve for. Bid them back, to reassume Their old places in this room. And be Deirdre sorrow shriven, Fugitive no more, forgiven! Fergus go — with feet of flame." So the King — and so I came. NAOISE: Whether it be deep deceit. Or the wine cup's generous heat, Nothing Conor's word I trust. Thou believest, as thou must. In the King's sincerity. Blackest plot it seems to me. AINLE: 'Tis impossible! No man Could forgive as this King can. What! His long betrothed bride Stolen; all his dreams and pride Humbled, tumbled on the ground! And to him who gave the wound Sends he messages of peace! Fergus, miracles do cease. ARDAN: We're content with what Is won. Hunters' risk all men must run; But who ventures, unarmed, in A bear's den bearing the cub's skin — FERGUS: So! I thought to find you thus Doubting and incredulous. But remember! Facts you'll find To prove Conor's noble mind. By tne warrior conclave doomed Was the babe who now has bloomed To this glowing human flower. Her he rescued by his power, Bred her nobly, touched her not, Maiden left her without spot. Think, oh, sons of Usnach, too, Of his favor unto you. Well it may be that his age Spreads o'er you all in parentage. He is honest — that believe — And no plots does Fergus weave. Think, too, heroes of your life Exiled from the knightly strife. Soon does valor rust, unused — Soon the wreath withdraws, refused. You may chase the deer and take Fishes from the ocean lake, But no honor comes your way. But no glory gilds your day; Sounding trumphets, shattering spears, Wake and live not in your ears. Comes no clamor of your peers; Splendor, standing o'er the dead, Splendor, sat rose garlanded In the banquet after fight — To all this you bid good night. Naoise, come! Within its stall Stamps your steed at battle call. Ardan, come! The ranked men Wait to cry your name again. Ainle, come! Great eyes grow dim That for you with light would swim. Back, oh, heroes, with me go. Comrades wait you — waits the foe. NAOISE: Oh, King's son, my heart is sad With the hopes my morning had — Glorious combat, glorious games. Growing of our warlike names. From my shield I turn in gloom. Sigh at shaking of my plume; My sword breathes reproachful breath When I draw it from its sheath. In my dreams I fighting pass Where the foeman thickest mass; In my dreams again I see High Emania's heraldry. Shields ablazon in their rank. But where mine should be — a blank. It is over— all is done — I must on as I've begun. Driven here and there' neath ban, Patient hunter — fisherman. Deirdre is my joy, my care She makes life sweet anywhere. And shall I surrender her To Conor as a conqueror? Not while breath does in me stir! End thy pleadings — say no more! FERGUS: Unto Deirdre's self I turn — Lady, will you here inurn. Like the ashes of the dead. Heroes of the war crests red? Here thy life is poor and hard, Endless toil for poor reward; Homely duties do thee tire; Homely robes eclipse thy fire; 61 Suns shall scorch thee, snows shall freeze; Rough and hard shall grow thy hands; Gray shall streak thy brow's rich bands; In thy youth thou shalt be bent, Pale with grief and discontent; And thy swiftly darting mind, Unto petty things confined. Shall lose its wings that match the wind; And thy lover he shall see All these changes wrought in thee. See him chained to such a wraith; And shall curse thee with his breath; Pouring on thee words of blame, For frustration of his fame. Now the other picture see: Glorious halls of revelry; Gardens rich with ardent flowers; Cool chambers for thy dreamy hours; Servants waiting on thy will; Wines and viands wrought with skill; Garments splendid, gold bedecked; Gems that bedew thy flower aspect; Poets' praises to thee sung; Companionship the wise among; And thy fame borne fair and far. Blazed o'er Erin like a star. By thy love — the lord of war! Cans't thou doubt to choose this path, Doubt the joys the future hath? DEIRDRE: III becomes it I should deem Myself so desired a dream That for me war must unfurl. Such a coil for one poor girl Were a folly — and perchance Conor means what you advance. But I know his iron will. Direful doubts my bosom fill. But that way I cannot hark, But that way to me is dark. 62 Yet if it be as it is, That I keep my lord from bliss, From the paths that he has trod — Keep my husband and my god He may go, tho' breaks my heart. He may from our home depart. I some poor man's hut will seek, Surest refuge of the weak. And will pay for miy small needs. Tending herds or weaving reeds. Go, oh, Naoise, to your fame. Go from her your mouth shall blame. FERGUS: Halt, oh, Naoise, hear my oath: By the wheeling sky fires both. Sun and moon — by all the stars. By the sea and mountain bars — I will keep you safe from harm. Not one look that may alarm Deirdre, shall upon her fall If my power prevail at all. Conor's faith is pledged to me; Pledge I mine again to thee. And as surest hostage thing My two sons with me I bring. If ye die, then they must die. And for more security Bring I pledge of Conall's faith; He v/ill guard you to the death. And the great Cuchulain sends Message to his first of friends. That he stands upon the path. Keeping you from Conor's wrath. Deem you this enough? Decide. I no more with you may bide. He rises. NAOISE: Aye, enough — enough indeed — We were craven more to need, nearest thou, Deirdre? Fergus swears Us to safeguard. Conall dares 63 Conor's power — and, the most, Great Cuchulain — like a host, Guards us on yon hostile coast. Girded by such swords as these All the Kings of the four seas, Could not pluck thee from my side. Off to Erin — home — we ride O'er the sullen plunging tide — Ardan, Ainle, fill our chest; Take the best and leave the rest. Ardan and Ainle go to work to fill a large chest with weapons and clothes. Fergus, may we wing our flight, May we go abroad to-night? FERGUS: Come. I've wine in hold that you For ages have been stranger to. Dresses for Deirdre, too, I have — And my boys her coming crave. DEIRDRE: Pardon! by this lonely hearth Let me wait out your time of mirth. I've much thinking yet to do Ere I be among your crew. NAOISE: Deirdre, 'tis your lord command. Cease silent wringing of your hands, Cease to be In black relief The statue of a dream of grief! All is joy, girl! Thou'll become A goddess in our new old home — Wilt not to the boat? Well, then- One kiss until I come again. ARDAN: Way for the exiles' baggage train. Ainle and Ardan go out carrying the chest between them. FERGUS: Come, Naoise, the wine waits in vain. They go out and Deirdre is left alone. DEIRDRE: Wonders of my mountain home Alba, never had I come 64 Here save following my love. Now to death his footsteps move. I must leave thee — in whose wild Arms I cradled like a child. Vale of Laidh, oh Vale of Laidh, Soft thy slopes for me were made! I. Vale of Masan, where I had Rocking sleep in branches glad! Glendarua, mountain vale, Sheltered from the shattering gale, There the cuckoo's voice I heard, I, unfettered as the bird! Dearer yet this cliff of Droighn, Where the sands and waters join, Where I lit my cavern fire, Glowing like my love's desire! Let me kiss this entrance door: Stately forms pass here no more. Let me kiss this banquet board: Joy no more may it afford. Let me, oh, embrace my bed, Where no more my lover's head Shall sleep, pillowed on my breast. Cold, oh, cold must be the nest — My brain is wildered thro' and thro' — Something I have yet to do. What is it? Ah, yes, 1 must Make ready for our voyage to dust. She goes to a cuploard and takes therefrom a little vial. This which did the manhounds still Can my frailer forces kill; This can keep my form and face Safe from Conor's dread embrace; Nestle on my bosom thou, Better guard than Fergus' vow! I must lay me down, I think, Tho* my eyelids scarce will sink. On my lonely bed begins The divorce that death soon wins! 65 She lies down on her hed of skins. Then there enters, in apparition into the cave, the spectral forms of Naoise, Ainle and Ardan. The last two carry a large open chest between them, which they set down on the floor. They all seat themselves at the table in silence. Deirdre springs up at first to greet them, but sink;* back in fear. Back returned! oh, joyful hour, Ends the spell of Conor's power. Luring us unto our doom! Your own minds ye reassume! What is this? Cold horrors freeze Thro' my bosom's mould, at these Beings of unearthly mien, Stalking so upon this scene; With their faces ghastly white, Blazing with some under light, With their unreturning gaze Forward looking into space, With their dank and matted hair; With their garments as of air; Naoise, Ainle, Ardan — who Fill your forms up now, to do Things of fell and dread intent? Ye are seated. Excellent! I would totter to my feet. Serve ye there with wine and meat. But my limbs refuse their wont, My blood freezes at its fount. Bodies are ye from the grave Corpse-lit signals set to save? Are ye pre-existing ghosts, Rivals of men's marching hosts, Their unearthly opposites. Whose dim domination blights Mortals when to them revealed? Bring ye word of doom concealed? Awful apparitions, are Ye the heraldings of war? Silent, silent, sit ye there, With your eyeballs fixed on air; Not a motion, not a sound. Save me! Save me! On the ground Grovel I and hide my face. In my bedclothes' warm embrace I shut out that phantom blaze. A pause. Wait the apparition's still, Sight to blast and life to kill? Ah, they sit there as before, Moveless more, and dreadful more! But one mighty shape that wears Ardan's image, as a glass, Slowly, slowly to me turns. White his face upon me burns, Moves his hands unto his throat — He undoes his cloudlike coat; Oh, the great and awful gash, Showing like a crimson sash On the white and pillared neck. Pity, pity, oh, thou wreck Of my noble brother's might! Turns he from me — -from the light! And the second spectre bends — Image of my best of friends, Ainle— with a solemn smile. And he lifts his helm the while! Horror! 'Mid those clustering curls, BurniGhed, glowing like a girl's, Is a great and gaping wound. Hide me! All the world whirls round! For the third soul-freezing dream, That does Naoise's image seem. Turns on me his glorious eyes. Wherein dwell all majesties. All the sadness, all the charm That does the immortals arm, 67 And he opes his cloudy vest, Shows the secret of his breast. Oh, upon that whitest flesh Blood is oozing — redly fresh — I must die — my strength is done, All my spirit is forgone. She falls hack on the bed. A pause. Air, i must have air — must rise. Black shapes move before my eyes. Ha! they clear away. Stone set Is that ghastly circle yet. No! in lofty courtesy They rise, too, to echo me! Now they leave me — rooted fast— And each one as he files past Bows to me with solemn grace: I must leave, must leave this place. See! Their burden back they bear To some palace of the air! What strange treasure, secret thing, Guard they so — so carrying? I must see it! Power comes back, I can move upon their track. Ha! They halt and place once more Their burden down upon the floor. Open to my fearing sight; Stand they back to give me light. What is this enrobed in white. Filmy, jewelled, exquisite? 'Tis a woman's slender form, Broken flower, crushed by some storm. Half the face of it is shown — 'Tis my own — my own — my own! Me at last my soul forsakes! She falls swooning to the ground. The lights go out, the vision disappears. In a moment or two the curtain of the cave is flung open, dis- closing the pale light of dawn. Naoise stands in the doorway. NAOISE: Deirdre, come! The morning breaks. SCENE 6. A 'brilliantly lighted chamher in the House of the Red Branch at Emania. A great stairway opens at the rear to the lower floor. Windows at the hack. A table furnished with wine, chessmen, floivers, etc., at one side. Arms are hung upon the walls. Deirdre, Lavarcam and Naoise. LAVARCAM: Back! Oh, back! DEIRDRE: How camst thou here, Mother-nurse? LAVARCAM: In hurrying fear, When was known thy coming, I Left Conor's palace secretly, Swift to warn thee, swift to send Thee a backward course to wend. What doest here, ill-omened bride? Bringst her, man, to Conor's side? NAOISE: Why, oh, mother, all is well. All yet is hospitable. We're received with feast and lights. LAVARCAM: Aye, but not among the Knights — Not as guests in open hall, Mid the Red Branch festival; There some safety might be had. But here, 'mid the trophies sad. Heads of enemies and arms Won on fields of old alarms, Ye are sent. And ye are come Here to wait your hour of doom. Where is Fergus? NAOISE: He was met. Taken in a pledged net, When we landed, by a Knight Who claimed the hospitable rite. But his two sons sent he on, He will follow by the morn. 69 LAVARCAM: Better never than too late! Oh, the fools, the fools of fate! Ha! the royal eagle sends His sole brood to evil ends. NAOISE: But Cuchulain with us stands, Shield against all armed hands. LAVARCAM: Petty blaze of border strife Keeps him, at the moment rife With all consequence of ill, From you. Such is Conor's skill. NAOISE: Conall Cearnach, he alone, Like a rock whereon is blown Waves to spray and filmy mist, Will suffice us to resist. LAVARCAM: The King's jesters yesterday, In their bragging and their play. Challenged him unto a bout Of drinking the day in and out. They are at it. Conall's head Is a maze disordered; Friend he knows not from his foe. All thy bulwarks are laid low. DEIRDRE: We are taken In a net; Round us are the hunters met. Struggle we a little yet. LAVARCAM: There's one hope. With feast begun Conor's blood not yet doth run Fire enough to make him mad: Some little time is to be had. Put you on some poor disguise, Steal you forth tnro' guards and spies. Seek some shelter, till friends can Make head against that desperate man. NAOISE: No! I will not. Deirdre may. DEIRDRE: Leave you? When was that my way! Like a pigeon long repressed I fly home unto my nest; I was born here — here will rest. 70 Naoise, my soul wakeneth To the practice of high death. NAOISE: Some shall die ere we be cold. This place is strong and fit to hold. We can boast five mighty swords, Better Ireland scarce affords. Ainle, Ardan, Ulric, I — Irloth. Are these men to fly? LAVARCAM: Bar the doors, the windows bar; Every implement of war, Spear and sword and barbed sting, Pile up for your warfaring. If ye can but hold the house Till Conall wake from his carouse, Till Fergus or Cuchulain come. Ye may put aside the doom. I will hie to Conor, and Will give the King to understand That Deirdre is a wraith of woe. Wreck of the maiden he did know, A ruin of rich womanhood, Discrowned of her hair's rich flood. Worn with hardship, pale and thin, Unfit his court to enter in, Not worthy of a thought of love. Ugliness hates he. This will move The King his onset to delay. And the winged hours are in our pay. DEIRDRE: Noble nurse! For us go forth. Something I will show of worth. Exit Lavarcam. Do our brothers, do our friends, Naoise, know what storm portends? NAOISE: Nothing! Gay and blithe they feast. Hark! Their revel noise increased! DEIRDRE: Call them hither. Tell them all. NAOISE: Going to the head of the stairs. 71 Ho! below there in the hall! Ainle, Ardan, Irloth — here. Ainle, Ardan, Irloth and Ulric come l)ounding up the stairs. IRLOTH: Prince, before you we appear. NAOISE: Heroes, chiefs of Ulster, men, We are taken in a den, Treacherously death beset. Conor's trap is ready set. We have entered. No retreat Is there for this woman sweet, Or for me, who from the King Snatched such blazing wonder thing. But there yet is time for you To turn back, make terms and go Safely from our shade that kills. Brothers, ah, I know your wills. You disdain to make reply. Well, our threefold force we'll try. But ye others? Fergus' brood? Half pledged eaglets — warriors good. But unpracticed — will ye save Lives the future will prove brave? We release you. Bid you go. Ye may easy pass the foe. IRLOTH: With one voice our spirits speak. Never will we promise break. Thou our father's pledge has ta'en. We hold by it, till again Comes he as your sheltering shield. Never, never will we yield Up the lady. So we both Kneel before her to make oath. DEIRDRE: Brave defenders! Glorious youths! Great the souls behind your mouths. Mine leaps forth in equal poise. Naoise, may I kiss these boys? NAOISE: 'Tis permitted. 72 DEIRDRE: There and there, Irloth, Ulric! Badges wear On each blushing cheek and brow. She kisses them both on the 'brow and cheek. IRLOTH: I spring up a hero now! ULRIC: I am crowned like a King! AINLE: If such favors are a-wing, Seems me I should have a share. ARDAN: And I, too. My sword will flare Fiercer thro' the foeman flood, If thou wakest thus my blood. DEIRDRE: Flinging herself into Ainle's arms. Oh, my brother, wisest friend. Bear my kiss unto the end. Message of my grateful heart. Embracing Ardan. Mighty one, who tookst my part. From the hour thou saw'st me first, Still undreading at the worst. Still undoubting. Ever move With assurance of my love. NAOISE: Now to make this place secure. Make a fortress of our lure. Ha! When Conor comes, he shall Find a wall behind a wall. They throng tumultuously down the stairs. DEIRDRE: Now my soul a little learns Of the belting fire that burns Round the universal world. Beauty, art thou in me furled? Thou a torch art in the dark, Thou art the half slumbering spark That can make a bonfire blaze. Thou art wonder and amaze To the dulled, tired mortal mind Thou art idol, worshipped, shrined, 73 Lifting liuman thoughts above; Thou art inspiration, love; Wine and warmth art thou to make Starved and frozen hearts awake; Thou art poison subtly sent Thro' each veined integument; Thou art gem of pulsing rays, Man-consuming in thy blaze; Thou art basilisk at whose look Mortals fall as thunderstrook; Flower of envenomed breath. Thou art treason, hatred, death; Thou art shaker down of Kings, Leveller of all lofty things. Dost thou me inhabit now? She sees a burnished mirror of steel on the wall near the table. Here's a witness will avow! Yes, 'tis something. Triumph so May I? Never! Tremble? No! I am faultless. I am Fate. Love I usher — usher hate. Yet my color comes to know If I go to death, I go As a somewhat equal foe. And it seems unto my eyes I am robed for sacrifice. White my garment: filmy lace. Does my neck and arms embrace, Pearls upon my bosom fall. She sees a basket of flowers upon the table. Here are flowers wherewithal To put fire in this pale ghost. Conor, art thou lover-host, To send garlands to thy dear? Well, I'll use them. She arranges flowers on her bosom. 74 Roses here. Now a crown to top my hair — Red and yellow mingling there. She swiftly arranges some flowers in a gar- land, twining it into her hair. Now more suited I appear To the battle ball that's near. Perfumed so with roses wreath For the bridal bed of death. Re-enter Naoise. NAOISE: We are ready. When they please We will meet their courtesies. Let the swarm upon us fall! DEIRDRE: Hear you aught from Conor's hall? NAOISE: On the stillness of the night Far off noises, laughter light, Song of revellers, upward swell. DEIRDRE: Waiting is intolerable. Here are chessmen. Come, the same Old and interrupted game Let us finish. NAOISE: As you will. May the blood-scent bring you skill. Why you splendor, fairy elf. What have you done to yourself. DEIRDRE: Made myself as beautiful As one should whose breast is full Of reverence for her warrior lord. NAOISE Dear, your hand across the board! DEIRDRE: There, the pieces are reset. 'TIs your move. NAOISE: Your King I threat; Check. DEIRDRE: Pawn's interposed. NAOISE: Again, With my Bishop. 75 DEIRDRE: Bishop's ta'en. Ha! My lord, 'tis you are wild. NAOISE: Yes! I'm playing like a child. DEIRDRE: Take it back. Oh, gods of grace. Naoise, see that hideous face Peering thro' the window there. Disembodied, hung in the air. The embrasure is so high. NAOISE: 'Tis a foul and felon spy. Take that, sir, for your reward. He picks up one of the heavy chessmen and flings it at the face. It disappears and a crash- ing fall is heard. Ha! height climbers may fall hard. DEIRDRE: Well, our game is done again. It is time to face the pain Of our parting. Sweet, to-night Ends perchance our wedded rite. Can you, Naoise, her forgive Thro' whom your days are fugitive? NAOISE: Forgive her? Thank her rather, I My crown of all felicity. DEIRDRE: Have I really happy made, Satisfied you, to a shade. NAOISE: Thou art perfect woman, wife, Goddess, making rich my life. DEIRDRE: Was your love not from me wiled By the Lord of Duntrone's child? NAOISE: Pshaw! That was before we met. It was nothing. Pray forget. DEIRDRE: Well, I'm happy. Kiss me. So To my last sleep I can go. NAOISE: Why will thou so sadly yield Hope up of this unfought field? Hard the struggle, great the cost, Ere Conor wins and we are lost. 76 There are no warriors in this pale Who singly 'gainst us can prevail. Each of us is fourth in place 'Mid the heroes of our race. We three might Cuchulain fAce. DEIRDRE: Pardon! I will banish fear. A war goddess, I will cheer On thy battle's brave discord. Naoise, let me have your sword. NAOISE: Here it leaps from out Its sheath. Bless it — warm it with your breath. DEIRDRE: Sword of splendor, swiftness, might, Keep my lover well to-night. With embraces I caress, With my kisses I you bless. Oh, thou sharp and gleaming steel. Feel my heart, my bosom feel. All the strength I have to aid I invoke on thee, oh, blade! Keep my lover well to-night, Sword of splendor, swiftness, might! A 7ioise of bolts drawn and door opening is heard below. NAOISE: What's that? My sword! The foel Farewell! Re-enter Lavarcam hurriedly. LAVARCAM: Naoise, guard thee! Opens hell! NAOISE: Wakes Conor from his revel swoon? LAVARCAM: He is arming, coming soon. Hear, my children! When I told Him that Deirdre had grown old, Wan and faded, all his fire Dulled — his blood did make retire. Yawning, turned he to the feast, And the thought of her dismissed. By and by doubts rose. Said one: Send a spy. The thing was done. 77 Very soon returned the spy, Bleeding, blinded, maugre eye. But with cry of wonder keen, As the woman he had seen. Gorgeous, glowing, garlanded, Rose wrought flesh and rose crowned head. "Ah," he swore, " 'twas worth an eye To see such piece of witchery; And a King his kingdom might Give to own her for a night." Raging, flaming, Conor rose. Cursed me for his foe of foes. Called for arms. The warriors, too. Armed them, rushing to and fro. Soon about the house they'll hem. NAOISE: Well, I go to welcome them. Exit. DEIRDRE: What to do, Lavarcam, dear. Now the tempest circles near? LAVARCAM: Wait, as waits the gambler's stake. Till the last throw sure does make — Who does own it? DEIRDRE: If that throw is for Conor, then I know Well enough what must I do. LAVARCAM: What dost mean? DEIRDRE: Hast thou forgot The man-hounds? LAVARCAM: The drug hast got? DEIRDRE: In my bosom, precious thing. Past all this apparelling. LAVARCAM: Violence won thee— violence ends. DEIRDRE: Dear, my nurse, again be friends! Seat thee on this hollow chair. Sit and stroke again my hair. Thy fondling of my maidenhood More than man's caress was good. 78 LAVARCAM: All the glorious things of earth Are ill-omened from their birth; Stars strike at them, and the gods Punish them with envious rods. Evanescent — a cloud's mood — Must be thy glow of womanhood. DEIRDRE: Clank of armor, heavy treadi Hark, the foe is mustered! Noise of men gathering. Then the clear voice of Conor comes from without. CONOR (without): Open there! The doors wide fling! Open unto Ulster's King! NAOISE (below): Doors are deaf and men deny Ever a base plotter's cry. CONOR (without): Die, then, thou revolted thief, Robber of thy kingly chief. On, Knights! Break the door! Kill all Save the woman in this hall! Noise of l)reaking timbers, hurtling of mis- siles, clashing of swords and armor, cries of wounded. DEIRDRE: Mounts my soul up, bound on bound On the music of this sound; Shouts of hatred, stern reply! Sing the spears, the arrows fly. Whizzing, whistling! Whirl the swords Crashing thro' the armor guards. Strike, oh, Ardan! Ainle, strike! Irloth, Ulric, bear up like Sons of your great warrior sire! Rage, my Naoise, like a fire NAOISE (below): We win, Deirdre. Baffled, they Draw back from the stags at bay. DEIRDRE: I must aid them, serve them, who Shield me from the fatal blow. Here is wine. I go, to wait On the guests within my gate. 79 She takes up a salver with wine and gohlets and descends the stairway. LAVARCAM: Dogs are many, stags are few! Conor's drunk and bloody crew Most prevail. Oh, Conall, rise To prevent this sacrifice! Fergus, haste! Cuchulain, burn Air before thee in return. Midnight hours be lightning drawn! Succor comes in with the dawn. AINLE (below): Health to Lady Deirdre. IRLOTH (below): Health, Life and love and rule and wealth. NAOISE (below): Deirdre, back, some missle may, Chance sent, find thee in its way. DEIRDRE (below): All my honor, reverence, love, With you, warriors, fighting, move. She ascends the stairs reluctantly, listening to the combat, which begins again. CONOR (without): Men of Ulster, will ye let Three swords balk you and defeat? IRLOTH (below): Count us, Conor. Fergus' pride, Fergus, unto whom you lied. CONOR: On, in nobles! He who turns Takes from me the death he earns. The conflict is renewed with redoubled fury. DEIRDRE: Stoop! Descend, oh. Victory! We are all too young to die. See, Lavarcam, all the days Of the future burn and blaze , There before me. They defile Like an army, mile on mile, Captained by the glittering years. Bearing on their pennoned spears Gifts for me and for my love; They are thick as is a grove, Blossoming, fragrant. First they bear Love's rich trophies for a pair, Young and innocent and good; Then the joys of motherhood. Children smile to me and nod Down the long drawn period. Then comes honors, wreaths and crown. All the tribute of renown; Wealth pours out its varied store; Wisdom's dreams grow more and more; And the long procession ends With a quiet train of friends. This may be — and this must be. Grant it, grant it. Victory! Re-enter Irloth, sioord in hand and stagger- ing. Ha! art hurt? Art wounded? Lean On my arm. IRLOTH: A scratch, I ween. DEIRDRE: Water, cloths, Lavarcam, find. Exit Lavarcam into an inner room. Here, thou nestling of the wind. My young eagle, seat thee. Troth I'll thy leech and nurse be, both. Gapes thy helm and neath it there, Furrows forehead, furrows hair, A red path. It is not deep. Nothing worse for it, thou'lt sleep. Re-enter Lavarcam with a 'basin of water and some linen. Good, the water. Gently, so; Do I hurt thee? IRLOTH: Lady, no. I am in a pleasant dream. DEIRDRE: Broken heads are a poor theme For a vision. Bandages Now apply I. Do they press Somewhat tightly? 81 IRLOTH: No; I think, Oh, what joy, so near to drink In thy beauty. DEIRDRE: Pish! my dear. Now, then, rest thee, slumber here. IRLOTH: Rest me, while the warriors beat Almost up unto thy feet? Rest me while my comrades wroth Keep the gateway? Rest in sloth? No, divine one, see I go Forth, I rush upon the foe. He descends the stairway. LAVARCAM: Short his life, poor one, will be. Better than long agony. DEIRDRE: No, they win, they win for me. A great crash is heard 'below — the door is broken in. Tumult and clash of arms and armor. NAOISE (below): To the stairs. I'll hold them back. They're too crowded to attack. CONOR( below): On, oh. Knights and overwhelm This sole rebel of the realm, NAOISE (below): Come thyself, O Conor. Here Stands the bridegroom of thy Fear. Ha! Munremer, that for thee! Down thy throat thy loyalty Push I, Celtchair, thro' thy guard — Conor pays thee thy reward. Ardan and Ainle appear at the head of the stairs, taking their stand on either side of it. AINLE: Up, oh, Naoise, we are set. NAOISE: Springing up the stairs and standing between them. All the force of Ulster met, Can this vantage fort but threat Where such weapons, thrusting, crown? AINLE: Irloth's down and Ulric's down! NAOISE: Thirty warriors do they have As their escort to the grave. See, our foemen hesitate, Crowding back unto the gate. AINLE: Conor comes on, great and grim, I will try a shaft at him. NAOISE: Missed thou hast. But Owen Mor Rolls there grasping at the floor. CONOR (below): Will you let me, all alone, Force this fort of the o'erthrown? Who with me the stairs will try? SEVERAL VOICES (below): I will— I— and I— and I. NAOISE: They are coming. Brothers, shout! Let our battle cry ring out. DEIRDRE: Taking a harp doivn from the wall and strik- ing its chords. Ardan, Ardan, wind that blows Down the forest of thy foes: Ainle, Ainle, lightning flame Lunging, plunging thro' the same; Naoise, Naoise, thunder roll Bursting, deafening on the soul Of the perjured, plotter King; I thy names to battle fling; Fame shall praise, far futures sing! Blaze terrific in your wrath. Blocking all the battle path; Blaze ye shapes of horrid fear To the foul King who is near: I a vision saw last night. Saw four stars whose glowing flight Long was halted, long delayed, Tangled in the twilight braid Just above the ocean marge; On a sudden they grew large. They did mount and they did rise To the forefront of the skies, Van of all the fiery host, Blazing out like suns, almost. This our omen, these our stars! Ye shall live for other wars. Naoise, Ainle, Ardan — charms Aid the valor of your arms. CONOR (below): That's the voice of her who wrought All division in my court; That's the witch from me has flown. Comrades, come, I claim my own. The Ultonians rush up the stairivay, but are met and rolled hack by the three defenders. NAOISE: Five are down and three are sped: Conor self were with the dead. Save his slipping feet afford Mercy from my conquering sword. DEIRDRE: Striking the harp. Laugh, oh. Alba, wreathed in smiles! Eagles gathering from thy isles, From thy bare and austere crags. Swoop upon the foe who flags. See the now transfigured brave, They have won and me they save; And the felon King they send Flying to his fitting end. Death to him and to his name. Honor and eternal fame Be upon you, brothers three. The betrothed of Victory! NAOISE: Where is Conor? He is gone, And the Knights rush here and yon. See, the torches down they tear Burning in the sconces there; To the timbers and the walls They apply them. Crackling crawls 84 Flames along the window eaves, And the thin smoke writhes and weaves; Worse than weapons, worse than war! Form we men as once before, Form with Deirdre in our mid; We with whirling swords can thrid Thro' the thinned field of our foes. Ready — down the phalanx goes! CONOR (below): Dash those fires out! I proclaim Truce. To weigh our equal blame And to judge us, Cathba comes. Cathba, worker at Fate's looms, Prescient seer of mortal dooms. VOICES (below): Hail, oh, Cathba! Cathba hall! ARDAN: Shall we let this prophet pale Enter to us? AINLE: Ah, we must Vain is sword stroke, or spear thrust 'Gainst the Druid lord of charms. Cathba mounts the stairway. NAOISE: Lower, brothers, lower arms. Let the priest In thro' our fence. Thro' our useless cirque of sense. Enter Cathha. Take, oh, seer, our reverence. CATHBA: Heirs of Usnach's glorious race, Great of mould and fair of face; Woman of immortal charms, Whom I last saw babe in arms, Let this strife and slaughter cease; Let unfold the wings of peace. Ye are safe until your friends Gather here from Ulster's ends. Judgment fair shall then be heard, I have Conor's oath-clinched word. NAOISE: Never will be drop our swords, Till a stronger pledge affords; Until Fergus home does ride; Till Cuchulain by our side Fronts the King with fiercer pride. We had Conor's word before; False were all the oaths he swore. CATHBA: Then it must be I proceed, Tho' reluctant is the deed; But this direful dream of death, Cries the vulture harkeneth, Brother, brother striking down. And Emania's walled town Grown a charnel house of woe. This must end; I will it so! Listen — hear ye not that sound Thunder the horizon round? Now the rain begins to fall — Thicker, faster, fiercer — all The thick piled clouds in flood Emptied on the earth below. Now the river leaps its banks. The waves rush in levelling ranks Over meadow, over wood Comes the sudden whelming flood; Trees and timbers on it borne, Houses levelled, cities gone. See, it surges to our feet! Now the tide the knee does meet; Rises it unto the throat; We are lifted, are afloat; Swim, oh, heroes, ere ye be Borne out to the raging sea! Help, oh, heroes, Deirdre drowns! The Jieroes listen in stupefaction at first. At the final adjuration they drop their weapons and strike out as if swimming. Naoise and Ardan seize Deirdre's hands to support her. Conor and the Ultonians creep up the stairway and seize and Mnd the defenseless warriors. Conor, smooth thy deadly frowns. My part ends; but here I stand For their safety fronn thy hand. CONOR: Thy part ends, but opens mine, Part of brooding, deep design. Irretrievable, their doom Instant, imminent does come. Slay them, nobles, where they are! Slay these rebel lords of war! Naoise, Ardan and Ainle are stricken down hy the knights. Their bodies roll dead on the floor. Deirdre wakes from her stupor, utters a shriek and throws herself upon them. CATHBA: Horrible! It sears my sight Like the fire-bolt's blasting flight. Three great trunks that high did tower Over Erin in their power. Struck down. And that woman flower Who grew on them crawling still O'er their prostrate forms at will, Dabbling in their foaming blood, Babbling words not understood, Kissing, lapping with her tongue Those red blazoned faces young. Oh, the terror! I grow cold! I am weary, I am old! DEIRDRE: Naoise, wake! The morning breaks, Fall the sunlight's fiery flakes On your body. What, dost sleep? Tired from vigil thou didst keep? And my brothers slumber on — They are weary and outworn. And my wandering fingers show The red dew that wets each brow. Naoise, if thou wilt not wake All my kisses thou must take; Thou must fold me in thy arms, Safe, oh, safe from mortal harms. 87 CATHBA: Monster of an iron heart, Conor, do the tears not start Even from thy cruel eyes. At this piteous sacrifice. Thou accursed art for aye; Thou art banned by human cry; Thee the elements abhor; Thee the sun does shudder for; Water draws back from thy hand; Earth does groan 'neath thy command; Air itself in clouds does hood; Only fire shall find thee good. Thou art Conor — thou art King; But I curse thee for this thing. Thou mayst live and thou mayst reign, But thy days are days of pain, And thy troubled nights shall have Ghosts thick coming till thou rave. Thou mayst reign and thou mayst live, But thou Shalt be fugitive; Thou Shalt see Emania's wall Blazing flame and darkened fall! Thou mayst reign, but here shalt none Of thy body mount the throne. Blotted from the book of Fate Shall be all thy name and state. Save the bards with hissing verse May thy infamies rehearse. Faithless thou, again, again — Slayer of defenseless men, Maddener of this piteous thing, All my scorn unto thee cling! A clatter of horses has heen heard without. Fergus and his retainers ascend the stairway. FERGUS: What means this? CATHBA: Oh, Fergus, see Conor's deed of butchery! And thy two sons they lie dead Where thy foot but now did tread. FERGUS: Feared I some such deed designed. Dreadful thoughts beat on my mind As my horses hurried on. So — my — sons — my props are gone; And these noble gentlemen, Lured by me to butchers' den — In their crimson drapery sleep, And this woman lives to weep. Useless grief and useless words — Nothing answers here but swords, And these wait yet. Conor, I Break my troth and fealty. When my boys again shall come To their desolated home. When these heroes shall arise Me to greet with gracious eyes, I'll forgive you. Until when War defiance take thou. Men Who have seen this hideous act. Or have trailed behind the fact. Choose ye which to follow now. Him or me. If me, you vow Vengeance on this craven King— And, retreating with me, form Nucleus of a mighty storm. Needs no words, but silently Range yourselves with him or me. A dozen of the knights range themselves with Fergus. The remainder cluster behind Conor. Farewell, Conor. Thou hast wrought Deeds of evil — evil fraught. Ulster In succeeding days From thy act shall break ablaze. CONOR: Who has been leaning on his sword, listening. Hold! The King disdains reply; Strength is its own warranty; But the comrade, but the friend, Hears these outcries that ascend. Think, oh, Cathba. Fergus, think! When that woman, from the brink Of the unknown, tumbled in To our turbid world of sin, Rosy infant — laughing child, Stainless, sinless, undefiled. Thou, oh, Cathba, wrought Doom's wreath For her forehead. Thou her death, Fergus, didst demand, decree; She had died except for me. Her I kept from those who cursed Nobly rescued, nobly nursed. 'Twas my power, 'twas my gold, Made the woman flower unfold; By my generous care designed Grew her mould and grew her mind; Yet I held her sacred, shrined. Like an idol, worshipped — till She should take me of her will — Then came on that blackest night. Came the falling off and flight Of the youths my love had made Foremost in their warrior trade; Came descent to common lure Of the thing I kept so pure — "Tower, nor wall, nor Conor's arms Kept," cried men, "his queen of charms." Well I kept my head and crown. And I laughed the laughers down. But dost think I did not brood O'er the huge ingratitude? What are pledges, what are oaths To the man who loves and loathes As I did? Those men must die Who brought scorn on majesty; 90 And that woman whom I made, She shall ply for me her trade, Serve my hours of lust and ease With her practiced offices. Draw your men off if you will, Fergus, Cathba, prate of ill; But this woman at last is mine. Deirdre, wake. These dead resign! DEIRDRE: She starts up and confronts Conor. Her face and arms and dress are streaked with blood. They are dead, are dead, are dead! All my woes remembered Bui'st upon me. Thou the King, Conor, art. About me ring Voices of my deadly foes. Ah, none other live than those. Conor calls me to his side, Conor courts me for a bride! Wouldst thou, Conor, from this mouth, Dabbled with the blood of youth. Take the challenges that move All the rising tide of love? Wouldst thou have these arms that are Fit for ensigns of red war. Round thee in thy naked bed? I belong unto the dead! Listen, Conor: From the first Felt I thee a thing accursed; Thro' me ran a shivering thrill When drew near thy form of ill; Still I shuddered at thy touch, Tho' I schooled me overmuch; Like a bird I sought my mate. Flew 1 forth from out thy gate; Got and gave a glorious joy With my wondrous warrior boy — Thee again I stand before; But I tremble, thrill, no more! 91 From the fear I am exempt. Hatred left is, and contempt For thee, for the world that has Living thing In it so base; For the sun and stars that brook On a snake like thee to look; From all such I will withdrav/ To the worlds of other law. Look, oh, King — rememberest How thy manhounds sank to rest? What their mighty frames could still, Will my frailer forces kill. I drink to thee — on the floor Dash the cup — shall pledge no more. She drinks the poison and throws the vial from her to the ground. Off! I claim a sovereign's right. I am bride of Death to-night. Give me leave to seat me here On this throne of force and fear. Off! Ends my concern or strife With the false designs of life! She seats herself hy the dead bodies. Oh, my husband! Oh, my lords, Life no fitting time affords Me to deck you for the grave! I would have you rich and brave. Cleanly, newly garmented, And with flowers upon you shed. Take these roses from my hair; These that did my bosom share; These for funeral favors wear — Ha, thro' all my body rolled Goes a tremor! I grow cold. Ha, again on Mona's rill Moonlight slumbers, slumbers still! Ha, the hunt in Alba's on! Thro' the night glades we are gone — Bay the dogs, the crashing stag Falls to knee — his forces flag; Ainle treads the moonlit path, Ardan bursts thro' woods in wrath; Naoise with me hand in hand Lightly runs along the land: Now he leaves me — he does stand There beside our woodland home — Oh, my love, I come — I come! FERGUS: It is ended. Wheel, my men! Conor, when we come again Look to see a gloomier pall Than broods o'er this funeral. 93 PERSONiE IV.eve. Cuchulain. Fergus. Oilioll. Magach. Niall. Owen Mor. Feralad. uonloach. Fiercetne. FInrhin. Conor. Conail. Sencha. Amargin. Mac Roth. Laeg. Donal Roe. Finnabra. Feithlinn. Knights, Soldiers, etc. MEVE 8CENE 1. A rocky plain. Night. An outpost of Meve's army, consisting of three soldiers, ivho sit or stand heside a camp fire. FIRST SOLDIER: Whew, the fog chills! SECOND SOLDIER: Thro' and thro'. THIRD SOLDIER: From what quarter, friends, are you? FIRST SOLDIER: Leinster I, the Maines band. SECOND SOLDIER: My home is in Meve's own land. THIRD SOLDIER: From the South! Ye do not know Aught of fog, or rain, or snow: We of Ulster often sleep Where the snow is seven feet deep. FIRST SOLDIER: You are one of Fergus' men. THIRD SOLDIER: Yes, an exile come again Into Ulster. FIRST SOLDIER: Well Meve has Such great allies. All our race, All the men of Erin most Are concentrated in her host. THIRD SOLDIER: What's the quarrel? SECOND SOLDIER: Hast not heard? THIRD SOLDIER: No! I flew here like a bird Out of Britain, no war word — Scent of plunder in me stirred. 97 SECOND SOLDIER: Hast not heard of the Dun Bull? Meve, you know, is masterful — Woman grafted upon man, Woman on a warrior plan; And her husband, Oilioll, is But a thing of superfice. Outward Kinglike, inward fool. With blood running tame and cool. Late they quarreled as to which Was best fortuned, was most rich. So they numbered all their goods, Jewels, silver, gold, in floods; Bracelets, toques, tiaras, rings, All the panoply of Kings; Armor, horses, lands and kine; Orchards, herds of sheep and swine, And assessed them. Each made good; Equal poised the balance stood, Save that Oilioll had a Bull, A white creature, wonderful. With which Meve could nothing show: She had heard that Dare, though. There in Ulster, a Bull had Larger, mightier. Straight she bade Ten of her best courtiers go And ask it of him, offering so A hundred heifers in exchange. Dare did the trade arrange; But one drunk ambassador Swore 'twas well he yielded, or They had seized it. Dare then Turned, threatening from his house, the men; Hence Meve's anger. Dun Bull bent Hence this mighty armament. THIRD SOLDIER: 'Tis all one to us, when we Plunder can in plenty see. FIRST SOLDIER: Rich is Ulster? THIRD SOLDIER: 'Tis a land Dropping fatness. At command We'll have corn and milk and wine; Beeves too fat to run, and swine Almost ready cooked. FIRST SOLDIER: I'd drive A herd of them away alive. SECOND SOLDIER: With my queen I would com- pare! Bull and 'heifers for my share. THIRD SOLDIER: Pish! You're low In your intents. Everywhere gold ornaments Are in Ulster — pearl and gem; And white women who wear them — These my choice. FIRST SOLDIER: I say, the night Drags out dull and infinite. By the fire here let us dice. He who gains the earliest prize, Be it woman, bracelet, cow, Unto him of highest throw Yields it. He the thing shall win. THIRD SOLDIER: By the fire the game begin. They bend over the ground in the firelight to their game. As they do so an arrow crashes thro' one of them and he falls forward on his face. The others spring up, and a second arrow takes one in the throat and he falls backward dead. The third soldier turns to flee, but as he does so he is confronted by the figure of Cuchu- lain, who cuts him doivn with his sword. THIRD SOLDIER: The foe! We are taken! A sur- prise! Dies. CUCHULAIN: Lie there, thou traitor thing of lies! These the first dead of the war, First flights of migration are. L.wiQ. Go they to the gods' abodes, With the rumor that the roads Thereto shall be choked with ghosts, Dismal dreams of marching hosts. Go they heralds to prepare For Meve's hordes that downward fare. Oh, the glorious hour of Fate! I stand here against a state. Only now I looked adown From a mountains' summit crown, Saw the infinite array Of Meve's camp fires stretch away; Like the belting Autumn blaze Darting red and golden rays; Like to fallen stars of night Centred in a city bright; Like the populace of waves Foaming crested o'er their graves. On the other side the scene The dark slopes of Ulster lean. Not a moving light, or still, On the dusk of vale and hill; Nor a gleam of lance or sword Coming to defend the ford; Not a whisper, murmur, sound Of muster the horizon round. Conor in Emania lies Sick with dreadful phantasies, Thing of fever and of fears; Deirdre's wailing figure rears Nightly by his stricken bed; Sencha is to Alba sped; Conall, dreaming in the North, Drinks, forgetting faith and troth; All the champions scattered are: None is left to make the war But myself. 'Tis well! In wrath Stand I on an army's path. Every lurking place to hide Know I of this country side; 100 Every bush and rock and tree Is a covert unto me; I in darkest night will thread Under, round them, overhead; Slay Meve's outposts, pierce her bands, Wage a war with my two hands. All the strength to which I've grown, All the skill my mind has known. All my dreams of earliest youth, Manhood's purpose, faith and truth, Every star ray searching sent To my soul; each element That has gone to build my form, Gathers to me in one storm. As a lion leaping flings On a herd of huddled things; As an eagle darting goes On a scattered field of crows; As the sun with shafts of light Bursts the clouds that check Its flight; So I leap and dart and flame. Now to leave my single name Signed to this assize of death! Ho, Laeg, when thou listeneth. Bring me parchment, bring me pen! Enter Laeg, the charioteer, from the rear. Cuchulain writes. So I tie it to this spear Which I set a-quiver here. Who shall come, who shall read. Know the warrior with his deed! On, Laeg, to the next patrol — This night's work shall shake Meve's soul. They go out and the wheels of a chariot are heard moving off. The fire flickers out and the fog settles densely over the scene. Then an- other chariot is heard approaching, and Meve enters, driving alone. She is clad in complete armor. 101 MEVE: "Whosoever not returns Thou returnest." The word burns In my mind. But, pshaw! More clear Than the dreams of Druid seer Are my plans. The Ulster land Open lies at my command. Conor's sick and Conall's far; Scattered are their flocks of war. I have but to move — and all Ulster's walls before me fall. Say, thou shape, what being art, Riding here on my war cart? Feithlinn rises up 'before Meve on the pole of her chariot. Splendor of the stranger folk Rising up on my cart's yoke, Robed in speckled coat of green, Where gold ornaments are seen; All the red and white of youth In thy face; and thy red mouth Parting on two rows of pearls. Who art thou, thou queen of girls? Ha! the whiteness of thy skin Gleams like snow thy meshed robe in; Two locks of thy gold hair show Crownlike bound around thy brow, And a tnird descends to meet Thy gold ankles and thy feet. With a bronze sword thy hand weaves Broidery of Autumn leaves From thy balls of russet, red, In thy girdle there bestead. What dost make? What dost do? FEITHLINN: I thy fate and future show. MEVE: Dost thou know me — know my name? FEITHLINN: Thou art Meve. Behind thee flame All the men of Erin — come For the downfall of my home. MEVE: Name and lineage hast thyself? 102 FEITHLINN: I am Feithlinn— fairy elf, Prophetess of magic cry. IviEVE: Well, what dost thou prophesy? Seest the hosts I have here led? FEITHLINN: I see crimson, I see red! MEVE: Conor keeps his fevered bed; There is nothing I need dread. My hosts soon in whelming wave Sweep the land — there's none to save. FEITHLINN: I see crimson. I see red! IVIEVE: Conall with a wife new wed Keeps his station in the North — Fergus marches with me forth. There is nothing I need dread. FEITHLINN: I see crimson, I see red! MEVE: Celtchar's dying, rie Is dead. Owen Mor revolted lies In the mountain's fastnesses. I dread nothing. But speak truth, Prophetess of kissing mouth. FEITHLINN: I see crimson, I see red! Over all thy hosts, war led. Weave I glamor from the gleams Of the hawthorn caught moonbeams; Weave I web of morning dew; Glassy waters weave I too; And my woven net is cast Over all the world thou hast; Thro' it I see true, see deep. Things that in the future sleep. Thy camp fires the hillsides parch; All the men of Erin march At thy bidding — but shall rise Soon to shake them — a surprise. Hero of a heavenly birth. Warrior exercised on earth, As a gaunt wolf, circling, takes Toll of flock that huddling shakes; 103 As a wheeling thunder gust From all quarters smites the dust; As the ocean tumbling tide Eats away an island's pride; He around thy hosts shall wreathe Garlands of encrimsoned death. He shall slay men as they sleep; Smite them while a watch they keep; Ere the rattle of his arms The awakened ear alarms, Swift shall fall the barbed harms. He shall pierce around thy tents, Ranging thro' thy armaments; Day shall cover, night conceal. That swift moving tower of steel. Death shall shake thee and dismay Fall on all thy disarray; Till thy bands with warlike notes Fly at one another's throats. He shall with his single sword Keep the Passage of the Ford. None shall pass to Ulster's bound. None my country's glory wound, Till the legions of the North Gather, muster, issue forth; Till the final battle comes That shall roll back to their homes All thy shattered armament, Broken, beaten, flying sent. MEVE: Silence, thing of evil tongue; Cease thy treason prophet sung! Out my sword leaps from its sheath; Thou Shalt go before to death. If his name thou dost not yield Who does use thee as his shield. FEITHLINN: Comes Cuchulain, clothed in dread! Over all thy hosts war led I see crimson; I see red! 104 FeithUnn leaps from the chariot and disap- pears. The fog lifts and the fire burns brightly, revealing the bodies of the dead soldiers. MEVE: Ha! my sentinels; do they keep Watch for me in snoring sleep? She springs from her chariot and goes over to them. Dead. And sets the crimson tide, Druid, Fairy prophesied? What is this? A name is writ Here: Cuchulain! Death to it! Horror! Horror! I must fly! On, on, horses! Help is nigh. She drives off furiously. SCENE 2. Meve's tent. Silken curtains at the side sep- arate it from an inner apartment. Meve, Oilioll, Fergus. Early morning. MEVE: What can one man? FERGUS: With some right I may speak of border fight. I have ravaged Conor's lands, Burned Emania that new stands, But If it is true that forth Comes Cuchulain, battle wroth, Tho' his watch fire burns alone 'Gainst the myriads of our own, I have mind to draw me back With my exiles from this track. 105 MEVE: Thou dost fear him? FERGUS: Fear him! No. I but once can deathward go. I a thousand times have thrown Dice with death for what I own, But none save a fool contends With a god on whom descends Genius without bounds or ends. MEVE: He is mortal; may be met, FERGUS: Man nor men have done it yet. MEVE: I shall match him. If my brood Of warriors in their multitude Cannot overwhelm one blade, I, a woman, war arrayed. Will his sword cross — unafraid. OILIOLL: That for me, Meve. 'Tis my part. MEVE: Thou! Ye gods, what thing thou art 'Gainst a mighty foe to send! Thy gifts do begin and end In curled hair and beauteous face, In thy soft limbs' pliant grace. Nothing, nothing dost thou know Of the soul's heroic glow. Thou art good with horses, dogs; Good at amorous dialogues With my women; but a sword, Naked in an angry ward. Sends thee shivering to thy bed. OILIOLL: Thou'rt too stern, too hard, too dread. I've some rights, Meve. I'm thy lord. And I know to use a sword. MEVE: Women are what men permit. Hens crow when the roosters sit On the nests. FERGUS: Pardon. I must Hurriedly hence. This matter trust To my vigilance. Enter Mac Roth. 106 MAC ROTH: I bring Tidings of an evil ring. IVIEVE: Blurt them out, man. MAC ROTH: Half it fears Me to pour them in your ears. MEVE: Used our ears are to affray. They have heard somewhat, man; the way To begin is to wade in. MAC ROTH: Messengers come thick and fast From the outposts that were cast All about the host last night, In order with their fires alight. Half this watch ring circular Blackly gapes. The sentinels are Dead beside their blotted fires; Some together piled in pyres; Scattered some about the ground; Some killed sitting, as no sound. Presage knew they; more as tho' Facing an invisible foe; Others as tho' ta'en in flight; Shafts — shafts sent with matchless might Slew the most of them, but some Took a massy spearhead home; And gaping helms and shattered shields Show a sword path thro' those fields. MEVE: Sign or signal is, whose power Swept around us in that hour? MAC ROTH: Yes. Beside each fire, a spear Stuck, aye, rooted, in earth there Bears a message — bears a name! MEVE: 'TIs Cuchulain! MAC ROTH: Aye, the same. And that makes the more dismay. All the camp boils, and men say If one warrior — only one — Where we looked for struggle none, 107 Can do thus — can sweep us hence Like a moving pestilence, What will come when all the North Rises, maddened — issues forth. MEVE: Silence, babblers; crowds disperse; Let armed guards the camp traverse; Double the outposts day and night; Go — and stay this senseless fright! Exit Mac Roth. FERGUS: And I, too, will go and try Calm the panic soldiery. MEVE: Thou wilt not desert us? FERGUS: No! I am entered and will go On as far as others do. Exit Fergus. MEVE: Would that I my flight had flown, Like Cuchulain, all alone! But a woman needeth tools, And the senseless blocks and fools Turn against me in my hand. Will not answer to command. Re-enter Mac Roth. What makest here? The cry abates! MAC ROTH: Magach, King of Munster, waits! MEVE: Ha! the blusterer. Let him in. Exit Mac Roth. Ollioll, leave me. I must win This man with what plots I may. Thy dullness is but in the way. OILIOLL: I could plot, too, were I tried. Exit. MEVE: Munster must not leave my side. Near a fourth of all my host Marches with him. Enter Magach. 108 Fair accost. Generous love to Munster's King. MAGACH: Madam, this late happened thing Stirs me not, except to think What do I here on the brink Of a war with Ulster. I 'Gainst Conor have no enmity; Nor, need say I, no concern For the Bull for which you yearn. So in civil mood I come This to say — that I march home. MEVE: Warrior, Munster's overlord. Wilt withdraw thy mighty sword From a woman in her need? Firm I stand; but thou, indeed, Art the sure prop of my hope. Who with thee can think to cope? Not this night marauding thief — Shake thy sword, resistless chief, And he slinks unto his den. MAGACH: That is well enough; but men Fight for profit. I can see Nothing in this war for me. MEVE: Wilt thou listen? Connacht's line Joined in Oiloill's and in mine Ends, save for a daughter. MAGACH: How Does that to the purpose show? MEVE: Finnabra is counted fair! MAGACH: I've not seen her. MEVE: Well, compare Her with maidens you have seen. Meve opens a little the curtains of the inner apartment and motions Magach to look within. Sleeps the bud yet in the green. MAGACH: Gods, the maid is fair indeed; A pearl peeping from seaweed. 109 Her white, rounded arm does seek The white roundness of her cheek, And beneath the coverlid Swell and fall the mounds there hid. MEVE: Thou has seen enough. Declare, Wilt to Connacht be the heir? MAGACH: Aye, and fight unto the death But to feel tnat maiden breath. MEVE: You shall have her. But hark ye, inviolable secrecy You must keep! Else all the rest, Jealous, will break up our quest. MAGACH: Not one syllable, one word, Ever from me shall be heard Till our conquest's o'er and done. MEVE: Go, then. Go, my noble son, Quiet thy array. Compel Peace within the camp to dwell. MAGACH: Order! I will execute. Exit. MEVE: Oh, the tusked and grunting brute! Finnabra is not for him. But my way is tangled, dim. Druid seer may hint defeat. Fairy prophetess repeat Songs of triumph for my foe; Backward I will never go; I will win my way thro' woe. Enter Mac Roth. NIall, Prince of Leinster, waits! MEVE: How they throng about our gates! Let him enter. Exit Mac Roth. This is one With mind wily as my own. Enter Niall. Welcome, Prince cf Leinster, here. 110 NIALL: Lady! Mighty Queen! I fear I unwelcome tidings bear. Messengers from mine own court, Messages of grave import, Draw me backward. Mucii I grieve I your conquering fiost must leave. MEVE: Hast thou heard the night news? NIALL: Some Bruit unto my ear did come Of night foray — skirmish, raid. That is nothing. MEVE: Must you go? NIALL: In my absence there is show Of a gathering of revolt. I must like a thunderbolt Fall upon it. MEVE: Out, alas! Things untimely come to pass. Only late my consort King, Oiloill, spake about a thing In your interest. NIALL: Ah! And what? MEVE: He was talking, planning not. Dreaming half, as parents may, Of our daughter. I daresay You have seen her. NIALL: Finnabra, Dream of all that men call fair; With her sapphire eyes, whose blue Deepens, darkens to a hue Sea nor sky has match unto; With her head already crowned By the gold hair braided round. I have seen her. MEVE: Oiloill said Of this host we draw to head, Of its leaders come at call, Niall overtops them all. lU NIALL: He but flatters. MEVE: Vd not tell If I thought so. Were't not well, Niall, that our Kingdoms be Joined in marriage unity. NIALL: I am ready, willing, glad, If the girl's consent be had. MEVE: Thou shalt have her. But, beware, Not a whisper in the air Of our compact. Foes there are In our camp 'twould drive to war. NIALL: I'll be silent. May I see Finnabra? MEVE: She sleeps. Thou'rt free Of our court. NIALL: Well, I'll remain. MEVE: Thy unquiet soldiers rein. NIALL: I'll about it. Queen, farewell. Exit Niall. MEVE: Only he succeeds who bends Human means to human ends. Interest, vanity and lust — These the horses that I must Harness to my chariot's yoke. Warriors, Kings and common folk Whirled before them are as smoke Wreathing to what shape I please. While I rule them I'm at ease; And the hero who for fame Fights, or for his country's name, Him before me shall I puff Like the thistle's filmy stuff. As the frost breath's winged weights. Enter Mac Roth. MAC ROTH: Ferdiad, son of Daman, waits. MEVE: What! Him, too! Well, let him come. Exit Mac Roth. 112 This is one who seemed at home In an eyrie o'er the rest, And the soul within my breast Sank, half quelled, before his eyes. He's but one more to despise! Enter Ferdiad. Comest thou, warrior, to declare Thou hast errand other where? Comest to say the first war check . Send'st thee whirling down in wreck? Comest to say thy selfish sword, Loyal only to its lord. Fights for profit, plunder, place? Go, then. Rank thee with the base! FERDIAD: Madam, no! With loyal breath Sings my sword here in its sheath Names of thee and thine. I came To interpret its true flame, And a nearer charge to crave Round thy person. I would save Thee, and thy dear ones defend. MEVE: But thou art Cuchulain's friend! Schooled by Scathach at one time. Fledge flown from her nest at prime; Flying since then side by side, Equal poised in fame and pride. FERDIAD: We are fellows, we are friends; Near as string to bow it bends. I am like a shadow thrown At his feet by midday sun; Close and undivorced as Is her image in a glass. But a mightier impulse now Turns me to Cuchulain's foe; Mightier instinct, mightier need Here my errant footsteps lead. MEVE: Tell thy need, man. 113 FERDIAD: No, not yet. Wait till war's cloud featured threat Leaps to lightning, and 1 give Proof of what does in me live. MEVE: Waiting ever came too late. Lovest thou Finnabra? FERDIAD: Her state Awes me. And her beauty proud Lifts that mountain height to cloud. Beauty's mould and Honor's mind, In my heart's crypt, she's shrined. MEVE: Wilt fight for her? FERDIAD: Till I die. Hoping, hopeless, doubting, I Battle for the Queen, I own. MEVE: Thou shalt have her — thou alone. Enter Finnabra, timidly. See, the dove leaps from her nest As the hawk sweeps by in quest. Dusky night is not yet shaken From her hair, her eyes awaken Dull yet with their depths of dreams; Sweet and soft and kind she seem.s. Likest her, Ferdiad? FERDIAD: On my knee I pray to this divinity. MEVE: Thou shalt wed whoe'er not wives! So, your hands! I pledge your lives. With secret but most solemn oath I your maiden youth betroth. Silent, silent be your lips Till we break thro' war's eclipse! FERDIAD: Oh, my lady, my one love, I thy knight to battle move; I thy lover guard thy days Till more bright still thou shalt blaze; U4 I thy promised husband wait, Dreaming until opes joy's gate; I thy friend, whate'er betide, Leap at call unto thy side! MEVE: Go now, go. The girl is won! Exit Ferdiacl. FINNABRA: Oh, my mother! What hast done? MEVE: Pledged thee to a noble spouse — Pinned his valor to our house. FINNABRA: True! It is true! It is so! Nobly does this gentle show. If a year since I had had Such a lover I were glad; But to-day it cannot be. Seek him, mother. Say from me I was frightened, swept along By your vehemence so strong. Say I honor him, admire. Wish him wife of nobler fire Than poor me. With thanks, beside. Say I cannot be his bride. MEVE: Why not, bird with breast storm riven? FINNABRA: I am promised, pledged and given To another. MEVE: Thou'rt somewhat free With thy gifts. But who is he? F1NNA3RA: Owen Mor. MEVE: The Ulster chief! Rebel, outlaw, cattle thief; Conor's enemy, who comes From his secret mountain homes Down, indifferent which to strike — Ulster, Connaught — both alike. How didst thou, thou thing of milk, Kept in eiderdown and silk. Know this man of storm and war, And what dost admire him" for? 115 FINNABRA: He is mighty, he is sad; In the rags of fortune clad. But a year since we went forth To Emania — to the North; From the women o'er and o'er Heard I there of Owen Mor: Tales of daring, tales of wrath, Of the generous heart he hath; How by mandate of the King He was driven wandering; How unthought of he arose In the middle of his foes; How long sought for his strong hand Kept his head and kept his band; And these high recitals so Wrought upon me I would go Sleepless to my bed at night; Thence to pass in stillest flight To the platform by the wall Of the moonlit capital. There my being broke in words: "Go, ye visionary birds, Tell my love to Owen Mor! I my weary state deplore; I would trade my haunts of ease For his craggy fortresses; I his iron couch would share So his iron arms held me there." Rose a figure at my feet Clothed in armor, armed complete, Gray the eagle plumes he wore — "Lady, I am Owen Mor!" Oh, my mother! Can'st command In another hand my hand? Not while life does thro' me pour — I am wife of Owen Mor. MEVE: I am glad that I can trace More than Oiloill's form and face In thee — milk just tinct with blood; Thou hast something of my mood. U6 Canst thou to this warrior send? Can'st thou move him, can'st thou bend? FINNABRA: Swift a message I can send If thou wilt our love befriend. MEVE; Bid him draw his band anear; Bid him fearless enter here, With safe conduct thro' our camp; Bid the moth come to the lamp. Go, my daughter — daughter brave, Thou brave cPTildren, too, shalt have! SCENE 3. Cuchulain's camp. A little hollow in a thicket of trees and underbrush. A loophole at the rear looks, as from a height, out over Meve's camp. Laeg is 'busy grooming two great horses, a black and a gray. Cuchulain is seated at a rude table over the remnants of a meal. Arms and armor are hung on the trees about. CUCHULAIN: I am hungry, Laeg. LAEG: Eat. CUCHULAIN: I have eaten. Could repeat Thrice this meagre morsel meal. Thou art stone — thou dost not feel. LAEG: Stay thy hands from men, and set Beaver trap or salmon net! CUCHULAIN: Ha! the stag darts thro' the wood; Birds throng o'er in multitude; Fish in river or in lake From the waters flashing break; U7 Them the hunter does not note; There's a nobler game afoot. Hot the blood thro' him is sent, Wide his nostrils take the scent; Men in groups, battalions, lines, Warfare's marvelous designs. Are before him. And he falls Like an eagle from heaven's halls, Drives them to their tented walls. LAEG: Well, then, starve, if so ye list. CUCHULAIN: Thou art utter heartless. A voice is heard singing without. Hist! There's a singing note I know. 'Tis Feircetne. Laeg, go Thro' our labyrinth barriers, guide, Bring the bard here to my side. Exit Laeg. I am weary; I am tired! Save my soul's great signal fired. Blazes in me in new birth, I would sink here on the earth; I would sleep here and forget All the labor I am set. Twice six days of circling quest, Twice six nights that knew no rest, I have hung upon Meve's flanks, I have broke her mailed ranks. Arrows, spears and sword I've plied, Great stones from the mountain side Flung upon them. For our homes Men in piles, in hecatombs, Have I offered. As a storm Leaps upon the mists that form, Tears them, whirls them, drives them wide; As a scytheman in hfs pride Falls upon a field of corn, I have torn them — I alone! 118 But with Its own weight my frame Sinks — I ache — and maugre shame, All my soul cries out for sleep. Oh, how soon will Ulster leap Forth to aid me? I have done All that one man can alone. Enter Laeg and Feircetne. Ha! my poet. Thou at least Com'st to share the eagle's feast. FEIRCETNE: If those crumbs be all thou hast Poor enough is the repast. I bring better. Ope my bag! Round of beef and ham of stag, Pile of ash baked wheaten cakes, Sweet the hived insect makes, And a jar of generous wine; Now, my hero, you may dine! CUCHULAIN: Seat thee, Laeg. Fall to, man! Poet, chief of all thy clan. Pardon us our manners rude. We are starved — are weak for food. FEIRCETNE: Hail, Cuchulain, warrior, hail! I your ears ask for my tale. Use your teeth as best befits. This sole sword that by me sits I bring to you. But my wits Are a mightier armature. Thou to do and to endure Standest here. I, wandering far, Sing our Ulster into war. From each castle, from each court Bring I absolute report Of their wakening. They have shook Off the death trance that o'ertook Like a cloud, a mist that swims. All their senses, all their limbs, Celtchair rises from the dead; Conall leaves his new bride's bed; U9 Sencha comes the State to ward; Comes Amargin, poet lord; All his Druids Cathba calls; Standing on Emania's walls Scan they air's great armament, Stars and clouds. Each element Weigh they, reckon, scrutinize. Incantations, weirdly wise. Hurl they at the invading host. I have waked them, I can boast. And great Conor, when I came To his bed of fevered flame. Rose up and his great oath swore: "Vaulted heaven our heads bend o'er, Firm earth echoes to our feet. Moving waters round us fleet. But save heaven in showers of stars Fall; save earthquake shakes and mars Vale and mountain; save are sent Over our fast continent Ocean's blue wrought chariot waves, I will drive unto their graves All the hosts of Erin's men!" So, oh, warrior, rouse again! Hold the hosts of Meve at play Another and another day. Ulster with thy glory rings, I hear the Future's whisperings. Hero of the hero throng. Crowned with praise and crowned with song. Endless shall Cuchulain live O'er men merely fugitive! CUCHULAIN: Quick they come, or come too late; Sleep draws me with leaden weight. FEIRCETNE: Can'st thou not a little rest? Good thy guard, secure this nest. I could not retrace my path Thro' the thicket growing rath Where I entered. 120 CUCHULAIN: If I sleep, On the hosts of Meve will creep. FEIRCETNE: Moving over to the rear of the glade. Ha! thy windowed loophole shows All the forest of thy foes. Slope on slope they stretch away Infinite in their array — Like clouds fallen on a stream Rear the tents; the warriors gleam Like star patterns In between. Wave their crests, blue, white and green, And their glittering weapons dart Dazzling sun shafts. Meet and part Sentries; warriors walk and turn; Seems their faces I discern. Look, look, look, Cuchulain! There Comes a guest of nobler air. Like thine are his plumes of red; Like thine is his dress vested; Like thine, too, his lithe limbs grace, But his helmet hides his face. Stranger to that host he seems; Real shape In a realm of dreams; Blazing, sunlike, there amid Men to whom he yet is hid. None regards him, halts him, stays; Cleaves he straight thro' their arrays. Now he reaches to the ford. He is hidden. Dear, my lord, Laeg, thro' the thicket send. Guide this being, guide this friend! CUCHULAIN: Needs no mortal art to guide Mine own kinsfolk to my side. While the men of Ulster wait Comes a god from heaven's gate. Swiftly, with unfaltering pace Threads he thro' each secret place. 121 I can hear, amid the trees, The rustling of his draperies; I can feel his warmth draw near, See his glory. He is here! Enter Lugh. LAEG: 'Tis Cuchulain's self appears! FEIRCETNE: Or twin opposites earth bears, Or a ghost or wraith or god Brings wonder to a period! LUGH: Sleep, Feircetne, loya! friend! Laeg, sleep on thee descend! Feircetne and Laeg sink on the ground to slumJ}er. CUCHULAIN: Royal rival who hast on The earth weeds that I have worn — As in waters or on glass From me does my shadow pass — But more vivid, splendid, proud, With a vital force endowed. Unto which my soul is bowed. Fronting phantom! My heart warms! I would fold thee in my arms. Brother of an unknown birth, God descended to the earth, Whatsoe'er thou art, thou art Comrade of my loving heart. LUGH: To my arms, thou glorious boy! Not the first time this, in joy Held I thee in close embrace; Hung I gazing on thy face. CUCHULAIN: What dost mean? I know thee not. Ne'er have seen thee. Could time blot From my memory such a face — Myself in removed place? LUGH: Knowest thy father's name and race? CUCHULAIN: Men say that he was no man; One of the immortal clan, To Tuatha de Danaan. LUGH: List, Cuchulain! Erin had Once a maiden good and glad, Conor's sister, Dechtire. She From Emania, suddenly. With the maidens of the train, Vanished. Fifty seats remain Empty in the palace hall; Hears the hollow walls no call Cf young voices; sees no light Of girl torches blazing bright. So for three years. Then there came Birds rich plumaged, clad in flame, .Settling on Emania's fields. Ate they all the country yields; Corn and fruit and bladed grass. Hunters sought to make them pass; But their arrows hurtless fell. Airy, unassailable Were the flocks. Then Conor rose Conall, Fergus, 'gainst these foes; Drove their harnessed chariots out, Brandished weapons, uttered shout; But the birds in stately might Marshaled, wheeling south in flight; While the chariots underneath Followed on o'er plain and heath, Mountain track and river shore, Till a great mound reared before, Was no entrance, was no door; But the birds flew in, and in Some way did the warriors win. There was sunlight without sun. There were winds where air was none. Gleam of lakes, and ocean's girth In the bosom of the earth; And a royal palace there Reared its fabric frail, fair. On its porch a warrior stood: Met his guests in courteous mood. 123 "Ulster's warriors, Ulster's King Misses Ulster anything?" "Dechtire's self and Dechtlre's maids They have vanished to the shades." In I led them, where a-ring Fifty maids were gathering, And In midst, upon a throne, Dechtire sat, and not alone; For a boy upon her knee Gazed down on us royally. Gave I him to Conor then. "Take him back to earth again. Take, Cuchulain, take my son. Warrior he from Dreamland won." CUCHULAIN: Father, I in reverence bow. Touch my temples! Bless me thou! LUGH: I have stamped thy faultless frame, I have filled thy soul with flame. I remote, immortal, can Move not among men, a man; But in thee my shadow thrown May by men be seen and known; in the mould of flesh disguised Thou'rt my being realized; Thou art mine incarnate force. Moving thro' a mortal course. CUCHULAIN: But, my father, who art thou? Name and power and place avow! LUGH: Seest yon wheeling orb on high Moving thro' the midday sky. Whose swift arrows smite the earth, Breaking in immediate birth; Who in ocean's effluence shrouds, Piling the paviilioned clouds? That my dwelling, that my home. When I first on earth did come Upon Iran's high plateau. Where the mighty rivers flow, 124 I descended, reared my race, Worshippers of that pure blaze. Iran left I then awhile, Come to Eire's sacred isle. Sons successive, glorious, strong, Heirs of war and heirs of song, 'Mid degenerate men I cast. To uplift them. Thou the last! CUCHULAIN: Father, tho' immortal blood All my mortal veins may flood, I am broken with fatigue; Day by day and league on league With an army I have fought. Grant me respite. Let be wrought Miracle to hold yon host While I slumber at my post. LUGH: Glorious warrior thou shalt rest; For one day I take thy guest. For a day and for a night In thy form a god shall fight. Take thy spear! So! Lean on it! Sleep upon thine eyelids sit; Slumber thee enwrapping close Hold thee in thy warrior pose; From thy head unto thy feet Glow a recreative heat. Peaceful sleep! Refreshed awake When the sun again shall make Entrance on thy thicket close! Cuchulain sleeps on his spear. And I go to hunt thy foes. Exit. 125 SCENE 4- Before Meve's tent. The curtains are drawn and two sentinels pace up and down in front of it. A brilliant starlight night. FIRST SENTRY: Well! SECOND SENTRY: All's well! FIRST SENTRY: Hast tumult heard? SECOND SENTRY: Mils silent! Night's unstirred! FIRST SENTRY: Doche mac Magach scouts around All our tent besprinkled ground; With a mighty train of horse Draws his shield about our force. SECOND SENTRY: Ferdiad, with his foot guard, In thick circle, keeps a ward O'er the slumbers of the Queen. None can pierce our lines, I ween. FIRST SENTRY: Aye, the centre of the host Is to-night the safest post. Lugh enters unperceived. He carries a great bundle of heads which he deposits on the ground. As the sentinels turn to part, he comes between them, and grasping each one by the throat brings them noiselessly to the ground. Choking them into silence, he swiftly binds and gags them. He then lays the heads at their feet. LUGH: So I exercise my skill. So Cuchulain battles still. He turns, and with his sheathed sword strikes a ringing blow on the pole of the tent. So my visit I announce. Let those heads my name pronounce. Exit. 126 Enter Fercliad, ivith drawn sword. FERDIAD: What that sound? The sentries gone! What is this I stumble on? Men bound! Heads with blood yet damp! Lights there! Lights! Alarm the camp! Enter Fergus, half dressed. FERGUS: Ferdiad! Is that you? Some sound Startled me in slumber bound. FERDIAD: Lights! Get lights! Our mighty foe At the host's heart strikes his blow. Soldiers rush in with torches. The curtains of the tent are opened and Meve and Oilioll ap- pear, armed. MEVE: Tumult mine own tent before! FERGUS: Death has halted at thy door! MEVE: Are these men my sentinels? Loose, ungag them! Seven hells! Are my guard but willow wands, Thistle heads and grass blade hands? Let them have a lease of breath Ere they, too, shall go to death. FERGUS: They may make this challenge sure, The' we know the signature. Rise, men! Whence came this assault? FIRST SENTRY: Throwing himself at Meve's feet. Spare me, Queen! Thy judgment halt! SECOND SENTRY: I'll not kneel. 'Twas not my fault. MEVE: You, you, man, who stand erect, Say what blast of war has wrecked Pathway to our very feet, And these trophies flung to greet Our scarce sleep abandoned eyes? Speak the way of your surprise! 127 SECOND SENTRY: Thus it was: We two had met, And, half turned, were sidewise set, When a something with a bound Bore us noiseless to the ground. My throat in iron fingers pent Could no sound give. O'er me bent Glowed a face of sombre fire, Like a black cloud's lightning pyre. In the instant of attack We were pinnioned back to back. Gagged, trussed, ready for the spit. Then that face and form self-lit Leaped erect; cried out one word, Cried Cuchulain; with his sword Smote thy tent pole, smote with might, And then vanished in the night. MEVE: So! He visits at our tent! We'll return the compliment. All our guards, line after line, Circling, intricate design — Only serve to guide him straight, Safe, unto our threshold gate. Fergus name these heads. Red swath Fallen in Cuchulain's path. FERGUS: Bring the torches nearer. Lift Piece by piece this dreadful drift, Flung here by war's ravening wave. Cur mac Dalath, warrior brave. Thy forked beard I recognize, Tho' o'erdaubed with crimson dyes. Make thy entrance, make thy bow — We dismiss thee, warrior — go! Rise, historian of our train. With thy floating white hair, Raen! Wide thine eyes do look abroad, But the hands that should record Chariot charge and feat of sword. Answer not unto thy need. Rae the Druid does succeed; 128 Thou didst know the stars to read, Portent clouds and presage birds; Where are thy enchanted words? Could not all thy wisdom keep Thy head from this refuse heap? Whence thy pallid face does start; Thou thyself a portent art. Comes a splendor, comes a god! Buic mac Bainblae's head does nod, Weighted with its wreath of curls. Call to thine enamored girls; Call, and let the kiss of youth Be on thy twice ruddied mouth! Ha! a woman comes at call, Queen of this processional. Witch queen Col, in beauty first. By her spells the best or worst. Ha! the sweetness of thy arms; Ha! thy bosom's pulsing charm; IViiss I— but with patient care Painted, perfumed is thy hair With fresh blood, and blushes start On thy cheeks in equal art. Comes thy sister Eraise, next- Timid comment on thy text. Dream interpreter at most, Philtre merchant for our host. Thou in leaden light dotn rise With demurely lidded eyes! Move more quick this march of Death; Be more brief Fame's final breath; Thronged epitaphs must lose relief — Who are these two? Mighty chief Thou MacNois hast made one end With Loch More thy rival friend! Blent your war flags oft did fly. Mingled oft was your war cry. Now together do ye yield. Make retire from your last field. 129 Who come next? The Wizard three — Troigh and Dorn and Derna — ye With illusions not elude Passage to your own ghost blood! Last, what eldritch face is there, With thin clotted wisps of hair, Features out of human, most, Accuis, horror of our host. Whose witch scream and vulture claw Shook the stoutest heart of war! Meve the roll is read. No ken Of common names or unknown men. But leaders, actors in our host. Time to act if thou wouldst boast. MEVE: It is time and I will act. I a meeting, I a pact With Cuchulain ask and make. Go thou, MacRoth, at daybreak, Without armor, without sword, Riding on beyond the ford. Till Cuchulain, too, comes forth. Beg a meeting. Get his oath For my safety if I go All alone to meet my foe. OILIOLL: Darest thou meet him? Darest alone Trust the word of one unknown? MEVE: Trust! To-night I've had to trust In his mercy. But a thrust Of that silken curtain there. To his sword point I lay bare. I'm not safe in my own tent, Midst this mighty armament. Scarcely can more peril be In Cuchulain's company. Go, and we break up as well This debate unprofitable. Exeunt omnes. 130 SCENE 5. Cuchulain's camp. Night. Torches hum on the trees. GucMilain, alone, unarmed. CUCHULAIN: V^hat of this night shall be told? Tho' a devil, Meve is bold; Capable of aught in sooth — Even capable of truth — Abie to trust fearlessly In another's honesty. What can she gain here to-night But new certainty of fight? I no plan need. All my play Is delay, delay, delay. Till, long looked for, Ulster's horde Pours out to defend the ford. Hark, my caverned entrance hall To voice echoes, to footfall! Enter Laeg with torch, leading in Meve, who is. blindfolded and unarmed. LAEG: Queen, thy voyage ends. Thou makest port. Thou art in Cuchulain's fort. Roll the bandage from thine eyes; Here we dread no enemies. MEVE: So! Thy torches blind me more. This is a new nest of war, Lifted on the mountain swell, Lost in woods impregnable. Stay! Who is that man I see? LAEG: 'Tis Cuchulain! Exit. MEVE: Art thou he? Thou with yet a stripling's grace, Thou with yet a youth's fair face, Art Cuchulain? 131 CUCHULAIN: Yes, oh, Queen! An inhospitable scene Meets thy greatness. Would I could Turn the hollow of this wood To a lordly thronged hall With rich hangings on each wall. With soft carpets underfoot, Music, perfumes, lights to suit, And retainers infinite, So to fitly greet thy might; But the black trunks of these trees And their wind stirred draperies. And the flickering torches' glare, And this trampled earth floor bare, Are the best I have for thee. Host and servant I must be. MEVE: It is best so. Simply here Man and woman, without fear, Opposites of equal threat. In mind battle we are met. Frank I tell thee thou must yield. I must conquer on this field Tho' thy wits do thee intrench. CUCHULAIN: Wilt thou sit on this rude bench? I again a pardon ask. For the harsh, ungracious task Thrown on thee to seek me out; For the semblance of a doubt Shown in so blindfolding thee — Pardon this indignity. If a lonely warrior fight With an army in its might. He must fend him as he can. MEVE: Think not of it. Seat thee, man. Where I may thy features scan. Where I can peruse thy form! Art thou, then, that god of storm Whirling round the barrier coast Of my mailed and mighty host? 132 Art thou he who holds his way Blasting on thro' my array, Striking down with his swift sword Druid, Prince, or warrior-lord? Thou leapst from the cave of night; Day conceals thy circling flight; Numbers, weapons, charms avail Naught against thee. What does mall Thy power inexpugnable? What war god does in thee dwell? Thy lithe form with airy tread The dominion of thy head Bears aloft. From thy gray eyes Light like flashing steel forth flies. Sheathed in softness soon again; Thy short, curved mouth's red stain Looks disdain upon the world; And thy dark hair crisply curled Springs back from the helmet's weight. War's decision, woman's fate. Both in thee are concentrate. CUCHULAIN: Thou, a great Queen, at thy will Praise or mock may. Thou hast skill In the play of thought and v/ord. I but know to use my sword. MEVE: Mine thou must be. Hear, oh, friend! Thy war work must have an end. Stone thou art noc — art not steel; Human weakness thou must feel. Ulster undefended lies Save for thy great energies. Sickness falls on the great lords; Hesitate the lesser hordes; None comes forth to aid thee, none Makes the cause thou keepst his own. Cease, then! Conor keeps thee poor So thy service to secure; Dealing out a niggard pay. I am rich. Join my array 133 And rewards shall on thee light Like stars shooting down the night. On my westward coast there stands, Built as tho' by fairy hands, Fronting to the sunset sky, Dazzling down its bravery, A great palace. Mount and plain Circle it — a rich domain — Emerald from the seaborne mist; Hung with woods of amethyst, Deep with corn and thick with herds, Stag haunted, fluttering with birds; There shall be thy central seat. Thy court shall as mine be great; Warriors, poets, women, shall With thee hold high festival. All thy labor over, sink In such throned ease. Pause and think! CUCHULAIN: That throne were no seat of ease; For unto me from the seas Floating in, memorial Voices of the dead would call: "Traitor!" would the ghost cries com.e, "Where is Ulster? Where thy home?" On the banquet mirth would rise Mailed shapes with indignant eyes— They would rise up in eclipse, They would smite me on the lips, "Coward, recreant, when we died Thou wast absent from our side!" And the woman in my bed On a sudden would seem dead. Seem the corpse of some pure maid Lost because I did not aid. No, oh. Queen, too dearly bought Such domain and such a court. MEVE: Be my son, Cuchulain. Thou Wearest the king mark on thy brow. Thou art noble. Thou shouldst rule O'er this world of knave and fool. 134 Sweet my daughter Finnabra; Thou art dark as she is fair, And your matched motions are Like a red and purple star, Double in the heights above, Differing for delight of love. In' her soft eyes sapphire wave, Thy gray flashes quenched shall lave, In her rounded arms and breast. Thy lithe body shall find rest. Thou art darting energy. All repose and softness she. Ye shall wed and ye shall reign Over Erin's broad domain. Aye, your children's children shall Breed new dynasties for all. All the universal earth. Take the place becomes thy worth! CUCHULAIN: Fair the bride and rich the prize Thou dost picture to my eyes, Leaps my blood tumultuously, But no bride must deck for me. Lonely must my watch fire burn On the heights men half discern. As I slowly wheel and turn Round each sacred slope and hill. Guarding all the land from ill; Wild my life and gay and free, But no bride can company me. Lonely must my pennon wave O'er the blood feast of the brave. O'er the tumult tide of war, Trampling steed and charging car, When my foes shall shattered be. But no bride must weep for me. Lonely must my vessel's prow Ocean furrow like a plow, Pointed to the icy North, Pointed where the seas bring forth 135 Golden islands; where are furled All the sunsets of the world; New, strange visions I shall see, But no bride must wait for me. Lonely must my mind make flight In its vigils of the night To the star strewn fields of space, Beckoned by the Godhead's face, Questioning at the farthest gate, So to learn man's place and fate. Pierce thro' Death's antiquity. But no bride must watch for me. If thro' all I win me clear — Guardian, warrior, pioneer, Dreamer — if deserved renown Come my deeds and days to crown — Duty done and my hands free. Then a bride may welcome me. MEVE: Aye, the stars shall make thee room. Fool, thou wakest a sorry doom, Dreaming to find gods again 'Mid the ranks of common men. Knowest thou not that mortals hate All that's glorious, good or great? Myriads 'gainst thee shall combine; Thou a byeword and a sign Shall be to men's mockery — stung. Stabbed by woman's poison tongue. For thy very virtues cursed, All thy best declared the worst. And thy heel behind thee bit, By those thou dost benefit; Wouldbe rivals hiss thee down, And the craven and the clown Shall on thy foundations build; It is woe that thou hast willed. Ha! I see thee gray and old. Weary, sick, a-hungered, cold. By thy mighty vigils worn To a hollow thing of scorn, 136 Gone a-begging thro' the realm Thou keptst from Its overwhelm! Ha! I see thy radiant helm Turned to a receptacle For food broken, mixed pellmell! Ha! I see thy blazing sword To a staff turned to afford Succor to thy faltering limbs! Such the pay that greatness wins. Learn the wisdom, man, of life. Snatch thine own out of the strife; Glut thine appetites and lust; Seize the glorious gauds of dust; Take whate'er thy being craves; Make thy fellow-men thy slaves; Make thy wayward will their law; Admiration, love and awe Then shall wait upon thy days, And renown shall add its blaze. CUCHULAIN: Reader of the human heart, Darkener of man's life thou art. Let the evil thou dreamst come. My soul leaves not its high home. I go on, as I began, Careless of reward from man, Careless of my death won dirge. Hast thou more or worse to urge? Pardon, then, if I arise. From the Dawn Night's chariot flies. MEVE: Thou art marble, adamant! Cannot flattery, bribe or taunt Move thee from thy destined path? I am woman. Vain my wrath. Lo, before thy feet, I fling! The crowned daughter of a King Begs for respite, begs for peace. Let thy mighty slaughterings cease. All my army, 'neath my hand Mutinously must disband, 137 If I take no treaty back, If thou stand'st still on our track. Move a little from thy pride, Move a little to one side. Let a woman have her will. Let her hold dominion still. I will rise not from my knees, Warrior, till thou grant surcease. CUCHULAIN: This, oh, Meve, I grant to thee: Out of all thy soldiery Let each day one warrior-lord Fight against me at the ford. But thou must in camp hold fast While this truce of battle last. MEVE: Done! Unmoved be my array. Better one man fall by day Than a hundred die at night. Strange if thou, fight after fight, With fresh men shall win each day. Ten, a dozen thou mayst slay, But the next one wins at length. Thou no fount hast of new strength; Man or man still coming on In the end must wear thee down. I accept, and I depart. Blind this falcon for its start. CUCHULAIN: No, our truce is made. Go forth! Thy word is as mine in worth. Thou hast trusted me to-night; I in honor must requite. Take the secret of my track, Go with eyes unbandaged back! MEVE: Blind my eyes and bind my hands! What man a woman understands. Thou hast crushed me to the earth. Bowed a thing of royal birth, Thou must pay for this in blood. Could I know thy path, I would 138 Neither truce or pact regard; But my warriors, iiitlierward, Send to tal/ords. Than on their lame and mumbling words. To dice, Cuchulain! I must have Excitement in this yawning grave, Housed with women, priests and things. CUCHULAIN: Ladies once had your worshippings. FEIRCETNE: They're good to play with in the dark, Pretty in Qarden or vhe park. But to talk, game, ride, fight with— die — They're nothing. They gape emptily! Sit, sit, Cuchulain. The dice leap out. CUCHULAIN: Hast money. Bard? FEIRCETNE: That ycu should flout! 'Tis your fault that my luck's so hard. At Dundealgan, border ward — 208 I, at your bidding, treasures left, Gold, silver, open to the theft Of Meve and Fergus. Ha! I see Them fingering over covetously Rings, bracelets, trappings that were mine. CUCHULAIN: They were yours sometime! Con- nacht, though, Another ov,/ner will them owe. FEIRCETNE: Well, lend me somewhat for the game. CUCHULAIN: My purse Is on the table. Claim What part you will. FEIRCETNE: Cuchulain, why House you when war plumes darkening fly? Booty is to be had at will; The exultation and the thrill Of battle waits us; glorious songs Knock at my mind's gate in their throngs, And we sit here. iCUCHULAIN: Feircetne, save I know you honest, noble, brave, I'd say that Meve had bought you o'er To lure me to her. Why no more Than only now, Cathba did give Reiterate, imperative Warning 'gainst issuance or act — You for my jailer did contract. Think you I pine to wane at ease. FEIRCETNE: Well, to the dice. They're sure to please. Shall I keep score? Ha! what is that? A stranger, superhumanly tall, clad in com' plete armor, with face hidden, enters and stands ivithin the door. CUCHULAIN: With goggling eyes what starest thou at? 209 FEIRCETNE: Turn and behold! CUCHULAIN: A stranger! See, With his sword point he motions me Without! Is it a challenge? Speak! Thou masked intruder what dost seek? Again he motions as before, As his sword waves as if for war. FEIRCETNE: He answers not nor shows his face. His trappings show not Ulster's race. Some emissary he of Meve. CUCHULAIN: Roundly the saucy knave I'll serve. He picks up his sivorcl and starts towards the figure. FEIRCETNE: But hold! How could an enemy Here in our central fortress be? Thrice guarded walls and streets have been. A mouse could not get here unseen. Hark ye, Cuchulain — ill betide — It is the phantom prophesied! CUCHULAIN: Phantom or ghost I'll drive it hence. FEIRCETNE: Alas! it is no thing of sense For steel to deal with. If your wrath Rouses 'twill draw you down some path To sure destruction. Think! You are Forbid to pass that portal bar. CUCHULAIN: You are believer sudden grown, Feircetne. Well, what's to be done? Is this dumb masque, with gesturing sword. Our guest? Wilt seat him at our Board? FEIRCETNE: Resume our game. He'll disappear, Finding his errand useless here. My eye upon him I will keep. CUCHULAIN: My sword shall on the table sleep. It is thy throw. So, countest thou ten! Demons and damned lords of men. What thing is this? 210 They both start up ivildly as the figure strides forivard and strikes with his sword a ringing hlow on Cuchulain's shield, which is piled with the rest of his arms. It then retreats to the door, l)eekoning as before. Unbearable! Such echoing challenge ne'er did swell Unto Cuchulain's ear before But he who sent it sank in gore. FEIRCETNE: 'Tis but the shadow of our thought, The phantasy of our brains distraught; Like images that on a glass Form but if we before them pass. Regard it not and it will go. CUCHULAIN: Thou manly semblance of a foe, If thou art human, thou art brave Beyond all precedent we have; Glad would 1 meet with such a man. But know Cuchulain under ban May not his threshold pass. If thou Art a real warrior and not show. Armed, armored as thou art, advance. Here's room for all death's circumstance. FEIRCETNE: He answers not, but mops and mows There by the doorway of the house. Turn your back on him. He is naught. CUCHULAIN: A frame magnificently wrought, But empty shell or coward heart. They sit doivn again at the table. What was the game? FEIRCETNE: Let's make new start. As they are about to take up the dice, the figure strides forivard again, seizes the hex from them and dashes it on the floor. He re- treats as before. 211 CUCHULAIN: My heart is bursting; Insult! Deatli! I'll follow tho' he be a breath Of hell emblazoned in man's shape. Hold me not! Off! He will escape. FEIRCETNE: Your oath, Cuchulain. Think! The ban! Be for one moment more than man, And this impersonate dream of evil Will go to his creating devil. CUCHULAIN: Ah, still he beckons me along. I will resist! I will be strong! Thou hollow and abysmal shade, Back to the hideous mind that made, That sinewed thee, thou thing of froth, And puppet strung and sent thee forth. I will not follow. Be that word As final by thy sculptress heard. Thou can'st not move me. Best had she Withdraw thy useless embassy. FEIRCETNE: Look, look — the wavering vision fades! The figure disappears. CUCHULAIN: That trial was sharp. The battle glades Of Moy Muirtheimne knew no stress Or exercises to equal this. FEIRCETNE: Well, Wizard art and Druid lere Have my respect henceforth — and fear. Care you to dice more? * CUCHULAIN: No, your harp! My mind o'erstrained, tense and sharp. With tranquilizing sound and song To lower levels lead along. As Feircetne prepares his harp, the daylight dims until the room is in utter darkness. 212 CUCHULAIN: A sudden twilight fall is this! Has the sun sunk in some abyss? FEIRCETNE: 'Tis the enemy again! Prepare! CUCHULAIN: Order us lights. FEIRCETNE: Ha! lights are there! In the background there appears an illumi- nated circle, on which gradually comes out a rock in the ocean, isolated, surf beaten, to which two men are clinging. CUCHULAIN: 'Tis a new mummery, indeed! FEIRCETNE: But, Cuchulain, dost thou heed Those faces, forms? 'Tis thou and I Cling there beneath a blazing sky. Storm beaten, bruised, fevered, mad, Divested of what might we had. CUCHULAIN: Familiar they, but what of it We are here, I hope, and hurt no whit. FEIRCETNE: See my poor hands I lift to shed Some little shade upon my head. Baked, blistered by the blazing sun. My body writhes almost undone — To my parched lips my tongue does cleave, That can no help give or receive! CUCHULAIN: And I! My shaftlike form erect, O'ertopples, broken, shattered, wrecked; Down to the water's edge I creep And lap the saltness of the deep. Oh, horrible nausea In my throat! FEIRCETNE: On mine own flesh my eyes do gloat; Upon my arm my teeth I set; I taste, I drink — ah, nothing yet — The dry fount yields no foaming flood. CUCHULAIN: Ah, give me, too, to drink of blood! FEIRCETNE: Help! Water! We must drink or die! 213 The picture disappears suddenly, and before them hovers in the air a salver heaped with delicious fruits, and with gohlets of loine and pitchers of foaming mead. Saved! See what freshness gloriously Waits on our peril sheer and stark. They move toivards the salver, which slowly withdraws before them. CUCHULAIN: Seems the feast shifts here in the dark. FEIRCETNE: Oh, haste! Oh, stumble not! I first Will reach the wine and slake my thirst. CUCHULAIN: Halt thou, Feircetne! Here's the door. This is imposture as before! FEIRCETNE: I care not! I that drink must have; 'Tis succor tho' the devils gave. I go. He rushes out. The salver remains station- ary before Guchulain. CUCHULAIN: Ha! be that phantom wine, Grew those grapes on no earthy vine? I'll test them. Any change must ease My intolerable agonies. 7s about to follow Feircetne lohen Emer en- ters in the dark. EMER: Cuchulain! CUCHULAIN: Emer! EMER: Art thou here? CUCHULAIN: Aye, here! EMER: What means this night of fear Wherein thou art hidden? What that gleam. The banquet of a wizard's dream? 214 CUCHULAIN: Thou hast saved me! Phantom feast be gone, I am sane! Thou temptst not! Serve where born! The vision disappears, the darkness lifts and a flood of sunlight fills the room. EMER: What of horror has happed Here in the hall since I went? CUCHULAIN: Emer, sit by my side, Cherish my head on thy breast, Let thy warm, thrilling touch Fill me with courage anew, Thrill me with comfort of life. Tyrannous terrors have struck Chill to his heart thou hast saved; See, Feircetne is gone, Maddened, breaking his oath; Driven by anguish abroad. EMER: Dear to a wife is such word. Well could she give up her life Helping her husband in stress. Oh, my hero, my god! CUCHULAIN: Hardly a hero would he Show in the sight of the world. But by a woman's call kept From breaking honor and oath; Needing the wine of her kiss, Needing her touch to retune The unstrung chords of his heart. EMER: Glorious, greater again Shall thou gleam forth in thy might. The ordeal is over perchance. Certain not from thy side Will I stir till it ends; Facing the evil with thee. CUCHULAIN: Respite at least is allowed. I have regathered my strength, Doom of the wizards to dare. 215 As they sit silent, noises begin to come from without, muffled at first, then clearer. Hark! What noise from without? Muffled marching of men, Clank of armor and arms, Officers' ordering cries, Neighing and stamping of steeds, Chariots roll on the road; Surely the camp is astir, Surely the captains march out. Maimed by my promise must I, Gyved like a guest of the grave, Sit while my brothers in arms Like eagles plume them for flight. Like lions leap to the fray. The noise dies down. EMER: *Tis but the muster of men, Conor's review of the camp. That is nothing to thee. Hero who not with the horde Goes attended to fight. Hewing thy terrible path Single, awful, alone! Thro' the mass of thy enemies' men. Remote from the ranks of thy friends. The noise grows louder and u 7ningled with shouts and battle cries. CUCHULAIN (starts up): Ha! it is more, it is more! My nostrils take in the scent Taint of blood on the air. Battle is on — they are met. Hear ye not hissing of shafts, Hurling of spears in their flight. Clash of steel upon steel, Groans of the wounded, that die 'Neath the feet of the horses and wheels? Hear ye not trumpets that sound Challenge and order to charge? 216 Hear ye not thunder of feet, Battle shouts bandied about? "Ulster!" ''Ulster!" they cry; ''Connacht, back to the breach." Conor's own slogan I hear; Answering peal of Mac Roigh. I can stand it no more, Arm I must for the fray. Laeg, Laeg. Ho, Squire Charioteer—dost thou lag? Sleepest while the battle awakes? Hurry! Enter Laeg. Help me, I say. Clothe me in armor complete! Laeg, loith ETiiefs tremttling assistance, arms Cuchulain. The tumult trebles without! My iron pointed shoes and my greaves! Emer — ha, dost thou help? White dove dressing a hawk! Nsw my corselet of steel, Burnished to blaze o'er the strife. Glad from thy hand I receive, Emer, my helmet of brass Plumed with ominous red. Laeg, my target and spear! Bare my blade from its sheath! See, I rush on the foe! During this scene the noises from without are redouhled. EMER: I have helped thee to arm. For seems it the battle draws near. And this house thou must hold; Aid I not thee to go forth, For the omen hangs o'er thy head. Think of thine oath and the ban. 217 CUCHULAIN: Foolish child, full of fears, What matters omen or ban When the tumult is here on our step? Wouldst have me die on my hearth, Dragged like a wolf from its hole? Emer, dearest, unwind The weight of thy wonder white arms! Hold me no more, I must go! He throivs her oft, but she reaches the door first and stands, with her arms outstretched, against it. EMER: Only over me here Shalt thou escape from my charge; Crush me under thy heel. Send me a herald before To light thy path thro' the dark Of death and doom that besiege; Other way I stir not. CUCHULAIN: Loyal, oh, royal wife! Art thou to me, a man. Loyal less to my fame? Back to thy chamber and there Study, dream the caress Thou will give when I come Flushed from the field of the war; In victory vanquished by thee. Go, in gentleness, go. EMER: Never, Cuchulain, before Stood I opposed to thy will. I have sent thee to fight. All my heart in thy breast; Chrism of kisses have pressed On thy armor and spear and glaive; But now an instinct of gloom Keeps me guard at this gate 'Gainst thy fatal outrush. CUCHULAIN: Pass. I have paltered enough. 218 As he seizes her the door opens and Cathha and Conall Gearnach enter. CATHBA: Ha! Cuchulain; thou art here! We are breathless in our fear; For, Feircetne, we have met Wandering, dazed and dreaming yet, And what words he could vouchsafe Hurried us hopeless here. But safe Standest thou, hero, firm and stout Victor o'er the wizard rout. CUCHULAIN: I am here. But how seem ye, Heralds of tranquility; In habiliments of peace, At the top of strife, at ease? Conall, thou wert ever wont To be in the battle front; Cathba, by the King's side, thou Shouldst stand to guide the battle prow. Arm ye, haste, — I cannot wait. Fears my soul I am too late. CONALL: Why should we arm? What battle's on That thou art in caparison? CUCHULAIN: Why all about ye, whence ye came. War wraps Emania in its flame: Saw ye not? Hear ye not those cries, War's thunder and its agonies? CATHBA: I hear them. Oh, the mockeries! This is the wizard's third device. Be calm, Cuchulain. Quiet stands Emania 'mid its peaceful lands. By wizard skill thou art abused, Enchanted arms alone are loosed. CUCHULAIN: I'll not believe it! Rushes to the door and throws it wide open. There's the proof! See that line that hangs aloof. 219 Frontage like a forest shown On the hills around the town, Muster and the march of men. Thick as headed wheat is when Sickles glisten — they descend; Pennons stream and banners blend; Plumes nod like one line of sea; Armored downward to the knee Move they like a crystal wall, And earth trembles under all. Meve herself the centre leads, Warrior tho' of blackest deeds; Fergus marshals the left wing, Ulster's glorious exile King; And all the Seven Maines' might Is concentred on the right; They come, they thunder at the gate; They pour within, they win, they wait! Seest thou, Cathba — seest thou all? Wilt thou let Emania fall? CATHBA: By thy side, as well as thee, I the torturing vision see; Such the potent magic charm; But me it does not lure to harm. Arm nor armies round us meet; Imposture this and counterfeit. CUCHULAIN: Oh, 'tis not possible! Wil't swear, Cathba, there are no armies there? CATHBA: I swear, Cuchulain. From thy home, From Dundealgan word Is come That Meve is camped there — that thy halls Blaze nightly with her festivals. CUCHULAIN: Is it so? Does sense so fare. Drugged by the visionary ware? Look to it, Cathba. Thrice the three Have almost had their will of me! CATHBA: They to-day have finished. But I fear their workings dread Another and another day. Hark, Cuchulain, far away, Where the fairy folk abide, Furrowed in a mountain side, Is a valley, hidden deep, Sacred to silences and sleep, Lost to tradition or to tale, And men call it the Deaf Vale. So shrouded 'tis from sun or star. So sheltered from all sounds that are. Earth's secretest, securest spot, It is on earth as it were not. Rocks o'erhang and trees o'erwhelm This withdrav/n and sunken realm; Branched boles above it meet. And below the walls retreat; Rugged wild the entrance place Shows not on the mountain face; Hollowly within the scene Opens, mossed in sloping green. Midday is as morning there; Sifted thro' the twilight air Of the intertangled trees The speckled sunlight flits and flees, And the torches of the moon Vivid gleam and vanish soon. Lapses a stream from pool to pool. Scarcely ruffled, dark and cool. There to-night, Cuchulain, I Will take thee with a company. Warriors, poets, men of grace, The best of all the Red Branch race; Girls more glorious still than these Emania's maiden goddesses: These shall cherish thee and cheer And keep thee from the wizard fear. Emer, Conall, quick begin! Cheat we the clan Calatin. 221 SCENE 4. A rocky amphitheatre at the entrance to the Deaf Valley. Great boulders, interspersed with trees and bushes, heaped about. On one side a towering pinnacle of rock, on the other the en- trance to the valley veiled with trees. Sunset. Igloia enters. IGLOIA: Like a drifting thistle borne On the wind's back I have gone Over Ulster's broad domain, Seeking our vanished prey again. Every moment of each hour Of this midday of our power I have pried and I have spied Into cities, countryside, Castles, cottages and caves; Fields and forests, even the waves Have peered in to find the Knight Hid by Cathba's art from sight. Hovering o'er this wildered place I this moment thought to trace Figure moving, shrilling nigh; Like a war horse, shape and cry. I've descended. Is it gone? See! a path leads on and on Thro' walled trees that wider ope. Shielded by a forest cope A glimmering valley inward leads, And the horse there calmly feeds. Liath 'tis, Cuchulain's steed! All is gained and good indeed, For the master bideth near. Now to call my sisters here. She retraces her steps, with her crutches' help, and climbs to the top of the rocky pinna- cle, and perched there scans the sky. 222 Sisters, sisters, where ye be. Over land or over sea, Floating, fluttering, be my word By your apprehension heard! Come, approach, draw near, appear, Ulla, Eithe! Hallo! Here! Eithe appears around a corner of the rock. EITHE: Far off, remote, I heard my name. Launched like a lightning flash I came. Hast found him? IGLOIA: How? And have not you? EITHE: Scent of hound upon the dew. Sight of eagle from the blue, Track not Cuchulain, guarded true. IGLOIA: He is found. I claim the prize! EITHE: Thou shalt feast first on his eyes. Ha! Ha! and Cathba vanquished is. IGLOIA: Not yet have we won our bliss. Here comes Ulla! Enter Ulla. ULLA: Sisters! here! So, the carrion must be near. IGLOIA: All thy quest was then in vain. ULLA: Traversing the skyey plain, I have travelled far and wide, But Cuchulain safe does hide. IGLOIA: He is here. Thy journeys end. Ulla, Eithe, come, descend! They clatter down the rocks to the level space. Tremble, Cuchulain, in thy lair, Vengeance's minirters are here. By Muirtheimne's blood red plain. By our father, brothers is slain, 223 By ourselves, whose horrors freeze, Mutilated mockeries, We thy doom and death declare. ULLA: So, Igloia, do I swear. Yet he 'scaped us yesterday. Art thou surer now of sway? IGLOIA: I am all — exulting sure. Left there is a-many a lure — Thro' the twilight and the mirk We must prepare them. So, to work. EITHE: You are mistress of this scene. Order us, oh, wizard Queen! IGLOIA: Ulla, all, yon streamlet breeds Willow wands and stalky reeds. On its bank at every turn, Stores, too, of fantastic fern Dankly flourish. Fetch us here Armfuls of such needed gear. Ulla goes under the trees towards the en- trance of the vale. EITHE: What must I do? IGLOIA: See this stone Rounded from its rolling on, Many and many a one like this Gather, gather! EITHE: Easy 'tis. Look, I send one to thee down! Like hail they're on the hillside strown. IGLOIA: Good, oh, girl! EITHE: Another yet. And another follows it! IGLOIA: More. These stones thou wakest to life Shall stir in a greater strife. EITHE: Hast enough? 224 IGLOIA: Aye, so I think! Here comes Ulla from the brink Of the crystal glassy Vv-ave With the riches which it gave. ULLA: What's to do now— what's to do? IGLOiA: First arrange this stony crew In a disordered company. As tho' halted, bridle free. So. Now, sisters, sit ye here: Braid and broider, mould and make Manikins we may awake, Riders for this troop of horse Rocking, ready for the course. Peel the willow wands that white Show men like for maids' delight; Set them crutched, fastened on Each upbounding steed of stone; Give them now their battle gear. Stalks for sword and reed for spear; Let fern a dozen forms assume. Cloak and banner, shield and plume! They busy themselves in their task, sitting in a circle on the ground. ULLA: See, my Knight is prettiest! EITHE: Nay, this one is garbed best; For my kerchief I have torn; Lace and silver mantle worn. Make him a brave gentleman. ULLA: This one is leader of the clan. Red the ribbon is that shows Waving o'er his vizored brows. Thoro' tourney, thoro' fight. My favors he shall bear aright. EITHE: See, but this one is more grand; My ring I place upon his hand. He shall woo me when he can. Wilt thou not, my gentleman? 225 ULLA: Dandling one of the manikins on her lap. Oh, my dolly! Oh, my child! Rock thee on my bosom wild; On my tempest shaken breast Sweetly smile and sweetly rest; Close thy tender eyes in sleep, Love o'er thee a watch shall keep; Mother's brooding fold thee in. Safe from sorrow, pain, or sin. IGLOIA: Cease your prattle good, my dears, Ere our purpose melt in tears! From self pity naught is won Save a hate to urge us on. EITHE: Well, all's finished, we have made A most gallant cavalcade. IGLOIA: Ready, ready for the morn. Where as men ye must be born. Wait ye puppets! By our spell Ye shall rise and ye shall swell; Bones and flesh of warriors take; Swords shall brandish, spears shall shake; And your horses underneath Shall stride on with fiery breath. Ours your energies that thrill; Ours your purpose, ours your will. Ye shall shout and ye shall laugh. Talk, weep — all — ye things of chaff; Apparitions, shades of naught. Less than ghosts, a wizard's thought, Wholly human shall you seem: Life shall accept the empty dream. Ye shall wander as we choose. Ways and walks of mortals use, And shall at last Cuchulain bring To his deadly reckoning. EITHE: Is there more to do? IGLOIA: Why, yes; It may be these images Fail us at last. Another lure Get we ready to make sure. ULLA: Choose which one, oh, sister skilled! IGLOIA: A beacon like a Belfire build! Scatter, scatter to and fro; Bushes on this hillside grow; Branches lie 'neath yonder trees, Windfalls, the storm's charities; By the gnarled streamlet cast Logs are there that long will last; Gather, gather, bring them all, A pile, prodigious, funeral. Between these mighty boulders here Build we for Cuchulain's cheer. They scatter about their ivork, soon appear- ing with their liurdens. EITHE: Like a moving mountain, I Feel my fringes touch the sky! ULLA: This great fragment of a tree Trails to our festivity! IGLOIA (calling): Here's a log fit for our hearth, I cannot move it from the earth. Ulla, Eithe, help me! So. This will flame and this will glow Hours on hours. Let it crush Downward on the heap of brush! Now more brush, more branches, higher Than the hills shall soar our fire. EITHE (bringing more brush): Hallo! Hallo! we'll signal far. ULLA: Hallo! Hallo! we'll wake the war. IGLOIA: What burn we in this blazing mesh? ULLA AND EITHE: Cuchulain's flesh! Cuchulain's flesh! 227 IGLOIA: That will do, the rest can wait Till the sun opes to-morrow's gate. ULLA: If we are done to-night with charms Let's sleep in one another's arms. There, thro' yon trees, roofed overhead I saw a hollowed mossy bed, So sweet, so soft, so deep with ease That sleep shall kiss us into peace. There let us lie down and forget A little and a little yet. IGLOIA: What girl the entrance past where he Abideth, our great enemy? No hospitality at all. We suffer in Cuchulain's hall! Rather outside here on the rocks Wake and watch down the starry flocks. Couch here, and whispering thro' the night Our long remembered woes recite, And keep our hate and hopes more keen. To hail to-morrow's deadly scene. SCENE 5. A glade in the Deaf Valley. Great boles reach upward and roof the place. The sunlight flick- ers down through the leaves on sward and stream. Cuchulain lies asleep and Emer watches over him. EMER: Oh, how I bless this abode — Reticent, retired, remote. Shielded; safely secure. Murmur musical brook, Threading this dream vale thro'! Sing on your summits above All ye secretest birds! Birds and brook ye alone Know the egress, the path Into, out of this vale! Neither will ye confess, But will help me to guard Here my hero, my king. CUCHULAIN (stirring in his sleep) : Bat wings away! EMER: Ha! dark Phantoms throng in his sleep; Banished troubles intrude. His brow is knitted — his arms Mightily toss to and fro. CUCHULAIN: Scarlet and grisly snakes! EMER: The wizards press on his dream! Better that he were awake. Wake, Cuchulain; arise! CUCHULAIN: Where am I? Emer! The Vale! EMER: What fear foughtest thou but now? CUCHULAIN: Horrors indefinite. I Hardly know them to name; Something gripped at my throat; But they are past — they are blown Back by the breath of this morn; Lost in this beauty about. EMER: Canst thou, Cuchulain, content Thy great soul with this place? CUCHULAIN: Emer, the innermost dream Of the world worn fighter is peace. Combat, conquering, come At the last to mean nothing to him; Wizards toil and turmoil. Empty appearances, such As to us lately uprose, That is the tale of this life. Training, ambitions, desires, Foot to foot struggle in strife, Charge exultant, the cry Of poets clashing one's name, All is but twisted breath. Changing shapes that we see Flash and die in the flame. Oft at the summit of strife, With the shoutings sounding around, I have wished that with one Dear and deeply desired White wreath woman of snow, I could be lost in some isle Sunk where the sun goes down; There would I build our abode, Fish and hunt for our food, And the horrible haunts of men Visit not, know not again; There with towering dreams Would I create anew Visions of perfected worlds. And to that wife pouring out, She who shared my sole throne. The large designs of my thought, I would claim her caress as reward. Nothing is real but rest, Rest and the moulding of dreams. EMER: Ha! and let but a spear Shake in the wind, or a shield Clash as it turns on the wall, Up thou startest afire. No. Cuchulain, I trust Little thy peaceful presage. Listen: Two days have passed Of the reign of the wizards' spells. But now a third is to come. Here seem we safe and forgot, But promise me, promise me, thou. Thou wilt not arm or go forth. Save that I give to thee leave, Save that I ask it of thee. Turn not away, for thy hand Holding I'll twist it till pain Forces the promise from thee. CUCHULAIN: Something may come to compel! EMER: Then will I bid thee to go; Pretexts palter in vain — Promise, promise and kiss. CUCHULAIN: Well, as thou wilt. 'Tis a day Only. Then out on Meve Hurl I headlong. I swear Not for to to-day to go forth, Save that thou orderest so. EMER: Who, Cuchulain is she In whose beleaguering arms You'd hold the world off — at bay? CUCHULAIN: You, you, white witch— by far Worse than those wizards who drive Me, a warrior, to earth. A Jiunting horn sounds without. EMER: Hark! the hunt is at hand! Enter Conall Cearnach, Aithirne, Sencha, Ere, with other of the Ultonians. With them is a young warrior whose face is hidden to the eyes by helmet and vizor. Four attendants bear in a dead boar. CONALL: Hail, Cuchulain! SENCHA: Warrior, hail. AITHIRNE: My knee to Lady Emer! EMER: Rise, Poet of gold locks and blue eyes! CUCHULAIN: Heartily welcome one and all. Ye stir soon as for festival. 231 CONALL: One has stirred still earlier; Hence this bristly loaded bier. Aithirne, you're best qualified, With flourishes of praiseful pride, With chanted words and ordered verse j This morn's adventure to rehearse. AITHIRNE: Needs no art, but simple truth. Chieftain, you owe unto this youth A gold wrought cup engraved o'er With crimson scenes of hunt and war, CUCHULAIN: Killed he the boar that held at bay All our science yesterday? AITHIRNE: Aye, in this manner. You last night, In middle of our feast's delight, Pledged your drinking cup to him Who should slay the monster grim, Lurking in the highest glen, And of this vale sole citizen. So this morn while still the shades Camped thick in these underglades, A number of us armed and went On the grisly battle bent. Blundering thro' the blackness so Baffled by trees set thick a-row, By boulders that a-sudden rose Out of the darkness to oppose, We climbed on till we neared the place Where the boar sank and left no trace Before our yesterday's pursuit. There thro' the silence absolute Suddenly rose a bursting crash, And at that moment one wide flash, As the whole quiver of the sun Were emptied, blazed there, and lit on. A slender figure, war arrayed Set in the centre of the glade. Leaning, with couched spear, before The charging of the foam flecked boar. 232 See! The spear in the creature's side Snaps. With the force the boy flings wide At mercy of the wheeling thing. But, no! His sword goes glittering To the hilt buried in its heart. Such is the tale, Prince, I impart. Lo, the victor bring we here. Praise him; and yield him the gold gear. CUCHULAIN: Excellent! Youth, 'twas nobly done. The cup is thine and fairly won. Now let us know thy name and face. THE STRANGER: Pardon, Prince, if a little space I hide both. Here in Cathba's train, A novice whom he took to train, I came. He bade me modestly Keep in the shade, unknown, till he Returned, and brought me forth to light. CUCHULAIN: Deeds and voice avouch thy right To be among the brave and best. Use thy own choice unknown to rest. The ladies of Emer's court, Nuarda, Comma, Grainne and others enter hurriedly. AITHIRNE: Now the scattered stars unite That shone separate thro' the night, Mingling each despised ray So to make a dazzling day. NUARDA: Lady Emer, lovely wife Of the lord of death and life. Sad the news we have to bring. The best jewel of thy ring. Fairest of thy circling girls, Niam of the rippling curls. From our arms and from her bed Flies, is lost, is vanished! EMER: Niam missing! How and when? She cannot sure have left the glen! NUARDA: Last night was she blithe and bold, But this morn her couch Is cold. EMER: Have you sought her? NUARDA: Long and late Down unto the entrance gate, Niam, Niam — calling out; But there came no answering shout. Sign or presence. She is gone! EMER: Who was her last companion? NUARDA: Grainne loved her, knew her best. EMER: Had she unto you confessed, Grainne, any new intent Of flight or friends' abandonment? GRAINNE: Nothing. Yet she has been strange. Quick her mind in roving range Changed from sadness unto mirth. And her laughter scarce had birth Ere it checked itself with tears. Oftenest her prattle filled our ears Of heroes' bravery, and most Of Cuchulain, of our host; Telling o'er his feats and fame. Dwelling on his mighty name. Last night, saucier, gayer, she Hinted at some mystery. And with air of wistful spite Kissed and bade me a good night. But the morning when I rose By her bed I found her clothes; Nothing needful had she ta'en — She is stolen — she is slain. EMER (to the strange warrior): Young hero, hither come to me! THE STRANGER: Here I bow upon my knee! As he lends over Emer suddenly removes his hclviet and reveals the head and down rip- pling tresses of a girl. OMNES: Niam! Niam! 234 EMER: Do not, dear, Quite in your blushes disappear. CUCHULAIN: Glorious maiden! Was it thou Made the boar before thee bow? AITHIRNE: Voice of praise or wings of song Lift and bear thy fame along. Maiden's form and woman's mind, Warrior's heart in thee we find. Connacht boasts the force of Meve; Ulster has a girl more brave, Maugre wicked wizard art. Fair of face and pure of heart. Hail thou goddess among girls Hiding in thy rippling curls! CUCHULAIN: Let us in unto the feast! Be my gift with gems increased. She at the board enthroned high Shall rule to-day's festivity. Exeunt Omnes. SCENE 6. A rude hall hewn out of the solid rock. Pil- lars of rock, open hetween, support the rear. On one side a great fireplace. Arms are hung adout the walls of the place. Seated at han- quet are all the Ultonians in the Deaf Valley. Niam has the place of honor on Cuchulain's right. EMER: Topic thou of every tongue, Theme of song by poets sung, Lady, you above us ride. Sparkling, buoyant in your pride. 235 NIAM: Out, alas, an arrow sent, Far into the firmament, Loosened from some hero's string Soon to fail — a broken thing. CUCHULAIN: Would Feircetne were here, too, Words and strings to woo for you! EMER: how, Aithirne, do you place The Head OIlav of our race? AITHIRNE: Feircetne is the first of all. His firm paced verses fall Like the trampling of the steeds Marching down to battle deeds; His great music moves behind Like the spirits of the wind Gathering up the Autumn leaves. Marshalling the Autumn eves. CONALL: He sings women less than war. Dreams he of the hurled car, And the missile's rattling rain. And the sword blade's glorious stain. CUCHULAIN: How, Aithirne, do you rate The best things of mortal state? Food and wine, the things of sense. Women's smiles, song, eloquence, Action in heroic guise. Midmost battle exercise. AITHIRNE: Earliest, simplest, surest good Is the primal gift of food. Wine the blood's torch is that sends Man to high or desperate ends. Wit and eloquence, to those All our mortal business goes. Action on the foughten field, That is man's protecting shield. Woman's smiles; but thro' them we Hold happiness and hope in fee; They link the future and the past; By them alone the world does last. 236 Every gift and every grace In our mortal life has place; But more universal far The dream domains of poets are; All earthy things they recreate Superior to decrees of fate. We soon pass who here do sit; Fades our glow and fails our wit. Save the poet shall ye arm — Wielding his word forgeries. Lady Emer, all thy charm, All thy strength, Cuchulain, dies. A noise as of trampling of horses is heard without, then a hurst of laughter. The Ulto- nians start in confused alar7n. CONALL: The enemy! ERC: To arms! SENCHA: No, knell, No warning from the sentinel! CUCHULAIN (who has remained quietly seated): Calm, be calm, friends. Well I know This stale and reiterate show. At last the wizards find us out. Resume the banquet! All their rout Is harmless if we make it so. CONALL: Art sure, Cuchulain? To and fro Horses and men marched. CUCHULAIN: Dreams, but dreams More evanescent than moonbeams. Seat yourselves all! They are ahout to resume their places when again is heard the stamping of horses and the talking and laughter of men. They hesitate and stare about them. SENCHA: I am old; Wizard art and work untold I have witnessed. Spells can weave Wonders. Yet I scarce believe, 237 Save upon Cuchulain's word, Empty are those sounds we heard. CUCHULAIN: In its nature fugitive Only altering can it live, The dark art of wizard charm. i pledge you there needs no alarm. The sounds again, louder and nearer. ERC: I am young, and nothing can Bear in me the heart of man. And sit silent, listening yet, So beleaguered and beset. Chief, permit me that I go Scout without and find the foe. Or, failing, dissipate the ghosts Gathering round in grisly hosts. CUCHULAIN: It is needless. Yet 'tis known The warning was for me alone! Go and see what sights you may. Ere takes his sword and shield from the wall and goes out. The rest seat themselves douM- fully and depressedly. Sencha, thy wisdom is awry. Magic more wonderful thou hast Met and vanquished in the past. The Bridge of Cliffs at Scathach's home — Does not that memory to thee come. SENCHA: Ha! that vision of my youth! Broad the causeway seemed in sooth; Built above a gulf where sight Lost Itself in downward flight; Smooth to any that essayed; But the first trial that he made Grew it narrow as a hair Hanging o'er the abysm there; And the next its length did pinch To an isolated inch; And at the third it slippery grew As an eel your hand slides thro'; 238 And the last it stood up high, Like a mast to touch the sky. Yes, I grant that thing was far Stranger than these voices are. Re-enter Ere. ERC: Rise, ye men of Ulster, rise! Meve's outlying companies Have this hillside, hold this vale. Thro' the firs, whose sweeping pale Hides this house, I crept a-near Where the stream goes in the clear; There in groups and companies Men stood, lounged, in armed ease; Horses of the streamlet drank, Or grazed the grass upon the bank; And the warriors talked and laught. Broke their food or flagons quaffed; Farther, glinting in the sun. Saw I helmets many a one 'Mid the foliage stretching straight Down unto the entrance gate. There's a force to overwhelm This secure and secret realm. We are taken, save we burst On them and surprise them first. Lead, Cuchulain, lead us forth! CUCHULAIN: Learn, oh. Ere, how little worth Are our gifts of use and wont When the wizards us confront! Thou hast seen, hast heard it all. But visions apparitional Are these figures that assume Form to lure me to my doom. CONALL: But, Cuchulain, it may be They are a real enemy. Were it not better sally out, End the fear and end the doubt. 239 SENCHA: Yet before we venture so — Do you, Conall, 'mid them go? Wise, experienced, circumspect. You Erc's vision may correct. CONALL: Be tliey devils, be they men, I'll prove them ere I come again. Co7iall takes Ms arms and goes out. Era moves about among the other loarriors. ERC: Arm, Aithirne! Niall, arm! Ready be for the alarm. Conall's voice must echo mine: Thick the foes about us twine. Arm thee, Sencha! Be not ta'en, By this hearth defenceless slain. We must front and face the fact, Tho' Cuchulain will not act. The warriors take their arms from the wall and gather together near the entrance of the hall. Cuchulain looks on in silence. Emer kneels by his side. EMER: Oh, my hero, keep thy plight. This is not thy hour to fight. Let no adjurations lure Thy soul, unalterably sure. To arm thee on this wizard day. Soon will it pass, and then the fray Shall know the battle thunderbolt. CUCHULAIN: And these youngsters they revolt! They would teach that have not learned. They would eat that have not earned. Re-enter Conall with his sword dripping with blood. CONALL: Up, Cuchulain! CUCHULAIN: What hast there? CONALL: Blood that thro' a man did fare! CUCHULAIN: Blood! 240 EMER: Thy promise, hero! CUCHULAIN: Peace! CONALL: Listen! On my errand out, Half assured and half in doubt, Went I. Crept I thro' the firs, Saw the scene and characters, Saw the very things, in short, Pictured thee in Erc's report. Men and horses and more men Glancing farther down the glen. Yet I thought that all might be But illusions, mockery. Then a warrior near me strayed From his fellows in the glade. Waited I until he past The veil of foliage 'twixt us cast. And a-sudden by the throat Seized him. Thro' his corselet, coat. Body, swept my lightning blade. He nor cry nor signal made. There I left him. Here's the proof Thou canst no more hang aloof. CUCHULAIN: Blood! Perchance that, too, is feigned. ERC: On, oh, heroes! Naught is gained, Waiting on Cuchulain's doubt. SENCHA: Be convinced, Cuchulain. Out Burst upon our ring of foes! Be thy glorious self. Oppose Hounds that drive thee to the earth. Wilt thou wait till on thy hearth Die these women by the sword. Or are taken Connacht-ward? Thou who drove an army can Beat them downward, man by man. These few estrays that are come Seeking their eternal doom. Be thou guided. Arm! And forth Lead these leaders of the North. 241 CUCHULAIN: Dare ye, men of Ulster, deem That I halt at any stream Deep or wide or thick of blood? Never enemy made good His name at Cuchulain's cost. If I go, then Ulster's lost! Well I know ye are abused; Well I know that fiends are loosed Round about us to deceive; Well I know that wizards weave Spells that Cathba prophesied, Spells that mine own soul have tried; This the day that ends their power. I will budge not tho' the lower Of the storms of hell shall break, Tho' the magic seemings make Charnai house of this our hall. So I answer. Answer all! CONALL: Wheel, oh, heroes! Make we straight Downward to the valley's gate. If a scattered force oppose Only, we can match such foes. If we on an army run We must pierce it, so that one At the least shall hold his way Onward tp Emania; Thence with Red Branch cohorts winging, Rescue or revenge back bringing, Come, close fighting — let none stray To the right or left away! The warriors gather in file and move out. As they pass Cuchulain tliey salute him with re- verted spears. Mighty warrior, matchless chief, We are gone, and gone in grief. Thou the battle call deniest; From the foe the first time fliest; Death can arm no bitterer dart Tho' the point shall pierce my heart. 242 Lightning of the battle cloud, Of thy prowess ever proud, Thro' a thousand fights and raids, Night forays and ambuscades, I have watched thy splendor burning. Blazing forward, unreturning! Now I leave thee dulled and dim By thy self Imagined, grim Horrors halted from the path The best way that glory hath. Farewell, chieftain! Farewell, friend! We that way of duty wend. SENCHA: Sorrow, sorrow — palsying rage More than ache and more than age Weighs upon my faltering limbs. My glazed sight in water swims; Thus, Cuchulain, thus, my son — Leaving you so lost — undone. We will fight. And if we die Rousing in your majesty. From you will this fever fit Pass, and all your doubts with it. Loosened like an avalanche. On the foes of the Red Branch You will follow, you will roll. Body severing from soul. Swift shall come thy blasting breath In requital of our death. ERC: Aye, Cuchulain, ease thy might. Let the graybeards for thee fight. Thou among the women here Best had crouch thee in thy fear. And the word of victory wait That thy fame shall desolate; Or in meekness yield thy hands To thy captors' iron bands. I, thy pupil, was advanced If thine eye upon me glanced 243 When the battle press was on; Thee I worshipped, like a son; Now I tear thee from my heart Coward, we to fight depart! AITHIRNE: Lift the music funeral For the son of Erin's fall. Move we with reverted spears For the death pang of ail years. Weep, oh, Ulster, thro' thy vales, Banba, every height that scales Into heaven's neighborhood, Veil thee in a palled hood; Alba, Scotia and the rest. Mourn the man of men confessed First and foremost, singly best! He has sunken from his place, Lost the headship of his race; All his fame that was, forgot; All his name a hideous blot; For the call was on to save And he cowered as a slave; Let the foemen fight or fly. Hearing not the battle cry. By his own great register, By his glorious deeds that were, Self-condemned, Cuchulain dies. On, heroes, and avert your eyes! The ivarriors pass out. Cuchulain stands in silence. 244 SCENE 7. The ravine hefore the entrance to the Deaf Valley. Vila, Igloia and Eithe. IGLOIA: What seest thou, sister? EITHE: All the glen Filled with trampling, cursing men. Blind, a-wandering in the mist. No thing seen and no way wist. Ha! they beat the air with swords. I courtesy to you, my great lords! IGLOIA: Seest no more? EITHE: I see the house Glooming 'neath its cavern brows. And in fire and torchlight there Ladies many, ladies fair, Moving, peering from the hall. Rising, settling, twittering all. Like a cloud of startled birds, Restless past the reach of words; By the fire Cuchulain sits, The grim master of his wits; And his guardian, watchful eyed Emer, kneels there by his side. IGLOIA: Moves he not all to arm? EITHE: No; contempt for our alarm Is in his eyes and in his mien! IGLOIA: We have beaten, baffled been Thrice before and now again By this conquerer of men. Is there no way to bring him forth? ULLA: Not while Emer has his oath. IGLOIA: Wife defended 'gainst our spell, Is he then invulnerable? 245 ULLA: Emer keeps him. Emer can Drive him forth a maddened man! IGLOIA: What great secret of our art From thine eyes doth peering start? Canst thou, coiling like a snake, Dart thy charms afar to make Flutter nearer and more near The great hero whom we fear? ULLA: No, not that! IGLOIA: What spell will use? ULLA: Strange the weapon I will choose. Must I do it; must v/e kill Cuchulain for forgotten ill? We are hopeless, we are lost — Things frustrated. Will the cost Of his death, of Emer's woe, Make us otherwise than so? IGLOIA: Thou weak child of wizard father Wizard schooled, but choosing rather Woman's heart and woman's wile; Most forlorn on Erin's isle Are we, monsters and abhorred; And the warrior, champion, lord. Thro' whose work we hated go Waits from us the fatal blow; And thou falterest. ULLA: Nay, I'll do It. Quick, the charms that go unto it! IGLOIA: What thy purpose? ULLA: Til assume Emer's form and Emer's bloom. On this wild and withered stalk Shall burst a rose whose breath shall mark The perfume of the garden born. IGLOIA: Crown of wizardry be worn By thee, glory of our race! EITHE: She shall have the highest place! Oh, the merry, laughing plan! 246 ULLA: Come, 'tis time that we began! I must first by Fire-Appearance Of this wreck of flesh make clearance, Ere in perfect semblance I Wear my wifehood royalty. Thou, Igloia, knowst the spell Of the fire seeming miracle. IGLOIA: I can do it. Eithe bring Branches, bushes, everything. Another Belfire make we here, Make our sister's beacon bier. They gather bushes and pile them on TJlla. Rob our former bonfire pile. Borrowing for a little while Fuel that unconsumed may Burn her wizard's weeds away. Enough! Our sister, hidden quite, Waits but for the magic light. Come, thou phosphorescent gleam That is the real fire's dream! Come from rotting logs that smoulder; Come from dark roofed caverns older; Come from will o' wisps that carry Witches' lamps and wanderers harry; Come from balls that light a-mast; Come from Aurora's curtains vast; Come from the sea waves, shimmering field, On this bonfire be revealed! A phosphorescent fire runs through and en- velops the pile of hushes and shows the chang- ing form of TJlla within. So, the crucible is ready. Blaze the coals about it steady! Shredded dross that it doth hold Shall turn to a shape of gold. 'Tis done; the fire dies down — and now To our newborn sister bow. 247 . - . The phosphorescence fades away, leaving the pile as before. Ulla tosses the bushes aside and steps forth in the semblance of Emer. Hail, oh, woman — wedded wife! EITHE: It is Emer to the life! ULLA: Show I fair and glow I sweet, Woman glorious and complete? Is this fall of richest hair, Is this brow of candor, where Crowns might circle, garlands rest, Eyes and mouth and neck and breast. Arms and limbs of flawless mould; Are they all as I foretold? IGLOIA: Thou art perfect counterfeit. Bear thy mind as true deceit; Thou the conqueror must compell; To surrender to thy spell. Let us teach thee — tutor thee For the final victory! ULLA: Tell me nothing; teach me naught! I am woman, and so fraught With all arts a woman needs. Charms by which she best succeeds. Wait here, sisters, watch and wait! Soon from out that tree veiled gate Comes the hermit of his room, Comes Cuchulain to his doom. I go! I go! When next we meet We shall weave his winding sheet. SCENE 8. The same interior as Scene 6. Cuchulain sits near the fireplace ivith Emer kneeling "by him. The women are grouped ahoiit Niam at the en- trance. NUARDA: The mist rolls up in the vale; Sunk has the sound of the strife, Neighing of horses in fright, Clash of armor and spear, Cries as the combatants close; Down to the entrance must move All the mellay of men. Niam, hearest thou aught? NIAM: Only the creaking of firs Sweeping earth with their plumes. NUARDA: We are the echoes of men. Waiting, hanging aloof; Answering only when they Make the original noise. Niam, dost thou not burn To know the way of the fight. Know if our heroes have won? NIAM: Aye, and I will, for at hand Here are my helmet and sword. I will be hero again, Skirmish on outskirts of war. See, Lady Emer, I go To bring thee news of the fray. EMER: Go, good Niam, and find The lost warriors misled. Bring them back to us here. Call, if thou needst our aid. Niam salutes and goes out. Emer comes for- ward to the women. 249 Girls, why do ye withdraw So to such distance from us, Comforting Cuchulain not? Do ye then also believe The wizard voices were real? Dare ye Cuchulain to doubt? NUARDA: Eager, Emer, were I To hold thy hero as high Eminent over all men; But too certain the sounds Come of the conflict to us. Our brothers, our lovers are there. Pray that they may not be dead. A voice, apparently Niam's, suddenly comes from without. THE VOICE: Emer, Emer, come forth, And thy ladies all of them come; Instant help needed here. Oh, the horrible sight! EMER: What, are they wounded perchance? Nearest, Cuchulain, the word? I must bear succor to them. Quick, oh, girls, let us go! Emer and all the loomen rush out. Cuchulain is left alone. CUCHULAIN: Ha! the Druid was right. Nothing stays in one place; No truth eternal can be. See, the dear ones desert! Clouds are inconstant; the moon Alters nightly her face; River and sea surges eat The rock ribbed form of the earth; Leaps the light on these logs; The flames of the fire are upflung, Then fall and flicker away; Such is man's life, such the place 250 Where mansion and home he has made; Yet must there something be sure. The soul must a citadel stand, Or it could not be so besieged, By the ever altering breath, By the whirl of the world without; Somewhere a steadfast thing Must sit in the centre of all, To measure what motions enring, Is it thou? Oh, my soul, art thou part Of the true, of the lasting — the real, A point of the compassing whole, A thought of the Eternal Unmoved? Does He, as thy Captain, as one Of innumerable sentinels, set, Station thee here to have charge Of the hordes of the wavering lights And winds of the wastes of the world? Or does He try thee and test By illusions, phantasies, dreams, Visions of honor and fame, Riches and love and delight, Apparitional all. As the wizards' voices and shows. Does he test thy strength to endure Till he take thee back to himself? I know not; but this I know. That a great glow burns in my frame; Whatever may wander or change. Whoever may dream and desert, I by the guidance I have. The business set me must do; Ulster, Conor must keep. The heroes save from themselves, Defeat the wizard's designs, Meve's great armament shake. This my appointed task, This do I burn to begin When this day of my trial shall end. Enter Ulla in the form of Enter. 251 ULLA: Arm thee, Cuchulain! Arm! CUCHULAIN: What sayest? ULLA: Only thy might Can save us — save all to-day! Go in thy terror — go forth! CUCHULAIN: Thou, thou urgest me forth? ULLA: Back I give thee thy vow; Here is no vision unreal, Lights of the wizard to lure. But war and anguish and death And women's suffering worse. CUCHULAIN: I not believe it. ULLA: Wilt thou Not believe Emer, thy wife? CUCHULAIN: Thou art, haply, deceived! ULLA: Listen, Cuchulain, while I The pitiful horrors recite That have their lair by yon stream. I and my ladies went forth In the writhing folds of the mist. Which as it shifted a space Niam disclosed by the stream; Stretched at her feet in his flood. His gray locks dabbled with blood, Sencha, the counseler lay. CUCHULAIN: Sencha, the old man? Dead! ULLA: Dead, and a little beyond. With a ring of his foeman around, Conall Cearnach sat, Wounded, wounded to death; His harness hacked from his back And his blood thro' a hundred gates Gushing out on the ground. CUCHULAIN: Mighty the masses of men If Conall Cearnach fell! 252 ULLA: The others were not a-near; But echoes of distant fight Eddied up thro' the glen. CUCHULAIN: Ha! the eagles sweep thro' They pierce the press and the cloud! ULLA: Yet, oh, Cuchulain, is time, Thou canst come an unhoped for recruit, And roll back the minions of Meve In hurrying and headlong flight. Quick, I will help. Thy war shoes Kneeling I fasten them on; Buckle thy greaves — O my God, Thou shall wade to thy knees In their blood. Now thy corselet put on. CUCHULAIN: But to-day is the wizards' day! ULLA: What, dost thou halt, dost thou doubt? CUCHULAIN: Where are the women who went Out with thee into the vale? ULLA: Oh, Cuchulain, thy word Brings back the worst woe of all. As with the dying and dead Stood we there by the stream, A foray of fighting men Swept from the trees near at hand. Grainne they seized, and they seized Camma, Nuarda and all The blossoming virgins whose grace Grew protected to make Paradise of our court; Their white arms waved on the wind. Their torn robes clung to the trees, They cried, Cuchulain, on thee. CUCHULAIN: The women! Give me my coat! But thou — how didst thou escape? ULLA: I slipped thro' my captor's hands. Like a bird that bursts from the grasp, I darted into the copse, 253 Trackless turnings I traced So they might not follow me here. CUCHULAIN: This, too, may be but a fit Of the phrenzy the wizards have bred! ULLA: See, Cuchulain. I thought Not to tell of my hurt; To hide from thy dear eyes my wound; See on my shoulders, where torn The robe slips down on my arm, The crimson scratch of the sword Made by the man I outstripped. CUCHULAIN: What, on thy white marble skin Written this sign of the war? Kill they then women, those hounds? Proof, undoubtable proof — Peace. 'Tis enough. I must go. ULLA: Here is thy helmet, my King. Bind I around thee thy belt Bearing the mass of thy sword. Oh, when thou victor return. How will I kiss it and thee? CUCHULAIN: Yet— oh, yet why art thou Eager to usher me out. Who but a brief time ago Tethered me unto thy side? Now thou knowest, as then. That the Evil Ones are at work. The prophesy still in thy ears Rings. What Cathba foretold. That if this day I went forth Ulster and I in one doom Fall — meet a final eclipse. ULLA: Cathbal What could he foreknow Of the war that would follow us here? These are not phantoms, oh, chief. Real were the horses and men Ere saw first in this vale; Real was the blood Conall brought 264 Dripping back on his blade; Real are those heroes who lie Pavilioned under the trees In the state of a glorious bed; Real was the rape of my train; Real is this scar on my flesh. Oh, oh, wilt not believe — Believe and battleward rush! CUCHULAIN: Puts aside his helmet and seats himself again. Emer, did I not know Thee to the innermost core, Count every drop of thy blood, Perfect, passionate, pure, Now would I deem on my soul Thou hadst withdrawn and become An emissary of Meve — A traitor who from within Opens the citadel's gates. But no — thou too art deceived. UlLA: Alas! Oh, my husband, that thou By the breath of the birth of a thought, Ever my truth should distrust. I am thine, body and soul. And would thine honor uphold; Think when blown is abroad This day's rumor, report. The heroes' defense and defeat, Unhelped by the sword of their chief, The theft of the glorious girls, Emania's circlet of gems, To be booty for ruffians and slaves By the household fires of our foes; Think how all Erin will scorn; Think what a hissing will be! CUCHULAIN: Ha! Now surely I see Thou dost design me for death. Who, oh, Emer dost choose Me to succeed in thy bed? 265 Is it the boy warrior Ere, Blazing unseasoned in wrath, Spitting and crackling away? Is it the golden locked bard, Blue-eyed Aithirne; above All men in beauty and grace Bearing — the woman amid — But with the tongue of a wasp, Venomous, worse than a sword? Which of these hopest thou to have Locked in thy closest embrace When I am vanished from earth? ULLA: Oh, the injurious word Stabbing straight to the heart That Is home of thy image alone! Here I give up, resign Hope of all human help. Let the foeman come and o'ercome. Me at least they shall not Take for their triumph away. Take for the tyrannous arms Of some lustful chief of Connacht; Here I will die at thy feet. Where I fling me repentant adown. Oh, Cuchulain, forgive My foolish will that in aught Opposed thy wiser designs. With my tears, with the flood of my hair Bathe I and cover thy feet. I cling to thy knees nor more high Claim to place me in pride — My hero — my god — forgive! CUCHULAIN: What, Emer— shaken with sobs. Wasting in torrents of tears! Come, girl, nothing I meant Of the hot words that leaped from my tongue. I know thee true as the sword That is thy rival alone. Still dost thou, weeping, dissolve? 256 Oh, how rich is thine hair In the brown breaking fall of its mass — Dusk and light twisted in it! And the gleam of thy shoulders' white mould Maddens my blood for a kiss. Yes, thou art true — thou art true — And it follows — it crowds on my mind, What I took for phantoms were facts: The voices, the conflict, the deaths, Thy capture and flight in the vale. I, I, it is who, deceived, Have hugged me here by my hearth, While the blood of my eagles of war Were vainly wasted for me; While on my wife and the maids Dishonor hovered and fell. Well, oh, well now I see The plot of the wizards unveil; My life they assai.ed not, but threw Fancies on me till I should Hesitate, haggle and halt, While my name went down to its death, To the damning depths of its shame. Thrice infernal design! But there is time — there is time. Release me, Emer. I go! ULLA: Go not! Go not, my love! Let us rather here die When the foeman find us at last. In each others' harboring arms! CUCHULAIN: (Who frees himself and assumes his helmet and weapons). If, as must be, that without Foeman my coming await. Let them run to their wives. Let them prattle of death. Farewell, Emer. Farewell. He goes out. ULLA: And I — I have won — I have won! 257 SCENE 9. A folding of the Deaf Valley just within the entrance. Enter Cuchulain in his chariot driven hy Laeg. LAEG: Here are no enemies yet! CUCHULAIN: Drive on. Soon will they be met! LAEG: The dead that strewed all the ground, Nor man nor horse have we found! CUCHULAIN: Ha! Thinkst thou the wizards would leave Such proofs when they wish to deceive? LAEG: May I speak, Cuchulain, my mind? You were better when deaf and blind; When you doubted all you were right; You were bravest refusing to fight. CUCHULAIN: Drive on! Knowst not that that thing Was the wizards' ov^^n ordering, For they made me doubt, as thou saith, And delivered my name unto death. LAEG: But the omens? The brooch thou letst fall, Piercing foot thro' thy war shoes and all. CUCHULAIN: An omen! A chance happened thing! LAEG: But the bird with the ominous wing Who thrice flung into thy face? CUCHULAIN: Or of any went thro' this place! LAEG: But Liath, the great gray war horse. Refused to run on his course. And no bridle or harness would take! CUCHULAIN: He came to my call when I spake! LAEG: Ah, yes. But two tears of blood Dropped down on his feet where he stood! 258 CUCHULAIN: Drive en. The fee while we prate Laughs long at the chief who lags late! The real Emer rushes in and flings herself upon Cuchulain in the chariot. EMER: At last! Cuchulain, have I found Thee in this enchanted ground? Oh, again to see thy face Lighting up this lonely place; I have wandered terrified Since fool like I left thy side. CUCHULAIN: Left my side! Why, I left thee In the house, hidden — safe and free. EMER: How! But what dost here, my King, Where this vale has entering, Armed and ready to go forth? H^st forgot thy pledged oath? CUCHULAIN: Thy wits wander! I am come By thee armed and sent from home. To retrieve my injured name. Back, my girl, from v/hence you came. EMER: I not understand thee. But The day's gates are not yet shut When the wizards, thee pursuing. Power have for thy undoing. Turn thee, turn — Cuchulain, back; Ruin, deal., are on this track! CUCHULAIN: Ever a wom.an's mind is thus Still altering — still imperious; Even inept to grasp the whole Or drive straight onward to a goal; Changing with all the winds that blow; Firm, feeble, fluttering to and fro; The men that take them for a guide Like the sea drifted wreckage ride^ — Emer, enough — no time have I To read thy riddle augury. 259 EMER: I seize thy horse's head. Retreat! Or drag me down beneath his feet. I thy oath claim. Wilt to death Ride with promise breaking breath? CUCHULAIN: Springing from his chariot. What meanest, woman? Scarce the air Smoothes its ruffled waves that bear Echoes of thy thrilling speech. Thou gavest back my word. And each Theme, term, word, action, eloquent Used, till I rose and armed and went Out on my flaming way of wrath. Now risest thou upon my path With looks of falsehood, words foresworn. Wouldst give me to my foeman's scorn? EMER: I was false, ah, false, indeed, That I left thee in thy need, Rushing out a help to bear To the wounded I thought there: Scarce a dozen steps I made Down into that grassy glade, But a mist rose, separating Me from those upon me waiting; A moment, their voices heard I clear, Calling round me here and there. Then they died. I was alone, 'Mid the writhing mist wind blown. Fantastic forms, fantastic shapes — Islands, mountains, jutting capes. Lakelets rippled over and Moonlight mirage of a strand Strewn with ships with sloped decks. Great, majestic, blackened wrecks — Rose about me. But, far worse, Came such things as under curse Live — great snakelike dragons, reared; Flying these, still worse I feared, 260 For a maned lion there With great eyes did on me glare; Then a bear with sidelong look Glided by me down a brook; Flying, stumbling, flung on face, Crawling, falling thro' great space, As one labors in a dream Went I hours — It might seem; Till the sun a little made Entry on this entrance glade, And I saw thee standing, great In thy harness facing Fate; Reached thee, clung to thee and will Leave thee not again until Thou thy purpose shall resign — Cathba oath I claim and mine! CUCHULAIN: Thou didst dream, and dreams still sway Thy mind, that overstrained, gives way. Think, girl, recall thy recent acts, The true throng of the real facts; The dead warriors and thy train Reft and to dishonor ta'en; The crimson scar upon thy arm — Think how thou broughtst me the alarm And armed and urged me on to fight. My nam.e to save from evil plight. How thou didst weep within my arms, Queen of all distressed charms. Wake, girl — remember — let me go; The flying moments help the foe. EMER: Has some woman with thee been Since mine eyes thy face has seen? CUCHULAIN: Thou, thyself— thou knowst it well, Tho' it suits thy changeable Mind, some other tale to feign, Did solely by my side remain. EMER: Thou, then it is art false — to me As to our realm's security. 261 Thou hast kissed another face, Hast felt another's arms embrace. Woe, Cuchulain — to become Disloyal in the face of doom. CUCHULAIN: Thou art surely Folly's fool So to chide and so to school. EMER: Ha! Cuchulain, now I see Some fiend has ta'en the form of m.e: One of those things to thee revealed In the beryl's blazing field. Fearful form with hardly hint Of a woman's presence in 't; That it is has thee beguiled, Filling my absence with a filed And forged phantom of my form, While I went thro' the wiidered storm. CUCHULAIN: Then, thou, thyself the phantom art. Thou vulture preying on my heart, Rising in feigned shape on my path To save thy minions from my wrath. Base enchantress! Bloody witch! I see now the presence rich Of the wife who is my pride, Like a garment from thy side Slipping, fading. Thou dost stand Demon of a demon land; Thine eyes dart a snakelike gleam; Snakelike thy coiled tresses seem; What thy body who can tell? Vacant — blasted — horrible; Out my sword and end this act; The fiend is taken in the fact! He draws his sword and maizes to kill Emer. EMER: Oh, Cuchulain, not my life; I am Emer; am thy wife! CUCHULAIN: Thou art fiend of darkest hell, Showing fierce and foul and feli 282 Through the white frame of my love! Yet my hands refuse to move. Thee I cannot, dare not kill Though thou art incarnate ill — Sacred by the garb thou wearest Of the woman form that's fairest — Go! In distance work and plot, But in sword length venture not! EMER: Oh, my master! Oh, my lord! I not fear thy frighting sword. Look, look deep into my eyes! Canst thou not there recognize All the love that, always ready, Blazed to light thee! beacon steady. They are kingdoms where alone Thou unrivalled keptst thy throne. Never thought or image rude Of another did intrude. Throw me not off, but believe Thy wife in thy arms does grieve. CUCHULAIN: Wells thine eyes are where must drown Who from the brink there gazes down. ' Luring looks and siren signs Hide thy desperate designs. I slay thee not, thou thing of evil, But know thee — woman varnished devil! EMER: How, how may I thee awake. And this nev/ enchantment break. Back thy looks, Cuchulain, cast; Let me call again the past. I remember how one came, Lord of all the fields of fame, To my father's court and there I, half hidden by the stair, Saw and felt and knew my king; And leaning forth, a bauble thing. Brooch or amulet, I hung On the great arm so near me flung! 263 I remember that same night, Lucent with the moon's delight, How thro' the guarded casement I Put forth my naked arm to be Smothered in kisses utterly! I remember a bridal bed Where, when night had almost fled, One arose and took a torch, Blazing in the outer porch. And held it long above his prize Full revealed to his eyes — How, Cuchulain, could I have Secrets such as these are, save I thy very Emer were? Dear, relax thy fixed stare. CUCHULAIN: Oh, this weltering world of lies Thou art she! Such memories Prove it out of use of faith, Save thou art a wizard wraith So unfathomably deep. That all mysteries in thee sleep. Yet who was that Emer then Of the house within the glen; With her drifted hair — and sobs — With her warm heart human throbs? She urged me my name to keep. You urge me in sloth to sleep. Hers the best course! Hers I choose! Thine I thrust back and refuse, rif not hurt thee — but be gone — Thou hast played and lost and done. A great noise of combat is heard. The wiz- ards light their lyonfire without the valley and the light of it rolls up through the trees. The madness comes anew upon Cuchulain. Hark! the battle clamor's near! Shrilling trumpets, clashing gear; Sounds of charge and cries of strife; Wounded wailing out their life; 264 Ha! my eyes are clear again, And I see a circling plain, Richest of the green robed lands. And in the midst Emania stands! Ho, the plain is full of fight! Ho, the Red Branch crests in flight Give before the hordes of Meve. Conor dies and none to save; Conall for a space makes good The breach in the Red Brotherhood, Then goes down deep buried; Ere half checks the battle's course. Whirled away by foot and horse; Cathba, with white streaming hair. Flies o'er the field, now here, now there, Calling, praying, prophesying, Rousing up the dead and dying; Ha! Feircetne singing goes. Cutting thro' the main of foes; All the chiefs are there save one — Blush, Cuchulain, blush alone. Thou art worse than overthrown. Now the walls they overwhelm. Taken is our radiant realm; And the torches quick are plied. Blaze the piles on every side. The great Variegated House Ruddier yet in splendor grows. Hark! the armor on it hanging Down upon the pave is clanging! Now the House of the Red Branch Crashes like an avalanche. And the flames from it upflung Climb and camp the stars among. Other houses, palaces As these, darken, break ablaze. See my Crystal House is lit! Writhing lines creep over it, Every timber, every beam. Outlined in the fire doth seem, 265 Like the fretwork winter sees On the ice entangled trees. Now it blazes to the core, Furnace fed with golden ore, For there heaped are my war spoils, All the earnings of my toils; There my banquet board of mirth, The sacred precincts of my hearth. All are gone — are gone — are gone! Meve! Revenge! Death! Ruin! Scorn! He staggers to Ms chariot. Emer flings her- self upon him. EMER: Kill, Cuchuiain, kill me here. But front not this enchanted fear! The wizards win upon us both, But cheat them. King! Respect thine oath. Cuchuiain flings her from him so that she falls insensible on the ground. He mounts his chariot. CUCHULAIN: Lie there thou dark and dangerous thing That kept me from the warrior's ring. On, Laeg — drive! One strife Is done. But Ulster may again be won. Exeunt. SCENE 10. Night on a vast plain. Enter Conall Cearnach, Cathha and Feircetne with a party of Red Branch Knights. Their armor and plumes gleam and shake in the light of the torches they carry. CONALL: We wander in the night amissi CATHBA: Moy Muirtheimne's plain is this! CONALL: Straight the track, then. Straight he went Unto Meve's great armament. CATHBA: Ha! I stumble! Look, a corse! Another! Fallen by his horse. FEIRCETNE: Thick and thicker grow they here, Lifeless as the withered, sere Leaves that choke an autumn glen! Distorted and dismembered men, Horses cold! In harvest reaped Here war's sheaves are closely heaped. CONALL: Group the torches! Let me know Face and armor. 'Tis the foe! Here's the eagle's track at last! Down this way Cuchulain passed. Kite and crow and raven he Struck in one great victory. CATHBA: Scatter! Search the field about. Let your torches, blushing red, Flare in the faces of the dead. They move about with their torches, tdr cetne calls from the centre of the field. FEIRCETNE: Cathba, come! 267 CONALL: What hast thou found? FEIRCETNE: In the field's centre is a mound! CONALL: What else? FEIRCETNE: More dead and ever more, Like rocks that some steep summit shore Until they jut and topple o'er. CONALL: Cuchulain's sign! Cuchulaln's mark! FEIRCETNE: Ah, me! CONALL: What seest thou? FEIRCETNE: Cathba, hark! Conall, prepare thy soul! Draw near! On the mound's crest, a charioteer Lies at a warrior's feet, whose stay Is a dead war horse, great and gray: With head drooped forward, sword on knee. On his last battle throne sits he. CONALL: Thou darest not say it! FEIRCETNE: Ah, what mouth Of Erin dare — or North or South? CONALL: Hither the torches! Boy, give place! Ha! rather were I face to face With my own Fate and final woe Than confront Cuchulain so. Lift thy head, friend. Lo! Thy eyes, Orbs that will read no auguries, Fire my heart. Now, by the gods. Red Branch Knights outflare your swords, Swear, swear, to follow me, and slake Deep in blood our heart's long ache! Swear to chase that flying wrack From this dead face driven back! Till, where their flaming houses rise, We offer them a sacrifice. Follow, Conall Cearnach! Come! Vengeance, slaughter, drive we home! 268 CATHBA: Halt, oh, Conall! First is due Honor to the great and true. Warriors of the Red Branch House, Death is now your champion's spouse. Take him up with gentle touch, The great one wearied overmuch; Let him on your linked shields Take repose from all his fields: With your crimson cloaks o'ercover His torn body crimsoned over. By his side, around, ahead. Lights for the pathway of the dead! So! March on. And, poet, raise Song of triumph, song of praise. FEIRCETNE: Slaughtered host and slaughtered King Lie in one vast battle ring. From his final field of fame Bear the matchless form of flame! Largest of our lordly line Bear him to Emania's shrine. Last of the immortal clan, The Tuartha de Danaan, Bear him past the mountain gates Where his vanished godsire waits! Ulster weep, thy champion slain, Guard of thy sky-domed domain. Thou no citadel or wall Built — thou needed none at all — When, a glancing armament. He about thy borders went: Floods of foes that round him welled. Baffled, backward, down, he quelled! Erin weep, thy hero gone, Unto Alba, Britain known, Known to Pict and known to Dane, Famous o'er the ocean plain — Weep, but triumph! For he shall Blaze above Death's blackest pall. Islands of remotest reach, Utmost lands of unknown speech, Races hid in Time's far womb, Unto these he shall untomb, Shall revealed in splendor stand The glory of his native land. Tongue of poet, hero heart. Till from the dry earth those depart. Shall echo ever, ever name Cuchulain's deeds, Cuchulain's fame. Z70 muL LBAg'05 CHARLES LEONARD MOORE 1402 ^00^ "^^ "■>/> .-A <^^ :MiA^'^ ^^^' "^^:- -0^ ,0o o./.^^^O^/" *- ^^ v^ Oo o^ „ V . „ , % ' - - • ^x^\ . . . , ,>^ * = ~ » ' /■ ^. ■^ /'\ ,^V ^^ ^^ V 'O ^^"^^^^^^^"'^0"^ ..'^^ Oo W\ - ^^^'