 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
THE WOLF-GIRL.
[_]
This legend is current, in some form, in all the northern countries of Europe, and similar stories may be found in the folk-lore of the East. In some cases, the enchanted woman takes the form of a serpent or a dragon; and, in others, is hideously scarred, or otherwise repulsively deformed. It is always a kiss, generally the third given, which breaks the charm and restores the victim to her original beauty. Occasionally, the sex is reversed, as in the instances of Beauty and the Beast, or the Brown Bear of Norway. In these last, however, it is positive affection, and not the mere semblance of it, which works the deliverance. There is a characteristic anachronism in the usual Irish legend which introduces a Christian priest to perform the marriage service, although the Fianna were undoubtedly Pagans, and their last chief, Fionn MacCumhail, was slain more than five centuries before the advent of St. Patrick. Filial affection, like a respect for female purity, holding so high a place among the ancient Irish—and in that respect the race has not degenerated—I have chosen to effect the release of the father through the self-sacrificing effort of the son.
The Fianna sat at a banquet there,
From ovens drawn the heath,
And heaped on platters huge the meats
That steaming lay beneath—
The mighty joints of cattle black,
Leaf-wrapped the lake-caught fish;
While bowls of meadh went circling round
For those who drink might wish.
From ovens drawn the heath,
And heaped on platters huge the meats
That steaming lay beneath—
The mighty joints of cattle black,
Leaf-wrapped the lake-caught fish;
While bowls of meadh went circling round
For those who drink might wish.
Foul-mouthed, bald-headed Conan sought
By coarsest jests to glean
Some scattered grains of thoughtless mirth—
“Where now,” he cried, “is Fionn?
Some damsel lures our grey-haired chief
From comradeship to stray;
And makes him laggard at the feast,
Who still is first at fray.
By coarsest jests to glean
Some scattered grains of thoughtless mirth—
“Where now,” he cried, “is Fionn?
Some damsel lures our grey-haired chief
From comradeship to stray;
And makes him laggard at the feast,
Who still is first at fray.
27
“We miss our Diarmuid much to-day;
His sword was of the best;
And well as that his hand could wield,
His tongue could hurl a jest;
But now, with much of meat and meadh,
The Fianna all are dumb;
And even peerless Oscur here
Is long of face and glum.”
His sword was of the best;
And well as that his hand could wield,
His tongue could hurl a jest;
But now, with much of meat and meadh,
The Fianna all are dumb;
And even peerless Oscur here
Is long of face and glum.”
“Be silent, ribald!” Oscur said;
“Such gibes are out of place;
I have a cause for looks forlorn;
Your words are scant of grace.
Life gloomy seems as here I sit,
For eighteen years to-day
Have passed since Lir, the Druid vile,
Stole Aebh, my child, away.
“Such gibes are out of place;
I have a cause for looks forlorn;
Your words are scant of grace.
Life gloomy seems as here I sit,
For eighteen years to-day
Have passed since Lir, the Druid vile,
Stole Aebh, my child, away.
“Pursuit was made, but all in vain;
We searched the country round;
None know if she be living or dead;
No trace of her was found;
This day each year my soul is sad,
The sunbeams give no light;
I feel no pleasure in the feast,
No longing for the fight.”
We searched the country round;
None know if she be living or dead;
No trace of her was found;
This day each year my soul is sad,
The sunbeams give no light;
I feel no pleasure in the feast,
No longing for the fight.”
There as he spake came slowly Fionn,
With faint and tottering pace,
And grimly beckoned Oisin then,
And drew him from the place.
A gloom came over all around,
Even Conan had no word,
As earnestly and silently
The son and sire conferred.
With faint and tottering pace,
And grimly beckoned Oisin then,
And drew him from the place.
A gloom came over all around,
Even Conan had no word,
As earnestly and silently
The son and sire conferred.
28
“My son,” said Fionn, “your sire is weak,
Nor could his life to save
Find needed force to hurl the spear,
Or strength to wield the glaive.”
“Whence comes such weakness,” Oisin asked,
“Oh, sire, and chief of men?”
“I fell this morn within her power,
The Wolf-Girl of the Glen.”
Nor could his life to save
Find needed force to hurl the spear,
Or strength to wield the glaive.”
“Whence comes such weakness,” Oisin asked,
“Oh, sire, and chief of men?”
“I fell this morn within her power,
The Wolf-Girl of the Glen.”
O'erspread with pallor Oisin's face,
As Fionn rehearsed the tale—
“She met me at the pile of rocks
Before the Glann-na-Gael.
I strove to spurn the wretched thing,
And bade her from me flee;
She only growled and bared her fangs,
And spake these words to me:
As Fionn rehearsed the tale—
“She met me at the pile of rocks
Before the Glann-na-Gael.
I strove to spurn the wretched thing,
And bade her from me flee;
She only growled and bared her fangs,
And spake these words to me:
“‘Henceforth no strength be in your frame,
No courage in your heart;
A beardless stripling in the fight
Shall play a manlier part.
Henceforward pointless be your spear,
And dull of edge your sword,
Till I am wedded by your son,
Despite my form abhorred.’
No courage in your heart;
A beardless stripling in the fight
Shall play a manlier part.
Henceforward pointless be your spear,
And dull of edge your sword,
Till I am wedded by your son,
Despite my form abhorred.’
“Her curse has struck; a weakling now,
To exile hence I go.”
He turned, but Oisin stayed his steps—
“No, father dear, not so!
Sweet Saebh, my mother, was your wife;
Here with our comrades stay;
And have a priest ere I return,
For Oisin weds to-day.”
To exile hence I go.”
He turned, but Oisin stayed his steps—
“No, father dear, not so!
Sweet Saebh, my mother, was your wife;
Here with our comrades stay;
And have a priest ere I return,
For Oisin weds to-day.”
29
Forth Oisin strode to Glenn-na-Gael,
And at its mouth beheld
A woman of such fearful mien,
That horror she compelled.
She lacked not grace, though clad in rags,
And moved with supple limb;
But on her neck and shoulders wore
A wolf's head, fierce and grim.
And at its mouth beheld
A woman of such fearful mien,
That horror she compelled.
She lacked not grace, though clad in rags,
And moved with supple limb;
But on her neck and shoulders wore
A wolf's head, fierce and grim.
The jaws were strong and told of blood,
The fangs were long and white,
Out lolled the red and dripping tongue—
It was a loathly sight;
But when the Wolf-Girl spake, the voice,
To Oisin's great surprise,
Was gentle, sweet and tender-toned,
Despite those cruel eyes.
The fangs were long and white,
Out lolled the red and dripping tongue—
It was a loathly sight;
But when the Wolf-Girl spake, the voice,
To Oisin's great surprise,
Was gentle, sweet and tender-toned,
Despite those cruel eyes.
“What seeks young Oisin here,” she asked,
“Since Oisin it must be,
For one so loathly to the eye,
None else would care to see?
You love me not, you could not love—
You're coming here alone
To free a father from the spell
By magic o'er him thrown.”
“Since Oisin it must be,
For one so loathly to the eye,
None else would care to see?
You love me not, you could not love—
You're coming here alone
To free a father from the spell
By magic o'er him thrown.”
“I come,” said Oisin, shuddering,
“To do as you demand;
It is not love or heart you seek;
You ask, I give my hand.
I swear to wed with you before
The Fianna all to-day,
And what so geasa you impose
Will faithfully obey.”
“To do as you demand;
It is not love or heart you seek;
You ask, I give my hand.
I swear to wed with you before
The Fianna all to-day,
And what so geasa you impose
Will faithfully obey.”
30
A hideous sight that wolfish head,
A thing to scare and harm;
Yet, as the tears fell from her eyes,
He felt a secret charm;
Such gentle way, such silvery tones,
Such lithe and subtle grace—
Alas! to find them illy joined
To such a loathly face.
A thing to scare and harm;
Yet, as the tears fell from her eyes,
He felt a secret charm;
Such gentle way, such silvery tones,
Such lithe and subtle grace—
Alas! to find them illy joined
To such a loathly face.
He took her gently by the hand,
And wondered at the sight—
A woman with a head so foul,
And hands so fair and white.
But ere with fitting courtesy
The Wolf-Girl thence was led,
She paused, and to the listening youth,
In gentle tones she said:
And wondered at the sight—
A woman with a head so foul,
And hands so fair and white.
But ere with fitting courtesy
The Wolf-Girl thence was led,
She paused, and to the listening youth,
In gentle tones she said:
“As soon as we shall wedded be,
My first and sole command—
You bow to east and west and north,
And kiss me on each hand:
And then, despite these fangs and lips,
Lout lowly to the south,
Then clasp your arm around my waist,
And kiss me on the mouth.
My first and sole command—
You bow to east and west and north,
And kiss me on each hand:
And then, despite these fangs and lips,
Lout lowly to the south,
Then clasp your arm around my waist,
And kiss me on the mouth.
“For thus and thus, and thus alone,
You break the potent spell,
That from the Druid's wrath through me
Upon your father fell;
And thus and thus, and thus alone,
You may another free,
If, where the Fiannan heroes are,
You give me kisses three.”
You break the potent spell,
That from the Druid's wrath through me
Upon your father fell;
And thus and thus, and thus alone,
You may another free,
If, where the Fiannan heroes are,
You give me kisses three.”
31
They came to where the Fianna sat;
The priest was waiting there,
While weakling Fionn far sat apart,
With dull and gloomy air.
Quoth Conan, with a grin: “Such bride
No bridegroom dare abuse;
Some wives have ready finger-nails,
But this her teeth might use.”
The priest was waiting there,
While weakling Fionn far sat apart,
With dull and gloomy air.
Quoth Conan, with a grin: “Such bride
No bridegroom dare abuse;
Some wives have ready finger-nails,
But this her teeth might use.”
Amazed the stout companions all
When Oisin stood beside,
As blithe as though her face were fair,
His weird and fearful bride;
And heard him tell the trembling priest
To speed the nuptial rite,
With voice as gay as though such fere
Would be his heart's delight.
When Oisin stood beside,
As blithe as though her face were fair,
His weird and fearful bride;
And heard him tell the trembling priest
To speed the nuptial rite,
With voice as gay as though such fere
Would be his heart's delight.
With mistletoe and mystic sign,
The priest had made them one;
But still the Fianna silent sat
When all was featly done,
And no one dared salute the bride;
Even Conan made a pause
Before those wild and cruel eyes,
Those fanged and bony jaws.
The priest had made them one;
But still the Fianna silent sat
When all was featly done,
And no one dared salute the bride;
Even Conan made a pause
Before those wild and cruel eyes,
Those fanged and bony jaws.
But Oisin there, before them all,
Bowed north and east and west,
And fearlessly his shuddering lips
Upon her hands he pressed;
A tremulous motion shook the bride;
He bowed him to the south,
Then clasped his arms around her waist,
And kissed her on the mouth.
Bowed north and east and west,
And fearlessly his shuddering lips
Upon her hands he pressed;
A tremulous motion shook the bride;
He bowed him to the south,
Then clasped his arms around her waist,
And kissed her on the mouth.
32
A thrill ran through the comrades here—
What wondrous thing was this?
What transformation strange had come
Upon that triple kiss?
To silk, bedecked with jewels bright,
Changed were the rags she wore;
And she, as lovely as the dawn,
A Wolf-Girl now no more.
What wondrous thing was this?
What transformation strange had come
Upon that triple kiss?
To silk, bedecked with jewels bright,
Changed were the rags she wore;
And she, as lovely as the dawn,
A Wolf-Girl now no more.
In speechless rapture Oisin stood;
Cried Oscur as he rose:
“Oh, Una's living image! come
To bless my life-time's close!
Speak! tell me who you are, fair bride!”
She knelt at Oscur's knee—
“One time the Druid stole me. Aebh,
Your daughter—I am she!”
Cried Oscur as he rose:
“Oh, Una's living image! come
To bless my life-time's close!
Speak! tell me who you are, fair bride!”
She knelt at Oscur's knee—
“One time the Druid stole me. Aebh,
Your daughter—I am she!”
Sprang Fionn to feet with lusty bound,
His olden strength returned;
New vigor filled his stalwart frame;
New fire within him burned.
He backward drew his ponderous spear
And hurled it at an oak;
The spear-head found the hither side,
The shaft in splinters broke.
His olden strength returned;
New vigor filled his stalwart frame;
New fire within him burned.
He backward drew his ponderous spear
And hurled it at an oak;
The spear-head found the hither side,
The shaft in splinters broke.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |