IX. [Thou askest, fair daughter of the isles!]
Thou askest, fair daughter of the isles!
Thou askest, fair daughter of the isles! whose memory is
preserved in these tombs? The memory of Ronnan the bold,
and Connan the chief of men; and of her, the fairest of maids,
Rivine the lovely and the good. The wing of time is laden
with care. Every moment hath woes of its own. Why seek
we our grief from afar! or give our tears to those of other
times? But thou commandest, and I obey, O fair daughter of
the isles!
Conar was mighty in war. Caul was the friend of strangers.
His gates were open to all; midnight darkened not on his barred
door. Both lived upon the sons of the mountains. Their
bow was the support of the poor.
Connan was the image of Conar's soul. Caul was renewed
in Ronnan his son. Rivine the daughter of Conar was the love
of Ronnan; her brother Connan was his friend. She was fair
as the harvest moon setting in the seas of Molochasquir. Her
soul was settled on Ronnan; the youth was the dream of her
nights.
Rivine, my love! says Ronnan, I go to my king in Norway.
A year and a day shall bring me back. Wilt thou be true to
Ronnan?
Ronnan! a year and a day I will spend in sorrow. Ronnan,
behave like a man, and my soul shall exult in thy valour.
Connan my friend, says Ronnan, wilt thou preserve Rivine thy
sister? Durstan is in love with the maid; and soon shall the
sea bring the stranger to our coast.
Ronnan, I will defend: Do thou securely go. He went.
He returned on his day. But Durstan returned before him.
Give me thy daughter, Conar, says Durstan; or fear and
feel my power.
He who dares attempt my sister, says Connan, must meet
this edge of steel. Unerring in battle is my arm: my sword,
as the lightning of heaven.
Ronnan the warrior came; and much he threatened Durstan.
But, saith Euran the servant of gold, Ronnan! by the gate
of the north shall Durstan this night carry thy fair one away.
Accursed, answers Ronnan, be this arm if death meet him not
there.
Connan! saith Euran, this night shall the stranger carry thy
sister away. My sword shall meet him, replies Connan, and he
shall lie low on earth.
The friends met by night, and they fought. Blood and sweat
ran down their limbs as water on the mossy rock. Connan falls;
and cries, O Durstan, be favourable to Rivine! And is it my
friend, cries Ronnan, I have slain? O Connan! I knew thee
not.
He went, and he fought with Durstan. Day began to rise
on the combat, when fainting they fell, and expired. Rivine
came out with the morn; and, O what detains my Ronnan!
She saw him lying pale in his blood; and her brother lying
pale by his side. What could she say? what could she do?
her complaints were many and vain. She opened this grave for
the warriors; and fell into it herself, before it was closed; like
the sun snatched away in a storm.
Thou has heard this tale of grief, O fair daughter of the isles!
Rivine was fair as thyself: shed on her grave a tear.
