University of Virginia Library

THE Hosting here of Congal Claen. 'Twas loud-lark-carolling May
When Congal, as the lark elate, and radiant as the day,
Rode forth from steep Rath-Keltar gate: nor marvel that the King
Should share the solace of the skies, and gladness of the spring,
For from her high sun-harbouring bower the fortress gate above
The loveliest lady of the North looked down on him with love.

“Adieu, sweet heart; a short adieu; in seven days hence,” he cried,
“Expect me at your portals back to claim my promised bride.
“My heart at last has full content: my love's acceptance heals
“All wounds of Fortune: what although Malodhar Macha steals,
“By Domnal's false arbitrament, my tributes and my land,
“Nor he nor sovereign Domnal's self can steal Lafinda's hand.
“Then forward, youths, for Dunangay; this royal banquet sped
“That binds our truce, remains no more but straightway back, and wed.”

On went the royal cavalcade, a goodly sight to see,
As westward, o'er the Land of Light, they swept the flowery lea;
Each shining hoof of every steed upcasting high behind
The gay green turf in thymy tufts that scented all the wind,
While, crossing at the coursers' heads with intersecting bounds,
As swift as skimming swallows played the joyous barking hounds.

First of the fleet resplendent band, the hero Congal rode;
Dark shone the mighty-chested steed his shapely thigh bestrode;
Dark, too, at times, his own brow showed that all his lover's air
But mantled with a passing light the gloom of inward care.
Beside him, on a bay-bright steed, in yellow garb arrayed,
Rode Sweeny, King of Dalaray, the brother of the maid;
Attendant on his other hand, with eye that never ceased
Obsequious watch, came Garrad Gann, the envoy of the feast;
A troop of gallant youths behind: 'twas glorious to behold
The coursers' motions and the flow of graceful forms and gold.

So rode they, till, the flowery plain and bushy upland pass'd,
They came at noon where, o'er the woods, Ben-Borcha's barriers vast
Rose in mid-sky: here, where the road divided, at the bourne
That meared the country of the Lord of gloomy-mountain'd Mourne,
Kellach the Halt, the heroes met, in middle of the way,
The Master of the Schools of Mourne, the Arch-Bard Ardan; they
Alighting made him reverence meet; and Ardan from his car
Descending, kissed the King and said,

“Dear youths, ye welcome are
“To Kellach's country. Congal Claen, thine uncle's herald, I
“In virtue of the Red-Branch bond, beseech thy courtesy
“This day to rest and feast with him.”

“From knight to knight,” replied
King Congal, “'tis a just request, and ill to be denied.”

“Worse to be granted,” Garrad said: “to Domnal reconciled,
“Behoves thee that thou rather shun one not the Church's child;
“And, for his bond of brotherhood, a like request was made
“Once, with small good to guest or host, when fraudful Barach stayed
“With fatal feasts the son of Roy, and from his plighted charge
“Detained him in Dunseverick hall, while Conor, left at large
“To deal as lust or hate might prompt with those who on the faith
“Of weak MacRoy's safe-conduct came, did Usnach's sons to death.”

“Conor Mac Nessa,” said the Bard, “when first he sent to spy
“Clan Usnach, where they sat at chess in Creeve-Roe's sanctuary,
“Chose for his messenger a nurse, who, straight returning, told
“The pious falsehood that the Queen was faded grown, and old:
“When, hot with wine, a second time the lustful tyrant sent
“To see if Deirdre's beauty still lived on her, his intent
“Being to break his guarantees, he for that errand base
“Chose, as the fittest man of all his minions there in place,
“A Northman herald; and that spy brought back the wicked word
“Of Deirdre's beauty unimpaired, which hearing at his board,
“The King, despite his bard's rebuke, from doomed Emania's hall
“Went forth and did the sacrilege that wrought his kingdom's fall.
“Wherefore it seems to me this tale of Usnach's children now
“Sounds not well-timed to such as we, from such a one as thou,
“Oh Northman herald: but, oh King, I lay thee as before
“In knighthood's bonds, thou pass not by thy father's brother's door.”

Said Congal: “If the son of Roy to this constraining tie
“Yielded, though charged with mighty cares, great blame it were if I,
“Who, unlike Fergus, journey forth with neither charge nor care,
“Should shun my knightly kinsman's cheer with loyal mind to share.”

And, climbing by the Poet's side, they took the left-hand road,
And through the gap of mountain sought the aged Chief's abode.

Far on the steep gap's further side, a rugged tract they found,
With barren breasts of murky hills and crags encompassed round:
A hollow sound of blustering winds was from the margin sent,
A river down the middle space with mighty tumult went;
And still, as further on they fared, the torrent swifter flowed,
And mightier and murkier still the circling mountains showed;
A dreadful desert as it seemed: till Congal was aware
Of divers goodly-visaged men and youths resorting there.
Some by the flood-side lonely walked; and other some were seen
Who rapt apart in silent thought paced each his several green;
And stretched in dell and dark ravine, were some that lay supine,
And some in posture prone that lay, and conn'd the written line.
Then to the King's enquiring gaze, where, mounted by his side,
He sat and eyed the silent throng, the grey Arch-Bard replied:

“See in despite the Clerics' hate, where Kellach's care awards
“Rough though it be, a sanctuary to Erin's banished Bards.
“A life-time now is well-nigh spent since first our wandering feet,
“Compelled by that unjust decree enacted at Drumkeat,
“Left home and presidential seat by plenteous board and fire
“To sate the rage of impious Aed, ungrateful Domnal's sire.
“Twelve hundred men, with one consent, from Erin's utmost ends,
“We sought the hills where ruled the Bard's hereditary friends,
“Thy sheltering, song-preserving hills, Ultonia! cess nor dues
“Craved we; but sat and touched our harps beside the Strand-End Yews.
“Of Ulster's Hound, the matchless Hound, pursuer swift and strong
“Of all the brutish herds of vice and monster-broods of wrong,
“Great, good Cuchullin, was our song; and how, when once before
“All Erin's churls from niggard board and culture-barring door,
“Impatient of life's needful charge of knowledge, had expelled
“Their Poet-teachers, and the Bards sat by the sea, and held
“Dire counsel; either to turn back, and with avenging swords
“Regain their rights, or o'er the seas enrich rude Alba's lords
“With our lost lore, Cuchullin came, and ‘Let it not be told,’
“Said he, ‘that men of Erin e'er loved knowledge less than gold.’
“And bore them to Dun-Dealga back; seven hundred Ollaves good
“And thrice seven hundred in their train; where neither fire nor food
“Failed them thenceforth for seven full years, until by just degrees
“The needs of knowledge drew them back to all their rectories.
“Whereby renown of song enures to Ulster, and the fame
“Of virtue as of valour still cleaves to Cuchullin's name.
“Hearing which lay, Malcova, son of Deman, standing by,
“Was moved with pity and desire to leave his memory
“Linked with Cuchullin's. Three full years Malcova spread our board
“There, by the Yewry. After him, from bounteous lord to lord
“Roamed we the sheltering Land of Song; and so, from year to year
“Lived, spite of angry Domnal's hate, till generous Kellach here
“Assigned us,—small the remnant now of that illustrious band
“Who at Malcova's tables sat,—this tract of rugged land;
“And ever in his own good fort, with hospitable care,
“For bard and pupil at our will provides us daily fare.
“Yes, though the Clerics' grasp on all our fruitful lands be set,
“The poet-peopled desert teems with inspiration yet:
“And here, despite their bells and books, still 'mid our wilds we teach
“The better Bardic utterance and sacred Poet-speech,
“Yet to be heard, some happier day, when 'mid the shock of spears
“The shout of Freedom shall be heard; and blest be he who hears.”

Said Congal, “Deem not that the Bards by any voice of ours
“Are of their lawful rights debarred; or that the lawless powers
“The Clerks usurp were gained of me; I love them not; but now
“To royal Domnal reconciled, 'tis fitting that I bow
“With willing reverence to the laws.”

Said Ardan, “Laws in Mourne
“Against the law of God decreed, we reverence not, but scorn.”

“Fear not,” said Congal; “while I reign o'er Ulster, none shall dare
“Disturb the seats assigned you here by generous Kellach's care.”

“We fear not for our seats, oh King: these rocks are not the soil
“That Clerics choose, when feeble chiefs divide the Church her spoil.
“Yet even 'mid these wind-whirling vales, these deserts dumb and dead,
“Their Saints invade us. Raise thine eyes to yonder mountain head
“That 'twixt us and the eastern sky uplifts its glittering cone:
“There, where thou seest the cairn at top, dwelt in his cave of stone
“Their hermit Domangart, ten years: the tempests from the sea
“On one side dashed him, and on one the wet west blanched him: he
“Daily, or from his driving cloud or mountain altar bare,
“Loosed'gainst the nation's ancient gods his searching shafts of prayer;
“And, daily, from the rocky crest of Bingian here, hard by,
“Alone like him, and raised like him, midway 'twixt earth and sky,
“The red Bard Irial, in reply, launched from his rival chair
“Athwart the empty fields of space, the deadlier poet's Aeir;
“Till, when the struggle had endured the tenth year, in his pride
“Of prayer and fasting, Domangart sank 'neath the Aeir and died.
“For God imparts the Bardic gift in triplicate degree,
“The power to charm, the power to blight, the power to prophesy;
“But to the second grade but few, and to the last but one
“May in a generation rise; and Aidan's mighty son
“Had to the second degree attained; and with his song could rhyme
“Crops to decay, and men to death; as in the olden time
“Bard Neyid blotched his uncle Caier, and from both throne and bed
“Expelled him. ‘Love me, Lord of Song,’ incestuous Athna said.
“But Neyid would not. ‘Love me, Lord of Connaught,’ said the dame;
“Then Neyid from his burning heart, fired with the double flame
“Of lust and of ambition, sped the baleful words of scorn
“That made the king a blemished man: he, wretch, at early morn,
“When to the healing fount he went, his fevered brow to lave,
“Beheld on either evilled cheek, reflected in the wave,
“The hideous boil incurable; from sight of human eyes
“Abashed he fled, and one year's space in mendicant disguise
“Lurked in Dun-Kermna, with the son of Edersgol; meantime
“Neyid enjoyed his Queen and crown; but that enormous crime
“Passed not unpunished: when the year in guilty joy was spent,
“Mounted in Caier's own royal car the Queen and Poet went
“To claim their captive from the son of Edersgol; and, bound
“To Neyid's belt, to aid their quest, brought Caier's favorite hound.
“Then, through his rags and scars, the King a moment stood revealed;
“‘He sits within my seat,’ he cried; and snatched a warrior's shield;
“But in the buckler's polished disk beholding once again
“His ruined visage, and the dire, disqualifying stain,
“Shame-struck, leaped headlong o'er the rocks that from the fortress-mound
“Stoop to the sea; and, after him, dragged by the eager hound,
“Went Neyid o'er the slippery brink; at whose despairing cry,
“As down the airy void he whirled, the chariot-steeds hard by
“Fled; and, cast forward where the reins entangling trailed the road,
“Her broken limbs for many a mile the rocks of Bearra strowed.
“Such power of old a Bard hath owned; and such tremendous power
“For evil or for good on thee depending, at this hour,
“Here, round us, these, the remnant left of those whom Aed's decree,
“Made at Drumkeat, expelled their chairs, reserve in trust for thee,
“Their only rightful Lord and King.”

Said Congal: “Say not so;
“'Tis Domnal now to whom we all a one allegiance owe.”

By this they reached the fort, and found the Chieftain Kellach there:
Before the outer gate he sat, and took the fresher air:
A very aged senior he; his hearing well-nigh gone,
Nor walked he longer on his feet, but sat a tolg upon:
A brazen-footed bench it was, whereon his serving train
Could bear him gently in and out.

“My love to Congal Claen,”
He said. “Disabled of my limbs thou find'st me, nephew, still;
“But not yet crippled aught in heart or in the loyal will
“I bear my brother Scallan's son; and much my heart is grieved
“At hearing of the shameful wrongs thou hast of late received
“At hands of this ungrateful King.”

“Dear kinsman, grieve no more,”
Congal returned; “these wrongs are all forgotten, since we swore
“The oaths of peace; for peace is made, and will be ratified
“By taking of the princess fair, Lafinda, for my bride;
“And, ere the nuptial knot be tied, on duty's urgent wing
“Even now to Dunangay I ride to banquet with the King.”

Said Kellach; “Small the good will spring from any banquet spread
“At Dunangay, where coward Kings, from spacious Tara fled,
“At threat of imprecating Clerks, crouch in their narrow den.
“But these are not the days of Kings, nor days of mighty men.”

Said Garrad Gann; “A servant here of Domnal: and I say
“No narrow house, oh aged Sire, is that of Dunangay.
“But when Saint Ruan, because the King, Brown Dermid, had profaned
“His sanctuary, and his ward, thence ravished, still detained
“At Tara contumaciously, denounced by book and bell
“His curse against the royal seat,—which righteous judgment well
“Did Dermid merit; for he pressed his fugitive's pursuit
“With sacrilegious fury to the very altar foot
“Of Lorrah; and, when Ruan himself stood in the narrow door
“That led to where his ward was hid beneath the chancel floor,
“And Dermid feared to pluck him thence, with pick and iron crow
“Did break the floor before his feet, and from the crypt below
“Dug out Aed Guara,—afterwards, no King at Tara dare
“Longer reside; but each within his patrimonial share
“Ordained the royal seat elsewhere—as south Hy-Niall, who chose
“Loch-Leyne-Fort; or as north Hy-Niall, Fort-Aileach; and like those
“Did Domnal choose, when Erin's voice gave him the sovereign sway,
“By salmon-full abounding Boyne, the house of Dunangay.
“There, following royal Tara's plan, with dyke and mound he cast
“Seven mighty ramparts round about, to make the mansion fast;
“And, after the same pattern, did build within the fort
“For him and for his household train, a timbered middle-court;
“Also for each Provincial King a fair assembly hall,
“A prison and a Poet's lodge, and, fairest work of all,
“A single-pillared chamber, like as Cormac, learned son
“Of Art, at desert Tara in former times had done.
“In which capacious mansion, thou and all thy Bards, old man,
“Could lodge, and no man's room be less: so answers Garrad Gann.”

“Herald, I hear thy words but ill,” said Kellach; “but 'twere well
“For Erin, if Dermid Dun, that day he broke the Cleric's cell,
“As justly by the law he might, his fugitive to win,
“Had, where he took Aed Guara out, put Ruan of Lorrah in.
“So should our laws have reverence meet; nor lawless Clerks exalt
“Their crooked staves above the wand of Justice, through the fault
“Of such as Dermid. But, oh youths, behold the open gates
“Where mountain fare on homely boards your courtesy awaits.”

They entered: in the hall within abundant boards were spread,
Bard, Brehon, Smith, in order set, each at his table's head;
But no Priest sat to bless the meat: now, when the feast was done,
Said Kellach, from his middle place,

“Oh, learned harmonious one,
“Who sittest o'er the Board of Bards of Erin, be our cheer
“Graced with such lay as Rury's sons will not disdain to hear.”

Then at a sign from Ardan given, a Poet pale and grey
Rose at the table of the Smith, and sang an antique lay.

Of Cical and his hunter-tribes the varied song began,
And how, in Grecian galleys borne, Mæonian Partholan,
Sire of great Slanga, on a day, with sight of sail and oar,
Amazed the dwellers of the woods by Inver Scena's shore,
Where first Invasion first brought in our arts of life; and how
Erin, untilled till then, from him received the spade and plough.
His three chief husbandmen, from whom all reckonings still begin
Of Erin's wealth, were Dig and Delve and Gather-Increase-In.
His leader-oxen, first and best that Erin ever saw
Yoked to the work of livelihood, were sturdy Drive and Draw.
His two chief sages, Ask and Tell. His merchants, Take and Give,
By whose plain precepts, first and last, must Erin learn to live.
But Todga was a comely page, and Dalgnaid warm and frail,
And Inis-Saimer's sorrows next engaged the devious tale.
Next, how great Slanga, for himself and princely brethren three,
Did first in four partition forth the Isle of Destiny.
Then sang he how the sudden pest with half the fair and brave
Of Erin filled Ben Edar's cairns and Tamlaght's nation-grave.
Forgotten Partholan himself, lies 'neath his royal mound
On green Moynalty, hushed at eve by drowsy ocean's sound,
And clangorous song of flocks, by night, when through the wintry air
The wide-winged wild geese to their pools by Liffey side repair:
But promised Slanga, tombed aloft on that great mountain's head,
Which now, since Domangart hath used the chamber of the dead
For Cleric rites, no longer owns its name of old renown,
Slieve-Slanga, but Slieve-Donard sounds, awaits his calling-down;
At whose return, when time has brought Fate's pre-appointed hour,
Long, long withheld, return the days of Ulster's pride and power.
“And many a day,” the poet said, “I've raised to Slanga's cairn
“These eyes of mine, with longing gaze, expecting to discern
“Sign of his coming; and methought, as I this very day
“Lay high on Bingian's side, and watched the piled stones stern and grey,
“They seemed to stir: a sudden light o'er all the landscape spread,
“A joyous sound of song burst forth around and overhead;
“The wasteful void of air between, that in a lifeless trance
“Lay wrapped but now, seemed sudden filled with voice and utterance;
“Strong in me rose desire of song; a thousand thoughts and tones
“Melodious thrilled me; still I gazed; and still the sullen stones
“Ope'd not; but even as I gazed, I saw the sunshine flame
“On Congal's crest, and knew in him our promised Slanga came.”
He sat; and smiles and plaudits marked the lay's appropriate close:
Then at the Brehon's senior board another bard arose.

Of Herdsman Borcha was his song: how he, in ancient days,
Used sit on craggy Bingian's top to view his bestial graze;
Till from his herding-seat disturbed, when to that craggy steep
Came Goban with his mason train to build a treasure-keep
For mighty Finn. In living layers the jointed rampart rose
A spear's length thick; but when the wall should now well-nigh enclose
The central summit, Borcha came, by night, and with his staff
Scattered the one half of the work; but left the other half
Entire, that like a bristling crest on warrior's helmet set,
Looks toward Orgallia and the west with front defiant yet.
“In shade whereof,” the poet said, “as from the sultry beam
“Of May-day noon, withdrawn I lay, I slept and dreamt a dream.
“Above me on his ancient seat, obscuring half the skies,
“I saw the giant Herdsman sit, his mist-grey meteor eyes
“Searching the north: ‘Gigantic youth, what do'st thou there?’ I cried.
“‘I keep the score of Ulster's kine,’ the great Neate-Herd replied.
“‘To keep the score of Ulster's kine, oh Borcha,’ answered I,
“‘There needs not now, since Scallan's day, a herd-seat half so high.’
“He turned, and gazing south and west, where once the dun droves ranged
“Orgallia, saw the alien brands, and all his aspect changed.
“He rose in wrath, and called his dogs, and down the mountain strode,
“And, at his parting, with his staff such buffet he bestowed
“On Finn's rock-rampart that the earth rebounded at the stroke;
“For, lo! the bolt of heaven had fallen hard-by, and I awoke
“'Mid rolling thunder and the smoke of shattered crags; but still
“Could hear his whistle and his call from distant hill to hill.
“And, as the Master-Poet's car,” said he, “went by to-day,
“Bearing King Congal through the glen where rapt in thought I lay,
“I looked and saw him once again, busy on Bingian's brow
“Reckoning his kine; but west and south he turned his glances now,
“And smiled to find the tale complete, as, changing hand and hand,
“With fingers swift he told the score for each reconquered land.”

He sat: and Congal also sat in silence and in gloom,
While plaudits fierce and unrestrained rose round the crowded room.

Third, Ardan sang. “To God who made the elements, I raise
“First praises humbly as is meet, and Him I lastly praise;
“Who sea and land hath meted out beneath the ample sky
“For man's inhabitation, and set each family
“To dwell within his proper bounds; who for the race renowned
“Of Rury from old time prepared the fair Ultonian ground,
“Green-valley'd, clear-stream'd, fishy-bay'd, with mountain-mirroring lakes
“Belted, with deer-abounding woods and fox-frequented brakes
“Made apt for all brave exercise; that, till the end of time,
“Each true Rudrician fair-hair'd son might from his hills sublime
“Look forth and say, ‘Lo, on the left, from where tumultuous Moyle
“‘Heaves at Benmore's foot-fettering rocks with ceaseless surging toil,
“‘And, half escaping from the clasp of that stark chain of stone,
“‘The soaring Foreland, poised aloft, as eagle newly flown,
“‘Hangs awful on the morning's brow, or rouses armed Cantyre,
“‘Red kindling 'neath the star of eve the Dalriad's warning fire;
“‘South to the salt, sheep-fattening marsh and long-resounding bay
“‘Where young Cuchullin camped his last on dread Muirthevne's day;
“‘And southward still to where the weird De Danaan kings lie hid,
“‘High over Boyne, in cavern'd cairn and mountain pyramid;
“‘And on the right hand from the rocks where Balor's bellowing caves
“‘Up through the funnelled sea-cliffs shoot forth the exploding waves,
“‘South to where lone Gweebarra laves the sifted sands that strow
“‘Dark Boylagh's banks; and southward still to where abrupt Eas-Roe
“‘In many a tawny heap and whirl, by glancing salmon track't,
“‘Casts down to ocean's oozy gulfs the great sea-cataract,
“‘The land is ours!—from earth to sea, from hell to heaven above,
“‘It and its increase, and the crown and dignity thereof!’
“Therefore to God, who gave the land into our hand, I sing
“First praises, as the law commands; next, to my lawful King,
“Image of God, with voice and string I chaunt the loyal strain,
“Though well-nigh landless here to-day I see thee, Congal Claen;
“Spoiled of Orgallia's green domain, of wide Tir-Owen's woods,
“Of high Tir-Conal's herdful hills and fishy-teeming floods;
“Of all the warm vales, rich in goods of glebe-manuring men,
“That bask against the morning sun along the Royal Glen.
“These are no longer ours: the brood of Baedan's sons in these
“Shoot proudly forth their lawless barques, and sweep unhostaged seas
“Through all the swift-keel-clasping gulfs of ocean that enfold
“Deep-bay'd Moy Inneray and the shores of Dathi's land of gold.
“In law-defying conscious strength aloft in Dunamain
“Rude Ultan Long-hand owns no lord on Orior's pleasant plain;
“While o'er Ardsallagh's sacred height, and Creeve Roe's flowery meads,
“Malodhar Macha reigns alone in Emain of the steeds.
“But come; resound the noble deeds and swell the chant of praise
“In memory of the men who did the deeds of other days;
“The old bard-honoring, fearless days, exulting Ulster saw,
“When to great Rury's fair-haired race tall Scallan gave the law;
“When, from Troy-Rury to Ardstraw was neither fort nor field,
“But yielded tribute to the king that bore the ell-broad shield.
“Hark! what a shout Ben Evenagh pealed! how flash from sea to shore
“The chariot sides, the shielded prows, bright blade and dripping oar;
“How smoke their causeways to our tramp: beneath our oarsmen's toil
“How, round the Dalaradian prows, foam down the waves of Foyle!
“Come forth, ye proud ones of Tir-Hugh, your eastern masters wait
“To take their tribute-rights anew at broad-stoned Aileach's gate;
“A hundred steeds, a hundred foals, each foal beside its dam,
“A hundred pieces of fine gold, each broad as Scallan's palm,
“And thick as thumb-nail of a man of churlish birth who now
“The seventh successive seedtime holds a fallow-furrowing plough:
“Three hundred mantles; thirty slaves, all females, young and fair,
“Each carrying her silver cup, each cup a poet's share
“Who sings an ode inaugural.—Alas! I fondly rave:
“Dead, tribute-levying Scallan lies; and dead in Scallan's grave
“Glory and might and prosperous days. The very heavens that pour'd
“Abundance on our fields and streams, while that victorious lord
“Of righteous judgments ruled the land; the stars that, as they ranged
“The bounteous heavens, shed health and wealth, above our heads are changed.
“Nor marvel that the sickening skies are altered o'er our heads,
“Nor that from heaven's distempered heights malign contagion spreads:
“For all the life of every growth that springs beneath the sun
“Back to the air returns when once its turn of life is done:
“To it all sighs ascend; to it, on chariot-wheels of fire,
“All imprecations from the lips of injured men aspire;
“And when that lofty lodge of life and growth-store of the world
“Is choked with groans from burthened hearts and maledictions hurled
“In clamorous flight of accents winged with deadlier strength of song
“From livid lips of desperate men who bear enormous wrong,
“Heaven cannot hold it; but the curse outbursting from on high
“In blight and plague, on plant and man, blasts all beneath the sky.
“Burst, blackening clouds that hang aloof o'er perjured Domnal's halls!
“Dash down, with all your flaming bolts, the fraud-cemented walls,
“Till through your thunder-riven palls heaven's light anew be pour'd
“In Law and Justice, Wealth and Song, on Congal's throne restored!”

Look how the culprit stands confused before the judge, while one,
Who, passing through the woods unseen, has seen the foul deed done,
Relates the manner of the fact; tells how with treacherous blow
Struck from behind the murdered man sank on the pathway; so
With flushing cheek, contracted brow, and restless, angry eye,
Sat Congal till the lay was closed: then with a mighty sigh
He breathed his heart; and standing, spoke; and, speaking, he unbent
The golden torque that clasped his neck, and by a butler sent
The splended guerdon to the Bard.

“For what thy lay doth sound
“In praise of Rury's glorious race and Uladh's realm renowned,
“Take, Bard, this gift; but for so much of this untimely song
“As sounds in strife betwixt myself and sovereign Domnal, long
“And far from me, his foster-son, be that disastrous day
“Would break the peace we late have sworn: and therefore for thy lay
“I thank thee and I thank thee not.”

Then round the tables ran
Much murmuring through the Poet-throng: and thus spoke Garrad Gann:

“The lay is easy that a Bard chaunts at his patron's board,
“With none in presence to repay lewd word with saucier word.
“See how a boy who spends his time playing alone at ball,
“Loitering, belike, from school, beside some lofty smooth-faced wall,
“Strikes softly that the ball may fall convenient to his blow,
“And keeps his private game on foot with easy effort so.
“But, say, two pairs of players arrive, and join an earnest game;
“Lo, all the easy-taken balls, that late high-curving came,
“Now struck by prompt rebutting hands fly past, shot in and out,
“Direct and rapid, hard to hit, missed once at every bout;
“The players at stretch of every limb, like flickering bats that ply
“Their dumb quest on a summer's eve, to balk each other, fly
“Hither and thither; all their chests heave; and on every brow
“The sweat-drops glisten. So, me seems, oh King, this minstrel now,
“Much like a Cleric in his desk, having none to strive withal,
“His game being wholly with himself, keeps up the easy ball
“Of safe disloyalty: but, let this song of his be heard
“By Domnal's Bards, in Domnal's hall, and take a true man's word
“Our angry Master here should give his day of harvest-work
“Ere from the field of fair debate he'd bear his golden torque.”

“Enough,” said Kellach. “Now to rest: and with the earliest ray
“Of dawn, my kinsman-king is free to journey on his way.”