"But we never eat together," the queen replied.
"I cannot violate my geasa," said the High King.
"I will eat with you," said Segda (Sweet Speech), "and thus, while you are our guest you will not do violence to your vows."
"Indeed," said Conn, "that will be a great satisfaction, for I have already all the trouble that I can cope with and have no wish to add to it by offending the gods."
"What is your trouble?" the gentle queen asked.
"During a year," Conn replied, "there has been neither corn nor milk in Ireland. The land is parched, the trees are withered, the birds do not sing in Ireland, and the bees do not make honey."
"You are certainly in trouble," the queen assented.
"But," she continued, "for what purpose have you come to our island?"
"I have come to ask for the loan of your son."
"A loan of my son!"
"I have been informed," Conn explained, "that if the son of a sinless couple is brought to Tara and is bathed in the waters of Ireland the land will be delivered from those ills."
The king of this island, Daire, had not hitherto spoken, but he now did so with astonishment and emphasis.
"We would not lend our son to any one, not even to gain the kingship of the world," said he.
But Segda, observing that the guest's countenance was discomposed, broke in:
"It is not kind to refuse a thing that the Ard-Rí of Ireland asks for, and I will go with him."
"Do not go, my pulse," his father advised.
"Do not go, my one treasure," his mother pleaded.
