The book of romance/The Pursuit of Diarmid

by Mrs. Lang

THE PURSUIT OF DIARMID

Fionn, the son of Cumhaill, rose early from his bed and went and sat upon the clearing of grass that stretched at the foot of the hill of Allen, where was the favourite palace of the Irish Kings of Leinster. He had stolen out alone, while his attendants were sleeping, but soon he was missed and two of his men followed him to the green plain.

‘Why have you risen so early?’ said Ossian as he came up.

‘Since my wife died,’ answered Fionn, ‘little sleep has come to me, and better I like to be sitting by the hillside than to toss restlessly between walls.’

‘Why did you not tell us?’ answered Ossian, ‘for there is not a girl in the whole land of Erin whom we would not have brought you by fair means or foul.’

Dearing, who had till now kept silence, then spoke. ‘I myself know of a wife who would be a fitting mate even for Fionn, son of Cumhaill—Grania, the daughter of Cormac, who is fairer of speech and form than the daughters of other men.’

Fionn looked up quickly at Bearing’s words.

‘There has been strife for long between me and Cormac,’ said he, ‘and it is not seemly that I should ask anything of him which might be refused. Therefore go you and Ossian and, as from yourselves, see if this marriage pleases him. It were better that he should refuse you, rather than me.’

‘Farewell then,’ said Ossian, ‘but let no man know of our journey till we come back again.’

So the two went their ways, and found Cormac, King of Erin, holding a great council on a wide plain, with the chiefs and the great nobles gathered before him. He welcomed Ossian and Dearing with courtesy, and as he felt sure they bore some message, he bade the council meet again on the morrow. When the nobles and chiefs had betaken themselves to their homes, Ossian told the King of Erin that they had come to know his thoughts as to a marriage between his daughter and Fionn, son of Cumhaill.

‘There is not the son of a King or of a great prince, a hero or a champion in the whole of Erin,’ answered Cormac, ‘whom my daughter has not refused to wed, and it is I whom all hold guilty for it, though it is none of my doing. Therefore betake yourselves to my daughter, and she will speak for herself. It is better that you be displeased with her than with me.’

Thereupon Ossian and Dearing were led by the King to the dwelling of the women, and they found Grania lying on a high couch. ‘Here, Grania,’ said the King, ‘are two of the men of Fionn, the son of Cumhaill, and they have come to ask you as wife for him. What is your answer?’

‘If he be a fitting son-in-law for you, why should he not be a fitting husband for me?’ said Grania. And at her words, her father ordered a banquet to be made in the palace for Ossian and Dearing, and sent them back to Eionn with a message summoning him to a tryst in a fortnight’s time.

When Ossian and Dearing were returned into Kildare, they found Eionn and his men, the Fenians, on the hill of Allen, and they told their tale from the beginning to end. And the heart of Fionn grew light as he heard it, and the fortnight of waiting stretched long before him. But everything wears away at last, and so did those fifteen days; and on the last, Fionn assembled seven battalions of his Fenians from wherever they might be, and they

GRANIA QUESTIONS THE DRUID

set forth in troops for the great plain where Cormac, King of Erin, had given them tryst.

The King had made ready a splendid feast, and welcomed the new-comers gladly, and they ate and drank together. When the feast was over the Druid Derry sang songs before Grania, and she, knowing he was a man of wisdom, asked him why Fionn had come thither. ‘If you know not that,’ said the Druid, ‘it is no wonder that I know it not.’

‘I wish to learn it from you,’ answered Grania.

‘Well then,’ replied the Druid, ‘it is to ask you for wife that he is come.’

‘I marvel,’ said Grania, ‘that it is not for Ossian that he asks me. For my father himself is not as old as Fionn. But tell me, I pray you, who is that softly spoken man with the curling black hair and ruddy countenance, that sits on the left hand of Ossian, the son of Fionn?’

‘That is Diarmid, son of Dowd, the best lover in the whole world.’

‘It is a goodly company,’ said Grania, and ordered her lady to bring her the golden goblet chased with jewels. When it was brought she filled it up with the drink of nine times nine men, then bade her handmaid carry it to Fionn and say that she had sent it to him, and that he was to drink from it. Fionn took the goblet with joy, but no sooner had he drunk than he fell down into a deep slumber; and the same thing befel also Cormac, and Cormac’ s wife, and as many as drank of the goblet sent by Grania.

When all were sleeping soundly, she rose softly and said to Ossian, ‘I marvel that Fionn should ask such a wife as I, for it were fitter that he should give me a husband of my own age than a man older than my father.’

‘Say not so, Grania,’ answered Ossian, ‘for if Fionn were to hear you, he would not have you, neither should I dare to ask for you.’

‘Then you will not listen to word of marriage from me?’ asked Grania.

‘I will not,’ answered Ossian, ‘for I must not lay my hand on what Fionn has looked on.’

Then Grania turned her face to Diarmid Dowd and what she said was, ‘Will you receive courtship from me, Son of Dowd, since Ossian will not receive it?’

‘I will not,’ answered Diarmid, ‘for whatever woman is betrothed to Fionn, I may not take her.’

‘I will put you under bonds of destruction, Diarmid,’ said Grania, ‘if you take me not out of this house to-night.’

‘Those are indeed evil bonds,’ answered Diarmid, ‘and wherefore have you laid them on me, seeing there is no man less worthy to be loved by you than myself?’

‘Not so, son of Dowd,’ said Grania, ‘and I will tell you wherefore.

‘One day the King of Erin held a muster on the great plain of Tara, and Fionn and his seven battalions were there. And a goaling match was played, and all took part, save only the King, and Fionn, and myself and you, Diarmid. We watched till the game was going against the men of the kingdom of Erin, then you rose, and, taking the pole of the man who was standing by, threw him to the ground, and, joining the others, did thrice win the goal from the warriors of Tara. And I turned the light of my eyes upon you that day, and I never gave that love to any other from that time to this, and will not for ever. So to-night we will pass through my wicket-gate, and take heed you follow me.’

After she had spoken, Diarmid turned to Ossian and his companions. ‘What shall I do, Ossian, with the bonds that have been laid on me?’

‘Follow Grania,’ said Ossian, ‘and keep away from the wiles of Fionn.’

‘Is that the counsel of you all to me?’ asked Diarmid.

‘It is the counsel of us all,’ said they.

Then Diarmid bade them farewell, and went to the top of the Fort, and put the shafts of his two javelins under him, and rose like a bird into the air, and found himself on the plain where Grania met him. ‘I trow, Grania,’ said he, ‘this is an evil course upon which you are come, for I know not to which corner of Erin I can take you. Return to the town, and Fionn will never harm you.’

‘I will never go back,’ answered Grania, ‘and nothing save death shall part us.’

‘Then go forward,’ said Diarmid.

The town was a mile behind them when Grania stopped. ‘I am weary, son of O’Dowd.’

‘It is a good time to weary, Grania, for your father’s house is still nigh at hand, and I give you my word as a warrior that I will never carry you or any woman.’

‘You need not do that,’ answered Grania, ‘for my father’s horses are in a fenced meadow by themselves, and have chariots behind them. Go and bring two horses and a chariot, and I will wait for you here.’

And Diarmid did what Grania bade him, and he brought two of the horses, and they journeyed together as far as Athlone.

‘It is the easier for Fionn to follow our track,’ said Diarmid at last, ‘now we have the horses.’

‘Then leave them,’ cried Grania, ‘one on each side of the stream, and we will travel on foot.’ So they went on till they reached Galway, and there Diarmid cut down a grove, and made a palisade with seven doors of wattles, and gathered together the tops of the birch trees and soft rushes for a bed for Grania.

When Fionn and all that were in Tara awoke and found that Diarmid and Grania were not among them, a burning rage seized upon Fionn. At once he sent out trackers before him, and he followed them himself with his men, till they reached the land of Connanght. ‘Ah, well I know where Grania and Diarmid shall be sought,’ cried Fionn. And Ossian and Bearing heard him, and said to each other, ‘We must send Diarmid a warning, lest he should be taken. Look where Bran is, the hound of Fionn, and he shall take it, for he does not love Fionn better than he loves Diarmid, so, Oscar, tell him to go to Diarmid who is in Derry.’ And Oscar told that to Bran, and Bran understood, and stole round to the back part of the army where Fionn might not see him; then he bounded away to Derry and thrust his head into Diarmid’s bosom as he lay asleep.

At that Diarmid awoke and sprang up and woke Grania, and told her that Bran had come, which was a token that Fionn himself was coming. ‘Fly then,’ said Grania; but Diarmid would not fly. ‘He may take me now,’ said he, ‘seeing he must take me some time.’ At his words Grania shook with fear, and Bran departed.

All this while the friends of Diarmid took counsel together, and they dreaded lest Bran had not found them, and they resolved to give them another warning. So they bade the henchman Feargus to give three shouts, for every shout could be heard over three counties. And Diarmid heard them, and awoke Grania, and told her that it was a warning they had sent him of Fionn. ‘Then take that warning,’ said she. ‘I will not,’ answered Diarmid, ‘but will stay in this wood till Fionn comes.’ And Grania trembled when she heard him.

By-and-by the trackers came back to Fionn with news that they had seen Diarmid and Grania, and though Ossian and Diarmid’s friends tried to persuade Fionn that the men had been mistaken, Fionn was not to be deceived. ‘Well did I know the meaning of the three shouts of Feargus, and why you sent Bran, my own hound, away. But it shall profit him nothing, for Diarmid shall not leave Derry till he has paid me for every slight he has put upon me.’

‘Great foolishness it is of you, Fionn,’ said Oscar, ‘to think that Diarmid would stay in this plain waiting to have his head taken from him.’

‘Who else would have cut down the trees, and have made a palisade of them, and cut seven doors in it? Speak, Diarmid, is the truth with me or with Oscar?’

‘With you, Fionn,’ said Diarmid, ‘and truly I and Grania are here.’

When he heard this, Fionn bade his men surround Diarmid and take him, and Diarmid rose up and kissed Grania three times in presence of Fionn and his men, and Fionn, seeing that, swore that Diarmid should pay for those kisses with his head.

But Angus, the foster-father of Diarmid, knew in what straits his foster-son was, and he stole secretly to the place where Diarmid was hidden with Grania, and asked him what he had done to bring his head into such danger. ‘This,’ said Diarmid; ‘Grania, the daughter of Cormac, King of Erin, has fled with me against my will to escape marriage with Fionn.’

‘Then let one of you come under my mantle,’ answered Angus, ‘and I will carry you out of your prison.’

‘Take Grania,’ answered Diarmid. ‘If I live, then will I follow you, but if not, carry her to her father, and let him deal with her as seems good.’

After that Angus put Grania under his mantle and they went their ways, and neither Fionn nor his Fenians knew of it.

When Angus and Grania had left him, Diarmid girded his arms upon him, and standing at one of the seven wattled doors, asked who stood behind. ‘No foe to you,’ answered a voice, ‘but Ossian, the son of Fionn, and Oscar, the son of Ossian, and others who are your friends. Come out, and none will do you hurt.’

‘I will not open the door until I find out where Fionn himself is.’ And so it befel at six of the doors, and Diarmid would not open them, least his friends should come under the wrath of Fionn. But as he drew near the seventh, and put his question, the answer came loud: ‘Here are Fionn, the son of Cumhaill, and four hundred of his servants, and we bear you no love, and if you come out we will tear your bones in sunder.’

‘I pledge my word,’ said Diarmid, ‘that yours is the first door by which I will pass,’ and he rose into the air on the shafts of his javelins, with a bound as light as a bird’s, and went far beyond Fionn and his people, and they knew nothing of it. Then he looked back and shouted that he had got the better of them, and followed after the track of Angus and Grania.

He found them warm in a hut with a fire in it, watching a wild boar roasting on a spit, and Grania’s soul almost left her body for joy at seeing Diarmid. They told their stories before the fire, and when morning broke Angus rose and said to Diarmid, ‘I must now depart, son of O’Dowd, and this counsel I leave you. Go not into a tree having but one trunk, when you fly before Fionn. And go not to a cave of the earth having only one door, or to an island which can only be reached by one channel. And in whatever place you cook your meal, there eat it not; and in whatever place you eat, there lie not; and in whatever place you lie down to sleep, there rise not on the morrow.’ So saying, he bade them farewell, and went his way.

The next day Diarmid and Grania journeyed up the Shannon, and they killed a salmon, and crossed the river to eat it, as Angus had told them. Soon they met a youth called Muadan, who wished to take service with them; and he was strong, and carried them over the rivers across their path. When evening came they found a cave, where Muadan spread out soft rushes and birch twigs for Diarmid and Grania to lie on, and as soon as they were asleep he stole into the next wood, and broke a long straight rod from a tree, and put a hair line and a hook upon it, and a holly berry on the rod, and fished in the stream. In three casts he had taken three fish. That night they ate a good supper, and while Diarmid and Grania slept, Muadan kept watch for them.

At dawn Diarmid woke Grania and told her to watch while Muadan slept, as he was going to climb a hill near by, and see where they had best go.

He soon stood on the top and looked round about him. In front of him was a great company of ships bearing towards him out of the west. They landed at the foot of the hill where Diarmid stood, and he swiftly ran down to meet them and to ask of what country they were.

‘We are three royal chiefs,’ said they, ‘and are sent by Fionn to take an enemy of his whom he has outlawed, called Diarmid O’Dowd. And with us are three fierce hounds whom we will loose upon his track. Fire burns them not, nor water drowns them, nor weapons wound them, and of us there are two thousand men. Moreover, tell us who you yourself are, and if you have any tidings of the son of O’Dowd.’

‘I am but a warrior walking the world with the strength of my arm and the blade of my sword. But I warn you, you will have no common man to deal with if you meet Diarmid, whom but yesterday I saw.’

‘Well, no one has been found yet,’ said they.

‘Is there wine in your ships?’ asked Diarmid.

‘There is,’ answered they.

‘If you would bring a tun of it here, I would do a trick for you.’ So the wine was sent for, and Diarmid raised the cask up and drank from it, and took it up to the top of the hill and stood on it, and it glided with him to the bottom. And that trick he did thrice, standing on the tun as it came and went. But the strangers only scoffed, and they told him they could do a much better trick than that, and one of them jumped on the tun. Then, before it could move, Diarmid gave the tun a kick, and the young man fell, and the tun rolled over and crushed him. And in like manner he did to many more, and the rest fled back to their ships.

The next morning they came to Diarmid where he stood on the hill, and he asked if they would like him to show them any more tricks, but they said they would rather hear some news of Diarmid first. ‘I have seen a man who met him to-day,’ answered Diarmid, and thereupon he laid his weapons on the ground and bounded upwards upon his javelin, coming down lightly beyond the host.

‘If you call that a feat, then you have never seen a feat,’ said a young warrior of the green Fenians—for so were they called from the colour of their armour. And he rose in like manner on his javelin and came down heavily on it, and it pierced his heart. Diarmid drew out the javelin, and another man took it and tried to do the same thing, and he also was slain, and so to the number of fifty. And they went to their ships while Diarmid returned to Muadan and Grania.

As soon as Diarmid awoke he went to the forest and cut two forked poles, which he took to the hill and placed upright, and he balanced the sword of Angus across the top. Then he rose lightly over and came down safely over it. ‘Is there any man among you who can do that?’ asked he of the men who had come up from their ships.

‘That is a foolish question,’ answered one, ‘for no man ever did a feat in Erin which one of us could not do,’ and he arose and leapt over the sword, but his foot caught in it, and he was cut in half. After that others tried, but none jumped that sword and lived. ‘Have you any tidings of the son of O’Dowd?’ asked the rest at last.

‘I have seen him that saw him to-day,’ answered Diarmid. ‘I will seek tidings of him to-night.’ And he returned to Grania.

When the sun rose Diarmid put on his coat of mail which no sword could pierce, and girded on the sword of Angus, and took his two javelins, whose stroke none could cure. Grania trembled at this brave sight, but Diarmid soothed her fears, and went off to meet the Fenians.

‘What tidings of the son of O’Dowd?’ said they. ‘Show us where he is, that we may take his head to Fionn.’

‘The body and life of Diarmid are under my protection, and I will not betray him.’

‘Then we will take your head, as Fionn is your enemy,’ said they.

‘Take it if you can,’ answered Diarmid, and he drew his sword and struck at the head of the man next him, and it rolled away from the body. Then he rushed on the host, and slew them right and left, and none lived to tell the tale but the three green chiefs and a few men who went back to their ships. And they returned the next morning and renewed the fight, but Diarmid vanquished them, and binding them fast, left them where they were. For he knew that there were only four men in the world that could loose them.

After this Diarmid called to Grania and Muadan to come with him, and they travelled till Grania grew weary, and Muadan carried her on his back to the foot of a great mountain. And there they rested on the bank of the stream.

Meanwhile the few men who had been left alive abandoned their ship, and sought the three chiefs who were lying bound on the hill. They tried to loosen the bands of the captives, but only drew them tighter.

Soon they saw the witch-messenger of Fionn coming over the tops of the hills skimming from one to the other as lightly as a swallow.

‘Who has made this great slaughter?’ said she.

‘Who are you that ask?’ said they.

‘I am Deirdre, the witch-messenger of Fionn, and he has sent me to look for you.’

‘We know not who the man was,’ answered they, ‘but his hair was black and curly, and his countenance ruddy. And he has bound our three chiefs, so that we cannot loose them.’

‘It was Diarmid himself,’ said she; ‘so loosen your hounds on his track, and I will send Fionn and his Fenians to help you.’

The men went down to their ships, and brought out their hounds, and loosened them on the track of Diarmid. The hounds made straight for the door of the cave, and the men followed them; and the hounds left the cave, and set forth westwards.

But Diarmid knew not of their coming till he saw silken banners waving, and three mighty warriors marching at the head. And he was filled with hatred of them, and went his ways, and Muadan took Grania on his back and bore her a mile along the mountain.

It was not long before they heard the hound coming, and Muadan bade Diarmid follow Grania, and he would keep the hound at bay. And when he had slain the hound, he departed after Diarmid and Grania.

Then the second hound was loosened, and Diarmid waited till he came close, so that he could take sure aim; and he cast his javelin into the hound and it fell dead like its fellow, and having drawn his javelin, he followed after Grania.

They had not gone much farther before the third hound was upon them. He bounded straight over the head of Diarmid, and would have seized Grania, but Diarmid took hold of his two hind legs, and swung him so fiercely against a rock that he was slain on the spot. And when that was done, Diarmid put on his arms, and slipped his little finger into the silken string of the javelin, and cast it straight at a youth in a green mantle that had outstripped his fellows, and slew him; and so to the rest, while Deirdre, the witch, wheeled and hovered about them all.

Now when news of the green Fenians that were bound by Diarmid reached Fionn he summoned his men, and they took the shortest ways till they reached the hill of slaughter. Then Fionn spoke, and what he said was, ‘Ossian, loose the three chiefs for me.’

‘I will not,’ replied Ossian, ‘for Diarmid bound me not to loose any warrior that he should bind.’

‘Oscar, loose them,’ said Fionn.

‘Nay,’ answered Oscar, ‘rather would I place more bands upon them,’ And so said the other two, and, before their eyes, the chiefs died of their bondage. So Fionn ordered their graves to be dug, and their flag laid upon their stone, and the heart of Fionn was heavy.

He raised his head and saw drawing near Deirdre, the witch, her legs trembling, her tongue raving, and her eyes dropping out of her head. ‘I have great and evil tidings for you,’ said she, and she told him of all the slaughter Diarmid had made, and how she herself had hardly escaped.

‘Whither went the son of O’Dowd?’ asked Fionn.

‘I know not,’ said she. At that Fionn and his Fenians departed, and wandered far before they could hear news of Diarmid.

On the road that led to the county of Gal way, Fionn saw fifty stout warriors coming towards him. ‘I know not who they are,’ said Fionn, ‘yet I think they are enemies of mine’; and, indeed, this proved to be so, for the leaders of the company told Fionn that his father and their fathers had fought in battle. ‘Then you must give me payment for the death of my father,’ said Fionn, ‘and in return you shall have power among the Fenians.’

‘But we have neither silver, nor gold, nor herds, Fionn,’ answered the two young men.

‘I want none of these,’ replied Fionn; ‘the payment I ask is but the head of a warrior, or a handful of berries from the magic tree of Dooros.’

‘Take counsel from me,’ cried Ossian, ‘for it is no light matter to bring to Fionn that which he asks of you. The head is the head of Diarmid, son of Dowd, and if there were two thousand of you instead of fifty, Diarmid would not let it go.’

‘And what are the berries that Fionn asks of us?’ said they.

‘Those berries would never have been heard of but for the jealousy of two women of different tribes, each of whom swore that her husband could hurl a pole farther than the other. So all the rest of the tribes came out to take part in the goaling match, and the game lasted long, and neither won a goal. At last the tribe of the Tuatha De Denann saw that the Fenians were stronger than they, and they went away bearing their provisions with them—nuts, and apples, and fragrant berries. And as they passed near the river Moy one of the berries fell, and turned into a quicken tree. No disease or sickness can touch anyone who eats three of its berries, and were he a hundred years old, the eater of them shall become no more than thirty.

‘Since those days the tribe has set a guard over it. He is a crooked giant, with an eye in the midst of his forehead. No weapon can wound him, and he can only die of three strokes from his own iron club. At night he sleeps on the top of the tree, and by day watches at the foot. Around him is a wilderness, and the Fenians dare not hunt there, for fear of that terrible one. These are the berries which Fionn asks of you.’

But Aod, the son of Andala, spoke and declared that he would rather die seeking those berries than return to his own land with his head bowed in shame. So he and Angus his cousin took farewell of Ossian and went their ways, and as they drew near the forest they came on the track of Diarmid; and they followed to the tent, where they found him with Grania. ‘Who are you?’ asked Diarmid.

‘We are Aod and Angus of the Clan Moirna,’ said

Diarmid Seizes The Giant’s Club

Aod, ‘and it is your head that we seek, Diarmid, son of O’Dowd. For Fionn will either have that, or a handful of berries from the quicken tree.’

‘Neither task is easy,’ answered Diarmid, ‘and woe to him that falls under the power of Fionn. He it was who slew your father, and surely that is payment enough. And whichever of these things you take him, you shall never have peace.’

‘What berries are those that Fionn wants?’ asked Grania, ‘and why cannot they be got for him?’ Then Diarmid told her the story, and how the country round was laid waste. ‘But when Fionn put me under his ban,’ continued he, ‘the giant gave me leave to hunt there if I would, but forbade me to touch the berries. And now, children of Moirna, will you fight me or seek the berries?’

‘We will fight you first,’ said they.

They fought long and well, but Diarmid got the better of them both, and bound them on the spot where they fell. ‘You struck valiantly,’ said Grania to Diarmid, ‘but I vow that even if the children of Moirna go not after those berries, I will never rest in my bed till I have eaten them.’

‘Force me not to break faith with the giant,’ answered Diarmid, ‘for he would not give them me more readily for that.’

‘Loose our bonds,’ said the children of Moirna, ‘and we will go with you, and give ourselves for your sake.’

‘Not so,’ answered Diarmid, ‘for the sight of him might kill you.’

‘Then let us go to watch you fight, before you cut off our heads.’ And Diarmid did so.

They found the giant asleep before the tree, and Diarmid pushed him with his foot.

The giant raised his head and looked at him: ‘Are you fain to break peace, Diarmid?’

‘Not I,’ answered he, ‘but Grania my wife is ill, and she longs for the taste of your berries, and it is to get a handful of them that I am now come.’

‘If she should die,’ said the giant, ‘she should have none.’

‘I may not do you treachery,’ replied Diarmid, ‘therefore I tell you I will have them by fair means or foul.’

The giant having heard that, stood up and dealt Diarmid three mighty strokes with his club, so that he staggered. Then, flinging down his weapons, he sprang upon the giant and grasped the club between his hands, hurling the giant to the ground by the weight of his body. Without giving him time to rise, Diarmid struck three blows with the club at the giant’s head and he died without a word.

Aod and Angus had watched the combat, and now came forth. ‘Bury the giant under the brushwood of the forest,’ said Diarmid, ‘so that Grania may not see him, and then go and bring her to me, for I am very weary.’

And the young men did so, ‘There, Grania, are the berries you asked for,’ said Diarmid when she came, but she swore that she would not taste a berry except he plucked it for her. So he plucked the berries for her and for the children of Moirna, and they ate their fill of them. ‘Now go,’ said he, ‘take as many berries as you can to Fionn, and tell him that it was you who slew the giant.’ And they gave thanks to Diarmid and left him, and he and Grania went to sleep on the top of the tree where the sweetest berries grew.

The children of Moirna reached Fionn, and bowed before him. ‘We have slain the giant,’ said they, ‘and have brought you the berries, and now we shall have peace for the death of our father.’ Fionn took the berries into his hand, and stooped down and smelt them, ‘I swear,’ he cried, ‘that it was Diarmid O’Dowd who gathered these berries, and full sure I am that it was he who slew the giant. I will follow him to the quicken tree, and it shall profit you nothing to have brought the berries to me.’

With seven battalions of his Fenians, he marched along Diarmid’s track till he reached the foot of the quicken tree, and finding the berries with no watch on them, they ate their fill. The sun was hot, and Fionn said he would stay at the foot of the tree till it grew cooler, as well he knew that Diarmid was at the top. ‘You judge foolishly,’ answered Ossian, ‘to think that Diarmid would stay up there when he knows that you are bent on his death.’

In spite of the heat and his long march, Fionn could not sleep, and called for a chess-board, and bade Ossian play with him. Fionn was the most skilled, and at length he said, ‘There is but one move that can save you the game, Ossian, and I dare all that are by to show you that move.’ And in the top of the tree Diarmid heard him, and said, ‘Ossian, why am I not there to show you?’

‘It is worse for you to be here in the power of Fionn, than for Ossian to lack that move,’ answered Grania.

But Diarmid plucked one of the berries, and aimed it at the man which should be moved, and Ossian moved it, and turned the game against Fionn. And so he did a second time, and a third, when Ossian was in straits, and he won the game and the Fenians sent up a great shout.

‘I marvel not at your winning, Ossian, seeing that Oscar is doing his best for you, and that the skilled knowledge of Dearing, and the prompting of Diarmid, are all with you.’

‘Now your eyes must be blinded, Fionn, to think that Diarmid would stay in that tree when you are beneath him.’

‘Which of us has the truth on his side, Diarmid?’ said Fionn, looking up.

‘Never did you err in your wisdom, Fionn,’ answered Diarmid, ‘and truly, I and Grania are here.’ Then, in presence of them all, he kissed Grania three times. ‘Thou shalt give thy head for those three kisses,’ said Fionn.

So Fionn and the four hundred that were with him surrounded the quicken tree, and he bade them on pain of death not to let Diarmid pass through them. Further, he promised to whichever man should go up the tree and fetch down Diarmid, he would give him arms and armour, and whatever place his father held among the Fenians. But Angus heard what Fionn said, and being somewhat of a wizard, came to Diarmid’s help, without being seen of the Fenians. And one man after another rolled down the tree.

Howbeit, both Diarmid and Angus felt that this was no place for Grania, and Angus said he would take her with him.

‘Take her,’ answered Diarmid; ‘if I be alive this evening I will follow you. If not, send Grania to her father at Tara.’ And with that Angus bade farewell to Diarmid, and flung his magic mantle over himself and Grania, and they passed out and no man knew aught of them till they reached the river Boyne.

When they were safely gone, Diarmid, son of O’Dowd, spoke from the top of the tree. ‘I will go down to you, Fionn, and to the Fenians, and will deal slaughter and discomfiture upon you and your people, seeing that I know your wish is to allow me no escape, but to work my death after some manner. Moreover, I have no friend who will help or protect me, since full often have I wrought havoc among the warriors of the world, for love of you. For there never came on you battle or strait, but I would plunge into it for your sake, and for that of the Fenians. Therefore I swear, Fionn, that thou shalt not get me for nothing.’

‘Diarmid speaks truth,’ said Oscar, ‘Grant him, I pray you, mercy and forgiveness.’

DIARMID & GRANIA IN THE QUICKEN TREE

‘I will not,’ answered Fionn, ‘till he has paid for every slight put upon me.’

‘It is a foul shame in thee to say that,’ said Oscar, ‘and I pledge the word of a soldier that unless the heavens fall upon me or the earth opens under my feet, I will not suffer you nor your Fenians to strike him a single blow, and I will take him under my protection, and keep him safe in spite of you all. Therefore, Diarmid, come down out of the tree, since Fionn will not grant you mercy. I will pledge that no evil will come to you to-day.’

So Diarmid rose, and stood upon the topmost bough of the tree, and leapt light and birdlike, by the shafts of his spears, and passed out far beyond Fionn and the Fenians of Erin. And he and Oscar went their way, and no tidings were heard of them till they reached Grania and Angus on the banks of the Boyne.

After Diarmid and Oscar had departed, Fionn ordered a ship to be made ready, and as soon as it was done he marched on board with a thousand of his warriors and set sail for the north of Scotland. When he arrived at the harbour nearest the King’s palace, he moored his ship and took the path to the palace, where the King received him kindly, and gave him food and drink. Then Fionn told the King why he was come. ‘And truly you should give me a host,’ said he, ‘for Diarmid it was who slew your father and two brothers and many of your men besides.’

‘That is so,’ answered the King, ‘and I will give you my two sons, with a thousand men to each of them.’ Joyful was Fionn to hear this, and he departed with his company, and nothing was known of them till they reached the Boyne, where Fionn challenged Diarmid and Angus to battle.

‘What shall I do touching this, Oscar?’ asked Diarmid.

‘We will give them battle and slay them all,’ answered Oscar.

On the morrow Diarraid and Oscar rose, and put on their armour and went their way to the place of combat, where they bound the rims of their shields together, so that they might not be parted in the fight. Next they proclaimed battle against Fionn, and the Scots said they would land and fight them first. They rushed together, and Diarmid passed under them and through them and over them, as a whale would go through small fish. And all of them fell by Diarmid and Oscar before night came, while they themselves had neither cut nor wound.

When Fionn saw that great slaughter he and his men put out to sea, and sailed to the cave where dwelt an old woman, Fionn’s nurse. And he told her his story from the beginning. ‘I will go with you,’ said she, ‘and will practise magic against him.’

They came to the Boyne, and the witch threw magic over Fionn and his Fenians, so that the men of Erin knew not they were there; and that day Diarmid was hunting alone, for he had parted from Oscar the day before. Now the witch knew this, and she flew to where a water-lily leaf lay with a hole in the middle of it, and as the wind lifted the leaf from the surface of the water she cast deadly darts at Diarmid through the hole, and did him great hurt. And every evil that had come upon him was little compared with that evil. Then he felt that unless he could strike her through the hole in the leaf she would slay him on the spot; so he lay down on his back and took his javelin in his hand, and reached her through the hole, and she fell dead.

After that he cut off her head and carried it with him to Angus.

The next day Diarmid rose early and Angus with him, and they went to Fionn and asked if he would make peace with Diarmid, and also to Cormac, King of Erin, with a like question; and they agreed thereto, and asked Diarmid what terms he wanted. Diarmid demanded several of the best baronies in Ireland, and he got them, and they blotted out all Diarmid had done during the sixteen years of his outlawry, and Cormac gave his other daughter to Fionn that he might let Diarmid be, and there was peace for many years, and Diarmid prospered mightily, and had four sons and one daughter.

THE GREEN BOAR

But one day a restless spirit seized on Grania, and she told Diarmid that it was a shame to them that the two greatest men in Erin, Cormac and Fionn, had never visited their house, and she wished to give a splendid feast and to bid them to it. And this was done: for a year Grania and her daughter were preparing the feast, and when it was ready the guests came, and stayed feasting for a year.

It was on the last day of the year that in his sleep Diarmid heard the voice of a dog that caused him to start and to wake Grania. ‘What is the matter?’ said she, and Diarmid told her. ‘May you be kept safely,’ answered Grania; ‘lie down again.’ So Diarmid lay down, but no sleep would come to him, and by-and-by he heard the hound’s voice again, but again Grania kept him from seeking it. This time he fell into a deep slumber, and a third time the hound bayed, and he woke and said to Grania, ‘Now it is day, and I will go.’ ‘Well, then,’ said she, ‘take your large sword and the red javelin.’ But Diarmid answered, ‘No, I will take the little sword that bites, and the small javelin, and my favourite hound on a chain.’

So he went without stopping to the top of a mountain, where Fionn stood alone. Diarmid asked if he was hunting, and Fionn said no, but that after midnight a company of Fenians had come out, and one of the hounds had crossed the track of the wild boar of Ben Gulbain, which had slain thirty Fenians that morning.

‘He is even now coming up this mountain against us,’ added he, ‘so let us leave the place.’

‘I will never leave the place for him,’ answered Diarmid.

‘Know you not that when you were a child a wizard prophesied that you should live as long as a green boar without ears or tail, and that it was by him that you should fall at last?’

‘No, I knew nothing of these things, but for all that I will not leave the mountain,’ answered Diarmid. And Fionn went his way, and Diarmid stood alone on the top. ‘It was to slay me that you made this hunt, Fionn; and if it is fated that I die here, die I must.’

The wild boar came tearing up the mountain, and behind him followed the Fenians. Diarmid slipped his hound, but it profited him nothing, for he did not await the boar, but fled before him. ‘Woe unto him that doeth not the counsel of a good wife,’ said Diarmid to himself, ‘for Grania bade me take my best hound and my red javelin.’ Then he aimed carefully at the boar’s head, and smote him in the middle of his forehead; but he did not so much as cut one of his bristles, far less pierce his skin. At that Diarmid felt his heart quail like those of weaker men, and he drew his sword and dealt the boar a stout blow, but the sword broke in two; and the beast stood unharmed. With a spring he drew himself upon Diarmid, so that he tripped and fell, and somehow when he rose up he was sitting astride the back of the boar, with his face looking towards the tail. The boar tried to fling him off but could not, though he rushed down the hill and jumped three times backwards and forwards out of the river at the foot; but Diarmid never stirred, and at last the boar dashed up the hill again, and Diarmid fell from his back. Then the boar sprang upon Diarmid with a mighty spring, and wounded him

The death of Diarmid

mortally; but Diarmid swung his broken sword about his head as he lay, and hit the boar such a blow on his head that where he stood there he fell dead.

Not long after that Fionn and his Fenians came up and watched Diarmid, who was dying fast. ‘It pleases me well to see you in that plight, Diarmid,’ said Fionn, ‘and I grieve that all the fair women of Erin cannot see you also.’

‘If you wished you could still heal me, Fionn,’ answered Diarmid.

‘How could I heal you, Diarmid?’

‘Easily,’ answered Diarmid. ‘Was it not given to you that whoever should drink from the palms of your hands should become young and whole again?’

‘You have not deserved that I should give you that drink,’ said Fionn.

‘That is not true, Fionn, well have I deserved it of you. Was it not I who avenged you and slew fifty of your enemies who tried to set on fire the house wherein you were holding your great feast? Had I asked you for such a drink then, you would have given it to me, and now I deserve it no less.’

‘Not so,’ answered Fionn; ‘you have deserved ill at my hands since that time, and little reason have I to give you drinks or any good thing. For did you not bear away Grania from me before all the men of Erin the night you were set as guard over her in Tara?’

‘The guilt of that was not mine, Fionn, but Grania besought me, else I would not have failed to keep my charge for all the bonds in the world. And well do I deserve you should give me a drink, for many is the day since I came among the Fenians in which I have perilled my life for your sake. Therefore you should not do me this foul treachery. And soon a dire defeat will come upon the Fenians, and few children will be left to them to carry on the race. It is not for you that I grieve, Fionn, but for Ossian and for Oscar, and for the rest of my faithful comrades. And you shall lack me sorely yet, Fionn.’

‘I am near of kin to you, Fionn,’ said Oscar, ‘but you shall not do Diarmid this wrong. Further, I swear that were any other prince in the world to have done this to Diarmid, we would have seen whose hand was strongest and who should bring him a drink.’

‘I know no well upon this mountain,’ answered Fionn.

‘That is not true,’ replied Diarmid, ‘for nine paces from this is the best well of pure water in the world.’

So Fionn went to the well and filled his palms with water; but he had only come half way to where Diarmid lay when he let the water run down between his fingers. ‘The water would not stay in my hands,’ he said, as he reached the rest.

‘You spilt it of your will,’ answered Diarmid.

For the second time Fionn set out to fetch the water, but returning he thought of Grania, and let it run upon the ground. Diarmid saw and sighed piteously. ‘I swear by my sword,’ cried Oscar, ‘that if this time you bring not that water either you or I, Fionn, shall leave our body here.’

And Fionn trembled when he heard those words, and brought back the water, but as he came to his side the life went out of Diarmid. And the company of the Fenians raised three exceeding great cries; while Oscar looked fiercely at Fionn, and told him it had been better for the Fenians had Fionn himself died, and not Diarmid. Then Fionn left the top of the mountain, leading Diarmid’s hound, and his Fenians came after. But Ossian and Oscar and two others returned and laid their four mantles over Diarmid, and when they had done that they went their ways after Fionn.

Now Grania was standing on the ramparts of her house when she saw Fionn and the Fenians approaching. She said to herself that if Diarmid were alive it was not Fionn who would lead his hound, and at this thought she swooned and fell heavily over the battlements. Ossian’s heart was full of pity, and he bade Fionn and the Fenians to go, and ran himself to help her, but she lifted her head and begged that Fionn would leave her the hound of Diarmid. Fionn said No, he would not; but Ossian took the stag-hound from Fionn’s hand and put it into Grania’s, and then followed after the Fenians.

When they had gone, Grania uttered a loud and grievous cry that was heard far round, so that the people came to her and asked her what was the matter, and when she told them that Diarmid was dead they sat down and wailed also. After that Grania sent five hundred men to bring her the body of Diarmid.

That night it was shown to Angus in a dream that Diarmid was dead on Ben Gulbain; and he was carried by the wind, and reached the place at the same moment as Grania’s men, who knew him, and held out the insides of their shields to him in token of peace. And they sent up three exceeding great cries, which were heard even at the gates of heaven.

Then Angus spoke: ‘There has not been one night since I took you, an infant of nine months old, to the Boyne that I have not watched over you, Diarmid, until last night, when Fionn did you basely to death, for all you were at peace with him.’ And he told Grania’s men he himself would bear Diarmid’s body to the Boyne. So the dead man was placed on a gilded bier with his javelins over him pointed upwards, and the men of Grania returned to their mistress, and said as Angus had bade them.

The first thing she did was to send messengers to her sons, who lived each in his own house,, and bade them come with their followings to the house of Grania, for that their father Diarmid had been foully slain by Fionn. They all came forthwith, and after they had eaten and drunk she pointed to the weapons and arms of Diarmid, and said they were theirs, and by them they should learn all arts of brave men, till they should reach their full strength, and after that they should avenge themselves on Fionn.

The sayings of Grania were whispered in the ears of Fionn, and a great fear fell upon him. He called his Fenians together, and told them how the sons of Diarmid had gone to their mother, and returned to their own homes again. ‘It is to rebel against me that they have done this,’ and he asked counsel in the matter. ‘The guilt is yours and no other man’s,’ spoke Ossian, ‘and we will not stand by you, for you slew Diarmid in time of peace.’

Without Ossian, Oscar, and their men Fionn knew that he could not conquer Grania, and resolved to try what cunning would do. So he slipped away secretly, and went to her house, and greeted her with soft words, in reply to her bitter ones. But so cunning was he that at last her wrath broke down, and she agreed to go with him back to his Fenians.

It was a long while before the Fenians knew who that could be walking by the side of Fionn, but when they did they laughed and mocked till Grania bowed her head for shame. ‘This time, Fionn, you will guard her well,’ said Ossian.

For seven years the sons of Diarmid exercised themselves in all the skill of a warrior, and then they came back to Grania’s house. There they learned how long ago Grania had fled with Fionn, and in wrath they set out to seek Fionn, and proclaimed battle against him. Fionn sent Dearing to ask how many men it would take to fight them, and they answered that each one of them would fight a hundred. So Fionn brought four hundred men, and the young men rushed under them and through them and over them, till there was not a man left. ‘What shall we do concerning these youths, Grania,’ said Fionn, ‘for I have not men enough to go through many such fights?’

‘I will visit them,’ answered Grania, ‘and will try to make peace between you.’

And Fionn bade her offer them terms such as no man then living would refuse, yet for long the young men did refuse them. But at the last the prayers of Grania prevailed, and peace was made, and Fionn and Grania lived together till they died.^[1]

1. From the Transactions of the Ossianic Society.