Book: Irish Fairy Tales

J >> James Stephens >> Irish Fairy Tales




"You can come down now," said Mananna'n.

"That dog can't climb a tree," said the man in the branch above
the king warningly.

"Praise be to the gods!" said the man who was above him.

"Amen!" said the warrior who was higher up than that. And the man
in the next tree said:

"Don't move a hand or a foot until the dog chokes himself to
death on the dead meat."

The dog, however, did not eat a bit of the meat. He trotted to
his master, and Mananna'n took him up and wrapped him in his
cloak.

"Now you can come down," said he.

"I wish that dog was dead!" said the king.

But he swung himself out of the tree all the same, for he did not
wish to seem frightened before Mananna'n . "You can go now and
beat the men of Lochlann," said Mananna'n. "You will be King of
Lochlann before nightfall."

"I wouldn't mind that," said theking. "It's no threat," said
Mananna'n.

The son of Lir turned then and went away in the direction of
Ireland to take up his one-day rights, and Fiachna continued his
battle with the Lochlannachs.

He beat them before nightfall, and by that victory he became King
of Lochlann and King of the Saxons and the Britons.

He gave the Black Hag seven castles with their territories, and
he gave her one hundred of every sort of cattle that he had
captured. She was satisfied.

Then he went back to Ireland, and after he had been there for
some time his wife gave birth to a son.



CHAPTER VIII

"You have not told me one word about Duv Laca," said the Flame
Lady reproachfully.

"I am coming to that," replied Mongan.

He motioned towards one of the great vats, and wine was brought
to him, of which he drank so joyously and so deeply that all
people wondered at his thirst, his capacity, and his jovial
spirits.

"Now, I will begin again."


Said Mongan: There was an attendant in Fiachna Finn's palace who
was called An Da'v, and the same night that Fiachna's wife bore a
son, the wife of An Da'v gave birth to a son also. This latter
child was called mac an Da'v, but the son of Fiachna's wife was
named Mongan.

"Ah!" murmured the Flame Lady.

The queen was angry. She said it was unjust and presumptuous that
the servant should get a child at the same time that she got one
herself, but there was no help for it, because the child was
there and could not be obliterated.

Now this also must be told.

There was a neighbouring prince called Fiachna Duv, and he was
the ruler of the Dal Fiatach. For a long time he had been at
enmity and spiteful warfare with Fiachna Finn; and to this
Fiachna Duv there was born in the same night a daughter, and this
girl was named Duv Laca of the White Hand.

"Ah!" cried the Flame Lady.

"You see!" said Mongan, and he drank anew and joyously of the
fairy wine.

In order to end the trouble between Fiachna Finn and Fiachna Duv
the babies were affianced to each other in the cradle on the day
after they were born, and the men of Ireland rejoiced at that
deed and at that news. But soon there came dismay and sorrow in
the land, for when the little Mongan was three days old his real
father, Mananna'n the son of Lir, appeared in the middle of the
palace. He wrapped Mongan in his green cloak and took him away to
rear and train in the Land of Promise, which is beyond the sea
that is at the other side of the grave.

When Fiachna Duv heard that Mongan, who was affianced to his
daughter Duv Laca, had disappeared, he considered that his
compact of peace was at an end, and one day he came by surprise
and attacked the palace. He killed Fiachna Finn in that battle,
and be crowned himself King of Ulster.

The men of Ulster disliked him, and they petitioned Mananna'n to
bring Mongan back, but Mananna'n would not do this until the boy
was sixteen years of age and well reared in the wisdom of the
Land of Promise. Then he did bring Mongan back, and by his means
peace was made between Mongan and Fiachna Duv, and Mongan was
married to his cradle-bride, the young Duv Laca.



CHAPTER IX

One day Mongan and Duv Laca were playing chess in their palace.
Mongan had just made a move of skill, and he looked up from the
board to see if Duv Laca seemed as discontented as she had a
right to be. He saw then over Duv Laca's shoulder a little
black-faced, tufty-headed cleric leaning against the door-post
inside the room.

"What are you doing there?" said Mongan.

"What are you doing there yourself?" said the little black-faced
cleric.

"Indeed, I have a right to be in my own house," said Mongan.

"Indeed I do not agree with you," said the cleric.

"Where ought I be, then?" said Mongan.

"You ought to be at Dun Fiathac avenging the murder of your
father," replied the cleric, "and you ought to be ashamed of
yourself for not having done it long ago. You can play chess with
your wife when you have won the right to leisure."

"But how can I kill my wife's father?" Mongan exclaimed. "By
starting about it at once," said the cleric. "Here is a way of
talking!" said Mongan.

"I know," the cleric continued, "that Duv Laca will not agree
with a word I say on this subject, and that she will try to
prevent you from doing what you have a right to do, for that is a
wife's business, but a man's business is to do what I have just
told you; so come with me now and do not wait to think about it,
and do not wait to play any more chess. Fiachna Duv has only a
small force with him at this moment, and we can burn his palace
as he burned your father's palace, and kill himself as he killed
your father, and crown you King of Ulster rightfully the way he
crowned himself wrongfully as a king."

"I begin to think that you own a lucky tongue, my black-faced
friend," said Mongan, "and I will go with you."

He collected his forces then, and he burned Fiachna Duv's
fortress, and he killed Fiachna Duv, and he was crowned King of
Ulster.

Then for the first time he felt secure and at liberty to play
chess. But he did not know until afterwards that the black-faced,
tufty-headed person was his father Mananna'n, although that was
the fact.

There are some who say, however, that Fiachna the Black was
killed in the year 624 by the lord of the Scot's Dal Riada,
Condad Cerr, at the battle of Ard Carainn; but the people who say
this do not know what they are talking about, and they do not
care greatly what it is they say.



CHAPTER X

"There is nothing to marvel about in this Duv Laca," said the
Flame Lady scornfully. "She has got married, and she has been
beaten at chess. It has happened before."

"Let us keep to the story," said Mongan, and, having taken some
few dozen deep draughts of the wine, he became even more jovial
than before. Then he recommenced his tale:

It happened on a day that Mongan had need of treasure. He had
many presents to make, and he had not as much gold and silver and
cattle as was proper for a king. He called his nobles together
and discussed what was the best thing to be done, and it was
arranged that he should visit the provincial kings and ask boons
from them.

He set out at once on his round of visits, and the first province
he went to was Leinster.

The King of Leinster at that time was Branduv, the son of Echach.
He welcomed Mongan and treated him well, and that night Mongan
slept in his palace.

When he awoke in the morning he looked out of a lofty window, and
he saw on the sunny lawn before the palace a herd of cows. There
were fifty cows in all, for he counted them, and each cow had a
calf beside her, and each cow and calf was pure white in colour,
and each of them had red ears.

When Mongan saw these cows, he fell in love with them as he had
never fallen in love with anything before.

He came down from the window and walked on the sunny lawn among
the cows, looking at each of them and speaking words of affection
and endearment to them all; and while he was thus walking and
talking and looking and loving, he noticed that some one was
moving beside him. He looked from the cows then, and saw that the
King of Leinster was at his side.

"Are you in love with the cows?" Branduv asked him.

"I am," said Mongan.

"Everybody is," said the King of Leinster.

"I never saw anything like them," said Mongan.

"Nobody has," said the King of Leinster.

"I never saw anything I would rather have than these cows," said
Mongan.

"These," said the King of Leinster, "are the most beautiful cows
in Ireland, and," he continued thoughtfully, "Duv Laca is the
most beautiful woman in Ireland."

"There is no lie in what you say," said Mongan.

"Is it not a queer thing," said the King of Leinster, "that I
should have what you want with all your soul, and you should have
what I want with all my heart?"

"Queer indeed," said Mongan, "but what is it that you do want?"

"Duv Laca, of course," said the King of Leinster.

"Do you mean," said Mongan, "that you would exchange this herd of
fifty pure white cows having red ears-- "

"And their fifty calves," said the King of Leinster--

"For Duv Laca, or for any woman in the world?"

"I would," cried the King of Leinster, and he thumped his knee as
he said it.

"Done," roared Mongan, and the two kings shook hands on the
bargain.

Mongan then called some of his own people, and before any more
words could be said and before any alteration could be made, he
set his men behind the cows and marched home with them to Ulster.



CHAPTER XI

Duv Laca wanted to know where the cows came from, and Mongan told
her that the King of Leinster had given them to him. She fell in
love with them as Mongan had done, but there was nobody in the
world could have avoided loving those cows: such cows they were!
such wonders! Mongan and Duv Laca used to play chess together,
and then they would go out together to look at the cows, and then
they would go in together and would talk to each other about the
cows. Everything they did they did together, for they loved to be
with each other.

However, a change came.

One morning a great noise of voices and trampling of horses and
rattle of armour came about the palace. Mongan looked from the
window.

"Who is coming?" asked Duv Laca.

But he did not answer her.

"The noise must announce the visit of a king," Duv Laca
continued.

But Mongan did not say a word. Duv Laca then went to the window.

"Who is that king?" she asked.

And her husband replied to her then.

"That is the King of Leinster," said he mournfully.

"Well," said Duv Laca surprised, "is he not welcome?"

"He is welcome indeed," said Mongan lamentably.

"Let us go out and welcome him properly," Duv Laca suggested.

"Let us not go near him at all," said Mongan, "for he is coming
to complete his bargain."

"What bargain are you talking about?" Duv Laca asked. But Mongan
would not answer that.

"Let us go out," said he, "for we must go out."

Mongan and Duv Laca went out then and welcomed the King of
Leinster. They brought him and his chief men into the palace, and
water was brought for their baths, and rooms were appointed for
them, and everything was done that should be done for guests.

That night there was a feast, and after the feast there was a
banquet, and all through the feast and the banquet the King of
Leinster stared at Duv Laca with joy, and sometimes his breast
was delivered of great sighs, and at times he moved as though in
perturbation of spirit and mental agony.

"There is something wrong with the King of Leinster," Duv Laca
whispered.

"I don't care if there is," said Mongan.

"You must ask what he wants."

"But I don't want to know it," said Mongan. "Nevertheless, you
musk ask him," she insisted.

So Mongan did ask him, and it was in a melancholy voice that he
asked it.

"Do you want anything?" said he to the King of Leinster.

"I do indeed," said Branduv.

"If it is in Ulster I will get it for you," said Mongan
mournfully.

"It is in Ulster," said Branduv.

Mongan did not want to say anything more then, but the King of
Leinster was so intent and everybody else was listening and Duv
Laca was nudging his arm, so he said: "What is it that you do
want?" "I want Duv Laca."

"I want her too," said Mongan.

"You made your bargain," said the King of Leinster, "my cows and
their calves for your Duv Laca, and the man that makes a bargain
keeps a bargain."

"I never before heard," said Mongan, "of a man giving away his
own wife."

"Even if you never heard of it before, you must do it now," said
Duv Laca, "for honour is longer than life."

Mongan became angry when Duv Laca said that. His face went red as
a sunset, and the veins swelled in his neck and his forehead.

"Do you say that?" he cried to Duv Laca.

"I do," said Duv Laca.

"Let the King of Leinster take her," said Mongan.



CHAPTER XII

Duv Laca and the King of Leinster went apart then to speak
together, and the eye of the king seemed to be as big as a plate,
so fevered was it and so enlarged and inflamed by the look of Duv
Laca. He was so confounded with joy also that his words got mixed
up with his teeth, and Duv Laca did not know exactly what it was
he was trying to say, and he did not seem to know himself. But at
last he did say something intelligible, and this is what he said.

"I am a very happy man," said he.

"And I," said Duv Laca, "am the happiest woman in the world."

"Why should you be happy?" the astonished king demanded.

"Listen to me," she said. "If you tried to take me away from this
place against my own wish, one half of the men of Ulster would be
dead before you got me and the other half would be badly wounded
in my defence."

"A bargain is a bargain," the King of Leinster began.

"But," she continued, "they will not prevent my going away, for
they all know that I have been in love with you for ages."

"What have you been in with me for ages?" said the amazed king.

"In love with you," replied Duv Laca.

"This is news," said the king, "and it is good news."

"But, by my word," said Duv Laca, "I will not go with you unless
you grant me a boon."

"All that I have," cried Branduv, "and all that every-body has."

"And you must pass your word and pledge your word that you will
do what I ask."

"I pass it and pledge it," cried the joyful king.

"Then," said Duv Laca, "this is what I bind on you."

"Light the yolk!" he cried.

"Until one year is up and out you are not to pass the night in
any house that I am in."

"By my head and hand!" Branduv stammered.

"And if you come into a house where I am during the time and term
of that year, you are not to sit down in the chair that I am
sitting in."

"Heavy is my doom!" he groaned.

"But," said Duv Laca, "if I am sitting in a chair or a seat you
are to sit in a chair that is over against me and opposite to me
and at a distance from me."

"Alas!" said the king, and he smote his hands together, and then
he beat them on his head, and then he looked at them and at
everything about, and he could not tell what anything was or
where anything was, for his mind was clouded and his wits had
gone astray.

"Why do you bind these woes on me?" he pleaded.


"I wish to find out if you truly love me."

"But I do," said the king. "I love you madly and dearly, and with
all my faculties and members."

"That is the way ! love you," said Duv Laca. "We shall have a
notable year of courtship and joy. And let us go now," she
continued, "for I am impatient to be with you."

"Alas!" said Branduv, as he followed her. "Alas, alas!" said the
King of Leinster.



CHAPTER XIII

"I think," said the Flame Lady, "that whoever lost that woman had
no reason to be sad."

Mongan took her chin in his hand and kissed her lips.

"All that you say is lovely, for you are lovely," said he, "and
you are my delight and the joy of the world."

Then the attendants brought him wine, and he drank so joyously of
that and so deeply, that those who observed him thought he would
surely burst and drown them. But he laughed loudly and with
enormous delight, until the vessels of gold and silver and bronze
chimed mellowly to his peal and the rafters of the house went
creaking.

Said he:

Mongan loved Duv Laca of the White Hand better than he loved his
life, better than he loved his honour. The kingdoms of the world
did not weigh with him beside the string of her shoe. He would
not look at a sunset if he could see her. He would not listen to
a harp if he could hear her speak, for she was the delight of
ages, the gem of time, and the wonder of the world till Doom.

She went to Leinster with the king of that country, and when she
had gone Mongan fell grievously sick, so that it did not seem he
could ever recover again; and he began to waste and wither, and
he began to look like a skeleton, and a bony structure, and a
misery.

Now this also must be known.

Duv Laca had a young attendant, who was her foster-sister as well
as her servant, and on the day that she got married to Mongan,
her attendant was married to mac an Da'v, who was servant and
foster-brother to Mongan. When Duv Laca went away with the King
of Leinster, her servant, mac an Da'v's wife, went with her, so
there were two wifeless men in Ulster at that time, namely,
Mongan the king and mac an Da'v his servant.

One day as Mongan sat in the sun, brooding lamentably on his
fate, mac an Da'v came to him.

"How are things with you, master?" asked Mac an Da'v.

"Bad," said Mongan.

"It was a poor day brought you off with Mananna'n to the Land of
Promise," said his servant.

"Why should you think that?" inquired Mongan.

"Because," said mac an Da'v, "you learned nothing in the Land of
Promise except how to eat a lot of food and how to do nothing in
a deal of time."

"What business is it of yours?" said Mongan angrily.

"It is my business surely," said mac an Da'v, "for my wife has
gone off to Leinster with your wife, and she wouldn't have gone
if you hadn't made a bet and a bargain with that accursed king."

Mac an Da'v began to weep then.

"I didn't make a bargain with any king," said he, "and yet my
wife has gone away with one, and it's all because of you."

"There is no one sorrier for you than I am," said Mongan.

"There is indeed," said mac an Da'v, "for I am sorrier myself."

Mongan roused himself then.

"You have a claim on me truly," said he, "and I will not have any
one with a claim on me that is not satisfied. Go," he said to mac
an Da'v, "to that fairy place we both know of. You remember the
baskets I left there with the sod from Ireland in one and the sod
from Scotland in the other; bring me the baskets and sods."

"Tell me the why of this?" said his servant.

"The King of Leinster will ask his wizards what I am doing, and
this is what I will be doing. I will get on your back with a foot
in each of the baskets, and when Branduv asks the wizards where I
am they will tell him that I have one leg in Ireland and one leg
in Scotland, and as long as they tell him that he will think he
need not bother himself about me, and we will go into Leinster
that way."

"No bad way either," said mac an Da'v.

They set out then.



CHAPTER XIV

It was a long, uneasy journey, for although mac an Da'v was of
stout heart and goodwill, yet no man can carry another on his
back from Ulster to Leinster and go quick. Still, if you keep on
driving a pig or a story they will get at last to where you wish
them to go, and the man who continues putting one foot in front
of the other will leave his home behind, and will come at last to
the edge of the sea and the end of the world.

When they reached Leinster the feast of Moy Life' was being held,
and they pushed on by forced marches and long stages so as to be
in time, and thus they came to the Moy of Cell Camain, and they
mixed with the crowd that were going to the feast.

A great and joyous concourse of people streamed about them. There
were young men and young girls, and when these were not holding
each other's hands it was because their arms were round each
other's necks. There were old, lusty women going by, and when
these were not talking together it was because their mouths were
mutually filled with apples and meat-pies. There were young
warriors with mantles of green and purple and red flying behind
them on the breeze, and when these were not looking disdainfully
on older soldiers it was because the older soldiers happened at
the moment to be looking at them. There were old warriors with
yard-long beards flying behind their shoulders llke wisps of hay,
and when these were not nursing a broken arm or a cracked skull,
it was because they were nursing wounds in their stomachs or
their legs. There were troops of young women who giggled as long
as their breaths lasted and beamed when it gave out. Bands of
boys who whispered mysteriously together and pointed with their
fingers in every direction at once, and would suddenly begin to
run like a herd of stampeded horses. There were men with carts
full of roasted meats. Women with little vats full of mead, and
others carrying milk and beer. Folk of both sorts with towers
swaying on their heads, and they dripping with honey. Children
having baskets piled with red apples, and old women who peddled
shell-fish and boiled lobsters. There were people who sold twenty
kinds of bread, with butter thrown in. Sellers of onions and
cheese, and others who supplied spare bits of armour, odd
scabbards, spear handles, breastplate-laces. People who cut your
hair or told your fortune or gave you a hot bath in a pot. Others
who put a shoe on your horse or a piece of embroidery on your
mantle; and others, again, who took stains off your sword or dyed
your finger-nails or sold you a hound.

It was a great and joyous gathering that was going to the feast.

Mongan and his servant sat against a grassy hedge by the roadside
and watched the multitude streaming past.

Just then Mongan glanced to the right whence the people were
coming. Then he pulled the hood of his cloak over his ears and
over his brow.

"Alas!" said he in a deep and anguished voice.

Mac an Da'v turned to him.

"Is it a pain in your stomach, master?"

"It is not," said Mongan. "Well, what made you make that brutal
and belching noise?"

"It was a sigh I gave," said Mongan.

"Whatever it was," said mac an Da'v, "what was it?"

"Look down the road on this side and tell me who is coming," said
his master.

"It is a lord with his troop."

"It is the King of Leinster," said Mongan. "The man," said mac an
Da'v in a tone of great pity, "the man that took away your wife!
And," he roared in a voice of extraordinary savagery, "the man
that took away my wife into the bargain, and she not in the
bargain."

"Hush," said Mongan, for a man who heard his shout stopped to tie
a sandie, or to listen.

"Master," said mac an Da'v as the troop drew abreast and moved
past.

"What is it, my good friend?"

"Let me throw a little, small piece of a rock at the King of
Leinster."

"I will not."

"A little bit only, a small bit about twice the size of my head"

"I will not let you," said Mongan.

When the king had gone by mac an Da'v groaned a deep and dejected
groan.

"Oco'n!" said he. "Oco'n-i'o-go-deo'!" said he.

The man who had tied his sandal said then: "Are you in pain,
honest man?"

"I am not in pain," said mac an Da'v.

"Well, what was it that knocked a howl out of you like the yelp
of a sick dog, honest man?"

"Go away," said mac an Da'v, "go away, you flat-faced, nosey
person." "There is no politeness left in this country," said the
stranger, and he went away to a certain distance, and from thence
he threw a stone at mac an Da'v's nose, and hit it.



CHAPTER XV

The road was now not so crowded as it had been. Minutes would
pass and only a few travellers would come, and minutes more would
go when nobody was in sight at all.

Then two men came down the road: they were clerics.

"I never saw that kind of uniform before," said mac an Da'v.

"Even if you didn't," said Mongan, "there are plenty of them
about. They are men that don't believe in our gods," said he.

"Do they not, indeed?" said mac an Da'v. "The rascals!" said he.
"What, what would Mananna'n say to that?"

"The one in front carrying the big book is Tibraide'. He is the
priest of Cell Camain, and he is the chief of those two."

"Indeed, and indeed!" said mac an Da'v. "The one behind must be
his servant, for he has a load on his back."

The priests were reading their offices, and mac an Da'v marvelled
at that.


"What is it they are doing?" said he.

"They are reading."

"Indeed, and indeed they are," said mac an Da'v. "I can't make
out a word of the language except that the man behind says amen,
amen, every time the man in front puts a grunt out of him. And
they don't like our gods at all!" said mac an Da'v.

"They do not," said Mongan.

"Play a trick on them, master," said mac an Da'v. Mongan agreed
to play a trick on the priests.

He looked at them hard for a minute, and then he waved his hand
at them.

The two priests stopped, and they stared straight in front of
them, and then they looked at each other, and then they looked at
the sky. The clerk began to bless himself, and then Tibraide'
began to bless himself, and after that they didn't know what to
do. For where there had been a road with hedges on each side and
fields stretching beyond them, there was now no road, no hedge,
no field; but there was a great broad river sweeping across their
path; a mighty tumble of yellowy-brown waters, very swift, very
savage; churning and billowing and jockeying among rough boulders
and islands of stone. It was a water of villainous depth and of
detestable wetness; of ugly hurrying and of desolate cavernous
sound. At a little to their right there was a thin uncomely
bridge that waggled across the torrent.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.