False Dearvorgil
Woe to the House of Breffni, and to Red O’Ruark woe!
Woe to us all in Erinn for the shame that laid us low!
And cursed be you, Dearvorgil, who severed north and south,
And ruin brought to Erinn with the smiling of your mouth.
It is the Prince of Breffni rides quick in the pale of day,
Deep in his eyes a shadow, a frown on his forehead lay;
And spur and bit not sparing, he rests nor horse nor page,
But rides into his castle like a man who wins a wage.
And up the twisting staircase, into his lady’s room,
He strides with frowning forehead, like a man to meet his doom,
But from his lady’s chamber he comes with sobbing breath,
With a joy upon his white lips, like a man escaped from death.
‘And shame be mine, Dearvorgil,’ beneath his beard said he,
‘That I should stoop to listen to a slander told to me.
And shame be mine, Macmurrah, that I should half believe
You could be false to kingship by stooping to deceive.’
But in the lady’s chamber the little page did frown,
And on his cheek so crimson the bitter tears fell down.
‘And false she is and cruel, to a knight so brave and true,
And I wot now she is distant, thus leaving him the rue.
’I wot now she is riding far upon her palfrey white,
And the comrade there beside her is not her own true knight—
A plague upon all women, from north to sunny south,
Since my lips are dumb to honour for the smiling of her mouth!’
But O’Ruark went out right gladly for the lie the page had said,
How his lady still lay resting so weary on her bed;
And he went out to the terrace to cool his fevered cheek,
There he saw his kern a-watching, like one afraid to speak.
‘What see you from your tower now, O kern?’ he turned and cried.
‘I see one on the near hills upon a king’s horse ride.’
‘What see you from your watch, kern does nothing else appear?’
‘There hides one on the terrace, with her eyes all full of fear.’
‘And who are you in hiding, who goes ’neath this late moon?’
‘I am your true Dearvorgil, glad you are home thus soon.’
‘No hour for wives to ramble; but wherefore do you weep?’
‘With joy for your returning—I wandered in my sleep.’
‘Joy’s tears are summer rain, Queen—your eyes are sad and red.’
‘A dream of evil-boding, and that was all my dread.’
‘What was the dream distressful that made your face so white?’
‘I dreamt that storm and thunder surrounded you to-night.’
‘My lady, storm and thunder ride on the near hill’s side.’
‘Then hasten into shelter!’ the lady paled and cried.
‘In from the lash of tempest I dare not turn to go,
Lest, coming up from Leinster, it might lay Ulster low.’
‘My lord, the moon is waning, the dawn grows calm and clear,
There is no angry weather, and wherefore do you fear?’
‘My lady, hush! the kern sees something on the way.’
‘My lord, why listen to him?—I have such news to say.’
‘Nay, I shall hear! be silent! O kern, what do you see?
If there’s aught on the highroad, now quickly tell to me.’
‘I see one by the pine-wood come on a charger white,
He seeks the shadow always, as though he fears the light.’
‘Half-blind the kern, and aged, all wizen, cold, and grey,
A wolf is on the highroad, who hurries quick away.’
‘A wolf, Queen, is a danger who in the shade does go,
At the thief who seeks the night-time I quick shall bend my bow.’
(She screams.)
‘Why did you scream, Dearvorgil, disturbing so my aim?’
‘My bodkin pierced me sorely, and that is all my blame.’
‘Then, cry out not so loudly, lest he should turn away.’
‘My lord has but to bid me, and ever I obey.’
‘Look, kern, again, and answer, where creeps the lone wolf now?’
‘I see a king’s plume waving by yonder oak-tree’s bough.’
‘It is a hawk he watches, that is hanging there so low.’
‘Then at that bird of evil, dark death, I’ll bend my bow.’
‘Again you scream, Dearvorgil, and you would have him hear?’
‘A bat that flew across me was all that made me fear.’
‘The wolf speeds down the highroad all at your lady’s cry,
The hawk has spread his dark wings, and seeks another sky.’
‘Why should we heed the grey hawk?—Let him fly off to his nest
Why should we heed the lone wolf?—Let him go in peace to rest.’
‘My lady, neither beast nor bird slunk round my home to-night;
It is a high and haughty prince who rides away in fright.’
‘And wherefore should you wax so pale, if beast or king it be,
Since for me there is but one prince, who stands all wroth with me?
There, let the blind kern find his kings in wolf, or hawk, or dove,
But come you from the cold, my lord, into your lady’s love.’
And therefore, as we do believe that which we most desire,
She wooed suspicion from him, and stilled his jealous ire,
But the little page went sighing, ‘A plague may women win—
She has put the anger from him with the dimples in her chin.’
Woe to the House of Breffni, and to the red O’Ruark woe!
And woe to us in Erinn for the shame which laid us low!
And cursed be you, Dearvorgil, who eloped into the south,
And made war loud in Erinn with the smiling of your mouth.
