Gods and Fighting Men by Lady I. A Gregory (portable ebook reader txt) 📕

of God, the way they are settled at

feasts, every good thing is more plentiful with them than with Finn's

people, however great their name was.

 

"Finn and the Fianna are lying now very sorrowful on the flag-stone of

pain; take the Son of God in their place; make your repentance and do

not lose Heaven."

 

OISIN. "I do not believe your talk now. O Patrick of the crooked staves,

Finn and the Fianna to be there within, unless they find pleasure being

in it."

 

PATRICK. "Make right repentance now, before you know when your end is

coming; God is better for one hour than the whole of the Fianna of

Ireland."

 

OISIN. "That is a daring answer to make to me, Patrick of the crooked

crozier; your crozier would be in little bits if I had Osgar with me

now.

 

"If my son Osgar and God were hand to hand on the Hill of the Fianna, if

I saw my son put down, I would say that God was a strong man.

 

"How could it be that God or his priests could be better men than Finn,

the King of the Fianna, a generous man without crookedness.

 

"If there was a place above or below better than the Heaven of God, it

is there Finn would go, and all that are with him of his people.

 

"You say that a generous man never goes to the hell of pain; there was

not one among the Fianna that was not generous to all.

 

"Ask of God, Patrick, does He remember when the Fianna were alive, or

has He seen east or west any man better than themselves in their

fighting.

 

"The Fianna used not to be saying treachery; we never had the name of

telling lies. By truth and the strength of our hands we came safe out of

every battle.

 

"There never sat a priest in a church, though you think it sweet to be

singing psalms, was better to his word than the Fianna, or more generous

than Finn himself.

 

"If my comrades were living to-night, I would take no pleasure in your

crooning in the church; as they are not living now, the rough voice of

the bells has deafened me.

 

"Och! in the place of battles and heavy fights, where I used to have my

place and to take my pleasure, the crozier of Patrick being carried, and

his clerks at their quarrelling.

 

"Och! slothful, cheerless Conan, it is great abuse I used to be giving

you; why do you not come to see me now? you would get leave for making

fun and reviling through the whole of the niggardly clerks.

 

"Och! where are the strong men gone that they do not come together to

help me! O Osgar of the sharp sword of victory, come and free your

father from his bonds!

 

"Where is the strong son of Lugaidh? Och! Diarmuid of all the women!

Och! Caoilte, son of Ronan, think of our love, and travel to me!"

 

PATRICK. "Stop your talk, you withered, witless old man; it is my King

that made the Heavens, it is He that gives blossom to the trees, it is

He made the moon and the sun, the fields and the grass."

 

OISIN. "It was not in shaping fields and grass that my king took his

delight, but in overthrowing fighting men, and defending countries, and

bringing his name into every part.

 

"In courting, in playing, in hunting, in baring his banner at the first

of a fight; in playing at chess, at swimming, in looking around him at

the drinking-hall.

 

"O Patrick, where was your God when the two came over the sea that

brought away the queen of Lochlann of the Ships? Where was He when Dearg

came, the son of the King of Lochlann of the golden shields? Why did not

the King of Heaven protect them from the blows of the big man?

 

"Or when Tailc, son of Treon, came, the man that did great slaughter on

the Fianna; it was not by God that champion fell, but by Osgar, in the

sight of all.

 

"Many a battle and many a victory was gained by the Fianna of Ireland; I

never heard any great deed was done by the King of Saints, or that He

ever reddened His hand.

 

"It would be a great shame for God not to take the locks of pain off

Finn; if God Himself were in bonds, my king would fight for His sake.

 

"Finn left no one in pain or in danger without freeing him by silver or

gold, or by fighting till he got the victory.

 

"For the strength of your love, Patrick, do not forsake the great men;

bring in the Fianna unknown to the King of Heaven.

 

"It is a good claim I have on your God, to be among his clerks the way I

am; without food, without clothing, without music, without giving

rewards to poets.

 

"Without the cry of the hounds or the horns, without guarding coasts,

without courting generous women; for all that I have suffered by the

want of food, I forgive the King of Heaven in my will."

 

Oisin said: "My story is sorrowful. The sound of your voice is not

pleasant to me. I will cry my fill, but not for God, but because Finn

and the Fianna are not living."

 

CHAPTER IV. (OISIN'S LAMENTS)

And Oisin used to be making laments, and sometimes he would be making

praises of the old times and of Finn; and these are some of them that

are remembered yet:--

 

     I saw the household of Finn; it was not the household of a soft

     race; I had a vision of that man yesterday.

 

     I saw the household of the High King, he with the brown,

     sweet-voiced son; I never saw a better man.

 

     I saw the household of Finn; no one saw it as I saw it; I saw Finn

     with the sword, Mac an Luin. Och! it was sorrowful to see it.

 

     I cannot tell out every harm that is on my head; free us from our

     trouble for ever; I have seen the household of Finn.

 

It is a week from yesterday I last saw Finn; I never saw a braver man. A

king of heavy blows; my law, my adviser, my sense and my wisdom, prince

and poet, braver than kings, King of the Fianna, brave in all countries;

golden salmon of the sea, clean hawk of the air, rightly taught,

avoiding lies; strong in his doings, a right judge, ready in courage, a

high messenger in bravery and in music.

 

His skin lime-white, his hair golden; ready to work, gentle to women.

His great green vessels full of rough sharp wine, it is rich the king

was, the head of his people.

 

Seven sides Finn's house had, and seven score shields on every side.

Fifty fighting men he had about him having woollen cloaks; ten bright

drinking-cups in his hall; ten blue vessels, ten golden horns.

 

It is a good household Finn had, without grudging, without lust, without

vain boasting, without chattering, without any slur on any one of the

Fianna.

 

Finn never refused any man; he never put away any one that came to his

house. If the brown leaves falling in the woods were gold, if the white

waves were silver, Finn would have given away the whole of it.

 

Blackbird of Doire an Chairn, your voice is sweet; I never heard on any

height of the world music was sweeter than your voice, and you at the

foot of your nest.

 

The music is sweetest in the world, it is a pity not to be listening to

it for a while, O son of Calphurn of the sweet bells, and you would

overtake your nones again.

 

If you knew the story of the bird the way I know it, you would be crying

lasting tears, and you would give no heed to your God for a while.

 

In the country of Lochlann of the blue streams, Finn, son of Cumhal, of

the red-gold cups, found that bird you hear now; I will tell you its

story truly.

 

Doire an Chairn, that wood there to the west, where the Fianna used to

be delaying, it is there they put the blackbird, in the beauty of the

pleasant trees.

 

The stag of the heather of quiet Cruachan, the sorrowful croak from the

ridge of the Two Lakes; the voice of the eagle of the Valley of the

Shapes, the voice of the cuckoo on the Hill of Brambles.

 

The voice of the hounds in the pleasant valley; the scream of the eagle

on the edge of the wood; the early outcry of the hounds going over the

Strand of the Red Stones.

 

The time Finn lived and the Fianna, it was sweet to them to be listening

to the whistle of the blackbird; the voice of the bells would not have

been sweet to them.

 

 

There was no one of the Fianna without his fine silken shirt and his

soft coat, without bright armour, without shining stones on his head,

two spears in his hand, and a shield that brought victory.

 

If you were to search the world you would not find a harder man, best of

blood, best in battle; no one got the upper hand of him. When he went

out trying his white hound, which of us could be put beside Finn?

 

One time we went hunting on Slieve-nam-ban; the sun was beautiful

overhead, the voice of the hounds went east and west, from hill to hill.

Finn and Bran sat for a while on the hill, every man was jealous for the

hunt. We let out three thousand hounds from their golden chains; every

hound of them brought down two deer.

 

Patrick of the true crozier, did you ever see, east or west, a greater

hunt than that hunt of Finn and the Fianna? O son of Calphurn of the

bells, that day was better to me than to be listening to your

lamentations in the church.

 

       *       *       *       *       *

 

There is no strength in my hands to-night, there is no power within me;

it is no wonder I to be sorowful, being thrown down in the sorrow of old

age.

 

Everything is a grief to me beyond any other man on the face of the

earth, to be dragging stones along to the church and the hill of the

priests.

 

I have a little story of our people. One time Finn had a mind to make a

dun on the bald hill of Cuailgne, and he put it on the Fianna of Ireland

to bring stones for building it; a third on the sons of Morna, a third

on myself, and a third on the sons of Baiscne.

 

I gave an answer to Finn, son of Cumhal; I said I would be under his

sway no longer, and that I would obey him no more.

 

When Finn heard that, he was silent a long time, the man without a He,

without fear. And he said to me then: "You yourself will be dragging

stones before your death comes to you."

 

I rose up then with anger on me, and there followed me the fourth of the

brave battalions of the Fianna. I gave my own judgments, there were many

of the Fianna with me.

 

Now my strength is gone from me, I that was adviser to the Fianna; my

whole body is tired to-night, my hands, my feet, and my head, tired,

tired, tired.

 

It is bad the way I am after Finn of the Fianna; since he is gone away,

every good is behind me.

 

Without great people, without mannerly ways; it is sorrowful I am after

our king that is gone.

 

I am a shaking tree, my leaves gone from me; an empty nut, a horse

without a bridle; a people without a dwelling-place, I Oisin, son of

Finn.

 

       *       *       *       *       *

 

It is long the clouds are over me to-night! it is long last night was;

although this day is long, yesterday was longer again to me; every day

that comes