“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 I 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.
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.
For (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 Dáv, who was servant and foster-brother to Mongan. When Duv Laca went away with the King of Leinster, her servant, mac an Dáv’s wife, went with her, so there were two wifeless men in Ulster at that time, namely, Mongan the king and mac an Dáv his servant.
One day as Mongan sat in the sun, brooding lamentably on his fate, mac an Dáv came to him.
“How are things with you, master?” asked Mac an Dáv.
“Bad,” said Mongan.
“It was a poor day brought you off with Manannán to the Land of Promise,” said his servant.
“Why should you think that?” inquired Mongan.
“Because,” said mac an Dáv, “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 Dáv, “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 Dáv 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 Dáv, “for I am sorrier myself.”
Mongan roused himself then.
“You have a claim on me truly,” said he, “and I will not have anyone with a claim on me that is not satisfied. Go,” he said to mac an Dáv, “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 Dáv.
They set out then.
XIV
It was a long, uneasy journey, for although mac an Dáv 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 Lifé 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
