"Go," answered the Archbishop, "but do not stay long. Thanks be to G.o.d, the victory remains with you and me."
Alone Roland searched the battle-field; he went up the sides of the mountains, he descended into the plains, and everywhere he saw the dead faces of his friends. One after another he brought them, and laid them at the feet of Turpin, and at the sight of their faces the Archbishop wept sore. Then he held up his hand to bless them for the last time. "n.o.ble lords," he said, "you have fallen upon evil days.
May G.o.d receive your souls into His Paradise. As for me, among all the pains I suffer, the worst is that never shall I see my Emperor again."
Under a pine, close to a sweet-briar, the corpse of Oliver was lying, and Roland raised him in his arms and bare him to the Archbishop, where he laid him on a shield, near to the other peers. Then his heart broke with a cry, and he fell fainting beside Oliver. At the sight of Roland"s grief the Archbishop"s own sorrow grew double, and he stretched out his hand for the horn which lay near him. A stream ran down the valley of Roncevalles, and he dragged himself towards it, to fetch water to revive Roland. But he was too weak from the blood he had lost to reach the river, and he fell where he stood. "Pardon for my sins," he said, and died, the servant of G.o.d and of Charles. The cry was heard by Roland, who was slowly coming back to life, and he rose to his feet and went to the dead Archbishop and crossed his hands upon his breast. "Ah, n.o.ble Knight," he said, "in G.o.d"s hands I leave you, for never since the Apostles has He had a more faithful servant.
May your soul henceforth be free from sorrow, and may the Gates of Paradise stand wide for you to enter in!"
As he spoke, Roland knew that his own death was not far off. He made his peace with G.o.d, and took his horn in one hand and Durendal in the other. Then he mounted a small hill where stood two pine trees, but fell almost unconscious as soon as he reached the top. But a Saracen who had watched him, and had feigned to be dead, sprang up and seeing him cried, "Conquered! he is conquered, the nephew of Charles! and his famous sword will be carried into Arabia"; so he grasped Durendal tightly in his fist, and pulled Roland"s beard in derision. If the Saracen had been wise he would have left Roland"s beard alone, for at his touch the Count was brought back to consciousness. He felt his sword being taken from him, and with his horn, which was always beside him, he struck the Saracen such a blow on his helmet that he dropped Durendal, and sank dead to the earth. "Coward," said Roland, "who has told you that you might dare to set hands on Roland, living or dead?
You were not worthy a blow from my horn." Still death was pressing closer and closer, and Roland knew it. He rose panting for breath, his face as white as if he was already in the grave, and took Durendal out of its scabbard. Ten times he struck it hard on a brown rock before him, but the steel never gave way. "O my faithful Durendal, do you know that the hour of our parting has come?" he cried. "You have gained many battles for me, and won Charles many kingdoms. You shall never serve another master after I am dead." Again he smote the rock with all his force, but the steel of Durendal glanced aside. When Roland saw that he could not break it, he sat down and wept and lamented sore, calling back to him all the fights that they had fought together. Yet another time he struck, but the steel held good. Death was drawing nearer; what was he to do? Under a pine tree he laid himself down to die, his head resting on the green gra.s.s, his face turned towards the Infidels. Beneath him he placed Durendal and his horn. Alone on the mountain, looking towards Spain, he made the confession of his sins, and offered up his last prayer. Then he held up his right hand, and the Angels came and bore his soul to Paradise.
THE PURSUIT OF DIARMID
_THE PURSUIT OF DIARMID_
Fionn, the son of c.u.mhaill, rose early from his bed and went and sat upon the clearing of gra.s.s 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 hill-side 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 c.u.mhaill--Grania, the daughter of Cormac, who is fairer of speech and form than the daughters of other men."
Fionn looked up quickly at Dearing"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 n.o.bles 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 n.o.bles 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 c.u.mhaill.
"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, O Grania," said the King, "are two of the men of Fionn, the son of c.u.mhaill, 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 Fionn with a message summoning him to a tryst in a fortnight"s time.
When Ossian and Dearing were returned into Kildare, they found Fionn and his men, the Fenians, on the hill of Allen, and they told them 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 a.s.sembled seven battalions of his Fenians from wherever they might be, and they set forth in troops for the great plain where Cormac, King of Erin, had given them tryst.
[Ill.u.s.tration: GRANIA QUESTIONS THE DRUID]
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, O 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, O 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, O 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, O 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, O 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 pa.s.s 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, O 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, O 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."