or The Fairy Quicken-Tree of Devorgilla. [*]
'Before the King
The bards will sing.
And there recall the stories all
That give renown to Ireland.'
Eighteenth Century Song.
Englished by George Sigerson.
* It seems probable that this tale records a real incident
which took place in Aunt David's garden. Penelope has
apparently listened with such attention to the old Celtic
romances as told by the Ard-ri and Dermot O'Dyna that she
has, consciously or unconsciously, reproduced something of
their atmosphere and phraseology. The delightful surprise at
the end must have been contrived by Salemina, when she, in
her character of Sheela the Scribe, gazed into the Horn of
Foreknowledge and learned the events that were to happen
that day.--K.D.W.
PEARLA'S STORY.
Three maidens once dwelt in a castle in that part of the Isle of Weeping
known as the cantred of Devorgilla, Devorgilla of the Green Hill Slopes;
and they were baptized according to druidical rites as Sheela the
Scribe, Finola the Festive, and Pearla the Melodious, though by the
dwellers in that land they were called the Fair Strangers, or the
Children of Corr the Swift-Footed.
This cantred of Devorgilla they acquired by paying rent and tribute to
the Wise Woman of Wales, who granted them to fish in its crystal streams
and to hunt over the green-sided hills, to roam through the woods of
yew-trees and to pluck the flowers of every hue that were laughing all
over the plains.
Thus were they circumstanced: Their palace of abode was never without
three shouts in it,--the shout of the maidens brewing tea, the shout of
the guests drinking it, and the shout of the assembled multitude playing
at their games. The same house was never without three measures,--a
measure of magic malt for raising the spirits, a measure of Attic salt
for the seasoning of tales, and a measure of poppy leaves to induce
sleep when the tales were dull.
And the manner of their lives was this: In the cool of the morning they
gathered nuts and arbutus apples and scarlet quicken berries to take
back with them to Tir-thar-toinn, the Country beyond the Wave; for this
was the land of their birth. When the sun was high in the east they went
forth to the chase; sometimes it was to hunt the Ard-ri, and at others
it was in pursuit of Dermot of the Bright Face. Then, after resting
awhile on their couches of soft rushes, they would perform champion
feats, or play on their harps, or fish in their clear-flowing streams
that were swimming with salmon.
The manner of their fishing was this: to cut a long, straight
sallow-tree rod, and having fastened a hook and one of Finola's hairs
upon it, to put a quicken-tree berry upon the hook, and stand on
the brink of the swift-flowing river, whence they drew out the
shining-skinned, silver-sided salmon. These they would straightway broil
over a little fire of birch boughs; and they needed with them no other
food but the magical loaf made by Toma, one of their house-servants. The
witch hag that dwelt on that hillside of Rosnaree called Fan-na-carpat,
or the Slope of the Chariots, had cast a druidical spell over Toma,
by which she was able to knead a loaf that would last twenty days and
twenty nights, and one mouthful of which would satisfy hunger for that
length of time. [**]
** Fact.
Not far from the mayden castle was a certain royal palace, with a
glittering roof, and the name of the palace was Rosnaree. And upon the
level green in front of the regal abode, or in the banqueting-halls,
might always be seen noble companies of knights and ladies bright,--some
feasting, some playing at the chess, some giving ear to the music of
their own harps, some continually shaking the Chain of Silence, and some
listening to the poems and tales of heroes of the olden time that were
told by the king's bards and shanachies.
Now all went happily with the Fair Strangers until the crimson berries
were ripening on the quicken-tree near the Fairy Palace. For the berries
possessed secret virtues known only to a man of the Dedannans, and
learned from him by Sheela the Scribe, who put him under gesa not to
reveal the charm to any one else. Whosoever ate of the honey-sweet,
scarlet-glowing fruit felt a cheerful flow of spirits, as if he had
tasted wine or mead, and whosoever ate a sufficient number of them
was almost certain to grow younger. These things were written in the
Speckled Book of Salemina, but in druidical ink, undecipherable to all
eyes but those of the Scribe herself.
So, wishing that none should possess the secret but themselves, the Fair
Strangers set the Gilla Dacker+ to watch the fruit (putting him first
under gesa to eat none of the berries himself, since he was already
too cheerful and too young to be of much service); and thus, in their
absence, the magical tree was never left alone.
+Could be freely translated as the Slothful Button Boy.
Nevertheless, when Finola the Festive went forth to the chase one day,
she found a quicken berry glowing like a ruby in the highroad, and
Sheela plucked a second from under a gnarled thorn on the Slope of the
Chariots, and Pearla discovered a third in the curiously-compounded,
swiftly-satisfying loaf of Toma. Then the Fair Strangers became very
angry, and sent out their trusty fleet-footed couriers to scour the land
for the invaders; for they knew that none of the Dedannans would take
the berries, being under gesa not to do so. But the couriers returned,
and though they were men able to trace the trail of a fox through nine
glens and nine rivers, they could discover no proof of the presence of a
foreign foe in the mayden cantred of Devorgilla.
Then the hearts of the Fair Strangers were filled with grief and gall,
for they distrusted the couriers, and having consulted the Ard-ri, they
set forth themselves to find and conquer the invader; for the king told
them that there was one other quicken-tree, more beautiful and more
magical than that growing by the Fairy Palace, and that it was set in
another part of the bright-blooming, sweet-scented old garden,--namely,
in the heart of the labyrinthine maze of the Wise Woman of Wales; but as
no one of them, neither the Gilla Dacker nor those who pursued him, had
ever, even with the aid of the Magic Thread-Clue, reached the heart of
the maze, there was no knowledge among them of the second quicken-tree.
The king also told Sheela the Scribe, secretly, that one of his knights
had found a money-piece and a breviary in the forest of Rosnaree; and
the silver was unlike any ever used in the country of the Dedannans, and
the breviary could belong only to a pious Gael known as Loskenn of the
Bare Knees.
Now Sheela the Scribe, having fasted from midnight until dawn, gazed
upon the Horn of Foreknowledge, and read there that it was wiser for her
to remain on guard at the Fairy Palace, while her sisters explored the
secret fastnesses of the labyrinth.
When Finola was apparelled to set forth upon her quest, Pearla thought
her the loveliest maiden upon the ridge of the world, and wondered
whether she meant to conquer the invader by force of arms or by the
power of beauty.
The rose and the lily were fighting together in her face, and one could
not tell which of them got the victory. Her arms and hands were like the
lime, her mouth was as red as a ripe strawberry, her foot as small and
as light as another one's hand, her form smooth and slender, and her
hair falling down from her head under combs of gold.++ One could not
look at her without being 'all over in love with her,' as Oisin said at
his first meeting with Niam of the Golden Hair. And as for Pearla, the
rose on her cheeks was heightened by her rage against the invader,
the delicate blossom of the sloe was not whiter than her neck, and her
glossy chestnut ringlets fell to her waist.
++ Description of the Princess in Guleesh na Guss Dhu.
Then the Gilla Dacker unleashed Bran, the keen-scented terrier hound,
and put a pearl-embroidered pillion on Enbarr of the Flowing Mane, and
the two dauntless maidens leaped upon her back, each bearing a broad
shield and a long polished, death-dealing spear. When Enbarr had been
given a free rein she set out for the labyrinth, trailing the Magic
Thread-Clue behind her, cleaving the air with long, active strides;
and if you know what the speed of a swallow is, flying across a
mountain-side, or the dry wind of a March day sweeping over the plains,
then you can understand nothing of the swiftness of this steed of the
flowing mane, acquired by the day by the maydens of Devorgilla.
Many were the dangers that beset the path of these two noble champions
on their quest for the Fairy Quicken Tree. Here they met an enormous
white stoat, but this was slain by the intrepid Bran, and they buried
its bleeding corse and raised a cairn over it, with the name 'Stoat'
graven on it in Ogam; there a druidical fairy mist sprang up in
their path to hide the way, but they pierced it with a note of their
far-reaching, clarion-toned voices,--an art learned in their native land
beyond the wave.
Now the dog Bran, being unhungered, and refusing to eat of Toma's loaf,
as all did who were ignorant of its druidical purpose, fell upon the
Magic Thread-Clue and tore it in twain. This so greatly affrighted the
champions that they sounded the Dord-Fian slowly and plaintively, hoping
that the war-cry might bring Sheela to their rescue. This availing
nothing, Finola was forced to slay Bran with her straight-sided,
silver-shining spear; but this she felt he would not mind if he could
know that he would share the splendid fate of the stoat, and speedily
have a cairn raised over him, with the word 'Bran' graven upon it in
Ogam,--since this is the consolation offered by the victorious living to
all dead Celtic heroes; and if it be a poor substitute for life, it is
at least better than nothing.
It was now many hours after noon, and though to the Fair Strangers it
seemed they had travelled more than forty or a hundred miles, they were
apparently no nearer than ever to the heart of the labyrinth: and this
from the first had been the pestiferous peculiarity of that malignantly
meandering maze. So they dismounted, and tied Enbarr to the branch of
a tree, while they refreshed themselves with a mouthful of Toma's loaf;
and Finola now put her thumb under her 'tooth of knowledge,' for she
wished new guidance and inspiration, and, being more than common modest,
she said: “Inasmuch as we are fairer than all the other maydens in this
labyrinth, why, since we cannot find the heart of the maze, do we not
entice the invaders from their hiding-place by the quicken-tree; and
when we see from what direction they advance, fall upon and slay them;
and after raising the usual cairn to their memory, and carving their
names over it in the customary Ogam, run to the enchanted tree and
gather all the berries that are left? For this is the hour when Sheela
brews the tea, and the knights and the ladies quaff it from our golden
cups; and truly I am weary of this quest, and far rather would I be
there than here.”
So Pearla the Melodious took her timpan, and chanted a Gaelic song
that she had learned in the country of the Dedannans; and presently a
round-polished, red-gleaming quicken berry dropped into her lap, and
another into Finola's, and, looking up, they saw nought save only a
cloud of quicken berries falling through the air one after the other.
And this caused them to wonder, for it seemed like unto a snare set for
them; but Pearla said, “There is nought remaining for us but to meet the
danger.”
“It is well,” replied Finola, shaking down the mantle of her ebon locks,
and setting the golden combs more firmly in them; “only, if I perish,
I prithee let there be no cairns or Ogams. Let me fall, as a beauty
should, face upward; and if it be but a swoon, and the invader be a
handsome prince, see that he wakens me in his own good way.”
“To arms, then!” cried Pearla, and, taking up their spears and shields,
the Fair Strangers dashed blindly in the direction whence the berries
fell.
“To arms indeed, but to yours or ours?” called two voices from the heart
of the labyrinth; and there, in an instant, the two brave champions,
Finola and Pearla, found the Fairy Tree hanging thick with scarlet
berries, and under its branches, fit fruit indeed to raise the spirits
or bring eternal youth, were, in the language of the Dedannans, Loskenn
of the Bare Knees and the Bishop of Ossory,--known to the Children of
Corr the Swift-Footed as Ronald Macdonald and Himself!
And the hours ran on; and Sheela the Scribe brewed and brewed and brewed
and brewed the tea at her table in the Peacock Walk, and the knights and
ladies quaffed it from the golden cups belonging to the Wise Woman of
Wales; but Finola the Festive and Pearla the Melodious lingered in the
labyrinth with Loskenn of the Bare Knees and the Bishop of Ossory. And
they said to one another, “Surely, if it were so great a task to find
the heart of this maze, we should be mad to stir from the spot, lest we
lose it again.”
And Pearla murmured, “That plan were wise indeed, save that the place
seemeth all too small for so many.”
Then Finola drew herself up proudly, and replied, “It is no smaller for
one than for another; but come, Loskenn, let us see if haply we can lose
ourselves in some path of our own finding.”
And this they did; and the content of them that departed was no greater
than the content of them that were left behind, and the sun hid himself
for very shame because the brightness of their joy was so much more
dazzling than the glory of his own face. And nothing more is told of
what befell them till they reached the threshold of the Old Hall; and it
was not the sun, but the moon, that shone upon their meeting with Sheela
the Scribe.