Lavarcham came to her as promised, and she told Deirdre for hours of
the delights to come.
“In a week,” she said, “you will be gone from here, and our home will
be desolate indeed. But although the king called this a bleak den, and
spoke of our demesne as a mangy field, he was not right in doing so.
A house is bleak that has no children running and shouting in it, and
this house will be bleak when you are gone; but in all other respects
a cleaner or better appointed dwelling will not be found in the Five
Great Fifths of Ireland; mark me well, child, the king was excited and
unjust, and I shall tell him so. When you rule in Emania you will find
how difficult it is to keep all things in order, and how hard it is to
have even one room clean; for men will be stirring at all hours of the
day and night in your palace, and although they can make a home in a
field men make nothing but dirt in a house.
“You will have much to do and to remember, my secret bud, but, above
all, you must remember the genealogies of Ireland and the precedences
of the court as I have taught them to you, and in any doubt or dispute
ask me rather than the herald. The chief cause of trouble in a country
is the herald, for he is always wrong, and even when he is right in
fact he is wrong in tact. Do not take any other woman’s counsel in
those matters; do not even seek it--the one wish of all women is to
advance their husbands, and themselves by consequence, and they will
ruin the world if they are let.
“Do not forget that, after the king, the first man in the land is
Fergus the son of Roy. Be quick in respect to him, but be slow to sit
by him or to talk with him, for Conachúr loves him on the surface,
but he hates him in the bone. The first woman in the land is the wife
of Fergus, the king’s mother. Be obedient to Ness in everything. Be
quick in your courtesies to her. Give her many kisses. Be careful
not to love her, for her love is uncertain as a cat’s paw, and where
she strikes she draws blood. But these two are not often at Emania.
They live in their fortress, deep in love, or in thought, as Conachúr
fancies.
“You will see Findcheam, the wife of Amargin the Wonderful,
and Dervorgilla, wife of Lugad of the Red Stripes,
Fedelm-of-the-Fresh-Heart, the wife of Laerí the Victorious, and
Niab, the daughter of Celtchar mac Uthecar, and Brig Brethach, his
wife. Hussies all! spit-fires and scratch-cats! There is Lendubair,
Conall Cearnach’s wife, and Findige, wife of Eogan mac Durthacht, and
Fedelm-of-the-Nine-Shapes, the king’s daughter. They, and an hundred
others. You will meet them all.
“They have all been whispering of you this year back: and they have
told more lies of you than will be told again until you die. You will
like them at first, for many of them are nearly of your age, and they
will fuss and gallop and chatter about you like daws. Give them all the
listening you like, give them all the kisses they will take--Oh, you
will be kissed from morning to night, my pet--but do not give one of
them a moment’s confidence.
“The king will talk to you urgently, whispering in your ear like a
madman. There is nothing he will not tell you in the night, however
deep it is, or hidden; for a man in love will give all that he has
to the beloved; he would give his soul if he knew how to do it; and
Conachúr will think that by telling all his secrets to you he will
somehow tell all your secrets to himself. Men are so. But that which
he tells must be uttered to no other ear, for what is whispered in the
palace will be shouted down the Boyne. You can tell me all, for I am
different; I am your nurse, your mother, and your one friend, but to no
other person must you shape even one syllable.
“When the king has confided to you all that he can think of he will
beg you to confide in him: he will pray you to tell him all that you
have even done or thought--when he tells you of the wild glees and
savageries of love tell him in return of how you feed your pet fawn;
for a man, and the gods know why, delights to think that his beloved
has a fawn in the valley, and he will listen for ever to the tale of
how it is fed and of its grateful eyes.
“You will meet many men in the palace, and each gentleman that you
speak to will be looked at closely by the king. Until this day he has
been aware of women as one is aware of the sun, but now he will grow
aware of men as one is aware of a wound. You will not see him look,
but look he will; and when you seem most free from observation he will
be studying you. Whether it be a captain or a butler that your eyes
rest on, he will know, without looking, at whom you are looking, and
thereafter he will examine that person for himself, and he will examine
you in curious ways about that person. Any question he ever asks about
a man will be a trap for you. Answer him carelessly about them all, and
make the same answer about them all.
“It is safe to say of all men that they are nice, but do not say that
one is nicer than another. There is no end to the windings of his mind,
and if you say that one man is ugly and another not he will dream about
the distinction and will dream you terribly into his dream. A dreaming
man is magical, for he will make the dream come true against his own
wish and interest, and Conachúr is at the age to have those dreams.@
“Be gentle and uncertain with him. Be wild and coy. Do not, although
he prays you, be familiar with him. Tire quickly of dalliance, for in
middle life a man likes not to think that he has wearied first. Dance
often but do not gambol. Be girlish but not childish. Do not pluck his
beard or tickle him. Sit sparingly on his knee. It is only old men who
like baby tricks, and he is not, by fifteen years, old enough for that.
“Discuss your dresses and ornaments with him: ask his advice about your
ribbons; he will laugh at you and chide you, but he will love that to
be done, and he will love you for doing it. Should he be sportive among
women, pout then a little, make a small lament, but take no heed of it.
He has outlived all the chances of desire.
“He will love you only, and each day he will love you more. What fear
there is will be on his side; he will be afraid of men; and there your
heed must be endless, for you must not hurt the king even by a second’s
thoughtlessness. His equal is not in Eirè for majesty and wisdom. He
is a great king, a great man, a royal hero. O my lamb! all that is of
good luck and of noble fate has come to you, and you should thank the
king for ever on your knees, and thank your poor Lavarcham who planned
this happiness.”