Irish Tales / Ирландские сказки. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Джозеф Джейкобс

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      After a time, a daughter was born to Malcolm; he did not allow a living being to come to his house, only himself and the nurse. He asked this woman, ‘Will you yourself bring up the child to keep her in hiding far away where eye will not see a sight of her nor ear hear a word about her?’

      The woman said she would, so Malcolm got three men, and he took them away to a large mountain, distant and far from reach without the knowledge or notice of anyone. He caused there a hillock, round and green, to be dug out of the middle, and the hole thus made to be covered carefully over so that a little company could dwell there together. This was done.

      Deirdre and her foster-mother dwelt in the bothy mid the hills without the knowledge or the suspicion of any living person about them and without anything occurring, until Deirdre was sixteen years of age. Deirdre grew like the white sapling, straight and trim as the rash on the moss. She was the creature of fairest form, of loveliest aspect, and of gentlest nature that existed between earth and heaven in all Ireland – whatever colour of hue she had before, there was nobody that looked into her face but she would blush fiery red over it.

      The woman that had charge of her, gave Deirdre every information and skill of which she herself had knowledge and skill. There was not a blade of grass growing from root, nor a bird singing in the wood, nor a star shining from heaven but Deirdre had a name for it. But one thing, she did not wish her to have either part or parley with any single living man of the rest of the world. But on a gloomy winter night, with black, scowling clouds, a hunter of game was wearily travelling the hills, and what happened but that he missed the trail of the hunt, and lost his course and companions. A drowsiness came upon the man as he wearily wandered over the hills, and he lay down by the side of the beautiful green knoll in which Deirdre lived, and he slept. The man was faint from hunger and wandering, and benumbed with cold, and a deep sleep fell upon him. When he lay down beside the green hill where Deirdre was, a troubled dream came to the man, and he thought that he enjoyed the warmth of a fairy broch, the fairies being inside playing music. The hunter shouted out in his dream, if there was anyone in the broch, to let him in for the Holy One’s sake[10]. Deirdre heard the voice and said to her foster mother, ‘O foster-mother, what cry is that?’

      ‘It is nothing at all, Deirdre – merely the birds of the air astray and seeking each other. But let them go past to the bosky glade. There is no shelter or house for them here.’

      ‘Oh, foster-mother, the bird asked to get inside for the sake of the God of the Elements, and you yourself tell me that anything that is asked in His name we ought to do. If you will not allow the bird that is being benumbed with cold, and done to death with hunger, to be let in, I do not think much of your language or your faith. But since I give credence to your language and to your faith, which you taught me, I will myself let in the bird.’ And Deirdre arose and drew the bolt from the leaf of the door, and she let in the hunter. She placed a seat in the place for sitting, food in the place for eating, and drink in the place for drinking for the man who came to the house.

      ‘Oh, for this life and raiment, you man that came in, keep restraint on your tongue[11]!’ said the old woman. ‘It is not a great thing for you to keep your mouth shut and your tongue quiet when you get a home and shelter of a hearth on a gloomy winter’s night.’

      ‘Well;’ said the hunter, ‘I may do that – keep my mouth shut and my tongue quiet, since I came to the house and received hospitality from you; but by the hand of thy father and grandfather, and by your own two hands, if some other of the people of the world saw this beauteous creature you have here hid away, they would not long leave her with you, I swear.’

      ‘What men are these you refer to?’ said Deirdre.

      ‘Well, I will tell you, young woman,’ said the hunter. ‘They art Naois, son of Uisnech, and Allen and Arden his two brothers.’

      ‘What like are these men when seen, if we were to see them?’ said Deirdre.

      ‘Why, the aspect and form of the men when seen are these,’ said the hunter. ‘They have the colour of the raven on their hair, their skin like swan on the wave in whiteness, and their cheeks as the blood of the brindled red calf, and their speed and their leap are those of the salmon of the torrent and the deer of the grey mountainside. And Naois is head and shoulders over the rest of the people of Erin.’

      ‘However they are,’ said the nurse, ‘be you off from here and take another road. And, king of Light and Sun! In good sooth and certainty, little are my thanks for yourself or for her that let you in!’

      The hunter went away, and went straight to the palace of King Connachar. He sent word into the king that he wished to speak to him if he pleased. The king answered the message and came out to speak to the man.

      ‘What is the reason of your journey?’ said the king to the hunter.

      ‘I have only to tell you, O king,’ said the hunter, ‘that I saw the fairest creature that ever was born in Erin, and I came to tell you of it.’

      ‘Who is this beauty and where is she to be seen, when she was not seen before till you saw her, if you did see her?’

      ‘Well, I did see her,’ said the hunter. ‘But, if I did, no man else can see her unless he get directions from me as to where she is dwelling.’

      ‘And will you direct me to where she dwells? And the reward of your directing me will be as good as the reward of your message,’ said the king.

      ‘Well, I will direct you, O king, although it is likely that this will not be what they want,’ said the hunter.

      Connachar, king of Ulster, sent for his nearest kinsmen, and he told them of his intent. Though early rose the song of the birds mid the rocky caves and the music of the birds in the grove, earlier than that did Connachar, king of Ulster, arise, with his little troop of dear friends, in the delightful twilight of the fresh and gentle May; the dew was heavy on each bush and flower and stem, as they went to bring Deirdre forth from the green knoll where she stayed. Many a youth was there who had a lithe leaping and lissom step when they started whose step was faint, failing, and faltering when they reached the bothy on account of the length of the way and roughness of the road.

      ‘Yonder, now, down in the bottom of the glen is the bothy where the woman dwells, but I will not go nearer than this to the old woman,’ said the hunter.

      Connachar with his band of kinsfolk went down to the green knoll where Deirdre dwelt and he knocked at the door of the bothy. The nurse replied, ‘No less than a king’s command and a king’s army could put me out of my bothy tonight. And I should be obliged to you, were you to tell who it is that wants me to open my bothy door.’

      ‘It is I, Connachar, king of Ulster.’ When the poor woman heard who was at the door, she rose with haste and let in the king and all that could get in of his retinue.

      When the king saw the woman that was before him that he had been in quest of, he thought he never saw in the course of the day nor in the dream of night a creature so fair as Deirdre and he gave his full heart’s weight of love to her. Deirdre was raised on the topmost of the heroes’ shoulders and she and her foster-mother were brought to the court of King Connachar of Ulster.

      With the love that Connachar had for her, he wanted to marry Deirdre right off there and then[12], will she nill she marry him. But she said to him, ‘I would be obliged to you if you will give me the respite of a year and a day.’

      He said, ‘I will grant you that, hard though it is, if you will give СКАЧАТЬ