CANTO II.

XIV.

Thenceforth, King Fergus, strong in power new born, Recked not a restful hour, but, passion-fired, And strong in strength un’customed, night and morn Probed to the farthest deeps his soul desired. At such swift speed too soon his soul acquired The sum of knowledge granted. “All below,” So spake the King, “to which I have aspired Is mine,--that earth or ocean can bestow, Save one, whose secret fain my mind would grasp and know.”

XV.

So chafe Restriction’s fetters. So within Dwelleth for ever ancient Adam’s will. Sweet though the tasted fruit, the fruit unseen, Or seen but yet forbid, is sweeter still. Lord of the land, of river, vale, and hill, King Fergus stood, and “Wherefore,” thus said he, “This circumscription? What of greater ill Dwelleth within the breast of mine own sea Than those whose farthest caves have felt the foot of me?

XVI.

“I _will_ descend to Rory: haply there May dwell some secret whose resistless charms, Bent to my kindred’s service, danger, care Shall put apart, and shield from hurt or harm In council grave or battle’s loud alarm. What ho, Muëna. Haste my charioteer. Who boasts that weak has grown my kingly arm To sweep its path of all restriction clear? Fergus is Fergus still--and Fergus knows no fear!”

XVII.

Muëna heard, and answered word by deed. Soon rolled the chariot round the palace hall, And Eastward toward the ocean; steed by steed Stretched to the task his limbs; their hoofs did fall Like rain on summer noons. The curlews’ call Gave token of the near-approaching end, And soon before their eyes the ocean wall Shouldered the shock of waters that extend To meet the sky. The King did to the marge descend.

XVIII.

Know you the Loch of Rory? Sages tell How, when the sons of Adam felt the force Of watery judgments, came a vagrant swell And burst round shores of Eireann. Man and horse, King, chief, and clansman, in the widening course Of high, resistless billows, sank from sight ’Mong cries from throats in sudden anguish hoarse That called, and called, and ceased when fell the night,-- And on a stranger shore soft broke the morning’s light.

XIX.

Across this shore Ultonia’s King now passed. The waves that rattled up the pebbled strand Rose in their ranks, then low before him cast Themselves, and stood aside on either hand. The King moved forward. Never magic wand More swift compelled submission. Thro’ the spray, As tho’ he trod upon the level land, He took, ’twixt watery walls, a deepening way, Till o’er his head the waves shut out the light of day.

XX.

Forward he fared. No swimmer’s opened eye E’er scanned so sweet a sight. In glimmering green Slow lightening upward to the watery sky That arched the watery world, in softer sheen Than mortals wot of, lay the fairy scene:-- Fantastic rocks, sea-flowers that rose and fell As brushed by silent shapes that moved between Him and the darkening distance, fairy cell, And beds of ocean bloom more sweet than Asphodel.

XXI.

There sat the King adown to scan the world Of more than wonder. Thither came to sue For explanation things that swam, and curled, Then circled round, and passed away from view. Here stood as ’twere a camp, and there a few Forms, not of ocean, human arms outspread. King Fergus wept to make the sad review Where those who faced the flood, now dumb and dead, Slept out the tale of time upon the ocean’s bed.

XXII.

Short space he sat when, from athwart the deep, There came a sound of horror! Far and near A wild commotion rose, as things that creep, Or climb, or swim, smitten with sudden fear, Darkened the depths that erst had been so clear. King Fergus started upward to his feet, And saw, but dimly, toward him quickly steer A dreadful shape that came like lightning fleet, And chilled the monarch’s blood such fearful foe to meet.

XXIII.

It was the Muirdris!! Nought that men have known Could match its awful visage: high upheld On ogrish limbs, one moment ape-like grown, It flew along, till, lo! it sank, and swelled To size gigantic, while it yelped and yelled In sound that spake of fury, fiendish ire. In tremulous awe the King the beast beheld Bent in its course on devastation dire, While from its eyeballs streamed malignant lines of fire.

XXIV.

Round turned the King, and flew as ’twere from Death! Swift sped the beast within his foamy track. Wreathed round his form the King could feel its breath, Nor dared he glance one smallest moment back. Behind the twain, like tempest-driven rack, Spread clouds of foam, pointing the path of each. Above, white billows lashed the shore. His neck Muëna, wondering, strained,--till on the beach Swooned the swift-fleeing King beyond the monster’s reach.

XXV.

But tho’ Muëna wondered as he saw His King, ’mid foamy spray, make sudden flight, Far more he wondered as he scanned the flaw Upon the King’s wan face, that made the sight More dreadful than some horror-haunted night. Lo! wide apart, and stretched from ear to ear, In sudden aspect of tremendous fright, Gaped, like a cave, his jaws: the eyes, once clear, Stared as upon a sight of overmastering fear.

XXVI.

Muëna bore the King upon his breast Into the chariot. There he laid him, dazed, On ample couch, his fevered form to rest, Soft shaded from the sun, that burned and blazed High overhead,--then whipt the steeds, as crazed From some pursuing phantom. Might and main In lightning alternation high they raised Sure-stepping foot, and over hill and plain Toward far Emania’s walls their swiftest strength they strain.