Our bed now rock of dripping-caves
Our lullaby a thunderous roar of waves
Royal-couches once our sleepy heads did press
And every night the harpist’s art, caress.
…”Submit to the king, choose a wife from his fosterage and gain his friendship for ever.”
So went the message sent to Lir at Sidhe Finnaha.
Lir immediately set out with fifty chariots and reached Red-Lake by sunset.
The next day the three daughters of Aillil were brought
and sat on the same couch as their king and queen.
“They are all three beautiful,” said Lir, “I choose the eldest and noblest.”
Eve and Lir were wedded that self same day.
In course of time Eve bore Lir twins.
A daughter, Finnola and a son, Aedh.
But when she was brought to birth a second time
and produced twin sons called, Fiachra and Conn, she did not survive.
An anguish of pain for Lir and to his death from grief he would have succumbed
were it not for love of his four children.
The household of Red-Lake raised three shouts of lamentation when they heard.
When the mourning was over Red-Bove spoke, “we grieve for our foster daughter, Eve,
and for the good man to whom we gave her.
Our acquaintance shall not be ended by this,
for I shall give Lir her sister to wife, my second foster child, Eva.” …
to be continued…