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  <node>
    <title>Ferg041</title>
    <Collections>Deirdre</Collections>
    <Contributor>Linen Hall Library</Contributor>
    <Coverage>1880</Coverage>
    <Creator>Linen Hall Library</Creator>
    <Date>Thursday, February 4, 2016</Date>
    <Format>TIFF</Format>
    <Identifier>Ferg041</Identifier>
    <ItemDescription>Manuscript</ItemDescription>
    <Keywords>Spell, Freedom, Maev</Keywords>
    <Language>English</Language>
    <Path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/ferg041</Path>
    <Publisher>Linen Hall Library</Publisher>
    <Relation>Linen Hall Library</Relation>
    <Rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</Rights>
    <Scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Ferg041_0.jpg</Scannedimage>
    <Source>LHL Archive</Source>
    <Transcript>﻿And welcome may the message be I bring. 

NAISI.
From whom and what the message? Sends he peace? 

FERGUS.
Conor sends peace and pardon. I myself
Your warrantor and convoy. 

NAISI.
Favouring Gods !
What spell has wrought him to forgive my wrong? 

DEIRDRE.
We did him not a wrong. The wrong was his.
He kept me as a dainty for his use.
Locked in a prison-garden shamefully ;
Beast, who might well have been my grandfather I
Till Naisi gave me freedom, and I gave
Naisi the love was only mine to give. 

FERGUS.
What, daughter : thou shalt come as well as he,
And have him for thyself, be it wrong or right.
&#039;Tis fixed and warranted ; and here&#039;s the hand
Will make it good. Naisi, the case stood thus :
My politic, learned step-son found his Maev
A partner somewhat over-arrogant,
And broke the marriage. Maev, imperial jade,
Has wed with Ailill, Tinne&#039;s son, and reigns
With him o&#039;er the Connacians : in his halls
Of battlemented Croghan nursing hate
&#039;Gainst now-detested Conor ; and from wilds
Of Irrus drawing Gamanradian braves
And fierce Damnonian sworders, sends them forth
&#039;Gainst the Ultonian borders, host on host.
Pressing the Red Branch with perpetual war.
We&#039;ve fought them, and we&#039;ve chased them oft, but still
They issue from their heathy western hives
As thick as summer midges, and our swords
Are dulled with slaughter, and our arms are tired.
We&#039;ve missed thee, Naisi, and thy brothers here ;
There&#039;s the plain truth. We missed and needed you.
And we, — Cuchullin, Conall, and myself, —
Avowed it in full council. And, said I,
&quot; Sir, give me liberty to carry them
The royal message with assurance firm. 
</Transcript>
    <Type>Text</Type>
  </node>
</>
