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would wreak on the Ui-Neill, on his account, would be an eternal vengeance; and the Leper came forward to the tent of Ferghal, where the kings of Leth-Chiusm were before him. The Leper complained of the injuries done him in their presence; but the heart of none of them was moved towards him, except the heart of Cubretan,1 son of the king of Fera-Ros; and for this Cubretan had no reason to be sorry, for of all the kings who were in the tent, none escaped from the battle except Cubretan alone. Then Ferghal said to Donnbo, "Show amusement for us, O Donnbo, for thou art the best minstrel in Ireland at pipes, and trumpets, and harps, at the poems, and legends, and royal tales of Erin, for on to-morrow morning we shall give battle to the Leinster men."

"No," said Donnbo, "I am not able to amuse thee to-night, and I am not about to exhibit any one of these feats to-night; but wherever thou shalt be to-morrow, if I be alive, I shall show amusement to thee. But let the royal clown, Ua Maighleine,2 amuse thee this night."

The clown was afterwards brought to them, and he commenced narrating battles and valiant deeds. . . . On the following morning the battalions of both sides met. The valorous deeds of the heroes of Leinster and Leth-Chiusm are very much spoken of. It is said that Saint Brigit was seen over the Leinster men; Colum Cille was seen over the Ui-Neill. The battle was gained by Murchadh, son of the King of Leinster. Ferghal himself was killed, and Aedh Menu (a prince of Leinster) slew Donnbo. The clown was taken prisoner, and he was asked to give "a clown's shout," and he did so. Loud and melodious was that shout, so that the shout of Ua Maighleine has remained with the clowns of Erin from that day forth. . . . The clown's head was struck off. The reverberation of the clown's shout remained in the air for three days and three nights. From which comes the saying, "The shout of Ua Maighleine chasing the men in the bog."

It was at Condail3 of the Kings the Leinster men were that night drinking wine and mead merrily and in high spirits after gaining the battle; and each of them was describing his prowess, and they were jolly and right merry. Then Murchadh, son of the King of Leinster, said :

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1 Cubretan signifies dog or hero of Britain.

? He is not mentioned in any other known annals.

3 Now Old Connell, în county Kildare, about five miles east of the Hill of Allen.

"I would give a chariot of [the value of] four cumhals, and my steed and battle dress, to the hero who would go to the field of slaughter, and would bring us a token from it."

"I will go," said Baethgalach, a hero of Munster. He puts on his dress of battle and combat, and arrived at the spot where the body of King Ferghal was, and he heard a noise in the air over his head, and he said on hearing it:

"All praise be to thee, O king of the seven heavens! Ye are amusing your lord to-night, namely, King Ferghal; though ye have all fallen here, both poets, pipers, trumpeters, and harpers, let not hatred or ability prevent you to-night from playing for Ferghal."

The young warrior then heard the most delightful and entrancing piping and music in the bunch of rushes next him, a Fenian melody sweeter than any music. The young warrior went towards it.

"Do not come near me," said a head to him. "I ask who art thou?" said the young warrior. "I am the head of Donnbo," said the head; "and I made a compact last night that I would amuse the king to-night, and do not annoy me."

"Which is the body of Ferghal here?" said the young warrior.

"Thou mayest observe it yonder," said the head.

"Shall I take thee away," said the young warrior; "thou art the dearest to me."

"Bring me," said the head; "but may the grace of God be on thy head if thou bring me to my body again."


"I will, indeed," said the young warrior. And the young warrior returned with the head to Condail the same night, and he found the Leinster men drinking there on his arrival. "Hast thou brought a token with thee?" said Murchadh.

"I have," replied the young warrior, "the head of Donnbo."

"Place it on yonder post," said Murchadh, and the whole host knew it to be the head of Donnbo, and they all said:


"Pity that this fate awaited thee, O Donnbo! fair was thy countenance; amuse us to-night as thou didst thy lord last night."

His face was turned, and he raised a most piteous strain in their presence, so that they were all wailing and lamenting! The same warrior conveyed the head to its body, as he had promised, and he fixed it on the neck (to

If thou art minded to bring me at all, find my body and bring my head and body together.

which it instantly adhered), and Donnbo | of the pledged word of the abbot of Hy, and started into life. In a word Donnbo reached the shout of the clown which remained reverthe house of his mother. The three won-berating three days and three nights in the ders of this battle were: The coming of air, and nine thousand prevailing over twentyDonnbo home to his house alive in consequence one thousand.


BORN 1600 - DIED 1678.

[Richard Flecknoe was born probably about the poet lost his place, and probably never the end of the sixteenth or beginning of the was poet-laureate at all; the person apseventeenth century. His first work, Hiero-pointed was Shadwell, who is the MacFleckthalamium; or, the Heavenly Nuptials, appeared noe, or son of Flecknoe, in Dryden's satire. in 1626; and Marvel, who met him in Rome Indeed we believe the only reason that can be about 1643, speaks of him as then an old man. given for the great poet's conduct is that given He also calls him "priest, poet, and musician." by Christie in his Globe edition of Dryden's His place of birth was Ireland, and in early life poetical works:-Flecknoe was dead. "The he was a Jesuit, if not a priest. This last char- plan of the poem required a dead author, and acter he ceased to assume after the Restoration. Flecknoe suited the purpose." It may be, From Rome, Flecknoe, who was a consider- however, that Dryden believed Flecknoe to able traveller, moved to Lisbon, where he be the author of the pamphlet by R. F., pubremained some time, and was kindly treated lished in 1668 in defence of Sir Robert Howard by King John of Portugal. From Lisbon, in against Dryden in the controversy about rhyme 1646, he made a voyage to Brazil, by permis- and blank-verse, and that for fourteen years sion of the king, who presented him with two he "nursed his wrath to keep it warm."] hundred crowns as a contribution towards his

expenses. In 1650 he returned again to Lisbon, and began to write his Travels of Ten Years in Europe, Asia, Afrique, and America. In 1654 he printed his Love's Dominion, a Dramatick Piece, and dedicated it to Lady Elizabeth Claypole. This was afterwards reprinted in 1664 under the title of Love's Kingdom. In 1667 appeared his comedy Demoiselles à la Mode, and in 1670 his Moral Epigrams, dedicated to the queen, daughter of the King of Portugal. Of the other works of Flecknoe those most deserving mention are, Ermina, or the Chaste Lady, and his Diarium, or Journal, in burlesque verse. He died in 1678.

There can be little doubt that Flecknoe is an example of one of the very few instances in literary history where satire, while preserving an author's name, has utterly slain his reputation-such as it may have been. As a reason for Dryden's animosity against him some of his biographers state that it was owing to Flecknoe's being appointed poetlaureate on the deposition of the former. This is a mistake. Flecknoe was dead before

1 Three wonders are usually introduced into Irish romantic stories.


Still-born Silence, thou that art
Floodgate of the deeper heart,
Offspring of a heavenly kinde,
Frost o' th' mouth, and thaw o' th' mind;
Secrecy's confidant, and he
Who makes religion mystery.


The fountains drink caves subterren,

The rivulets drink the fountains dry;
Brooks drink those rivulets again,

And then some river gliding by;
Until some gulphing sea drink them,
And ocean drinks up that again.

Of ocean then does drink the sky;

When having brew'd it into rain,
The earth with drink it does supply,

And plants do drink up that again.
When turned to liquor in the vine,
'Tis our turn next to drink the wine.

2 This and the next piece are from Miscellanea, or Poems of All Sorts.

By this who does not plainly see,

How into our throats at once is hurl'dWhilst merrily we drinking be

The quintessence of all the world? Whilst all drink then in land, air, sea, Let us too drink as well as they.


It is not travel makes the man, 'tis true,
Unless a man could travel, sir, like you,
By putting off the worst and putting on
The best of every country where they come;
Their language, manners, fashions, and their use,
Purg'd from the dross, and stript from the abuse,
Until at last in manners they become
New men and creatures at their coming home;
Whilst your pied traveller, who nothing knows
Of other countries' fashions but their clothes,
And speaks their language but as parrots do,
Only at best a broken word or two,
Goes and returns the same he went again,
By carrying England still along with him;
Or else returns far worse by bringing home
The worst of every land where he does come.


Dryden, the Muse's darling and delight,
Than whom none ever flew so high a flight;
Nor ever any's muse so high did soar
Above th' poets' empyrium before.
Some go but to Parnassus' foot, and there
Creep on the ground, as if they reptiles were:
Others but water poets, who have gone
No further than the fount of Helicon;
And they're but airy ones, whose muse soars up
No higher than to Mount Parnassus' top.
Whilst thou with thine dost seem t' have mounted

Than he who fetcht from heaven celestial fire!

ON THE DEATH OF OUR LORD. Oh blessed Lord! and wouldst thou die For such a wretched worm as I! This of thy love's so great a proof, Angels can ne'er admire enough; And all the love by far transcends Of parents and of dearest friends. To have such benefit bestow'd Would undo any but a God; And love itself make bankrupt too, By leaving nothing more to do.

This and the two pieces following are from A Collection of the Choicest Epigrams and Characters, 1673.

Had any king done this for me,
What wondering at it there would be!
And wondering at it now there's none
When by a God himself 'tis done.
Strange blindness! men should more esteem
A benefit bestow'd on him

By earthly kings, than what is given Unto him by the King of Heaven!


Palemon. Now here, Love, at thy sacred shrine I offer up these vows of mine.— Father of dear and tender thoughts, Thou who the hardest bosom softs; Soften Bellinda's heart, and make Her but thy dear impression take; So shall I burn Arabian gums, And offer up whole hecatombs Upon thy altar, whilst thy fires Shall shine as bright as my desires.

First Priest. Whilst he the deity does invoke The flame ascends in troubled smoke.

Philander. What sort of offering mine shall be, Divinest Love, 's best known to thee; Nor spices nor Arabian gums, Nor yet of beasts whole hecatombs: These are too low and earthly, mine Are far more heavenly and divine; An adamantine faith, and such As jealousy can never touch; A constant heart and loyal breast, These are the offerings thou lovest best.

Second Priest. Love's fires ne'er brighter yet appeared, Whoe'er thou art thy vows are heard.


He is the antipodes of the country where he lives, and with the Italian begins his day with the first hour of night; he is worse than those that call light darkness and darkness light, for he makes it so, and contradicts that old saying that the day was made for man to labour in and the night to rest. He thinks that sentence of Solomon nothing concerning him, that all is vanity underneath the sun, for all his is underneath the moon; for the sun's rising only serves him to go to bed by; and as formerly they measured time by water, he measures it only by fire and candle light; he alters his pater noster, and as others pray for their daily he prays for his nightly bread.

2 This and the following extract are from Choicest Epigrams and Characters.

ment; for death is said to come like a thief in the night, and then he sits up and watches; and judgment by day, and then he is abed and sleeps. And if they charge him for ill expense of time, he only changes it-change is no robbery; so as, in fine, if he have no other sins than that, there is none would have less to answer for than he.

Meantime he fears neither death nor judg- | never wholly true, he so alters it with his reporting it. He goes a-fishing for secrets, and tells you those of others only to hook yours out of you, baiting men as they do fishes, one with another. He is like your villanous flies, which always leave sound places to light on sore, and are such venomous ones as even to make sound places sore with their fly-blowing them. In fine, they would set dissension between man and wife the first day of their marriage, and father and son the last day of their lives. Nor will innocence be ever safe, or conversation innocent, till such as they be banished human society; and if I would afford them being anywhere, it should be with Ariosto's Discord, among mine enemies. Meantime my prayer is, God bless my friends from them!


He is the devil's day labourer, and sows his tares for him, or seeds of dissension, by telling you this and that such an one said of you, when you may be sure it is wholly false, or


BORN 1621 DIED 1679.

[Roger Boyle, Earl of Orrery, was the fifth | Cromwell himself landed in Wexford with an army of 8000 foot and 4000 horse, together with money and materials. With the sad events that followed we are not here concerned, except to say that Lord Broghill passed through them with courage and address, so much so indeed that Cromwell made him one of his privy-council, and confided in him more than in almost any other man. Cromwell also in 1656 sent him into Scotland to attempt to remedy the rough rule of Monk, and on his return to London the Protector was so influenced by him that he was enabled to save more than one noble house from impending ruin.

son of Richard, "the great Earl of Cork." He was born in April, 1621, and was created Baron Broghill when only seven years of age. At the age of fifteen he became a student of Trinity College, Dublin, from which in a few years he was taken by his father and sent with his eldest brother to make the tour of France and Italy. On his return he made his appearance at the court in England, where he was received with respect and delight, and during his stay there he married Margaret Howard, sister to the Earl of Suffolk. Accompanied by his wife he proceeded to Ireland, just at the beginning of the troubles of 1641. Here for a time he served gallantly as a soldier on the side of the Parliamentarians, but on the death of the king he threw up his post in disgust, and returning to England lived privately at Marston, in Somersetshire, till 1649. About this time he formed an intention of applying to Charles II. for a commission to raise forces in Ireland; but this intention reached the ears of Cromwell, who visited him, and dealt with him so generously that he accepted a post in the army of the Protector. In a few days he was on his way to Ireland with a few soldiers; on his arrival there he increased his small army materially, and so managed affairs as to present a formidable appearance until, on the 15th August, 1649,

After the death of Cromwell, Broghill did his best to be of service to the new lord-protector, Richard; but finding that weak but amiable descendant of the man of iron determined to be undone he retired to his command in Munster. There he soon began to busy himself to bring about the Restoration, and gained over to the royal side Wilson, governor of Limerick, and Sir Charles Coote, who held a command in the north. After the king's accession Broghill came to England, where he was received rather coldly by Charles. After a time, however, he managed to show that he had been prime mover in the successful affairs in Ireland, and on this he was received into favour, and soon after, on the 5th September,

1660, he was made Earl of Orrery, sworn into Man ne'er could feign, what his strange birth prov'd the privy-council, appointed one of the lordsjustices as well as president of Munster. In 1662, when the Duke of Ormond was made lord-lieutenant, Broghill retired to his presidency, where, by virtue of his office, he heard and decided cases in a court called the Residency Court. In this capacity he acquired such a reputation that after the fall of Clarendon he was offered the seals, but declined the post in consequence of the gout which afflicted


After this Orrery mixed little more in politics, but left sword and council-board for the desk and pen. During the years that intervened until his death he produced several poems and plays. In his poems, which are somewhat artificial, he displays moral elevation of mind. In his plays, which were very successful, he often uses his wit, like too many of the writers of the Restoration, in the adornment of unsavoury subjects. They are not, however, wholly devoid of scenes of a higher kind, and are marked by vigour and force.

Of his works the chief are: A Poem on His Majesty's Happy Restoration; A Poem on the Death of Cowley; The History of Henry V., a tragedy, 1668; Mustapha, a tragedy, 1667-68; The Black Prince, a tragedy, 1672; Triphon, a tragedy, 1672; Parthenissa, a romance, 1665; A Dream, full of bold advice to the king; A Treatise on the Art of War; Poems on the Fasts and Festivals of the Church. After his death the following additional works were published:—Mr. Anthony, a comedy, 1692; Guzuron, a comedy, 1693; Herod the Great, a tragedy, 1694; Altemira, a tragedy, placed on the stage in 1702; State Letters, 1742.

Roger Boyle died 16th October, 1679, leaving behind him a reputation as a wit, a soldier, a statesman, and a man of letters-the last title being the one of which he was most proud.]


Hail, glorious day which miracles adorn,
Since 'twas on thee eternity was born!
Hail, glorious day, on which mankind did view
The Saviour of the old world and the new!
Hail, glorious day, which deifies man's race,
Birth-day of Jesus, and through him, of grace!
In thy blest light the world at once did see
Proofs of his Godhead and humanity.
To prove him man, he did from woman come,
To prove him God, 'twas from a virgin's womb.


For his blest mother was a virgin too.
While as a child He in the manger cryes,

Angels proclaim his Godhead from the skyes;
He to so vile a cradle did submit,
That we, through faith in him, on thrones might sit.

Oh prodigie of mercy, which did make
The God of gods our human nature take!
And through our vaile of flesh, his glory shine,
That we thereby might share in the divine.

Hail, glorious virgin, whose tryumphant womb
Blesses all ages past and all to come!
Thou more than heal'st the sin by Adam's wife,
She brought in death, but thou brought'st endless


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Yet I with joy would this oppression bear
Were I the only guiltless you pursue.

Herod. That name of all belongs the least to
To thee whose lust has to my queen confest
The secret I intrusted to thy breast:

Which she of all the world should not have known;
Traytor, in vain thou wilt thy guilt disown,
My sister who reveal'd will prove thy sin.
Heavens! how I fear'd that it had been the queen!
[Sohemus lifts up his hands and eyes.
Herod. His lifting up to heaven his hands and


Does evidence his crime, by his surprise.
This storm which thou hast rais'd dost thou not

Look on me-look-have I not stared thee dead?

1 From the tragedy of Herod the Great.

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