“I lost my country and my kindred; my men that were used to serve me; I lost quietness and affection; I lost the men of Ireland and the Fianna entirely.

“I lost delight and music; I lost my own right doing and my honour; I lost the Fianna of Ireland, my great kinsmen, for the sake of the love you gave me.

“O Grania, white as snow, it would have been a better choice for you to have given hatred to me, or gentleness to the Head of the Fianna.”

And Grania said:  “O Diarmuid of the face like snow, or like the down of the mountains, the sound of your voice was dearer to me than all the riches of the leader of the Fianna.

“Your blue eye is dearer to me than his strength, and his gold and his great hall; the love-spot on your forehead is better to me than honey in streams; the time I first looked on it, it was more to me than the whole host of the King of Ireland.

“My heart fell down there and then before your high beauty; when you came beside me, it was like the whole of life in one day.

“O Diarmuid of the beautiful hands, take me now the same as before; it was with me the fault was entirely; give me your promise not to leave me.”

But Diarmuid said:  “How can I take you again, you are a woman too fond of words; one day you give up the Head of the Fianna, and the next day myself, and no lie in it.

“It is you parted me from Finn, the way I fell under sorrow and grief; and then you left me yourself, the time I was full of affection.”

And Grania said:  “Do not leave me now this way, and my love for you ever growing like the fresh branches of the tree with the kind long heat of the day.”

But Diarmuid would not give in to her, and he said:  “You are a woman full of words, and it is you have put me under sorrow.  I took you with myself, and you struck at me for the sake of the man of the Fomor.”

They came then to a place where there was a cave, and water running by it, and they stopped to rest; and Grania said:  “Have you a mind to eat bread and meat now, Diarmuid?”

“I would eat it indeed if I had it,” said Diarmuid.

“Give me a knife, so,” she said, “till I cut it.”  “Look for the knife in the sheath where you put it yourself,” said Diarmuid.

She saw then that the knife was in his thigh where she had struck it, for he would not draw it out himself.  So she drew it out then; and that was the greatest shame that ever came upon her.

They stopped then in the cave.  And the next day when they went on again, Diarmuid did not leave unbroken bread like he had left every other day as a sign to Finn that he had kept his faith with him, but it was broken bread he left after him.

CHAPTER VI.  THE WANDERERS

And they went on wandering after that, all through Ireland, hiding from Finn in every place, sleeping under the cromlechs, or with no shelter at all, and there was no place they would dare to stop long in.  And wherever they went Finn would follow them, for he knew by his divination where they went.  But one time he made out they were on a mountain, for he saw them with heather under them; and it was beside the sea they were, asleep on heather that Diarmuid had brought down from the hills for their bed; and so he went searching the hills and did not find them.