wrought evil upon the children. So his horses were yoked and he set
out upon his road south-westward, until he reached the shores of Loch
Derryvaragh. But as he passed by that water, Fionnuala saw the train
of horsemen and chariots, and she cried to her brothers to come near
to the shore, "for," said she, "these can only be the company of our
father who have come to follow and seek for us."

Lir, by the margin of the lake, saw the four swans and heard them
talking with human voices, and he halted and spoke to them. Then said
Fionnuala: "Know, O Lir, that we are thy four children, and that she
who has wrought this ruin upon us is thy wife and our mother's sister,
through the bitterness of her jealousy." Lir was glad to know that
they were at least living, and he said, "Is it possible to put your
own forms upon you again?" "It is not possible," said Fionnuala, "for
all the men on earth could not release us until the woman of the South
be mated with the man of the North." Then Lir and his people cried
aloud in grief and lamentation, and Lir entreated the swans to come on
land and abide with him since they had their human reason and speech.
But Fionnuala said, "That may not be, for we may not company with men
any longer, but abide on the waters of Erinn nine hundred years. But
we have still our Gaelic speech, and moreover we have the gift of
uttering sad music, so that no man who hears it thinks aught worth in
the world save to listen to that music for ever. Do you abide by the
shore for this night and we shall sing to you."

So Lir and his people listened all night to the singing of the swans,
nor could they move nor speak till morning, for all the high sorrows
of the world were in that music, and it plunged them in dreams that
could not be uttered.