No More Learning

'Gleeman,' said the lay brother, as they led him back to the
guest-house, 'why do you ever use the wit which God has given you to
make blasphemous and immoral tales and verses? For such is the way of
your craft. I have, indeed, many such tales and verses well nigh by
rote, and so I know that I speak true! And why do you praise with rhyme
those demons, Finvaragh, Red Aodh, Cleena, Aoibhell and Donn? I, too,
am a man of great wit and learning, but I ever glorify our gracious
abbot, and Benignus our Patron, and the princes of the province.
My soul is decent and orderly, but yours is like the wind among the
salley gardens. I said what I could for you, being also a man of many
thoughts, but who could help such a one as you? '

'Friend,' answered the gleeman, 'my soul is indeed like the wind, and
it blows me to and fro, and up and down, and puts many things into my
mind and out of my mind, and therefore am I called the Swift, Wild
Horse. ' And he spoke no more that night, for his teeth were chattering
with the cold.

The abbot and the friars came to him in the morning, and bade him get
ready to be crucified, and led him out of the guest-house. And while he
still stood upon the step a flock of great grass-barnacles passed high
above him with clanking cries. He lifted his arms to them and said, 'O
great grass-barnacles, tarry a little, and mayhap my soul will travel
with you to the waste places of the shore and to the ungovernable sea! '
At the gate a crowd of beggars gathered about them, being come there
to beg from any traveller or pilgrim who might have spent the night in
the guest-house. The abbot and the friars led the gleeman to a place
in the woods at some distance, where many straight young trees were
growing, and they made him cut one down and fashion it to the right
length, while the beggars stood round them in a ring, talking and
gesticulating. The abbot then bade him cut off another and shorter
piece of wood, and nail it upon the first.
So there was his cross for
him; and they put it upon his shoulder, for his crucifixion was to be
on the top of the hill where the others were. A half-mile on the way he
asked them to stop and see him juggle for them; for he knew, he said,
all the tricks of Aengus the Subtle-hearted. The old friars were for
pressing on, but the young friars would see him: so he did many wonders
for them, even to the drawing of live frogs out of his ears. But after
a while they turned on him, and said his tricks were dull and a shade
unholy, and set the cross on his shoulders again. Another half-mile
on the way, and he asked them to stop and hear him jest for them, for
he knew, he said, all the jests of Conan the Bald, upon whose back a
sheep's wool grew. And the young friars, when they had heard his merry
tales, again bade him take up his cross, for it ill became them to
listen to such follies. Another half-mile on the way, he asked them to
stop and hear him sing the story of White-breasted Deirdre, and how
she endured many sorrows, and how the sons of Usna died to serve her.
And the young friars were mad to hear him, but when he had ended they
grew angry, and beat him for waking forgotten longings in their hearts.
So they set the cross upon his back, and hurried him to the hill.

When he was come to the top, they took the cross from him, and began to
dig a hole to stand it in, while the beggars gathered round, and talked
among themselves. 'I ask a favour before I die,' says Cumhal.

'We will grant you no more delays,' says the abbot.

'I ask no more delays, for I have drawn the sword, and told the truth,
and lived my vision, and am content. '

'Would you, then, confess? '

'By sun and moon, not I; I ask but to be let eat the food I carry in my
wallet. I carry food in my wallet whenever I go upon a journey, but I
do not taste of it unless I am well-nigh starved.