'
'Is he cursing in rhyme?'
'He is cursing in rhyme, and with two assonances in every line of his
curse.'
The abbot pulled his night-cap off and crumpled it in his hands, and
the circular brown patch of hair in the middle of his bald head
looked like an island in the midst of a pond, for in Connaught they
had not yet abandoned the ancient tonsure for the style then coming
into use. 'If we do not somewhat,' he said, 'he will teach his curses
to the children in the street, and the girls spinning at the doors,
and to the robbers upon Ben Bulben.'
'Shall I go, then,' said the other, 'and give him dry sods, a fresh
loaf, clean water in a jug, clean foot-water, and a new blanket, and
make him swear by the blessed Saint Benignus, and by the sun and
moon, that no bond be lacking, not to tell his rhymes to the children
in the street, and the girls spinning at the doors, and the robbers
upon Ben Bulben?'
'Neither our Blessed Patron nor the sun and moon would avail at all,'
said the abbot; 'for to-morrow or the next day the mood to curse
would come upon him, or a pride in those rhymes would move him, and
he would teach his lines to the children, and the girls, and the
robbers. Or else he would tell another of his craft how he fared in
the guest-house, and he in his turn would begin to curse, and my name
would wither.
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