But when the Wise Man saw that his magic availed nought, he laid upon the land yet another enchantment, for the plain upon which Deirdre stood with the sons of Usna, he caused to be covered with tempestuous water.
And the magic sea rose higher and yet more high, so that Nathos raised Deirdre on his shoulder, and there she rested, her white arms around the hero's neck.
But now the waters grew calm, and it was seen that drowning was not their doom.
Then, as the waters withdrew from the plain, soldiers came to bind Nathos, Ailne, and Ardan, and to take them before the King. And Concobar commanded that they should be slain before his eyes.
'If such be our doom, then slay me first,' said Ardan, 'for I am the youngest of Usna's sons.'
'Nay,' said Ailne, 'but let the first blow fall upon me.'
Then Nathos spake: 'It were not meet that we three, the sons of one mother, should be divided in death. Together have we sowed the seeds in the springtime, side by side have we plucked the fruits of summer; autumn is still afar, yet must we be cut down as ripe corn. But let us fall each by each, that there may not be left the one to mourn the other. With this sword that was given me by a hero of the land may our heads at one stroke be severed from our bodies.'
With that they laid their heads upon the block. A flash of the steel, and Alba was bereft of the fairest and noblest of her sons. And the air was rent with cries of lamentation.
Then did a great champion ride across the plain, and to him did Deirdre tell of the fate of the sons of Usna. And under his care the star-eyed maiden came where the heroes lay dead.
And Deirdre kneeled, and she bent low over the head of Nathos, and kissed his dead lips.
Then, at the bidding of the champion, three graves were digged, and in them, standing upright, were buried Nathos and Ailne and Ardan, and upon the shoulders of each was his head placed.
And as Deirdre gazed into the grave of Nathos, she moaned a lay which told of the brave deeds of the sons of Usna. It told, too, of her love for Nathos, and as she ended the mournful strain, her heartstrings broke, and she fell at the feet of her husband, and there did she die, and by his side was she buried.
In that same hour died the Wise Man; and as he died, he cried aloud, 'That which shall come, shall come.'
And so it was, for on the morrow Concobar's host was scattered as autumn leaves, and the House of the Red Branch perished, and ere long Concobar died in a madness of despair, and throughout the Green Isle was mourning and desolation.
But through the ages has the tale of the wondrous beauty of Deirdre been sung, and yet shall it be told again, for when shall the world tire of the sorrowfullest of 'The Three Sorrows of Story-telling,' the Fate of the Sons of Usna and of Deirdre the Star-eyed?
THE FOUR WHITE SWANS 
In the days of long ago there lived in the Green Isle of Erin a race of brave men and fair women the race of the Dedannans. North, south, east, and west did this noble people dwell, doing homage to many chiefs.
But one blue morning after a great battle the Dedannans met on a wide plain to choose a King. 'Let us,' they said, 'have one King over all. Let us no longer have many rulers.'
Forth from among the Princes rose five well fitted to wield a sceptre and to wear a crown, yet most royal stood Bove Derg and Lir. And forth did the five chiefs wander, that the Dedannan folk might freely say to whom they would most gladly do homage as King.
Not far did they roam, for soon there arose a great cry, 'Bove Derg is King. Bove Derg is King.' And all were glad, save Lir.
But Lir was angry, and he left the plain where the Dedannan people were, taking leave of none, and doing Bove Derg no reverence. For jealousy filled the heart of Lir.
Then were the Dedannans wroth, and a hundred swords were unsheathed and flashed in the sunlight on the plain. 'We go to slay Lir who doeth not homage to our King and regardeth not the choice of the people.'
But wise and generous was Bove Derg, and he bade the warriors do no hurt to the offended Prince.
For long years did Lir live in discontent, yielding obedience to none. But at length a great sorrow fell upon him, for his wife, who was dear unto him, died, and she had been ill but three days. Loudly did he lament her death, and heavy was his heart with sorrow.
When tidings of Lir's grief reached Bove Derg, he was surrounded by his mightiest chiefs. 'Go forth,' he said, 'in fifty chariots go forth. Tell Lir I am his friend as ever, and ask that he come with you hither. Three fair foster-children are mine, and one may he yet have to wife, will he but bow to the will of the people, who have chosen me their King.'
When these words were told to Lir, his heart was glad. Speedily he called around him his train, and in fifty chariots set forth. Nor did they slacken speed until they reached the palace of Bove Derg by the Great Lake. And there at the still close of day, as the setting rays of the sun fell athwart the silver waters, did Lir do homage to Bove Derg. And Bove Derg kissed Lir and vowed to be his friend for ever.
And when it was known throughout the Dedannan host that peace reigned between these mighty chiefs, brave men and fair women and little children rejoiced, and nowhere were there happier hearts than in the Green Isle of Erin.
Time passed, and Lir still dwelt with Bove Derg in his palace by the Great Lake. One morning the King said, 'Full well thou knowest my three fair foster-daughters, nor have I forgotten my promise that one thou shouldst have to wife. Choose her whom thou wilt.'
Then Lir answered, 'All are indeed fair, and choice is hard. But give unto me the eldest, if it be that she be willing to wed.'
And Eve, the eldest of the fair maidens, was glad, and that day was she married to Lir, and after two weeks she left the palace by the Great Lake and drove with her husband to her new home.