"I seek not to release them from prison or to save them from death," said Glanlua; "but that they are left without food and drink--this it is that moves me to pity." And Dryantore said, "If only that has caused your tears, you may, if you so please, bring them food. Besides, I do not mean to put them to death immediately. I shall let them live yet awhile, that I may decoy by them the other Fena, who are now wandering hither and thither in quest of their chief. And it is my firm belief that in a little time I shall have them all in that dungeon." So Glanlua went to the prison, bringing food and drink, and Ailna went with her. They found the heroes sitting on the floor, sorrowing, their strength and activity all gone; for the music-spell still held them, and they suffered also from want of food. And when they saw the two ladies, they shed bitter tears. Glanlua, on her part, wept with pity when she looked on the wasted face of the chief. But not so Ailna; she was pleased at their distress, for her heart was hardened with vengeance, and she longed for the time when they should suffer death. Howbeit, Glanlua placed food and drink before them, and they ate and drank and were strengthened for the time. When the two ladies returned, Dryantore asked Glanlua if it were true what he had heard, that Dara was a favourite among the Fena; and why it was that they loved him so. Glanlua replied, "I only know that he is a very skilful musician; for I never heard melody sweeter than the strains he played yesterday, when I met himself and Finn in the fog." "I should like very much to hear this music," said Dryantore, "if it be so melodious as you say;" and as he spoke these words he went towards the dungeon. And when he had come to the door, he said to Dara, in a loud, harsh, surly voice-- "I have heard that you are a skilful musician, and can play very sweet strains. I wish you to play for me now that I may know if this be true." To which Dara replied, "If I had the Fena around me, I could delight them with the melody of my timpan; but as for you, guileful and cruel as you are, I do not believe that you can take any pleasure in music. Moreover, how can you expect that I should play sweet music for you, seeing that I am shut up here in this dismal dungeon, and that all manly strength and cheerfulness of mind have left me through your foul spells?" "I will take off the spells if only you play for me," said Dryantore; "and if your strains be as delightful as I have heard reported, I will bring you forth from your prison, and I will keep you for ever in my castle, and you shall play for me whensoever I wish for music." "I shall never consent to be released, neither will I play any music for you, so long as my chief lies in bondage and under enchantment," said Dara; "for I grieve not indeed for myself, but for him."