SCENE: _Steps before the Palace of KING GUAIRE at Gort. A table in front of steps to right with food on it. SEANCHAN lying on steps to left. PUPILS before steps. KING on top of steps at centre._ _King._ I welcome you that have the mastery Of the two kinds of music; the one kind Being like a woman, the other like a man; Both you that understand stringed instruments, And how to mingle words and notes together So artfully, that all the art is but speech Delighted with its own music; and you that carry The long twisted horn and understand The heady notes that being without words Can hurry beyond time and fate and change; For the high angels that drive the horse of time, The golden one by day, by night the silver, Are not more welcome to one that loves the world For some fair woman’s sake. I have called you hither To save the life of your great master, Seanchan, For all day long it has flamed up or flickered To the fast-cooling hearth. _Senias._ When did he sicken? Is it a fever that is wasting him? _King._ He did not sicken, but three days ago He said he would not eat, and lay down there And has not eaten since. Till yesterday I thought that hunger and weakness had been enough, But finding them too trifling and too light To hold his mouth from biting at the grave I called you hither, and have called others yet. The girl he is to wed at harvest-time, That should be of all living the most dear, Is coming from the South, and had I known Of any other neighbours or good friends That might persuade him, I had brought them hither, Even though I’d to ransack the world for them. _Senias._ What was it put him to this work, High King?