Diarmid had eloped with the wife of Finn-mac-Coul (Fingal), who, like Ares, plotted to bring about his rival's death, and accordingly set the young hero to hunt the boar. As a thunder god Finn carried a hammer with which he smote his shield; the blows were heard in Lochlann (Scandinavia). Diarmid, like Tammuz, the "god of the tender voice and shining eyes", had much beauty. When he expired, Finn cried:
No maiden will raise her eye
Since the mould has gone over thy visage fair...
Blue without rashness in thine eye!
Passion and beauty behind thy curls!...
Oh, yesternight it was green the hillock,
Red is it this day with Diarmid's blood.[[112]]
Tammuz died with the dying vegetation, and Diarmid expired when the hills apparently were assuming their purple tints.[[113]] The month of Tammuz wailings was from 20th June till 20th July, when the heat and dryness brought forth the demons of pestilence. The mourners chanted:
He has gone, he has gone to the bosom of the earth,
And the dead are numerous in the land....
Men are filled with sorrow: they stagger by day in gloom ...
In the month of thy year which brings not peace hast thou gone.
Thou hast gone on a journey that makes an end of thy people.
The following extract contains a reference to the slaying of the god:
The holy one of Ishtar, in the middle of the year the fields languish...
The shepherd, the wise one, the man of sorrows, why have they
slain?...
In his temple, in his inhabited domain,
The child, lord of knowledge, abides no more...
In the meadows, verily, verily, the soul of life perishes.
There is wailing for Tammuz "at the sacred cedar, where the mother bore thee", a reference which connects the god, like Adonis and Osiris, with tree worship:
The wailing is for the herbs: the first lament is, "they are not produced".
The wailing is for the grain, ears are not produced.
The wailing is for the habitations, for the flocks which bring forth no more.
The wailing is for the perishing wedded ones; for the perishing
children; the dark-headed people create no more.
The wailing is also for the shrunken river, the parched meadows, the fishpools, the cane brakes, the forests, the plains, the gardens, and the palace, which all suffer because the god of fertility has departed. The mourner cries:
How long shall the springing of verdure be restrained?
How long shall the putting forth of leaves be held back?