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Title: Heroic Romances of Ireland, Translated into English Prose and Verse — Volume 1

Author: Arthur Herbert Leahy

Release date: May 1, 2004 [eBook #5678]
                Most recently updated: December 29, 2020

Language: English

Credits: This eBook was produced by John B. Hare and Carrie Lorenz


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEROIC ROMANCES OF IRELAND, TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE AND VERSE — VOLUME 1 ***




This eBook was produced by John B. Hare and Carrie Lorenz.



HEROIC ROMANCES OF IRELAND


TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE AND VERSE, WITH PREFACE, SPECIAL
INTRODUCTIONS AND NOTES

BY

A. H. LEAHY


IN TWO VOLUMES

VOL. I





PREFACE


At a time like the present, when in the opinion of many the great
literatures of Greece and Rome are ceasing to hold the influence that
they have so long exerted upon human thought, and when the study of the
greatest works of the ancient world is derided as "useless," it may be
too sanguine to hope that any attention can be paid to a literature
that is quite as useless as the Greek; which deals with a time, which,
if not actually as far removed from ours as are classical times, is yet
further removed in ideas; a literature which is known to few and has
yet to win its way to favour, while the far superior literature of
Greece finds it hard to defend the position that it long ago won.  It
may be that reasons like these have weighed with those scholars who
have opened up for us the long-hidden treasures of Celtic literature;
despairing of the effort to obtain for that literature its rightful
crown, and the homage due to it from those who can appreciate literary
work for itself, they have been contented to ask for the support of
that smaller body who from philological, antiquarian, or, strange as it
may appear, from political reasons, are prepared to take a modified
interest in what should be universally regarded as in its way one of
the most interesting literatures of the world.

The literary aspect of the ancient literature of Ireland has not indeed
been altogether neglected.  It has been used to furnish themes on which
modern poems can be written; ancient authority has been found in it for
what is essentially modern thought: modern English and Irish poets have
claimed the old Irish romances as inspirers, but the romances
themselves have been left to the scholars and the antiquarians.

This is not the position that Irish literature ought to fill.  It does
undoubtedly tell us much of the most ancient legends of modern Europe
which could not have been known without it; but this is not its sole,
or even its chief claim to be heard.  It is itself the connecting-link
between the Old World and the New, written, so far as can be
ascertained, at the time when the literary energies of the ancient
world were dead, when the literatures of modern Europe had not been
born,[FN#1] in a country that had no share in the ancient civilisation
of Rome, among a people which still retained many legends and possibly
a rudimentary literature drawn from ancient Celtic sources, and was
producing the men who were the earliest classical scholars of the
modern world.


[FN#1]  The only possible exceptions to this, assuming the latest
possible date for the Irish work, and the earliest date for others, are
the kindred Welsh literature and that of the Anglo-Saxon invaders of
Britain.


The exact extent of the direct influence of Irish literature upon the
development of other nations is hard to trace, chiefly because the
influence of Ireland upon the Continent was at its height at the time
when none of the languages of modern Europe except Welsh and
Anglo-Saxon had reached a stage at which they might be used for
literary purposes, and a Continental literature on which the Irish one
might have influence simply did not exist.  Its subsequent influence,
in the tenth and eleventh centuries, upon Welsh, and through Welsh upon
the early Breton literature (now lost) appears to be established; it is
usually supposed that its action upon the earliest French compositions
was only through the medium of these languages, but it is at least
possible that its influence in this case also was more direct.  In
Merovingian and early Carlovingian times, when French songs were
composed, which are now lost but must have preceded the extant chansons
de geste, the Irish schools were attracting scholars from the
neighbouring countries of Europe; Ireland was sending out a steady
stream of "learned men" to France, Germany, and Italy; and it is at
least possible that some who knew the Irish teachers realized the merit
of the literary works with which some of these teachers must have been
familiar.  The form of the twelfth-century French romance, "Aucassin
and Nicolete," is that of the chief Irish romances, and may well have
been suggested by them; whilst the variety of the rhythm and the
elaborate laws of the earliest French poetry, which, both in its
Northern and Southern form, dates from the first half of the twelfth
century, almost imply a pre-existing model; and such a model is more
easily traced in Irish than in any other vernacular literature that was
then available.  It is indeed nearly as hard to suppose that the
beautiful literature of Ireland had absolutely no influence upon
nations known to be in contact with it, as it would be to hold to the
belief that the ancient Cretan civilisation had no effect upon the liter
ary development that culminated in the poems of Homer.

Before speaking of what the Irish literature was, it may be well to say
what it was not.  The incidents related in it date back, according to
the "antiquaries" of the ninth to the twelfth centuries, some to the
Christian era, some to a period long anterior to it; but occasional
allusions to events that were unknown in Ireland before the
introduction of Christianity, and a few to classical personages, show
that the form of the present romances can hardly be pre-Christian, or
even close translations into Old or Middle Irish of Druidic tales.  It
has therefore been the fashion to speak of the romances as inaccurate
survivals of pre-Christian works, which have been added to by
successive generations of "bards," a mode of viewing our versions of
the romances which of course puts them out of the category of original
literature and hands them over to the antiquarians; but before they
suffer this fate, it is reasonable to ask that their own literary merit
should be considered in a more serious manner than has yet been
attempted.

The idea that our versions of the romances are inaccurate reproductions
of Druidic tales is not at all borne out by a study of the romances
themselves; for each of these, except for a few very manifestly late
insertions, has a style and character of its own.  There were,
undoubtedly, old traditions, known to the men who in the sixth and
seventh centuries may have written the tales that we have, known even
to men who in the tenth and eleventh centuries copied them and
commented upon them; but the romances as they now stand do not look
like pieces of patchwork, but like the works of men who had ideas to
convey; and to me at least they seem to bear approximately the same
relation to the Druid legends as the works of the Attic tragedians bear
to the archaic Greek legends on which their tragedies were based.  In
more than one case, as in the "Courtship of Etain," which is more fully
discussed below, there are two versions of the same tale, the framework
being the same in both, while the treatment of the incidents and the
view of the characters of the actors is essentially different; and when
the story is treated from the antiquarian point of view, that which
regards both versions as resting upon a common prehistoric model, the
question arises, which of the two more nearly represents the "true"
version? There is, I would submit, in such cases, no true version.  The
old Druidic story, if it could be found, would in all probability
contain only a very small part of either of our two versions; it would
be bald, half-savage in tone, like one of the more ancient Greek myths,
and producing no literary effect; the literary effect of both the
versions that we have, being added by men who lived in Christian times,
were influenced by Christian ideals, and probably were, like many of
their contemporaries, familiar with the literary bequests of the
ancient world.[FN#2]


[FN#2]  It seems to be uncertain whether or not the writers of the
Irish romances shared in the classical learning for which Ireland was
noted in their time.  The course of study at the schools established
for the training of the fili in the tenth and eleventh centuries was
certainly, as has been pointed out, very different from that of the
ecclesiastical schools (see Joyce, vol. i. p. 430).  No classical
instruction was included in this training, but it is not certain that
this separation of studies was so complete before what is called the
"antiquarian age" set in.  Cormac mac Cuninan, for example, was a
classical scholar, and at the same time skilled in the learning of the
fili.  It should also be observed that the course at the ecclesiastical
schools, as handed down to us, hardly seems to be classical enough to
have produced a Columbanus or an Erigena; the studies that produced
these men must have been of a different kind, and the lay schools as
originally established by Sanchan Torpest may have included much that
afterwards gave place to a more purely Irish training.  The tale of
Troy seems to have been known to the fili, and there are in their works
allusions to Greek heroes, to Hercules and Hector, but it has been
pointed out by Mr. Nutt that there is little if any evidence of
influence produced by Latin or Greek literature on the actual matter or
thought of the older Irish work.  On this point reference may be made
to a note on "Mae Datho's Boar" in this volume (p. 173), but even if
this absence of classical influence is established (and it is hard to
say what will not be found in Irish literature), it is just possible
that the same literary feeling which made Irish writers of
comparatively late tales keep the bronze weapons and chariots of an
earlier date in their accounts of ancient wars, while they described
arms of the period when speaking of battles of their own time, affected
them in this instance also; and that they had enough restraint to
refrain from introducing classical and Christian ideas when speaking of
times in which they knew these ideas would have been unfamiliar.


It may be, and often is, assumed that the appearance of grotesque or
savage passages in a romance is an indication of high antiquity, and
that these passages at least are faithful reproductions of Druidic
originals, but this does not seem to be quite certain.  Some of these
passages, especially in the case of romances preserved in the Leabhar
na h-Uidhri (The Book of the Dun Cow), look like insertions made by
scribes of an antiquarian turn of mind,[FN#3] and are probably of very
ancient date; in other cases, as for example in the "Boar of Mac
Datho," where Conall dashes Anluan's head into Ket's face, the savagery
is quite in 'keeping with the character of the story, and way have been
deliberately invented by an author living in Christian times, to add a
flavour to his tale, although in doing so he probably imitated a
similar incident in some other legend.  To take a classical parallel,
the barbarity shown by Aeneas in Aeneid x. 518-520, in sacrificing four
youths on the funeral pyre of Pallas, an act which would have been
regarded with horror in Virgil's own day, does not prove that there was
any ancient tale of the death of Pallas in which these victims were
sacrificed, nor even that such victims were sacrificed in ancient
Latium in Pallas' day; but it does show that Virgil was familiar with
the fact that such victims used in some places to be sacrificed on
funeral pyres; for, in a sense, he could not have actually invented the
incident.


[FN#3]  See the exhibition of the tips of tongues in the "Sick-bed of
Cuchulain," page 57.


Thus the appearance of an archaic element in an Irish romance is in
itself no proof of the Druidic origin of that form of the romance, nor
even of the existence of that element in the romance's earliest form:
upon such a principle the archaic character of the motif of the
"Oedipus Coloneus" would prove it to be the oldest of the Greek
tragedies, while as
a matter of fact it seems to be doubtful whether the introduction of
this motif into the story of Oedipus was not due to Sophocles himself,
although of course he drew the idea of it, if not from the original
legend of Oedipus, from some other early legend.

The most satisfactory test of the authorship of an Irish romance, and
one of the most satisfactory tests of its date, is its literary
character; and if we look at the literary character of the best of the
Irish romances, there is one point that is immediately apparent, the
blending of prose and verse.  One, the most common, explanation of
this, is that the verse was added to the original tale, another that
the verse is the older part, the prose being added to make a framework
for the verse, but a general view of some of the original romances
appears to lead to a very different conclusion.  It seems much more
probable that the Irish authors deliberately chose a method of making
their work at once literary and suited to please a popular audience;
they told their stories in plain prose, adding to them verse, possibly
chanted by the reciters of the stories, so that while the prose told
the story in simple language, the emotions of pity, martial ardour, and
the like were awakened by the verse.  They did not use the epic form,
although their knowledge of classical literature must have made them
familiar with it; the Irish epic form is Romance.  They had, besides
the prose and what may be called the "regular" verse, a third form,
that of rose, or as it is sometimes called rhetoric, which is a very
irregular form of verse.  Sometimes it rhymes, but more often not; the
lines are of varying lengths, and to scan them is often very difficult,
an alliteration taking the place of scansion in many cases.  The
rhetoric does not in general develop the story nor take the form of
description, it usually consists of songs of triumph, challenges,
prophecies, and exhortations, though it is sometimes used for other
purposes.  It does not conform to strict grammatical rules like the
more regular verse and the prose, and many of the literal translations
which Irish scholars have made for us of the romances omit this
rhetoric entirely, owing to the difficulty in rendering it accurately,
and because it does not develop the plots of the stories.  Notable
examples of such omissions are in Miss Faraday's translation of the
Leabhar na h-Uidhri version of the "Great Tain," and in Whitley Stokes'
translation of the "Destruction of Da Derga's Hostel."  With all
respect to these scholars, and with the full consciousness of the
difficulty of the task that has naturally been felt by one who has
vainly attempted to make sense of what their greater skill has omitted,
it may be suggested that the total omission of such passages injures
the literary effect of a romance in a manner similar to the effect of
omitting all the choric pieces in a Greek tragedy: the rhetoric indeed,
on account of its irregularity, its occasional strophic correspondence,
its general independence of the action of the tale, and its difficulty
as compared with the other passages, may be compared very closely to a
Greek "chorus."  Few of the romances written in prose and verse are
entirely without rhetoric; but some contain very little of it; all the
six romances of this character given in the present volume (counting as
two the two versions of "Etain") contain some rhetoric, but there are
only twenty-one such passages in the collection altogether, ten of
which are in one romance, the "Sick-bed of Cuchulain."

The present collection is an attempt to give to English readers some of
the oldest romances in English literary forms that seem to correspond
to the literary forms which were used in Irish to produce the same
effect, and has been divided into two parts.  The first part contains
five separate stories, all of which are told in the characteristic form
of prose and verse: they are the "Courtship of Etain," the "Boar of Mac
Datho," the "Sick-bed of Cuchulain," the "Death of the Sons of Usnach"
(Book of Leinster version), and the "Combat at the Ford" out of the
Book of Leinster version of the "Tain bo Cuailnge."  Two versions are
given of the "Courtship of Etain "; and the "Sick-bed of Cuchulain," as
is pointed out in the special preface prefixed to it, really consists
of two independent versions.  It was at first intended to add the
better-known version of the "Death of the Sons of Usnach" known as that
of the Glenn Masain MS., but the full translation of this has been
omitted, partly to avoid making the volume too bulky, partly because
this version is readily attainable in a literal form; an extract from
it has, however, been added to the Book of Leinster version for the
purpose of comparison.  In the renderings given of these romances the
translation of the prose is nearly literal, but no attempt has been
made to follow the Irish idiom where this idiom sounds harsh in
English; actives have been altered to passive forms and the reverse,
adjectives are sometimes replaced by short sentences which give the
image better in English, pronouns, in which Irish is very rich, are
often replaced by the persons or things indicated, and common words,
like iarom, iarsin, iartain, immorro, and the like (meaning thereafter,
moreover, &c.), have been replaced by short sentences that refer back
to the events indicated by the words.  Nothing has been added to the
Irish, except in the Leabhar na h-Uidhri version of "Etain," where
there is a lacuna to be filled up, and there are no omissions.  The
translations of the verse and of the rhetoric are, so far as is
possible, made upon similar lines; it was at first intended to add
literal renderings of all the verse passages, but it was found that to
do so would make the volume of an unmanageable size for its purpose.
Literal renderings of all the verse passages in "Etain," the first of
the tales in volume i., are given in the notes to that story; the
literal renderings of Deirdre's lament in the "Sons of Usnach," and of
two poems in "The Combat at the Ford," are also given in full as
specimens, but in the case of most of the poems reference is made to
easily available literal translations either in English or German:
where the literal rendering adopted differs from that referred to, or
where the poem in question has not before been translated, the literal
rendering has been given in the notes.  These examples will, it is
believed, give a fair indication of the relation between my verse
translations and the originals, the deviations from which have been
made as small as possible.  The form of four-line verse divided into
stanzas has generally been used to render the passages in four-lined
verse in the Irish, the only exception to this rule being in the verses
at the end of the "Boar of Mac Datho": these are in the nature of a
ballad version of the whole story, and have been rendered in a ballad
metre that does not conform to the arrangement in verses of the
original.

The metre of all the Irish four-lined verses in this volume is, except
in two short pieces, a seven-syllabled line, the first two lines
usually rhyming with each other, and the last two similarly
rhyming,[FN#4] in a few cases in the "Boar of Mac Datho" these rhymes
are alternate, and in the extract from the Glenn Masain version of the
"Sons of Usnach" there is a more complicated rhyme system.  It has not
been thought necessary to reproduce this metre in all cases, as to do
so would sound too monotonous in English; the metre is, however,
reproduced once at least in each tale except in that of the "Death of
the Sons of Usnach."  The eight-lined metre that occurs in five of the
verse passages in the "Combat at the Ford" has in one case been
reproduced exactly, and in another case nearly exactly, but with one
syllable added to each line; the two passages in this romance that are
in five-syllabled lines have been reproduced exactly in the Irish
metre, in one case with the rhyme-system of the original.  With the
rhetoric greater liberty has been used; sometimes the original metre
has been followed, but more often not; and an occasional attempt has
been made to bring out the strophic correspondence in the Irish.


[FN#4]  An example of this metre is as follows:--

All the elves of Troom seem dead,
All their mighty deeds are fled;
For their Hound, who hounds surpassed,
Elves have bound in slumber fast.


In the first volume of the collection the presentation has then been
made as near as may be to the form and matter of the Irish; in the
second volume, called "Versified Romances," there is a considerable
divergence from the Irish form but not from its sense.   This part
includes the five "Tains" or Cattle-Forays of Fraech, Dartaid, Regamon,
Flidais, and Regamna; which in the originals differ from the five tales
in volume i, in that they include no verse, except for a few lines in
Regamna, most of which are untranslatable.  The last four of these are
short pieces written in a prose extremely rapid in its action, and
crowded with incident.  They are all expressly named as "fore-tales,"
remscela, or preludes to the story of the great war of Cualnge, which
is the central event in the Ulster heroic cycle, and appear suited for
rapid prose recitations, which were apparently as much a feature in
ancient as they are in modern Irish.  Such pieces can hardly be
reproduced in English prose so as to bring out their character; they
are represented in English by the narrative ballad, and they have been
here rendered in this way.  Literal translations in prose are printed
upon the opposite page to the verse, these translations being much more
exact than the translations in the first volume, as the object in this
case is to show the literal Irish form, not its literal English
equivalent, which is in this case the verse.  The "Tain bo Fraich" is
also, in a sense, a "fore-tale" to the Great Raid, but is of a
different character to the others.  It consists of two parts, the
second of which is not unlike the four that have just been mentioned,
but the first part is of a much higher order, containing brilliant
descriptions, and at least one highly poetic passage although its Irish
form is prose.  Fraech has been treated like the other fore-tales, and
rendered in verse with literal prose opposite to the verse for the
purpose of comparison.  The notes to all the five Tana in the second
volume accompany the text; in the first volume all the notes to the
different romances are collected together, and placed at the end of the
volume.  The second volume also includes a transcript from the
facsimile of that part of the Irish text of the tale of Etain which has
not before been published, together with an interlinear literal
translation.  It is hoped that this arrangement may assist some who are
not Middle Irish scholars to realise what the original romances are.


The manuscript authorities for the eleven different romances (counting
as two the two versions of "Etain") are all old; seven are either in
the Leabhar na h-Uidhri, an eleventh-century manuscript, or in the Book
of Leinster, a twelfth-century one; three of the others are in the
fourteenth-century Yellow Book of Lecan, which is often, in the case of
texts preserved both in it and the Leabhar na h-Uidhri, regarded as the
better authority of the two; and the remaining one, the second version
of "Etain," is in the fifteenth-century manuscript known as Egerton,
1782, which gives in an accurate form so many texts preserved in the
older manuscripts that it is very nearly as good an authority as they.
The sources used in making the translations are also stated in the
special introductions, but it may be mentioned as a summary that the
four "Preludes," the Tana of Dartaid, Regamon, Flidais, and Regamna,
are taken from the text printed with accompanying German translations
by Windisch in Irische Texte, vol. ii.; Windisch's renderings being
followed in those portions of the text that he translates; for the
"Tain bo Fraich" and the "Combat at the Ford" the Irish as given by
O'Beirne Crowe and by O'Curry, with not very trustworthy English
translations, has been followed; in the case of the fragment of the
Glenn Masain version of "Deirdre" little reference has been made to the
Irish, the literal translation followed being that given by Whitley
Stokes.  The remaining five romances, the "Boar of Mac Datho," the
Leinster version of "Deirdre," the "Sick-bed of Cuchulain," the Egerton
version of "Etain," and the greater part of the Leabbar na h-Uidhri
version of the same, are taken from the Irish text printed without
translation in Irische Texte, vol. i., the end of the Leabhar na
h-Uidhri version omitted by Windisch being taken from the facsimile of
the manuscript published by the Royal Irish Academy.

I have to acknowledge with gratitude many corrections to O'Beirne
Crowe's translation of the "Tain bo Fraich" kindly given me by
Professor Kuno Meyer; in the case of O'Curry's translation of the
"Combat at the Ford," similar help kindly given me by Mr. E. J.
Quiggin; and in the case of the two versions of "Etain," more
especially for the part taken direct from the facsimile, I have to
express gratitude for the kind and ready help given to me by Professor
Strachan.  Professor Strachan has not only revised my transcript from
the facsimile, and supplied me with translations of the many difficult
passages in this of which I could make no sense, but has revised all
the translation which was made by the help of Windisch's glossary to
the Irische Texte of both the versions of "Etain," so that the
translations given of these two romances should be especially reliable,
although of course I may have made some errors which have escaped
Professor Strachan's notice.  The three other romances which have been
translated from the Irish in Irische Texte have not been similarly
revised, but all passages about which there appeared to be doubt have
been referred to in the notes to the individual romances.

It remains to add some remarks upon the general character of the tales,
which, as may be seen after a very cursory examination, are very
different both in tone and merit, as might indeed be expected if we
remember that we are probably dealing with the works of men who were
separated from each other by a gap of hundreds of years.  Those who
have read the actual works of the ancient writers of the Irish romances
will not readily indulge in the generalisations about them used by
those to whom the romances are only known by abstracts or a
compilation.  Perhaps the least meritorious of those in this collection
are the "Tains" of Dartaid, Regamon, and Flidais, but the tones of
these three stories are very different.  Dartaid is a tale of fairy
vengeance for a breach of faith; Flidais is a direct and simple story
of a raid like a Border raid, reminding us of the "riding ballads" of
the Scottish Border, and does not seem to trouble itself much about
questions of right or wrong; Regamon is a merry tale of a foray by boys
and girls; it troubles itself with the rights of the matter even less
than Flidais if possible, and is an example of an Irish tale with what
is called in modern times a "good ending."  It may be noted that these
last two tales have no trace of the supernatural element which some
suppose that the Irish writers were unable to dispense with.  The "Tain
bo Regamna," the shortest piece in the collection, is a grotesque
presentation of the supernatural, and is more closely associated with
the Great Tain than any of the other fore-tales to it, the series of
prophecies with which it closes exactly following the action of the
part of the Tain, to which it refers.  Some of the grotesque character
of Regamna appears in the "Boar of Mac Datho," which, however, like
Regamon and Flidais, has no supernatural element; its whole tone is
archaic and savage, relieved by touches of humour, but the style of the
composition is much superior to that of the first three stories.  A
romance far superior to "Mae Datho" is the Leinster version of the
well-known Deirdre story, the "Death of the Sons of Usnach."  The
opening of the story is savage, the subsequent action of the prose is
very rapid, while the splendid lament at the end, one of the best
sustained laments in the language, and the restraint shown in its
account of the tragic death of Deirdre, place this version of the story
in a high position.  As has been already mentioned, parts of the
fifteenth-century version of the story have been added to this version
for purposes of comparison: the character of the Deirdre of the
Leinster version would not have been in keeping with the sentiment of
the lament given to her in the later account.

The remaining five romances (treating as two the two versions of
"Etain") all show great beauty in different ways.  Three of the four
tales given in them have "good endings," and the feeling expressed in
them is less primitive than that shown in the other stories, although
it is an open question whether any of them rises quite so high as
Deirdre's lament.  "Fraech" has, as has been mentioned before, two
quite separate parts; the second part is of inferior quality, showing,
however, an unusual amount of knowledge of countries lying outside
Celtdom, but the first is a most graceful romance; although the hero is
a demi-god, and the fairies play a considerable part in it, the
interest is essentially human; and the plot is more involved than is
the case in most of the romances.  It abounds in brilliant
descriptions; the description of the Connaught palace is of antiquarian
interest; and one of the most beautiful pieces of Celtic mythology, the
parentage of the three fairy harpers, is included in it.

The "Sick-bed of Cuchulain" and the Leabhar na h-Uidhri version of the
"Courtship of Etain" seem to have had their literary effect injured by
the personality of the compiler of the manuscript from which the
Leabhar na h-Uidhri was copied.  Seemingly an antiquarian, interested
in the remains of the old Celtic religion and in old ceremonies, he has
inserted pieces of antiquarian information into several of the romances
that he has preserved for us, and though these are often of great
interest in themselves, they spoil the literary effect of the romances
in which they appear.  It is possible that both the Leabhar na h-Uidhri
version of "Etain" and the "Sick-bed" might be improved by a little
judicious editing; they have, however, been left just as they stand in
the manuscript.  The "Sick-bed," as is pointed out in the special
introduction to it, consists of two separate versions; the first has
plainly some of the compiler's comments added to it, but the second and
longer part seems not to have been meddled with; and, although a
fragment, it makes a stately romance, full of human interest although
dealing with supernatural beings; and its conclusion is especially
remarkable in early literature on account of the importance of the
action of the two women who are the heroines of this part of the tale.
The action of Fand in resigning her lover to the weaker mortal woman
who has a better claim upon him is quite modern in its tone.

The nearest parallel to the longer version of the "Sick-bed" is the
Egerton version of "Etain," which is a complete one, and makes a
stately romance.  It is full of human interest, love being its keynote;
it keeps the supernatural element which is an essential to the original
legend in the background, and is of quite a different character to the
earlier Leabhar na h-Uidhri version, although there is no reason to
assume that the latter is really the more ancient in date.  In the
Leabbar na h-Uidhri version of "Etain," all that relates to the
love-story is told in the baldest manner, the part which deals with the
supernatural being highly descriptive and poetic.  I am inclined to
believe that the antiquarian compiler of the manuscript did here what
he certainly did in the case of the "Sick-bed of Cuchulain," and pieced
together two romances founded upon the same legend by different
authors.  The opening of the story in Fairyland and the concluding part
where Mider again appears are alike both in style and feeling, while
the part that comes between is a highly condensed version of the
love-story of the Egerton manuscript, and suggests the idea of an
abstract of the Egerton version inserted into the story as originally
composed, the effect being similar to that which would be produced upon
us if we had got Aeschylus' "Choaphorae" handed down to us with a
condensed version of the dialogue between Electra and Chrysothemis out
of Sophocles' "Electra" inserted by a conscientious antiquarian who
thought that some mention of Chrysothemis was necessary.  This version
of the legend, however, with its strong supernatural flavour, its
insistence on the idea of re-birth, its observation of nature, and
especially the fine poem in which Mider invites Etain to Fairyland, is
a most valuable addition to the literature, and we have to lament the
gap in it owing to the loss of a column in that part of the Leabhar na
h-Uidhri manuscript which has been preserved.

The last piece to be mentioned is the extract from the "Tain be
Cuailnge" known as the "Combat at the Ford."  This seems to me the
finest specimen of old Irish work that has been preserved for us; the
brilliance of its descriptions, the appropriate changes in its metres,
the chivalry of its sentiments, and the rapidity of its action should,
even if there were nothing to stand beside it in Irish literature, give
that literature a claim to be heard: as an account of a struggle
between two friends, it is probably the finest in any literature.  It
has been stated recently, no doubt upon sound authority, that the
grammatical forms of this episode show it to be late, possibly dating
only to the eleventh century.  The manuscript in which it appears,
however, is of the earlier part of the twelfth century; no literary
modem work other than Irish can precede it in time; and if it is the
work of an eleventh-century author, it does seem strange that his name
or the name of some one of that date who could have written it has not
been recorded, as MacLiag's name has been as the traditional author of
the eleventh-century "Wars of the Gaedhill and the Gaill," for the
names of several Irish authors of that period axe well known, and the
Early Middle Irish texts of that period are markedly of inferior
quality.  Compare for example the Boromaean Tribute which Stokes
considers to take high rank among texts of that period (Revue Celtique,
xiii. p. 32).  One would certainly like to believe that this episode of
the "Combat at the Ford" belongs to the best literary period, with
which upon literary grounds it seems to be most closely connected.

But, whether this comparative lateness of the "Combat at the Ford" be
true or not, it, together with all the varied work contained in this
collection, with the possible exception of the short extract from the
Glenn Masain "Deirdre," is in the actual form that we have it, older
than the Norman Conquest of Ireland, older than the Norse Sagas.  Its
manuscript authority is older than that of the Volsunga Saga; its
present form precedes the birth of Chretien de Troyes, the first
considerable name in French literature, and, in a form not much unlike
that in which we have it, it is probably centuries older than its
actual manuscript date.  The whole thing stands at the very beginning
of the literature of Modern Europe, and compares by no means
unfavourably with that which came after, and may, in part, have been
inspired by it.  Surely it deserves to be raised from its present
position as a study known only to a few specialists, and to form part
of the mental equipment of every man who is for its own sake interested
in and a lover of literature.




INTRODUCTION IN VERSE



'Tis hard an audience now to win
For lore that Ireland's tales can teach;
And faintly, 'mid the modern din,
Is heard the old heroic speech.

For long the tales in silence slept;
The ancient tomes by few were read;
E'en those who still its knowledge kept
Have thought the living music dead.

And some, to save the lore from death,
With modern arts each tale would deck,
Inflate its rhymes with magic breath,
As if to buoy a sinking wreck.

They graft new morbid magic dreams
On tales where beating life is felt:
In each romance find mystic gleams,
And traces of the "moody Celt."

Yet, though with awe the grassy mound
That fairies haunt, is marked to-day;
And though in ancient tales are found
Dim forms of gods, long passed away;

Though later men to magic turned,
Inserting many a Druid spell;
And ill the masters' craft had learned
Who told the tales, and told them well;

No tale should need a magic dress
Or modern art, its life to give:
Each for itself, or great, or less,
Should speak, if it deserves to live.

Think not a dull, a scribal pen
Dead legends wrote, half-known, and feared:
In lettered lands to poet men
Romance, who lives to-day, appeared.

For when, in fear of warrior bands,
Had Learning fled the western world,
And, raised once more by Irish hands,
Her banner stood again unfurled;

'Twas there, where men her laws revered,
That Learning aided Art's advance;
And Ireland bore, and Ireland reared
These Eldest Children of Romance.

Her poets knew the Druid creeds;
Yet not on these their thoughts would rest:
They sang of love, of heroes' deeds,
Of kingly pomp, of cheerful jest.

Not as in Greece aspired their thought,
They joyed in battles wild and stern;
Yet pity once to men they taught
From whom a fiercer age could learn.

Their frequent theme was war: they sang
The praise of chiefs of courage high;
Yet, from their harps the accents rang
That taught to knighthood chivalry.

Their heroes praise a conquered foe,
Oppose their friends for honour's sake,
To weaker chieftains mercy show,
And strength of cruel tyrants break.

Their nobles, loving fame, rejoice
In glory, got from bards, to shine;
Yet thus ascends Cuchulain's voice:
"No skill indeed to boast is mine!"

They sang, to please a warlike age,
Of wars, and women's wild lament,
Yet oft, restraining warriors' rage,
Their harps to other themes were bent.

They loved on peaceful pomp to dwell,
Rejoiced in music's magic strains,.
All Nature's smiling face loved well,
And "glowing hues of flowery plains."

Though oft of Fairy Land they spoke,
No eerie beings dwelled therein,
'Twas filled throughout with joyous folk
Like men, though freed from death and sin.

And sure those bards were truest knights
Whose thoughts of women high were set,
Nor deemed them prizes, won in fights,
But minds like men's, and women yet.

With skilful touch they paint us each,
Etain, whose beauty's type for all;
Scathach, whose warriors skill could teach
Emer, whose words in wisdom fall;

Deirdre the seer, by love made keen;
Flidais, whose bounty armies feeds
The prudent Mugain, Conor's queen;
Crund's wife, more swift than Conor's steeds;

Finnabar, death for love who dared;
Revengeful Ferb, who died of grief
Fand, who a vanquished rival spared;
Queen Maev, who Connaught led, its chief.

Not for the creeds their lines preserve
Should Ireland's hero tales be known
Their pictured pages praise deserve
From all, not learned men alone.

Their works are here; though flawed by time,
To all the living verses speak
Of men who taught to Europe rhyme,
Who knew no masters, save the Greek.

In forms like those men loved of old,
Naught added, nothing torn away,
The ancient tales again are told,
Can none their own true magic sway?




PRONUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES



The following list of suggested pronunciations does not claim to be
complete or to be necessarily correct in all cases.  Some words like
Ferdia and Conchobar (Conor) have an established English pronunciation
that is strictly speaking wrong; some, like Murthemne are doubtful; the
suggestions given here are those adopted by the editor for such
information as is at his disposal.  It seems to be unnecessary to give
all the names, as the list would be too long; this list contains those
names in the first volume as are of frequent occurrence; names that
occur less commonly, and some of those in the following list, have a
pronunciation indicated in foot-notes.  The most important names are in
small capitals.




LIST OF NAMES



Aife (Ee-fa), pp. 117, 129, 1342 141, 148, an instructress of
Cuchulain, Ferdia, and others in the art of war.

Cathbad (Cah-ba), pp. 91, 92, 93, 95, a Druid.

Cualgne (Kell-ny), mentioned in the Preface, Introductions, the
"Combat" and elsewhere; a district corresponding to County Louth.

Cuchulain (Cu-hoo-lin), the hero of the "Sick-bed" and the "Combat,"
and of the Ulster Heroic cycle in general.

Deirdre (Dire-dree), the heroine of the "Exile of the Sons of Usnach."

Dubhtach (Doov-ta), pp. 48, 97, 98, 107, an Ulster hero.

Eochaid Airem (Yeo-hay Arrem), the king in the "Courtship of Etain."

Eochaid Juil (Yeo-hay Yool), pp. 63, 70, 76, 79, a fairy king killed by
Cuchulain.

Eogan mac Durthacht (Yeogan mac Door-ha), pp. 43, 48, 93, 97, 101, 107;
an Ulster hero, the slayer of the sons of Usnach.

Etain (Et-oyn), the heroine of the "Courtship of Etain."

Ferdia (Fer-dee-a), Cuchulain's opponent in the "Combat at the Ford."
The true pronunciation is probably Fer-deed.

Fuamnach (Foom-na), pp. 79 9, 10, 19, 26, a sorceress.

Laeg (Layg), son of Riangabra (Reen-gabra), the charioteer and friend
of Cuchulain, frequently mentioned in the "Sick-bed" and the "Combat at
the Ford."

Laegaire (Leary), pp. 42, 46, 67, an Ulster hero.

Leabhar na h-Uidhri (Lyow-er na hoorie), frequently mentioned, the
oldest Irish manuscript of romance.  It means the "Book of the Dun
Cow," sometimes referred to as L.U.

Mac Datho (Mac Da-ho), king of Leinster in the "Boar of Mac Datho," the
word means "son of two mutes."

Murthemne (Moor-temmy), pp. 57, 59, 61, 73, 77, 78, a district in
Ulster, with which Cuchulain is connected in the "Sick-bed" (in the
"Combat" he is "Cuchulain of Cualgne").

Naisi (Nay-see), the hero of the "Exile of the Sons of Usnach."

Scathach (Ska-ha), pp. 117, 129) 131, 134, 141, 149, 151 a sorceress in
the Isle of Skye, instructress of Cuchulain in war.

Uathach (Oo-ha), pp. 117, 129, 134; 141) 149, daughter of Scathach.




Other prominent characters, in the pronunciation of whose names as
given in the text no special assistance is required, are:



Ailill mac Mata (Al-ill), king of Connaught.

Ailill Anglonnach, lover of Etain, in the "Courtship of Etain."

Conall Cernach, Conall the Victorious, second champion of Ulster after
Cuchulain.

Conor (properly spelt Conchobar and pronounced Con-ower), king of
Ulster.

Emer, wife of Cuchulain, appears often in the "Sick-bed."  This name is
by some pronounced A-vair, probably from a different spelling.

Fand, the fairy princess, in love with Cuchulain, in the "Sick-bed."

Fergus, son of Rog, prominent in the "Exile of the Sons of Usnach," and
in "Combat"; step-father to King Conor, he appears in most of the
romances.

Ket (spelt Cet), son of Mata, the Connaught champion, appears in the
"Boar of Mac Datho."

Maev (spelt Medb), the great Queen of Connaught.

Mider, Etain's fairy lover, in the "Courtship of Etain."




CONTENTS



THE COURTSHIP OF ETAIN

MAC DATHO'S BOAR

THE SICK-BED OF CUCHULAIN

THE EXILE OF THE SONS OF USNACH

THE COMBAT AT THE FORD

SPECIAL NOTE ON THE COMBAT AT THE FORD

GENERAL NOTES




THE COURTSHIP OF ETAIN



INTRODUCTION


The date which tradition assigns to the events related in the tale of
the "Courtship of Etain" is about B.C. 100, two or, according to some
accounts, three generations before the king Conaire Mor, or Conary,
whose death is told in the tale called the "Destruction of Da Derga's
Hostel."  This king is generally spoken of as a contemporary of the
chief personages of what is called more especially the "Heroic Age" of
Ireland; and the two versions of the "Courtship of Etain" given in this
volume at once introduce a difficulty; for the sub-kings who were
tributary to Eochaid, Etain's husband, are in both versions stated to
be Conor, Ailill mac Mata, Mesgegra, and Curoi, all of whom are
well-known figures in the tales of the Heroic Age.  As Conary is
related to have ruled sixty years, and several of the characters of the
Heroic Age survived him, according to the tale that describes his
death, the appearance of the names of Conor and Ailill in a tale about
his grandfather (or according to the Egerton version his
great-grandfather) introduces an obvious discrepancy.

It appears to be quite impossible to reconcile the dates given to the
actors in the tales of the Heroic and preceding age.  They seem to have
been given in the "antiquarian age" of the tenth and eleventh
centuries; not only do they differ according to different chronologers
by upwards of a hundred years, but the succession of kings in the
accounts given by the same chronologer is often impossible in view of
their mutual relationships.  The real state of things appears to be
that the "Courtship of Etain," together with the story of Conary, the
lost tale of the destruction of the Fairy Hill of Nennta,[FN#5] and the
tale of the Bull-Feast and election of Lugaid Red-Stripes as king of
Ireland, forms a short cycle of romance based upon ancient legends that
had originally no connection at all with those on which the romances of
the Heroic Age were built.  The whole government of the country is
essentially different in the two cycles; in the Etain cycle the idea is
that of a land practically governed by one king, the vassal kings being
of quite small importance; in the tales of the Heroic Age proper, the
picture we get is of two, if not of four, practically independent
kingdoms, the allusions to any over-king being very few, and in great
part late.  But when the stories of Etain and of Conary assumed their
present forms, when the writers of our romances formed them out of the
traditions which descended to them from pro-Christian sources, both
cycles of tradition were pretty well known; and there was a natural
tendency to introduce personages from one cycle into the other,
although these personages occupy a subordinate position in the cycle to
which they do not properly belong.  Even Conall Cernach, who is a
fairly prominent figure in the tale of the death of Conary, has little
importance given to him compared with the people who really belong to
the cycle, and the other warriors of the Heroic Age mentioned in the
tale are little but lay figures compared with Conary, Ingcel, and Mac
Cecht.  A wish to connect the two cycles probably accounts for the
connection of Lugaid Red-Stripes with Cuchulain, the introduction of
Conor and Ailill into the story of Etain may be due to the same cause,
and there is no need to suppose that the authors of our versions felt
themselves bound by what other men had introduced into the tale of
Conary.  The practice of introducing heroes from one cycle into another
was by no means uncommon, or confined to Ireland; Greek heroes' names
sometimes appear in the Irish tales; Cuchulain, in much later times,
comes into the tales of Finn; and in Greece itself, characters who
really belong to the time of the Trojan War appear in tales of the
Argonauts.


[FN#5]  A short account of this is in the story of King Dathi (O'Curry
Lectures, p. 286). The tale seems to be alluded to in the quatrain on
p. 10 of this volume.


There are very few corresponding allusions to personages from the small
Etain cycle found in the great cycle of romances that belong to the
Heroic Age, but MacCecht's name appears in a fifteenth-century
manuscript which gives a version of the tale of Flidais; and I suspect
an allusion to the Etain story in a verse in the "Sick-bed of
Cuchulain" (see note, p. 184).  It may be observed that the
introduction of Conor and his contemporaries into the story of Conary's
grandparents is an additional piece of evidence that our form of the
story of Etain precedes the "antiquarian age"; for at that time the
version which we have of the story of Conary must have been classical
and the connection of Conor's warriors with Conary well-known.  A keen
eye was at that time kept on departures from the recognised historical
order (compare a note by Mr. Nutt in the "Voyage of Bran," vol. ii. p.
61); and the introduction of Conor into our version of the tale of
Etain must have been at an earlier date.

The two versions of the "Courtship of Etain," the Egerton one, and that
in the Leabhar na h-Uidhri, have been compared in the general preface
to the volume, and little more need be said on this point; it may,
however, be noted that eight pages of the Egerton version (pp. 11 to
18) are compressed into two pages in L.U. (pp. 23 and 24).  References
to the Etain story are found in different copies of the "Dindshenchas,"
under the headings of Rath Esa, Rath Croghan, and Bri Leith; the
principal manuscript authorities, besides the two translated here, are
the Yellow Book of Lecan, pp. 91 to 104, and the Book of Leinster, 163b
(facsimile).  These do not add much to our versions; there are,
however, one or two new points in a hitherto untranslated manuscript
source mentioned by O'Curry ("Manners and Customs," vol. ii. p 192 to
194).

The Leabhar na h-Uidhri version is defective both at the beginning and
at the end; there is also a complete column torn from the manuscript,
making the description of the chess match defective.  These three gaps
have been filled up by short passages enclosed in square brackets, at
the commencement of the Prologue, on p. 28, and at the end of the L.U.
version.  The two first of these insertions contain no matter that
cannot be found by allusions in the version itself; the conclusion of
the tale is drawn, partly from the "Dindshenchas" of Rath Esa, partly
from the passage in O'Curry's "Manners and Customs."

The only alteration that has been made is that, following a suggestion
in Windisch (Irische Texte, i. p. 132), the poem on page 26 has been
placed four pages earlier than the point at which it occurs in the
manuscript.  Three very difficult lines (Leabhar na h-Uidhri, 132a,
lines 12 to 14) have not been attempted; there are no other omissions,
and no insertions except the three noted above.  The Prologue out of
the L.U. version has been placed first, as it is essential to the
understanding of any version, then follows the Egerton version as the
longer of the two, then the L.U. version of the Courtship, properly so
called.




PROLOGUE IN FAIRYLAND



FROM THE LEABHAR NA H-UIDHRI


Etain of the Horses, the daughter of Ailill, was the wife of Mider, the
Fairy Dweller in Bri Leith.[FN#6]  Now Mider had also another wife
named Fuamnach[FN#7] who was filled with jealousy against Etain, and
sought to drive her from her husband's house.  And Fuamnach sought out
Bressal Etarlam the Druid and besought his aid; and by the spells of
the Druid, and the sorcery of Fuamnach, Etain was changed into the
shape of a butterfly that finds its delight among flowers.  And when
Etain was in this shape she was seized by a great wind that was raised
by Fuamnach's spells; and she was borne from her husband's house by
that wind for seven years till she came to the palace of Angus Mac O'c
who was son to the Dagda, the chief god of the men of ancient Erin.
Mac O'c had been fostered by Mider, but he was at enmity with his
foster-father, and he recognised Etain, although in her transformed
shape, as she was borne towards him by the force] of the wind.  And he
made a bower for Etain with clear windows for it through which she
might pass, and a veil of purple was laid upon her; and that bower was
carried about by Mac O'c wherever he went.  And there each night she
slept beside him by a means that he devised, so that she became
well-nourished and fair of form; for that bower was filled with
marvellously sweet-scented shrubs, and it was upon these that she
thrived, upon the odour and blossom of the best of precious herbs.


[FN#6]  Pronounced Bree Lay.

[FN#7]  Pronounced Foom-na.


Now to Fuamnach came tidings of the love and the worship that Etain had
from Mac O'c, and she came to Mider, and "Let thy foster-son," said
she, "be summoned to visit thee, that I may make peace between you two,
and may then go to seek for news of Etain."  And the messenger from
Mider went to Mac O'c, and Mac O'c went to Mider to greet him; but
Fuamnach for a long time wandered from land to land till she was in
that very mansion where Etain was; and then she blew beneath her with
the same blast as aforetime, so that the blast carried her out of her
bower, and she was blown before it, as she had been before for seven
years through all the land of Erin, and she was driven by the wind of
that blast to weakness and woe.  And the wind carried her over the roof
of a house where the men of Ulster sat at their ale, so that she fell
through the roof into a cup of gold that stood near the wife of Etar
the Warrior, whose dwelling-place was near to the Bay of Cichmany in
the province that was ruled over by Conor.  And the woman swallowed
Etain together with the milk that was in the cup, and she bare her in
her womb, till the time came that she was born thereafter as in earthly
maid, and the name of Etain, the daughter of Etar, was given to her.
And it was one thousand and twelve years since the time of the first
begetting of Etain by Ailill to the time when she was born the second
time as the daughter of Etar.

Now Etain was nurtured at Inver Cichmany in the house of Etar, with
fifty maidens about her of the daughters of the chiefs of the land; and
it was Etar himself who still nurtured and clothed them, that they
might be companions to his daughter Etain.  And upon a certain day,
when those maidens were all at the river-mouth to bathe there, they saw
a horseman on the plain who came to the water towards them.  A horse he
rode that was brown, curvetting, and prancing, with a broad forehead
and a curly mane and tail.  Green, long, and flowing was the cloak that
was about him, his shirt was embroidered with embroidery of red gold,
and a great brooch of gold in his cloak reached to his shoulder on
either side.  Upon the back of that man was a silver shield with a
golden rim; the handle for the shield was silver, and a golden boss was
in the midst of the shield: he held in his hand a five-pointed spear
with rings of gold about it from the haft to the head.  The hair that
was above his forehead was yellow and fair; and upon his brow was a
circlet of gold, which confined the hair so that it fell not about his
face.  He stood for a while upon the shore of the bay; and he gazed
upon the maidens, who were all filled with love for him, and then he
sang this song:

West of Alba, near the Mound[FN#8]
Where the Fair-Haired Women play,
There, 'mid little children found,
Etain dwells, by Cichmain's Bay.

She hath healed a monarch's eye
By the well of Loch-da-lee;
Yea, and Etar's wife, when dry,
Drank her: heavy draught was she!

Chased by king for Etain's sake,
Birds their flight from Teffa wing:
'Tis for her Da-Arbre's lake
Drowns the coursers of the king.

Echaid, who in Meath shall reign,
Many a war for thee shall wage;
He shall bring on fairies bane,
Thousands rouse to battle's rage.

Etain here to harm was brought,
Etain's form is Beauty's test;
Etain's king in love she sought:
Etain with our folk shall rest!


[FN#8]  The metre of these verses is that of the Irish.


And after that he had spoken thus, the young warrior went away from the
place where the maidens were; and they knew not whence it was that he
had come, nor whither he departed afterwards.
Moreover it is told of Mac O'c, that after the disappearance of Etain
he came to the meeting appointed between him and Mider; and when he
found that Fuamnach was away: "'Tis deceit," said Mider, "that this
woman hath practised upon us; and if Etain shall be seen by her to be
in Ireland, she will work evil upon Etain."  "And indeed," said Mac
O'c, "it seemeth to me that thy guess may be true. For Etain hath long
since been in my own house, even in the palace where I dwell; moreover
she is now in that shape into which that woman transformed her; and
'tis most likely that it is upon her that Fuamnach hath rushed."  Then
Mac O'c went back to his palace, and he found his bower of glass empty,
for Etain was not there. And Mac O'c turned him, and he went upon the
track of Fuamnach, and he overtook her at Oenach Bodbgnai, in the house
of Bressal Etarlam the Druid.  And Mac O'c attacked her, and he struck
off her head, and he carried the head with him till he came to within
his own borders.

Yet a different tale hath been told of the end of Fuamnach, for it hath
been said that by the aid of Manannan both Fuamnach and Mider were
slain in Bri Leith, and it is of that slaying that men have told when
they said:

Think on Sigmall, and Bri with its forest:
Little wit silly Fuamnach had learned;
Mider's wife found her need was the sorest,
When Bri Leith by Manannan was burned.




THE COURTSHIP OF ETAIN



EGERTON VERSION


Once there was a glorious and stately king who held the supreme
lordship over all the land of Ireland.  The name of the king was
Eochaid Airemm, and he was the son of Finn, who was the son of Finntan;
who was the son of Rogan the Red; who was the son of Essamain; who was
the son of Blathecht; who was the son of Beothecht; who was the son of
Labraid the Tracker; who was the son of Enna the Swift; who was the son
of Angus of Tara, called the Shamefaced; who was the son of Eochaid the
Broad-jointed; who was the son of Ailill of the Twisted Teeth; who was
the son of Connla the Fair; who was the son of Irer; who was the son of
Melghe the Praiseworthy; who was the son of Cobhtach the Slender from
the plain of Breg; who was the son of Ugaine the Great; who was the son
of Eochaid the Victorious.

Now all the five provinces of Ireland were obedient to the rule of
Eochaid Airemm: for Conor the son of Ness, the king of Ulster, was
vassal to Eochaid; and Messgegra the king of Leinster was his vassal;
and so was Curoi, the son of Dare, king of the land of Munster; and so
were Ailill and Maev, who ruled over the land of Connaught.  Two great
strongholds were in the hands of Eochaid: they were the strongholds of
Fremain in Meath, and of Fremain in Tethba; and the stronghold that he
had in Tethba was more pleasing to him than any of those that he
possessed.
Less than a year had passed since Eochaid first assumed the sovereignty
over Erin, when the news was proclaimed at once throughout all the land
that the Festival of Tara should be held, that all the men of Ireland
should come into the presence of their king, and that he desired full
knowledge of the tributes due from, and the customs proper to each.
And the one answer that all of the men of Ireland made to his call was:
"That they would not attend the Festival of Tara during such time,
whether it be long or short, that the king of Ireland remained without
a wife that was worthy of him;" for there is no noble who is a wifeless
man among the men of Ireland; nor can there be any king without a
queen; nor does any man go to the Festival of Tara without his wife;
nor does any wife go thither without her husband.

Thereupon Eochaid sent out from him his horsemen, and his wizards, and
his officers who had the care of the roads, and his couriers of the
boundaries throughout all Ireland; and they searched all Ireland as
they sought for a wife that should be worthy of the king, in her form,
and her grace, and her countenance, and her birth.  And in addition to
all this there yet remained one condition: that the king would take as
his wife none who had been before as a wife to any other man before him.

And after that they had received these commands, his horsemen, and his
wizards, and his officers who had the care of the roads, and the
couriers of the boundaries went out; and they searched all Ireland
south and north; and near to the Bay of Cichmany they found a wife
worthy of the king; and her name was Etain the daughter of Etar, who
was the king of Echrad.  And his messengers returned to Eochaid, and
they told him of the maiden, of her form, and her grace, and her
countenance.  And Eochaid came to that place to take the maiden thence,
and this was the way that he took; for as he crossed over the ground
where men hold the assembly of Bri Leith, he saw the maiden at the
brink of the spring.  A clear comb of silver was held in her hand, the
comb was adorned with gold; and near her, as for washing, was a bason
of silver whereon four birds had been chased, and there were little
bright gems of carbuncle on the rims of the bason.  A bright purple
mantle waved round her; and beneath it was another mantle, ornamented
with silver fringes: the outer mantle was clasped over her bosom with a
golden brooch.  A tunic she wore, with a long hood that might cover her
head attached to it; it was stiff and glossy with green silk beneath
red embroidery of gold, and was clasped over her breasts with
marvellously wrought clasps of silver and gold; so that men saw the
bright gold and the green silk flashing against the sun.  On her head
were two tresses of golden hair, and each tress had been plaited into
four strands; at the end of each strand was a little ball of gold.  And
there was that maiden, undoing her hair that she might wash it, her two
arms out through the armholes of her smock.  Each of her two arms was
as white as the snow of a single night, and each of her cheeks was as
rosy as the foxglove.  Even and small were the teeth in her head, and
they shone like pearls.  Her eyes were as blue as a hyacinth, her lips
delicate and crimson; very high, soft, and white were her shoulders.
Tender, polished, and white were her wrists; her fingers long, and of
great whiteness; her nails were beautiful and pink.  White as the snow,
or as the foam of the wave, was her side; long was it, slender, and as
soft as silk.  Smooth and white were her thighs; her knees were round
and firm and white; her ankles were as straight as the rule of a
carpenter.  Her feet were slim, and as white as the ocean's foam;
evenly set were her eyes; her eyebrows were of a bluish black, such as
ye see upon the shell of a beetle.  Never a maid fairer than she, or
more worthy of love, was till then seen by the eyes of men; and it
seemed to them that she must be one of those who have come from the
fairy mounds: it is of this maiden that men have spoken when it hath
been said: "All that's graceful must be tested by Etain; all that's
lovely by the standard of Etain."

Grace with Etain's grace compare!
Etain's face shall test what's fair!

And desire of her seized upon the king; and he sent a man of his people
in front of him to go to her kindred, in order that she might abide to
await his coming.  And afterwards the king came to the maiden, and he
sought speech from her: "Whence art thou sprung, O maiden?" says
Eochaid, "and whence is it that thou hast come?"  "It is easy to answer
thee," said the maiden: "Etain is my name, the daughter of the king of
Echrad; 'out of the fairy mound' am I"  "Shall an hour of dalliance
with thee be granted to me?" said Eochaid.  "'Tis for that I have come
hither under thy safeguard," said she.  "And indeed twenty years have I
lived in this place, ever since I was born in the mound where the
fairies dwell, and the men who dwell in the elf-mounds, their kings and
their nobles, have been a-wooing me: yet to never a one of them was
granted sleep with me, for I have loved thee, and have set my love and
affection upon thee; and that ever since I was a little child, and had
first the gift of speech.  It was for the high tales of thee, and of
thy splendour, that I have loved thee thus; and though I have never
seen thee before, I knew thee at once by reason of the report of thee
that I had heard; it is thou, I know, to whom we have attained."  "It
is no evil-minded lover who now inviteth thee," says Eochaid.  "Thou
shalt be welcomed by me, and I will leave all women for thy sake, and
thine alone will I be so long as it is pleasing to thee."  "Let the
bride-price that befits me be paid," said the maiden, "and after that
let my desire be fulfilled."  "It shall be as thou hast said," the king
answered her; and he gave the value of seven cumals to be her
brideprice; and after that he brought her to Tara, whereon a fair and
hearty welcome was made to her.

Now there were three brothers of the one blood, all sons of Finn,
namely, Eochaid Airem, and Eochaid, and Ailill Anglonnach, or Ailill of
the Single Stain, because the only stain that was upon him was the love
that he had for his brother's wife.  And at that time came all the men
of Ireland to hold the festival of Tara; they were there for fourteen
days before Samhain, the day when the summer endeth, and for fourteen
days after that day.  It was at the feast of Tara that love for Etain
the daughter of Etar came upon Ailill Anglonnach; and ever so long as
they were at the Tara Feast, so long he gazed upon the maid.  And it
was there that the wife of Ailill spoke to him; she who was the
daughter of Luchta of the Red Hand, who came from the province of
Leinster: "Ailill," said she, "why dost thou gaze at her from afar? for
long gazing is a token of love."  And Ailill gave blame to himself for
this thing, and after that he looked not upon the maid.

Now it followed that after that the Feast of Tara had been consumed,
the men of Ireland parted from one another, and then it was that Ailill
became filled with the pangs of envy and of desire; and he brought upon
himself the choking misery of a sore sickness, and was borne to the
stronghold of Fremain in Tethba after that he had fallen into that woe.
 There also, until a whole year had ended, sickness long brooded over
Ailill, and for long was he in distress, yet he allowed none to know of
his sickness.  And there Eochaid came to learn of his brother's state,
and he came near to his brother, and laid his hand upon his chest; and
Ailill heaved a sigh.  "Why," said Eochaid, "surely this sickness of
thine is not such as to cause thee to lament; how fares it with thee?"
"By my word," said Ailill, "'tis no easier that I grow; but it is worse
each day, and each night."  "Why, what ails thee?" said Eochaid, "By my
word of truth," said Ailill, "I know not."  "Bring one of my folk
hither," said Eochaid, "one who can find out the cause of this illness."

Then Fachtna, the chief physician of Eochaid, was summoned to give aid
to Ailill, and he laid his hand upon his chest, and Ailill heaved a
sigh.  "Ah," said Fachtna, "there is no need for lament in this matter,
for I know the cause of thy sickness; one or other of these two evils
oppresseth thee, the pangs of envy, or the pangs of love: nor hast thou
been aided to escape from them until now."  And Ailill was full of
shame, and he refused to confess to Fachtna the cause of his illness,
and the physician left him.

Now, after all this, king Eochaid went in person to make a royal
progress throughout the realm of Ireland, and he left Etain behind him
in his fortress; and "Lady," said he, "deal thou gently with Ailill so
long as he is yet alive; and, should he die," said he, "do thou see
that his burial mound be heaped for him; and that a standing-stone be
set up in memory of him; and let his name be written upon it in letters
of Ogham."  Then the king went away for the space of a year, to make
his royal progress throughout the realm of Ireland, and Ailill was left
behind, in the stronghold of Fremain of Tethba; there to pass away and
to die.

Now upon a certain day that followed, the lady Etain came to the house
where Ailill lay in his sickness, and thus she spoke to him: "What is
it," she said, "that ails thee? thy sickness is great, and if we but
knew anything that would content thee, thou shouldest have it."  It was
thus that at that time she spoke, and she sang a verse of a song, and
Ailill in song made answer to her:


Etain

Young man, of the strong step and splendid,
What hath bound thee? what ill dost thou bear?
Thou hast long been on sick-bed extended,
Though around thee the sunshine was fair.


Ailill

There is reason indeed for my sighing,
I joy naught at my harp's pleasant sound;
Milk untasted beside me is lying;
And by this in disease am I bound.


Etain

Tell me all, thou poor man, of thine ailing;
For a maiden am I that is wise;
Is there naught, that to heal thee availing,
Thou couldst win by mine aid, and arise


Ailill

If I told thee, thou beautiful maiden,
My words, as I formed them, would choke,
For with fire can eyes' curtains be laden:
Woman-secrets are evil, if woke.


Etain

It is ill woman-secrets to waken;
Yet with Love, its remembrance is long;
And its part by itself may be taken,
Nor a thought shall remain of the wrong.


Ailill

I adore thee, white lady, as grateful;
Yet thy bounty deserve I but ill:
To my soul is my longing but hateful,
For my body doth strive with me still.

Eocho Fedlech,[FN#9] his bride to him taking,
Made thee queen; and from thence is my woe:
For my head and my body are aching,
And all Ireland my weakness must know.


Etain

If, among the white women who near me abide,
There is one who is vexing, whose love thou dost hide;
To thy side will I bring her, if thus I may please;
And in love thou shalt win her, thy sickness to ease.


Ah lady! said Ailill, "easily could the cure of my sickness be wrought
by the aid of thee, and great gain should there come from the deed, but
thus it is with me until that be accomplished:


Long ago did my passion begin,
A full year it exceeds in its length;
And it holds me, more near than my skin,
And it rules over wrath in its strength.

And the earth into four it can shake,
Can reach up to the heights of the sky
And a neck with its might it can break,
Nor from fight with a spectre would fly.

In vain race up to heaven 'tis urged;
It is chilled, as with water, and drowned:
'Tis a weapon, in ocean submerged;
'Tis desire for an echo, a sound.

'Tis thus my love, my passion seem; 'tis thus I strive in vain
To win the heart of her whose love I long so much to gain.


[FN#9]  Pronounced Yeo-ho Fayllya, see note, p. 166.


And the lady stood there in that place, and she looked upon Ailill, and
the sickness in which he lay was perceived by her; and she was grieved
on account of it: so that upon a certain day came the lady to Ailill,
and "Young man," she said, "arouse thyself quickly, for in very truth
thou shalt have all that thou desirest; and thereon did she make this
lay:


Now arouse thyself, Ailill the royal:
Let thy heart, and thy courage rise high;
Every longing thou hast shall be sated,
For before thee, to heal thee, am I.

Is my neck and its beauty so pleasing?
'Tis around it thine arms thou shalt place;
And 'tis known as a courtship's beginning
When a man and a woman embrace.

And if this cometh not to content thee,
O thou man, that art son to a king!
I will dare to do crime for thy healing,
And my body to please thee will bring.

There were steeds, with their bridles, one hundred,
When the price for my wedding was told;
And one hundred of gay-coloured garments,
And of cattle, and ounces of gold.

Of each beast that men know, came one hundred;
And king Eocho to grant them was swift:
When a king gave such dowry to gain me,
Is't not wondrous to win me, as gift?


Now each day the lady came to Ailill to tend him, and to divide for him
the portion of food that was allotted to him; and she wrought a great
healing upon him: for it grieved her that he should perish for her
sake.  And one day the lady spoke to Ailill: "Come thou to-morrow,"
said she, "to tryst with me at the break of day, in the house which
lieth outside, and is beyond the fort, and there shalt thou have
granted thy request and thy desire."  On that night Ailill lay without
sleep until the coming of the morning; and when the time had come that
was appointed for his tryst, his sleep lay heavily upon him; so that
till the hour of his rising he lay deep in his sleep.  And Etain went
to the tryst, nor had she long to wait ere she saw a man coming towards
her in the likeness of Ailill, weary and feeble; but she knew that he
was not Ailill, and she continued there waiting for Ailill.  And the
lady came back from her tryst, and Ailill awoke, and thought that he
would rather die than live; and he went in great sadness and grief.
And the lady came to speak with him, and when he told her what had
befallen him: "Thou shalt come," said she, "to the same place, to meet
with me upon the morrow."  And upon the morrow it was the same as upon
the first day; each day came that man to her tryst.  And she came again
upon the last day that was appointed for the tryst, and the same man
met her.  "'Tis not with thee that I trysted," said she, "why dost thou
come to meet me? and for him whom I would have met here; neither from
desire of his love nor for fear of danger from him had I appointed to
meet him, but only to heal him, and to cure him from the sickness which
had come upon him for his love of me."  "It were more fitting for thee
to come to tryst with me," says the man, "for when thou wast Etain of
the Horses, and when thou wast the daughter of Ailill, I myself was thy
husband.  "Why," said she, "what name hast thou in the land? that is
what I would demand of thee."  "It is not hard to answer thee," he
said; "Mider of Bri Leith is my name."  "And what made thee to part
from me, if we were as thou sayest?" said Etain.  "Easy again is the
answer," said Mider; "it was the sorcery of Fuamnach and the spells of
Bressal Etarlam that put us apart."  And Mider said to Etain: "Wilt
thou come with me?"

"Nay," answered Etain, "I will not exchange the king of all Ireland for
thee; for a man whose kindred and whose lineage is unknown."  "It was I
myself indeed," said Mider, "who filled all the mind of Ailill with
love for thee: it was I also who prevented his coming to the tryst with
thee, and allowed him not thine honour to spoil it."

After all this the lady went back to her house, and she came to speech
with Ailill, and she greeted him.  "It hath happened well for us both,"
said Ailill, "that the man met thee there: for I am cured for ever from
my illness, thou also art unhurt in thine honour, and may a blessing
rest upon thee!"  "Thanks be to our gods," said Etain, "that both of us
do indeed deem that all this hath chanced so well."  And after that
Eochaid came back from his royal progress, and he asked at once for his
brother; and the tale was told to him from the beginning to the end,
and the king was grateful to Etain, in that she had been gracious to
Ailill; and, "What hath been related in this tale," said Eochaid, "is
well-pleasing to ourselves."

And, for the after history of Eochaid and Etain, it is told that once
when Eochaid was in Fremain, at such time as the people had prepared
for themselves a great gathering and certain horse-races; thither also
to that assembly came Etain, that she might see the sight.  Thither
also came Mider, and he searched through that assembly to find out
where Etain might be; and he found Etain, and her women around her, and
he bore her away with him, also one of her handmaidens, called Crochen
the Ruddy: hideous was the form in which Mider approached them.  And
the wives of the men of Ireland raised cries of woe, as the queen was
carried off from among them; and the horses of Ireland were loosed to
pursue Mider, for they knew not whether it was into the air or into the
earth he had gone.  But, as for Mider, the course that he had taken was
the road to the west, even to the plain of Croghan; and as he came
thither, "How shall it profit us," said Crochen the Ruddy, "this
journey of ours to this plain?"  "For evermore," said Mider, "shall thy
name be over all this plain:" and hence cometh the name of the plain of
Croghan, and of the Fort of Croghan.  Then Mider came to the Fairy
Mound of Croghan; for the dwellers in that mound were allied to him,
and his friends; and for nine days they lingered there, banqueting and
feasting; so that "Is this the place where thou makest thy home?" said
Crochen to Mider.  "Eastwards from this is my dwelling," Mider answered
her; "nearer to the rising-place of the sun;" and Mider, taking Etain
with him, departed, and came to Bri Leith, where the son of Celthar had
his palace.

Now just at the time when they came to this palace, king Eochaid sent
out from him the horsemen of Ireland, also his wizards, and his
officers who had the care of the roads, and the couriers of the
boundaries, that they might search through Ireland, and find out where
his wife might be; and Eochaid himself wandered throughout Ireland to
seek for his wife; and for a year from that day until the same day upon
the year that followed he searched, and he found nothing to profit him.

Then, at the last, king Eochaid sent for his Druid, and he set to him
the task to seek for Etain; now the name of the Druid was Dalan.  And
Dalan came before him upon that day; and he went westwards, until he
came to the mountain that was after that known as Slieve Dalan; and he
remained there upon that night.  And the Druid deemed it a grievous
thing that Etain should be hidden from him for the space of one year,
and thereupon he made three wands of yew; and upon the wands he wrote
an ogham; and by the keys of wisdom that he had, and by the ogham, it
was revealed to him that Etain was in the fairy mound of Bri Leith, and
that Mider had borne her thither.

Then Dalan the Druid turned him, and went back to the east; and he came
to the stronghold of Fremain, even to the place where the king of
Ireland was; and Eochaid asked from the Druid his news.  Thither also
came the horsemen, and the wizards, and the officers who had the care
of the roads, and the couriers of the boundaries, to the king of
Ireland, and he asked them what tidings they had, and whether they had
found news of Mider and Etain.  And they said that they had found
nothing at all; until at the last said his Druid to him: "A great evil
hath smitten thee, also shame, and misfortune, on account of the loss
of thy wife.  Do thou assemble the warriors of Ireland, and depart to
Bri Leith, where is the palace of the son of Celthar; let that palace
be destroyed by thy hand, and there thou shalt find thy wife: by
persuasion or by force do thou take her thence."

Then Eochaid and the men of Ireland marched to Bri Leith, and they set
themselves to destroy that fairy dwelling, and to demand that Etain be
brought to them, and they brought her not.  Then they ruined that fairy
dwelling, and they brought Etain out from it; and she returned to
Fremain, and there she had all the worship that a king of Ireland can
bestow, fair wedded love and affection, such as was her due from
Eochaid Airemm.  This is that Eochaid who ruled over Ireland for twelve
years, until the fire burned him in Fremain; and this tale is known by
the name of the "Sick-bed of Ailill," also as "The Courtship of Etain."
 Etain bore no children to Eochaid Airemm, save one daughter only; and
the name of her mother was given to her, and she is known by the name
of Etain, the daughter of Eochaid Airemm.  And it was her daughter
Messbuachalla who was the mother of king Conary the Great, the son of
Eterscel, and it was for this cause that the fairy host of Mag Breg and
Mider of Bri Leith violated the tabus of king Conary, and devastated
the plain of Breg, and out off Conary's life; on account of the capture
of that fairy dwelling, and on account of the recovery of Etain, when
she was carried away by violence, even by the might of Eochaid Airemm.




THE COURTSHIP OF ETAIN



LEABHAR NA H-UIDHRI VERSION


Eochaid Airemon took the sovereignty over Erin, and the five provinces
of Ireland were obedient to him, for the king of each province was his
vassal.  Now these were they who were the kings of the provinces at
that time, even Conor the son of Ness, and Messgegra, and Tigernach
Tetbannach, and Curoi, and Ailill the son of Mata of Muresc.  And the
royal forts that belonged to Eochaid were the stronghold of Fremain in
Meath, and the stronghold of Fremain in Tethba; moreover the stronghold
of Fremain in Tethba was more pleasing to him than any other of the
forts of Erin.

Now a year after that Eochaid had obtained the sovereignty, he sent out
his commands to the men of Ireland that they should come to Tara to
hold festival therein, in order that there should be adjusted the taxes
and the imposts that should be set upon them, so that these might be
settled for a period of five years.  And the one answer that the men of
Ireland made to Eochaid was that they would not make for the king that
assembly which is the Festival of Tara until he found for himself a
queen, for there was no queen to stand by the king's side when Eochaid
first assumed the kingdom.

Then Eochaid sent out the messengers of each of the five provinces to
go through the land of Ireland to seek for that woman or girl who was
the fairest to be found in Erin; and he bade them to note that no woman
should be to him as a wife, unless she had never before been as a wife
to any one of the men of the land.  And at the Bay of Cichmany a wife
was found for him, and her name was Etain, the daughter of Etar; and
Eochaid brought her thereafter to his palace, for she was a wife meet
for him, by reason of her form, and her beauty, and her descent, and
her brilliancy, and her youth, and her renown.

Now Finn the son of Findloga had three sons, all sons of a queen, even
Eochaid Fedlech, and Eochaid Airemm, and Ailill Anguba.  And Ailill
Anguba was seized with love for Etain at the Festival of Tara, after
that she had been wedded to Eochaid; since he for a long time gazed
upon her, and, since such gazing is a token of love, Ailill gave much
blame to himself for the deed that he was doing, yet it helped him not.
 For his longing was too strong for his endurance, and for this cause
he fell into a sickness; and, that there might be no stain upon his
honour, his sickness was concealed by him from all, neither did he
speak of it to the lady herself.  Then Fachtna, the chief physician of
Eochaid, was brought to look upon Ailill, when it was understood that
his death might be near, and thus the physician spoke to him: "One of
the two pangs that slay a man, and for which there is no healing by
leechcraft, is upon thee; either the pangs of envy or the pangs of
love.  And Ailill refused to confess the cause of his illness to the
physician, for he was withheld by shame and he was left behind in
Fremain of Tethba to die; and Eochaid went upon his royal progress
throughout all Erin, and he left Etain behind him to be near Ailill, in
order that the last rites of Ailill might be done by her; that she
might cause his grave to be dug, and that the keen might be raised for
him, and that his cattle should be slain for him as victims.  And to
the house where Ailill lay in his sickness went Etain each day to
converse with him, and his sickness was eased by her presence; and, so
long as Etain was in that place where he was, so long was he accustomed
to gaze at her.

Now Etain observed all this, and she bent her mind to discover the
cause, and one day when they were in the house together, Etain asked of
Ailill what was the cause of his sickness.  "My sickness," said Ailill,
"comes from my love for thee."  "'Tis pity," said she, "that thou hast
so long kept silence, for thou couldest have been healed long since,
had we but known of its cause."  "And even now could I be healed," said
Ailill, "did I but find favour in thy sight."  "Thou shalt find
favour," she said.  Each day after they had spoken thus with each
other, she came to him for the fomenting of his head, and for the
giving of the portion of food that was required by him, and for the
pouring of water over his hands; and three weeks after that, Ailill was
whole.  Then he said to Etain: "Yet is the completion of my cure at thy
hands lacking to me; when may it be that I shall have it?"  "'Tis
to-morrow it shall be," she answered him, "but it shall not be in the
abode of the lawful monarch of the land that this felony shall be done.
 Thou shalt come," she said, "on the morrow to yonder hill that riseth
beyond the fort: there shall be the tryst that thou desirest."

Now Ailill lay awake all that night, and he fell into a sleep at the
hour when he should have kept his tryst, and he woke not from his sleep
until the third hour of the day.  And Etain went to her tryst, and she
saw a man before her; like was his form to the form of Ailill, he
lamented the weakness that his sickness had caused him, and he gave to
her such answers as it was fitting that Ailill should give.  But at the
third hour of the day, Ailill himself awoke: and he had for a long time
remained in sorrow when Etain came into the house where he was; and as
she approached him, "What maketh thee so sorrowful?" said Etain.  "'Tis
because thou wert sent to tryst with me," said Ailill, "and I came not
to thy presence, and sleep fell upon me, so that I have but now
awakened from it; and surely my chance of being healed hath now gone
from me."  "Not so, indeed," answered Etain, "for there is a morrow to
follow to-day."  And upon that night he took his watch with a great
fire before him, and with water beside him to put upon his eyes.

At the hour that was appointed for the tryst, Etain came for her
meeting with Ailill; and she saw the same man, like unto Ailill, whom
she had seen before; and Etain went to the house, and saw Ailill still
lamenting.  And Etain came three times, and yet Ailill kept not his
tryst, and she found that same man there every time.  "'Tis not for
thee," she said, "that I came to this tryst: why comest thou to meet
me?  And as for him whom I would have met, it was for no sin or evil
desire that I came to meet him; but it was fitting for the wife of the
king of Ireland to rescue the man from the sickness under which he hath
so long been oppressed."  "It were more fitting for thee to tryst with
me myself," said the man, "for when thou wert Etain of the Horses, the
daughter of Ailill, it was I who was thy husband.  And when thou camest
to be wife to me, thou didst leave a great price behind thee; even a
marriage price of the chief plains and waters of Ireland, and as much
of gold and of silver as might match thee in value."  "Why," said she,
"what is thy name?"  "'Tis easy to say," he answered; "Mider of Bri
Leith is my name."  "Truly," said she; "and what was the cause that
parted us?"  "That also is easy," he said; "it was the sorcery of
Fuamnach, and the spells of Bressal Etarlam.  And then Mider said to
Etain:


Wilt thou come to my home, fair-haired lady? to dwell
In the marvellous land of the musical spell,
Where the crowns of all heads are, as primroses, bright,
And from head to the heel all men's bodies snow-white.

In that land of no "mine" nor of "thine" is there speech,
But there teeth flashing white and dark eyebrows hath each;
In all eyes shine our hosts, as reflected they swarm,
And each cheek with the pink of the foxglove is warm.

With the heather's rich tint every blushing neck glows,
In our eyes are all shapes that the blackbird's egg shows;
And the plains of thine Erin, though pleasing to see,
When the Great Plain is sighted, as deserts shall be.

Though ye think the ale strong in this Island of Fate,
Yet they drink it more strong in the Land of the Great;
Of a country where marvel abounds have I told,
Where no young man in rashness thrusts backward the old.

There are streams smooth and luscious that flow through that land,
And of mead and of wine is the best at each hand;
And of crime there is naught the whole country within,
There are men without blemish, and love without sin.

Through the world of mankind, seeing all, can we float,
And yet none, though we see them, their see-ers can note;
For the sin of their sire is a mist on them flung,
None may count up our host who from Adam is sprung.

Lady, come to that folk; to that strong folk of mine;
And with gold on thy head thy fair tresses shall shine:
'Tis on pork the most dainty that then thou shalt feed,
And for drink have thy choice of new milk and of mead.

"I will not come with thee," answered Etain, "I will not give up the
king of Ireland for thee, a man who knows not his own clan nor his
kindred."  "It was indeed myself," said Mider, "who long ago put
beneath the mind of Ailill the love that he hath felt for thee, so that
his blood ceased to run, and his flesh fell away from him: it was I
also who have taken away his desire, so that there might be no hurt to
thine honour.  But wilt thou come with me to my land," said Mider, "in
case Eochaid should ask it of thee?"  "I would come in such case,"
answered to him Etain.

After all this Etain departed to the house.  "It hath indeed been good,
this our tryst," said Ailill, "for I have been cured of my sickness;
moreover, in no way has thine honour been stained."  "'Tis glorious
that it hath fallen out so," answered Etain.  And afterwards Eochaid
came back from his royal progress, and he was grateful for that his
brother's life had been preserved, and he gave all thanks to Etain for
the great deed she had done while he was away from his palace.

Now upon another time it chanced that Eochaid Airemm, the king of Tara,
arose upon a certain fair day in the time of summer; and he ascended
the high ground of Tara to behold the plain of Breg; beautiful was the
colour of that plain, and there was upon it excellent blossom, glowing
with all hues that are known.  And, as the aforesaid Eochaid looked
about and around him, he saw a young strange warrior upon the high
ground at his side.  The tunic that the warrior wore was purple in
colour, his hair was of a golden yellow, and of such length that it
reached to the edge of his shoulders.  The eyes of the young warrior
were lustrous and grey; in the one hand he held a five-pointed spear,
in the other a shield with a white central boss, and with gems of gold
upon it.  And Eochaid held his peace, for he knew that none such had
been in Tara on the night before, and the gate that led into the Liss
had not at that hour been thrown open.

The warrior came, and placed himself under the protection of Eochaid;
and "Welcome do I give," said Eochaid, "to the hero who is yet unknown."

"Thy reception is such as I expected when I came," said the warrior.

"We know thee not," answered Eochaid.

"Yet thee in truth I know well!" he replied.

"What is the name by which thou art called?" said Eochaid.

"My name is not known to renown," said the warrior; "I am Mider of Bri
Leith."

"And for what purpose art thou come?" said Eochaid.

"I have come that I may play a game at the chess with thee," answered
Mider.  "Truly," said Eochaid, "I myself am skilful at the chess-play."

"Let us test that skill! said Mider.

"Nay," said Eochaid, the queen is even now in her sleep; and hers is
the palace in which the chessboard lies."

"I have here with me," said Mider, "a chessboard which is not inferior
to thine."  It was even as he said, for that chessboard was silver, and
the men to play with were gold; and upon that board were costly stones,
casting their light on every side, and the bag that held the men was of
woven chains of brass.

Mider then set out the chessboard, and he called upon Eochaid to play.
"I will not play," said Eochaid, "unless we play for a stake."

"What stake shall we have upon the game then?" said Mider.

"It is indifferent to me," said Eochaid.

"Then," said Mider, "if thou dost obtain the forfeit of my stake, I
will bestow on thee fifty steeds of a dark grey, their heads of a
blood-red colour, but dappled; their ears pricked high, and their
chests broad; their nostrils wide, and their hoofs slender; great is
their strength, and they are keen like a whetted edge; eager are they,
high-standing, and spirited, yet easily stopped in their course."

[Many games were played between Eochaid and Mider; and, since Mider did
not put forth his whole strength, the victory on all occasions rested
with Eochaid.  But instead of the gifts which Mider had offered,
Eochaid demanded that Mider and his folk should perform for him
services which should be of benefit to his realm; that he should clear
away the rocks and stones from the plains of Meath, should remove the
rushes which made the land barren around his favourite fort of Tethba,
should cut down the forest of Breg, and finally should build a causeway
across the moor or bog of Lamrach that men might pass freely across it.
 All these things Mider agreed to do, and Eochaid sent his steward to
see how that work was done.  And when it came to the time after sunset,
the steward looked, and he saw that Mider and his fairy host, together
with fairy oxen, were labouring at the causeway over the bog;] and
thereupon much of earth and of gravel and of stones was poured into it.
 Now it had, before that time, always been the custom of the men of
Ireland to harness their oxen with a strap over their foreheads, so
that the pull might be against the foreheads of the oxen; and this
custom lasted up to that very night, when it was seen that the
fairy-folk had placed the yoke upon the shoulders of the oxen, so that
the pull might be there; and in this way were the yokes of the oxen
afterwards placed by Eochaid, and thence cometh the name by which he is
known; even Eochaid Airemm, or Eochaid the Ploughman, for he was the
first of all the men of Ireland to put the yokes on the necks of the
oxen, and thus it became the custom for all the land of Ireland.  And
this is the song that the host of the fairies sang, as they laboured at
the making of the road:


Thrust it in hand! force it in hand!
Nobles this night, as an ox-troop, stand:
Hard is the task that is asked, and who
From the bridging of Lamrach shall gain, or rue?


Not in all the world could a road have been found that should be better
than the road that they made, had it not been that the fairy folk were
observed as they worked upon it; but for that cause a breach hath been
made in that causeway.  And the steward of Eochaid thereafter came to
him; and he described to him that great labouring band that had come
before his eyes, and he said that there was not over the chariot-pole
of life a power that could withstand its might.  And, as they spake
thus with each other, they saw Mider standing before them; high was he
girt, and ill-favoured was the face that he showed; and Eochaid arose,
and he gave welcome to him.  "Thy welcome is such as I expected when I
came," said Mider.  "Cruel and senseless hast thou been in thy
treatment of me, and much of hardship and suffering hast thou given me.
 All things that seemed good in thy sight have I got for thee, but now
anger against thee hath filled my mind!"  "I return not anger for
anger," answered Eochaid; "what thou wishest shall be done."  "Let it
be as thou wishest," said Mider; "shall we play at the chess?" said he.
"What stake shall we set upon the game?" said Eochaid.  "Even such
stake as the winner of it shall demand," said Mider. And in that very
place Eochaid was defeated, and he forfeited his stake.

"My stake is forfeit to thee," said Eochaid.

"Had I wished it, it had been forfeit long ago," said Mider.

"What is it that thou desirest me to grant?" said Eochaid.

"That I may hold Etain in my arms, and obtain a kiss from her!"
answered Mider.

Eochaid was silent for a while and then he said: "One month from this
day thou shalt come, and the very thing that thou hast asked for shall
be given to thee."  Now for a year before that Mider first came to
Eochaid for the chess-play, had he been at the wooing of Etain, and he
obtained her not; and the name which he gave to Etain was Befind, or
Fair-haired Woman, so it was that he said:


Wilt thou come to my home, fair-haired lady?


as has before been recited.  And it was at that time that Etain said:
"If thou obtainest me from him who is the master of my house, I will
go; but if thou art not able to obtain me from him, then I will not
go."  And thereon Mider came to Eochaid, and allowed him at the first
to win the victory over him, in order that Eochaid should stand in his
debt; and therefore it was that he paid the great stakes to which he
had agreed; and therefore also was it that he had demanded of him that
he should play that game in ignorance of what was staked.  And when
Mider and his folk were paying those agreed-on stakes, which were paid
upon that night; to wit, the making of the road, and the clearing of
the stones from Meath, the rushes from around Tethba, and of the forest
that is over Breg, it was thus that he spoke, as it is written in the
Book of Drom Snechta:


Pile on the soil; thrust on the soil:
Red are the oxen around who toil:
Heavy the troops that my words obey;
Heavy they seem, and yet men are they.
Strongly, as piles, are the tree-trunks placed
Red are the wattles above them laced:
Tired are your hands, and your glances slant;
One woman's winning this toil may grant!
Oxen ye are, but revenge shall see;
Men who are white shall your servants be:
Rushes from Teffa are cleared away:
Grief is the price that the man shall pay:
Stones have been cleared from the rough Meath ground;
Whose shall the gain or the harm be found?


Now Mider appointed a day at the end of the month when he was to meet
Eochaid, and Eochaid called the armies of the heroes of Ireland
together, so that they came to Tara; and all the best of the champions
of Ireland, ring within ring, were about Tara, and they were in the
midst of Tara itself, and they guarded it, both without and within; and
the king and the queen were in the midst of the palace, and the outer
court thereof was shut and locked, for they knew that the great might
of men would come upon them.  And upon the appointed night Etain was
dispensing the banquet to the kings, for it was her duty to pour out
the wine, when in the midst of their talk they saw Mider standing
before them in the centre of the palace.  He was always fair, yet
fairer than he ever was seemed Mider to be upon that night.  And he
brought to amazement all the hosts on which he gazed, and all thereon
were silent, and the king gave a welcome to him.

"Thy reception is such as I expected when I came," said Mider; "let
that now be given to me that hath been promised.  'Tis a debt that is
due when a promise hath been made; and I for my part have given to thee
all that was promised by me."

"I have not yet considered the matter," said Eochaid.

"Thou hast promised Etain's very self to me," said Mider; "that is what
hath come from thee." Etain blushed for shame when she heard that word.

"Blush not," said Mider to Etain, "for in nowise hath thy wedding-feast
been disgraced.  I have been seeking thee for a year with the fairest
jewels and treasures that can be found in Ireland, and I have not taken
thee until the time came when Eochaid might permit it.  'Tis not
through any will of thine that I have won thee."  "I myself told thee,"
said Etain, "that until Eochaid should resign me to thee I would grant
thee nothing.  Take me then for my part, if Eochaid is willing to
resign me to thee."

"But I will not resign thee!" said Eochaid; "nevertheless he shall take
thee in his arms upon the floor of this house as thou art."

"It shall be done!" said Mider.

He took his weapons into his left hand and the woman beneath his right
shoulder; and he carried her off through the skylight of the house.
And the hosts rose up around the king, for they felt that they had been
disgraced, and they saw two swans circling round Tara, and the way that
they took was the way to the elf-mound of Femun.  And Eochaid with an
army of the men of Ireland went to the elf-mound of Femun, which men
call the mound of the Fair-haired-Women.  And he followed the counsel
of the men of Ireland, and he dug up each of the elf-mounds that he
might take his wife from thence.  [And Mider and his host opposed them
and the war between them was long: again and again the trenches made by
Eochaid were destroyed, for nine years as some say lasted the strife of
the men of Ireland to enter into the fairy palace.  And when at last
the armies of Eochaid came by digging to the borders of the fairy
mansion, Mider sent to the side of the palace sixty women all in the
shape of Etain, and so like to her that none could tell which was the
queen.  And Eochaid himself was deceived, and he chose, instead of
Etain, her daughter Messbuachalla (or as some say Esa.)  But when he
found that he had been deceived, he returned again to sack Bri Leith,
and this time Etain made herself known to Eochaid, by proofs that he
could not mistake, and he bore her away in triumph to Tara, and there
she abode with the king.]




MAC DATHO'S BOAR



INTRODUCTION


The tale of "Mac Datho's Boar" seems to deal with events that precede
the principal events of the Heroic Period; most of the characters named
in it appear as the chief actors in other romances; Conor and Ailill
are as usual the leaders of Ulster and Connaught, but the king of
Leinster is Mesroda Mac Datho, not his brother Mesgegra, who appears in
the "Siege of Howth" (see Hull, Cuchullin Saga, p. 87), and the Ulster
champion is not Cuchulain, but his elder comrade, Conall Cernach.

The text followed is that of the Book of Leinster as printed by
Windisch in Irische Texte, vol. i.; the later Harleian manuscript's
readings given by Windisch have been taken in a few cases where the
Leinster text seems untranslatable.  There is a slightly different
version, given by Kuno Meyer in the Anecdota Oxoniensia, taken from
Rawlinson, B. 512, a fifteenth-century manuscript, but the text is
substantially that of the Leinster version, and does not give, as in
the case of the tale of Etain, a different view of the story.  The
verse passages differ in the two versions; two verse passages on pages
37 and 46 have been inserted from the Rawlinson manuscript, otherwise
the rendering follows the Leinster text.

The style of the tale is more barbaric than that of the other romances,
but is relieved by touches of humour; the only supernatural touch
occurs in one of the variations of the Rawlinson manuscript.  Some of
the chief variations en in this manuscript are pointed out in the
notes; the respectful men on of Curoi mac Dari, who seems to have been
a Munster hero, overshadowed in the accepted versions by the superior
glory of Ulster, may be noted; also the remark that Ferloga did not get
his cepoc, which seems to have been inserted by a later band of a
critic who disapproved of the frivolity of the original author, or was
jealous for the honour of the Ulster ladies.




MAC DATHO'S BOAR



FROM THE BOOK OF LEINSTER (TWELFTH-CENTURY MS.)


With some Additions from Rawlinson, B. 512, written about 1560


A glorious king once hold rule over the men of Leinster; his name was
Mesroda Mac Datho.  Now Mac Datho had among his possessions a hound
which was the guardian of all Leinster; the name of the hound was
Ailbe, and all of the land of Leinster was filled with reports of the
fame of it, and of that hound hath it been sung:


Mesroda, son of Datho,
Was he the boar who reared;
And his the hound called Ailbe;
No lie the tale appeared!
The splendid hound of wisdom,
The hound that far is famed,
The hound from whom Moynalvy
For evermore is named.


By King Ailill and Queen Maev were sent folk to the son of Datho to
demand that hound, and at that very hour came heralds from Conor the
son of Ness to demand him; and to all of these a welcome was bid by the
people of Mac Datho, and they were brought to speak with Mac Datho in
his palace.

At the time that we speak of, this palace was a hostelry that was the
sixth of the hostelries of Ireland.; there were beside it the hostelry
of Da Derga in the land of Cualan in Leinster; also the hostelry of
Forgall the Wily, which is beside Lusk; and the hostelry of Da Reo in
Breffny; and the hostelry of Da Choca in the west of Meath; and the
hostelry of the landholder Blai in the country of the men of Ulster.
There were seven doors to that palace, and seven passages ran through
it; also there stood within it seven cauldrons, and in every one of the
cauldrons was seething the flesh of oxen and the salted flesh of swine.
 Every traveller who came into the house after a journey would thrust a
fork into a cauldron, and whatsoever he brought out at the first
thrust, that had he to eat: if he got nothing at the first thrust, no
second attempt was allowed him.

They brought the heralds before Mac Datho as he sat upon his throne,
that he might learn of their requests before they made their meal, and
in this manner they made known their message.  "We have come," said the
men who were sent from Connaught, "that we might ask for thy hound;
'tis by Ailill and Maev we are sent.  Thou shalt have in payment for
him six thousand milch cows, also a two-horsed chariot with its horses,
the best to be had in Connaught, and at the end of a year as much again
shall be thine."  "We also," said the heralds from Ulster, "have come
to ask for thy hound; we have been sent by Conor, and Conor is a friend
who is of no less value than these.  He also will give to thee
treasures and cattle, and the same amount at the end of a year, and he
will be a stout friend to thee."

Now after he had received this message Mac Datho sank into a deep
silence, he ate nothing, neither did he sleep, but tossed about from
one side to another, and then said his wife to him:
"For a long time hast thou fasted; food is before thee, yet thou eatest
not; what is it that ails thee? and Mac Datho made her no answer,
whereupon she said:


The Wife[FN#10]

Gone is King Mac Datho's sleep,
Restless cares his home invade;
Though his thoughts from all he keep,
Problems deep his mind hath weighed.

He, my sight avoiding, turns
Towards the wall, that hero grim;
Well his prudent wife discerns
Sleep hath passed away from him.


[FN#10]  The Irish metre is followed in the first four verses.


Mac Datho

Crimthann saith, Nar's sister's son,
"Secrets none to women tell.
Woman's secret soon is won;
Never thrall kept jewel well."


The Wife

Why against a woman speak
Till ye test, and find she fails?
When thy mind to plan is weak,
Oft another's wit avails.


Mac Datho

At ill season indeed came those heralds
Who his hound from Mac Datho would take;
In more wars than by thought can be counted
Fair-haired champions shall fall for its sake.

If to Conor I dare to deny him,
He shall deem it the deed of a churl
Nor shall cattle or country be left me
By the hosts he against me can hurl.

If refusal to Ailill I venture,
With all Ireland my folk shall he sack;
From our kingdom Mac Mata shall drive us,
And our ashes may tell of his track.


The Wife

Here a counsel I find to deliver,
And in woe shall our land have no share;
Of that hound to them both be thou giver,
And who dies for it little we care.


Mac Datho

Ah! the grief that I had is all ended,
I have joy for this speech from thy tongue
Surely Ailbe from heaven descended,
There is none who can say whence he sprung.

After these words the son of Datho rose up, and he shook himself, and
May this fall out well for us," said he, "and well for our guests who
come here to seek for him."  His guests abode three days and three
nights in his house, and when that time was ended, he bade that the
heralds from Connaught be called to confer with him apart, and he spoke
thus: "I have been," he said, "in great vexation of spirit, and for
long have I hesitated before I made a decision what to do.  But now
have I decided to give the hound to Ailill and Maev, let them come with
splendour to bear it away.  They shall have plenty both to eat and to
drink, and they shall have the hound to hold, and welcome shall they
be."  And the messengers from Connaught were well pleased with this
answer that they had.

Then he went to where the heralds from Ulster were, and thus he
addressed them: "After long hesitation," said he, "I have awarded the
hound to Conor, and a proud man should he be.  Let the armies of the
nobles of Ulster come to bear him away; they shall have presents, and I
will make them welcome;" and with this the messengers from Ulster were
content.

Now Mac Datho had so planned it that both those armies, that from the
East and that from the West, should arrive at his palace upon the
selfsame day.  Nor did they fail to keep their tryst; upon the same day
those two provinces of Ireland came to Mac Datho's palace, and Mac
Datho himself went outside and greeted them: "For two armies at the
same time we were not prepared; yet I bid welcome to you, ye men.
Enter into the court of the house."

Then they went all of them into the palace; one half of the house
received the Ulstermen, and the other half received the men of
Connaught.  For the house was no small one: it had seven doors and
fifty couches between each two doors; and it was no meeting of friends
that was then seen in that house, but the hosts that filled it were
enemies to each other, for during the whole time of the three hundred
years that preceded the birth of Christ there was war between Ulster
and Connaught.

Then they slaughtered for them Mac Datho's Boar; for seven years had
that boar been nurtured upon the milk of fifty cows, but surely venom
must have entered into its nourishment, so many of the men of Ireland
did it cause to die.  They brought in the boar, and forty oxen as
side-dishes to it, besides other kind of food; the son of Datho himself
was steward to their feast: "Be ye welcome!" said he; "this beast
before you hath not its match; and a goodly store of beeves and of
swine may be found with the men of Leinster!  And, if there be aught
lacking to you, more shall be slain for you in the morning."

"It is a mighty Boar," said Conor.

"'Tis a mighty one indeed," said Ailill. "How shall it be divided, O
Conor?" said he.

"How?" cried down Bricriu,[FN#11] the son of Carbad, from above; "in
the place where the warriors of Ireland are gathered together, there
can be but the one test for the division of it, even the part that each
man hath taken in warlike deeds and strife: surely each man of you hath
struck the other a buffet on the nose ere now!"

"Thus then shall it be," said Ailill.

"'Tis a fair test," said Conor in assent; "we have here a plenty of
lads in this house who have done battle on the borders."

"Thou shalt lose thy lads to-night, Conor," said Senlaech the
charioteer, who came from rushy Conalad in the West; "often have they
left a fat steer for me to harry, as they sprawled on their backs upon
the road that leadeth to the rushes of Dedah."

"Fatter was the steer that thou hadst to leave to us," said
Munremur,[FN#12] the son of Gerrcind; "even thine own brother,
Cruachniu, son of Ruadlam; and it was from Conalad of Cruachan that he
came."

"He was no better," cried Lugaid the son of Curoi of Munster, "than
Loth the Great, the son of Fergus Mac Lete; and Echbel the son of Dedad
left him lying in Tara Luachra."[FN#13]


[FN#11]  Pronounced Brik-roo.

[FN#12]  Pronounced Moon-raymer.

[FN#13]  Pronounced Looch-ra.


"What sort of a man was he whom ye boast of?" cried Celtchar of Ulster.
 "I myself slew that horny-skinned son of Dedad, I cut the head from
his shoulders."

At the last it fell out that one man raised himself above all the men
of Ireland; he was Ket, the son of Mata, he came from the land of
Connaught.  He hung up his weapons at a greater height than the weapons
of any one else who was there, he took a knife in his hand, and he
placed himself at the side of the Boar.

"Find ye now," said he, "one man among the men of Ireland who can equal
my renown, or else leave the division of the Boar to me."

All of the Ulstermen were thrown into amazement.  "Seest thou that, O
Laegaire?"[FN#14] said Conor.


[FN#14]  Pronounced Leary.


"Never shall it be," said Laegaire the Triumphant, "that Ket should
have the division of this Boar in the face of us all."

"Softly now, O Laegaire!" said Ket; "let me hold speech with thee.
With you men of Ulster it hath for long been a custom that each lad
among you who takes the arms of a warrior should play first with us the
game of war: thou, O Laegaire, like to the others didst come to the
border, and we rode against one another.  And thou didst leave thy
charioteer, and thy chariot and thy horses behind thee, and thou didst
fly pierced through with a spear.  Not with such a record as that shalt
thou obtain the Boar;" and Laegaire sat himself down.

"It shall never come to pass," said a great fair-haired warrior,
stepping forward from the bench whereon he had sat, "that the division
of the Boar shall be left to Ket before our very eyes."

"To whom then appertains it?" asked Ket.

"To one who is a better warrior than thou," he said, "even to Angus,
the son of Lama Gabaid (Hand-in-danger) of the men of Ulster."

"Why namest thou thy father 'Hand-in-danger?" said Ket.

"Why indeed, I know not," he said.

"Ah! but I know it!" said Ket.  "Long ago I went upon a journey in the
east, a war-cry was raised against me, all men attacked me, and Lama
Gabaid was among them.  He made a cast of a great spear against me, I
hurled the same spear back upon him, and the spear cut his hand from
him so that it lay upon the ground.  How dares the son of that man to
measure his renown with mine?" and Angus went back to his place.

"Come, and claim a renown to match mine," said Ket; "else let me divide
this Boar."

"It shall never be thy part to be the first to divide it," said a great
fair-haired warrior of the men of Ulster.

"Who then is this?" said Ket.

"'Tis Eogan, son of Durthacht,"[FN#15] said they all; "Eogan, the lord
of Fernmay."

"I have seen him upon an earlier day," said Ket.

"Where hast thou seen me?" said Eogan.

"It was before thine own house," said Ket.  "As I was driving away thy
cattle, a cry of war was raised in the lands about me; and thou didst
come out at that cry.  Thou didst hurl thy spear against me, and it was
fixed in my shield; but I hurled the same spear back against thee, and
it tore out one of thy two eyes.  All the men of Ireland can see that
thou art one-eyed; here is the man that struck thine other eye out of
thy head," and he also sat down.

"Make ye ready again for the strife for renown, O ye men of Ulster!"
cried Ket.  "Thou hast not yet gained the right to divide the Boar,"
said Munremur, Gerrcind's son.

"Is that Munremur?" cried Ket; "I have but one short word for thee, O
Munremur!  Not yet hath the third day passed since I smote the heads
off three warriors who came from your lands, and the midmost of the
three was the head of thy firstborn son!" and Munremur also sat down.

"Come to the strife for renown!" cried Ket.

"That strife will I give to thee," said Mend the son of Salcholcam (the
Sword-heeled).

"Who is this?" asked Ket.

"'Tis Mend," said all who were there.

"Hey there!" cried Ket. "The son of the man with the nickname comes to
measure his renown with mine!  Why, Mend, it was by me that the
nickname of thy father came; 'twas I who cut the heel from him with my
sword so that he hopped away from me upon one leg! How shall the son of
that one-legged man measure his renown with mine?" and he also sat down.


[FN#15]  Pronounced Yeogan, son of Doorha.


"Come to the strife for renown!" cried Ket.

"That warfare shalt thou have from me!" said an Ulster warrior, tall,
grey, and more terrible than the rest.

"Who is this?" asked Ket.

"'Tis Celtchar, the son of Uitechar," cried all.

"Pause thou a little, Celtchar," said Ket, "unless it be in thy mind to
crush me in an instant.  Once did I come to thy dwelling, O Celtchar, a
cry was raised about me, and all men hurried up at that cry, and thou
also camest beside them.  It was in a ravine that the combat between us
was held; thou didst hurl thy spear against me, and against thee I also
hurled my spear; and my spear pierced thee through the leg and through
the groin, so that from that hour thou hast been diseased, nor hath son
or daughter been born to thee.  How canst thou strive in renown with
me?" and he also sat down.

"Come to the strife for renown!" cried Ket.

"That strife shalt thou have," said Cuscrid the Stammerer, of Macha,
king Conor's son.

"Who is this?" said Ket. "'Tis Cuscrid," said all; "he hath a form
which is as the form of a king."

"Nor hath he aught to thank thee for," said the youth.

"Good!" said Ket.  "It was against me that thou didst come on the day
when thou didst first make trial of thy weapons, my lad: 'twas in the
borderland that we met.  And there thou didst leave the third part of
thy folk behind thee, and thou didst fly with a spear-thrust through
thy throat so that thou canst speak no word plainly, for the spear cut
in sunder the sinews of thy neck; and from that hour thou hast been
called Cuscrid the Stammerer."  And in this fashion did Ket put to
shame all the warriors of the province of Ulster.

But as he was exulting near to the Boar, with his knife in his hand,
all saw Conall, the Victorious enter the palace; and Conall sprang into
the midst of the house, and the men of Ulster hailed him with a shout;
and Conor himself took his helmet from his head, and swung it on high
to greet him.

"'Tis well that I wait for the portion that befalls me!" said Conall.
Who is he who is the divider of the Boar for ye?"

"That office must be given to the man who stands there," said Conor,
"even to Ket, the son of Mata."

"Is this true, O Ket?" said Conall.  "Art thou the man to allot this
Boar?"  And then sang Ket:


Conall, all hail!
Hard stony spleen
Wild glowing flame!
Ice-glitter keen!
Blood in thy breast
Rageth and boils;
Oft didst thou wrest
Victory's spoils:
Thou scarred son of Finuchoem,[FN#16] thou truly canst claim
To stand rival to me, and to match me in fame!


And Conall replied to him:

Hail to thee, Ket!
Well are we met!
Heart icy-cold,
Home for the bold!
Ender of grief!
Car-riding chief!
Sea's stormy wave!
Bull, fair and brave!
Ket! first of the children of Matach!
The proof shall be found when to combat we dart,
The proof shall be found when from combat we part;
He shall tell of that battle who guardeth the stirks,
He shall tell of that battle at handcraft who works;
And the heroes shall stride to the wild lion-fight,
For by men shall fall men in this palace to-night:
Welcome, Ket![FN#17]


[FN#16]  Pronounced Finn-hoom.

[FN#17]  The short lines of this rhetoric have the metre of the
original Irish.


"Rise thou, and depart from this Boar," said Conall.

"What claim wilt thou bring why I should do this?" said Ket.

"'Tis true indeed," said Conall, "thou art contending in renown with
me.  I will give thee one claim only, O Ket!  I swear by the oath of my
tribe that since the day that I first received a spear into my hand I
have seldom slept without the head of a slain man of Connaught as my
pillow; and I have not let pass a day or a night in which a man of
Connaught hath not fallen by my hand."

"'Tis true indeed," said Ket, "thou art a better warrior than I.  Were
but Anluan here, he could battle with thee in another fashion; shame
upon us that he is not in this house!"

"Aye, but Anluan is here! "cried Conall, and therewith he plucked
Anluan's head from his belt.  And he threw the head towards Ket, so
that it smote him upon the chest, and a gulp of the blood was dashed
over his lips.  And Ket came away from the Boar, and Conall placed
himself beside it.

"Now let men come to contend for renown with me!" cried Conall.  But
among the men of Connaught there was none who would challenge him, and
they raised a wall of shields, like a great vat around him, for in that
house was evil wrangling, and men in their malice would make cowardly
casts at him.  And Conall turned to divide the Boar, and he took the
end of the tail in his mouth.  And although the tail was so great that
it was a full load for nine men, yet he sucked it all into his mouth so
that nothing of it was left; and of this hath been said:


Strong hands on a cart thrust him forward;
His great tail, though for nine men a load,
Was devoured by the brave Conall Cernach,
As the joints he so gaily bestowed.


Now to the men of Connaught Conall gave nothing except the two
fore-legs of the Boar, and this share seemed to be but small to the men
of Connaught, and thereon they sprang up, and the men of Ulster also
sprang up, and they rushed at each other.  They buffeted each other so
that the heap of bodies inside the house rose as high as the side-walls
of it; and streams of blood flowed under the doors.

The hosts brake out through the doors into the outer court, and great
was the din that uprose; the blood upon the floor of the house might
have driven a mill, so mightily did each man strike out at his fellow.
And at that time Fergus plucked up by the roots a great oak-tree that
stood in the outer court in the midst of it; and they all burst out of
the court, and the battle went on outside.

Then came out Mac Datho, leading the hound by a leash in his hand, that
he might let him loose between the two armies, to see to which side the
sense of the hound would turn.  And the hound joined himself with the
men of Ulster, and he rushed on the defeated Connaughtmen, for these
were in flight.  And it is told that in the plain of Ailbe, the hound
seized hold of the poles of the chariot in which Ailill and Maev rode:
and there Fer-loga, charioteer to Ailill and Maev, fell upon him, so
that he cast his body to one side, and his head was left upon the poles
of the chariot.  And they say that it is for that reason that the plain
of Ailbe is so named, for from the hound Ailbe the name hath come.

The rout went on northwards, over Ballaghmoon, past Rurin Hill, over
the Midbine Ford near to Mullaghmast, over Drum Criach Ridge which is
opposite to what is Kildare to-day, over Rath Ingan which is in the
forest of Gabla, then by Mac Lugna's Ford over the ridge of the two
plains till they came to the Bridge of Carpre that is over the Boyne.
And at the ford which is known as the Ford of the Hound's Head, which
standeth in the west of Meath, the hound's head fell from the chariot.

And, as they went over the heather of Meath, Ferloga the charioteer of
Ailill fell into the heather, and he sprang behind Conor who followed
after them in his chariot, and he seized Conor by the head.

"I claim a boon from thee if I give thee thy life, O Conor!" said he.

"I choose freely to grant that boon," said Conor.

"'Tis no great matter," said Ferloga.  "Take me with thee to Emain
Macha, and at each ninth hour let the widows and the growing maidens of
Ulster serenade me[FN#18] with the song: 'Ferloga is my darling.'"


[FN#18]  Literally, "sing me a cepoc," or a choral song.


And the women were forced to do it; for they dared not to deny him,
fearing the wrath of Conor; and at the end of a year Ferloga crossed
byAthlone into Connaught, and he took with him two of Conor's horses
bridled with golden reins.

And concerning all this hath it been sung:

Hear truth, ye lads of Connaught;
No lies your griefs shall fill,
A youth the Boar divided;
The share you had was ill.

Of men thrice fifty fifties
Would win the Ailbe Hound;
In pride of war they struggled,
Small cause for strife they found.
Yet there came conquering Conor,
And Ailill's hosts, and Ket;
No law Cuchulain granted,
And brooding Bodb[FN#19] was met.

Dark Durthacht's son, great Eogan,
Shall find that journey hard;
From east came Congal Aidni,
And Fiaman,[FN#20] sailor bard;
Three sons of Nera, famous
For countless warlike fields;
Three lofty sons of Usnach,
With hard-set cruel shields.

From high Conalad Croghan
Wise Senlaech[FN#21] drave his car;
And Dubhtach[FN#22] came from Emain,
His fame is known afar;
And Illan came, whom glorious
For many a field they hail:
Loch Sail's grim chief, Munremur;
Berb Baither, smooth of tale;


[FN#19]  Pronounced Bobe, with sound of 'robe.'

[FN#20]  Pronounced Feeman.

[FN#21]  Pronounced Senlay, with the light final ch.

[FN#22]  Pronounced Doov-ta.


And Celtchar, lord in Ulster;
And Conall's valour wild;
And Marcan came; and Lugaid
Of three great hounds the child.

Fergus, awaiting the glorious hound,
Spreadeth a cloak o'er his mighty shield,
Shaketh an oak he hath plucked from ground,
Red was the woe the red cloak concealed.

Yonder stood Cethern,[FN#23] of Finntan son,
Holding them back; till six hours had flown
Connaughtmen's slaughter his hand hath done,
Pass of the ford he hath held alone.

Armies with Feidlim[FN#24] the war sustain,
Laegaire the Triumpher rides on east,
Aed, son of Morna, ye hear complain,
Little his thought is to mourn that beast.

High are the nobles, their deeds show might,
Housefellows fair, and yet hard in fight;
Champions of strength upon clans bring doom,
Great are the captives, and vast the tomb.


[FN#23]  Pronounced Kay-hern.

[FN#24]  Pronounced Fay-lim.




THE SICK-BED OF CUCHULAIN



INTRODUCTION


The romance called the "Sick-bed of Cuchulain," the latter part of
which is also known as the "Jealousy of Emer," is preserved in two
manuscripts, one of which is the eleventh-century Leabhar na h-Uidhri,
the other a fifteenth century manuscript in the Trinity College
Library.  These two manuscripts give substantially the same account,
and are obviously taken from the same source, but the later of the two
is not a copy of the older manuscript, and sometimes preserves a better
reading.
 The eleventh-century manuscript definitely gives a yet older book, the
Yellow Book of Slane, now lost, as its authority, and this may be the
ultimate authority for the tale as we have it.  But, although there is
only one original version of the text, it is quite plain from internal
evidence that the compiler of the Yellow Book of Slane, or of an
earlier book, had two quite different forms of the story to draw from,
and combined them in the version that we have.  The first, which may be
called the "Antiquarian" form, relates the cause of Cuchulain's
illness, tells in detail of the journey of his servant Laeg to
Fairyland, in order to test the truth of a message sent to Cuchulain
that he can be healed by fairy help, and then breaks off.  In both the
Leabhar na h-Uidhri and in the fifteenth-century manuscript, follows a
long passage which has absolutely nothing to do with the story,
consisting of an account how Lugaid Red-Stripes was elected to be king
over Ireland, and of the Bull Feast at which the coming of Lugaid is
prophesied.  Both manuscripts then give the counsel given by Cuchulain
to Lugaid on his election (this passage being the only justification
for the insertion, as Cuchulain is supposed to be on his sick-bed when
the exhortation is given); and both then continue the story in a quite
different form, which may be called the "Literary" form.  The cause of
the sickness is not given in the Literary form, which commences with
the rousing of Cuchulain from his sick-bed, this rousing being due to
different agency from that related in the Antiquarian form, for in the
latter Cuchulain is roused by a son of the fairy king, in the former b
his wife Emer.  The journey of Laeg to Fairyland is then told in the
literary form with different detail to that given in the Antiquarian
one, and the full conclusion is then supplied in this form alone; so
that we have, although in the same manuscript version, two quite
distinct forms of the original legend, the first defective at the end
of the story, the other at its beginning.

Not only are the incidents of the two forms of the story different in
many respects, but the styles are so absolutely different that it would
seem impossible to attribute them to the same author.  The first is a
mere compilation by an antiquarian; it is difficult to imagine that it
was ever recited in a royal court, although the author may have had
access to a better version than his own.  He inserts passages which do
not develop the interest of the story; hints at incidents (the
temporary absence of Fergus and Conall) which are not developed or
alluded to afterwards, and is a notable early example of the way in
which Irish literature can be spoiled by combining several different
independent stories into one.  There is only one gem, strictly so
called, and that not of a high order; the only poetic touches occur in
the rhetoric, and, although in this there is a weird supernatural
flavour, that may have marked the original used by the compiler of this
form ' the human interest seems to be exceptionally weak.

The second or Literary form is as different from the other as it is
possible for two compositions on the same theme to be.  The first few
words strike the human note in Cuchulain's message to his wife: "Tell
her that it goeth better with me from hour to hour;" the poems are
many, long, and of high quality; the rhetoric shows a strophic
correspondence; the Greek principle of letting the messenger tell the
story instead of relating the facts, in a narrative of events (the
method followed in the Antiquarian version) is made full use of; the
modest account given by Cuchulain of his own deeds contrasts well with
the prose account of the same deeds; and the final relation of the
voluntary action of the fairy lady who gives up her lover to her rival,
and her motives, is a piece of literary work centuries in advance of
any other literature of modern Europe.

Some modern accounts of this romance have combined the two forms, and
have omitted the irrelevant incidents in the Antiquarian version; there
are literary advantages in this course, for the disconnected character
of the Antiquarian opening, which must stand first, as it alone gives
the beginning of the story, affords little indication of the high
quality of the better work of the Literary form that follows; but, in
order to heighten the contrast, the two forms are given just as they
occur in the manuscripts, the only omissions being the account of the
election of Lugaid, and the exhortation of Cuchulain to the new king.

Thurneysen, in his Sagen aus dem Alten Irland, places the second
description of Fairyland by Laeg with the Antiquarian form, and this
may be justified not only by the allusion to Ethne, who does not appear
elsewhere in the Literary form, but from the fact that there is a touch
of rough humour in this poem, which appears in the Antiquarian form,
but not elsewhere in the Literary one, where the manuscripts place this
poem.  But on the other hand the poetry of this second description, and
its vividness, come much closer to the Literary form, and it has been
left in the place that the manuscript gives to it.

The whole has been translated direct from the Irish in Irische Texte,
vol. i., with occasional reference to the facsimile of the Leabhar na
h-Uidhri; the words marked as doubtful by Windisch in his glossary,
which are rather numerous, being indicated by marks of interrogation in
the notes, and, where Windisch goes not indicate a probable meaning, a
special note is made on the word, unless it has been given in
dictionaries subsequent to that of Windisch.  Thurneysen's translation
has sometimes been made use of, when there is no other guide; but he
omits some passages, and Windisch has been followed in the rendering
given in his glossary in cases where there would seem to be a
difference, as Thurneysen often translates freely.




THE SICK-BED OF CUCHULAIN



Transcribed from the Lost Yellow Book of Slane


By Maelmuiri mac Ceileachair into the Leabhar na h-Uidhri in the
Eleventh Century


Every year the men of Ulster were accustomed to hold festival together;
and the time when they held it was for three days before Samhain, the
Summer-End, and for three days after that day, and upon Samhain itself.
 And the time that is spoken of is that when the men of Ulster were in
the Plain of Murthemne, and there they used to keep that festival every
year; nor was there an thing in the world that they would do at that
time except sports, and marketings, and splendours, and pomps, and
feasting and eating; and it is from that custom of theirs that the
Festival of the Samhain has descended, that is now held throughout the
whole of Ireland.

Now once upon a time the men of Ulster held festival upon the Murthemne
Plain, and the reason that this festival was held was that every man of
them should then give account of the combats he had made and of his
valour every Summer-End.  It was their custom to hold that festival in
order to give account of these combats, and the manner in which they
gave that account was this: Each man used to cut off the tip of the
tongue of a foe whom he had killed, and he bore it with him in a pouch.
 Moreover, in order to make more great the numbers of their contests,
some used to bring with them the tips of the tongues of beasts, and
each man publicly declared the fights he had fought, one man of them
after the other.  And they did this also--they laid their swords over
their thighs when they declared the strifes, and their own swords used
to turn against them when the strife that they declared was false; nor
was this to be wondered at, for at that time it was customary for demon
beings to scream from the weapons of men, so that for this cause their
weapons might be the more able to guard them.

To that festival then came all the men of Ulster except two alone, and
these two were Fergus the son of Rog, and Conall the Victorious.  "Let
the festival be held!" cried the men of Ulster.  "Nay," said Cuchulain,
"it shall not be held until Conall and Fergus come," and this he said
because Fergus was the foster-father of Cuchulain, and Conall was his
comrade.  Then said Sencha: "Let us for the present engage in games of
chess; and let the Druids sing, and let the jugglers play their feats;"
and it was done as he had said.

Now while they were thus employed a flock of birds came down and
hovered over the lake; never was seen in Ireland more beautiful birds
than these.  And a longing that these birds should be given to them
seized upon the women who were there; and each of them began to boast
of the prowess of her husband at bird-catching.  "How I wish," said
Ethne Aitencaithrech, Conor's wife, "that I could have two of those
birds, one of them upon each of my two shoulders."  "It is what we all
long for," said the women; and "If any should have this boon, I should
be the first one to have it," said Ethne Inguba, the wife of Cuchulain.

"What are we to do now?" said the women.  "'Tis easy to answer you,"
said Leborcham, the daughter of Oa and Adarc; "I will go now with a
message from you, and will seek for Cuchulain."  She then went to
Cuchulain, and "The women of Ulster would be well pleased," she said,
"if yonder birds were given to them by thy hand."  And Cuchulain made
for his sword to unsheathe it against her: "Cannot the lasses of Ulster
find any other but us," he said, "to give them their bird-hunt to-day?"
 "'Tis not seemly for thee to rage thus against them," said Leborcham,
"for it is on thy account that the women of Ulster have assumed one of
their three blemishes, even the blemish of blindness."  For there were
three blemishes that the women of Ulster assumed, that of crookedness
of gait, and that of a stammering in their speech, and that of
blindness.  Each of the women who loved Conall the Victorious had
assumed a crookedness of gait; each woman who loved Cuscraid Mend, the
Stammerer of Macha, Conor's son, stammered in her speech; each woman in
like manner who loved Cuchulain had assumed a blindness of her eyes, in
order to resemble Cuchulain; for he, when his mind was angry within
him, was accustomed to draw in the one of his eyes so far that a crane
could not reach it in his head, and would thrust out the other so that
it was great as a cauldron in which a calf is cooked.

"Yoke for us the chariot, O Laeg!" said Cuchulain.  And Laeg yoked the
chariot at that, and Cuchulain went into the chariot, and he cast his
sword at the birds with a cast like the cast of a boomerang, so that
they with their claws and wings flapped against the water.  And they
seized upon all the birds, and they gave them and distributed them
among the women; nor was there any one of the women, except Ethne
alone, who had not a pair of those birds.  Then Cuchulain returned to
his wife; and "Thou art enraged," said he to her.  "I am in no way
enraged," answered Ethne, "for I deem it as being by me that the
distribution was made.  And thou hast done what was fitting," she said,
"for there is not one of these woman but loves thee; none in whom thou
hast no share; but for myself none hath any share in me except thou
alone."  "Be not angry," said Cuchulain, "if in the future any birds
come to the Plain of Murthemne or to the Boyne, the two birds that are
the most beautiful among those that come shall be thine."

A little while after this they saw two birds flying over the lake,
linked together by a chain of red gold.  They sang a gentle song, and a
sleep fell upon all the men who were there; and Cuchulain rose up to
pursue the birds.  "If thou wilt hearken to me," said Laeg, and so also
said Ethne, "thou shalt not go against them; behind those birds is some
especial power.  Other birds may be taken by thee at some future day."
"Is it possible that such claim as this should be made upon me?" said
Cuchulain.  "Place a stone in my sling, O Laeg!"  Laeg thereon took a
stone, and he placed it in the sling, and Cuchulain launched the stone
at the birds, but the cast missed.  "Alas!" said he.  He took another
stone, and he launched this also at the birds, but the stone flew past
them.  "Wretched that I am," he cried, "since the very first day that I
assumed arms, I have never missed a cast until this day!"  And he cast
his spear at them, and the spear went through the shield of the wing of
one of the birds, and the birds flew away, and went beneath the lake.

After this Cuchulain departed, and he rested his back against a stone
pillar, and his soul was angry within him, and a sleep fell upon him.
Then saw he two women come to him; the one of them had a green mantle
upon her, and upon the other was a purple mantle folded in five folds.
And the woman in the green mantle approached him, and she laughed a
laugh at him, and she gave him a stroke with a horsewhip.  And then the
other approached him, and she also laughed at him, and she struck him
in the like manner; and for a long time were they thus, each of them in
turn coming to him and striking him until he was all but dead; and then
they departed from him.

Now the men of Ulster perceived the state in which Cuchulain was in;
and they cried out that he should be awakened; but "Nay," said Fergus,
"ye shall not move him, for he seeth a vision;" and a little after that
Cuchulain came from his sleep.  "What hath happened to thee?" said the
men of Ulster; but he had no power to bid greeting to them.  "Let me be
carried," he said, "to the sick-bed that is in Tete Brecc; neither to
Dun Imrith, nor yet to Dun Delga."  "Wilt thou not be carried to Dun
Delga to seek for Emer?" said Laeg.  "Nay," said he, "my word is for
Tete Brecc;" and thereon they bore him from that place, and he was in
Tete Brecc until the end of one year, and during all that time he had
speech with no one.

Now upon a certain day before the next Summer-End, at the end of a
year, when the men of Ulster were in the house where Cuchulain was,
Fergus being at the side-wall, and Conall Cernach at his head, and
Lugaid Red-Stripes at his pillow, and Ethne Inguba at his feet; when
they were there in this manner, a man came to them, and he seated
himself near the entrance of the chamber in which Cuchulain lay.  "What
hath brought thee here?" said Conall the Victorious.  "No hard question
to answer," said the man.  "If the man who lies yonder were in health,
he would be a good protection to all of Ulster; in the weakness and the
sickness in which he now is, so much the more great is the protection
that they have from him.  I have no fear of any of you," he said, "for
it is to give to this man a greeting that I come."  "Welcome to thee,
then, and fear nothing," said the men of Ulster; and the man rose to
his feet, and he sang them these staves:


Ah! Cuchulain, who art under sickness still,
Not long thou its cure shouldst need;
Soon would Aed Abra's daughters, to heal thine ill,
To thee, at thy bidding, speed.

Liban, she at swift Labra's right hand who sits,
Stood up on Cruach's[FN#25] Plain, and cried:
"'Tis the wish of Fand's heart, she the tale permits,
To sleep at Cuchulain's side.


[FN#25]  Pronounced something like Croogh.


"'If Cuchulain would come to me,' Fand thus told,
'How goodly that day would shine!
Then on high would our silver be heaped, and gold,
Our revellers pour the wine.

"'And if now in my land, as my friend, had been
Cuchulain, of Sualtam[FN#26] son,
The things that in visions he late hath seen
In peace would he safe have won.

"'In the Plains of Murthemne, to south that spread,
Shall Liban my word fulfil:
She shall seek him on Samhain, he naught need dread,
By her shall be cured his ill.'"


[FN#26]  Pronounced Sooltam.


"Who art thou, then, thyself?" said the men of Ulster.  "I am Angus,
the son of Aed Abra," he answered; and the man then left them, nor did
any of them know whence it was he had come, nor whither he went.
Then Cuchulain sat up, and he spoke to them.  "Fortunate indeed is
this!" said the men of Ulster; "tell us what it is that hath happened
to thee."  "Upon Samhain night last year," he said, "I indeed saw a
vision;" and he told them of all he had seen.  "What should now be
done, Father Conor?" said Cuchulain.  "This hast thou to do," answered
Conor, "rise, and go until thou comest to the pillar where thou wert
before."

Then Cuchulain went forth until he came to the pillar, and then saw he
the woman in the green mantle come to him.  "This is good, O
Cuchulain!" said she.  "'Tis no good thing in my thought," said
Cuchulain.  "Wherefore camest thou to me last year?" he said.  "It was
indeed to do no injury to thee that we came," said the woman, "but to
seek for thy friendship. I have come to greet thee," she said, "from
Fand, the daughter of Aed Abra; her husband, Manannan the Son of the
Sea, hath released her, and she hath thereon set her love on thee.  My
own name is Liban, and I have brought to thee a message from my spouse,
Labraid the Swift, the Sword-Wielder,
that he will give thee the woman in exchange for one day's service to
him in battle against Senach the Unearthly, and against Eochaid
Juil,[FN#27] and against Yeogan the Stream."  "I am in no fit state,"
he said, "to contend with men to-day."  "That will last but a little
while," she said; "thou shalt be whole, and all that thou hast lost of
thy strength shall be increased to thee.  Labraid shall bestow on thee
that boon, for he is the best of all warriors that are in the world."


[FN#27]  Pronounced, nearly, Yeo-hay Yool.


"Where is it that Labraid dwelleth?" asked Cuchulain.

"In Mag Mell,[FN#28] the Plain of Delight," said Liban; "and now I
desire to go to another land," said she.


[FN#28]  Pronounced Maw Mel.


"Let Laeg go with thee," said Cuchulain, "that he may learn of the land
from which thou hast come."  "Let him come, then," said Liban.

They departed after that, and they went forward until they came to a
place where Fand was.  And Liban turned to seek for Laeg, and she set
him upon her shoulder.  "Thou wouldest never go hence, O Laeg!" said
Liban, "wert thou not under a woman's protection."  "'Tis not a thing
that I have most been accustomed to up to this time," said Laeg, "to be
under a woman's guard."  "Shame, and everlasting shame," said Liban,
"that Cuchulain is not where thou art."  "It were well for me,"
answered Laeg, "if it were indeed he who is here."

They passed on then, and went forward until they came opposite to the
shore of an island, and there they saw a skiff of bronze lying upon the
lake before them.  They entered into the skiff, and they crossed over
to the island, and came to the palace door, and there they saw the man,
and he came towards them.  And thus spoke Liban to the man whom they
saw there:


Say where He, the Hand-on-Sword,
Labra swift, abideth?
He who, of the triumphs lord,
In strong chariot rideth.
When victorious troops are led,
Labra hath the leading;
He it is, when spears are red,
Sets the points a-bleeding.


And the man replied to her, and spoke thus:


Labra, who of speed is son,
Comes, and comes not slowly;
Crowded hosts together run,
Bent on warfare wholly.
Soon upon the Forest Plain
Shall be set the killing;
For the hour when men are slain
Fidga's[FN#29] Fields are filling![FN#30]


[FN#29]  Pronounced, nearly, Feega.

[FN#30]  Irish metre approximately imitated in these stanzas.


They entered then into the palace, and they saw there thrice fifty
couches within the palace, and three times fifty women upon the
couches, and the women all bade Laeg welcome, and it was in these words
that they addressed him:


Hail! for the guide,
Laeg! of thy quest:
Laeg we beside
Hail, as our guest!


"What wilt thou do now?" said Liban; "wilt thou go on without a delay,
and hold speech with Fand?"

"I will go," he answered, "if I may know the place where she is."

"That is no hard matter to tell thee," she answered; "she is in her
chamber apart."  They went therein, and they greeted Fand, and she
welcomed Laeg in the same fashion as the others had done.

Fand is the daughter of Aed Abra; Aed means fire, and he is the fire of
the eye: that is, of the eye's pupil: Fand moreover is the name of the
tear that runs from the eye; it was on account of the clearness of her
beauty that she was so named, for there is nothing else in the world
except a tear to which her beauty could be likened.

Now, while they were thus in that place, they heard the rattle of
Labraid's chariot as he approached the island.  "The spirit of Labraid
is gloomy to-day," said Liban, "I will go and greet him."  And she went
out, and she bade welcome to Labraid, and she spoke as follows:


Hail! the man who holdeth sword, the swift in fight!
Heir of little armies, armed with javelins light;
Spears he drives in splinters; bucklers bursts in twain;
Limbs of men are wounded; nobles by him slain.
He for error searcheth, streweth gifts not small,
Hosts of men destroyeth; fairer he than all!
Heroes whom he findeth feel his fierce attack;
Labra! swiftest Sword-Hand! welcome to us back!


Labraid made no reply to her, and the lady spoke again thus:


Welcome! swift Labra,
Hand to sword set!
All win thy bounty,
Praise thou shalt get;
Warfare thou seekest,
Wounds seam thy side;
Wisely thou speakest,
Law canst decide;
Kindly thou rulest,
Wars fightest well;
Wrong-doers schoolest,
Hosts shalt repel.


Labraid still made no answer, and she sang another lay thus:


Labra! all hail!
Sword-wielder, swift:
War can he wage,
Warriors can sift;
Valiant is he,
Fighters excels;
More than in sea
Pride in him swells;
Down in the dust
Strength doth he beat;
They who him trust
Rise to their feet
Weak ones he'll raise,
Humble the strong;
Labra! thy praise
Peals loud and long!


"Thou speakest not rightly, O lady," said Labraid; and he then spoke to
her thus:


O my wife! naught of boasting or pride is in me;
No renown would I claim, and no falsehood shall be:
Lamentation alone stirs my mind, for hard spears
Rise in numbers against me: dread contest appears:
The right arms of their heroes red broadswords shall swing;
Many hosts Eochaid Juil holds to heart as their king:
Let no pride then be ours; no high words let there be;
Pride and arrogance far should be, lady, from me!


"Let now thy mind be appeased," said the lady Liban to him.  "Laeg, the
charioteer of Cuchulain, is here; and Cuchulain hath sent word to thee
that he will come to join thy hosts."

Then Labraid bade welcome to Laeg, and he said to him: "Welcome, O
Laeg! for the sake of the lady with whom thou comest, and for the sake
of him from whom thou hast come.  Do thou now go to thine own land, O
Laeg!" said Labraid, "and Liban shall accompany thee."

Then Laeg returned to Emain, and he gave news of what he had seen to
Cuchulain, and to all others beside; and Cuchulain rose up, and he
passed his hand over his face, and he greeted Laeg brightly, and his
mind was strengthened within him for the news that the lad had brought
him.

[At this point occurs the break in the story indicated in the preface,
and the description of the Bull-Feast at which Lugaid Red-Stripes is
elected king over all Ireland; also the exhortation that Cuchulain,
supposed to be lying on his sick-bed, gives to Lugaid as to the duties
of a king.  After this insertion, which has no real connection with the
story, the story itself proceeds, but from another point, for the
thread is taken up at the place where Cuchulain has indeed awaked from
his trance, but is still on his sick-bed; the message of Angus appears
to have been given, but Cuchulain does not seem to have met Liban for
the second time, nor to have sent Laeg to inquire.  Ethne has
disappeared as an actor from the scene; her place is taken by Emer,
Cuchulain's real wife; and the whole style of the romance so alters for
the better that, even if it were not for the want of agreement of the
two versions, we could see that we have here two tales founded upon the
same legend but by two different hands, the end of the first and the
beginning of the second alike missing, and the gap filled in by the
story of the election of Lugaid.

Now as to Cuchulain it has to be related thus: He called upon Laeg to
come to him; and "Do thou go, O Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "to the place
where Emer is; and say to her that women of the fairies have come upon
me, and that they have destroyed my strength; and say also to her that
it goeth better with me from hour to hour, and bid her to come and seek
me;" and the young man Laeg then spoke these words in order to hearten
the mind of Cuchulain:


It fits not heroes lying
On sick-bed in a sickly sleep to dream:
Witches before thee flying
Of Trogach's fiery Plain the dwellers seem:
They have beat down thy strength,
Made thee captive at length,
And in womanish folly away have they driven thee far.

Arise! no more be sickly!
Shake off the weakness by those fairies sent:
For from thee parteth quickly
Thy strength that for the chariot-chiefs was meant:
Thou crouchest, like a youth!
Art thou subdued, in truth?
Have they shaken thy prowess and deeds that were meet for the war

Yet Labra's power hath sent his message plain:
Rise, thou that crouchest: and be great again.


And Laeg, after that heartening, departed; and he went on until he came
to the place where Emer was; and he told her of the state of Cuchulain:
"Ill hath it been what thou hast done, O youth!" she said; "for
although thou art known as one who dost wander in the lands where the
fairies dwell; yet no virtue of healing hast thou found there and
brought for the cure of thy lord.  Shame upon the men of Ulster!" she
said, "for they have not sought to do a great deed, and to heal him.
Yet, had Conor thus been fettered; had it been Fergus who had lost his
sleep, had it been Conall the Victorious to whom wounds had been dealt,
Cuchulain would have saved them."  And she then sang a song, and in
this fashion she sang it:


Laeg! who oft the fairy hill[FN#31]
Searchest, slack I find thee still;
Lovely Dechtire's son shouldst thou
By thy zeal have healed ere now.

Ulster, though for bounties famed,
Foster-sire and friends are shamed:
None hath deemed Cuchulain worth
One full journey through the earth.

Yet, if sleep on Fergus fell,
Such that magic arts dispel,
Dechtire's son had restless rode
Till a Druid raised that load.

Aye, had Conall come from wars,
Weak with wounds and recent scars;
All the world our Hound would scour
Till he found a healing power.

Were it Laegaire[FN#32] war had pressed,
Erin's meads would know no rest,
Till, made whole from wounds, he won
Mach's grandchild, Conna's son.

Had thus crafty Celthar slept,
Long, like him, by sickness kept;
Through the elf-mounds, night and day,
Would our Hound, to heal him, stray.

Furbaid, girt by heroes strong,
Were it he had lain thus long;
Ah! our Hound would rescue bear
Though through solid earth he fare.


[FN#31]  The metre of these verses is that of the Irish.

[FN#32]  Pronounced Leary.


All the elves of Troom[FN#33] seem dead;
All their mighty deeds have fled;
For their Hound, who hounds surpassed,
Elves have bound in slumber fast.

Ah! on me thy sickness swerves,
Hound of Smith who Conor serves!
Sore my heart, my flesh must be:
May thy cure be wrought by me.

Ah! 'tis blood my heart that stains,
Sick for him who rode the plains:
Though his land be decked for feast,
He to seek its plain hath ceased.

He in Emain still delays;
'Tis those Shapes the bar that raise:
Weak my voice is, dead its tone,
He in evil form is shown.

Month-long, year-long watch I keep;
Seasons pass, I know not sleep:
Men's sweet speech strikes not mine ear;
Naught, Riangabra's[FN#34] son, I hear.


[FN#33]  Spelt Truim.

[FN#34]  Pronounced Reen-gabra.


And, after that she had sung that song, Emer went forward to Emain that
she might seek for Cuchulain; and she seated herself in the chamber
where Cuchulain was, and thus she addressed him: "Shame upon thee!" she
said, "to lie thus prostrate for a woman's love! well may this long
sickbed of thine cause thee to ail!"  And it was in this fashion that
she addressed him, and she chanted this lay:


Stand up, O thou hero of Ulster!
Wake from sleep! rise up, joyful and sound!
Look on Conor the king! on my beauty,
Will that loose not those slumbers profound?

See the Ulstermen's clear shining shoulders!
Hear their trumpets that call to the fight!
See their war-cars that sweep through the valleys,
As in hero-chess, leaping each knight.

See their chiefs, and the strength that adorns them,
Their tall maidens, so stately with grace;
The swift kings, springing on to the battle,
The great queens of the Ulstermen's race!

The clear winter but now is beginning;
Lo! the wonder of cold that hangs there!
'Tis a sight that should warn thee; how chilly!
Of what length I yet of colour how bare!

This long slumber is ill; it decays thee:
'Tis like "milk for the full" the saw saith
Hard is war with fatigue; deadly weakness
Is a Prince who stands second to Death.

Wake! 'tis joy for the sodden, this slumber;
Throw it off with a great glowing heat:
Sweet-voiced friends for thee wait in great number:
Ulster's champion! stand up on thy feet!


And Cuchulain at her word stood up; and he passed his hand over his
face, and he cast all his heaviness and his weariness away from him,
and then he arose, and went on his way before him until he came to the
enclosure that he sought; and in that enclosure Liban appeared to him.
And Liban spoke to him, and she strove to lead him into the fairy hill;
but "What place is that in which Labraid dwelleth?" said Cuchulain.  It
is easy for me to tell thee!" she said:


Labra's home's a pure lake, whither
Troops of women come and go;
Easy paths shall lead thee thither,
Where thou shalt swift Labra know.

Hundreds his skilled arm repelleth;
Wise be they his deeds who speak:
Look where rosy beauty dwelleth;
Like to that think Labra's cheek.

Head of wolf, for gore that thirsteth,
Near his thin red falchion shakes;
Shields that cloak the chiefs he bursteth,
Arms of foolish foes he breaks.

Trust of friend he aye requiteth,
Scarred his skin, like bloodshot eye;
First of fairy men he fighteth;
Thousands, by him smitten, die.

Chiefs at Echaid[FN#35] Juil's name tremble;
Yet his land-strange tale-he sought,
He whose locks gold threads resemble,
With whose breath wine-scents are brought.

More than all strife-seekers noted,
Fiercely to far lands he rides;
Steeds have trampled, skiffs have floated
Near the isle where he abides.

Labra, swift Sword-Wielder, gaineth
Fame for actions over sea;
Sleep for all his watch sustaineth!
Sure no coward hound is he.

The chains on the necks of the coursers he rides,
And their bridles are ruddy with gold:
He hath columns of crystal and silver besides,
The roof of his house to uphold.


[FN#35]  Pronounced, apparently, Ech-ay, the ch like the sound in
"loch."


"I will not go thither at a woman's call," said Cuchulain.  "Let Laeg
then go," said the lady, "and let him bring to thee tidings of all that
is there."  "Let him depart, then," said Cuchulain; and Laeg rose up
and departed with Liban, and they came to the Plain of Speech, and to
the Tree of Triumphs, and over the festal plain of Emain, and over the
festal plain of Fidga, and in that place was Aed Abra, and with him his
daughters.

Then Fand bade welcome to Laeg, and "How is it," said she, "that
Cuchulain hath not come with thee?"  "It pleased him not," said Laeg,
"to come at a woman's call; moreover, he desired to know whether it was
indeed from thee that had come the message, and to have full knowledge
of everything."  "It was indeed from me that the message was sent," she
said; "and let now Cuchulain come swiftly to seek us, for it is for
to-day that the strife is set."  Then Laeg went back to the place where
he had left Cuchulain, and Liban with him; and "How appeareth this
quest to thee, O Laeg?" said Cuchulain.  And Laeg answering said, "In a
happy hour shalt thou go," said he, "for the battle is set for to-day;"
and it was in this manner that he spake, and he recited thus:


I went gaily through regions,
Though strange, seen before:
By his cairn found I Labra,
A cairn for a score.

There sat yellow-haired Labra,
His spears round him rolled;
His long bright locks well gathered
Round apple of gold.

On my five-folded purple
His glance at length fell,
And he said, "Come and enter
Where Failbe doth dwell."

In one house dwells white Failbe,
With Labra, his friend;
And retainers thrice fifty
Each monarch attend.

On the right, couches fifty,
Where fifty men rest;
On the left, fifty couches
By men's weight oppressed.

For each couch copper frontings,
Posts golden, and white;
And a rich flashing jewel
As torch, gives them light.

Near that house, to the westward,
Where sunlight sinks down,
Stand grey steeds, with manes dappled
And steeds purple-brown.

On its east side are standing
Three bright purple trees
Whence the birds' songs, oft ringing
The king's children please.

From a tree in the fore-court
Sweet harmony streams;
It stands silver, yet sunlit
With gold's glitter gleams.

Sixty trees' swaying summits
Now meet, now swing wide;
Rindless food for thrice hundred
Each drops at its side.

Near a well by that palace
Gay cloaks spread out lie,
Each with splendid gold fastening
Well hooked through its eye.

They who dwell there, find flowing
A vat of glad ale:
'Tis ordained that for ever
That vat shall not fail.

From the hall steps a lady
Well gifted, and fair:
None is like her in Erin;
Like gold is her hair.

And so sweet, and so wondrous
Her words from her fall,
That with love and with longing
She breaks hearts of all.

"Who art thou?" said that lady,
"For strange thou art here;
But if Him of Murthemne
Thou servest, draw near."

Slowly, slowly I neared her;
I feared for my fame:
And she said, "Comes he hither,
Of Dechtire who came?"

Ah! long since, for thy healing,
Thou there shouldst have gone,
And have viewed that great palace
Before me that shone.

Though I ruled all of Erin
And yellow Breg's hill,
I'd give all, no small trial,
To know that land still.

"The quest then is a good one?" said Cuchulain.  "It is goodly indeed,"
said Laeg, "and it is right that thou shouldest go to attain it, and
all things in that land are good."  And thus further also spoke Laeg,
as he told of the loveliness of the fairy dwelling:


I saw a land of noble form and splendid,
Where dwells naught evil; none can speak a lie:
There stands the king, by all his hosts attended,
Brown Labra, swift to sword his hand can fly.

We crossed the Plain of Speech, our steps arrested
Near to that Tree, whose branches triumphs bear;
At length upon the hill-crowned plain we rested,
And saw the Double-Headed Serpent's lair.

Then Liban said, as we that mount sat under:
"Would I could see--'twould be a marvel strange--
Yet, if I saw it, dear would be that wonder,
if to Cuchulain's form thy form could change."

Great is the beauty of Aed Abra's daughters,
Unfettered men before them conquered fall;
Fand's beauty stuns, like sound of rushing waters,
Before her splendour kings and queens seem small.

Though I confess, as from the wise ones hearing,
That Adam's race was once unstained by sin; -
Yet did I swear, when Fand was there appearing,
None in past ages could such beauty win.

I saw the champions stand with arms for slaying,
Right splendid was the garb those heroes bore;
Gay coloured garments, meet for their arraying,
'Twas not the vesture of rude churls they wore.

Women of music at the feast were sitting,
A brilliant maiden bevy near them stood;
And forms of noble youths were upwards flitting
Through the recesses of the mountain wood.

I saw the folk of song; their strains rang sweetly,
As for the lady in that house they played;
Had I not I fled away from thence, and fleetly,
Hurt by that music, I had weak been made.

I know the hill where Ethne took her station,
And Ethne Inguba's a lovely maid;
But none can drive from sense a warlike nation
Save she alone, in beauty then displayed.


And Cuchulain, when he had heard that report, went on with Liban to
that land, and he took his chariot with him.  And they came to the
Island of Labraid, and there Labraid and all the women that were there
bade them welcome; and Fand gave an especial welcome to Cuchulain.
"What is there now set for us to do?" said Cuchulain.  "No hard matter
to answer," said Labraid; "we must go forth and make a circuit about
the army."  They went out then, and they came to the army, and they let
their eyes wander over it; and the host seemed to them to be
innumerable.  "Do thou arise, and go hence for the present," said
Cuchulain to Labraid; and Labraid departed, and Cuchulain remained
confronting the army.  And there were two ravens there, who spake, and
revealed Druid secrets, but the armies who heard them laughed.  "It
must surely be the madman from Ireland who is there," said the army;
"it is he whom the ravens would make known to us;" and the armies
chased them away so that they found no resting-place in that land.

Now at early morn Eochaid Juil went out in order to bathe his hands in
the spring, and Cuchulain saw his shoulder through the hood of his
tunic, and he hurled his spear at him, and he pierced him.  And he by
himself slew thirty-and-three of them, and then Senach the Unearthly
assailed him, and a great fight was fought between them, and Cuchulain
slew him; and after that Labraid approached, and he brake before him
those armies.

Then Labraid entreated Cuchulain to stay his hand from the slaying; and
"I fear now," said Laeg, "that the man will turn his wrath upon us; for
he hath not found a war to suffice him.  Go now," said Laeg, "and let
there be brought three vats of cold water to cool his heat.  The first
vat into which he goeth shall boil over; after he hath gone into the
second vat, none shall be able to bear the heat of it: after he hath
gone into the third vat, its water shall have but a moderate heat."

And when the women saw Cuchulain's return, Fand sang thus:


Fidga's[FN#36] plain, where the feast assembles,
Shakes this eve, as his car he guides;
All the land at the trampling trembles;
Young and beardless, in state he rides.

Blood-red canopies o'er him swinging
Chant, but not as the fairies cry;
Deeper bass from the car is singing,
Deeply droning, its wheels reply.

Steeds are bounding beneath the traces,
None to match them my thought can find;
Wait a while! I would note their graces:
On they sweep, like the spring's swift wind.

High in air, in his breath suspended,
Float a fifty of golden balls;
Kings may grace in their sports have blended,
None his equal my mind recalls.


[FN#36]  Pronounced, nearly, Fee-ga.


Dimples four on each cheek are glowing,
One seems green, one is tinged with blue,
One dyed red, as if blood were flowing,
One is purple, of lightest hue.

Sevenfold light from his eyeballs flashes,
None may speak him as blind, in scorn;
Proud his glances, and dark eyelashes
Black as beetle, his eyes adorn.

Well his excellence fame confesses,
All through Erin his praise is sung;
Three the hues of his high-piled tresses;
Beardless yet, and a stripling young.

Red his blade, it hath late been blooded;
Shines above it its silver hilt;
Golden bosses his shield have studded,
Round its rim the white bronze is spilt.

O'er the slain in each slaughter striding,
War he seeketh, at risk would snatch:
Heroes keen in your ranks are riding,
None of these is Cuchulain's match.

From Murthemne he comes, we greet him,
Young Cuchulain, the champion strong;
We, compelled from afar to meet him,
Daughters all of Aed Abra, throng.

Every tree, as a lordly token,
Stands all stained with the red blood rain
War that demons might wage is woken,
Wails peal high as he raves again.


Liban moreover bade a welcome to Cuchulain, and she chanted as follows:


Hail to Cuchulain!
Lord, who canst aid;
Murthemne ruling,
Mind undismayed;
Hero-like, glorious,
Heart great and still
Battle-victorious,
Firm rock of skill;
Redly he rageth,
Foemen would face;
Battle he wageth
Meet for his race!
Brilliant his splendour, like maidens' eyes,
Praises we render: praise shall arise!


"Tell us now of the deeds thou hast done, O Cuchulain! cried Liban, and
Cuchulain in this manner replied to her:


From my hand flew a dart, as I made my cast,
Through the host of Stream-Yeogan the javelin passed;
Not at all did I know, though great fame was won,
Who my victim had been, or what deed was done.

Whether greater or less was his might than mine
I have found not at all, nor can right divine;
In a mist was he hid whom my spear would slay,
Yet I know that he went not with life away.

A great host on me closed, and on every side
Rose around me in hordes the red steeds they ride;
From Manannan, the Son of the Sea, came foes,
From Stream-Yeogan to call them a roar arose.

And I went to the battle with all at length,
When my weakness had passed, and I gat full strength;
And alone with three thousands the fight I fought,
Till death to the foes whom I faced was brought.

I heard Echaid Juil's groan, as he neared his end,
The sound came to mine ears as from lips of friend;
Yet, if truth must be told, 'twas no valiant deed,
That cast that I threw, if 'twas thrown indeed.


Now, after all these things had passed, Cuchulain slept with the lady,
and he abode for a month in her company, and at the end of the month he
came to bid her farewell.  "Tell me," she said, "to what place I may go
for our tryst, and I will be there;" and they made tryst at the strand
that is known as the Strand of the Yew-Tree's Head.

Now word was brought to Emer of that tryst, and knives were whetted by
Emer to slay the lady; and she came to the place of the tryst, and
fifty women were with her.  And there she found, Cuchulain and Laeg,
and they were engaged in the chess-play, so that they perceived not the
women's approach.  But Fand marked it, and she cried out to Laeg: "Look
now, O Laeg!" she said, "and mark that sight that I see."  "What sight
is that of which thou speakest?" said Laeg, and he looked and saw it,
and thus it was that the lady, even Fand, addressed him:


Laeg! look behind thee!
Close to thine ear
Wise, well-ranked women
Press on us near;
Bright on each bosom
Shines the gold clasp;
Knives, with green edges
Whetted, they grasp:
As for the slaughter chariot chiefs race,
Comes Forgall's daughter; changed is her face.

"Have no fear," said Cuchulain, "no foe shalt thou meet;
Enter thou my strong car, with its sunny bright seat:
I will set thee before me, will guard thee from harm
Against women, from Ulster's four quarters that swarm:
Though the daughter of Forgall the war with thee vows,
Though her dear foster-sisters against thee she rouse,
No deed of destruction bold Emer will dare,
Though she rageth against thee, for I will be there."


Moreover to Emer he said:


I avoid thee, O lady, as heroes
Avoid to meet friends in a strife;
The hard spear thy hand shakes cannot injure,
Nor the blade of thy thin gleaming knife;
For the wrath pent within thee that rageth
Is but weak, nor can cause mine affright:
It were hard if the war my might wageth
Must be quenched by a weak woman's might!

"Speak! and tell me, Cuchulain," cried Emer,
"Why this shame on my head thou wouldst lay?
Before women of Ulster dishonoured I stand,
And all women who dwell in the wide Irish land,
And all folk who love honour beside:
Though I came on thee, secretly creeping,
Though oppressed by thy might I remain,
And though great is thy pride in the battle,
If thou leavest me, naught is thy gain:
Why, dear youth, such attempt dost thou make?

"Speak thou, Emer, and say," said Cuchulain,
"Should I not with this lady delay?
For this lady is fair, pare and bright, and well skilled,
A fit mate for a monarch, in beauty fulfilled,
And the billows of ocean can ride:
She is lovely in countenance, lofty in race,
And with handicraft skilled can fine needlework trace,
Hath a mind that with firmness can guide:

And in steeds hath she wealth, and much cattle
Doth she own; there is naught under sky
A dear wife for a spouse should be keeping
But that gift with this lady have I:
Though the vow that I made thee I break,
Thou shalt ne'er find champion
Rich, like me, in scars;
Ne'er such worth, such brilliance,
None who wins my wars."


"In good sooth," answered Emer, "the lady to whom thou dost cling is in
no way better than am I myself!  Yet fair seems all that's red; seems
white what's new alone; and bright what's set o'erhead; and sour are
things well known!  Men worship what they lack; and what they have
seems weak; in truth thou hast all the wisdom of the time!  O youth!"
she said, "once we dwelled in honour together, and we would so dwell
again, if only I could find favour in thy sight!" and her grief weighed
heavily upon her.  "By my word," said Cuchulain, "thou dost find
favour, and thou shalt find it so long as I am in life."

"Desert me, then!" cried Fand.  "Nay," said Emer, "it is more fitting
that I should be the deserted one."  "Not so, indeed," said Fand.  "It
is I who must go, and danger rusheth upon me from afar."  And an
eagerness for lamentation seized upon Fand, and her soul was great
within her, for it was shame to her to be deserted and straightway to
return to her home; moreover the mighty love that she bare to Cuchulain
was tumultuous in her, and in this fashion she lamented, and lamenting
sang this song:


Mighty need compels me,
I must go my way;
Fame for others waiteth,
Would I here could stay!

Sweeter were it resting
Guarded by thy power,
Than to find the marvels
In Aed Abra's bower.

Emer! noble lady!
Take thy man to thee:
Though my arms resign him,
Longing lives in me.

Oft in shelters hidden
Men to seek me came;
None could win my trysting,
I myself was flame.

Ah! no maid her longing
On a man should set
Till a love full equal
To her own she get.

Fifty women hither,
Emer! thou hast brought
Thou wouldst Fand make captive,
Hast on murder thought.

Till the day I need them
Waits, my home within;
Thrice thy host! fair virgins,
These my war shall win.


Now upon this it was discerned by Manannan that Fand the daughter of
Aed Abra was engaged in unequal warfare with the women of Ulster, and
that she was like to be left by Cuchulain.  And thereon Manannan came
from the east to seek for the lady, and he was perceived by her, nor
was there any other conscious of his presence saving Fand alone.  And,
when she saw Manannan, the lady was seized by great bitterness of mind
and by grief, and being thus, she made this song:


Lo! the Son of the Sea-Folk from plains draws near
Whence Yeogan, the Stream, is poured;
'Tis Manannan, of old he to me was dear,
And above the fair world we soared.

Yet to-day, although excellent sounds his cry,
No love fills my noble heart,
For the pathways of love may be bent awry,
Its knowledge in vain depart.

When I dwelt in the bower of the Yeogan Stream,
At the Son of the Ocean's side,
Of a life there unending was then our dream,
Naught seemed could our love divide.

When the comely Manannan to wed me came,
To me, as a spouse, full meet;
Not in shame was I sold, in no chessmen's game
The price of a foe's defeat.

When the comely Manannan my lord was made,
When I was his equal spouse,
This armlet of gold that I bear he paid
As price for my marriage vows.

Through the heather came bride-maids, in garments brave
Of all colours, two score and ten;
And beside all the maidens my bounty gave
To my husband a fifty men.

Four times fifty our host; for no frenzied strife
In our palace was pent that throng,
Where a hundred strong men led a gladsome life,
One hundred fair dames and strong.

Manannan draws near: over ocean he speeds,
From all notice of fools is he free;
As a horseman he comes, for no vessel he needs
Who rides the maned waves of the sea.

He hath passed near us now, though his visage to view
Is to all, save to fairies, forbid;
Every troop of mankind his keen sight searcheth through,
Though small, and in secret though hid.

But for me, this resolve in my spirit shall dwell,
Since weak, being woman's, my mind;
Since from him whom so dearly I loved, and so well,
Only danger and insult I find.

I will go! in mine honour unsullied depart,
Fair Cuchulain! I bid thee good-bye;
I have gained not the wish that was dear to my heart,
High justice compels me to fly.

It is flight, this alone that befitteth my state,
Though to some shall this parting be hard:
O thou son of Riangabra! the insult was great:
Not by Laeg shall my going be barred.

I depart to my spouse; ne'er to strife with a foe
Shall Manannan his consort expose;
And, that none may complain that in secret I go,
Behold him! his form I disclose!


Then that lady rose behind Manannan as he passed, and Manannan greeted
her: "O lady!" he said, "which wilt thou do? wilt thou depart with me,
or abide here until Cuchulain comes to thee?"  "By my troth," answered
Fand, "either of the two of ye were a fitting spouse to adhere to; and
neither of you two is better than the other; yet, Manannan, it is with
thee that I go, nor will I wait for Cuchulain, for he hath betrayed me;
and there is another matter, moreover, that weigheth with me, O thou
noble prince!" said she, "and that is that thou hast no consort who is
of worth equal to thine, but such a one hath Cuchulain already."
And Cuchulain saw the lady as she went from him to Manannan, and he
cried out to Laeg: "What meaneth this that I see?"  "'Tis no hard
matter to answer thee," said Laeg. "Fand goeth away with Manannan the
Son of the Sea, since she hath not been pleasing in thy sight!"

Then Cuchulain bounded three times high into the air, and he made three
great leaps towards the south, and thus he came to Tara Luachra,[FN#37]
and there he abode for a long time, having no meat and no drink,
dwelling upon the mountains, and sleeping upon the high-road that
runneth through the midst of Luachra.
Then Emer went on to Emain, and there she sought out king Conor, and
she told Conor of Cuchulain's state, and Conor sent out his learned men
and the people of skill, and the Druids of Ulster, that they might seek
for Cuchulain, and might bind him fast, and bring him with them to
Emain.  And Cuchulain strove to slay the people of skill, but they
chanted wizard and fairy songs against him, and they bound fast his
feet and his hands until he came a little to his senses.  Then he
begged for a drink at their hands, and the Druids gave him a drink of
forgetfulness, so that afterwards he had no more remembrance of Fand
nor of anything else that he had then done; and they also gave a drink
of forgetfulness to Emer that she might forget her jealousy, for her
state was in no way better than the state of Cuchulain.  And Manannan
shook his cloak between Cuchulain and Fand, so that they might never
meet together again throughout eternity.


[FN#37]  Pronounced Looch-ra: Tara Luachra is on the borders of
Limerick and Kerry.




THE EXILE OF THE SONS' OF USNACH



INTRODUCTION


The version given in the following pages of the well-known tale of
Deirdre has been translated from the Irish text of the Book of Leinster
version as printed by Windisch in Irische Texte, vol. i.  Readings from
the two parallel texts of the Book of Lecan, and Egerton, 1782, have
been used where the Leinster text is deficient or doubtful, but the
older MS. has in the main been followed, the chief alterations being
indicated in the notes.  The only English translation hitherto given of
this version is the unreliable one in Atlantis, vol. iii.  There is a
German translation in Thurneysen's Sagen aus dem alten Irland which may
be consulted for literal renderings of most of the verse portions,
which, however, are sometimes nearer the original than Thurneysen's
renderings.

It was at first intended to place beside this version the much better
known version of the tale given by the Glenn Masain manuscript and its
variants; but, as this version is otherwise available in
English,[FN#38] it has been thought better to omit most of it: a verse
translation of Deirdre's final lament in this version has, however,
been added for the purpose of comparing it with the corresponding
lament in the Leinster text.  These two poems are nearly of the same
length, but have no other point in common; the lament in the Leinster
version strikes the more personal note, and it has been suggested that
it shows internal evidence that it must have been written by a woman.
The idea of Deirdre as a seer, which is so prominent in the Glenn
Masain version of the tale, does not appear in the older Leinster text;
the supernatural Druidic mist, which even in the Glenn Masain version
only appears in the late manuscript which continues the story after the
fifteenth-century manuscript breaks off, does not appear in the Book of
Leinster; and the later version introduces several literary artifices
that do not appear in the earlier one.  That portion of the Glenn
Masain version immediately following after Deirdre's lament is given as
an instance of one of these, the common artifice of increase of horror
at a catastrophe by the introduction of irrelevant matter, the tragedy
of Deirdre's death being immediately followed by a cheerful account of
the relationships of the chief heroes of the Heroic Period; a still
better example of this practice in the old Irish literature is the
almost comic relief that is introduced at the most tragic part of the
tale of the murder of the son of Ronan.


[FN#38]  See Irische Texte, vol. ii., and the Celtic Review, vol. i.
1904-1905.




THE EXILE OF THE SONS OF USNACH



BOOK OF LEINSTER VERSION


In the house of Feidlimid,[FN#39] the son of Dall, even he who was the
narrator of stories to Conor the king, the men of Ulster sat at their
ale; and before the men, in order to attend upon them, stood the wife
of Feidlimid, and she was great with child.  Round about the board went
drinking-horns, and portions of food; and the revellers shouted in
their drunken mirth.  And when the men desired to lay themselves down
to sleep, the woman also went to her couch; and, as she passed through
the midst of the house, the child cried out in her womb, so that its
shriek was heard throughout the whole house, and throughout the outer
court that lay about it.  And upon that shriek, all the men sprang up;
and, head closely packed by head, they thronged together in the house,
whereupon Sencha, the son of Ailill, rebuked them: "Let none of you
stir!" cried he, "and let the woman be brought before us, that we may
learn what is the meaning of that cry."  Then they brought the woman
before them, and thus spoke to her Feidlimid, her spouse:


What is that, of all cries far the fiercest,
In thy womb raging loudly and long?
Through all ears with that clamour thou piercest;
With that scream, from Bides swollen and strong:
Of great woe, for that cry, is foreboding my heart;
That is torn through with terror, and sore with the smart.


[FN#39]  Pronounced Feylimid.


Then the woman turned her, and she approached Cathbad[FN#40] the Druid,
for he was a man of knowledge, and thus she spoke to him:


[FN#40]  Pronounced Cah-ba.


Give thou ear to me, Cathbad, thou fair one of face,
Thou great crown of our honour, and royal in race;
Let the man so exalted still higher be set,
Let the Druid draw knowledge, that Druids can get.
For I want words of wisdom, and none can I fetch;
Nor to Felim a torch of sure knowledge can stretch:
As no wit of a woman can wot what she bears,
I know naught of that cry from within me that tears.


And then said Cathbad:


'Tis a maid who screamed wildly so lately,
Fair and curling shall locks round her flow,
And her eyes be blue-centred and stately;
And her cheeks, like the foxglove, shall glow.
For the tint of her skin, we commend her,
In its whiteness, like snow newly shed;
And her teeth are all faultless in splendour
And her lips, like to coral, are red:
A fair woman is she, for whom heroes,
that fight In their chariots for Ulster, to death shall be dight.

'Tis a woman that shriek who hath given,
Golden-haired, with long tresses, and tall;
For whose love many chiefs shall have striven,
And great kings for her favours shall call.
To the west she shall hasten, beguiling
A great host, that from Ulster shall steal:
Red as coral, her lips shall be smiling,
As her teeth, white as pearls, they reveal:
Aye, that woman is fair, and great queens shall be fain
Of her form, that is faultless, unflawed by a stain.


Then Cathbad laid his hand upon the body of the woman; and the little
child moved beneath his hand: "Aye, indeed," he said, "it is a woman
child who is here: Deirdre shall be her name, and evil woe shall be
upon her."

Now some days after that came the girl child into the world; and then
thus sang Cathbad:


O Deirdre! of ruin great cause thou art;
Though famous, and fair, and pale:
Ere that Felim's hid daughter from life shall part,
All Ulster her deeds shall wail.

Aye, mischief shall come, in the after-time,
Thou fair shining maid, for thee;
Hear ye this: Usna's sons, the three chiefs sublime,
To banishment forced shall be.

While thou art in life, shall a fierce wild deed
In Emain, though late, be done:
Later yet, it shall mourn it refused to heed
The guard of Rog's powerful son.

O lady of worth! It is to thee we owe
That Fergus to exile flies;
That a son of king Conor we hail in woe,
When Fiachna[FN#41] is hurt, and dies.

O lady of worth! It is all thine the guilt!
Gerrc, Illadan's son, is slain;
And when Eogan mac Doorha's great life is spilt,
Not less shall be found our pain.

Grim deed shalt thou do, and in wrath shalt rave
Against glorious Ulster's king:
In that spot shall men dig thee thy tiny grave;
Of Deirdre they long shall sing.


[FN#41]  Pronounced Feena.


"Let that maiden be slain!" cried out the young men of Ulster; but "Not
so!" said Conor; "she shall in the morning be brought to me, and shall
be reared according to my will, and she shall be my wife, and in my
companionship shall she dwell."

The men of Ulster were not so hardy as to turn him from his purpose,
and thus it was done.  The maiden was reared in a house that belonged
to Conor, and she grew up to be the fairest maid in all Ireland.  She
was brought up at a distance from the king's court; so that none of the
men of Ulster might see her till the time came when she was to share
the royal couch: none of mankind was permitted to enter the house where
she was reared, save only her foster-father, and her foster-mother; and
in addition to these Levorcham, to whom naught could any refuse, for
she was a witch.

Now once it chanced upon a certain day in the time of winter that the
foster-father of Deirdre had employed himself in skinning a calf upon
the snow, in order to prepare a roast for her, and the blood of the
calf lay upon the snow, and she saw a black raven who came down to
drink it.  And "Levorcham," said Deirdre, "that man only will I love,
who hath the three colours that I see here, his hair as black as the
raven, his cheeks red like the blood, and his body as white as the
snow."  "Dignity and good fortune to thee!" said Levorcham; "that man
is not far away.  Yonder is he in the burg which is nigh; and the name
of him is Naisi, the son of Usnach."  "I shall never be in good health
again," said Deirdre, "until the time come when I may see him."

It befell that Naisi was upon a certain day alone upon the rampart of
the burg of Emain, and he sent his warrior-cry with music abroad: well
did the musical cry ring out that was raised by the sons of Usnach.
Each cow and every beast that heard them, gave of milk two-thirds more
than its wont; and each man by whom that cry was heard deemed it to be
fully joyous, and a dear pleasure to him.  Goodly moreover was the play
that these men made with their weapons; if the whole province of Ulster
had been assembled together against them in one place, and they three
only had been able to set their backs against one another, the men of
Ulster would not have borne away victory from those three: so well were
they skilled in parry and defence.  And they were swift of foot when
they hunted the game, and with them it was the custom to chase the
quarry to its death.

Now when this Naisi found himself alone on the plain, Deirdre also soon
escaped outside her house to him, and she ran past him, and at first he
know not who she might be.


"Fair is the young heifer that springs past me!" he cried.

"Well may the young heifers be great," she said, "in a place where none
may find a bull."

"Thou hast, as thy bull," said he, "the bull of the whole province of
Ulster, even Conor the king of Ulster."

"I would choose between you two," she said, "and I would take for
myself a younger bull, even such as thou art."

"Not so indeed," said Naisi, "for I fear the prophecy of Cathbad."

"Sayest thou this, as meaning to refuse me?" said she.

"Yea indeed," he said; and she sprang upon him, and she seized him by
his two ears.  "Two ears of shame and of mockery shalt thou have," she
cried, "if thou take me not with thee."  "Release me, O my wife!" said
he.

"That will I."

Then Naisi raised his musical warrior-cry, and the men of Ulster heard
it, and each of them one after another sprang up: and the sons of
Usnach hurried out in order to hold back their brother.

"What is it," they said, "that thou dost? let it not be by any fault of
thine that war is stirred up between us and the men of Ulster."

Then he told them all that had been done; and "There shall evil come on
thee from this," said they; "moreover thou shalt lie under the reproach
of shame so long as thou dost live; and we will go with her into
another land, for there is no king in all Ireland who will refuse us
welcome if we come to him."

Then they took counsel together, and that same night they departed,
three times fifty warriors, and the same number of women, and dogs, and
servants, and Deirdre went with them.  And for a long time they
wandered about Ireland, in homage to this man or that; and often Conor
sought to slay them, either by ambuscade or by treachery; from round
about Assaroe, near to Ballyshannon in the west, they journeyed, and
they turned them back to Benn Etar, in the north-east, which men to-day
call the Mountain of Howth.  Nevertheless the men of Ulster drave them
from the land, and they came to the land of Alba, and in its
wildernesses they dwelled.  And when the chase of the wild beasts of
the mountains failed them, they made foray upon the cattle of the men
of Alba, and took them for themselves; and the men of Alba gathered
themselves together with intent to destroy them.  Then they took
shelter with the king of Alba, and the king took them into his
following, and they served him in war.  And they made for themselves
houses of their own in the meadows by the king's burg: it was on
account of Deirdre that these houses were made, for they feared that
men might see her, and that on her account they might be slain.

Now one day the high-steward of the king went out in the early morning,
and he made a cast about Naisi's house, and saw those two sleeping
therein, and he hurried back to the king, and awaked him: "We have,"
said he, "up to this day found no wife for thee of like dignity to
thyself.  Naisi the son of Usnach hath a wife of worth sufficient for
the emperor of the western world!  Let Naisi be slain, and let his wife
share thy couch."

"Not so!" said the king, "but do thou prepare thyself to go each day to
her house, and woo her for me secretly."

Thus was it done; but Deirdre, whatsoever the steward told her, was
accustomed straightway to recount it each even to her spouse; and since
nothing was obtained from her, the sons of Usnach were sent into
dangers, and into wars, and into strifes that thereby they might be
overcome.  Nevertheless they showed themselves to be stout in every
strife, so that no advantage did the king gain from them by such
attempts as these.

The men of Alba were gathered together to destroy the sons of Usnach,
and this also was told to Deirdre.  And she told her news to Naisi:
"Depart hence!" said she, "for if ye depart not this night, upon the
morrow ye shall he slain!"  And they marched away that night, and they
betook themselves to an island of the sea.

Now the news of what had passed was brought to the men of Ulster.
"'Tis pity, O Conor!" said they, "that the sons of Usnach should die in
the land of foes, for the sake of an evil woman.  It is better that
they should come under thy protection,[FN#42] and that the (fated)
slaying should be done here, and that they should come into their own
land, rather than that they should fall at the hands of foes."  "Let
them come to us then," said Conor, "and let men go as securities to
them."  The news was brought to them.


[FN#42]  Literally, "It is better their protection, and their slaying,
and coming for them to their own land, &c."  If this reading is right
(and three MSS. agree), the extended words of the text seem to give the
intention: it is, however, possible that the reading should be, "It is
better their protection than their slaying" (oldaas for ocus), which
would make sense at once.  The idea of the text seems to be that the
sons of Usnach were, owing to Cathbad's prophecy, thought of as fated
men; and it was only a question where they should be put to death.


"This is welcome news for us," they said; "we will indeed come, and let
Fergus come as our surety, and Dubhtach, and Cormac the son of Conor."
These then went to them, and they moved them to pass over the sea.

But at the contrivance of Conor, Fergus was pressed to join in an
ale-feast, while the sons of Usnach were pledged to eat no food in
Erin, until they had eaten the food of Conor.  So Fergus tarried behind
with Dubhtach and Cormac; and the sons of Usnach went on, accompanied
by Fiacha, Fergus' son; until they came to the meadows around Emain.

Now at that time Eogan the son of Durthacht had come to Emain to make
his peace with Conor, for they had for a long time been at enmity; and
to him, and to the warmen of Conor, the charge was given that they
should slay the sons of Usnach, in order that they should not come
before the king.  The sons of Usnach stood upon the level part of. the
meadows, and the women sat upon the ramparts of Emain.  And Eogan came
with his warriors across the meadow, and the son of Fergus took his
place by Naisi's side.  And Eogan greeted them with a mighty thrust of
his spear, and the spear brake Naisi's back in sunder, and passed
through it.  The son of Fergus made a spring, and he threw both arms
around Naisi, and he brought him beneath himself to shelter him, while
he threw himself down above him; and it was thus that Naisi was slain,
through the body of the son of Fergus.  Then there began a murder
throughout the meadow, so that none escaped who did not fall by the
points of the spears, or the edge of the sword, and Deirdre was brought
to Conor to be in his power, and her arms were bound behind her back.

Now the sureties who had remained behind, heard what had been done,
even Fergus and Dubhtach, and Cormac.  And thereon they hastened
forward, and they forthwith performed great deeds.  Dubhtach slew, with
the one thrust of his spear, Mane a son of Conor, and Fiachna the son
of Feidelm, Conor's daughter; and Fergus struck down Traigthren, the
son of Traiglethan, and his brother.  And Conor was wrath at this, and
he came to the fight with them; so that upon that day three hundred of
the men of Ulster fell and Dubhtach slew the women of Ulster; and, ere
the day dawned, Fergus set Emain on fire.  Then they went away into
exile, and betook them to the land of Connaught to find shelter with
Ailill and Maev, for they knew that that royal pair would give them
good entertainment.  To the men of Ulster the exiles showed no love:
three thousand stout men went with them; and for sixteen years never
did they allow cries of lamentation and of fear among the Ulstermen to
cease: each night their vengeful forays caused men to quake, and to
wail.

Deirdre lived on for a year in the household of Conor; and during all
that time she smiled no smile of laughter; she satisfied not herself
with food or with sleep, and she raised not her head from her knee.
And if any one brought before her people of mirth, she used to speak
thus:


Though eager troops, and fair to see,[FN#43]
May home return, though these ye wait:
When Usna's sons came home to me,
They came with more heroic state.

With hazel mead, my Naisi stood:
And near our fire his bath I'd pour;
On Aindle's stately back the wood;
On Ardan's ox, or goodly boar.

Though sweet that goodly mead ye think
That warlike Conor drinks in hall,
I oft have known a sweeter drink,
Where leaps in foam the waterfall:

Our board was spread beneath the tree,
And Naisi raised the cooking flame:
More sweet than honey-sauced to me
Was meat, prepared from Naisi's game.


[FN#43]  A literal rendering of this poem will be found in the notes,
p. 187.


Though well your horns may music blow,
Though sweet each month your pipes may sound,
I fearless say, that well I know
A sweeter strain I oft have found.

Though horns and pipes be sounding clear,
Though Conor's mind in these rejoice,
More magic strain, more sweet, more dear
Was Usna's Children's noble voice.

Like sound of wave, rolled Naisi's bass;
We'd hear him long, so sweet he sang:
And Ardan's voice took middle place;
And clearly Aindle's tenor rang.

Now Naisi lies within his tomb:
A sorry guard his friends supplied;
His kindred poured his cup of doom,
That poisoned cup, by which he died.

Ah! Berthan dear! thy lands are fair;
Thy men are proud, though hills be stern:
Alas! to-day I rise not there
To wait for Usna's sons' return.

That firm, just mind, so loved, alas!
The dear shy youth, with touch of scorn,
I loved with him through woods to pass,
And girding in the early morn.

When bent on foes, they boded ill,
Those dear grey eyes, that maids adored;
When, spent with toil, his troops lay still,
Through Irish woods his tenor soared.

For this it is, no more I sleep;
No more my nails with pink I stain:
No joy can break the watch I keep;
For Usna's sons come not again.

For half the night no sleep I find;
No couch can me to rest beguile:
'Mid crowds of thoughts still strays my mind;
I find no time to eat or smile.

In eastern Emain's proud array
No time to joy is left for me;
For gorgeous house, and garments gay,
Nor peace, nor joy, nor rest can be.


And when Conor sought to soothe her; thus Deirdre would answer him:


Ah Conor! what of thee! I naught can do!
Lament and sorrow on my life have passed:
The ill you fashioned lives my whole life through;
A little time your love for me would last.

The man to me most fair beneath the sky,
The man I loved, in death away you tore:
The crime you did was great; for, till I die,
That face I loved I never shall see more.

That he is gone is all my sorrow still;
Before me looms the shape of Usna's son;
Though o'er his body white is yon dark hill,
There's much I'd lavish, if but him I won.

I see his cheeks, with meadow's blush they glow;
Black as a beetle, runs his eyebrows' line;
His lips are red; and, white as noble snow
I see his teeth, like pearls they seem to shine.

Well have I known the splendid garb he bears,
Oft among Alba's warriors seen of old:
A crimson mantle, such as courtier wears,
And edged with border wrought of ruddy gold.

Of silk his tunic; great its costly price;
For full one hundred pearls thereon are sewn;
Stitched with findruine,[FN#44] bright with strange device,
Full fifty ounces weighed those threads alone.

Gold-hilted in his hand I see his sword;
Two spears he holds, with spear-heads grim and green;
Around his shield the yellow gold is poured,
And in its midst a silver boss is seen.

Fair Fergus ruin on us all hath brought!
We crossed the ocean, and to him gave heed:
His honour by a cup of ale was bought;
From him hath passed the fame of each high deed.

If Ulster on this plain were gathered here
Before king Conor; and those troops he'd give,
I'd lose them all, nor think the bargain dear,
If I with Naisi, Usna's son, could live.

Break not, O king, my heart to-day in me;
For soon, though young, I come my grave unto:
My grief is stronger than the strength of sea;
Thou, Conor, knowest well my word is true.


"Whom dost thou hate the most," said Conor, "of these whom thou now
seest?"

"Thee thyself," she answered, "and with thee Eogan the son of
Durthacht."


[FN#44]  Pronounced find-roony; usually translated "white bronze."


"Then," said Conor, "thou shalt dwell with Eogan for a year;" and he
gave Deirdre over into Eogan's hand.

Now upon the morrow they went away over the festal plain of Macha, and
Deirdre sat behind Eogan in the chariot; and the two who were with her
were the two men whom she would never willingly have seen together upon
the earth, and as she looked upon them, "Ha, Deirdre," said Conor, "it
is the same glance that a ewe gives when between two rams that thou
sharest now between me and Eogan!"  Now there was a great rock of stone
in front of them, and Deirdre struck her head upon that stone, and she
shattered her head, and so she died.

This then is the tale of the exile of the sons of Usnach, and of the
Exile of Fergus, and of the death of Deirdre.




THE LAMENT OF DEIRDRE OVER THE SONS OF USNACH



ACCORDING TO THE GLENN MASAIN VERSION

ALSO THE CONCLUSION OF THE TALE FROM THE SAME VERSION


I grieved not, Usna's sons beside;
But long, without them, lags the day:
Their royal sire no guest denied;
Three lions from Cave Hill were they.

Three dragons bred in Mona's fort
Are dead: to them from life I go;
Three chiefs who graced the Red Branch Court,
Three rocks, who broke the rush of foe.

O loved by many a British maid!
O swift as hawks round Gullion's peak!
True sons of king, who warriors swayed,
To whom bent chiefs in homage meek.

No vassal look those champions wore;
Full grief is mine that such should die!
Those sons, whom Cathbad's daughter bore;
Those props, who Cualgne's[FN#45] war held high.


[FN#45]  Pronounced Kell-ny.


Three bears of might, to war they came;
From Oona's walls, like lions, burst;
Three hero-chiefs, who loved their fame;
Three sons, on Ulster's bosom nursed.

Twas Aife[FN#46] reared them; 'neath her yoke
A kingdom bowed, and tribute brought;
They propped the war, when armies broke,
Those foster-sons, whom Scathach[FN#47] taught.

The Three, who once from Bohvan's skill
All feats have learned that heroes know;
King Usna's glorious sons! 'tis ill
That these afar from me should go.

That I should live, with Naisi dead,
Let none such shame believe of me;
When Ardan's life, when Ainnle's fled,
But short my life I knew would be.

Great Ulster's king my hand had won;
I left him, Naisi's love to find;
Till Naisi's funeral rites be done,
I wait a little while behind.

This widowed life no more I'll bear;
The Three rejoiced, when toil they faced;
Where'er 'twas found, the war they'd dare,
And proffered fight with joy embraced.

A curse on Cathbad's wizard spell!
'Twas Naisi's death! and I the cause!
None came to aid that king, who well
To all the world might grant his laws.


[FN#46]  Pronounced Eefa.

[FN#47]  Pronounced Ska-ha.


O man, who diggest low the grave,
And from my sight my love would hide,
Make wide the tomb; its room I crave,
I come to seek my hero's side.

Great load of hardship I'd endure with joy,
If yet those heroes my companions were;
No lack of house or fire could then annoy,
No gloom I'd know with them, nor aught of care.

Ah! many a time each shield and guardian spear
To make my couch have piled those noble Three:
O labouring man, their grave who diggest here,
Their hardened swords above well set should be.

The hounds of all the Three their masters lack,
Their hawks no quarry leave, nor hear their call;
The three are dead, who battle's line held back
Who learned their skill in Conall Cernach's hall!

Their hounds I view; from out my heart that sight
Hath struck a groan; behind their leashes trail,
'Twas mine to hold them once, and keep them tight;,
Now slack they lie, and cause me thus to wail.

Oft in the desert I and they have strayed,
Yet never lonely was that desert known
For all the Three a grave to-day is made,
And here I sit, and feel indeed alone.

I gazed on Naisi's grave, and now am blind,
For naught remains to see; the worst is spent;
My soul must leave me soon, no help I find,
And they are gone, the folk of my lament.

'Twas guile that crushed them: they would save my life
And died therefor; themselves three billows strong:
Ere Usna's children fell in cruel strife,
Would I had died, and earth had held me long!

To Red-Branch Hall we made our mournful way;
Deceitful Fergus led; our lives he stole;
A soft sweet speech indeed he'd learned to say,
For me, for them was ruin near that goal.

All Ulster's pleasures now are nothing worth
I shun them all, each chief, each ancient friend;
Alone I sit, as left behind on earth,
And soon my lonely life in death shall end.

I am Deirdre, the joyless,
For short time alive,
Though to end life be evil,
'Tis worse to survive.


And, after she had made this lament, Deirdre seated herself in the
tomb, and she gave three kisses to Naisi before that he was laid in his
grave; and with heaviness and grief Cuchulain went on to Dun Delga.
And Cathbad the Druid laid a curse upon Emain Macha to take vengeance
for that great evil, and he said that, since that treachery had been
done, neither king Conor nor any other of his race should hold that
burg.

And as for Fergus, the son of Rossa the Red, he came to Emain Macha on
the morrow after the sons of Usnach had been slain.  And, when he found
that they had been slain, and that his pledge had been dishonoured, he
himself, and Cormac the Partner of Exile, king Conor's own son, also
Dubhtach, the Beetle of Ulster, and the armies they had with them, gave
battle to the household of Conor; and they slew Maine the son of Conor,
and three hundred of Conor's people besides.  And Emain Macha was
destroyed, and burned by them, and Conor's women were slain, and they
collected their adherents on every side; the number of their host was
three thousand warriors.  And they went away to the land of Connaught,
even to Ailill the Great, who was the king of Connaught at that time,
and to Maev of Croghan, and with them they found a welcome and support.
 Moreover Fergus and Cormac the Partner of Exile and their warriors,
after that they had come to the land of Connaught, never let pass one
single night wherein reavers went not forth from them to harry and burn
the land of Ulster, so that the district which men to-day call the land
of Cualgne was subdued by them; and from that in the after-time came
between the two kingdoms much of trouble and theft; and in this fashion
they spent seven years, or, as some say, ten years; nor was there any
truce between them, no, not for one single hour.

And while those deeds were doing, Deirdre abode by Conor in his
household for a whole year after the sons of Usnach had been slain.
And, though it might have seemed but a small thing for her to raise her
head, or to let laughter flow over her lips, yet she never did these
things during all that time.  And when Conor saw that neither sport nor
kindness could hold her; and that neither jesting nor pleasing honour
could raise her spirits, he sent word to Eogan the son of Durthacht,
the lord of Fernmay;[FN#48] as some tell the story, it was this Eogan
who had slain Naisi in Emain Macha.  And after that Eogan had come to
the place where Conor was, Conor gave command to Deirdre that, since he
himself had failed to turn her heart from her grief, she must depart to
Eogan, and spend another space of time with him.  And with that she was
placed behind Eogan in his chariot, and Conor went also in the chariot
in order to deliver Deirdre into Eogan's hand.  And as they went on
their way, she cast a fierce glance at Eogan in front of her, and
another at Conor behind her; for there was nothing in all the world
that she hated more than those two men.  And when Conor saw this, as he
looked at her and at Eogan, he said: "Ah Deirdre! it is the glance of a
ewe when set between two rams that thou castest on me and on Eogan!"
And when Deirdre heard that, she sprang up, and she made a leap out of
the chariot, and she struck her head against the stony rocks that were
in front of her, and she shattered her head so that the brains leapt
out, and thus came to Deirdre her death.


[FN#48]  The Irish is Fernmag; written Fearnmhuidh in the late
manuscript of this part of the tale.


This is the Tree of their race, and an account of the kinships of some
of the Champions of the Red Branch, which is given here before we
proceed to speak of the Deeds of Cuchulain:


'Twas Cathbad first won Magach's love, and arms around her threw;
From Maelchro's loins, the Battle Chief, his princely source he drew;
Two, more in love she knew, of these the wrath was long and dread,
Fierce Rossa, named the Ruddy-Faced, and Carbre, thatched with red.

To all the three were children born, and all with beauty graced,
To Cathbad, and to Carbre Red, and Rossa Ruddy-faced;
A gracious three indeed were they to whom she gave her love,
Fair Magach, brown the lashes were that slept her eyes above.

Three sons to Rossa Ruddy-faced as children Magach bore;
To Carbre sons again she gave, the count of these was four;
And three white shoots of grace were hers, on these no shame shall fall;
To Cathbad children three she bare, and these were daughters all.

To Cathbad, who in wizard lore and all its arts had might,
Three daughters lovely Magach bore, each clothed in beauty white;
All maids who then for grace were famed in grace those maids surpassed,
And Finuchoem,[FN#49] Ailbhe twain he named, and Deithchim named the
last.


[FN#49]  Pronounced Finn-hoom, Ail-vy, and Die-himm.


To Finnchoem, wizard Cathbad's child, was born a glorious son,
And well she nursed him, Conall wild, who every field hath won;
And Ailbhe glorious children bare in whom no fear had place,
These Ardan, Ainnle, Naisi were, who came of Usnach's race.

A son to Deithchim fair was born, a bright-cheeked mother she;
She bore but one: Cuchulain of Dun Delga's hold was he:
Of those whom Cathbad's daughters reared the names full well ye know,
And none of these a wound hath feared, or therefore shunned a foe.

The sons of Usnach, who like shields their friends protected well,
By might of hosts on battle-field to death were borne, and fell;
And each was white of skin, and each his friends in love would hold,
Now naught remains for song to teach, the Third of Griefs is told.




THE COMBAT AT THE FORD



INTRODUCTION


This version of the "Combat at the Ford," the best-known episode of the
Irish romance or romantic epic, the "War of Cualnge," will hardly be,
by Irish scholars, considered to want a reference.  It is given in the
Book of Leinster, which cannot have been written later than 1150 A.D.,
and differs in many respects from the version in the fourteenth-century
Book of Lecan, which is, for the purposes of this text, at least equal
in authority to the Leabbar na h-Uidhri, which must have been written
before 1100 A.D.  Mr. Alfred Nutt has kindly contributed a note on the
comparison of the two versions, which has been placed as a special note
at the end of the translation of the "Combat."  To this note may be
added the remark that the whole of the Leabhar na h-Uidhri version of
the "War of Cualnge" seems, to be subject to the same criticisms that
have to be passed on the "Sickbed" and the "Courtship of Etain" in the
same volume, viz. that it is a compilation from two or three different
versions of the same story, and is not a connected and consistent
romance, which the version in the Book of Leinster appears to be.  As
an illustration of this, the appearance of Conall Cernach as on the
side of Connaught in the early part of the L.U. version may be
mentioned; he is never so represented in other versions of the "War."
In the description of the array of Ulster at the end of L.U., he is
noted as being expected to be with the Ulster army but as absent
(following in this the Book of Leinster, but not a later manuscript
which agrees with the Book of Leinster in the main); then at the end of
the L.U. version Conall again appears in the Connaught army and saves
Conor from Fergus, taking the place of Cormac in the Book of Leinster
version.  Miss Faraday, in her version of the "War" as given in L.U.,
notes the change of style at page 82 of her book.  Several difficulties
similar to that of the position of Conall could be mentioned; and on
the whole it seems as if the compiler of the manuscript from which both
the Leabhar na h-Uidhri and the Yellow Book of Lecan were copied,
combined into one several different descriptions of the "War," one of
which is represented by the Book of Leinster version.

This version shows no signs of patchwork, at any rate in the story of
the "Combat at the Ford;" which has, ever since it was reintroduced to
the world by O'Curry, been renowned for the chivalry of its action.  It
forms one of the books of Aubrey de Vere's "Foray of Queen Meave," and
is there well reproduced, although with several additions; perhaps
sufficient attention has not. been paid to the lofty position of the
character, as distinguished from the prowess, that this version gives
to Cuchulain.  The first verse, put in Cuchulain's mouth, strikes a new
note, contrasting alike with the muddle-headed bargaining of Ferdia and
Maev, and the somewhat fussy anxiety of Fergus.  The contrast between
the way in which Cuchulain receives Fergus's report of the valour of
Ferdia, and that in which Ferdia receives the praises of Cuchulain from
his charioteer, is well worked out; Cuchulain, conscious of his own
strength, accepts all Fergus's praises of his opponent and adds to
them; Ferdia cannot bear to hear of Cuchulain's valour, and charges his
servant with taking a bribe from his enemy in order to frighten him.
Ferdia boasts loudly of what he will do, Cuchulain apologises for his
own confidence in the issue of the combat, and gently banters Fergus,
who is a bit of a boaster himself, on the care he had taken to choose
the time for the war when king Conor was away, with a modest
implication that he himself was a poor substitute for the king.
Cuchulain's first two stanzas in the opening dialogue between himself
and Ferdia show a spirit quite as truculent as that of his opponent;
the reason of this being, as indicated in the first of these stanzas
and more explicitly stated in the preceding prose, that his anxiety for
his country is outweighing his feeling for his friend; but in the third
stanza he resumes the attitude of conscious strength that marks all his
answers to Fergus; and this, added to a feeling of pity for his
friend's inevitable fate, is maintained up to the end of the tale.  In
the fourth stanza, which is an answer to a most insulting speech from
Ferdia, he makes the first of those appeals to his former friend to
abandon his purpose that come from him throughout the first three days
of the fight; even in the fatal battle of the fourth day, he will not
at first put forward all his strength, and only uses the irresistible
Gae-Bulg when driven to it by his foe.  The number of Cuchulain's
laments after the battle--there are five of these (one in prose),
besides his answers to Laeg--has been adversely criticised; and it is
just possible that one or more of these come from some other version,
and have been incorporated by a later hand than that of the author; but
the only one that seems to me not to develop the interest is the
"brooch of gold," which it may be noticed is very like the only lament
which is preserved in the Book of Lecan text of the L.U. version.
Cuchulain's allusion to Aife's only son in the first verse lament is
especially noticeable (see note, p. 196).

Ferdia's character, although everywhere inferior to that of his victor,
is also a heroic one; he is represented at the commencement of the
episode as undertaking the fight for fear of disgrace if he refused;
and this does appear to be represented throughout as the true reason;
his early boasts and taunts are obviously intended to conquer a secret
uneasiness, and the motif of a passion for Finnabar with which
Cuchulain charges him hardly appears outside Cuchulain's speeches, and
has not the importance given to it in the Leabhar na h-Uidhri version.
The motif of resentment against Cuchulain for a fancied insult,
invented by Maev, which is given in the L.U. version as the determining
cause, does not appear in the Leinster version at all; and that of race
enmity of the Firbolg against the Celt, given to him by Aubrey de Vere,
is quite a modern idea and is in none of the old versions.  His
dialogue with Maev suggests that, as stated in the text, he was then
slightly intoxicated; his savage language to his servant gives the idea
of a man who feels himself in the wrong and makes himself out to be
worse than he is by attributing to himself the worst motives, the hope
of pay; but as the battle proceeds he shows himself equal to Cuchulain
in generosity, and in the dialogue at the beginning of the third day's
fight his higher character comes out, for while his old boastfulness
appears in one passage of it, and is immediately repressed, the
language of both heroes in this dialogue is noticeable for a true
spirit of chivalry.  The mutual compliments, "thy kingly might," "fair
graceful Hound" "gently ruling Hound" recall the French "Beausire"; it
may be also noted that these compliments are paid even when Ferdia is
protesting against Cuchulain's reproaches; similar language is used
elsewhere, as "much thine arms excel" (page 122), and "Cuchulain for
beautiful feats renowned" (page 134).  It may be considered that these
passages are an indication that the episode is late, but it should be
noticed that the very latest date that can possibly be assigned to it,
the eleventh century, precedes that of all other known romances of
chivalry by at least a hundred years.  To this later attitude of
Ferdia, and to that maintained by Cuchulain throughout the whole
episode, nothing in French or Welsh romance of approximately so early a
date can be compared.  Is it not possible that the chivalric tone of
the later Welsh romances, like the "Lady of the Fountain," which is
generally supposed to have come from France, really came from an Irish
model? and that this tone, together with the Arthurian Saga, passed to
the Continent?

A great contrast to both the two heroes is afforded by the introduction
of Laeg with his cries of exultation, which come between the dying
groans of Ferdia and the fine prose lament of Cuchulain, increasing the
effect of both.  Laeg seems quite unable to see his master's point of
view, and he serves as a foil for Ferdia, just as the latter's
inferiority increases the character of Cuchulain.  The consistency of
the whole, and the way in which our sympathy is awakened for Ferdia
contrast with the somewhat disconnected character of the L.U. version,
which as it stands gives a poor idea of the defeated champion;
although, as Mr. Nutt suggests, the lost part may have improved this
idea, and the version has beauties of its own.

For the convenience of those readers who may be unacquainted with the
story of the war, the following short introduction is given:--

At a time given by the oldest Irish annalists as A.D. 29, the War of
Cualnge was undertaken by Maev, queen of Connaught, against the kingdom
or province of Ulster.  Gathering together men from all the other four
provinces of Ireland, Maev marched against Ulster, the leaders of her
army being herself, her husband Ailill, and Fergus the son of Rog, an
exile from Ulster, and formerly, according to one account, king of that
province.  Not only had Maev great superiority in force, but the time
she Ed chosen for the war was when Conor, king of Ulster, and with him
nearly all his principal warriors, were on their sick-bed in accordance
with a curse that had fallen on them in return for a cruel deed that he
and his people had done.  One hero however, Cuchulain, the greatest of
the Ulster heroes, was unaffected by this curse; and he, with only a
few followers, but with supernatural aid from demi-gods of whose race
he came, had caused much loss to the queen and her army, so that Maev
finally made this compact: she was each day to provide a champion to
oppose Cuchulain, and was to be permitted to advance so long as that
combat lasted; if her champion was killed, she was to halt her army
until the next morning.  Before the Combat at the Ford between
Cuchulain and Ferdia, Cuchulain had killed many of Maev's champions in
duel, and the epic romance of the "War of Cualnge" gives the full story
of these combats and of the end of the war.  The episode given in the
following pages commences at the camp of Queen Maev, where her chiefs
are discussing who is to be their champion against Cuchulain on the
following day.




THE COMBAT AT THE FORD



AN EPISODE OF THE CATTLE SPOIL OF CUALNGE IN THE BOOK OF LEINSTER
VERSION


At that time debate was held among the men of Ireland who should be the
man to go early in the morning of the following day to make combat and
fight with Cuchulain.  And all agreed that Ferdia, the son of Daman,
the son of Dire, was the man who should go; even the great and valiant
champion of the men of Irross Donnand, for the manner in which he
fought and did battle was like to the manner of Cuchulain.  They had
got their skill in arms, and valour, and bravery from the same
teachers, from Scathach, from Uathach, and from Aife[FN#50]; nor had
either of them advantage over the other except that Cuchulain alone
could perform the feat of the Gae-bulg.  Yet Ferdia was fenced by a
horny skin-protecting armour, and this should guard him when he faced a
hero in battle and combat at the Ford.  So to Ferdia were sent
messengers and heralds; but Ferdia denied the heralds, and he refused
to depart with them, for well he knew why it was he was called; even to
fight against his own friend, his comrade and fellow-pupil Cuchulain;
and for that cause he came not with the heralds who were sent.


[FN#50]  Pronounced Scaha, Ooha, and Eefa: Scaha and Ooha end with a
slight guttural like the ch in the Scotch lock, difficult to express in
English.


And then did Maev send to Ferdia Druids, and satirists and revilers, in
order that against him should be made three crushing reproaches, and
three satires; that the stains of shame, and of blemish, and of
disgrace should be raised on his face; so that even if he died not at
once, death should be his within the space of nine days if he went with
them not.  And for the sake of his honour, Ferdia came at their call;
for to him it was better to fall before the shafts of valour, of
bravery, and of daring than by the stings of satire, of abuse, and of
reproach.  And he, when he arrived, was received with all worship and
service, and was served with pleasant, sweet intoxicating liquor, so
that his brain reeled, and he became gently merry.  And these were the
great rewards that were promised to him if he consented to make that
combat and fight: a chariot of the value of four times seven cumals,
and the equipment of twelve men with garments of all colours, and the
length and breadth of his own territory on the choice part of the
plains of Maw Ay; free of tribute, without purchase, free from the
incidents of attendance at courts and of military service, that therein
his son, and his grandson, and all his descendants might dwell in
safety to the end of life and time; also Finnabar the daughter of Maev
as his wedded wife, and the golden brooch which was in the cloak of
Queen Maev in addition to all this.  And thus ran the speech of Maev,
and she spake these words, and thus did Ferdia reply:


Maev

Of rings great treasure sending,[FN#51]
Wide plains and woodlands bending
I grant: till time hath ending
I free thy tribe and kin.
O thou who oft o'ercamest!
'Tis thine what gift thou namest!
Why hold'st thou back, nor claimest
A boon that all would win?


[FN#51]  The metre of this dialogue and rhyme-system are taken from the
Irish but one syllable has been added to each line. The exact Irish
metre is that given on page 129.


Ferdia

A bond must hold thee tightly,
No force I lend thee lightly;
Dread strife 'twill be; for rightly
He bears that name of "Hound."
For sharp spear-combat breaketh
That morn; hard toil it waketh
The war Cuchulain maketh
Shall fearless war be found.


Maev

Our chiefs, with oaths the gravest,
Shall give the pledge thou cravest;
For thee, of all men bravest,
Brave bridled steeds shall stand.
From tax my word hath freed thee,
To hostings none shall lead thee,
As bosom friend I need thee,
As first in all the land.


Ferdia

Mere words are naught availing
If oaths to bind be failing;
That wondrous Ford-Fight hailing,
All time its tale shall greet:
Though sun, moon, sea for ever
And earth from me I sever;
Though death I win--yet never,
Unpledged, that war I'll meet.


Maev

These kings and chiefs behind me
Their oaths shall pledge to bind me:
With boundless wealth thou'lt find me,
With wealth too great to pay.
'Tis thou who oaths delayest;
'Tis done whate'er thou sayest;
For well I know thou slayest
The foe who comes to slay.


Ferdia

Ere thou to slaughter lure me,
Six champions' oaths procure me;
Till these rewards assure me
I meet, for thee, no foe:
If six thou grant as gages,
I'll face the war he wages,
And where Cuchulain rages,
A lesser chief, I go.


Maev

In chariots Donnal raceth,
Fierce strife wild Neeman faceth,
Their halls the bards' song graceth,
Yet these in troth I bind.
Firm pledge Morand is making,
None Carpri Min knew breaking
His troth: thine oath he's taking;
Two sons to pledge I find.


Ferdia

Much poison, Maev, inflameth
Thy heart; no smile thee tameth
But well the land thee nameth
Proud queen of Croghan's hold;
Thy power no man can measure;
'Tis I will do thy pleasure;
Now send thy silken treasure,
Thy silver gifts, and gold.


Maev

This brooch, as champion's token,
I give of troth unbroken;
All words my lips have spoken
Performed shall Sunday see.
Thou glorious chief, who darest
This fight, I give thee rarest
Of gifts on earth, and fairest,
Yea greater meed shall be.
For Findabar my daughter;
All Elgga's chiefs have sought her;
When thou that Hound shalt slaughter,
I give in love to thee.


And then did Maev bind Ferdia in an easy task; that on the next day he
was to come to combat and fight with six of her champions, or to make
duel against Cuchulain; whichever of the two he should think the
easier.  And Ferdia on his side bound her by a condition that seemed to
him easy for her to fulfil: even that she should lay it upon those same
six champions to see to it that all those things she had promised to
him should be fulfilled, in case Cuchulain should meet death at
Ferdia's hand.

Thereupon Fergus caused men to harness for him his horses, and his
chariot was yoked, and he went to that place where Cuchulain was that
he might tell him what had passed, and Cuchulain bade him welcome.  I
am rejoiced at your coming, O my good friend Fergus," said Cuchulain.
And I gladly accept thy welcome, O my pupil," said Fergus.  But I have
now come hither in order to tell thee who that man is who comes to
combat and fight with thee early on the morning of the day which is at
hand."  "We shall give all heed to thy words," said Cuchulain.  "'Tis
thine own friend," said Fergus, "thy companion, and thy fellow pupil;
thine equal in feats and in deeds and in valour: even Ferdia, the son
of Daman, the son of Dare, the great and valiant champion of the men of
Irross Donnan."  "Truly," said Cuchulain, "I make mine oath to thee
that I am sorry that my friend should come to such a duel."
"Therefore," said Fergus, "it behoves thee to be wary and prepared, for
unlike to all those men who have come to combat and fight with thee
upon the Tain be Cuailgne is Ferdia, the son of Daman, the son of
Dare."  "I have stood here," said Cuchulain, "detaining and delaying
the men of the four great provinces of Ireland since the first Monday
in Samhain (November) till the beginning of the spring, and not one
foot have I gone back before any one man during all that time, nor
shall I, as I trust, yield before him."  And in this manner did Fergus
continue to put him on his guard, and these were the words that he
spoke, and thus did Cuchulain reply:


Fergus

Rise, Cuchulain! foes are near,[FN#52]
All their covenant is clear;
Daman's ruddy son in rage
Comes the war with thee to wage.


[FN#52]  The metre is that of the Irish; a literal rendering of the
whole dialogue is given in the notes, p. 191.


Cuchulain

Here I stand, whose valiant toil
Erin's bands held back from spoil;
Never a foot of ground they won,
Never a foe they found me shun.


Fergus

Fierce is he in rage; his trust
In his blade's deep searching thrust:
Plates of horn protect his side,
Pierced by none his strength who tried.


Cuchulain

Fergus, much thine arms excel;
Cease, this tale no longer tell
Land is none, nor battle-field
Where to his my strength must yield.


Fergus

He is fierce, with scores can fight,
Spear nor sword can on him bite;
From that strength, a hundred's match,
Hard 'twill be the prize to snatch.


Cuchulain

Yea! Ferdia's power I know;
How from foughten field we go;
How was fought our piercing war,
Bards shall tell to ages far.


Fergus

Loss of much I'd little mourn
Could I hear how, eastward borne,
Great Cuchulain's bloody blade
Proud Ferdia's spoils displayed.


Cuchulain

Though in boasts I count me weak,
Hear me now as braggart speak:
Daman's son, of Darry's race,
Soon shall I, his victor, face.


Fergus

Brought by me, hosts eastward came,
Ulster sought to hurt my fame;
Here have come, to ease my grief,
Many a champion, many a chief.


Cuchulain

Sickness Conor's might withheld,
Else his sight thy host had quelled;
Less the shouts of joy had been,
Raised by Maev, Maw Scayl's high queen.


Fergus

Greater deeds than done by me
O Cuchulain! thine shall be:
Daman's son thy battle nears;
Hear thy friend! keep hard thy spears.


Then Fergus returned to where the army was encamped: Ferdia, also went
from Maev and came to his own tent; and there he found his followers,
and he told them how he had been bound to Maev as in an easy task, that
he was on the morrow to combat and fight with six of her champions, or
to make duel with Cuchulain, whichever of the two he might think the
easier.  Also he told them how she had been bound by a condition that
was easy for her to grant: that she should lay it on these same six
champions to see that her promises to him of rewards should be
fulfilled in case Cuchulain met his death at Ferdia's hand.

There was no cheerfulness, or happiness, or even melancholy pleasure
among the inmates of Ferdia's camp that night: they were all cheerless,
and sorrowful, and low in spirit; for they knew that whenever those two
champions, those two slayers of hundreds met, one of the two must fall
in that place, or that both of them should fall: and if one only was to
fall they were sure that that one would be their own master; for it was
not easy for any man to combat and fight with Cuchulain on the Tain bo
Cuailnge.

Now the first part of that night Ferdia slept very heavily, and when
the middle of the night had come his sleep had left him, and the
dizziness of his brain has passed away, and care for the combat and the
fight pressed heavily upon him.  Then he called for his charioteer to
harness his horses, and to yoke his chariot; and the charioteer began
to rebuke him, if haply he might turn him from his purpose.  "It would
be better for thee to stay!" said the charioteer.  "Be thou silent, O
my servant!" said Ferdia, and he then spoke the words that follow, and
thus did his servant reply to him:--


Ferdia

'Tis a challenge provoking
To war, and I go
Where the ravens' hoarse croaking
Shall rise for my foe:
With Cuchulain still seeking
The strife at yon ford;
Till his strong body, reeking,
Be pierced by my sword!


Servant

Nay, thy threats show no meekness;
Yet here thou should'st stay;
For on thee shall come weakness,
Woe waits on thy way:
For by Ulster's Rock broken
This battle may be,
And it long shall be spoken
How ill 'twas to thee.


Ferdia

An ill word art thou saying;
It fits not our race
That a champion, delaying
From fight, should thee grace.
Then thy speech, my friend, fetter,
No foe will we fear;
But, since valour is better,
His challenge we near.


Then Ferdia's horses were harnessed for him, and his chariot was yoked,
and he came forward to the ford of battle; but when he had come there
he found that the full light of the day had not yet dawned, and "O my
servant!" said Ferdia, "spread out for me the cushions and skins that
are upon my chariot, that I may rest upon them till I take the deep
repose of refreshing sleep, for during the latter part of this night
have I taken no rest, on account of the care that I had for this combat
and fight."  And the servant unharnessed his horses, and he placed
together the cushions and the skins that were upon the chariot, so that
Ferdia might rest upon them, and he sank into the deep repose of
refreshing sleep.

Now in this place I will tell of the acts of Cuchulain.  He rose not at
all from his couch until the full light of the day; and this he did in
order that the men of Ireland should not be able to say that it was
from fear or from dread that he rose, if it had been early that he had
arisen.  And when the full daylight had come, he commanded his
charioteer to harness for him his horses, and to yoke his chariot: "O
my servant!" said Cuchulain, "harness for us our horses, and put the
yoke to our chariot, for early rises the champion who cometh to meet us
this day: even Ferdia, the son of Daman, the son of Dare."  "The horses
are harnessed," said the charioteer, "and the chariot is yoked; step
thou into it, for it will bring no shame on thy valour."  Then did
Cuchulain, the fighter of battles, the skilful in feats, the winner of
victory, that red-sworded hero, the son of Sualtam, leap into his
chariot.  All around him screamed the Bocanachs, and the Bananachs, and
the wild people of the glens, and the demons of the air; for it was the
custom of the people of the wizard race of Danu to raise their cries
about him in every battle, on every stricken field, in every duel, and
in every fight to which he went, that thereby in such fight the hatred,
and the fear, and the avoidance, and the terror that men felt for him
should be increased.  In no short time the charioteer of Ferdia heard
the roar of Cuchulain's approach; the clamour, and the hissing, and the
tramp; and the thunder, and the clatter, and the buzz: for he heard the
shields that were used as missiles clank together as they touched; and
he heard the spears hiss, and the swords clash, and the helmet tinkle,
and the armour ring; and the arms sawed one against the other, and the
javelins swung, and the ropes strained, and the wheels of the chariot
clattered, and the chariot creaked, and the hoofs of the horses
trampled on the ground as that warrior and champion came forward in
triumph to the ford, and approached him.

Then that servant of Ferdia arose, and he placed his hand upon his
lord: "Arise now, O Ferdia!" said the servant, "for here they come
towards thee, even to the Ford;" and this was the speech of the driver
of the chariot of Ferdia as he stood before him:


Lo! a chariot yoked with silver, creaking loud, draws nigh;[FN#53]
O'er the chariot-wheels a man his perfect form rears high:
The warlike car
Rolls on from far
Braeg Ross, from Braina's bounds;
Past that burg they ride whose wooded side the roadway rounds;
For its triumphs high in triumph cry its song resounds.


[FN#53]  For a literal translation of the above poem and another
rendering, see the notes.


Urged by hero-Hound, and yoked by charioteer's hand true,
Flies the war-car southward ever; nobler hawk ne'er flew
Than he who speeds
His rushing steeds,
That chief of stubborn might;
Soon the blood to flow from slaughtered foe shall meet his sight;
Sure for us 'tis ill, for soon with skill he gives us fight.

Woe to him who here on hillock stands, that Hound to wait;
Emain Macha's perfect Hound is he, foretold by fate:
Last year I cried
That him I spied
Who guards his land from foe:
That battle-Hound, on whom are found all hues to glow:
'Twas then from far I heard that car: its sound I know.


"O my servant!" said Ferdia, "wherefore is it: that thou hast continued
in thy praise of this man ever since the time that I left my tent?
surely it must be a reward that thou seekest at his hand, so greatly
dost thou extol him; yet Ailill and Maev have foretold that it is by me
he shall fall.  Certain it is that for sake of the fee I shall gain he
shall be slain quickly; and 'tis full time that the relief that we wait
for should come."  Thus then it was that in that place he spoke these
words, and thus did his servant reply:


Ferdia

'Tis time that I grant my assistance!
Be still: let thy praise of him sink:
Peer not, like a seer, at the distance;
Wilt fail me on battle-field's brink?
Though Cualgne's proud champion, displaying
His gambols and pride thou dost see;
Full soon shalt thou witness his slaying
For price to be paid down to me.


Servant

If he who this glory is showing
Be champion of Cualgne indeed;
'Tis not in retreat he is going;
To meet us he cometh with speed:
He comes, nor 'tis slowly he blunders,
Like wind his swift journey he makes;
As stream, from the cliff-top that thunders;
As bolt, from the storm-cloud that breaks.


Ferdia

'Tis pay at his hand thou hast taken,
So loudly resoundeth thy praise;
Else why, since our tent was forsaken,
Hast sung with such frequence thy lays?
Men, like thou, who, when foes are appearing,
Would to chant the foe's praises begin,
Will attack not, when battle is nearing,
But the name of base cowards shall win.


Now the charioteer of Ferdia was not long in that place before he saw a
marvellous sight; for before his eyes came the beautiful five-pointed,
four-peaked chariot, skilfully driven with swiftness and power.  A
canopy of green overspread it; thin and well-seasoned was the body of
it; lofty and long were the spears that adorned it; well was it
fashioned for war.  Under the yokes of that chariot sped forward with
great bounds two great-eared, savage, and prancing steeds; bellies had
they like whales, broad were their chests, and quick-panting their
hearts; their flanks were high, and their hoofs wide; their pasterns
fine, their loins broad, and their spirits untamable.  The horse under
one of the yokes was grey, with a long mane and with broad hind
quarters; swiftly he galloped, and his leaps were great; the horse
beneath the other yoke was black, his mane was in tufts, his back was
broad, and eager was his pace.  As a hawk, on a day when the wind
bloweth hard, darts up from the furrow; as the gusts of the wind in
spring sweep forward over a smooth plain upon a day in March; swift as
a going stag at the beginning of the chase, after he hath been roused
by the cry of the hounds; such was the pace of the two steeds that bore
forward Cuchulain and his chariot, touching upon the soil as rapidly as
if the stones that they trod on were hot with the fire, so that the
whole earth trembled and shook at the violence of their going.  And
Cuchulain reached the ford, and Ferdia awaited him on the south side of
it, and Cuchulain halted his horses upon the north.

Then did Ferdia bid welcome to Cuchulain: "O Cuchulain!" said Ferdia, I
rejoice to see thine approach."  "Thy welcome would have been received
by me upon an earlier day," said Cuchulain, "but this day I cannot
receive it as one from a friend.  And Ferdia," said he, "it were more
suitable that it was I who bade welcome to thee rather than that thou
shouldest welcome me; for out in flight before thee are my women, and
my children; my youths, and my steeds, and my mares; my flocks, and my
herds, and my cattle."  "Ah, Cuchulain!" said Ferdia, "how hast thou
been persuaded to come to this fight and this battle at all? For when
we were with Scathach, with Uathach, and with Aife, thou wert mine
attendant; thine was the office to whet my spears, and to make ready my
couch."  "'Tis true indeed," said Cuchulain, "but it was then as thy
younger in years and in standing that it was my custom to perform this
office for thee; and that is not my quality to-day; for now there is
not in all the world any champion with whom I would refuse to fight."
And then each of them reproached the other bitterly with breach of
friendship, and there Ferdia spoke the words which here follow, and
thus did Cuchulain reply:


Ferdia

Hound! why hither faring,[FN#54]
Strife with strong ones daring?
As if home were flaring,
Woe shall come on thee!
Blood from out thee draining
Shall thy steeds be staining;
Thou, thy home if gaining,
Wounded sore shalt be.


[FN#54]  The metre is that of the Irish.


Cuchulain

Hot with indignation,
Take I battle-station,
Face yon warrior nation,
Round their warlike king:
They shall see me meet thee,
Count the strifes that greet thee,
Watch, as down I beat thee,
Drowning, suffering.


Ferdia

Here is one to shame thee;
How 'twas I o'ercame thee,
They who champion name thee
Long the tale shall tell.
Ulster, near thee lying,
Soon shall see thee dying;
All shall say, with sighing,
Theirs the chief who fell.


Cuchulain

Thine shall be the choosing;
Say, what warfare using
Hosts shall see thee losing
At the Ford this fight?
Swords dost choose, hard-clashing
Cars, in conflict crashing?
Spears, thy life-blood splashing?
'Tis thy death in sight.


Ferdia

Ere the twilight gleameth,
Red thy life-blood streameth:
Small thy stature seemeth,
Like a cliff thy foe.
Ulster's hosts who prated,
And thy pride inflated;
Through them feel thy hated
Spectre sadly go.


Cuchulain

Down a chasm appalling
Thou to death art falling;
One thy foe: yet galling
Weapons press thee sore.
Proud thou wert but lately,
Strife shall change thee greatly,
Thee as champion stately
Earth shall know no more.


Ferdia

Cease this endless vaunting,
Speech for ever flaunting,
Thou a chief! a taunting,
Giggling child thou art.
None would pay, or fee thee,
I as coward see thee;
Strength hast none to free thee,
Caged bird! quaking heart!


Cuchulain

Ah! in bygone story
We, as peers in glory,
Sports and combats gory
Shared when Scaha taught:
Thou, of all who nearest
To my soul appearest!
Clansman! kinsman dearest!
Woe thy fate hath brought!


Ferdia

Naught this strife avails thee,
Glory fades, and fails thee;
Cock-crow loudly hails thee,
High on stake thy head!
Cualgne's[FN#55] Hound, Cuchulain!
Faults thy soul bear rule in:
Thee to bitter schooling
Frantic grief hath led.


[FN#55]  Pronounced Kell-ny.

"O my friend Ferdia!" said Cuchulain, "it was not right for thee to
have come to the combat and the fight with me, at the instigation and
the meddling of Ailill and Maev: none of those who came before thee
have gained for themselves victory or success, and they all fell at my
hand; neither shalt thou win victory or success from this battle, by me
shalt thou fall."  And it was in this manner that he was speaking, and
he recited these words, and Ferdia hearkened to him:


Come not near, thou powerful man![FN#56]
O Ferdia mac Daman:
Worst of woe on thee is hurled,
Though thy fate shall grieve the world.


[FN#56]  The metre is that of the Irish.


Come not near, nor right forget
In my hand thy fate is set:
Those recall, whom late I fought,
Hath their fall no wisdom taught?

Thou for gifts wert passed in sale,
Purple sash, firm coat of mail;
Never maid, O Daman's son!
In this war of thine is won.

Findabar, Maev's lovely child,
With her form thy sense beguiled:
Brightly though her beauty glows,
She no love on thee bestows.

Wouldst thou win the prize they bring,
Findabar, the child of king?
Many ere now that maid could cheat
Here, like thee, their wounds to meet.

Thou hast sworn, and plighted. troth,
Ne'er to fight me: keep thine oath:
Friendship's tie thee firm should hold,
Come not nigh me, champion bold.

Fifty chiefs, who sought that maid,
Fought me, fell, in earth are laid;
Well I know that tempting bait,
All have found, and earned their fate.

Ferbay fell, though bold his boast,
Him obeyed a valiant host;
Quickly here his rage I stilled;
Cast my spear but once, and killed.

Cruel fate Srub Darry slew,
Tales of hundred dames he knew;
Great his fame in days of yore;
Silver none, 'twas gold he wore.

Though that maid, whom Erin's best
Hope to gain, my heart would charm;
South and north, and east and west
I would keep thee safe from harm.


"And, O my friend Ferdia!" said Cuchulain "this is the cause why it was
not thy part to come here to the combat and the fight with me.  It is
because that when with Scathach, with Uathach, and with Aife we abode,
it was the custom with us that together we should go to every battle,
and to every field of battle; to every fight and to every skirmish; to
every forest and to all wildernesses; to all things dark and
difficult."  These were the words of his speech, and it was in that
place that he recited these staves:


Tuned our hearts were beating,
We, where chiefs were meeting,
Brotherly went: when slumbering
One was our couch: we sought
Fierce fights, and fought.
Oft in woods that are far away
Joined we stood in our skilful play;
Scathach our feats had taught.


And Ferdia replied to him thus:


O Cuchulain! for beautiful feats renowned,
Though together we learned our skill;
Though thou tellest of friendship that once we found,
From me shall come first thine ill;
Ah, recall not the time of our friendship's day:
It shall profit thee nothing, O Hound, I say.


"For too long now have we thus waited," said Ferdia; "tell me now O
Cuchulain! to what weapons shall we resort?"  "Thou hast the choice of
the weapons till the night," said Cuchulain, "because thou wert the
first to reach the Ford."  "Hast thou any remembrance," said Ferdia,
"of the weapons for casting, that we were accustomed to practise the
use of when we were with Scathach, with Uathach, and with Aife?"  "I do
indeed remember them," said Cuchulain."  "If thou rememberest them, let
us resort to them now," said Ferdia.  Then they resorted to their
weapons used for the casting.  They took up two shields for defence,
with devices emblazoned upon them, and their eight shields with sharp
edges such that they could hurl, and their eight javelins, and their
eight ivory-hilted dirks, and their eight little darts for the fight.
To and fro from one to the other, like bees upon a sunny day, flew the
weapons, and there was no cast that they threw that did not hit.  Each
of them then continued to shoot at the other with their weapons for
casting, from the dawn of the morning to the full middle of the day,
until all of their weapons had been blunted against the faces and the
bosses of their shields; and although their casting was most excellent,
yet so good was the defence that neither of them wounded the other nor
drew the other's blood during all that time.  "Cease now from these
feats, O Cuchulain!" said Ferdia, "for it is not by means of these that
the struggle between us shall come."  "Let us cease indeed," said
Cuchulain, "if the time for ceasing hath arrived."  And they ceased
from their casting, and they threw the weapons they had used for it
into the hands of their charioteers.

"To what weapons shall we next resort, O Cuchulain?" said Ferdia.

"Thou hast the choice of weapons until the night," said Cuchulain,
"because thou wert the first to reach the Ford."  "Then," said Ferdia,
"let us turn to our straight, well-trimmed, hard, and polished
casting-spears with tough cords of flax upon them."  "Let us do so
indeed," said Cuchulain.  Then they took two stout shields of defence,
and they turned to their straight, well-trimmed, hard, and polished
casting-spears with the tough cords of flax upon them, and each of them
continued to hurl his spears at the other from the middle of midday
until the ninth hour of the evening: and though the defence was most
excellent that each of them made, yet so good was the casting of the
spears that each of them wounded the other at that time, and drew red
blood from him.  "Let us desist from this now, O Cuchulain!" said
Ferdia. "Let us desist indeed," said Cuchulain, "if the time has come."

They ceased, and they threw away their weapons into their charioteers'
hands; and each of them at the end of that fight sought the other, and
each threw his arms about the other's neck, and gave him three kisses.
Their horses were in the same paddock that night, the men who had
driven their chariots sat by the same fire, moreover the charioteers of
both those warriors spread couches of fresh rushes for the two, and
supplied them with such pillows as are needed by wounded men.  And such
folk as can heal and cure came to heal and to cure them, and they
applied soothing and salving herbs and plants to their bruises, and
their cuts, and their gashes, and to all their many wounds.  And of
every soothing and salving herb and plant that was brought for the
bruises, the cuts, and the gashes, and all the wounds of Cuchulain, he
used to send an equal portion westward across the ford to Ferdia, so
that in case Ferdia fell at his hand the men of Ireland should not be
able to say that it was owing to superiority in leech-craft that he had
done it.  And of each kind of food, and of pleasant, palatable,
intoxicating drink that the men of Ireland brought to Ferdia, he would
send a fair half northward across the ford to Cuchulain; for the men
who provided food for Ferdia were more in number than they who provided
food for Cuchulain.  All the army of the men of Ireland helped to
provide Ferdia with food, because he was their champion to defend them
against Cuchulain; yet to Cuchulain also food was brought by the people
who dwell in the Breg.  And it was the custom with these that they came
to converse with him at the dusk of each night.

Thus they remained that night, but early in the morning they arose, and
repaired to the Ford of Combat.  "What weapons shall we turn to to-day,
O Ferdia?" said Cuchulain.  "Thou hast the choice of weapons until the
night," answered Ferdia, "because it is I who had my choice of them in
the day that is past."  "Let us then," said Cuchulain, "resort to our
great, broad-bladed, heavy spears this day, for nearer shall we be to
our battle by the thrusting of our spears this day than we were by the
throwing weapons of yesterday: let our horses be harnessed for us, and
our chariots yoked, that upon this day from our chariots and our horses
we may fight."  "Let us turn to these indeed," said Ferdia.  They then
took to them two exceedingly stout, broad shields, and they resorted to
their great, broad-bladed, heavy spears that day.  And each of them
continued to thrust at, and to pierce through, and to redden, and to
tear the body of the other from the dawn of the morning until the ninth
hour of the evening; and if it were the custom for birds in their
flight to pass through the bodies of men, they could have passed
through the bodies of those warriors that day, carrying with them
pieces of their flesh from their wounds into the clouds and to the sky
around them.  So when the ninth hour of the evening was come, the
horses were weary, and the charioteers were weak; and they themselves,
champions and heroes of valour as they were, had themselves become
weary; and "Let us cease now from this, O Ferdia!" said Cuchulain, "for
our horses are weary, and our charioteers are weak; and now that these
are weary, why should not we be weary too?" and then it was that he
sang this stave:


Not like Fomorians, men of the sea,
Stubborn, unending our struggle should be;
Now that the clamour of combat must cease,
Quarrels forget, and between us be peace.


Let us cease now indeed," said Ferdia, "if the time for it hath come."
They ceased, and they threw away their weapons into their charioteers'
hands, and each of them at the end of that fight sought the other, and
each threw his arms about the other's neck, and gave him three kisses.
Their horses were in the same paddock that night, the men who had
driven their chariots sat by the same fire, moreover the charioteers of
both those warriors spread couches of fresh rushes for the two, and
supplied them with such pillows as are needed by wounded men.  And such
folk as can heal and cure came to examine into their wounds and to tend
them that night, for they could do nothing more for them, so severe and
so deadly were the stabs and the thrusts, and the gashes of the many
wounds that they had, than to apply to them spells and incantations and
charms, in order to staunch their blood, and their bleeding mortal
wounds.  And for every spell and incantation and charm that was applied
to the stabs and the wounds of Cuchulain, he sent a full half westward
across the ford to Ferdia; and of each kind of food, and of pleasant,
palatable, intoxicating drink that the men of Ireland brought to
Ferdia, he sent a half across the ford to Cuchulain, in the north.  For
the men who brought food to Ferdia were more in number than they who
brought food to Cuchulain, for all the army of the men of Ireland
helped to provide Ferdia with food, because he was their champion to
defend them against Cuchulain; yet to Cuchulain also food was brought
by the people who dwell in the Breg.  And it was the custom with these
that they came to converse with him at the dusk of each night.

Thus they rested that night: but early in the morning they arose, and
repaired to the Ford of Combat; and Cuchulain saw that an evil look and
a lowering cloud was on the face of Ferdia that day.  "Ill dost thou
appear to me to-day, O Ferdia!" said Cuchulain.  "Thy hair hath been
darkened to-day, and thine eye hath been dimmed, and the form and the
features and the visage that thou art wont to have are gone from thee."
 "'Tis from no fear or from terror of thee that I am what I am to-day,"
said Ferdia, "for there is not in Ireland to-day a champion that I am
not able to subdue."  And Cuchulain complained and lamented, and he
spoke the words that follow, and thus did Ferdia reply:


Cuchulain

Is't indeed Ferdia's face?[FN#57]
Sure his meed is dire disgrace;
He, to war by woman led,
Comes his comrade's blood to shed.


[FN#57]  The metre is that of the Irish.


Ferdia

Thou who warrior art indeed,
Champion tried! who wounds dost breed,
I am forced the sod to see
Where my final grave shall be.


Cuchulain

Maev her daughter, Findabar,
Who all maids excelleth far,
Gave thee, not at love's behest,
She thy kingly might would test.

Ferdia

Gently ruling Hound, I know
That was tested long ago;
None so great is known to fame,
None, till now, to match it came.


Cuchulain

All that's chanced from thee hath sprung,
Darry's grandchild, Daman's son;
Woman's hest hath brought thee here
Swords to test with comrade dear.


Ferdia

Comrade! had I fled, nor found
Fight with thee, fair graceful Hound,
Maev my word could broken call;
Croghan hold my fame but small.


Cuchulain

None put meat his lips between,
None to king or stainless queen
Yet was born, whose praise I'd gain,
None whose scorn would win thy pain.


Ferdia

Thou who deep in wars dost wade,
'Twas not thou, 'twas Maev betrayed:
Back with conquest shalt thou ride,
Fault hast none thy fame to hide.


Cuchulain

Clots of blood my faithful heart
Choke; my soul is like to part:
'Tis with little force my arm
Strikes, to do Ferdia harm!


"Greatly although thou makest complaint against me to-day," said
Ferdia, "tell me to what arms shall we resort?"  Thine is the choice of
weapons until the night," said Cuchulain, "because it was I who had the
choice in the day that is past."  "Then," said Ferdia, "let us this day
take to our heavy hard-smiting swords; for sooner shall we attain to
the end of our strife by the edge of the sword this day than we did by
the thrusts of our spears in the day that is gone."  "Let us do so
indeed," said Cuchulain.  That day they took upon them two long and
exceedingly great shields, and they resorted to their heavy and
hard-striking swords.  And each of them began to hew, and to cut, and
to slaughter, and to destroy till larger than the head of a month-old
child were the masses and the gobbets of flesh which each of them cut
from the shoulders and the thighs and the shoulder-blades of his foe.

After this fashion did each of them hew at each other from the dawn of
the day until the ninth hour of the even, and then Ferdia said, "Let us
desist from this now, O Cuchulain!"  "Let us cease indeed," said
Cuchulain, "if the time has come."

They ceased from their strife, and they threw from them their arms into
the hands of their charioteers.  Pleasant and cheerful and joyous was
the meeting of the two: mournfully, and sorrowfully, and unhappily did
they part from each other that night.  Their horses were not in the
same paddock, their charioteers were not at the same fire, and there
they stayed for that night.

It was early in the morning when Ferdia arose, and he advanced alone
towards the Ford of Combat.  Well did he know that the battle and the
conflict would be decided that day; that upon that day and in that
place one of the two would fall or that both would fall.  And then,
before Cuchulain could come, Ferdia put on the armour that he was to
use for that battle in the conflict and fight.  And this was the battle
armour that he used for that conflict and fight; he put a kilt of
striped silk, bordered with spangles of gold, next to his white skin,
and over that he put his well-sewn apron of brown leather to protect
the lower part of his body.  Upon his belly he put a great stone as
large as a millstone, and over that great stone as large as a millstone
he put his firm deep apron of purified iron, on account of the fear and
the dread that he had of the Gae-Bulg that day.  And his crested helmet
that he used for battle and conflict and fight he put upon his head:
there were upon it four jewels of carbuncle, each one of them fit to
adorn it: also it was studded with enamels, with crystals, with
carbuncles, and with blazing rubies that had come from the East.  Into
his right hand he took his death-dealing sharp-pointed strong spear;
upon his left side he hung his curved sword of battle with its golden
hilt and its pommels of red gold: upon the slope of his back he took
his great and magnificent shield with great bosses upon it: fifty was
the number of the bosses, and upon each of them could be supported a
full-grown hog: moreover in the centre of the shield was a great boss
of red gold.  Upon that day Ferdia displayed many noble, rapidly
changing, wonderful feats of arms on high; feats which he had never
learned from any other, either from his nurse or his tutor, or from
Scathach, or from Uathach, or from Aife, but which he himself invented
that day for his battle with Cuchulain.  And Cuchulain approached the
ford, and he saw the many, rapidly changing, wonderful feats that
Ferdia displayed on high; and "O my friend Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "I
mark those noble, rapidly changing, wonderful feats which Ferdia
displays, and I know that all of those feats will in turn be tried upon
me; and for this reason if it be I who begin to go backwards this day,
let it be thy part to rouse me by reproaches, and by evil speech, so
that my rage and my wrath may be kindled, and increase.  And if it be I
that shall prevail, then do thou give to me praise and approval; and
speak good words tome, that my courage may be the greater."  "This
indeed will I do, O Cuchulain!" said Laeg.

Then did Cuchulain put on his battle armour that he used for the combat
and fight.  And that day he displayed noble, many-changing, wonderful,
and many feats that he had learned from none: neither from Scathach,
from Uathach, or from Aife.  And Ferdia marked those feats, and he know
that each in turn would be tried upon him.

"O Ferdia!" said Cuchulain, "tell me to what arms we shall resort?

"Thine is the choice of weapons until the night," said Ferdia.  "Then,"
said Cuchulain, "let us try the Feat of the Ford."[FN#58]  "Let us do
so indeed," said Ferdia; but although he thus spoke, it was with sorrow
that he consented, for he knew that Cuchulain had ever destroyed every
hero and champion who had contended with him at the Feat of the Ford.


[FN#58]  i.e. in which all weapons were allowed.


Mighty were the deeds that were done upon that day at the ford by those
two heroes, the champions of the west of Europe; by those two hands
which in the north-west of the world were those that best bestowed
bounty, and pay, and reward; those twin loved pillars of valour of the
Gael; those two keys of the bravery of the Gaels, brought to fight from
afar, owing to the urging and the intermeddling of Ailill and Maev.
From the dawn till the middle of the day, each began to shoot at the
other with his massive weapons; and when midday had come, the wrath of
the two men became more furious, and each drew nearer to the other.
And then upon a time Cuchulain sprang from the shore of the ford, and
he lit upon the boss of the shield of Ferdia the son of Daman, the son
of Dare, to strike at his head from above, over the rim of his shield.
And then it was that Ferdia gave the shield a blow of his left elbow,
and he cast Cuchulain from him like a bird, till he came down again,
upon the shore of the ford.  And again Cuchulain sprang from the shore
of the ford, till he lit upon the boss of the shield of Ferdia the son
of Daman, the son of Dare, to strike his head from above, over the rim
of the shield.  And Ferdia, gave the shield a stroke of his left knee,
and he cast Cuchulain from him like a little child, till he came down
on the shore of the ford.

Laeg saw what had been done.  "Ah!" said Laeg, "the warrior who is
against thee, casts thee away as a loose woman casts her child; he
flings thee as high as the river flings its foam; he grinds thee even
as a mill would grind fresh malt; pierces thee as the axe would pierce
the oak that it fells; binds thee as the woodbine binds the tree; darts
upon thee even as the hawk darts upon little birds, so that never until
time and life shall end, shalt thou have a call, or right, or claim for
prowess or for valour: thou little fairy phantom!" said Laeg.  Up
sprang Cuchulain, swift as the wind; quick as the swallow; fiery as the
dragon; powerful as the lion; and he bounded into the air for the third
time into the troubled clouds of it, until he lit upon the boss of the
shield of Ferdia, the son of Daman, striving to strike his head from
above, over the rim of the shield.  And the warrior shook his shield,
and he threw Cuchulain from him, into the middle of the ford, just as
if he had never been cast off at all.

And then for the first time the countenance of Cuchulain was changed,
and he rose in his full might, as if the air had entered into him, till
he towered as a terrible and wonderful giant, with the hero-light
playing about his head; rising as a wild man of the sea; that great and
valiant champion, till he overtopped Ferdia.  And now so closely were
they locked in the fight, that their heads met above them, and their
feet below them; and in their middles met their arms over the rims and
the bosses of their shields.  So closely were they locked in the fight,
that they turned and bent, and shivered their spears from the points to
the hafts; and cleft and loosened their shields from the centres to the
rims.  So closely were they locked, that the Bocanachs, and the
Bananachs, and the wild people of the glens, and the demons of the air
screamed from the rims of their shields, and from the hilts of their
swords, and from the hafts of their spears.  And so closely did they
fight, that they cast the river from its bed and its course, so that
there might have been a couch fit for a king and a queen to he in,
there in the midst of the ford, for there was no drop of water left in
it, except such as fell therein from off those two heroes and
champions, as they trampled and hewed at each other in the midst of the
ford.  And so fierce was their fight, that the horses of the Gaels, in
fear and in terror, rushed away wildly and madly, bursting their
chains, and their yokes, and their tethers, and their traces; and the
women, and the common folk, and the followers of the camp, fled
south-westwards out of the camp.

All this time they fought with the edges of their swords.  And then it
was that Ferdia found Cuchulain for a moment off his guard, and he
struck him with the straight edge of his sword, so that it sank into
his body, till the blood streamed to his girdle, and the soil of the
ford was crimson with the blood that fell from the body of that warrior
so valiant in fight.  And Cuchulain's endurance was at an end, for
Ferdia continually struck at him, not attempting to guard, and his
downright blows, and quick thrusts, and crushing strokes fell
constantly upon him, till Cuchulain demanded of Laeg the son of
Riangabra to deliver to him the Gae-Bulg.  Now the manner of using the
Gae-Bulg was this: it was set with its end pointing down a stream, and
was cast from beneath the toes of the foot: it made the wound of one
spear on entering a person's body; but it had thirty barbs to open
behind, and it could not be drawn out from a man's body until he was
cut open.  And when Ferdia heard mention of the Gae-Bulg, he made a
stroke of his shield downwards to guard the lower part of his body.
And Cuchulain thrust his unerring thorny spear off the centre of his
palm over the rim of the shield, and through his breast covered by
horny defensive plates of armour, so that its further half was visible
behind him after piercing the heart in his chest.  Ferdia gave an
upward stroke of his shield to guard the upper part of his body, though
too late came that help, when the danger was past.  And the servant set
the Gae-Bulg down the stream, and Cuchulain caught it between the toes
of his foot, and he threw it with an unerring cast against Ferdia, and
it broke through the firm deep apron of wrought iron, and it burst the
great stone that was as large as a millstone into three parts, and it
passed through the protection of his body into him, so that every
crevice and cavity in him was filled with its barbs.  "'Tis enough
now," said Ferdia. "I have my death of that; and I have but breath
enough to say that thou hast done an ill deed against me.  It was not
right that thy hand should be that by which I should fall."  And thus
did he cry, as he gasped out these words:


Hound, of feats so fair![FN#59]
Death from thee is ill:
Thou the blame must bear,
Thou my blood dost spill.

Help no wretch hath found
Down this chasm of woe:
Sick mine accents sound,
As a ghost, I go.

Torn my ribs, and burst,
Gore my heart hath filled:
This of fights is worst,
Hound! thou hast me killed.


[FN#59]  The metre is that of the Irish.


And after those words, Cuchulain ran towards him, and with his arms and
armour about him, carried him northwards across the ford, in order that
the slain man might be on the north side of the ford, and not upon the
western side together with the men of Erin.  Then Cuchulain laid Ferdia
down, and there it was that a trance and a faint and a weakness came
upon Cuchulain when he saw the body of Ferdia, Laeg saw his weakness,
and the men of Ireland all arose to come upon him.  "Rise up now, O
Cuchulain!" said Laeg, "for the men of Erin are coming towards us, and
no single combat will they give to us, since Ferdia the son of Daman,
the son of Dare, has fallen by thy hand."

"How shall I be the better for arising, O my servant!" said he, "now
that he who lieth here hath fallen by me?"  And it was in this manner
that his servant spoke to him, and he recited these words, and thus did
Cuchulain reply:


Laeg

Now arise, Battle-Hound of Emania!
It is joy and not grief should be sought;
For the leader of armies, Ferdia,
Thou hast slain, and hard battle hast fought.


Cuchulain

What availeth me triumph or boasting?
For, frantic with grief for my deed,
I am driven to mourn for that body
That my sword made so sorely to bleed.


Laeg

'Tis not thou shouldst lament for his dying,
Rejoicing should spring to thy tongue;
For in malice, sharp javelins, flying
For thy wounding and bleeding he flung.


Cuchulain

I would mourn, if my leg he had severed,
Had he hewn through this arm that remains,
That he mounts not his steeds; and for ever
In life, immortality gains.


Laeg

To the dames of Red Branch thou art giving
More pleasure that thus he should fall:
They will mourn for him dead, for thee living,
Nor shall count of thy victims be small.

Great Queen Maev thou hast chased, and hast fought her
Since the day when first Cualgne was left;
She shall mourn for her folk, and their slaughter,
By thy hand of her champions bereft.

Neither sleep nor repose hast thou taken,
But thy herd, her great plunder, hast chased,
Though by all but a remnant forsaken,
Oft at dawn to the fight thou didst haste.


Now it was in that place that Cuchulain commenced his lament and his
moan for Ferdia, and thus it was that he spoke:

"O my friend Ferdia! unhappy was it for thee that thou didst make no
inquiry from any of the heroes who knew of the valorous deeds I had
done before thou camest to meet me in that battle that was too hard for
thee!  Unhappy was it for thee that thou didst not inquire from Laeg,
the son of Riangabra[FN#60]  about what was due from thee to a comrade.
 Unhappy was it for thee that thou didst not ask for the honest and
sincere counsel of Fergus.  Unhappy it was for thee that thou hast not
sought counsel from the comely, the fresh-coloured, the cheery, the
victorious Conall about what was due from thee to a comrade.  Well do
these men know, that never, till life and time come to an end, shall be
born in the land of Connaught one who shall do deeds equal to those
which have been done by thee. And if thou hadst made inquiry from these
men concerning the habitations, the gatherings, the promises, and the
broken faith of the fair-haired ladies of Connaught; hadst thou asked
them concerning spear-play and sword-play; concerning skill in
backgammon and chess; concerning feats with horses, and chariots of
war; they would have said that never had been found the arm of a
champion who could wound a hero's flesh like the arm of Ferdia; he
whose colour matched the tints of the clouds: none who like thee could
excite the croak of the bloody-mouthed vulture, as she calls her
friends to the feast of the many-coloured flocks; none who shall fight
for Croghan or be the equal of thee to the end of life and time, O thou
ruddy-cheeked son of Daman!" said Cuchulain.  And then Cuchulain stood
over Ferdia.  "Ah! Ferdia," said Cuchulain, "great was the treachery
and desertion that the men of Ireland had wrought upon thee, when they
brought thee to combat and fight with me.  For it was no light matter
to combat and fight with me on the occasion of the Tain bo Cuailnge."
And thus it was that he spoke, and he then recited these words:


[FN#60]  Pronounced Reen-gabra.


'Twas guile to woe that brought thee;
'Tis I that moan thy fate;
For aye thy doom hath caught thee,
And here, alone, I wait.

To Scathach, glorious mother,
Our words, when boys, we passed;
No harm for each from other
Should come while time should last.

Alas! I loved thee dearly,
Thy speech; thy ruddy face;
Thy gray-blue eyes, so clearly
That shone; thy faultless grace.

In wrath for strife advances
No chief; none shield can rear
To piercing storm of lances
Of Daman's son the peer.

Since he whom Aife[FN#61] bore me
By me was slain in fight,
No champion stood before me
Who matched Ferdia's might.

He came to fight, thus trusting
Might Findabar be won;
Such hopes have madmen, thrusting
With spears at sand or sun.


[FN#61]  Pronounced Eefa. See note on this line.


Still Cuchulain continued to gaze upon Ferdia.  And now, O my friend
Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "strip for me the body of Ferdia, and take from
him his armour and his garments, that I may see the brooch for the sake
of which he undertook this combat and fight."  Then Laeg arose, and he
stripped Ferdia; he took his armour and his garments from him, and
Cuchulain saw the brooch, and he began to lament and to mourn for him,
and he spake these words:


Ah! that brooch of gold![FN#62]
Bards Ferdia knew:
Valiantly on foes
With hard blows he flew.

Curling golden hair,
Fair as gems it shone;
Leaflike sash, on side
Tied, till life had gone.


[FN#62]  The metre and the rhyme-system is that of the Irish. See
notes, p. 196.


Comrade, dear esteemed!
Bright thy glances beamed:
Chess play thine, worth gold:
Gold from shield rim gleamed.

None of friend had deemed
Could such tale be told!
Cruel end it seemed:
Ah! that brooch of gold!


"And now, O my friend Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "open the body of Ferdia,
and take the Gae-Bulg out of him, for I cannot afford to be without my
weapon."  Laeg came, and he opened Ferdia's body, and he drew the
Gae-Bulg out of him, and Cuchulain saw his weapon all bloody and red by
the side of Ferdia, and then he spake these words:


Ferdia, I mourn for thy dying,
Thou art pale, although purple with gore:
Unwashed is my weapon still lying,
And the blood-streams from out of thee pour.

Our friends in the East who have seen us,
When with Uathach and Scathach[FN#63] we dwelled,
Can bear witness, no quarrel between us
Or with words or with weapons was held.

Scathach came; and to conflict inciting
Were her accents that smote on mine ear;
"Go ye all, where a swift battle fighting,
German wields his green terrible spear!

To Ferdia, I flew with the story,
To the son of fair Baitan I sped,
And to Lugaid, whose gifts win him glory,
"Come ye all to fight German," I said.


[FN#63]  Pronounced Ooha and Scaha.


Where the land by Loch Formay lies hollowed
Had we come, fit for fight was the place;
And beside us four hundred men followed;
From the Athisech Isles was their race.

As beside me Ferdia contended
Against German, at door of his dun;
I slew Rind, who from Niul[FN#64] was descended,
I slew Rood, of Finnool was he son.


[FN#64]  Pronounced Nyool.


'Twas Ferdia slew Bla by the water,
Son of Cathbad red-sworded was he:
And from Lugaid Mugarne gat slaughter,
The grim lord of the Torrian sea.

Four times fifty men, stubborn in battle,
By my hand in that gateway were slain;
To Ferdia, of grim mountain cattle
Fell a bull, and a bull from the plain.

Then his hold to the plunderers giving,
Over ocean waves spangled with foam,
Did we German the wily, still living,
To the broad-shielded Scathach bring home.

There an oath our great mistress devising,
Both our valours with friendship she bound;
That no anger betwixt us uprising
Should 'mid Erin's fair nations be found.

Much of woe with that Tuesday was dawning,
When Ferdia's great might met its end;
Though red blood-drink I served him that morning:
Yet I loved, though I slew him, my friend.

If afar thou hadst perished when striving
With the bravest of heroes of Greece,
'Tis not I would thy loss be surviving;
With thy death should the life of me cease.

Ah! that deed which we wrought won us sorrow,
Who, as pupils, by Scathach were trained:
Thou wilt drive not thy chariot to-morrow;
I am weak, with red blood from me drained.

Ah! that deed which we wrought won us anguish,
Who, as pupils, by Scathach were taught:
Rough with gore, and all wounded, I languish;
Thou to death altogether art brought.

Ah! that deed that we wrought there was cruel
For us pupils, from Scathach who learned:
I am strong; thou art slain in the duel,
In that conflict, with anger we burned.


"Come now, Cuchulain," said Laeg, "and let us quit this ford, for too
long have we been here."  "Now indeed will we depart, O my friend
Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "but every other combat and fight that I have
made hath been only a game and a light matter to me compared with this
combat and fight with Ferdia."  Thus it was that he spoke; and in this
fashion he recited:


Wars were gay, and but light was fray[FN#65]
Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay:
Like had we both been taught,
Both one kind mistress swayed;
Like the rewards we sought,
Like was the praise she paid.


[FN#65]  Metre and rhyme-system of the Irish imitated, but not exactly
reproduced.


Wars were gay, and but light was fray
Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay:
Like were our fights, oft fought,
Like were our haunts in play;
Scathach to each of us brought
A shield one day.

Wars were gay, and but light was fray
Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay:
Pillar of gold, loved well,
Low at the Ford's side laid;
He, when on troops he fell,
Valour unmatched displayed.

Wars were gay, and but light was fray
Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay:
Lionlike, on he sped;
High, in his wrath, he blazed;
Rose, as a wave of dread;
Ruin his onset raised.

Wars were gay, and but light was fray
Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay:
Never, till hour of doom,
Ferdia's form shall fade;
High as a cliff it loomed,
Now is but left his shade.

Three great armies went this Raid,[FN#66]
All the price of death have paid;
Choicest cattle, men, and steeds
Lie in heaps, to tell my deeds.


[FN#66]  The metre is that of the Irish.


Widely spread their battle-line,
Less than half their host was mine;
Though to war stout Croghan came,
All I slew, for me a game!

None the battle neared like thee,
None of all whom Banba nursed
Passed thy fame; on land, on sea,
Thou, of sons of kings, art first!




SPECIAL NOTE



ON THE "COMBAT AT THE FORD"


The episode translated in the foregoing pages is not only one of the
famous examples on which Irish literature can fairly rest its claim to
universal recognition, but it also affords an excellent instance of the
problems involved when it comes to be studied critically.  These
problems, upon the solution of which must to some extent depend our
estimate of the place of Irish in the general development of European
literature) axe briefly dealt with in Mr. Leahy's Preface, as well as
in his special Introduction (supra, pp. 114, 115), but may perhaps be
thought worthy of somewhat more detailed examination.

The existence of two markedly different versions of the "Tain bo
Cuailnge," one, obviously older, represented by the eleventh-century
MS. Leabhar na h-Uidhri (L.U.), and the fourteenth-century MS. Yellow
Book of Lecan (Y.B.L.); the other, obviously younger, by the
twelfth-century Book of Leinster (L.L.), was pointed out by Professor
Heinrich Zimmer twenty-seven years ago in his study of the L.U. heroic
saga texts (Keltische Studien V.: Zeitschrift für vergleichende
Sprachforschung, vol. xxviii.).  The conclusion that he drew from the
fact, as also from the peculiarities disclosed by his analysis of the
L.U. texts, is substantially that stated by Mr. Leahy: "On the whole it
seems as if the compiler of the manuscript from which both the Leabhar
na h-Uidhri and the Yellow Book of Lecan were copied, combined into one
several different descriptions of the 'War,' one of which is
represented by the Book of Leinster version."  He furthermore
emphasised a particular aspect of this compiler's activity to which Mr.
Leahy also draws repeated attention; he (the compiler) was a man
interested in the historical and antiquarian rather than in the
literary side of the texts he harmonised and arranged: hence his
preference for versions that retain archaic and emphasise mythical
elements; hence his frequent interpolation of scraps of historical and
antiquarian learning; hence his indifference to consistency in the
conduct of the story, and to its artistic finish.  Professor Zimmer
urged that the "compiler" was no other than Flann, Abbot of
Monasterboice, who died in 1047, and was regarded as the most famous
representative of Irish learning in his day.  There has come down to us
under his name a considerable mass of chronological and historical
writing, partly in prose, partly in verse, and it seems certain that he
was one of the chief artisans in framing that pragmatic redaction of
Irish myth, heroic legend, and historical tradition most fully
represented by the two great compilations of the seventeenth century:
the Annals of the Four Masters, emphasising its antiquarian, historical
side; Keating's History, emphasising its romantic, legendary side.

Whilst Professor Zimmer's conclusion as to the personality of the L.U.
compiler has been challenged, his main thesis has remained unshaken.
On the whole, it can be asserted positively that the common source of
L.U. and Y.B.L. goes back to the early eleventh century; on the whole,
that this common source itself utilised texts similar to those
contained in the Book of Leinster.  Moreover, the progress of
linguistic analysis during the past quarter-century has strengthened
the contention that some of the elements used by Flann (or another) in
compiling his eleventh-century harmony are as old, in point of
language, as any existing remains of Irish outside the Ogham
inscriptions; in other words, being as old as the earliest glosses,
they may date back to the eighth or even seventh century.  In
particular the L.U.-Y.B.L. version of the "Tain bo Cuailnge" contains a
large proportion of such elements and may, in the main, be treated as
an eighth-century text.

It must, however, be pointed out, and for this reason I have italicised
the qualifying "on the whole," "in the main," that this conclusion does
not enable us to declare dogmatically (1) that all portions of the
L.U.-Y.B.L. version must go back to the eighth century; (2) that all
portions of the Book of Leinster version must precede the compilation
of the common source of L.U. and Y.B.L.  For as regards (1), not only
must the definitely ascertained activity of the eleventh-century
compiler be taken into account, but also the possible activity of later
scribes.  If we possessed the complete text of the L.U.-Y.B.L.
redaction in both MSS., we could at least be sure concerning the
possible variations introduced during the two centuries that elapsed
between the writing of the Yellow Book (early fourteenth century) and
that of L.U. (late eleventh century).  But most unfortunately both MSS.
are imperfect, the Yellow Book at the opening, L.U. at the close of our
tale.  Thus of the special episode under consideration, the "Combat at
the Ford," the older redaction is only extant in the fourteenth-century
MS., and it is always open to impugners of its archaic character to say
that it has been introduced there from the rival Leinster version.
Again, as regards (2), whilst it is practically certain that the great
mass of the Leinster version was in existence before the time of the
source whence both L.U. and Y.B.L. are derived, and must therefore date
back to the early eleventh century, it is by no means certain that this
version was not considerably altered and enlarged before it came to be
written down in the Book of Leinster some time before 1154.

The older version of the "Tain bo Cuailnge" has been translated by Miss
Winifred Faraday (Grimm Library, No. xvi. 1904).  In her Introduction
(p. xvii.) Miss Faraday argues against the assumption "that L.L.
preserves an old version of the episode," and questions "whether the
whole Fer Diad[FN#67] episode may not be late."  The truth of this one
contention would by no means involve that of the other; and again, both
might be true without invalidating any of the conclusions drawn by Mr.
Leahy (supra, p. 115).  If the episode as we have it first took shape
in the tenth century, it would be late as compared with much of the
rest of the "Tain," and yet it would be the earliest example in
post-classic European literature of the sentiments and emotions to
which it gives such fine and sympathetic expression.  In comparing the
two versions, the following fact is at once noticeable.  The Y.B.L.
text occupies pp. 100-112 of Miss Faraday's translation, in round
figures, 320 lines of 8 words to the line, or some 2600 words; the
Leinster version, omitting the verse, fills some 500 lines of 14 words,
or 7000 words.  Up to a certain point, however, the actual meeting of
the two champions, there is no difference between the versions in
length; the prose of both runs to about 2200 words.  But the whole of
the actual fight (supra, pp. 129-153 in the Leinster version) is
compressed into a page and a half in the older redaction, some 800
words as against over 4000.  Obviously this cannot represent the
original state of things; it would be psychologically impossible for
any story-teller to carry on his narrative up to a given stage with the
dramatic vigour, point, and artistically chosen detail displayed in the
first portion of the Y.B.L. version of the combat, and then to treat
the culmination of the tale in such a huddled, hasty, scamped manner.
The most likely explanation is that the original from which the Y.B.L.
scribe was copying was imperfect, and that the lacuna was supplied from
memory, and from a very faulty memory.  No conclusion can thus, I
think, be drawn from the fact that the details of the actual combat are
so bald and meagre in the only extant text of the older redaction.


[FN#67]  This is the spelling in Y. B. L. In L.L. the name appears as
one word, "Ferdiad"; usually scanned as a dissyllable--though
occasionally as a trisyllable.  The spelling Ferdia is the conventional
one sanctioned by the usage of Ferguson, Aubrey de Vere, and others;
the scansion of the word as a trisyllable is on the same authority.


If the two versions be compared where they are really comparable, i.e.
in that portion which both narrate at approximately the same length,
the older redaction will be found fuller of incident, the characters
drawn with a bolder, more realistic touch, the presentment more
vigorous and dramatic.  Ferdiad is unwilling to go against Cuchulain
not, apparently, solely for prudential reasons, and he has to be goaded
and taunted into action by Medb, who displays to the full her wonted
magnificently resourceful unscrupulousness, regardless of any and every
consideration, so long as she can achieve her purpose.  The action of
Fergus is far more fully dwelt upon, and the scones between him and his
charioteer, as also between him and Cuchulain, are given with far
greater spirit.  The hero is indignant that Fergus should think it
necessary to warn him against a single opponent, and says roundly that
it is lucky no one else came on such an errand.  The tone of the older
redaction is as a whole rough, animated, individualistic as compared
with the smoother, more generalised, less accentuated presentment of
the Leinster version.  But to conclude from this fact that the older
redaction of the actual combat, if we had it in its original fulness
instead of in a bald and fragmentary summary, would not have dwelt upon
the details of the fighting, would not have insisted upon the courteous
and chivalrous bearing of the two champions, would not have emphasised
the inherent pathos of the situation, seems to me altogether
unwarranted.  On the contrary the older redaction, by touches of
strong, vivid, archaic beauty lacking in the Leinster version leads up
to and prepares for just such a situation as the latter describes so
finely. One of these touches must be quoted.  Cuchulain's charioteer
asks him what he will do the night before the struggle, and then
continues, "It is thus Fer Diad will come to seek you, with new beauty
of plaiting and haircutting and washing and bathing....  It would
please me if you went to the place where you will got the same adorning
for yourself, to the place where is Emer of the Beautiful Hair....  So
Cuchulain went thither that night, and spent the night with his own
wife."  There is indeed the old Irish hero faring forth to battle as a
lover to the love tryst!  How natural, how inevitable with warriors of
such absurd and magnificent susceptibility, such boyish love of
swagger, how natural, I say, the free and generous emotion combined
with an overmastering sense of personal honour, and a determination to
win at all costs, which are so prominent in the Leinster version of the
fight.[FN#68]


[FN#68]  The trait must not be put down as a piece of story-teller's
fancy.  In another text of the Ulster cycle, Cath ruis na Rig,
Conchobor's warriors adorn and beautify themselves in this way before
the battle.  The Aryan Celt behaved as did the Aryan Hellene.  All
readers of Herodotus will recall how the comrades of Leonidas prepared
for battle by engaging in games and combing out their hair, and how
Demaretus, the counsellor of Xerxes, explained to the king "that it is
a custom with these men that when they shall prepare to imperil their
lives; that is the time when they adorn their heads" (Herodotus vii.
209.)


The contention that the older redaction, if we had it complete, would
resemble the younger one in its insistence upon the chivalrous bearing
of the two opponents, may also be urged on historical grounds.  The
sentiment which gives reality and power to the situation is based upon
the strength of the tie of blood-brotherhood; so strong is this that it
almost balances the most potent element in the ideal of old Irish
heroism--the sense of personal honour and pre-eminence in all that
befits a warrior.  The tie itself and the sentiment based upon it
certainly belong to pre-Christian times, and must have been losing
rather than gaining in strength during the historic period, say from
the fourth century onwards.  The episode of Cuchulain's combat with
Ferdiad must have existed in the older redaction of the "Tain" for the
simple reason that a tenth and eleventh century story-teller would have
found nothing in the feelings, customs, or literary conventions of his
own day to suggest to him such a situation and such a manner of working
it out.  But--and this consideration may afford a ground of
conciliation with Miss Faraday and the scholars who hold by the
lateness of the episode--the intrinsic beauty and pathos of the
situation, the fact of its constituting an artistic climax, would
naturally tempt the more gifted of the story-telling class.  There
would be a tendency to elaborate, to adorn in the newest fashion, hence
to modernise, and it is not only conceivable but most probable that the
original form should be farther departed from than in the case of much
else in the epic.

ALFRED NUTT.




GENERAL NOTES



THE COURTSHIP OF ETAIN


The translation of both versions of this romance has been revised by
Professor Strachan, and the linguistic notes are due to him, unless
otherwise stated.  The rendering given in the text is noted as
"doubtful," in cases where Professor Strachan does not assent.


PAGE 7
@@both line 17?
Line 17.  "By a means that he devised," do airec memman, lit. "by a
device of mind." Compare airecc memman aith (Meyer, Hib. Minora, p. 28).

Line 17.  "So that she became well-nourished, &c.," lit. "till there
came to her fatness and form;" sult probably means "fatness," and feth
"form."


PAGE 8

Line 25.  "Curvetting and prancing," tuagmar, foran.  These are guesses
by O'Curry: curvetting may be right, but there is little authority for
rendering foran as "prancing "; this word is doubtful.  "With a broad
forehead," forlethan, lit. "broad above," O'Curry renders
"broad-rumped."

Line 34.  "Upon the shore of the bay," forsin purt. Windisch's
rendering of port is "bank, harbour"; but it is doubtful whether the
word means more than "place."


PAGE 9

The literal rendering adopted for the poem runs thus:


Etain is here thus
at the elf-mound of the Fair-Haired Women west of Alba
among little children to her
on the shore of the Bay of Cichmaine.

It is she who cured the eye of the king
from the Well of Loch da lig,
it is she who was drunk in a draught
by the wife of Etar in a heavy draught.

Through war for her the king will chase
the birds from Tethba,
and will drown his two horses
in the lake da Airbrech.

There shall be abundant and many wars
through the war for thee on Echaid of Meath,
destruction shall be on the elf-mounds,
and war upon many thousands.

It is she who was hurt in the land (?),
it is she who strove to win the king,
it is she as compared to whom men men speak of fair women,
it is she, our Etain afterwards.


Line 2.  "West of Alba" is literally "behind Alba," iar n-Albai: iar
is, however, also used in the sense of "west of."

Line 14 is given by Windisch "through the war over Meath rich in
horses"; this is impossible.

The translation of line 17 is not quite certain; the literal
translation of the MS. seems to be "it is she who was hurt and the
land."  Da Airbrech in line 12 may mean "of two chariots."


PAGE 10

Literal translation of the quatrain:


Ignorant was Fuamnach, the wife of Mider,
Sigmall and Bri with its trees
in Bri Leth: it was a full trial
were burned by means of Manannan.


PAGE 11

Line 5.  "Labraid the Tracker."  This is a very doubtful rendering, the
text gives Labradae Luircc.

Line 25.  "That he desired full knowledge of." There seems to be
something with the Irish here; the word is co fessta which could only
be third singular subj. pass. "that it might be known," which does not
make grammar.  It should be co fessed or co festais, "that he (or they)
might know."


PAGE 12

Line 9.  "His officers who had the care of the roads."  A very doubtful
rendering; the Irish is tarraluing sligeth.

Line 29.  "A bright purple mantle waved round her," lit. "a bright
purple curling (?) mantle," but the sense of caslechta as "curling" is
not certain.

Line 30.  "Another mantle."  The word for mantle here is folai, in the
former line it was brat.


PAGE 13

Line 3.  "As white as the snow." ba gilighuir mechto: not "whiter than
the snow," as Windisch's Dict. gives it.

Line 17.  "All that's graceful, &c.," cach cruth co hEtain, coem cach
co hEtain.  Compare conid chucum bagthir cach n-delb. (L.U., 124b, 17,
"Courtship of Emer "), and Ir. Text., iii. p. 356, 1. 4, from which it
may be seen that the meaning is that Etain is the test to which all
beauty must be compared.


PAGE 14

Line 19.  "So long as they were," not "so long as he was."  The Irish
is cein ropas, and ropas is the impersonal preterite passive.

Line 29.  "The choking misery, &c.," lit. "he let come to him the
slaodan of a heavy sickness:" slaodan is the cough of consumption.


PAGE 15

Line 2.  Lit. "worse and worse," messa a cach.

Line 18.  "His burial mound," a fert fodbuigh.  Compare Zimmer, Kuhn's
Zeitschrift, xxx. 9, for fotbuig.


Literal rendering of the dialogue:


B.  What hath happened to thee, O young man?
long is thy bed of sickness,
prostrate is thy full and splendid pace,
however fair the weather may be.

A.  There is cause for my sighs;
the music of my harp contents me not;
neither does any milk please me,
it is this that brings me into a pitiful state.

E.  Tell me what ails thee, O man,
for I am a maiden who is wise;
tell me of anything which may be of benefit to thee
that thy healing may be wrought by me.

A.  To speak of it is not possible for me
(lit. "finds not room in me"),
O maiden, lovely is thy form,
there is fire of some one behind her eyes (?)
nor are the secrets of women good.

B.  Though the secrets of women are bad,
yet, if it is love, the remembrance remains for long;
from the time when the matter is taken into hand
this thing is not deserving of its (?) recognition.

A.  A blessing on thee, O white maiden,
I am not worthy of this speech to me;
neither am I grateful to my own mind,
my body is in opposition to me.

Wretched indeed is this, O wife of the King,
Eochaid Fedlech in very truth,
my body and my head are sick,
it is reported in Ireland.

E.  If there is among the troops of white women
any one who is vexing thee,
she shall come here, if it is pleasing to thee,
there shall be made by my help her courtship.


In verse 3, line 2, inniss dam gach dal, dal means no more than thing
it is not an accusative from dal, a meeting.

Verse 4, line 3.  Meaning doubtful.

Verse 7, line 2.  The confusion between Eochaid Airemm, the king in
this story, and his brother Eochaid Fedlech is obvious.  It may, as
Windisch thinks, be an indication that the poem is not part of the
romance as originally composed, but other explanations are possible.

Line 4.  "It is reported." Not quite certain; Irish is issed berair.


PAGE 17

Line 11.  "And great gain, &c." Text defective, and meaning uncertain.

Line 13.  Rhetoric; the literal translation seems to be as follows, but
some words are uncertain:


It is love that was longer enduring (?) than a year my love,
it is like being under the skin,
it is the kingdom of strength over destruction.

It is the dividing into quarters of the earth,
it is summit (7) of heaven,
it is breaking of the neck,
it is a battle against a spectre.

It is drowning with cold (or ? water),
it is a race up heaven,
it is a weapon under the ocean,
it is affection for an echo;
(so is) my affection and my love and my desire of the one on whom I
have set (my love).


PAGE 18

Line 2.  The translation given is Windisch's, "it is sorrow under the
skin is Strachan's rendering.

Line 5.  Translation uncertain.  Irish is dichend nime.

Line 8.  Is combath fri huacht (I read husce).

Literal rendering of the poem:


Arise, O glorious Ailill,
great bravery is more proper to thee than anything;
since thou shalt find here what was wished by thee,
thy healing shall be done by me.

If it should please thee in thy wise mind,
place hand about my neck;
a beginning of courtship, beautiful its colour,
woman and man kissing each other.

But, if this is not enough for thee, O good man,
O son of a king, O royal prince,
I will give for thy healing, O glorious crime,
from my knee to my navel.

A hundred cows, a hundred ounces of gold,
a hundred bridled horses were collecting,
a hundred garments of each variegated colour,
these were brought as a price for me.

A hundred of each other beast came hither,
the drove was great;
these to me quickly, till the sum was complete,
gave Eochaid at the one time.


Line 14.  Of poem.  "Were collecting," ratinol.  This is the rendering
in Windisch's Dictionary, but is a doubtful one.

Line 18.  Imerge means "drove," not "journey," as in Windisch.

Line 27 of text.  "Wrought a great healing, &c." Irish, ro lessaig,
"healed him" (Windisch); "waited upon him" (Strachan).


PAGE 19

Line 17.  "For fear of danger."  Baegal, "danger," has sometimes the
sense of "chance," "risk."

Line 23.  "That is what I would demand of thee."  Translation not quite
certain Irish, cid rotiarfaiged.


PAGE 20

Line 2.  "That both of us do indeed deem, &c." lit. "it is so indeed
well to us both."

Line 22.  For the incident compare Bodleian Dinnshenchas (Nutt, p. 27):
the introduction of Crochen is a human touch which seems to be
characteristic of the author of this version.  The Dinnshenchas account
seems to be taken from the romance, but it gives the name of Sinech as
Mider's entertainer at Mag Cruachan.

Line 25.  "The Fairy Mound of Croghan." Irish, co sith sínighe Cruachan;
for sínighe read Maighe, "to the sid of Mag C."


PAGE 21

Line 2.  Until the same day upon the year, &c.," on lo cu cele, "from
that day to its fellow," i.e. "till the same day next year."

Line 10.  "Three wands of yew."  This looks like an early case of a
divining-rod.

Line 21.  "Hath smitten thee," rotirmass for ro-t-ormaiss, "hath hit
thee."

Line 29.  "They ruined," "docuas ar," an idiomatic phrase; "they
overcame," an idiomatic phrase.  Compare Annals of Ulster under years
1175, 1315, 1516.


PAGE 22

Line 2.  "Messbuachalla."  This makes Etain the great-grandmother of
Conary, the usual account makes her the grandmother, so that there is
here an extra generation inserted.  Yet in the opening she and Eochaid
Airem are contemporary with kings who survived Conary!

Line 4.  "The fairy host, &c."  The order of the words in the original
is misleading and difficult sithchaire and Mider are the subjects to ro
choillsiut and to doronsat.


PAGE 23

Line 12.  That there should be adjusted)" fri commus, lit. "for
valuation," but commus has also the sense of "adjusting."


PAGE 24

Line 4.  "Since he for a long time, &c.," fodaig dognith abairt dia
sirsellad. See Meyer's Contributions, s.v. abairt.

Line 23.  "To gaze at her."  Up to this point the L.U. version
(exclusive of the Prologue) bears the character of an abstract,
afterwards the style improves.


PAGE 25

Line 2.  "But it shall not be in the abode, &c."  Windisch seems to
have mimed the point here, he considers these lines to be an
interpolation.


PAGE 26

Line 5.  Following Windisch's suggestion, this poem has been placed
here instead of the later place where it occurs in the text.  This
famous poem has been often translated; but as there appear to be points
in it that have been missed, a complete literal rendering is appended:


O fair-haired woman, will you come with me
into a marvellous land wherein is music (?);
the top of the head there is hair of primrose,
the body up to the head is colour of snow.

In that country is no "mine" and no "thine";
white are teeth there, black are eyebrows,
the colour of the eyes is the number of our hosts,
each cheek there the hue of the foxglove.

The purple of the plain is (on) each neck,
the colour of the eyes is (colour of) eggs of blackbird;
though pleasant to the sight are the plains of Fal (Ireland),
they are a wilderness (7) for a man who has known the Great Plain.

Though intoxicating to ye the ale of the island of Fal,
the ale of the Great Country is more intoxicating
a wonder of a land is the land I speak of,
a young man there goes not before an old man.

Stream smooth and sweet flow through the land,
there is choice of mead and wine;
men handsome (?) without blemish,
conception without sin, without crime.

We see all on every side,
and yet no one seeth us,
the cloud of the sin of Adam it is
that encompasses us from the reckoning.

O woman, if thou wilt come to my strong people,
it is top of head of gold shall be on thy head,
unsalted pork, new milk and mead for drink
shalt thou have with me there, O fair-haired woman.


Line 2.  Hi fil rind.  The meaning of rind (?) music) is uncertain.

Line 3.  Is barr sobarche folt and.  This line is often translated as
"hair is wreathed with primrose": the image would be better, but it is
not the Irish.  Barr is "top of head," and folt is "hair."

Line 4.  Is and nad bi mui na tai.  Muisse is in old Irish the
possessive of the first sing when followed by a noun it becomes mo,
when not so followed it is mui; tai is also found for do.  O'Curry gave
this line as "there is no sorrow nor care."

Lines 7 and 10.  Is li sula lin ar sluag and is li sula ugai luin are
so similar that is li sula must mean the same in both, and cannot mean
"splendour of eyes" in the first case unless it does so in the second.
The idea in the first case seems to be that the hosts are reflected in
the eyes; it is so rendered in the verse translation.  A blackbird's
egg has a blue ground, but is so thickly powdered with brown spots of
all shapes that it looks brown at a distance.  At first I was inclined
to take the idea to be "hazel" eyes, but comparing line 7, it seems
more likely that the idea is that all sorts of shapes appear in the
pupil.

Line 12.  The translation of annam as a "wilderness" is very doubtful,
it more probably is "seldom"; and the line should be "seldom will it be
so after knowledge of, &c."

Line 16.  This has always been rendered "no youth there grows to old
age."  But the Irish is ni thecht oac and re siun, and re siun can only
mean "before an old (man)."  The sense possibly is, that as men do not
become feeble with advancing years, the younger man has not the same
advantage over his elders in the eyes of women that he has in this
world.

Line 17.  Teith millsi, "smooth and honey-sweet" (Meyer, MacCongl., p.
196).

Line 24.  Compare a story of some magical pigs that could not be
counted accurately (Revue Celtique, vol. xiii. p. 449).

Line 31.  Muc ur, "unsalted pork"; see Glossary to Laws, p. 770; also
MacConglinne (Kuno Meyer), p, 99.


PAGE 27

Line 23.  "He ascended."  Fosrocaib for sosta: fosrocaib is an unknown
compound (=fo-sro-od-gaib).  Perhaps frisocaib for sosta, "mounted on
the heights."

Line 29.  Co brainni a da imdae, "to the edges of his two shoulders";
see braine, in Meyer's Contributions.


PAGE 28.

Line 19.  "Casting their light on every side," cacha air di = cacha
airidi, "in every direction."

Line 25.  "If thou dost obtain the forfeit of my stake," mad tu beras
mo thocell.  For tocell see Zimmer, Kuhn's Zeitsch., xxx. 80.

Line 29.  "Eager" (?), femendae.  See Bruiden da Derga (Stokes), 50, 51.

Line 30.  "Easily stopped," so-ataidi suggested for sostaidi in the
text: cf. Bruiden da Derga.  The conjecture has not Strachan's
authority.


PAGE 29

Line 19.  Literal translation of rhetoric: "Put it in hand, place it
close in hand, noble are oxen for hours after sunset, heavy is the
request, it is unknown to whom the gain, to whom the loss from the
causeway."

Line 28.  "Over the chariot-pole of life" seems to be a literal
rendering of for fertas in betha.  Strachan renders "on the face of the
world," which is of course the meaning of the simile.

Line 30.  "High was he girt," ard chustal.  The meaning of custal is
not known; it was used of some arrangement of the dress.  See Ir.
Text., iii. 226; also L.U. 79a, 35, L.L. 97a, 40; 98a, 51; 253a, 30.

Line 31.  "Eochaid arose," Atrigestar Eochaid. Strachan thinks it much
more likely that this is "Eochaid feared him," the verb coming from
atagur.  It is, however, just possible that the word might be a
deponent form from atregaim, "I arise."  Eochaid does not elsewhere
show any fear of Mider, the meaning given agrees better with the tone
of the story, and is grammatically possible.


PAGE 30

Line 1.  "All things that seemed good, &c.," lit. "I have been
accustomed to get what seemed good to thee," adethaind ni bad maith.

Line 3.  "Anger for anger," bara fri bure.  Compare the word bura in
Meyer's Contributions.

Line 25.  "In order that Eochaid should stand in his debt," lit. "that
there might be cause of reproach for him to Eochaid."

Line 32.  "Forest that is over Breg." MS. fid dar bre, with mark of
abbreviation.  This is read to be dar Breg. Professor Rhys (Arthurian
Legend, p. 28) renders "to cover Darbrech with trees."

Line 33.  "As it is written in the book of Drom Snechta.  "This is a
conjecture by Mrs. Hutton as a restoration of the words in L.U., which
is torn just here: the words appear to be amal atbert lebor drums.


PAGE 31

Line 1.  This rhetoric is very obscure; much of it cannot be
translated.  The text seems to be as follows, according to Strachan:
Cuisthe illand tochre illand airderg damrad trom inchoibden clunithar fír
ferdi buidni balc-thruim crandchuir forderg saire fedar sechuib
slimprib snithib scítha lama indrosc cloina fo bíth oen mna. Duib in dígail
duib in trom daim tairthim flatho fer ban fomnis fomnis in fer mbranie
cerpiae fomnis diad dergae fer arfeid soluig fria iss esslind fer bron
for-tí ertechta in de lamnado luachair for di Thethbi dílecud (? diclochud)
Midi in dracht coich les coich amles ? thocur ? dar c? moin.

Apparent rendering: "Place on the land, place close on the land, very
red oxen, heavy troop which hears, truly manlike ? troops, strong heavy
placing of trees, very red . . . is led past them with twisted wattles,
weary hands, the eye slants aside (squints) because of one woman.  To
you the vengeance, to you the heavy ? oxen ? splendour of sovereignty
over white men, . . . man sorrow on thee . . . of childbirth, rushes
over Tethba, clearing of stones from Meath . . . where the benefit
where the evil, causeway over . . . moor."  It seems that the oxen were
transformed people of Mider's race; this appears from fír-ferdi, which is
taken to mean "really men"; and duib in digail duib in trom-daim, which
is taken to mean "to you the vengeance, to you heavy oxen."

Professor Strachan disagrees with this, as daim, to be "oxen," should
not have the accent, he makes trom-daim "heavy companies."  He also
renders clunithar fír ferdi buindi, as "which hears truth, manly troops."
 The rest of the translation he agrees to, most of it is his own.

The passage from fomnis fomnis to lamnado seems untranslatable.


PAGE 32

Line 1.  Lit. "no evil wedding feast (banais, text banas) for thee?



MAC DATHO'S BOAR


PAGE 37

Line 3.  The Rawlinson version gives, instead of "who was the guardian
of all Leinster," the variant "who would run round Leinster in a day."
This semi-supernatural power of the hound is the only supernatural
touch in either version of the tale.

Line 6.  The verse "Mesroda son of Datho" is from the Rawlinson MS.
The literal version of it is in Anecdota Oxoniensia, Mediaeval Series,
part viii. p. 57.  (This reference will in future be given as A.O., p.
57.)

Line 20.  The list of the hostelries or guest-houses of Ireland
includes the scene of the famous Togail Da Derga, in the sack of which
Conaire, king of Ireland, was killed. Forgall the Wily was the father
of Emer, Cuchulain's wife.  The tale of the plunder of da Choca is in
the MS. classed as H. 3, 18 in the Trinity College, Dublin, Library.


PAGE 38

The literal version of the dialogue between Mac Datho and his wife is
given in A.O., p. 58, following the Leinster text (there are only two
lines of it given in the Rawlinson MS.); but I note a few divergencies
in the literal version from which the verse translation was made.

Verse 3, line 1.  Asbert Crimthann Nia Nair, "Crimthann Nia Nair has
said" (A.O.).  Nia is "sister's son," and has been so rendered.  Nia is
a champion, and this is the meaning given in the Coir Anmann; but nia
has no accent in either the Leinster or Harleian manuscripts of the
text.  The Coir Anmann (Ir. Tex., iii. 333) says that Nar was a witch.

Verse 4, lines 1, 2.  Cid fri mnai atbertha-su Mani thesbad ní aire, "Why
wouldest thou talk to a woman if something were not amiss?" (A.O.).
"Why dost thou speak against a woman unless something fails on that
account" seems as good a translation, and fits the sense better.

Verse 7, line 2.  Leis falmag dar sin tuaith, "By him Ireland (shall be
roused) over the people."  The omitted verb is apparently "to be," as
above.  Line 4 of the same verse is left untranslated in A.O., it is
ata neblai luim luaith.  It seems to mean "There is nothing on the
plain for bareness (luim) of ashes," more literally, "There is a
no-plain for, &c."

Verse 9, lines 2, 3.  Isi ním dení cutal.  Ailbe do roid dia.  "It does not
make sorrow for me; as for Ailbe, "God sent him" seems to be the sense;
but the meaning of cutal is obscure.


PAGE 41

Line 8.  "Forty oxen as side-dishes," lit. "forty oxen crosswise to it"
(dia tarsnu).  The Rawlinson MS. gives "sixty oxen to drag it" (dia
tarraing).

Line 33.  "The son of Dedad."  Clan Dedad was the Munster hero clan,
having their fortress in Tara Luachra; they correspond to the more
famous Clan Rury of Ulster, whose stronghold was Emain Macha.  Curoi of
Munster seems to have been a rival hero to Cuchulain.


PAGE 42

Line 20.  "Pierced through with a spear."  The different ways in which
Ket claims to have conquered his rivals or their relations may be
noted; the variety of them recalls the detailed descriptions of wounds
and methods of killing so common in Homer.  There are seven victories
claimed, and in no two is the wound the same, a point that
distinguishes several of the old Irish romances from the less elaborate
folk-tales of other nations.  Arthur's knights in Malory "strike down"
each other, very occasionally they "pierce through the breast" or
"strike off a head," but there is seldom if ever more detail.  In the
Volsunga Saga men "fall," or are "slain," in a few cases of the more
important deaths they are "pierced," or "cut in half," but except in
the later Niebelungenlied version where Siegfried is pierced through
the cross embroidered on his back, a touch which is essential to the
plot, none of the Homeric detail as to the wounds appears.  The same
remark applies to the saga of Dietrich and indeed to most others; the
only cases that I have noticed which resemble the Irish in detail are
in the Icelandic Sagas (the Laxdale Saga and others), and even there
the feature is not at all so prominent as here, in the "Tain be
Cuailnge," and several other Irish romances, though it is by no means
common to all of them.  It may be noted that the Irish version of the
"Tale of Troy" shows this feature, and although it is possible that the
peculiarity is due to the great clearness and sharpness of detail that
characterises much of the early Irish work, it may be that this is a
case of an introduction into Irish descriptions of Homeric methods.

It may be also noted that six of Ket's seven rivals are named among the
eighteen Ulster chiefs in the great gathering of Ulster on the Hill of
Slane before the final battle of the Tain, Angus being the only one
named here who is not in the Hill of Slane list.  Two others in the
Hill of Slane list, Fergus mac Lets and Feidlimid, are mentioned
elsewhere in this tale.  Several of these are prominent in other tales:
Laegaire (Leary) is a third with Cuchulain and Conall in the Feast of
Bricriu, and again in the "Courtship of Emer;" Cuscrid makes a third
with the same two principal champions in the early part of the
"Sick-bed;" Eogan mac Durthacht is the slayer of the sow of Usnach in
the old version of that tale; and Celtchar mac Uitechar is the Master
of the Magic Spear in the "Bruiden da Derga," and has minor romances
personal to himself.


PAGE 45

The literal translation of the rhetoric seems to be: Ket. "Welcome,
Conall! heart of stone: wild glowing fire: sparkle of ice: wrathfully
boiling blood in hero breast: the scarred winner of victory: thou, son
of Finnchoem, canst measure thyself with me!"  Conall. "Welcome, Ket!
first-born of Mata! a dwelling place for heroes thy heart of ice: end
of danger (7); chariot chief of the fight: stormy ocean: fair raging
bull: Ket, Magach's son!  That will be proved if we are in combat: that
will be proved if we are separated: the goader of oxen (?) shall tell
of it: the handcraftsman (?) shall testify of it: heroes shall stride
to wild lion-strife: man overturns man to-night in this house."


PAGE 46

The literal translation of the quatrain is in A.O., p. 63.  The
quatrain does not occur in the Leinster version.


PAGE 47

Line 4.  "A great oak-tree."  After the plucking up of the oak-tree by
Fergus, the Rawlinson MS. adds: "Others say that it was Curoi mac Dari
who took the oak to them, and it was then that he came to them, for
there was no man of Munster there (before) except Lugaid the son of
Curoi and Cetin Pauci.  When Curoi had come to them, he carried off all
alone one half of the Boar from all the northern half of Ireland."
This exploit attributed to Curoi is an example of the survival of the
Munster account of the Heroic Age, part of which may be preserved in
the tales of Finn mac Cumhail.


PAGE 48

The Rawlinson manuscript adds, after mentioning the rewards given to
Ferloga But he did not get the serenade (cepoca), though he got the
horses."  Literal translation of the final poem:


O lads of Connaught, I will not fill
your heaviness with a lying tale;
a lad, small your portion,
divided the Boar of Mac Datho.

Three fifties of fifty men
are gone with troops of heroes;
combat of pride for that Ailbe,
small the fault in the matter of the dog.
Victorious Conor came (?),
Ailill of the hosts, and Ket;
Bodb over the slaughters after the fight,
Cuchulain conceded no right.

Congal Aidni there from the east,
Fiamain the man of harmony from the sea,
(he who) suffered in journeys after that
Eogan the son of dark Durthacht.
three sons of Nera (famous) for numbers of battle-fields,
three sons of Usnach, fierce shields:

Senlaech the charioteer,
he was not foolish, (came) from high Conalad Cruachan;
Dubhtach of Emain, high his dignity;
Berba Baither of the gentle word;
Illan glorious for the multitude of his deeds;
fierce Munremur of Loch Sail;
Conall Cernach, hard his valour;
Marcan . . .
Celtchar the Ulsterman, man over man;
Lugaid of Munster, son of three dogs.

Fergus waits great Ailbe,
shakes for them the . . . oak,
took hero's cloak over very strong shield;
red sorrow over red shield.

By Cethern the son of Finntan they were smitten,
single his number at the ford (i.& he was alone);
the men of Connaught's host
he released not for the time of six hours.

Feidlimid with multitude of troops,
Loegaire the Triumphant eastwards,
was half of complaint about the dog
with Aed son of Morna not great.

Great nobles, mighty (?) deeds,
hard heroes, fair companions in a house,
great champions, destruction of clans,
great hostages, great sepulchres.

@@line x2?
In this poem may be noted the reference to Cuchulain in line x2 in
close connection with that to Bodb the Goddess of War, as indicating
the original divine nature of Cuchulain as a war-god also the epithet
of Lugaid, "son of three dogs."  Two of the dogs are elsewhere stated
to be Cu-roi and Cu-chulain, the third seems uncertain.

Line 26, describing Marcan, seems untranslatable; the Irish is Marcan
sinna set rod son.  The epithet of the oak in line 32 is also obscure,
the Irish is dairbre n-dall.



THE SICK-BED OF CUCHULAIN


PAGE 57

Line 2.  "Samhain."  Samhain was held on November 1st, and on its eve,
"Hallow-e'en".

The exhibition of tips of tongues, on the principle of Indian scalps,
has nothing at all to do with the story, and is not mentioned in the
usual descriptions of the romance.  It is a piece of antiquarian
information, possibly correct, and should serve to remind us that the
original form of these legends was probably of a barbaric kind, before
they were taken in hand by the literary men who gave to the best forms
of the romances the character they now have.

Line 23.  For the demons screaming from the weapons of warriors compare
the Book of Leinster version of the "Combat at the Ford": pages 126,
143 in this volume.


PAGE 58

Line 4.  The delay of Conall and Fergus leads to nothing, it is perhaps
an introduction from some third form of the story.

Line 19.  Leborcham is, in the story of Deirdre, Deirdre's nurse and
confidant.

Line 26.  "Their three blemishes."
This disfigurement of the women of Ulster in honour of their chosen
heroes seems to point to a worship of these heroes as gods in the
original legend.  It may, however, be a sort of rough humour
intentionally introduced by the author of the form of the story that we
call the Antiquarian form; there are other instances of such humour in
this form of the story.


PAGE 59

Line 2.  "Like the cast of a boomerang."  This is an attempt to
translate the word taithbeim, return-stroke, used elsewhere (L.U.,
63a., 4) for Cuchulain's method of capturing birds.

Line 8.  "I deem it as being by me that the distribution was made."
The words "I deem it" are inserted, they are not in the text.  It
appears that what Ethne meant was that the distribution by Cuchulain
was regarded by her as done by her through her husband.


PAGE 60

Line 9.  "Dun Imrith nor yet to Dun Delga." Dun Imrith is the castle in
which Cuchulain was when he met the War-Goddess in the "Apparition of
the Morrigan," otherwise called the "Tain bo Regamna."  Dun Delga or
Dundalk is the residence usually associated with Cuchulain.  The
mention of Emer here is noticeable; the usual statement about the
romance is that Ethne is represented as Cuchulain's mistress, and Emer
as his wife; the mention here of Emer in the Antiquarian form may
support this; but this form seems to be drawn from so many sources,
that it is quite possible that Ethne was the name of Cuchulain's wife
in the mind of the author of the form which in the main is followed.
There is no opposition between Emer and Ethne elsewhere hinted at.

Line 15.  The appearance of Lugaid Red-Stripes gives a reason for his
subsequent introduction in the link between the two forms of the story.

Line 18.  "Near the entrance of the chamber in which Cuchulain lay."
It does not yet seem certain whether imda was a room or a couch, and it
would seem to have both meanings in the Antiquarian form of this story.
 The expression forsind airiniuch na imdai which occurs here might be
rendered "at the head of the bed"; but if we compare i n-airniuch ind
rigthige which occurs twice in "Bricriu's Feast," and plainly means "at
the entrance of the palace," it seems possible that airinech is here
used in the same sense, in which case imda would mean "room," as
Whitley Stokes takes it in the "Bruiden da Derga."  On the other hand,
the word imda translated on page 63, line 11, certainly means "couches."

Line 27.  "Ah Cuchulain, &c."  Reference may be made for most of the
verses in this romance to Thurneysen's translation of the greater part
of it in Sagen aus dem alten Irland but, as some of his renderings are
not as close as the verse translations in the text, they require to be
supplemented.  The poem on pp. 60, 61 is translated by Thurneysen, pp.
84 and 85; but the first two lines should run:--


Ah Cuchulain, under thy sickness
not long would have been the remaining.


And lines 7 and 8 should be:


Dear would be the day if truly
Cuchulain would come to my land.


The epithet "fair" given to Aed Abra's daughters in line 4 by
Thurneysen is not in the Irish, the rest of his translation is very
close.

Line 32.  "Plain of Cruach."  Cromm Cruach is the name of the idol
traditionally destroyed by St. Patrick in the "Lives."  Cromm Cruach is
also described In the Book of Leinster (L.L. 213b) as an idol to whom
human sacrifices were offered.  The name of this plain is probably
connected with this god.


PAGE 61

Line 30.  "Hath released her," Irish ros leci.  These words are usually
taken to mean that Manannan had deserted Fand, and that she had then
turned to Cuchulain, but to "desert" is not the only meaning of lecim.
In the second form of the story, Fand seems to have left Manannan, and
though of course the two forms are so different that it is not
surprising to find a contradiction between the two, there does not seem
to be any need to find one here; and the expression may simply mean
that Manannan left Fand at liberty to pursue her own course, which
divine husbands often did in other mythologies. Manannan is, of course,
the Sea God, the Celtic Poseidon.


PAGE 62

Line 3.  Eogan Inbir (Yeogan the Stream) occurs in the Book of Leinster
version of the Book of Invasions as one of the opponents of the Tuatha
De Danaan, the Folk of the Gods (L.L. 9b, 45, and elsewhere).

Line 15.  "Said Liban."  The text gives "said Fand."  This seems to be
a scribal slip: there is a similar error corrected on page 79, line 21,
where the word "Fand" is written "Emer" in the text.

Line 16.  "A woman's protection."  The "perilous passage," passed only
by a woman's help, occurs elsewhere both in Irish and in other early
literatures. See Maelduin, para. 17; Ivain (Chretien de Troyes), vv.
907 sqq.; and Mabinogion, "Lady of the Fountain" (Nutt's edition, p.
177).

Line 28.  "Labra."  Labraid's usual title, as given to him by Liban in
both forms of the romance and once by Laeg in the second description of
Fairyland, is Labraid Luath lamar-claideb, the title being as closely
connected with him as {Greek boh`n a?gaðo`s Mene'laos}with Menelaus in
Homer.  It is usually translated as "Labraid quick-hand-on-sword," but
the Luath need not be joined to lam, it is not in any of the places in
the facsimile closely joined to it, and others than Liban give to
Labraid the title of Luath or "swift," without the addition.

The literal translation of the short pieces of rhetoric on pages 62, 63
are,


"Where is Labraid the swift hand-on-sword,
who is the head of troops of victory?
(who) triumphs from the strong frame of his chariot,
who reddens red spear-points."

"Labraid the son of swiftness is there,
he is not slow, abundant shall be
the assembly of war, slaughter is set
when the plain of Fidga shall be full."

"Welcome to thee, O Laeg!
for the sake of her with whom thou hast come;
and since thou hast come,
welcome to thee for thyself!"


The metre of the first two pieces is spirited and unusual.  The second
one runs:


Ata Labraid luithe cland,
ni ba mall bid immda
tinol catha, cuirther ar,
día ba Ian Mag Fidgae.


PAGE 63

Line 24.  "Fand."  The derivations of the names of Fand and of Aed Abra
are quite in keeping with the character of the Antiquarian form, and
would be out of place in the other form of the romance.  It may perhaps
be mentioned that the proper meaning of Abra is "an eyelash," but the
rendering "Aed Abra of the Fiery Eyebrows," which has been employed in
accounts of this romance, would convey a meaning that does not seem to
have been in the mind of the authors of either of the two forms.

For the literal translations of the three invocations to Labraid, on
pp. 63, 66, Thurneysen (p. 87) may be referred to; but there would be a
few alterations.

In the first, line 2 should be "heir of a little host, equipped with
light spears," if Windisch's Dictionary is to be followed; line 5 would
seem to begin "he seeketh out trespasses" (oirgniu); and line 7 should
begin, "attacker of heroes," not "an attacking troop," which hardly
makes sense.

In the second invocation the first line should alter Labraid's title to
"Labraid the swift hand-on-sword-of-battle;" line 3 should end with
"wounded his side."  In line 6 and again in the third line of the third
invocation, Thurneysen translates gus as "wrath": Windisch gives the
word to mean "strength."

Line 4 of the third invocation is rendered "he pierceth through men" by
Thurneysen; the Irish is criathraid ocu.  Criathraim is given by
O'Reilly as meaning "to sift": "he sifteth warriors" seems a
satisfactory meaning, if O'Reilly is to be relied on.


PAGE 65

Labraid's answer to the three invocations seems to run thus, but the
translation is doubtful, many words are marked unknown by Windisch: "I
have no pride or arrogance, O lady, nor renown, it is not error, for
lamentation is stirred our judgment" (reading na ardarc nid mell, chai
mescthair with the second MS.), "we shall come to a fight of very many
and very hard spears, of plying of red swords in right fists, for many
peoples to the one heart of Echaid Juil (?), (let be) no anbi of thine
nor pride, there is no pride or arrogance in me, O lady."  I can make
nothing of Anbi.


PAGE 66

Thurneysen does not translate the rhetoric; the translation seems to
run thus:


Great unprofitableness for a hero to lie
in the sleep of a sick-bed;
for unearthly women show themselves,
women of the people of the fiery plain of Trogach,
and they have subdued thee,
and they have imprisoned thee,
and they have chased thee away (?) amid great womanish folly.

Rouse thyself from the contest of distress
(Gloss, "the sickness sent by the fairy women")
for all is gone of thy vigour
among heroes who ride in chariots,
and thou sittest (?) in the place of the young
and thou art conquered (? condit chellti if connected with tochell),
and thou art disturbed (?) in thy mighty deeds,
for that which Labraid's power has indicated
rise up, O man who sittest (?) that thou mayest be great.

"Chased thee away" in line 7, for condot ellat, perhaps connected with
do-ellaim (?).


PAGE 67

Thurneysen's translation (p. 91) of Emer's lament may be referred to,
but he misses some strong points. Among these are:

Line 5.  "Woe to Ulster where hospitality abounds."

Line 12.  "Till he found a Druid to lift the weight."

Line 25.  "Were it Furbaide of the heroes."

Line 27.  "The hound would search through the solid earth."

Line 29.  "The hosts of the Sid of Train are dead."

Line 30.  "For the hound of the Smith of Conor."

Line 34.  "Sick for the horseman of the plains."

Note the familiarity with the land of the fairies which Laeg is
asserted to have in the first verse of the poem: this familiarity
appears more than once in the Literary form of the story.  Laeg speaks
of the land of Labraid as "known to him" in his- first description of
that land, again in the same description Laeg is recognised by Labraid
by his five-folded purple mantle, which seems to have been a
characteristic fairy gift.  Also, Laeg seems at the end of the tale to
be the only one to recognise Manannan.  There is no indication of any
familiarity of Laeg with the fairy country in the Antiquarian form.

The different Ulster heroes alluded to are mostly well-known; all
except Furbaide are in "Mae Datho's Boar."  Furbaide was a son of
Conor; be is one of the eighteen leaders who assemble on the Hill of
Slane in the "Tain bo Cuailgne."

The Smith of Conor is of course Culann, from whom Cuchulain got his
name.


PAGES 68, 69

A translation of Emer's "Awakening of Cuchulain" may be found in
Thurneysen, p. 92 but there are one or two points that seem to be noted
as differing from the rendering there given.

Lines 3 and 4 seem to mean: "Look on the king of Macha, on my beauty /
does not that release thee from deep sleep?"  Thurneysen gives "Look on
the king of Macha, my heart! thy sleep pleases him not." Mo crath can
hardly mean "my heart."

Line 6 is in the Irish deca a churnu co comraim! "see their horns for
the contest!"  Instead of comraim Thurneysen seems to prefer the
reading of the second MS., co cormaim, and translates "their horns full
of beer."  Churnu may mean trumpets as well as drinking-horns, and Emer
would hardly call on Cuchulain to throw off a drunken sleep (line 21)
and then take to beer!

The following translation of lines 17 to 20 seems preferable to
Thurneysen's:


"Heavy sleep is decay, and no good thing;
it is fatigue against a heavy war;
it is 'milk for the satiated,'
the sleep that is on thee;
death-weakness is the tanist of death."


The last line is tanaisi d'ec ecomnart.  The tanist was the prince who
stood next to the king; the image seems too good a one to be lost;
Thurneysen translates "weakness is sister to death."

Line 14 seems to mean "see each wonder wrought by the cold"; Emer calls
Cuchulain's attention to the icicles which she thinks he is in danger
of resembling.


PAGE 69

For the literal translation of Liban's invitation see Thurneysen, p. 93.

Line 14 should run: "Colour of eyes his skin in the fight;" the
allusion is, apparently, to a bloodshot eye.


PAGE 71

Line 4.  The Plain of Speech (Mag Luada) and the Tree of Triumphs (Bile
Buada) are apparently part of the Irish mythology; they appear again in
Laeg's second description of Fairyland, which is an additional reason
for keeping this poem where it is in the second version, and not
following Thurneysen in transferring it to the first.  Mag Luada is
sometimes translated as "moving plain," apparently deriving the word
from luath, "swift."

Laeg's two descriptions of the Fairyland are (if we except the voyage
of Bran) the two most definite descriptions of that country in Irish
literature.  There is very little extravagance in these descriptions;
the marvellously fruitful trees, the ever-flowing vat of mead, and the
silver-branched tree may be noted.  Perhaps the trees of "purple glass"
may be added, but for these, see note on line 30.  The verse
translation has been made to follow the original as closely as
possible; for a literal translation Thurneysen's versions (pp. 94 and
88) may be referred to, but some alterations may be made.

The first description seems to begin thus:


I went with noble sportiveness
to a land wonderful, yet well-known;
until I came to a cairn for twenty of troops
where I found Labraid the Long-haired.

There I found him on that hill
sitting among a thousand weapons,
yellow hair on him with beautiful colour,
an apple of gold for the confining of it.


And it ends thus:


Alas I that he went not long ago,
and each cure (should come) at his searching,
that he might see how it is
the great palace that I saw.

Though all Erin were mine
and the kingship of yellow Bregia,
I would resign it; no slight trial;
for knowledge of the place to which I came.

The following points should also be noted:

Line 30 of this first description is tri bile do chorcor glain.  This
undoubtedly means "three trees of purple glass"; but do chorcor glan
would mean "of bright purple"; and this last rendering, which is quite
a common expression (see Etain, p. 12), has been adopted in the verse
translation.  The order of the words in the expression in the text is
unusual, and the adoption of them would give an air of artificiality to
the description which is otherwise quite absent from it.

Lines 37 and 38 run thus:


There are there thrice twenty trees,
their tops meet, and meet not.


Lines 43, 44, rendering: "Each with splendid gold fastening well hooked
through its eye," are literally "and a brooch of gold with its
splendour in the 'ear' of each cloak."  The ears of a cloak, usually
described as made of the peculiar white bronze, occur elsewhere in the
tales, and there are different speculations as to their use and
meaning.  The most probable explanation is that they were bronze rings
shaped like ears, and sewn into the cloak; a brooch to fasten the cloak
being passed through the rings.  This explanation has been suggested by
Professor Ridgeway, and seems to fit admirably the passages in which
these "ears" occur.  Compare Fraech, line 33, in the second volume;
also the "Courtship of Ferb" (Nutt), p. 6.

There are also a few corrections necessary to Thurneysen's translation
of the second description.

Lines 13 to 20 should run thus:


A beautiful band of women;--victory without fetters;--
are the daughters of Aed Abra;
the beauty of Fand is a rushing sound with splendour,
exceeding the beauty of a queen or king.


(The last line is more literally, "not excepting a queen or, &c.")


I will say, since it hath been heard by me,
that the seed of Adam was sinless;
but the beauty of Fand up to my time
hath not found its equal.


For the allusion to Adams sin, compare Etain, p. 26.  Allusions like
these show that the tales were composed in Christian times.  There
seems no reason to suppose them to be insertions, especially in cases
like this one, where they come in quite naturally.

Line 21 is literally "with their arms for slaying"; not "who warred on
each other with weapons" as in Thurneysen.


PAGE 76

For the cooling of Cuchulain's battle-frenzy with water compare the
similar treatment in the account of his first foray (L.U., 63a; Miss
Faraday's translation, p. 34).

For a literal translation of Faud's triumph song over Cuchulain's
return see Thurneysen's translation on page 97 Of the work already
referred to.  Thurneysen's translation is very close; perhaps the last
verse should run: "Long rain of red blood at the side of the trees, a
token of this proud and masterful, high with wailing is the sorrow for
his fiend-like frenzy."

The description of Cuchulain's appearance in verses 5 and 6 seems to
point to a conception of him as the sun-god.  Compare the "sunlike"
seat of his chariot on page 79.


PAGE 78

The literal translation of Liban's rhetoric in welcome to Cuchulain
seems to be, "Hail to Cuchulain! King who brings help, great prince of
Murthemne! great his mind; pomp of heroes; battle-triumphing; heart of
a hero; strong rock of skill; blood-redness of wrath; ready for true
foes of the hero who has the valour of Ulster (?); bright his
splendour; splendour of the eyes of maidens; Hail to Cuchulain!"

Torc in the second line is glossed in the MS. by "that is, a king."

Cuchulain's account of his own battle is omitted by Thurneysen,
possibly because the account that he gives differs from that in the
text, as is pointed out by Windisch, Ir. Text., vol. i. p. 201).  But
it is quite in keeping with the hero's character that he should try to
lessen his own glory; and the omission of this account destroys one of
the features of the tale.

The literal rendering is:


I threw a cast with my light spear
into the host of Eogan the Stream;
not at all do I know, though renowned the price,
the victory that I have done, or the deed.

Whether he was better or inferior to my strength
hitherto I chanced not on for my decision,
a throw, ignorance of the man in the mist,
certainly he came not away a living man.

A white army, very red for multitudes of horses,
they followed after me on every side (?),
people of Manannan Mac Lir,
Eogan the Stream called them.

I set out in each manner
when my full strength had come to me;
one man to their thirty, hundreds,
until I brought them to death.

I heard the groan of Echaid Juil,
lips speak in friendship,
if it is really true, certainly it was not a fight (?),
that cast, if it was thrown.


The idea of a battle with the waves of the sea underlies the third
verse of this description.


PAGE 79

Five pieces of rhetoric follow, all of which are translated by
Thurneysen.  A few alterations may be made, but all of them would be
small ones.  The verse translations given are, it is believed, a little
closer to the text than Thurneysen's.  The metres of the first three
pieces are discussed by Professor Rhys in Y Cymmrodor for 1905 (pages
166, 167).  Professor Rhys reduces the second of these to a hexameter
followed by three pentameters, then a hexameter followed by a
pentameter.  The other two reduce to hexameters mixed with curtailed
hexameters and pentameters.  The last two pieces of the five, not
mentioned by Professor Rhys, show a strophic correspondence, which has
been brought out in the verse translation; note especially their
openings, and the last line of Emer's speech, cia no triallta, as
balancing the last line but four of Cuchulain's speech, cia no
comgellta.  The last of these five pieces shows the greatest
differences between the verse and literal translations.  A literal
translation of this would run:


"Wherefore now, O Emer!" said Cuchulain, "should I not be permitted to
delay with this lady? for first this lady here is bright, pure, and
clear, a worthy mate for a king; of many forms of beauty is the lady,
she can pass over waves of mighty seas, is of a goodly shape and
countenance and of a noble race, with embroidery and skill, and with
handiwork, with
understanding, and sense, and firmness; with plenty of horses and many
cattle, so that there is nothing under heaven, no wish for a dear
spouse that she doth not.  And though it hath been promised (?), Emer,"
he said, "thou never shalt find a hero so beautiful, so scarred with
wounds, so battle-triumphing, (so worthy) as I myself am worthy."


PAGE 81

Line 11.  "Fair seems all that's red, &c.," is literally "fair is each
red, white is each new, beautiful each lofty, sour is each known,
revered is each thing absent, failure is each thing accustomed."

For a translation of the poem in which Fand resigns Cuchulain reference
may be made to Thurneysen (p. 101).  A more accurate translation of the
first verse seems to run thus:


I am she who will go on a journey
which is best for me on account of strong compulsion;
though there is to another abundance of her fame,
(and) it were dearer to me to remain.


Line 16 of poem, translated by Thurneysen "I was true and held my
word," is in the original daig is misi rop iran.  Iran is a doubtful
word, if we take it as a form of aur-an, aur being the intensitive
prefix, a better translation may be, "I myself was greatly glowing."


PAGE 82

Line 26.  "The lady was seized by great bitterness of mind," Irish ro
gab etere moir. The translation of etere is doubtful.


PAGE 83

For the final poem, in which Fand returns to Manannan, reference may as
before be made to Thurneysen's translation; but a few changes may be
noted:

Line 1 should be, "See the son of the hero people of the Sea."

Line 5 seems to be, "Although" (lit. "if") "it is to-day that his cry
is excellent."

Line 7 is a difficult one.  Thurneysen gives, "That indeed is the
course of love," apparently reading rot, a road, in place of ret; but
he leaves eraise untranslated; the Irish is is eraise in ret in t-serc.
 Might not eraise be "turning back," connected with eraim, and the line
run: "It is turning back of the road of love"?

Lines 13 to 16 are omitted by Thurneysen.  They seem to mean:


When the comely Manannan took me,
he was to me a fitting spouse;
nor did he at all gain me before that time,
an additional stake (?) at a game at the chess.


The last line, cluchi erail (lit. "excess") ar fidchill, is a difficult
allusion.  Perhaps the allusion is to the capture of Etain by Mider as
prize at chess from her husband.  Fand may be claiming superiority over
a rival fairy beauty.

Lines 17 and 18 repeat lines 13 and 14.

Lines 46 and 47 are translated by Thurneysen, "Too hard have I been
offended; Laeg, son of Riangabra, farewell," but there is no "farewell"
in the Irish.  The lines seem to be: "Indeed the offence was great, O
Laeg, O thou son of Riangabra," and the words are an answer to Laeg,
who may be supposed to try to stop her flight.


PAGE 85

Line 24.  "That she might forget her jealousy," lit. "a drink of
forgetfulness of her jealousy," deoga dermait a heta.  The translation
seems to be an accepted one, and certainly gives sense, but it is
doubtful whether or not eta can be regarded as a genitive of et,
"jealousy "; the genitive elsewhere is eoit.

There is a conclusion to this romance which is plainly added by the
compiler: it is reproduced here, to show the difference between its
style and the style of the original author:


"This then was a token given to Cuchulain that he should be destroyed
by the People of the Mound, for the power of the demons was great
before the advent of the Faith; so great was that power that the demons
warred against men in bodily form, and they showed delights and secret
things to them; and that those demons were co-eternal was believed by
them.  So that from the signs that they showed, men called them the
Ignorant Folk of the Mounds, the People of the Sid."



THE EXILE OF THE SONS OF USNACH


PAGE 91

The four pieces of rhetoric, at the beginning of this text are
translated by Thurneysen, Sagen aus dem alten Irland, pp. 11 and 12.
In the first, third, and fourth of those, the only difference of any
importance between the text adopted and Thurneysen's versions is the
third line of the third piece, which perhaps should run: "With stately
eyes with blue pupils," segdaib suilib sellglassaib, taking the text of
the Yellow Book of Lecan.

The second piece appears to run as follows:


Let Cathbad hear, the fair one, with face that all love,
the prince, the royal diadem, let he who is extolled be increased
by druid arts of the Druid:
because I have no words of wisdom
to oppose (?) to Feidlimid,
the light of knowledge;
for the nature of woman knows not
what is under her body,
(or) what in the hollow of my womb cries out.


These rhetorics are remarkable for the great number of the
alliterations in the original.


PAGE 93

Thurneysen omits a verse of Cathbad's poem.  A translation of the whole
seems to run thus:


Deirdre, great cause of destruction,
though thou art fair of face, famous, pale,
Ulster shall sorrow in thy time,
thou hidden (?) daughter of Feidlimid.


Windisch's Dict. gives "modest daughter" in the last line; the original
is ingen fial.  But the word might be more closely connected with fial,
"a veil."  "Modest" is not exactly the epithet that one would naturally
apply to the Deirdre of the Leinster version, and the epithet of
"veiled" or "hidden" would suit her much better, the reference being to
her long concealment by Conor.


There shall be mischief yet afterwards
on thy account, O brightly shining woman,
hear thou this! at that time shall be
the exile of the three lofty sons of Usnach.

It is in thy time that a violent deed
shall be done thereupon in Emain,
yet afterwards shall it repent the violation
of the safeguard of the mighty son of Rog.


Do foesam is read in the last verse, combining the Leinster and the
Egerton texts.


It is through thee, O woman with excellence,
(is) the exile of Fergus from the Ulstermen,
and a deed from which weeping will come,
the wound of Fiachna, the son of Conor.


Fiachna. is grandson to Conor in the Book of Leinster account of the
battle. Fiacha is Conor's son in the Glenn Masain version.


It is thy fault, O woman with excellence,
the wound of Gerrc son of Illadan,
and a deed of no smaller importance,
the slaying of Eogan mac Durthacht.


There is no account of the slaying of Eogan in the Book of Leinster
version; and Eogan appears on the Hill of Slane in the Ulster army in
the War of Cualgne.  The sequel to the Glenn Masain version, however,
describes Eogan's death at the hand of Fergus (Celtic Review, Jan.
1905, p. 227).


Thou shalt do a deed that is wild and hateful
for wrath against the king of noble Ulster;
thy little grave shall be in that place,
thy tale shall be renowned, O Deirdre.


PAGE 95

Line 13.  "Release me, O my wife!" eirgg uaim a ben.  It is suggested
that the vocative ben is "wife," not "woman."  It occurs in seven other
places besides this in Windisch's Dictionary, and in six of these it
means wife (Emer is addressed as wife of Cuchulain in a deig-ben, in
"Sick-bed," 44).  In the remaining case ("Fled Bricrend," 31) the word
is abbreviated, and stands b in the text, which might be for be, "O
lady," though we should have then expected the accent. I suggest that
Naisi, by giving to Deirdre the name of "wife," accepts her offer, for
no other sign of acceptance is indicated, and the subsequent action
shows that she is regarded as his wife afterwards.

Line 30.  "Near to Ballyshannon," and "which men to-day call the
Mountain of Howth," are inserted as the modern names of the places.
The words correspond to nothing in the Irish.


PAGE 97

Line 13.  "Fiacha."  Fiacha, the son of Fergus, corresponds to Illan in
the better known version.  There is no one in this version who
corresponds to the traitor son, Buinne.


PAGE 98

The "Lament of Deirdre," one of the finest of the older Irish poems,
has been rendered by Thurneysen and by others, among which should be
specially mentioned Miss Hull, in the Cuchullin Saga, pp. 50-51.
O'Curry's and O'Flanagan's versions seem to be very far from correct,
and it will be more convenient to give that literal translation which
seems nearest to the original, instead of indicating divergencies.  The
literal translation adopted runs as follows:


Though fair to you seems the keen band of heroes
who march into Emain that they lately left (lit "after departing"),
more stately was the return to their home
of the three heroic sons of Usnach.

Naisi, with mead of delicious hazel-nuts
(came), to be bathed by me at the fire,
Ardan, with an ox or boar of excellence,
Aindle, a faggot on his stately back.

Though sweet be the excellent mead to you
which is drunk by the son of Ness, the rich in strife,
there has been known to me, ere now, leaping over a bank,
frequent sustenance which was sweeter.


Line 3 of the above stanza seems to be baithium riam reim for bra,
taking reim from the Egerton text.  The allusion is to a cascade.


When the noble Naisi spread out
a cooking-hearth on hero-board of tree,
sweeter than any food dressed under honey[FN#69]
was what was captured by the son of Usnach.


[FN#69]  For "food dressed under honey" compare Fraech, line 544, in
the second volume.


Though melodious to you each month
(are the) pipers and horn-blowers,
it is my open statement to you to-day
I have heard melody sweeter far than these.

For Conor, the king, is melody
pipers and blowers of horns,
more melodious to me, renowned, enchanting
the voice given out by the sons of Usnach.

Like the sound of the wave the voice of Naisi,
it was a melodious sound, one to hearken to for ever,
Ardan was a good barytone,
the tenor of Aindle rang through the dwelling-place.

Naisi is laid in his tomb,
sad was the protection that he got;
the nation by which he was reared poured out
the cup of poison by which he died.

Dear is Berthan, beautiful its lands,
stately the men, though hilly the land,
it is sorrowful that to-day I rise not
to await the sons of Usnach.

Dear the mind, firm, upright,
dear the youth, lofty, modest,
after going with him through the dark wood
dear the girding (?) at early morning.

Dear his gray eye, which women loved,
it was evil-looking against enemies,
after circuit of the wood (was) a noble assembly,
dear the tenor through the dark wood.

I sleep not therefor,
and I stain not my nails with red,
joy comes not to my wakefulness,
for the sons of Usnach return not.


The last line is the Egerton reading.


I sleep not
for half the night on my bed,
my mind wanders amidst clouds of thoughts,
I eat not, nor smile.

There is no leisure or joy for me
in the assemblies of eastern Emain;
there is no peace, nor pleasure, nor repose
in beholding fine houses or splendid ornaments.

What, O Conor, of thee?
for me only sorrow under lamentation hast thou prepared,
such will be my life so long as it remains to me,
thy love for me will not last.

The man who under heaven was fairest to me,
the man who was so dear
thou hast torn from me; great was the crime;
so that I shall not see him until I die.

His absence is the cause of grief to me,
the shape of the son of Usnach shows itself to me,
a dark hill is above his white body
which was desired before many things by me.

His ruddy cheeks, more beautiful than meadows (?),
red lips, eyebrows of the colour of the chafer,
his teeth shining like pearls,
like noble colour of snow.

Well have I known his splendid garb
among the warrior men of Alba;
mantle of crimson, meet for an assembly,
with a border of red gold.

His tunic of satin of costly price,
on it a hundred pearls could be counted, goodly the number
(lit. "a smooth number" ? a round number),
for its embroidery had been used, it was bright,
fifty ounces of findruine (i.e. white bronze).

A gold-hilted sword in his hand,
two green spears with terrible points (?),
a shield with border of yellow gold,
and a boss of silver upon it.

Fair Fergus brought injury upon us
when inducing us to cross the sea;
he has sold his honour for ale,
the glory of his high deeds is departed.

If there were upon this plain
the warriors of Ulster in the presence of Conor,
all of them would I give up without a struggle
for the companionship of Naisi, the son of Usnach.

Break not to-day my heart (O Conor!),
soon shall I reach my early grave,
stronger than the sea is my grief,
dost thou not know it, O Conor?


PAGE 103

For the literal translations of the poems in the Glenn Masain version
see
Whitley Stokes in Irische Texte, ii. 2, 172 sqq.

Stanzas 13 to 16 are not in LVI. (the manuscript which is the second
authority used by Stokes for this version, and is the chief authority
for this part of the version).  They are in the manuscript that Stokes
calls II.  (the version used by O'Flanagan), which, like LVI., agrees
pretty closely with the Glenn Masain text so far as the latter
manuscript extends.

Stanza 22 is also from O'Flanagan's manuscript.  This verse is not
translated by Stokes, but it seems worth inserting.  The literal
translation of it is:


I am Deirdre without joy,
it is for me the end of my life;
since to remain behind them is the worst thing,
not long life to myself.


PAGE 107

Line 21. Two passages, one describing Fergus' sons born in Connaught,
the other summing up his deeds, are omitted, as it is not intended to
reproduce this version in full.



THE COMBAT AT THE FORD


The well-known translation by O'Curry of this part of the Book of
Leinster version of the "Tain bo Cuailgne" is given in the third volume
of his "Manners and Customs," pp. 414-463.  There are, as has often
been pointed out, many inaccuracies in the translation, and the present
version does not claim to correct all or even the greater part of them;
for the complete version of the Great Tain by Windisch which has so
long eagerly been expected should give us a trustworthy text, and the
present translation is in the main founded on O'Curry; to whose version
reference may be made for literal translations for such parts of the
verse passages as are not noted below.  A few more obvious corrections
have been made; most of those in the prose will appear by comparing the
rendering with O'Curry's; some of the corrections in the literal
versions adopted for the poems are briefly indicated.  Two poems have
been literally translated in full: in these the renderings which have
no authority other than O'Curry's are followed by a query, in order to
give an indication of the extent to which the translation as given may
for the present be regarded as uncertain.  For all the more valuable of
the corrections made to O'Curry's translation I am indebted to the
kindness of Mr. E. J. Quiggin, Fellow of Caius College, Cambridge.


PAGE 118

Line 7 Of the first stanza.  O'Curry gives this as "Thou hast come out
of every strife," which seems to be an impossible rendering; "Take
whatever is thy will" seems to be nearer the sense of the passage, and
has been adopted.

Lines 5 to 8 of the fourth stanza are very uncertain; and the
translation given, which is in part based upon O'Curry, is very
doubtful; a more trustworthy one has not, however, been arrived at.

Line 4 of the fifth stanza in O'Curry's rendering means "Here is what
thou wilt not earn," i.e. "We can pay more than a full reward for thy
services."

Lines 5 and 6 of the sixth stanza should be, "If my request be granted
me I will advance, though I am not his match."

Line 2 Of the eighth stanza, "Not thine a pleasant smile for a
consort."  Brachail in the next line is "guardian."

Line 10 of the last stanza. Elgga is one of the names of Ireland.


PAGE 121

Line 1.  Maeth n-araig, "in an easy task," the force of which O'Curry
seems to miss, translating it "as he thought."

There are several changes to make in O'Curry's rendering of the
dialogue between Fergus and Cuchulain.  It should run thus:


F. O Cuchulain, manifest is the bargain,
I see that rising is timely for thee;
here comes to thee in anger
Ferdiad, son of Daman, of the ruddy face.

C. I am here, it is no light task
valiantly delaying the men of Erin;
I have not yielded a foot in retreat
to shun the combat of any one man.

F. Fierce is the man in his excited (?) rage
because of his blood-red sword:
a horny skin is about Ferdiad of the troops,
against it prevails not battle or combat.

C. Be silent, urge not thy story,
O Fergus of the powerful weapons!
on any field, on any ground,
there is no unequal fight for me.

F. Fierce is the man, a war for twenties,
it is not easy to vanquish him,
the strength of a hundred in his body, valiant his deed (?),
spears pierce him not, swords cut him not.

C. Should we happen to meet at a ford (i.e. a field of battle),
I and Ferdiad of well-known valour,
the separation shall not be without history,
fierce shall be our edge-combat.

F. Better would it be to me than reward,
O Cuchulain of the blood-stained sword,
that it was thou who carried eastward
the spoils (coscur, not corcur) of the proud Ferdiad.

C. I give thee my word with boasting,
though I am not good at bragging,
that it is I who shall gain the victory
over the son of Daman, the son of Dare.

F. It is I who gathered the forces eastwards
in revenge for my dishonour by the men of Ulster;
with me they have come from their lands,
their champions and their battle warriors.

C. If Conor had not been in his sickness
hard would have been his nearness to thee;
Medb of Magh in Scail had not made
an expedition of so loud boastings.

F. A greater deed awaits thy hand,
battle with Ferdiad son of Daman,
hardened bloody weapons, friendly is my speech,
do thou have with thee, O Cuchulain!


PAGE 124

Line 7 of O'Curry's rendering of the first stanza should run: "So that
he may take the point of a weapon through him."

Stanza 2 of the poem should run thus:


It would be better for thee to stay,
thy threats will not be gentle,
there will be some one who shall have sickness on that account,
distressful will be thy departure
to encounter the Rock of Ulster;
and ill may this venture turn out;
long will be the remembrance of it,
woe shall be to him who goeth that journey.


Line 4 of the next stanza, "I will not keep back to please you."


PAGE 126

The literal rendering of the poem seems to be:


I hear the creaking of a chariot
with a beautiful silver yoke,
the figure of a man with perfection
(rises) from the wheels of the stout chariot;
over Breg Row, over Braine
they come (?), over the highway
beside the lower part of the Burg of the Trees;
it (the chariot?) is triumphant for its victories.

It is a heroic (?) hound who drives it,
it is a trusty charioteer who yokes it,
it is a noble hawk who scourges
his horses to the south:
he is a stubborn hero,
he is certain (to cause) heavy slaughter,
it is well-known that not with indexterity (?)
is the bringing of the battle to us.

Woe for him who shall be upon the hillock
waiting for the hound who is fitly framed (lit. in harmony");
I myself declared last year
that there would come, though it be from somewhere, a hound
the Hound of Emain Macha,
the Hound with a form on which are hues of all colours,
the Hound of a territory, the Hound of battle;
I hear, we have heard.

As a second rendering of the above in a metre a little closer to the
original than that given in the text, the following may be suggested:


Shrieks from war-car wake my hearing,
Silver yokes are nigh appearing;
High his perfect form is rearing,
He those wheels who guides!
Braina, Braeg Ross past it boundeth,
Triumph song for conquests soundeth,
Lo! the roadway's course it roundeth,
Skirting wooded sides.

Hero Hound the scourge hard plieth,
Trusty servant yoke-strap tieth,
Swift as noble hawk, he flieth,
Southward urging steeds!
Hardy chief is he, and story
Soon must speak his conquests gory,
Great for skilful war his glory;
We shall know his deeds!

Thou on hill, the fierce Hound scorning,
Waitest; woe for thee is dawning;
Fitly framed he comes, my warning
Spoke him thus last year:
"Emain's Hound towards us raceth,
Guards his land, the fight he faceth,
Every hue his body graceth:"
Whom I heard, I hear.


PAGE 127

In O'Curry's rendering of the dialogue between Ferdia and his servant,
line 3 should be, "That it be not a deed of prophecy," not "a deferred
deed"; and line 6, With his proud sport."

Last stanza of the poem:


It seems thou art not without rewards,
so greatly hast thou praised him;
why else hast thou extolled him
ever since I left my house?
they who now extol the man
when he is in their sight
come not to attack him,
but are cowardly churls.


PAGE 128

Line 34.  "As a hawk darts up from the furrow."  O'Curry gives "from
the top of a cliff."  The word in the Irish is claiss.


PAGE 129

The metre of this poem, which is also the metre of all the preceeding
poems except the second in this romance, but does not occur elsewhere
in the collection, may be illustrated by quoting the original of the
fifth verse, which runs as follows:


Re funiud, re n-aidchi
Madit eicen airrthe,
Comrac dait re bairche,
Ni ba ban in gleo:
Ulaid acot gairmsiu,
Ra n-gabartar aillsiu,
Bud olc doib in taidbsiu
Rachthair thairsiu is treo.


Literal translation of the first two stanzas:


What has brought thee here, O Hound,
to fight with a strong champion?
crimson-red shall flow thy blood
over the breaths of thy steeds;
woe is thy journey:
it shall be a kindling of fuel against a house,
need shalt thou have of healing
if thou reach thy home (alive).

I have come before warriors
who gather round a mighty host-possessing prince,
before battalions, before hundreds,
to put thee under the water,
in anger with thee, and to slay thee
in a combat of hundreds of paths of battle,
so that thine shall the injury
as thou protectest thy head.


Line 2 of the fifth stanza, "Good is thy need of height."

Line 8 of the seventh stanza, "Without valour, without strength."


PAGE 133

Line 3.  Literally: "Whatever be the excellence of her beauty." A
similar literal translation for page 138, line 10, of the dialogue; the
same line occurs in verse 3 on page 148, but is not rendered in the
verse translation.


PAGE 134

Line 18.  "O Cuchulain! for beautiful feats renowned."  O'Curry gives
this as prose, but it is clearly verse in the original.


PAGE 138

Lines 5, 6 of dialogue.  "O Cuchulain! who art a breeder of wounds"
(lit. "pregnant with wounds"); "O true warrior! O true" (?accent
probably omitted) "champion!"

Lines 7, 8.  "There is need for some one" (i.e. himself) "to go to the
sod where his final resting-place shall be."  The Irish of line 7 is is
eicen do neoch a thecht, which O'Curry translates "a man is constrained
to come," and he is followed by Douglas Hyde, who renders the two lines:


Fate constrains each one to stir,
Moving towards his sepulchre.


But do neoch cannot possibly mean "every man," it means "some man;"
usually the person in question is obvious.  Compare page 125 of this
romance, line 3, which is literally: "There will be some one who shall
have sickness on that account," biaid nech diamba galar, meaning, as
here, Ferdia.

The line is an explanation of Ferdia's appearance, and is not a moral
reflection.

Line 29.  "O Cuchulain! with floods of deeds of valour," or "brimming
over with deeds, &c."


PAGE 141

Line 9.  "Four jewels of carbuncle."  This is the reading of H. 2, 17;
T.C.D; which O'Curry quotes as an alternative to "forty" of the Book of
Leinster.  "Each one of them fit to adorn it" is by O'Curry translated
"in each compartment."  The Irish is a cach aen chumtach: apparently
"for each one adornment."


PAGE 144

Line 8 of poem.  "Alas for the departing of my ghost."


PAGE 146

Lines 1, 2.  "Though he had struck off the half of my leg that is
sound, though he had smitten off half my arm."


PAGE 148

Line 5.  "Since he whom Aife bore me," literally "Never until now have
I met, since I slew Aife's only son, thy like in deeds of battle, never
have I found it, O Ferdia."  This is O'Curry's rendering; if it is
correct, and it seems to be so substantially, the passage raises a
difficulty.  Aife's only son is, according to other records, Conlaoch,
son of Cuchulain and Aife, killed by his father, who did not at the
time know who Conlaoch was.  This battle is usually represented as
having taken place at the end of Cuchulain's life; but here it is
represented as preceding the War of Cualgne, in which Cuchulain himself
is represented to be a youth.  The allusion certainly indicates an
early date for the fight with Conlaoch, and if we are to lay stress on
the age of Cuchulain at the time of the War, as recorded in the Book of
Leinster, of whose version this incident is a part, the "Son of Aife"
would not have been a son of Cuchulain at all in the mind of the writer
of this verse.  It is possible that there was an early legend of a
fight with the son of Aife which was developed afterwards by making him
the son of Cuchulain; the oldest version of this incident, that in the
Yellow Book of Lecan, reconciles the difficulty by making Conlaoch only
seven years old when he took up arms; this could hardly have been the
original version.

Line 23 of poem is literally: "It is like thrusting a spear into sand
or against the sun."

The metre of the poem "Ah that brooch of gold," and of that on page
144, commencing "Hound, of feats so fair," are unique in this
collection, and so far as I know do not occur elsewhere.  Both have
been reproduced in the original metre, and the rather complicated
rhyme-system has also been followed in that on page 148.  The first
verse of the Irish of this is


Dursan, a eo oir
a Fhirdiad na n-dam
a belc bemnig buain
ba buadach do lamh.


The last syllable of the third line has no rhyme beyond the echo in the
second syllable of the next line; oir, "gold," has no rhyme till the
word is repeated in the third line of the third verse, rhymed in the
second line of the fourth, and finally repeated at the end.  The second
verse has two final words echoed, brass and maeth; it runs thus


Do barr bude brass
ba cass, ba cain set;
do chriss duillech maeth
immut taeb gu t-ec.


The rhymes in the last two verses are exactly those of the
reproduction, they are cain sair, main, laim, chain, the other three
end rhymes being oir, choir, and oir.

Line 3 of this poem is "O hero of strong-striking blows."

Line 4.  "Triumphant was thine arm."


PAGE 149

Lines 11 and 12 of the poem.  "Go ye all to the swift battle that shall
come to you from German the green-terrible" (? of the terrible green
spear).


PAGE 150

Line 12.  The Torrian Sea is the Mediterranean.


PAGE 151

Line 15.  Literally: "Thou in death, I alive and nimble."

Line 23.  "Wars were gay, &c."  Cluchi cach, gaine cach, "Each was a
game, each was little," taking gaine as gainne, the known derivative of
gand, "scanty." O'Curry gives the meaning as "sport," and has been
followed by subsequent translators, but there does not seem any
confirmation of this rendering.


PAGE 153

Line 10.  Banba is one of the names of Ireland.



END OF VOL. I.








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