Part I

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.

VOL. II

@@{Redactors Note: In the original book the 'Literal Translation' is

printed on facing pages to the poetic translation. In this etext the

literal translation portions have been collated after the poetic

translation, for the sake of readability. Hence the page numbers are

not sequential--JBH}

PREFACE TO VOL. II

It seems to have been customary in ancient Ireland to precede by

shorter stories the recital of the Great Tain, the central story of the

Irish Heroic Age. A list of fourteen of these "lesser Tains," three of

which are lost, is given in Miss Hull's "Cuchullin Saga"; those

preserved are the Tain bo Aingen, Dartada, Flidais, Fraich, Munad,

Regamon, Regamna, Ros, Ruanadh, Sailin, and Ere. Of these, five only

have been edited, viz. the Tain bo Dartada, Flidais, Fraich, Regamon,

and Regamna; all these five are given in this volume.

The last four tales are all short, and perhaps are more truly

"preludes" (remscela) than the Tain bo Fraich, which has indeed enough

of interest in itself to make it an independent tale, and is as long as

the four put together. All the five tales have been rendered into

verse, with a prose literal translation opposite to the verse

rendering, for reasons already given in the preface to the first

volume. A short introduction, describing the manuscript authority, is

prefixed to each; they all seem to go back in date to the best literary

period, but appear to have been at any rate put into their present form

later than the Great Tain, in order to lead up to it. A possible

exception to this may be found at the end of the Tain bo Flidais, which

seems to give a different account of the end of the war of Cualgne, and

to claim that Cuchulain was defeated, and that Connaught gained his

land for its allies. It may be mentioned that the last four tales are

expressly stated in the text to be "remscela" to the Great Tain.

INTRODUCTION IN VERSE

When to an Irish court of old

Came men, who flocked from near and far

To hear the ancient tale that told

Cuchulain's deeds in Cualgne's War;

Oft, ere that famous tale began,

Before their chiefest bard they hail,

Amid the throng some lesser man

Arose, to tell a lighter tale;

He'd fell how Maev and Ailill planned

Their mighty hosts might best be fed,

When they towards the Cualgne land

All Irelands swarming armies led;

How Maev the youthful princes sent

To harry warlike Regamon,

How they, who trembling, from her went,

His daughters and his cattle won;

How Ailill's guile gained Darla's cows,

How vengeful fairies marked that deed;

How Fergus won his royal spouse

Whose kine all Ireland's hosts could feed;

How, in a form grotesque and weird,

Cuchulain found a Power Divine;

Or how in shapes of beasts appeared

The Magic Men, who kept the Swine;

Or how the rowan's guardian snake

Was roused by order of the king;

Or how, from out the water, Fraech

To Finnabar restored her ring.

And though, in greater tales, they chose

Speech mired with song, men's hearts to sway,

Such themes as these they told in prose,

Like speakers at the "Feis" to-day.

To men who spake the Irish tongue

That form of Prose was pleasing well,

While other lands in ballads sung

Such tales as these have loved to tell:

So we, who now in English dress

These Irish tales would fain

And seek their spirit to express,

Have set them down in ballad verse;

And, though to Celts the form be strange,

Seek not too much the change to blame;

'Tis but the form alone we change;

The sense, the spirit rest the same.

CONTENTS

THE PRELUDES TO THE RAID OF CUALGNE

TAIN BO FRAICH - Page 1

THE RAID FOR DARTAID'S CATTLE - Page 69

THE RAID FOR THE CATTLE OF REGAMON - Page 83

THE DRIVING OF THE CATTLE OF FLIDAIS - Page 101

THE APPARITION OF THE GREAT QUEEN TO CUCHULAIN - Page 127

APPENDIX

IRISH TEXT AND LITERAL TRANSLATION OF PART OF THE COURTSHIP OF ETAIN -

Page 143

TAIN BO FRAICH

INTRODUCTION

The Tain bo Fraich, the Driving of the Cattle of Fraech, has apparently

only one version; the different manuscripts which contain it differing

in very small points; most of which seem to be due to scribal errors.

Practically the tale consists of two quite separate parts. The first,

the longer portion, gives the adventures of Fraech at the court of

Ailill and Maev of Connaught, his courtship of their daughter,

Finnabar, and closes with a promised betrothal. The second part is an

account of an expedition undertaken by Fraech to the Alps "in the north

of the land of the Long Beards," to recover stolen cattle, as well as

his wife," who is stated by O'Beirne Crowe, on the authority of the

"Courtship of Trebland" in the Book of Fermoy, to have been Trebland, a

semi-deity, like Fraech himself. Except that Fraech is the chief actor

in both parts, and that there is one short reference at the end of the

second part to the fact that Fraech did, as he had promised in the

first part, join Ailill and Maev upon the War of Cualnge, there is no

connection between the two stories. But the difference between the two

parts is not only in the subject-matter; the difference in the style is

even yet more apparent. The first part has, I think, the most

complicated plot of any Irish romance, it abounds in brilliant

descriptions, and, although the original is in prose, it is, in

feeling, highly poetic. The second part resembles in its simplicity

and rapid action the other "fore tales" or preludes to the War of

Cualnge contained in this volume, and is of a style represented in

English by the narrative ballad.

In spite of the various characters of the two parts, the story seems to

have been regarded as one in all the manuscripts which contain it; and

the question how these two romances came to be regarded as one story

becomes interesting. The natural hypothesis would be that the last

part was the original version, which was in its earlier part re-written

by a man of genius, possibly drawing his plot from some brief statement

that Finnabar was promised to Fraech in return for the help that he and

his recovered cattle could give in the Great War; but a difficulty,

which prevents us from regarding the second part as an original legend,

at once comes in. The second part of the story happens to contain so

many references to nations outside Ireland that its date can be pretty

well fixed. Fraech and his companions go, over the sea from Ulster,

i.e. to Scotland; then through "north Saxon-land" to the sea of Icht

(i.e. the sea of Wight or the English Channel); then to the Alps in the

north of the land of the Long-Beards, or Lombards. The Long-Beards do

not appear in Italy until the end of the sixth century; the suggestion

of North Saxon-Land reaching down to the sea of Wight suggests that

there was then a South Saxon-Land, familiar to an Irish writer, dating

this part of the story as before the end of the eighth century, when

both Saxons and Long-Beards were overcome by Charlemagne. The second

part of the story is, then, no original legend, but belongs to the

seventh or eighth century, or the classical period; and it looks as if

there were two writers, one of whom, like the author of the Egerton

version of Etain, embellished the love-story part of the original

legend, leaving the end alone, while another author wrote an account of

the legendary journey of the demi-god Fraech in search for his stolen

cattle, adding the geographical and historical knowledge of his time.

The whole was then put together, like the two parts of the Etain story;

the difference between the two stories in the matter of the wife does

not seem to have troubled the compilers.

The oldest manuscript authority for the Tain bo Fraich is the Book of

Leinster, written before 1150. There are at least two other manuscript

authorities, one; in Egerton, 1782 (published by Professor Kuno Meyer

in the Zeitschrift für Celt. Philologie, 1902); the other is in MS. XL.,

Advocates' Library, Edinburgh (published in the Revue Celtique, Vol.

XXIV.). Professor Meyer has kindly allowed me to copy his comparison

of these manuscripts and his revision of O'Beirne Crowe's translation

of the Book of Leinster text. The text of the literal translation

given here follows, however, in the main O'Beirne Crowe's translation,

which is in the Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy for 1870; a few

insertions are made from the other MSS.; when so made the insertion is

indicated by a note.

For those who may be interested in the subsequent history of Fraech, it

may be mentioned that he was one of the first of the Connaught

champions to be slain by Cuchulain in the war of Cualnge; see Miss

Faraday's translation (Grimm Library, page 35).

PERSONS IN THE STORY

MORTALS

Ailill, King of Connaught.

Medb (or Maev), Queen of Connaught.

Findbar (or Finnabar), their daughter.

Froech (or Fraech), (pronounced Fraych); son of a Connaught man and a

fairy mother.

Conall Cernach (Conall the Victorious), champion of Ulster.

Two Irish women, in captivity in the Alps, north of Lombardy.

Lothar (or Lothur), a follower of Fraech.

Bicne, a follower of Conall.

IMMORTALS

Befind, Fraech's fairy mother.

Boand (pronounced like "owned"), sister to Befind; Queen of the Fairies.

Three fairy harpers.

TAIN BO FRAICH

THE RAID FOR THE CATTLE OF FRAECH

Now the news of the love of that maid to Fraech, at his home where he

dwelt, was brought,

And he called his folk, and with all he spoke, and for speech with the

maid he sought:

And they counselled him thus: "Let a message from thee be sent to thy

fairy kin

To entreat their aid when we seek that maid; a boon we may chance to

win:

For the wondrous robes of the fairy land, and for gifts from the

fairies plead;

And sure thy mother's sister's hand will give to thee all thy need."

To Mag Breg,[FN#1] where his mother's sister dwelt, to Boand he away

hath gone,

And she gave to him mantles of dark black-blue, like a beetle's back

they shone:

Four dark-grey rings in each cloak she gave were sewn, and a brooch

shone, bright

With the good red gold in each mantle's fold; she gave tunics pale and

white,

And the tunics were bordered with golden loops, that forms as of beasts

displayed;

And a fifty she added of well-rimmed shields, that of silver white were

made.

[FN#1] Pronounced Maw Brayg.

Then away they rode, in each hero's hand was a torch for a kingly hall,

For studs of bronze, and of well-burned gold, shone bright on the

spears of all;

On carbuncle sockets the spears were set, their points with jewels

blazed;

And they lit the night, as with fair sunlight, as men on their glory

gazed.

By each of the fifty heroes' side was a sword with a hilt of gold;

And a soft-grey mare was for each to ride, with a golden curb

controlled;

At each horse's throat was a silver plate, and in front of that plate

was swung,

With a tinkling sound to the horse's tread, a bell with a golden tongue.

on each steed was a housing of purple hide, with threads of silver

laced,

And with spiral stitch of the silver threads the heads of beasts were

traced,

And each housing was buckled with silver and gold: of findruine[FN#2]

was made the whip

For each rider to hold, with a crook of gold where it came to the horse

man's grip.

[FN#2] Pronounced "find-roony," the unknown "white-bronze" metal.

By their sides, seven chase-hounds were springing

At leashes of silver they strained,

And each couple a gold apple, swinging

On the fetter that linked them, sustained:

And their feet with bronze sheaths had been guarded,

As if greaves for defence they had worn,

Every hue man hath seen, or hath fancied,

By those chase-hounds in brilliance was borne.

Seven trumpeters strode on the road before, with colour their cloaks

were bright,

And their coats, that shone with the gauds they wore, flashed back as

they met the light;

On trumpets of silver and gold they blew, and sweet was the trumpets'

sound,

And their hair, soft and yellow, like fairy threads, shone golden their

shoulders round.

Three jesters marched in the van, their-crowns were of silver, by gilt

concealed,

And emblems they. carried of quaint device, engraved on each jester's

shield;

They had staves which with crests were adorned, and ribs down their

edges in red bronze ran;

Three harp-players moved by the jesters' sides, and each was a kingly

man.

All these were the gifts that the fairy gave, and gaily they made their

start,

And to Croghan's[FN#3] hold, in that guise so brave, away did the host

depart.

[FN#3] Pronounced Crow-han.

On the fort stands a watchman to view them,

And thus news down to Croghan he calls:

"From yon plain comes, in fulness of numbers,

A great army to Croghan's high walls;

And, since Ailill the throne first ascended,

Since the day we hailed Maev as our Queen,

Never army so fair nor so splendid

Yet hath come, nor its like shall be seen."

"'Tis strange," said he," as dipped in wine,

So swims, so reels my head,

As o'er me steals the breath divine

Of perfume from them shed."

"A fair youth," said he, "forth with them goeth,

And the grace of such frolicsome play,

And such lightness in leap as he showeth

Have I seen not on earth till to-day:

For his spear a full shot's length he flingeth,

Yet the spear never reacheth to ground,

For his silver-chained hounds follow after,

In their jaws is the spear ever found!"

The Connaught hosts without the fort

To see that glory rushed:

Sixteen within, of baser sort,

Who gazed, to death were crushed.

To the fort came the youths, from their steeds they leapt, for the

steeds and the stabling cared,

And they loosed the hounds that in leash they kept, for the hunt were

the hounds prepared;

Seven deer, seven foxes and hares, they chased to the dun on Croghan's

plain,

Seven boars they drave, on the lawn in haste the game by the youths was

slain:

With a bound they dashed into Bree, whose flood by the lawns of Croghan

flows;

Seven otters they caught in its stream, and brought to a hill where the

gateway rose.

'Twas there that Fraech and the princes sat at the castle-gate to rest,

And the steward of Croghan with Fraech would speak, for such was the

king's behest:

Of his birth it was asked, and the men he led all truth to the herald

spake:

"It is Idath's son who is here," they said, and they gave him the name

of Fraech.

To Ailill and Maev went the steward back of the stranger's name to tell;

"Give him welcome," said they: "Of a noble race is that youth, and I

know it well;

Let him enter the court of our house," said the king, the gateway they

opened wide;

And the fourth of the palace they gave to Fraech, that there might his

youths abide.

Fair was the palace that there they found,

Seven great chambers were ranged it round;

Right to the walls of the house they spread,

Facing the hall, where the fire glowed red:

Red yew planks, that had felt the plane,

Dappled the walls with their tangled grain:

Rails of bronze at the side-walls stood,

Plates of bronze had made firm the wood,

Seven brass bolts to the roof-tree good

Firmly the vaulting tied.

All that house had of pine been made,

Planks, as shingles, above were laid;

Sixteen windows the light let pass,

Each in a frame of the shining brass:

High through the roof was the sky seen bright;

Girder of brass made that opening tight,

Under the gap it was stretched, and light

Fell on its gleaming side.

All those chambers in splendour excelling,

The midmost of all in the ring,

Rose a room, set apart as the dwelling

Of Queen Maev, and of Ailill the king.

Four brass columns the awning supported

For their couch, there was bronze on the wall;

And two rails, formed of silver, and gilded,

In that chamber encircled it all:

In the front, to mid-rafters attaining,

Rose in silver a wand from the floor;

And with rooms was that palace engirdled,

For they stretched from the door to the door.

'Twas there they went to take repose,

On high their arms were hung;

And down they sank, and welcome rose,

Acclaimed by every tongue.

By the queen and the king they were welcome made, the strangers they

turned to greet;

And their courtesy graciously Fraech repaid: "'Twas thus we had hoped

to meet."

"Not for boasting to-day are ye come!" said Maev; the men for the chess

she set:

And a lord of the court in the chess-man sport by Fraech in a match was

met.

'Twas a marvellous board of findruine fair was prepared, when they

played that game,

Four handles, and edges of gold it had, nor needed they candles' flame;

For the jewels that blazed at the chess-board's side, a light, as from

lamps, would yield;

And of silver and gold were the soldiers made, who engaged on that

mimic field.

"Get ye food for the chiefs!" said the king; said Maev, "Not yet, 'tis

my will to stay,

To sit with the strangers, and here with Fraech in a match at the chess

to play!"

"Let thy game be played!" said Ailill then, "for it pleaseth me none

the less:"

And Queen Maev and Fraech at the chess-board sate, and they played at

the game of chess.

Now his men, as they played, the wild beasts late caught were cooking,

they thought to feed;

And said Ailill to Fraech, "Shall thy harpmen play?" "Let them play,"

said Fraech, "indeed:"

Now those harpers were wondrous men, by their sides they had sacks of

the otter's skin,

And about their bodies the sacks were tied, and they carried their

harps within,

With stitches of silver and golden thread each case for a harp was

sewed;

And, beneath the embroidery gleaming red, the shimmer of rubies showed!

The skin of a roe about them in the middle, it was as white as snow;

black-grey eyes in their centre. Cloaks of linen as white as the tunic

of a swan around these ties.[FN#4] Harps of gold and silver and

bronze, with figures of serpents and birds, and hounds of gold and

silver: as they moved those strings those figures used to run about the

men all round.

[FN#4] This is the Egerton version, which is clearly right here. The

Book of Leinster gives: "These figures accordingly used to run," &c.,

leaving out all the first part of the sentence, which is required to

make the meaning plain.

They play for them then so that twelve of the people[FN#5] of Ailill

and Medb die with weeping and sadness.

[FN#5] The Book of Leinster omits "of Ailill and Medb."

Gentle and melodious were the triad, and they were the Chants of

Uaithne[FN#6] (Child-birth). The illustrious triad are three brothers,

namely Gol-traiges (Sorrow-strain), and Gen-traiges (Joy-strain), and

Suan-traiges (Sleep-strain). Boand from the fairies is the mother of

the triad:

[FN#6] Pronounced something like Yew-ny.

At every one of the harpers' waists was girded the hide of a roe,

And black-grey spots in its midst were placed, but the hide was as

white as snow;

And round each of the three of them waved a cloak, as white as the wild

swan's wings:

Gold, silver, and bronze were the harps they woke; and still, as they

touched the strings,

The serpents, the birds, and the hounds on the harps took life at the

harps' sweet sound,

And those figures of gold round the harpmen rose, and floated in music

round.

Then they played, sweet and sad was the playing,

Twelve of Ailill's men died, as they heard;

It was Boand[FN#7] who foretold them that slaying,

And right well was accomplished her word.

[FN#7] Pronounced with sound of "owned."

'Tis the three Chants of Child-Birth

Give names to those Three;

Of the Harp of the Dagda[FN#8]

The children they be.

[FN#8] The Dagda seems to have been the chief god of the old Celtic

mythology.

To those harpers a fairy

Is mother, of yore

To that Harp, men call Child-Birth,

Queen Boand the three bore.

They are three noble brothers,

And well are they known;

They are kindly and gentle,

And tuneful of tone.

One is Joy-Song, one Sorrow's,

One, "Song that gives Sleep,"

And the Harp's strains, their father's,

Remembered they keep.

For when Boand was at bearing,

Came Sorrow the first,

From the Harp, its strings tearing

With cry, Sorrow burst.

Then there came to her pleasure

For birth of a boy;

And a sweet smiling measure

The Harp played, 'twas Joy.

And she swooned in her anguish,

For hard the third birth:

From the Harp, her pains soothing,

Sleep's strain came on earth.

Then from Boand passed her slumber,

And, "Uaithne,"[FN#9] she cried,

Thy three sons, thou sharp Child-Birth,

I take to my side.

[FN#9] Pronounced something like Yew-ny.

Cows and women by Ailill

And Maev shall be slain;

For on these cometh Sorrow,

And Joy, and Sleep's strain:

Yea, and men, who these harpers,

Thy children, shall hear,

By their art to death stricken,

Shall perish in fear."

Then the strains died away in the palace,

The last notes seemed to sink, and to cease:

"It was stately," said Fergus, "that music."

And on all came a silence, and peace.

Said Fraech, "The food divide ye!

Come, bring ye here the meat!"

And down to earth sank Lothar,

On floor he set his feet;

He crouched, on haunches sitting,

The joints with sword he split;

On bones it fell unerring,

No dainty part he hit!

Though long with sword he hewed, and long

Was meat by men supplied,

His hand struck true; for never wrong

Would Lothar meat divide.

Three days at the chess had they played; three nights, as they sat at

the game, had gone:

And they knew not the night for the sparkling light from the jewels of

Fraech that shone;

But to Maev turned Fraech, and he joyously cried, "I have conquered

thee well at the chess!

Yet I claim not the stake at the chess-board's side, lest thy palace's

wealth be less."

"For no lengthier day have I sat in such play," said Maev, "since I

here first came."

"And well may the day have seemed long," said Fraech, "for three days

and three nights was the game!"

Then up started Maev, and in shame she blushed that the chiefs she had

failed to feed;

To her husband, King Ailill, in wrath she rushed: "We have both done a

goodly deed!

For none from our stores hath a banquet brought for the youths who are

strangers here!"

And said Ailill, "In truth for the play was thy thought, and to thee

was the chess more dear."

"We knew not that darkness had come," said Maev, "'tis not chess thou

should'st thus condemn;

Though the day had gone, yet the daylight shone from the heart of each

sparkling gem;

Though the game we played, all could meal have made, had men brought of

the night advice,

But the hours sped away, and the night and the day have approached and

have fled from us thrice!"

"Give command," said the king, "that those wailing chants, till we give

them their food, be stilled."

And food to the hands of each they gave, and all with the meat were

filled;

And all things merrily went, for long the men with a feast were fed,

For, as feasting they sat, thrice rose the day, thrice night above

earth was spread.

They brought Fraech, when that banquet was ended,

To the House of Debate, which was near,

And they asked of his errand: "In friendship,

For a visit," said Fraech, "am I here!"

"And 'twas joy that we felt, when receiving

This your host," said the king, "ye have brought

Much of pleasure to all, and with grieving,

When ye go, shall your presence be sought!"

"Then," said Fraech, "for a week we abide here."

For two weeks in that dun they abode:

And the Connaught men pressed round to view them,

As each eve home from hunting they rode.

Yet Fraech was sad, with Findabar

A word he sought in vain;

Though he in truth from home so far

Had come that word to gain.

Fraech, as night was ending,

Sprang from out his bed;

Sought the brook, intending

There to lave his head.

There King Ailill's daughter

Stood, and there her maid:

They that hour from water

Sought the cleansing aid.

"Stay," he cried, and speaking

Caught the maiden's hand;

"Thee alone as seeking,

I have reached this land:

Here am I who sought thee,

Stay, and hear me woo!"

"Ah! thy speech hath brought me

Joy," she said, "most true;

Yet, thy side if nearing,

What for thee can I?"

"Maid!" he cried, "art fearing

Hence with me to fly?"

"Flight I hold disloyal,"

Answered she in scorn;

"I from mother royal,

I to king was born;

What should stay our wedding?

None so mean or poor

Thou hast seemed, nor dreading

Kin of mine; be sure:

I will go! 'tis spoken,

Thou beloved shalt be!

Take this ring as token,

Lent by Maev to me!

'Twas my mother who bid me to save it,

For the ring she in secret would hide;

'Tis as pledge of our love that I gave it,

As its pledge it with thee should abide.

Till that ring we can freely be showing

I will tell them I put it astray!"

And, the love of each other thus knowing,

Fraech and Finnabar went on their way.

"I have fear," said the king, "that with Fraech yon maid to his home as

his wife would fly;

Yet her hand he may win, if he rides on the Raid with his kine when the

time draws nigh."

Then Fraech to the Hall of Debate returned, and he cried: "Through Some

secret chink

Hath a whisper passed?" and the king replied, "Thou would'st fit in

that space, I think!"

"Will ye give me your daughter?" said Fraech: said the king, "In sight

of our hosts she goes;

If, as gift to suffice for her marriage price, thy hand what I ask

bestows."

"I will give thee what price thou dost name," said Fraech, "and now let

its sum be told!"'

"Then a sixty steeds do I claim," said the king, "dark-grey, and with

bits of gold;

And twelve milch-cows, from their udders shall come the milk in a

copious stream,

And by each of the cows a white calf shall run; bright red on its ears

shall gleam;

And thou, with thy harpers and men, shalt ride by my side on the

Cualgne[FN#10] Raid,

And when all thy kine driven here shall stand, shall the price of her

hand be paid!"

[FN#10] Pronounced Kell-ny.

Now I swear by the edge of my sword," said Fraech, "I swear by my arms

and shield,

I would give no such pledge, even Maev to take, were it her thou wert

fain to yield!"

And he went from the House of Debate, but Maev with Ailill bent low in

plot:

All around us our foes," said the king, "shall close, if Finnabar stays

here not;

Many kings of Erin, who seek that maid, shall hear of her borne away,

And in wrath they will rush on our land; 'twere best that Fraech we

devise to slay;

Ere that ruin he bring, let us make our spring, and the ill yet

unwrought arrest."

"It were pity such deed should be done," said Maev, "and to slay in our

house our guest!

'Twill bring shame on us ever." "No shame to our house," said King

Ailill, "that death shall breed!"

(And he spake the words twice)--"but now hear my advice, how I plan we

should do this deed."

All the plot had been planned; to their house at last

King Ailill and Maev through the doorway passed;

And the voice of the king uprose:

"'Tis now that the hounds should their prey pursue,

Come away to the hunt who the hounds would view;

For noon shall that hunting close."

So forth went they all, on the chase intent,

And they followed till strength of the hounds was spent,

And the hunters were warm; and to bathe they went

Where the river of Croghan flows.

And, "'Tis told me," said Ailill, "that Fraech hath won

A great fame for the feats he in floods hath done:

Wilt thou enter these streams by our side that run?

We are longing to see thee swim!"

And said Fraech: "Is it good then indeed thy stream?

And said Ailill: "Of danger no need to dream,

For many a youth from the Connaught Court

In its current hath bathed, and hath swum it in sport,

Nor of any who tried have we heard report

That ill hath been found by him!"

Then Fraech from his body his garments stripped,

And he sprang down the bank, and he swiftly slipped

In the stream: and the king's glance fell

On a belt, left by Fraech on the bank; the king

Bent low; in the purse saw his daughter's ring,

And the shape of the ring could tell.

"Come hither, O Maev," Ailill softly cried;

And Queen Maev came up close to her husband's side

"Dost thou know of that ring?" in the purse she spied

The ring, and she knew it well.

Then Ailill the ring from the purse withdrew,

And away from the bank the fair gem he threw;

And the ring, flashing bright, through the air far flew,

To be lost in the flood's swift swell.

And Fraech saw the gem as it brightly flashed,

And a salmon rose high, at the light it dashed,

And, as back in the stream with the ring he splashed,

At the fish went Fraech with a spring:

By its jole was the salmon secured, and thrown

To a nook in the bank, that by few was known;

And unnoticed he threw it, to none was it shown

As it fell to the earth, with the ring.

And now Fraech from the stream would be going:

But, "Come not," said the king, "to us yet:

Bring a branch from yon rowan-tree, showing

Its fair berries, with water-drops wet."

Then Fraech, swimming away through the water,

Brake a branch from the dread rowan-tree,

And a sigh came from Ailill's fair daughter;

"Ah! how lovely he seemeth," said she.

Fair she found him, swimming

Through that pool so black

Brightly gleamed the berries,

Bound athwart his back.

White and smooth his body,

Bright his glorious hair;

Eyes of perfect greyness,

Face of men most fair:

Soft his skin, no blemish,

Fault, nor spot it flawed;

Small his chin, and steady,

Brave his brow, and broad.

Straight he seemed, and stainless;

Twixt his throat and chin

Straying scarlet berries

Touched with red his skin.

Oft, that sight recalling,

Findabar would cry:

"Ne'er was half such beauty,

Naught its third came nigh!"

To the bank he swam, and to Ailill was thrown, with its berries, the

tree's torn limb:

"Ah! how heavy and fair have those clusters grown; bring us more," and

he turned to swim;

The mid-current was reached, but the dragon was roused that was guard

to that rowan-tree;

And it rose from the river, on Fraech it rushed: "Throw a sword from

the bank!" cried he.

And no man on the bank gave the sword: they were kept by their fear of

the queen and the king;

But her clothes from her Finnabar stripped, and she leapt in the river

his sword to bring.

And the king from above hurled his five-barbed spear; the full length

of a shot it sped:

At his daughter it flew, and its edge shore through two tresses that

crowned her head:

And Fraech in his hand caught the spear as it fell, and backward its

point he turned.

And again to the land was the spear launched well: 'twas a feat from

the champions learned.

Though the beast bit his side as that spear was cast, yet fiercely the

dart was flung,

Through the purple robe of the king it passed, through the tunic that

next him clung!

Then up sprang the youths of the court, their lord in danger they well

might deem,

But the strong hand of Fraech had closed firm on the sword, and

Finnabar rose from the stream.

Now with sword in his hand, at the monster's head hewed Fraech, on its

side it sank,

And he came from the river with blade stained red, and the monster he

dragged to the bank.

Twas then Bree's Dub-lind in the Connaught land the Dark Water of

Fraech was named,

From that fight was it called, but the queen and the king went back to

their dun, ashamed!

"It is noble, this deed we have done!" said Maev: "'Tis pitiful,"

Ailill cried:

"For the hurt of the man I repent, but to her, our daughter, shall woe

betide!

On the morrow her lips shall be pale, and none shall be found to aver

that her guilt,

When the sword for his succour to Fraech she gave, was the cause why

her life was spilt!

Now see that a bath of fresh bacon broth be prepared that shall heal

this prince,

And bid them with adze and with axe the flesh of a heifer full small to

mince:

Let the meat be all thrown in the bath, and there for healing let

Fraech be laid!"

And all that he ordered was done with care; the queen his command

obeyed.

Then arose from Fraech's trumpets complaining,

As his men travelled back to the dun;

Their soft notes lamentation sustaining,

And a many their deaths from them won;

And he well knew its meaning;

And, "Lift me, my folk,"

He cried, "surely that keening

From Boand's women broke:

My mother, the Fairy, is nigh."

Then they raised him, and bore him

Where wild rose the sound;

To his kin they restored him;

His women pressed round:

And he passed from their sight out of Croghan;

For that night from earth was he freed,

And he dwelt with his kin, the Sid-Dwellers

In the caverns of Croghan's deep Sid.[FN#11]

[FN#11] Pronounced Sheed; Sid is the fairy mound.

All at nine, next morrow,

Gazed, for back he came,

Round their darling pressing

Many a fairy dame:

Brave he seemed, for healing

All his wounds had got;

None could find a blemish,

None a sear or spot.

Fifty fairies round him,

Like in age and grace;

Like each form and bearing;

Like each lovely face.

All in fairy garments,

All alike were dressed;

None was found unequal;

None surpassed the rest.

And the men who stood round, as they neared them,

Were struck with a marvellous awe;

They were moved at the sight, and they feared them,

And hardly their breath they could draw.

At the Liss all the fairies departed,

But on Fraech, as they vanished, they cried:

And the sound floated in of their wailing,

And it thrilled through the men, and they sighed.

Then first that mournful measure,

"The Ban-Shee[FN#12] Wail," was heard;

All hearts with grief and pleasure

That air, when harped, hath stirred.

[FN#12] Spelt "Ban Side," the fairy women.

To the dun came Fraech, and the hosts arose, and welcome by all was

shown:

For it seemed as if then was his birth among men, from a world to the

earth unknown!

Up rose for him Maev and King Ailill, their fault they confessed, and

for grace they prayed,

And a penance they did, and for all that assault they were pardoned,

and peace was made.

And now free from all dread, they the banquet spread, the banqueting

straight began:

But a thought came to Fraech, and from out of his folk he called to his

side a man.

"Now hie thee," he said, "to the river bank, a salmon thou there shalt

find;

For nigh to the spot where in stream I sank, it was hurled, and 'twas

left behind;

To Finnabar take it, and bid her from me that the salmon with skill she

broil:

In the midst of the fish is the ring: and none but herself at the task

must toil;

And to-night, as I think, for her ring they call ": then he turned to

the feast again,

And the wine was drunk, and the revellers sunk, for the fumes of it

seized their brain,

And music and much of delights they had; but the king had his plans

laid deep,

"Bring ye all of my jewels," he cried-on the board they were poured in

a dazzling heap.

"They are wonderful, wonderful!" cried they all: "Call Finnabar!" said

the king;

And his daughter obeyed, and her fifty maids stood round in a lovely

ring.

My daughter," said Ailill, "a ring last year I gave thee, is't here

with thee yet?

Bring it hither to show to the chiefs, and anon in thy hand shall the

gem be set."

"That jewel is lost," said the maid, "nor aught of the fate of the ring

I know!"

Then find it," said Ailill, "the ring must be brought, or thy soul from

thy limbs must go!"

"Now, nay!" said they all, "it were cruel

That such fate for such fault should be found:

Thou hast many a fair-flashing jewel

In these heaps that lie scattered around!"

And said Fraech: "Of my jewels here glowing

Take thy fill, if the maid be but freed;

'Tis to her that my life I am owing,

For she brought me the sword in my need."

"There is none of thy gems that can aid her,"

Said Ailill, "nor aught thou canst give;

There is one thing alone that shall save her;

If the ring be restored, she shall live!

Said Finnabar; "Thy treasure

To yield no power is mine:

Do thou thy cruel pleasure,

For strength, I know, is thine."

"By the god whom our Connaught land haileth,

I swear," answered Ailill the king,

"That the life on thy lips glowing faileth,

If thou place in my hand not the ring!"

And that hard," he laughed softly, "the winning

Of that jewel shall be, know I well;

They who died since the world had beginning

Shall come back to the spot where they fell

Ere that ring she can find, and can bear it

To my hand from the spot where 'twas tossed,

And as knowing this well, have I dared her

To restore what for aye hath been lost!"

"No ring for treasure thus despised,"

She said, "exchanged should be;

Yet since the king its worth hath prized,

I'll find the gem for thee!"

Not thus shalt thou fly," said the king, "to thy maid let the quest of

the ring be bid!"

And his daughter obeyed, and to one whom she sent she told where the

ring was hid:

"But," Finnabar cried, "by my country's god I swear that from out this

hour,

Will I leave this land, and my father's hand shall no more on my life

have power,

And no feasting shall tempt me to stay, no draughts of wine my resolve

shall shake!"

"No reproach would I bring, if as spouse," said the king, "thou a groom

from my stalls would'st take!

But that ring must be found ere thou goest! "Then back came her maid,

and a dish she bore:

And there lay a salmon well broiled, as sauce with honey 'twas

garnished o'er:

By the daughter of Ailill herself with skill had the honey-sweet sauce

been made.

And high on the breast of the fish, the ring of gold that they sought

was laid.

King Ailill and Maev at the ring gazed hard; Fraech looked, in his

purse he felt:

Now it seemeth," he said, "'twas to prove my host that I left on the

bank my belt,

And Ailill now I challenge

All truth, as king to tell;

What deed his cunning fashioned,

And what that ring befell."

"There is naught to be hidden," said Ailill;

"It was mine, in thy purse though it lay

And my daughter I knew as its giver:

So to river I hurled it away.

Now Fraech in turn I challenge

By life and honour's claim:

Say how from yon dark water

That ring to draw ye came."

"There is naught to be hidden," he answered,

"The first day that I came, on the earth,

Near the court round thy house, was that jewel;

And I saw all its beauty and worth:

In my purse then I hid it; thy daughter,

Who had lost it, with care for it sought;

And the day that I went to that water

Was the news of her search to me brought:

And I asked what reward she would give me,

If the gem in her hand should be placed;

And she answered that I, if I found it,

For a year by her love should be graced.

But not then could the ring be delivered:

For afar in my chamber it lay:

Till she gave me the sword in the river,

We met not again on that day.

'Twas then I saw thee open

My purse, and take the ring:

I watched, and towards the water

That gem I saw thee fling:

I saw the salmon leaping,

The ring it caught, and sank:

I came behind, and seized it;

And brought the fish to bank.

Then I wrapped it up close in my mantle;

And 'twas hid from inquisitive eyes;

And in Finnabar's hand have I placed it:

And now there on the platter it lies!"

Now all who this or that would know

To ask, and praise began:

Said Finnabar, "I'll never throw

My thoughts on other man!"

Now hear her word," her parents cried,

"And plight to her thy troth,

And when for Cualgne's[FN#13] kine we ride

Do thou redeem thine oath.

[FN#13] Pronounced Kell-ny.

And when with kine from out the east

Ye reach our western land;

That night shall be thy marriage feast;

And thine our daughter's hand."

"Now that oath will I take," answered back to them Fraech, "and the

task ye have asked will do!"

So he tarried that night till the morning's light; and they feasted the

whole night through;

And then homewards bound, with his comrades round, rode Fraech when the

night was spent,

And to Ailill and Maev an adieu he gave, and away to their land they

went.

TAIN BO FRAICH

Part I

LITERAL TRANSLATION

FRAECH, son of Idath of the men of Connaught, a son he to Befind from

the Side: a sister she to Boand. He is the hero who is the most

beautiful that was of the men of Eriu and of Alba, but he was not

long-lived. His mother gave him twelve cows out of the Sid (the fairy

mound), they are white-eared. He had a good housekeeping till the end

of eight years without the taking of a wife. Fifty sons of kings, this

was the number of his household, co-aged, co-similar to him all between

form and instruction. Findabair, daughter of Ailill and Medb, loves him

for the great stories about him. It is declared to him at his house.

Eriu and Alba were full of his renown and the stories about him.

To Fraech[FN#14] was Idath[FN#15] father,

A Connaught man was he:

And well we know his mother

Who dwells among the Shee;[FN#16]

Befind they call her, sister

To Boand,[FN#17] the Fairy Queen;

And Alba ne'er, nor Erin,

Such grace as Fraech's hath seen.

Yet wondrous though that hero's grace,

His fairy lineage high,

For years but few his lovely face

Was seen by human eye.

[FN#14] Pronounced Fraych.

[FN#15] Pronounced Eeda.

[FN#16] The Fairies.

[FN#17] Pronounced with the sound of "owned."

Fraech had twelve of white-eared fairy-cattle,

'Twas his mother those cattle who gave:

For eight years in his home he dwelt wifeless,

And the state of his household was brave;

Fifty princes, whose age, and whose rearing,

And whose forms were as his, with him played;

And his glory filled Alba and Erin

Till it came to the ears of a maid:

For Maev and Ailill's[FN#18] lovely child,

Fair Findabar, 'twas said,

By tales of Fraech to love beguiled,

With Fraech in love would wed.

[FN#18] Pronounced Al-ill.

After this going to a dialogue with the maiden occurred to him; he

discussed that matter with his people.

"Let there be a message then sent to thy mother's sister, so that a

portion of wondrous robing and of gifts from the Side (fairy folk) be

given thee from her." He goes accordingly to the sister, that is to

Boand, till he was in Mag Breg, and he carried away fifty dark-blue

cloaks, and each of them was like the back of a black chafer,[FN#19]

and four black-grey, rings on each cloak, and a brooch of red gold on

each cloak, and pale white tunics with loop-animals of gold around

them. And fifty silver shields with edges, and a candle of a

king's-house in the hand of them (the men), and fifty studs of

findruine[FN#20] on each of them (the lances), fifty knobs of

thoroughly burned gold on each of them; points (i.e. butt-ends) of

carbuncle under them beneath, and their point of precious stones. They

used to light the night as if they were the sun's rays.

[FN#19] The Book of Leinster gives "fifty blue cloaks, each like

findruine of art."

[FN#20] Pronounced "find-roony," the unknown "white-bronze" metal.

And there were fifty gold-hilted swords with them, and a soft-grey

mare under the seat of each man, and bits of gold to them;

a plate of silver with a little bell of gold around the neck of each

horse. Fifty caparisons[FN#21] of purple with threads of silver out of

them, with buckles of gold and silver and with head-animals (i.e.

spiral ornaments). Fifty whips of findruine, with a golden hook on the

end of each of them. And seven chase-hounds in chains of silver, and

an apple of gold between each of them. Greaves of bronze about them,

by no means was there any colour which was not on the hounds.

[FN#21] The word for caparisons is "acrann," the usual word for a

shoe. It is suggested that here it may be a caparison of leather:

"shoes" seem out of place here. See Irische Texts, iii.

Seven trumpeters with them with golden and silver trumpets with many

coloured garments, with golden fairy-yellow heads of hair, with shining

tunics. There were three jesters before them with silver diadems under

gilding. Shields with engraved emblems (or marks of distinction) with

each of them; with crested staves, with ribs of bronze (copper-bronze)

along their sides. Three harp-players with a king's appearance about

each of them opposite to these.[FN#22] They depart for Cruachan with

that appearance on them.

[FN#22] The word for caparisons is "acrann," the usual word for a

shoe. It is suggested that here it may be a caparison of leather:

"shoes" seem out of place here. See Irische Texts, iii. 2. p. 531.

The watchman sees them from the dun when they had come into the plain

of Cruachan. "A multitude I see," he says, "(come) towards the dun in

their numbers. Since Ailill and Maev assumed sovereignty there came

not to them before, and there shall not come to them, a multitude,

which is more beautiful, or which is more splendid. It is the same

with me that it were in a vat of wine my head should be, with the

breeze that goes over them.

"The manipulation and play that the young hero who is in it makes--I

have not before seen its likeness. He shoots his pole a shot's

discharge from him; before it reaches to earth the seven chase-hounds

with their seven silver chains catch it."

At this the hosts come from the dun of Cruachan to view them. The

people in the dun smother one another, so that sixteen men die while

viewing them.

They alight in front of the dun. They tent their steeds, and they

loose the chase-hounds. They (the hounds) chase the seven deer to

Rath-Cruachan, and seven foxes, and seven hares, and seven wild boars,

until the youths kill them in the lawn of the dun. After that the

chase-hounds dart a leap into Brei; they catch seven otters. They

brought them to the elevation in front of the chief rath. They (Fraech

and his suite) sit down there.

A message comes from the king for a parley with them. It is asked

whence they came, they name themselves according to their true names,

"Fraech, son of Idath this," say they. The steward tells it to the

king and queen. "Welcome to them," say Ailill and Maev; "It is a noble

youth who is there," says Ailill, "let him come into the Liss (outer

court)." The fourth of the house is allotted to them. This was the

array of the house, a seven fold order in it; seven apartments from

fire to side-wall in the house all round. A rail (or front) of bronze

to each apartment; a partitioning of red yew under variegated planing

all.

Three plates of bronze in the skirting of each apartment. Seven plates

of brass from the ceiling (?) to the roof-tree in the house.

Of pine the house was made; it is a covering of shingle it had

externally. There were sixteen windows in the house, and a frame of

brass, to each of them; a tie of brass across the roof-light. Four

beams of brass on the apartment of Ailill and Medb, adorned all with

bronze, and it in the exact centre of the house. Two rails of silver

around it under gilding. In the front a wand of silver that reached

the middle rafters of the house. The house was encircled all round

from the door to the other.[FN#23]

[FN#23] It should be noted that it is not certain whether the word

"imdai," translated apartments, really means "apartments" or "benches."

The weight of opinion seems at present to take it as above.

They hang up their arms in that house, and they sit, and welcome is

made to them.

"Welcome to you," say Ailill and Medb. "It is that we have come for,"

says Fraech. "It shall not be a journey for boasting[FN#24] this,"

says Medb, and Ailill and Medb arrange the chess-board after that.

Fraech then takes to the playing of chess with a man of their (?)

people.

[FN#24] This is the rendering in the Yellow Book of Lecan, considered

by Meyer to be the true reading. The Book of Leinster text gives

"aig-baig," a word of doubtful meaning. The Eg. MS. has also a

doubtful word.

It was a beauty of a chess-board. A board of findruine in it with four

ears[FN#25] and edges of gold. A candle of precious stones at

illuminating for them. Gold and silver the figures that were upon the

table. "Prepare ye food for the warriors," said Ailill. "Not it is my

desire," said Medb, but to go to the chess yonder against Fraech."

"Get to it, I am pleased," said Ailill, and they play the chess then,

and Fraech.

[FN#25] The "ears" were apparently handles shaped like ears. The same

word is used for the rings in the cloaks, line 33 above.

His people were meanwhile at cooking the wild animals. "Let thy

harpers play for us," says Ailill to Fraech. "Let them play indeed!"

says Fraech. A harp-bag[FN#26] of the skins of otters about them with

their adornment of ruby (or coral), beneath their adornment of gold and

silver.

[FN#26] Meyer translates this: "the concave part of the harp."

It is from the music which Uaithne, the Dagda's harp, played that the

three are named. The time the woman was at the bearing of children it

had a cry of sorrow with the soreness of the pangs at first: it was

smile and joy it played in the middle for the pleasure of bringing

forth the two sons: it was a sleep of soothingness played the last son,

on account of the heaviness of the birth, so that it is from him that

the third of the music has been named.

Boand awoke afterwards out of the sleep. "I accept," she says, "thy

three sons O Uaithne of full ardour, since there is Suan-traide and

Gen-traide, and Gol-traide on cows and women who shall fall by Medb and

Ailill, men who shall perish by the hearing of art from them."

They cease from playing after that in the palace: "It is stately it has

come," says Fergus. "Divide ye to us," says Fraech to his people,

"the food, bring ye it into the house." Lothur went on the floor of

the house: he divides to them the food. On his haunches he used to

divide each joint with his sword, and he used not to touch the food

part: since he commenced dividing, he never hacked the meat beneath his

hand.

They were three days and three nights at the playing of the chess on

account of the abundance of the precious stones in the household of

Fraech. After that Fraech addressed Medb. "It is well I have played

against thee (i.e. have beaten thee)," he says, "I take not away thy

stake from the chess-board that there be not a decay of hospitality for

thee in it."

"Since I have been in this dun this is the day which I deem longest in

it ever," says Medb. "This is reasonable," says Fraech, "they are

three days and three nights in it." At this Medb starts up. It was a

shame with her that the warriors were without food. She goes to

Ailill: she tells it to him. "A great deed we have done," said she,

"the stranger men who have come to us to be without food." "Dearer to

thee is playing of the chess," says Ailill. "It hinders not the

distribution to his suite throughout the house. They have been three

days and three nights in it but that we perceived not the night with

the white light of the precious stones in the house." "Tell them,"

says Ailill, "to cease from the lamenting until distribution is made to

them." Distribution is then made to them, and things were pleasing to

them, and they stayed three days and three nights in it after that over

the feasting.

It is after that Fraech was called into the house of conversation, and

it is asked of him what brought him. "A visit with you," said he, "is

pleasing to me." "Your company is indeed not displeasing with the

household," said Ailill, "your addition is better than your diminution."

"We shall stay here then," says Fraech, "another week." They stay

after that till the end of a fortnight in the dun, and they have a hunt

every single day towards the dun. The men of Connaught used to come to

view them.

It was a trouble with Fraech not to have a conversation with the

daughter: for that was the profit that had brought him. A certain day

he starts up at the end of night for washing to the stream. It is the

time she had gone and her maid for washing. He takes her hand. "Stay

for my conversing," he says; "it is thou I have come for." "I am

delighted truly," says the daughter; "if I were to come, I could do

nothing for thee." "Query, wouldst thou elope with me?" he says.

"I will not elope," says she, "for I am the daughter of a king and a

queen. There is nothing of thy poverty that you should not get me

(i.e. thy poverty is not so great that thou art not able to get me)

from my family; and it shall be my choice accordingly to go to thee, it

is thou whom I have loved. And take thou with thee this ring," says

the daughter, "and it shall be between us for a token. My mother gave

it to me to put by, and I shall say that I put it astray." Each of

them accordingly goes apart after that.

"I fear," says Ailill, "the eloping of yon daughter with Fraech, though

she would be given to him on solemn pledge that he would come towards

us with his cattle for aid at the Spoil." Fraech goes to them to the

house of conversation. "Is it a secret (cocur, translated "a whisper"

by Crowe) ye have?" says Fraech. "Thou wouldest fit in it," says

Ailill.

"Will ye give me your daughter?" says Fraech. "The hosts will clearly

see she shall be given," says Ailill, "if thou wouldest give a dowry as

shall be named." "Thou shalt have it," says Fraech. "Sixty black-grey

steeds to me, with their bits of gold to them, and twelve milch cows,

so that there be milked liquor of milk from each of them, and an

ear-red, white calf with each of them; and thou to come with me with

all thy force and with thy musicians for bringing of the cows from

Cualgne; and my daughter to be given thee provided thou dost come" (or

as soon as[FN#27] thou shalt come). "I swear by my shield, and by my

sword, and by my accoutrement, I would not give that in dowry even of

Medb." He went from them out of the house then. Ailill and Medb hold

a conversation. "It shall drive at us several of the kings of Erin

around us if he should carry off the daughter. What is good is, let us

dash after him, and let us slay him forthwith, before he may inflict

destruction upon us." "It is a pity this," says Medb, "and it is a

decay of hospitality for us." "It shall not be a decay of hospitality

for us, it shall not be a decay of hospitality for us, the way I shall

prepare it."

[FN#27] This is Thurneysen's rendering ("Sagen aus dem alten Irland,"

p. 121).

Ailill and Medb go into the palace. "Let us go away," says Ailill,

that we may see the chase-hounds at hunting till the middle of the day,

and until they are tired." They all go off afterwards to the river to

bathe themselves.

"It is declared to me," says Ailill, "that thou art good in water.

Come into this flood, that we may see thy swimming." "What is the

quality of this flood?" he says. "We know not anything dangerous in

it," says Ailill, "and bathing in it is frequent." He strips his

clothes off him then, and he goes into it, and he leaves his girdle

above. Ailill then opens his purse behind him, and the ring was in it.

Ailill recognises it then. "Come here, O Medb," says Ailill. Medb

goes then. "Dost thou recognise that?" says Ailill. "I do recognise,"

she says. Ailill flings it into the river down.

Fraech perceived that matter. He sees something, the salmon leaped to

meet it, and caught it in his mouth. He (Fraech) gives a bound to it,

and he catches its jole, and he goes to land, and he brings it to a

lonely[FN#28] spot on the brink of the river. He proceeds to come out

of the water then. "Do not come," says Ailill, "until thou shalt bring

me a branch of the rowan-tree yonder, which is on the brink of the

river: beautiful I deem its berries." He then goes away, and breaks a

branch off the trees and brings it on his back over the water. The

remark of Find-abair was: "Is it not beautiful he looks?" Exceedingly

beautiful she thought it to see Fraech over a black pool: the body of

great whiteness, and the hair of great loveliness, the face of great

beauty, the eye of great greyness; and he a soft youth without fault,

without blemish, with a below-narrow, above-broad face; and he

straight, blemishless; the branch with the red berries between the

throat and the white face. It is what Find-abair used to say, that by

no means had she seen anything that could come up to him half or third

for beauty.

[FN#28]"Hidden spot" (Windisch

After that he throws the branches to them out of the water. "The

berries are stately and beautiful, bring us an addition of them." He

goes off again until he was in the middle of the water. The serpent

catches him out of the water. "Let a sword come to me from you," he

says; and there was not on the land a man who would dare to give it to

him through fear of Ailill and Medb. After that Find-abair strips off

her clothes, and gives a leap into the water with the sword. Her

father lets fly a five-pronged spear at her from above, a shot's throw,

so that it passes through her two tresses, and that Fraech caught the

spear in his hand. He shoots the spear into the land up, and the

monster in his side. He lets it fly with a charge of the methods of

playing of championship, so that it goes through the purple robe and

through the tunic (? shirt) that was about Ailill.

At this the youths who were about Ailill rise to him. Find-abair goes

out of the water and leaves the sword in Fraech's hand, and he cuts the

head off the monster, so that it was on its side, and he brought the

monster with him to land. It is from it is Dub-lind Fraech in Brei, in

the lands of the men of Connaught. Ailill and Medb go to their dun

afterwards.

"A great deed is what we have done," says Medb. "We repent," says

Ailill, "of what we have done to the man; the daughter however," he

says, "her lips shall perish [common metaphor for death] to-morrow at

once, and it shall not be the guilt of bringing of the sword that shall

be for her. Let a bath be made by you for this man, namely, broth of

fresh bacon and the flesh of a heifer to be minced in it under adze and

axe, and he to be brought into the bath." All that thing was done as

he said. His trumpeters then before him to the dun. They play then

until thirty of the special friends of Ailill die at the long-drawn (or

plaintive) music. He goes then into the dun, and he goes into the

bath. The female company rise around him at the vat for rubbing, and

for washing his head. He was brought out of it then, and a bed was

made. They heard something, the lament-cry on Cruachan. There were

seen the three times fifty women with crimson tunics, with green

head-dresses, with brooches of silver on their wrists.

A messenger is sent to them to learn what they had bewailed. "Fraech,

son of Idath," says the woman, "boy-pet of the king of the Side of

Erin." At this Fraech heard their lament-cry.

Thirty men whom King Ailill loved dearly

By that music were smitten to die;

And his men carried Fraech, and they laid him

In that bath, for his healing to lie.

Around the vat stood ladies,

They bathed his limbs and head;

From out the bath they raised him,

And soft they made his bed.

Then they heard a strange music;

The wild Croghan "keen";

And of women thrice fifty

On Croghan were seen.

They had tunics of purple,

With green were they crowned;

On their wrists glistened silver,

Where brooches were bound.

And there neared them a herald

To learn why they wailed;

"'Tis for Fraech," was their answer,

"By sickness assailed;

'Tis for Fraech, son of Idath,[FN#29]

Boy-darling is he

Of our lord, who in Erin

Is king of the Shee!"[FN#30]

And Fraech heard the wail in their cry;

[FN#29] Pronounced Eeda.

[FN#30] The Fairies.

"Lift me out of it," he says to his people; "this is the cry of my

mother and of the women of Boand." He is lifted out at this, and he is

brought to them. The women come around him, and bring him from them to

the Sid of Cruachan (i.e. the deep caverns, used for burial at

Cruachan).

They saw something, at the ninth hour on the morrow he comes, and fifty

women around him, and he quite whole, without stain and without

blemish; of equal age (the women), of equal form, of equal beauty, of

equal fairness, of equal symmetry, of equal stature, with the dress of

women of the fairies about them so that there was no means of knowing

of one beyond the other of them. Little but men were suffocated around

them. They separate in front of the Liss.[FN#31] They give forth their

lament on going from him, so that they troubled[FN#32] the men who were

in the Liss excessively. It is from it is the Lament-cry of the Women

of the Fairies with the musicians of Erin.

[FN#31] The Liss is the outer court of the palace.

[FN#32] "Oo corastar tar cend," "so that they upset, or put beside

themselves." Meyer takes literally, "so that they fell on their backs"

(?)

He then goes into the dun. All the hosts rise before him, and bid

welcome to him, as if it were from another world he were coming.

Ailill and Medb arise, and do penance to him for the attack they had

made at him, and they make peace. Feasting commenced with them then at

once. Fraech calls a servant of his suite:

"Go off," he says, "to the spot at which I went into the water. A

salmon I left there--bring it to Find-abair, and let herself take

charge over it; and let the salmon be well broiled by her, and the ring

is in the centre of the salmon. I expect it will be asked of her

to-night." Inebriety seizes them, and music and amusement delight

them. Ailill then said: "Bring ye all my gems to me." They were

brought to him then, so that the were before him. "Wonderful,

wonderful," says every one. "Call ye Find-abair to me," he says.

Find-abair goes to him, and fifty maidens around her. "O daughter,"