country. It is full of wonders. There are a great many Queens there who
can change themselves into wolves and into swine and into white hares,
and when they are in their own shapes they are stronger than almost any
man; and there are young men there who have cat’s eyes and if a bird
chirrup or a mouse squeak they cannot keep them shut, even though it is
bedtime and they sleepy; and listen, for this is a great wonder, a very
great wonder: there is a long narrow bridge, and when anybody goes to
cross it, that the Queens do not like, it flies up as this bench would
if you were to sit on the end of it. Everybody who goes there to learn
skill in arms has to cross it. It was in that country too that
Cuchullain got his spear made out of dragon bones. There were two
dragons fighting in the foam of the sea, and their grandam was the moon,
and nine Queens came along the shore.
_Barach._ I won’t listen to your story.
_Fintain._ It is a very wonderful story. Wait till you hear what the
nine Queens did. Their right hands were all made of silver.
_Barach._ No, I will have my dinner first. You have eaten the fowl I
left in front of the fire. The last time you sent me to steal something
you made me forget all about it till you had eaten it up.
_Fintain._ No, there is plenty for us both.
_Barach._ Come with me where it is.
_Fintain._ [_Who is being led towards the door at the back by BARACH._]
O, it is all right, it is in a safe place.
_Barach._ It is a fine fowl. It was the biggest in the yard.
_Fintain._ It had a good smell, but I hope that the wild dogs have not
smelt it. [_Voices are heard outside the door at the side._] Here is our
master. Let us stay and talk with him. Perhaps Cuchullain will give you
a new cap with a feather. He told me that he would give you a new cap
with a feather, a feather with an eye that looks at you, a peacock’s
feather.
_Barach._ No, no.
[_He begins pulling FINTAIN towards the door._
_Fintain._ If you do not get it now, you may never get it, for the
young man may kill him.
_Barach._ No, no, I am hungry. What a head you have, blind man! Who but
you would have remembered that the hen-wife slept for a little at noon
every day!
_Fintain._ [_Who is being led along very slowly and unwillingly._] Yes,
I have a good head. The fowl should be done just right, but one never
knows when a wild dog may come out of the woods.
[_They go out through the big door at the back. As they go out
CUCHULLAIN and certain YOUNG KINGS come in at the side door.
CUCHULLAIN, though still young, is a good deal older than the
others. They are all very gaily dressed, and have their hair
fastened with balls of gold. The young men crowd about CUCHULLAIN
with wondering attention._
_First Young King._ You have hurled that stone beyond our utmost mark
Time after time, but yet you are not weary.
_Second Young King._ He has slept on the bare ground of Fuad’s Hill
This week past, waiting for the bulls and the deer.
_Cuchullain._ Well, why should I be weary?
_First Young King._ It is certain
His father was the god who wheels the sun,
And not King Sualtam.
_Third Young King._ [_To a YOUNG KING who is beside him._]
He came in the dawn,
And folded Dectara in a sudden fire.
_Fourth Young King._ And yet the mother’s half might well grow weary,
And it new come from labours over sea.
_Third Young King._ He has been on islands walled about with silver,
And fought with giants.
[_They gather about the ale vat and begin to drink._
_Cuchullain._ Who was it that went out?
_Third Young King._ As we came in?
_Cuchullain._ Yes.
_Third Young King._ Barach and blind Fintain.
_Cuchullain._ They always flock together; the blind man
Has need of the fool’s eyesight and strong body,
While the poor fool has need of the other’s wit,
And night and day is up to his ears in mischief
That the blind man imagines. There’s no hen-yard
But clucks and cackles when he passes by
As if he’d been a fox. If I’d that ball
That’s in your hair and the big stone again,
I’d keep them tossing, though the one is heavy
And the other light in the hand. A trick I learnt
When I was learning arms in Aoife’s country.
_First Young King._ What kind of woman was that Aoife?
_Cuchullain._ Comely.
_First Young King._ But I have heard that she was never married,
And yet that’s natural, for I have never known
A fighting woman, but made her favours cheap,
Or mocked at love till she grew sandy dry.
_Cuchullain._ What manner of woman do you like the best?
A gentle or a fierce?
_First Young King._ A gentle, surely.
_Cuchullain._ I think that a fierce woman’s better, a woman
That breaks away when you have thought her won,
For I’d be fed and hungry at one time.
I think that all deep passion is but a kiss
In the mid battle, and a difficult peace
’Twixt oil and water, candles and dark night,
Hill-side and hollow, the hot-footed sun,
And the cold sliding slippery-footed moon,
A brief forgiveness between opposites
That have been hatreds for three times the age
Of this long ’stablished ground. Here’s Concobar;
So I’ll be done, but keep beside me still,
For while he talks of hammered bronze and asks
What wood is best for building, we can talk
Of a fierce woman.
[_CONCOBAR, a man much older than CUCHULLAIN, has come in through
the great door at the back. He has many KINGS about him. One of
these KINGS, DAIRE, a stout old man, is somewhat drunk._
_Concobar._ [_To one of those about him._] Has the ship gone yet?
We have need of more bronze workers, and that ship
I sent to Africa for gold is late.
_Cuchullain._ I knew their talk.
_Concobar._ [_Seeing CUCHULLAIN._] You are before us, King.
_Cuchullain._ So much the better, for I welcome you
Into my Muirthemne.
_Concobar._ But who are these?
The odour from their garments when they stir
Is like a wind out of an apple garden.
_Cuchullain._ My swordsmen and harp players and fine dancers,
My bosom friends.
_Concobar._ I should have thought, Cuchullain,
My graver company would better match
Your greatness and your years; but I waste breath
In harping on that tale.
_Cuchullain._ You do, great King.
Because their youth is the kind wandering wave
That carries me about the world; and if it sank,
My sword would lose its lightness.
_Concobar._ Yet, Cuchullain,
Emain should be the foremost town of the world.
_Cuchullain._ It is the foremost town.
_Concobar._ No, no, it’s not.
Nothing but men can make towns great, and he,
The one over-topping man that’s in the world,
Keeps far away.
_Daire._ He will not hear you, King,
And we old men had best keep company
With one another. I’ll fill the horn for you.
_Concobar._ I will not drink, old fool. You have drunk a horn
At every door we came to.
_Daire._ You’d better drink,
For old men light upon their youth again
In the brown ale. When I have drunk enough,
I am like Cuchullain as one pea another,
And live like a bird’s flight from tree to tree.
_Concobar._ We’ll to our chairs for we have much to talk of,
And we have Ullad and Muirthemne, and here
Is Conall Muirthemne in the nick of time.
[_He goes to the back of stage to welcome a company of KINGS who
come in through the great door. The other KINGS gradually get into
their places. CUCHULLAIN sits in his great chair with certain of the
young men standing around him. Others of the young men, however,
remain with DAIRE at the ale vat. DAIRE holds out the horn of ale to
one or two of the older KINGS as they pass him going to their
places. They pass him by, most of them silently refusing._
_Daire._ Will you not drink?
_An Old King._ Not till the council’s over.
_A Young King._ But I’ll drink, Daire.
_Another Young King._ Fill me a horn too, Daire.
_Another Young King._ If I’d drunk half that you have drunk to-day,
I’d be upon all fours.
_Daire._ That would be natural
When Mother Earth had given you this good milk
From her great breasts.
_Cuchullain._ [_To one of the YOUNG KINGS beside him._]
One is content awhile
With a soft warm woman who folds up our lives
In silky network. Then, one knows not why,
But one’s away after a flinty heart.
_The Young King._ How long can the net keep us?
_Cuchullain._ All our lives
If there are children, and a dozen moons
If there are none, because a growing child
Has so much need of watching it can make
A passion that’s as changeable as the sea
Change till it holds the wide earth to its heart.
At least I have heard a father say it, but I
Being childless do not know it. Come nearer yet;
Though he is ringing that old silver rod
We’ll have our own talk out. They cannot hear us.
[_CONCOBAR who is now seated in his great chair, opposite
CUCHULLAIN, beats upon the pillar of the house that is nearest to
him with a rod of silver, till the KINGS have become silent.
CUCHULLAIN alone continues to talk in a low voice to those about
him, but not so loud as to disturb the silence. CONCOBAR rises and
speaks standing._
_Concobar._ I have called you hither, Kings of Ullad, and Kings
Of Muirthemne and Connall Muirthemne,
And tributary Kings, for now there is peace--
It’s time to build up Emain that was burned
At the outsetting of these wars; for we,
Being the foremost men, should have high chairs
And be much stared at and wondered at, and speak
Out of more laughing overflowing hearts
Than common men. It is the art of kings
To make what’s noble nobler in men’s eyes
By wide uplifted roofs, where beaten gold,
That’s ruddy with desire, marries pale silver
Among the shadowing beams; and many a time
I would have called you hither to this work,
But always, when I’d all but summoned you,
Some war or some rebellion would break out.
_Daire._ Where’s Maine Morgor and old Usnach’s children,
And that high-headed even-walking Queen,
And many near as great that got their death
Because you hated peace? I can remember
The people crying out when Deirdre passed
And Maine Morgor had a cold gray eye.
Well, well, I’ll throw this heel-tap on the ground,
For it may be they are thirsty.
_A King._ Be silent, fool.
_Another King._ Be silent, Daire.
_Concobar._ Let him speak his mind.
I have no need to be afraid of ghosts,
For I have made but necessary wars.
I warred to strengthen Emain, or because
When wars are out they marry and beget
And have their generations like mankind
And there’s no help for it; but I’m well content
That they have ended and left the town so great,
That its mere name shall be in times to come
Like a great ale vat where the men of the world
Shall drink no common ale but the hard will,
The unquenchable hope, the friendliness of the sword.
[_He takes thin boards on which plans have been carved by those
about him._
Give me the building plans, and have you written
That we--Cuchullain is looking in his shield;
It may be the pale riders of the wind
Throw pictures on it, or that Mananan,
His father’s friend and sometime fosterer,
Foreknower of all things, has cast a vision,
Out of the cold dark of the rich sea,
Foretelling Emain’s greatness.
_Cuchullain._ No, great King,
I looked on this out of mere idleness,
Imagining a far-off country and one
That held it with a sword, although a woman.
_Concobar._ A woman needs but laugh, or a friend sigh,
And you’re afar off sounding through the world,
While I plan Emain’s greatness.
[_The sound of a trumpet without._
Open the doors!
I hear a herald’s trumpet, and await,
It may be, the heavy fleeces of the sea
And golden and silver apples or ancient crowns
Long hidden in the well at the World’s End,
Or glittering garments of the salmon, tributes
From the Great Plain, or the high people of Sorcha,
Or the walled garden in the east of the world.
[_The great door at the back is flung open; a YOUNG MAN, who is
fully armed and carries a shield with a woman’s head painted on it,
stands upon the threshold. Behind him are trumpeters. He walks into
the centre of the hall, the trumpeting ceases._
What is your message?
_Young Man._ I am of Aoife’s army.
_First King._ Queen Aoife and her army have fallen upon us.
_Second King._ Out swords! Out swords!
_Third King._ They are about the house.
_Fourth King._ Rush out! Rush out! Before they have fired the thatch.
_Young Man._ Aoife is far away. I am alone.
I have come alone in the midst of you
To weigh this sword against Cuchullain’s sword.
[_There is a murmur amongst the KINGS._
_Concobar._ And are you noble? for if of common seed
You cannot weigh your sword against his sword
But in mixed battle.
_Young Man._ I am under bonds
To tell my name to no man, but it’s noble.
_Concobar._ But I would know your name and not your bonds.
You cannot speak in the Assembly House
If you are not noble.
_A King._ Answer the High King.
_Young Man._ [_Drawing his sword._]
I will give no other proof than the hawk gives
That it’s no sparrow.
[_He is silent a moment, then speaks to all._
Yet look upon me, Kings;
I too am of that ancient seed and carry
The signs about this body and in these bones.
_Cuchullain._ To have shown the hawk’s gray feather is enough,
And you speak highly too.
[_CUCHULLAIN comes down from his great chair. He remains standing on
the steps of the chair. The YOUNG KINGS gather about him and begin
to arm him._
Give me that helmet!
I’d thought they had grown weary sending champions.
That leathern coat will do. The High King there
Being old in wisdom can think of times to come,
But the hawk’s sleepy till its well-beloved
Cries out amid the acorns, or it has seen
Its enemy like a speck upon the sun.
What’s Emain to the hawk when that clear eye
Is burning nearer up in the high air?
That buckle should be tighter. Give me your shield.
There is good level ground at Baile’s Yew-tree,
Some dozen yards from here, and it’s but truth
That I am sad to-day and this fight welcome.
[_He looks hard at the YOUNG MAN, and then steps down on the floor
of the Assembly House. He grasps the YOUNG MAN by the shoulder._
Hither into the light.
[_Turning to one of the YOUNG KINGS._
The very tint
Of her that I was speaking of but now:
Not a pin’s difference.
[_To the YOUNG MAN._
You are from the North,
Where there are many that have that tint of hair,
Red-brown, the light red-brown. Come nearer, boy!
For I would have another look at you.
There’s more likeness, a pale, a stone pale cheek.
What brought you, boy? Have you no fear of death?
_Young Man._ Whether I live or die is in the Gods’ hands.
_Cuchullain._ That is all words, all words, a young man’s talk;
I am their plough, their harrow, their very strength,
For he that’s in the sun begot this body
Upon a mortal woman, and I have heard tell
It seemed as if he had outrun the moon,
That he must always follow through waste heaven,
He loved so happily. He’ll be but slow
To break a tree that was so sweetly planted.
Let’s see that arm; I’ll see it if I like.
That arm had a good father and a good mother,
But it is not like this.
_Young Man._ You are mocking me.
You think I am not worthy to be fought,
But I’ll not wrangle but with this talkative knife.
_Cuchullain._ Put up your sword, I am not mocking you.
I’d have you for my friend, but if it’s not
Because you have a hot heart and a cold eye
I cannot tell the reason. You’ve got her fierceness,
And nobody is as fierce as those pale women.
[_To the YOUNG KINGS._
We’ll keep him here in Muirthemne awhile.
_A Young King._ You are the leader of our pack and therefore
May cry what you will.
_Cuchullain._ You’ll stop with us
And we will hunt the deer and the wild bulls,
And, when we have grown weary, light our fires
In sandy places where the wool-white foam
Is murmuring and breaking, and it may be
That long-haired women will come out of the dunes
To dance in the yellow fire-light. You hang your head,
Young man, as if it was not a good life;
And yet what’s better than to hurl the spear,
And hear the long-remembering harp, and dance?
Friendship grows quicker in the murmuring dark;
But I can see there’s no more need for words
And that you’ll be my friend now.
_First Old King._ Concobar,
Forbid their friendship, for it will get twisted
To a reproach against us.
_Concobar._ Until now
I’d never need to cry Cuchullain on
And would not now.
_First Old King._ They’ll say his manhood’s quenched.
_Cuchullain._ I’ll give you gifts, but I’ll have something too,
An arm-ring or the like, and if you will
We’ll fight it out when you are older, boy.
_An Old King._ Aoife will make some story out of this.
_Cuchullain._ Well, well, what matter, I’ll have that arm-ring, boy.
_Young Man._ There is no man I’d sooner have my friend
Than you whose name has gone about the world
As if it had been the wind, but Aoife’d say
I had turned coward.
_Cuchullain._ I’ll give you gifts
That Aoife’ll know and all her people know
To have been my gifts. Mananan, son of the sea,
Gave me this heavy embroidered cloak. Nine Queens
Of the Land-under-Wave had woven it
Out of the fleeces of the sea. O! tell her
I was afraid, or tell her what you will.
No! tell her that I heard a raven croak
On the north side of the house and was afraid.
_An Old King._ Some witch of the air has troubled Cuchullain’s mind.
_Cuchullain._ No witchcraft, his head is like a woman’s head
I had a fancy for.
_Second Old King._ A witch of the air
Can make a leaf confound us with memories.
They have gone to school to learn the trick of it.
_Cuchullain._ But there’s no trick in this. That arm-ring, boy.
_Third Old King._ He shall not go unfought, I’ll fight with him.
_Fourth Old King._ No! I will fight with him.
_First Old King._ I claim the fight,
For when we sent an army to her land----
_Second Old King._ I claim the fight, for one of Aoife’s galleys
Stole my great cauldron and a herd of pigs.
_Third Old King._ No, no, I claim it, for at Lammas’ time----
_Cuchullain._ Back! Back! Put up your swords! Put up your swords!
There’s none alive that shall accept a challenge
I have refused. Laegaire, put up your sword.
_Young Man._ No, let them come, let any three together.
If they’ve a mind to, I’ll try it out with four.
_Cuchullain._ That’s spoken as I’d spoken it at your age,
But you are in my house. Whatever man
Would fight with you shall fight it out with me.
They’re dumb. They’re dumb. How many of you would meet
[_Drawing his sword._
This mutterer, this old whistler, this sandpiper,
This edge that’s grayer than the tide, this mouse
That’s gnawing at the timbers of the world,
This, this--Boy, I would meet them all in arms
If I’d a son like you. He would avenge me
When I have withstood for the last time the men
Whose fathers, brothers, sons, and friends I have killed
Upholding Ullad; when the four provinces
Have gathered with the ravens over them.
But I’d need no avenger. You and I
Would scatter them like water from a dish.
_Young Man._ We’ll stand by one another from this out.
Here is the ring.
_Cuchullain._ No, turn and turn about,
But my turn is first, because I am the older.
Cliodna embroidered these bird wings, but Fand
Made all these little golden eyes with the hairs
That she had stolen out of Aengus’ beard,
And therefore none that has this cloak about him
Is crossed in love. The heavy inlaid brooch
That Buan hammered has a merit too.
[_He begins spreading the cloak out on a bench, showing it to the
YOUNG MAN. Suddenly CONCOBAR beats with his silver rod on a pillar
beside his chair. All turn towards him._
_Concobar._ [_In a loud voice._]
No more of that, I will not have this friendship.
Cuchullain is my man and I forbid it;
He shall not go unfought for I myself----
_Cuchullain._ [_Seizing CONCOBAR._]
You shall not stir, High King, I’ll hold you there.
_Concobar._ Witchcraft has maddened you.
_The Kings._ [_Shouting._] Yes, witchcraft, witchcraft.
_A King._ You saw another’s head upon his shoulders
All of a sudden, a woman’s head, Cuchullain.
Then raised your hand against the King of Ullad.
_Cuchullain._ [_Letting CONCOBAR go, and looking wildly about him._]
Yes, yes, all of a sudden, all of a sudden.
_Daire._ Why, there’s no witchcraft in it, I myself
Have made a hundred of these sudden friendships
And fought it out next day. But that was folly,
For now that I am old I know it is best
To live in comfort.
_A King._ Pull the fool away!
_Daire._ I’ll throw a heel-tap to the one that dies.
_Concobar._ Some witch is floating in the air above us.
_Cuchullain._ Yes, witchcraft, witchcraft and the power of witchcraft.
[_To the YOUNG MAN._
Why did you do it? was it Calatin’s daughters?
Out, out, I say, for now it’s sword on sword.
_Young Man._ But, but, I did not.
_Cuchullain._ Out, I say, out, out!
Sword upon sword.
[_He goes towards the door at back, followed by YOUNG MAN. He
turns on the threshold and cries out, looking at the YOUNG MAN._
That hair my hands were drowned in!
[_He goes out, followed by YOUNG MAN. The other KINGS begin to
follow them out._
_A King._ I saw him fight with Ferdiad.
_Second King._ We’ll be too late,
They’re such a long time getting through the door.
_Third King._ Run quicker, quicker.
_Daire._ I was at the Smith’s
When he that was the boy Setanta then----
[_Sound, of fighting outside._
_Third King._ He will have killed him.
They have begun the fight!
[_They all go out, leaving the house silent and empty. There is a
pause during which one hears the clashing of the swords. BARACH and
FINTAIN come in from side door. BARACH is dragging FINTAIN._
_Barach._ You have eaten it, you have eaten it, you have left me nothing
but the bones.
_Fintain._ O, that I should have to endure such a plague. O, I ache all
over. O, I am pulled in pieces. This is the way you pay me for all the
good I have done you!
_Barach._ You have eaten it, you have told me lies about a wild dog.
Nobody has seen a wild dog about the place this twelve month. Lie there
till the Kings come. O, I will tell Concobar and Cuchullain and all the
Kings about you!
_Fintain._ What would have happened to you but for me, and you without
your wits? If I did not take care of you what would you do for food and
warmth?
_Barach._ You take care of me? You stay safe and send me into every kind
of danger. You sent me down the cliff for gull’s eggs while you warmed
your blind eyes in the sun. And then you ate all that were good for
food. You left me the eggs that were neither egg nor bird. [_The blind
man tries to rise. BARACH makes him lie down again._] Keep quiet now
till I shut the door. There is some noise outside. There are swords
crossing; a high vexing noise so that I can’t be listening to myself.
[_He goes to the big door at the back and shuts it._] Why can’t they be
quiet, why can’t they be quiet! Ah, you would get away, would you? [_He
follows the blind man who has been crawling along the wall and makes him
lie down close to the KING’S chair._] Lie there, lie there. No, you
won’t get away. Lie there till the Kings come, I’ll tell them all about
you. I shall tell it all. How you sit warming yourself, when you have
made me light a fire of sticks, while I sit blowing it with my mouth. Do
you not always make me take the windy side of the bush when it blows and
the rainy side when it rains?
_Fintain._ O good fool, listen to me. Think of the care I have taken of
you. I have brought you to many a warm hearth, where there was a good
welcome for you, but you would not stay there, you were always wandering
about.
_Barach._ The last time you brought me in, it was not I who wandered
away, but you that got put out because you took the crubeen out of the
pot, when you thought nobody was looking. Keep quiet now, keep quiet
till I shut the door. Here is Cuchullain, now you will be beaten. I am
going to tell him everything.
_Cuchullain._ [_Comes in and says to the fool._] Give me that horn.
[_The fool gives him a horn which CUCHULLAIN fills with ale and
drinks._
_Fintain._ Do not listen to him, listen to me.
_Cuchullain._ What are you wrangling over?
_Barach._ He is fat and good for nothing. He has left me the bones and
the feathers.
_Cuchullain._ What feathers?
_Barach._ I left him turning a fowl at the fire. He ate it all. He left
me nothing but the bones and feathers.
_Fintain._ Do not believe him. You do not know how vain this fool is. I
gave him the feathers, because I thought he would like nothing so well.
[_BARACH is sitting on a bench playing with a heap of feathers,
which he has taken out of the breast of his coat._
_Barach._ [_Singing._] When you were an acorn on the tree top----
_Fintain._ Where would he be but for me? I must be always thinking,
thinking to get food for the two of us, and when we’ve got it, if the
moon’s at the full or the tide on the turn, he’ll leave the rabbit in
its snare till it is full of maggots, or let the trout slip through his
hands back into the water.
_Barach._ [_Singing._] When you were an acorn on the tree top,
Then was I an eagle cock;
Now that you are a withered old block,
Still am I an eagle cock!
_Fintain._ Listen to him now! That’s the sort of talk I have to put up
with, day out day in.
[_The fool is putting the feathers into his hair. CUCHULLAIN takes a
handful of feathers out of the heap and out of the fool’s hair, and
begins to wipe the blood from his sword with them._