'Conchobar's man, and do not disturb me. If you disturb me any
longer, I will strike your head from you as the head is taken from
a blackbird.'
'It is not easy,' said Mane, 'to speak to these two.'
Mane goes from them then and tells his tale to Ailill and Medb.
'Let Lugaid go to him,' said Ailill, 'and offer to him the maiden.'
Lugaid goes then and tells Cuchulainn that.
'O friend Lugaid,' said Cuchulainn, 'this is a snare.'
'It is the king's word that has said it,' said Lugaid; 'there will
be no snare therefrom.'
'Let it be done so,' said Cuchulainn.
Lugaid went from him therewith, and tells Ailill and Medb that
answer.
'Let the fool go in my form,' said Ailill, 'and a king's crown on
his head, and let him stand at a distance from Cuchulainn lest he
recognise him, and let the maiden go with him, and let him betroth
her to him, and let them depart quickly in this way; and it is
likely that you will play a trick on him thus, so that he will not
hinder you, till he comes with the Ulstermen to the battle.'
Then the fool goes to him, and the maiden also; and it was from a
distance he spoke to Cuchulainn. Cuchulainn goes to meet them. It
happened that he recognised by the man's speech that he was a fool.
He threw a sling stone that was in his hand at him, so that it
sprang into his head and brought his brains out. Then he comes to
the maiden, cuts her two tresses off, and thrusts a stone through
her mantle and through her tunic, and thrusts a stone pillar
through the middle of the fool. There are their two pillars there:
the pillar of Findabair, and the fool's pillar.
Cuchulainn left them thus. A party was sent from Ailill and Medb to
seek out their folk, for they thought they were long; they were
seen in this position. All this was heard throughout the camp.
There was no truce for them with Cuchulainn afterwards.
_The Combat of Munremar and Curoi_
When the hosts were there in the evening; they saw that one stone
lighted on them from the east, and another from the west to meet
it. They met in the air, and kept falling between Fergus's camp,
and Ailill's, and Era's. [Note: Or Nera?] This sport and play went
on from that hour to the same hour next day; and the hosts were
sitting down, and their shields were over their heads to protect
them against the masses of stones, till the plain was full of the
stones. Hence is Mag Clochair. It happened that Curoi Mac Daire did
this; he had come to help his comrades, and he was in Cotal over
against Munremar Mac Gerrcind. He had come from Emain Macha to help
Cuchulainn, and he was in Ard Roich. Curoi knew that there was no
man in the host who could withstand Munremar. So it was these two
who had made this sport between them. They were asked by the host
to be quiet; then Munremar and Curoi make peace, and Curoi goes to
his house and Munremar to Emain Macha. And Munremar did not come
till the day of the battle; Curoi did not come till the combat with
Fer Diad.
'Speak to Cuchulainn,' said Medb and Ailill, 'that he allow us
change of place.'
It is granted to them then, and they change the place. The weakness
of the Ulstermen was over then. For when they awoke from their
suffering, some of them kept coming on the host, that they might
take to slaying them again.
_The Death of the Boys_
Then the boys of Ulster had consulted in Emain Macha.
'Wretched indeed,' said they, 'for our friend Cuchulainn to be
without help.'
'A question indeed,' said Fiachna Fulech Mac Fir-Febe, own brother
to Fiacha Fialdama Mac Fir-Febe, 'shall I have a troop among you,
and go to take help to him therefrom?'
Three fifties of boys go with their playing-clubs, and that was a
third of the boys of Ulster. The host saw them coming towards them
across the plain.
'A great host is at hand to us over the plain,' said Ailill.
Fergus goes to look at them. 'Some of the boys of Ulster that,'
said he; 'and they come to Cuchulainn's help.'
'Let a troop go against them,' said Ailill, 'without Cuchulainn's
knowledge; for if they meet him, you will not withstand them.'
Three fifties of warriors go to meet them. They fell by one another
so that no one escaped alive of the abundance(?) of the boys at Lia
Toll. Hence it is the Stone of Fiachra Mac Fir-Febe; for it is
there he fell.
'Make a plan,' said Ailill.
'Ask Cuchulainn about letting you go out of this place, for you
will not come beyond him by force, because his flame of valour has
sprung.'
For it was customary with him, when his flame of valour sprang in
him, that his feet would go round behind him, and his hams before;
and the balls of his calves on his shins, and one eye in his head
and the other out of his head; a man's head could have gone into
his mouth. Every hair on him was as sharp as a thorn of hawthorn,
and a drop of blood on each hair. He would not recognise comrades
or friends. He would strike alike before and behind. It is from
this that the men of Connaught gave Cuchulainn the name Riastartha.
_The Woman-fight of Rochad_
Cuchulainn sent his charioteer to Rochad Mac Fatheman of Ulster,
that he should come to his help. Now it happened that Findabair
loved Rochad, for he was the fairest of the warriors among the
Ulstermen at that time. The man goes to Rochad and told him to come
to help Cuchulainn if he had come out of his weakness; that they
should deceive the host, to get at some of them to slay them.
Rochad comes from the north with a hundred men.
'Look at the plain for us to-day,' said Ailill.
'I see a troop coming over the plain,' said the watchman, 'and a
warrior of tender years among them; the men only reach up to his
shoulders.'
'Who is it yonder, O Fergus?' said Ailill.
'Rochad Mac Fatheman,' said he, 'and it is to help Cuchulainn he
comes.'
'I know what you had better do with him,' said Fergus. 'Let a
hundred men go from you with the maiden yonder to the middle of the
plain, and let the maiden go before them; and let a horseman go to
speak to him, that he come alone to speak with the maiden, and let
hands be laid on him, and this will keep off (?) the attack of his
army from us.'
This is done then. Rochad goes to meet the horseman.
'I have come from Findabair to meet you, that you come to speak
with her.'
He goes then to speak with her alone. The host rushes about him
from every side. He is taken, and hands are laid on him. His force
breaks into flight. He is let go then, and he is bound over not to
go against the host till he should come together with all Ulster.
It was promised to him that Findabair should be given to him, and
he returned from them then. So that that is Rochad's Woman-fight.
_The Death of the Princes_ [Note: Or 'royal mercenaries.']
'Let a sword-truce be asked of Cuchulainn for us,' said Ailill and
Medb.
Lugaid goes on that errand, and Cuchulainn grants the truce.
'Put a man on the ford for me to-morrow,' said Cuchulainn.
There were with Medb six princes, i.e. six king's heirs of the
Clanna Dedad, the three Blacks of Imlech, and the three Reds of
Sruthair.
'Why should we not go against Cuchulainn?' said they.
They go next day, and Cuchulainn slew the six of them.
_The Death of Cur_
Then Cur Mac Dalath is besought to go against Cuchulainn. He from
whom he shed blood, he is dead before the ninth day.
'If he slay him,' said Medb, 'it is victory; and though it be he
who is slain, it is removing a load from the host: for it is not
easy to be with him in regard to eating and sleeping.'
Then he goes forth. He did not think it good to go against a
beardless wild boy.
'Not so(?) indeed,' said he, 'right is the honour (?) that you give
us! If I had known that it was against this man that I was sent, I
would not have bestirred myself to seek him; it were enough in my
opinion for a boy of his own age from my troop to go against him.'
'Not so,' said Cormac Condlongas; 'it were a marvel for us if you
yourself were to drive him off.'
'Howbeit,' said he, 'since it is on myself that it is laid you
Shall go forth to-morrow morning; it will not delay me to kill the
young deer yonder.'
He goes then early in the morning to meet him; and he tells the
host to get ready to take the road before them, for it was a clear
road that he would make by going against Cuchulainn.
_This is the Number of the Feats_
He went on that errand then. Cuchulainn was practising feats at
that time, i.e. the apple-feat, the edge-feat, the supine-feat, the
javelin-feat, the ropefeat, the ---- feat, the cat-feat, the hero's
salmon[-leap?], the cast ----, the leap over ----, the noble
champion's turn, the _gae bolga_, the ---- of swiftness, the
wheel-feat, the ----, the feat on breath, the mouth-rage (?), the
champion's shout, the stroke with proper adjustment, the
back-stroke, the climbing a javelin with stretching of the body on
its point, with the binding (?) of a noble warrior.
Cur was plying his weapons against him in a fence(?) of his shield
till a third of the day; and not a stroke of the blow reached
Cuchulainn for the madness of the feats, and he did not know that a
man was trying to strike him, till Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe said to him:
'Beware of the man who is attacking you.'
Cuchulainn looked at him; he threw the feat-apple that remained in
his hand, so that it went between the rim and the body of the
shield, and went back through the head of the churl. It would be in
Imslige Glendanach that Cur fell according to another version.
Fergus returned to the army. 'If your security hold you,' said he,
'wait here till to-morrow.'
'It would not be there,' said Ailill; 'we shall go back to our
camp.'
Then Lath Mac Dabro is asked to go against Cuchulainn, as Cur had
been asked. He himself fell then also. Fergus returns again to put
his security on them. They remained there until there were slain
there Cur Mac Dalath, and Lath Mac Dabro, and Foirc, son of the
three Swifts, and Srubgaile Mac Eobith. They were all slain there
in single combat.
_The Death of Ferbaeth_
'Go to the camp for us, O friend Loeg' [said Cuchulainn], 'and
consult Lugaid Mac Nois, descendant of Lomarc, to know who is
coming against me tomorrow. Let it be asked diligently, and give
him my greeting.'
Then Loeg went.
'Welcome,' said Lugaid; 'it is unlucky for Cuchulainn, the trouble
in which he is, alone against the men of Ireland. It is a comrade
of us both, Ferbaeth (ill-luck to his arms!), who goes against him
to morrow. Findabair is given to him for it, and the kingdom of his
race.'
Loeg turns back to where Cuchulainn is.
He is not very joyful over his answer, my friend Loeg,' said
Cuchulainn.
Loeg tells him all that. Ferbaeth had been summoned into the tent
to Ailill and Medb, and he is told to sit by Findabair, and that
she should be given to him, for he was her choice for fighting with
Cuchulainn. He was the man they thought worthy of them, for they
had both learned the same arts with Scathach. Then wine is given to
him, till he was intoxicated, and he is told, 'They thought that
wine fine, and there had only been brought the load of fifty
wagons. And it was the maiden who used to put hand to his portion
therefrom.'
'I do not wish it,' said Ferbaeth; 'Cuchulainn is my foster-brother,
and a man of perpetual covenant with me. Nevertheless I will go
against him to-morrow and cut off his head.'
'It will be you who would do it,' said Medb.
Cuchulainn told Loeg to go to meet Lugaid, that he should come and
speak with him. Lugaid comes to him.
'So Ferbaeth is coming against me to-morrow,' said Cuchulainn.
'He indeed,' said Lugaid.
'An evil day!' said Cuchulainn; 'I shall not be alive therefrom.
Two of equal age we, two of equal deftness, two equal when we meet.
O Lugaid, greet him for me; tell him that it is not true valour to
come against me; tell him to come to meet me to-night, to speak
with me.'
Lugaid tells him this. When Ferbaeth did not avoid it, he went that
night to renounce his friendship with Cuchulainn, and Fiacha Mac
Fir-Febe with him. Cuchulainn appealed to him by his foster-brotherhood,
and Scathach, the foster-mother of them both.
'I must,' said Ferbaeth. 'I have promised it'
'Take back (?) your bond of friendship then,' said Cuchulainn.
Cuchulainn went from him in anger. A spear of holly was driven into
Cuchulainn's foot in the glen, and appeared up by his knee. He
draws it out.
'Go not, O Ferbaeth, till you have seen the find that I have
found.'
'Throw it,' said Ferbaeth.
Cuchulainn threw the spear then after Ferbaeth so that it hit the
hollow of his poll, and came out at his mouth in front, so that he
fell back into the glen.
'That is a throw indeed,' said Ferbaeth. Hence is Focherd
Murthemne. (Or it is Fiacha who had said, 'Your throw is vigorous
to-day, O Cuchulainn,' said he; so that Focherd Murthemne is from
that.)
Ferbaeth died at once in the glen. Hence is Glenn Firbaith.
Something was heard: Fergus, who said:
'O Ferbaeth, foolish is thy expedition
In the place in which thy grave is.
Ruin reached thee ...
In Croen Corand.
'The hill is named Fithi (?) for ever;
Croenech in Murthemne,
From to-day Focherd will be the name
Of the place in which thou didst fall, O Ferbaeth.
O Ferbaeth,' etc.
'Your comrade has fallen,' said Fergus. 'Say will you pay for this
man on the morrow?'
'I will pay indeed,' said Cuchulainn.
Cuchulainn sends Loeg again for news, to know how they are in the
camp, and whether Ferbaeth lived. Lugaid said: 'Ferbaeth is dead,'
and Cuchulainn comes in turn to talk with them.
_The Combat of Larine Mac Nois_
'One of you to-morrow to go readily against the other,' said
Lugaid.
'He will not be found at all,' said Ailill, 'unless you practise
trickery therein. Any man who comes to you, give him wine, so that
his mind may be glad, and it shall be said to him that that is all
the wine that has been brought from Cruachan. It grieves us that
you should be on water in the camp. And Findabair shall be put at
his right hand, and it shall be said: "She shall come to you, if
you bring us the head of the Riastartha."'
A messenger used to be sent to every hero on his night, and that
used to be told to him; he continued to kill every man of them in.
turn. No one could be got by them to meet him at last. Larine Mac
Nois, brother to Lugaid, King of Munster, was summoned to them the
next day. Great was his pride. Wine is given to him, and Findabair
is put at his right hand.
Medb looked at the two. 'It pleases me, yonder pair,' said she; 'a
match between them would be fitting.'
'I will not stand in your way,' said Ailill; 'he shall have her if
he brings me the head of the Riastartha.'
'I will bring it,' said Larine.
Then Lugaid comes. 'What man have you for the ford to-morrow?' said
he.
'Larine goes,' said Ailill.
Then Lugaid comes to speak with Cuchulainn. They meet in Glenn
Firbaith. Each gives the other welcome.
'It is for this I have come to speak to you,' said Lugaid: 'there
is a churl here, a fool and proud,' said he, 'a brother of mine named
Larine; he is befooled about the same maiden. On your friendship
then, do not kill him, lest you should leave me without a brother.
For it is for this that he is being sent to you, so that we two
might quarrel. I should be content, however, that you should give
him a sound drubbing, for it is in my despite that he comes.'
Larine goes next day to meet Cuchulainn, and the maiden near him to
encourage him. Cuchulainn attacks him without arms. [Note: This is
apparently the sense, but the passage seems corrupt.] He takes
Larine's arms from him perforce. He takes him then between his two
hands, and grinds and shakes him, ... and threw him till he was
between Lugaid's two hands ...; nevertheless, he is the only man
who escaped [even] a bad escape from him, of all who met him on the
Tain.
_The Conversation of the Morrigan with Cuchulainn_
Cuchulainn saw a young woman coming towards him, with a dress of
every colour on, and her form very excellent.
'Who are you?' said Cuchulainn.
'Daughter of Buan the king,' said she. 'I have come to you; I have
loved you for your reputation, and I have brought my treasures and
my cattle with me.'
'The time at which you have come to us is not good. For our
condition is evil, through hunger. It is not easy to me to meet a
woman, while I am in this strife.'
'I will be a help to you. ... I shall be more troublesome to you,'
said she, 'when I come against you when you are in combat against
the men. I will come in the form of an eel about your feet in the
ford, so that you shall fall.'
'I think that likelier than the daughter of a king. I will take
you,' said he, 'between my toes, till your ribs are broken, and you
will be in this condition till a doom of blessing comes (?) on
you.'
'I will drive the cattle on the ford to you, in the form of a grey
she-wolf.'
'I will throw a stone at you from my sling, so that it shall break
your eye in your head; and you will be in that state till a doom of
blessing comes on you.'
'I will come to you in the form of a hornless red heifer before the
cattle. They will rush on you on the plains(?), and on the fords,
and on the pools, and you will not see me before you.'
'I will throw a stone at you,' said he, 'so that your leg shall
break under you, and you will be in this state till a doom of
blessing comes on you.'
Therewith she goes from him.
So he was a week on Ath Grencha, and a man used to fall every day
by him in Ath Grencha, i.e. in Ath Darteisc.
_The Death of Loch Mac Emonis_
Then Loch Mac Emonis was asked like the others, and there was
promised to him a piece of the arable land of Mag Ai equal in size
to Mag Murthemne, and the equipment of twelve warriors and a
chariot worth seven cumals [Note: A measure of value.]; and he did
not think combat with a youth worthy. He had a brother, Long Mac
Emonis himself. The same price was given to him, both maiden and
raiment and chariots and land. He goes to meet Cuchulainn.
Cuchulainn slays him, and he was brought dead before his brother,
Loch.
This latter said that if he only knew that it was a bearded man who
slew him, he would kill him for it.
'Take a battle-force to him,' said Medb to her household, 'across
the ford from the west, that you may go-across; and let fair-play
be broken on him.'
Then the seven Manes, warriors, go first, so that they saw him on
the edge of the ford westward. He puts his feast-dress on that day.
It is then that the women kept climbing on the men to look at him.
'I am sorry,' said Medb; 'I cannot see the boy about whom they go
there.'
'Your mind will not be the gladder for it,' said Lethrend, Ailill's
squire, 'if you could see him.'
He comes to the ford then as he was.
'What man is it yonder, O Fergus?' said Medb.
'A boy who wards off,' etc. ... 'if it is Culann's Hound.' [Note:
Rhetoric, four lines.]
Medb climbed on the men then to look at him.
It is then that the women said to Cuchulainn 'that he was laughed
at in the camp because he had no beard, and no good warriors would
go against him, only wild men; it were easier to make a false
beard.' So this is what he did, in order to seek combat with a man;
i.e. with Loch. Cuchulainn took a handful of grass, and said a
spell over it, so that every one thought he had a beard.
'True,' said the troop of women, 'Cuchulainn has a beard. It is
fitting for a warrior to fight with him.'
They had done this on urging Loch.
'I will not make combat against him till the end of seven days
from to-day,' said Loch.
'It is not fitting for us to have no attack on the man for this
space,' said Medb. 'Let us put a hero to hunt(?) him every night,
if perchance we may get a chance at him.'
This is done then. A hero used to come every night to hunt him, and
he used to kill them all. These are the names of the men who fell
there: seven Conalls, seven Oenguses, seven Uarguses, seven
Celtris, eight Fiacs, ten Ailills, ten Delbaths, ten Tasachs. These
are his deeds of this week in Ath Grencha.
Medb asked advice, to know what she should do to Cuchulainn, for
what had been killed of their hosts by him distressed her greatly.
This is the plan she arrived at, to put brave, high-spirited men to
attack him all at once when he should come to an appointed meeting
to speak with Medb. For she had an appointment the next day with
Cuchulainn to make a peace in fraud with him, to get hold of him.
She sent messengers forth to seek him that he should come to meet
her; and it was thus he should come, and he unarmed: 'for she would
come only with her troop of women to meet him.'
The messenger, Traigtren, went to the place where Cuchulainn was,
and tells him Medb's message. Cuchulainn promised that he would do
so.
'In what manner does it please you to go to meet Medb to-morrow, O
Cuchulainn?' said Loeg.
'As Medb has asked me,' said Cuchulainn.
'Great are Medb's deeds,' said the charioteer; 'I fear a hand
behind the back with her.'
'How is it to be done then?' said he.
'Your sword at your waist,' said the charioteer, 'that you may not
be taken at an unfair advantage. For the warrior is not entitled to
his honour-price if he is without arms; and it is the coward's law
that he deserves in that way.'
'Let it be done so then,' said Cuchulainn.
The meeting-place was in Ard Aignech, which is called Fochaird
to-day. Now Medb came to the meeting-place and set in ambush
fourteen men of her own special following, of those who were of
most prowess, ready for him. These are they: two Glassines, the two
sons of Bucchridi; two Ardans, the two sons of Licce; two
Glasogmas, the two sons of Crund; Drucht and Delt and Dathen; Tea
and Tascra and Tualang; Taur and Glese.
Then Cuchulainn comes to meet her. The men rise to attack him.
Fourteen spears are thrown at him at once. Cuchulainn guards
himself so that his skin or his ---- (?) is not touched. Then he
turns on them and kills them, the fourteen of them. So that they
are the fourteen men of Focherd, and they are the men of Cronech,
for it is in Cronech at Focherd that they were killed. Hence
Cuchulainn said: 'Good is my feat of heroism,' [Note: _Fo_, 'good';
_cherd_, 'feat.' Twelve lines of rhetoric.] etc.
So it is from this that the name Focherd stuck to the place; that
is, _focherd_, i.e. 'good is the feat of arms' that happened to
Cuchulainn there.
So Cuchulainn came, and overtook them taking camp, and there were
slain two Daigris and two Anlis and four Dungais of Imlech. Then
Medb began to urge Loch there.
'Great is the mockery of you,' said she, 'for the man who has
killed your brother to be destroying our host, and you do not go to
battle with him! For we deem it certain that the wild man, great
and fierce [Note: Literally, 'sharpened.'], the like of him yonder,
will not be able to withstand the rage and fury of a hero like you.
For it is by one foster-mother and instructress that an art was
built up for you both.'
Then Loch came against Cuchulainn, to avenge his brother on him,
for it was shown to him that Cuchulainn had a beard.
'Come to the upper ford,' said Loch; 'it would not be in the
polluted ford that we shall meet, where Long fell.'
When he came then to seek the ford, the men drove the cattle
across.
'It will be across your water [Note: Irish, _tarteisc_.] here
to-day,' said Gabran the poet. Hence is Ath Darteisc, and Tir Mor
Darteisc from that time on this place.
When the men met then on the ford, and when they began to fight and
to strike each other there, and when each of them began to strike
the other, the eel threw three folds round Cuchulainn's feet, till
he lay on his back athwart the ford. Loch attacked him with the
sword, till the ford was blood-red with his blood.
'Ill indeed,' said Fergus, 'is this deed before the enemy. Let each
of you taunt the man, O men,' said he to his following, 'that he
may not fall for nothing.'
Bricriu Poison-tongue Mac Carbatha rose and began inciting
Cuchulainn.
'Your strength is gone,' said he, 'when it is a little salmon that
overthrows you when the Ulstermen are at hand [coming] to you out
of their sickness yonder. Grievous for you to undertake a hero's
deed in the presence of the men of Ireland and to ward off a
formidable warrior in arms thus!'
Therewith Cuchulainn arises and strikes the eel so that its ribs
broke in it, and the cattle were driven over the hosts eastwards
by force, so that they took the tents on their horns, with the
thunder-feat that the two heroes had made in the ford.
The she-wolf attacked him, and drove the cattle on him westwards.
He throws a stone from his sling, so that her eye broke in her
head. She goes in the form of a hornless red heifer; she rushes
before the cows upon the pools and fords. It is then he said: 'I
cannot see the fords for water.' He throws a stone at the hornless
red heifer, so that her leg breaks under her. Then he sang a song:
'I am all alone before flocks;
I get them not, I let them not go;
I am alone at cold hours (?)
Before many peoples.
'Let some one say to Conchobar
Though he should come to me it were not too soon;
Magu's sons have carried off their kine
And divided them among them.
'There may be strife about one head
Only that one tree blazes not;
If there were two or three
Their brands would blaze. [Note: Meaning not clear.]
'The men have almost worn me out
By reason of the number of single combats;
I cannot work the slaughter (?) of glorious warriors
As I am all alone.
I am all alone.'
***
It is there then that Cuchulainn did to the Morrigan the three
things that he had promised her in the _Tain Bo Regamna_ [Note:
One of the introductory stories to the _Tain Bo Cuailnge_, printed
with translation in _Irische Texte_, 2nd series.]; and he fights
Loch in the ford with the gae-bolga, which the charioteer threw him
along the stream. He attacked him with it, so that it went into his
body's armour, for Loch had a horn-skin in fighting with a man.
'Give way to me,' said Loch. Cuchulainn gave way, so that it was on
the other side that Loch fell. Hence is Ath Traiged in Tir Mor.
Cuchulainn cut off his head then.
Then fair-play was broken with him that day when five men came
against him at one time; i.e. two Cruaids, two Calads, Derothor;
Cuchulainn killed them by himself. Hence is Coicsius Focherda, and
Coicer Oengoirt; or it is fifteen days that Cuchulainn was in
Focherd, and hence is Coicsius Focherda in the Foray.
Cuchulainn hurled at them from Delga, so that not a living thing,
man or beast, could put its head past him southwards between Delga
and the sea.
_The Healing of the Morrigan_
When Cuchulainn was in this great weariness, the Morrigan met him
in the form of an old hag, and she blind and lame, milking a cow
with three teats, and he asked her for a drink. She gave him milk
from a teat.
'He will be whole who has brought it(?),' said Cuchulainn; 'the
blessings of gods and non-gods on you,' said he. (Gods with them
were the Mighty Folk [Note: i.e. the dwellers in the Sid. The words
in brackets are a gloss incorporated in the text.]; non-gods the
people of husbandry.)
Then her head was healed so that it was whole.
She gave the milk of the second teat, and her eye was whole; and
gave the milk of the third teat, and her leg was whole. So that
this was what he said about each thing of them, 'A doom of blessing
on you,' said he.
'You told me,' said the Morrigan, 'I should not have healing from
you for ever.'
'If I had known it was you,' said Cuchulainn, 'I would not have
healed you ever.'
So that formerly Cuchulainn's throng (?) on Tarthesc was the name
of this story in the Foray.
It is there that Fergus claimed of his securities that faith should
not be broken with Cuchulainn; and it is there that Cuchulainn ...
[Note: Corrupt; one and a half lines.] i.e. Delga Murthemne at that
time.
Then Cuchulainn killed Fota in his field; Bomailce on his ford;
Salach in his village (?); Muine in his hill; Luair in Leth-bera;
Fer-Toithle in Toithle; these are the names of these lands for
ever, every place in which each man of them fell. Cuchulainn killed
also Traig and Dornu and Dernu, Col and Mebul and Eraise on this
side of Ath Tire Moir, at Methe and Cethe: these were three [Note:
MS. 'two.'] druids and their three wives.
Then Medb sent a hundred men of her special retinue to kill
Cuchulainn. . He killed them all on Ath Ceit-Chule. Then Medb said:
'It is _cuillend_ [Note: Interlinear gloss: 'We deem it a crime.']
to us, the slaying of our people.' Hence is Glass Chrau and
Cuillend Cind Duin and Ath Ceit-Chule.
Then the four provinces of Ireland took camp and fortified post in
the Breslech Mor in Mag Murthemne, and send part of their cattle
and booty beyond them to the south into Clithar Bo Ulad. Cuchulainn
took his post at the mound in Lerga near them, and his charioteer
Loeg Mac Riangabra kindled a fire for him on the evening of that
night. He saw the fiery sheen of the bright golden arms over the
heads of the four provinces of Ireland at the setting of the clouds
of evening. Fury and great rage came over him at sight of the host,
at the multitude of his enemies, the abundance of his foes. He took
his two spears and his shield and his sword; he shook his shield
and brandished his spears and waved his sword; and he uttered his
hero's shout from his throat, so that goblins and sprites and
spectres of the glen and demons of the air answered, for the terror
of the shout which they uttered on high. So that the Nemain
produced confusion on the host. The four provinces of Ireland came
into a tumult of weapons about the points of their own spears and
weapons, so that a hundred warriors of them died of terror and of
heart-burst in the middle of the camp and of the position that
night.
When Loeg was there, he saw something: a single man who came
straight across the camp of the men of Ireland from the north-east
straight towards him.
'A single man is coming to us now, O Little Hound!' said Loeg.
'What kind of man is there?' said Cuchulainn.
'An easy question: a man fair and tall is he, with hair cut broad,
waving yellow hair; a green mantle folded round him; a brooch of
white silver in the mantle on his breast; a tunic of royal silk,
with red ornamentation of red gold against the white skin, to his
knees. A black shield with a hard boss of white metal; a five
pointed spear in his hand; a forked (?) javelin beside it.
Wonderful is the play and sport and exercise that he makes; but no
one attacks him, and he attacks no one, as if no one saw him.'
'It is true, O fosterling,' said he; 'which of my friends from the
_síd_ is that who comes to have pity on me, because they know the
sore distress in which I am, alone against the four great provinces
of Ireland, on the Cattle-Foray of Cualnge at this time?'
That was true for Cuchulainn. When the warrior had reached the
place where Cuchulainn was, he spoke to him, and had pity on him
for it.
'This is manly, O Cuchulainn,' said he.
'It is not much at all,' said Cuchulainn.
'I will help you,' said the man.
'Who are you at all?' said Cuchulainn.
'It is I, your father from the _síd_, Lug Mac Ethlend.'
'My wounds are heavy, it were high time that I should be healed.'
'Sleep a little, O Cuchulainn,' said the warrior; 'your heavy
swoon (?) [Note: Conjectural--MS. _tromthortim_.] of sleep at the
mound of Lerga till the end of three days and three nights, and I
will fight against the hosts for that space.'
Then he sings the _ferdord_ to him, and he sleeps from it. Lug
looked at each wound that it was clean. Then Lug said:
'Arise, O great son of the Ulstermen, whole of thy wounds. ... Go
into thy chariot secure. Arise, arise!' [Note: Rhetoric.]
For three days and three nights Cuchulainn was asleep. It were
right indeed though his sleep equalled his weariness. From the
Monday after the end of summer exactly to the Wednesday after
Candlemas, for this space Cuchulainn had not slept, except when he
slept a little while against his spear after midday, with his head
on his clenched fist, and his clenched fist on his spear, and his
spear on his knee; but he was striking and cutting and attacking
and slaying the four great provinces of Ireland for that space.
It is then that the warrior of the síd cast herbs and grasses of
curing and charms of healing into the hurts and wounds and into
the injuries and into the many wounds of Cuchulainn, so that
Cuchulainn recovered in his sleep without his perceiving it at all.
Now it was at this time that the boys came south from Emain Macha:
Folloman Mac Conchobair with three fifties of kings' sons of
Ulster, and they gave battle thrice to the hosts, so that three
times their own number fell, and all the boys fell except Folloman
Mac Conchobair. Folloman boasted that he would not go back to Emain
for ever and ever, until he should take the head of Ailill with
him, with the golden crown that was above it. This was not easy to
him; for the two sons of Bethe Mac Bain, the two sons of Ailill's
foster-mother and foster-father, came on him, and wounded him so
that he fell by them. So that that is the death of the boys of
Ulster and of Folloman Mac Conchobair.
Cuchulainn for his part was in his deep sleep till the end of three
days and three nights at the mound in Lerga. Cuchulainn arose then
from his sleep, and put his hand over his face, and made a purple
wheelbeam from head to foot, and his mind was strong in him, and he
would have gone to an assembly, or a march, or a tryst, or a
beer-house, or to one of the chief assemblies of Ireland.
'How long have I been in this sleep now, O warrior?' said
Cuchulainn.
'Three days and three nights,' said the warrior.
'Alas for that!' said Cuchulainn.
'What is the matter?' said the warrior.
'The hosts without attack for this space,' said Cuchulainn.
'They are not that at all indeed,' said the warrior.
'Who has come upon them?' said Cuchulainn.
'The boys came from the north from Emain Macha; Folloman Mac
Conchobair with three fifties of boys of the kings' sons of Ulster;
and they gave three battles to the hosts for the space of the three
days and the three nights in which you have been in your sleep now.
And three times their own number fell, and the boys fell, except
Folloman Mac Conchobair. Folloman boasted that he would take
Ailill's head, and that was not easy to him, for he was killed.'
'Pity for that, that I was not in my strength! For if I had been in
my strength, the boys would not have fallen as they have fallen,
and Folloman Mac Conchobair would not have fallen.'
'Strive further, O Little Hound, it is no reproach to thy honour
and no disgrace to thy valour.'
'Stay here for us to-night, O warrior,' said Cuchulainn, 'that we
may together avenge the boys on the hosts.'
'I will not stay indeed,' said the warrior, 'for however great the
contests of valour and deeds of arms any one does near thee, it is
not on him there will be the renown of it or the fame or the
reputation, but it is on thee; therefore I will not stay. But ply
thy deed of arms thyself alone on the hosts, for not with them is
there power over thy life this time.'
'The scythe-chariot, O my friend Loeg!' said Cuchulainn; 'can you
yoke it? and is its equipment here? If you can yoke it, and if you
have its equipment, yoke it; and if you have not its equipment, do
not yoke it at all.'
It is then that the charioteer arose, and he put on his hero's
dress of charioteering. This was his hero's dress of charioteering
that he put on: his soft tunic of skin, light and airy,
well-turned [Note: Lit. 'kneaded.'], made of skin, sewn, of
deer-skin, so that it did not restrain the movement of his hands
outside. He put on his black (?) upper-cloak over it outside: Simon
Magus had made it for Darius, King of the Romans, so that Darius
gave it to Conchobar, and Conchobar gave it to Cuchulainn, and
Cuchulainn gave it to his charioteer. The charioteer took first
then his helm, ridged, like a board (?), four-cornered, with much
of every colour and every form, over the middle of his shoulders.
This was well-measured (?) to him, and it was not an overweight.
His hand brought the circlet of red-yellow, as though it were a
plate of red-gold, of refined gold smelted over the edge of an
anvil, to his brow, as a sign of his charioteering, in distinction
to his master.
He took the goads (?) of his horses, and his whip (?) inlaid in his
right hand. He took the reins to hold back his horses in his left
hand. [Note: Gloss incorporated in text: 'i. e. to direct his
horses, in his left hand, for the great power of his charioteering.']
Then he put the iron inlaid breastplates on the horses, so that
they were covered from forehead to forefoot with spears and points
and lances and hard points, so that every motion in this chariot
was spear-near, so that every corner and every point and every
end and every front of this chariot was a way of tearing. It is
then that he cast a spell of covering over his horses and over
his companion, so that he was not visible to any one in the
camp, and so that every one in the camp was visible to them.
It was proper that he should cast this, because there were the
three gifts of charioteering on the charioteer that day, the
leap over ----, and the straight ----, and the ----.
Then the hero and the champion and he who made the fold of the Badb
[Note: The Badb (scald-crow) was a war-goddess. This is an
expressive term for the piled-up bodies of the slain.] of the men
of the earth, Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim, took his battle-array of
battle and contest and strife. This was his battle-array of battle
and contest and strife: he put on twenty-seven skin tunics, waxed,
like board, equally thick, which used to be under strings and
chains and thongs, against his white skin, that he might not lose
his mind nor his understanding when his rage should come. He put on
his hero's battle-girdle over it outside, of hard-leather, hard,
tanned, of the choice of seven ox-hides of a heifer, so that it
covered him from the thin part of his sides to the thick part of
his arm-pit; it used to be on him to repel spears, and points, and
darts, and lances, and arrows. For they were cast from him just as
if it was stone or rock or horn that they struck (?). Then he put
on his apron, skin like, silken, with its edge of white gold
variegated, against the soft lower part of his body. He put on his
dark apron of dark leather, well tanned, of the choice of four
ox-hides of a heifer, with his battle-girdle of cows' skins (?)
about it over his silken skin-like apron. Then the royal hero took
his battle-arms of battle and contest and strife. These then were
his battle-arms of battle: he took his ivory-hilted, bright-faced
weapon, with his eight little swords; he took his five-pointed
spear, with his eight little spears [Note: In the margin: 'and his
quiver,' probably an interpolation.]; he took his spear of battle,
with his eight little darts; he took his javelin with his eight
little javelins; his eight shields of feats, with his round shield,
dark red, in which a boar that would be shown at a feast would go
into the boss (?), with its edge sharp, keen, very sharp, round
about it, so that it would cut hairs against the stream for
sharpness and keenness and great sharpness; when the warrior did
the edge-feat with it, he would cut equally with his shield, and
with his spear, and with his sword.
Then he put on his head a ridged-helmet of battle and contest and
strife, from which there was uttered the shout of a hundred
warriors, with along cry from every corner and every angle of it.
For there used to cry from it equally goblins and sprites and
ghosts of the glen and demons of the air, before and above and
around, wherever he used to go before shedding the blood of
warriors and enemies. There was cast over him his dress of
concealment by the garment of the Land of Promise that was given by
his foster-father in wizardry.
It is then came the first contortion on Cuchulainn, so that it made
him horrible, many-shaped, wonderful, strange. His shanks shook
like a tree before the stream, or like a rush against the stream,
every limb and every joint and every end and every member, of him
from head to foot. He made a ---- of rage of his body inside his
skin. His feet and his shins and his knees came so that they were
behind him; his heels and his calves and his hams came so that they
were in front. The front-sinews of his calves came so that they
were on the front of his shins, so that every huge knot of them was
as great as a warrior's clenched fist. The temple-sinews of his
head were stretched, so that they were on the hollow of his neck,
so that every round lump of them, very great, innumerable, not to
be equalled (?), measureless, was as great as the head of a month
old child.
Then he made a red bowl of his face and of his visage on him; he
swallowed one of his two eyes into his head, so that from his cheek
a wild crane could hardly have reached it [to drag it] from the
back of his skull. The other sprang out till it was on his cheek
outside. His lips were marvellously contorted. Tie drew the cheek
from the jawbone, so that his gullet was visible. His lungs and his
lights came so that they were flying in his mouth and in his
throat. He struck a blow of the ---- of a lion with his upper
palate on the roof of his skull, so that every flake of fire that
came into his mouth from his throat was as large as a wether's
skin. His heart was heard light-striking (?) against his ribs like
the roaring of a bloodhound at its food, or like a lion going
through bears. There were seen the palls of the Badb, and the
rain-clouds of poison, and the sparks of fire very red in clouds
and in vapours over his head with the boiling of fierce rage, that
rose over him.
His hair curled round his head like the red branches of a thorn in
the gap of Atalta (?). Though a royal apple-tree under royal fruit
had been shaken about it, hardly would an apple have reached the
ground through it, but an apple would have fixed on every single
hair there, for the twisting of the rage that rose from his hair
above him.
The hero's light rose from his forehead, so that it was as long,
and as thick, as a warrior's whet-stone, so that it was equally
long with the nose, till he went mad in playing with the shields,
in pressing on (?) the charioteer, in ---- the hosts. As high, as
thick, as strong, as powerful, as long, as the mast of a great
ship, was the straight stream of dark blood that rose straight up
from the very top of his head, so that it made a dark smoke of
wizardry like the smoke of a palace when the king comes to equip
himself in the evening of a wintry day.
After that contortion wherewith Cuchulainn was contorted, then the
hero of valour sprang into his scythed battle-chariot, with its
iron points, with its thin edges, with its hooks, and with its hard
points, with its sharp points (?) of a hero, with their pricking
goads (?), with its nails of sharpness that were on shafts and
thongs and cross-pieces and ropes (?) of that chariot.
It was thus the chariot was, with its body thin-framed (?),
dry-framed (?), feat-high, straight-shouldered (?), of a champion,
on which there would have been room for eight weapons fit for a
lord, with the speed of swallow or of wind or of deer across the
level of the plain. The chariot was placed on two horses, swift,
vehement, furious, small-headed, small-round, small-end, pointed,
----, red-breasted, ----, easy to recognise, well-yoked, ... One of
these two horses was supple, swift-leaping, great of strength, great
of curve, great of foot, great of length, ----. The other horse was
flowing-maned, slender-footed, thin-footed, slender-heeled, ----.
It is then that he threw the thunder-feat of a hundred, and the
thunder-feat of four hundred, and he stopped at the thunder-feat
of five hundred, for he did not think it too much for this equal
number to fall by him in his first attack, and in his first contest
of battle on the four provinces of Ireland; and he came forth in
this way to attack his enemies, and he took his chariot in a great
circuit about the four great provinces of Ireland, and he put the
attack of an enemy among enemies on them. And a heavy course was
put on his chariot, and the iron wheels of the chariot went into
the ground, so that it was enough for fort and fortress, the way
the iron wheels of the chariot went into the ground; for there
arose alike turfs and stones and rocks and flagstones and gravel of
the ground as high as the iron wheels of the chariot.
The reason why he cast the circle of war round about the four great
provinces of Ireland, was that they might not flee from him, and
that they might not scatter, that he might make sure of them, to
avenge the boys on them; and he comes into the battle thus in the
middle, and overthrew great fences of his enemies' corpses round
about the host thrice, and puts the attack of an enemy among
enemies on them, so that they fell sole to sole, and neck to neck;
such was the density of the slaughter.
He went round again thrice thus, so that he left a layer of six
round them in the great circuit; i.e. soles of three to necks of
three in the course of a circuit round the camp. So that its name
in the Foray is Sesrech Breslige, and it is one of the three not to
be numbered in the Foray; i.e. Sesrech Breslige and Imslige
Glendamnach and the battle on Garach and Irgarach, except that it
was alike dog and horse and man there.
This is what others say, that Lug Mac Ethlend fought along with
Cuchulainn the Sesrech Breslige. Their number is not known, and it
is impossible to count what number fell there of the rabble. But
the chief only have been counted. These are the names of the
princes and chiefs: two Cruads, two Calads, two Cirs, two Ciars,
two Ecells, three Croms, three Caurs, three Combirge, four
Feochars, four Furachars, four Cass, four Fotas, five Caurs, five
Cermans, five Cobthachs, six Saxans, six Dachs, six Dares, seven
Rochads, seven Ronans, seven Rurthechs, eight Roclads, eight
Rochtads, eight Rindachs, eight Corpres, eight Mulachs, nine Daigs,
nine Dares, nine Damachs, ten Fiachs, ten Fiachas, ten Fedelmids.
Ten kings over seven fifties did Cuchulainn slay in Breslech Mor
in Mag Murthemne; and an innumerable number besides of dogs and
horses and women and boys and people of no consequence and rabble.
For there did not escape one man out of three of the men of Ireland
without a thigh-bone or half his head or one eye broken, or without
being marked for ever. And he came from them after giving them
battle without wound or blood-stain on himself or on his servant or
on either of his horses.
Cuchulainn came next day to survey the host and to show his soft
fair form to the women and the troops of women and the girls and
the maidens and the poets and the bards, for he did not hold in
honour or dignity that haughty form of wizardry that had appeared
to them on him the night before. Therefore he came to show his soft
fair form that day.
Fair indeed the boy who came then to show his form to the hosts,
that is, Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim. The appearance of three heads of
hair on him, dark against the skin of his head, blood-red in the
middle, a crown gold-yellow which covers them. A fair arrangement
of this hair so that it makes three circles round the hollow of the
back of his head, so that each hair ----, dishevelled, very golden,
excellent, in long curls, distinguished, fair-coloured, over his
shoulders, was like gold thread.
A hundred ringlets, bright purple, of red-gold, gold-flaming, round
his neck; a hundred threads with mixed carbuncle round his head.
Four dimples in each of his two cheeks; that is, a yellow dimple,
and a green dimple, and a blue dimple, and a purple dimple. Seven
gems of brilliance of an eye, in each of his two royal eyes. Seven
toes on each of his two feet, seven fingers on each of his two
hands, with the grasp of a hawk's claws, with the seizure of a
griffin's claws on each of them separately.
Then he puts on his feast-dress that day. This was his raiment on
him: a fair tunic, proper; bright-purple, with a border with five
folds. A white brooch of white silver with adorned gold inlaid over
his white breast, as if it was a lantern full of light, that the
eyes of men could not look at for its splendour and its brightness.
A silken tunic of silk against his skin so that it covered him to
the top of his dark apron of dark-red, soldierly, royal, silken.
A dark shield; dark red, dark purple, with five chains of gold,
with a rim of white metal on it. A sword gold-hilted, inlaid with
ivory hilt of red-gold raised high on his girdle. A spear, long,
grey-edged, with a spear-head sharp, attacking, with rivets of
gold, gold-flaming by him in the chariot. Nine heads in one of his
two hands, and ten heads in the other hand. He shook them from him
towards the hosts. So that this is the contest of a night to
Cuchulainn. Then the women of Connaught raised themselves on the
hosts, and the women were climbing on the men to look at
Cuchulainn's form. Medb hid her face and dare not show her face,
but was under the shield-shelter for fear of Cuchulainn. So that it
is hence Dubthach Doeltenga of Ulster said:
'If it is the Riastartha, there will be corpses
Of men therefrom,' etc. [Note: Rhetoric, fifty-four lines.]
Fiacha Fialdana from Imraith (?) came to speak with the son of his
mother's sister, Mane Andoe his name. Docha Mac Magach went with
Mane Andoe: Dubthach Doeltenga of Ulster came with Fiacha Fialdana
from Imraith (?). Docha threw a spear at Fiacha, so that it went
into Dubthach. Then Dubthach threw a spear at Mane, so that it
went into Docha. The mothers of Dubthach and Docha were two
sisters. Hence is Imroll Belaig Euin. [Note: i.e. the Random Throw
of Belach Euin.]
(Or Imroll Belaig Euin is from this: the hosts go to Belach Euin,
their two troops wait there. Diarmait Mac Conchobair comes from the
north from Ulster.
'Let a horseman go from you,' said Diarmait, 'that Mane may come to
speak with me with one man, and I will come with one man to meet
him.' They meet then.
I have come,' said Diarmait, 'from Conchobar, who says to Medb and
Ailill, that they let the cows go, and make whole all that they
have done there, and bring the Bull [Note: i.e. bring Findbennach
to meet the Dun of Cualnge.] from the west hither to the Bull, that
they may meet, because Medb has promised it.'
'I will go and tell them,' said Mane. He tells this then to Medb
and Ailill.
'This cannot be got of Medb,' said Mane.
'Let us exchange arms then, 'said Diarmait, 'if you think it
better.'
'I am content,' said Mane. Each of them throws his spear at the
other, so that the two of them die, and so that the name of this
place is Imroll Belaig Euin.)
Their forces rush at each other: there fall three twenties of them
in each of the forces. Hence is Ard-in-Dirma. [Note: The Height of
the Troop.]
Ailill's folk put his king's crown on Tamun the fool; Ailill dare
not have it on himself. Cuchulainn threw a stone at him at Ath
Tamuin, so that his head broke thereby. Hence is Ath Tamuin and
Tuga-im-Tamun. [Note: i.e., Covering about Tamun.]
Then Oengus, son of Oenlam the Fair, a bold warrior of Ulster,
turned all the host at Moda Loga (that is the same as Lugmod) as
far as Ath Da Ferta: He did not let them go past, and he pelted
them with stones, and the learned say ---- before till they should
go under the sword at Emain Macha, if it had been in single combat
that they had come against him. Fair-play was broken on him, and
they slew him in an unequal fight.
'Let some one come from you against me,' said Cuchulainn at Ath Da
Ferta.
'It will not be I, it will not be I,' said every one from his
place. 'A scapegoat is not owed from my race, and if it were owed,
it would not be I whom they would give in his stead for a
scapegoat.'
Then Fergus Mac Roich was asked to go against him. He refuses to go
against his foster-son Cuchulainn. Wine was given to him, and he
was greatly intoxicated, and he was asked about going to the
combat. He goes forth then since they were urgently imploring him.
Then Cuchulainn said: 'It is with my security that you come against
me, O friend Fergus,' said he, 'with no sword in its place.' For
Ailill had stolen it, as we said before.
'I do not care at all,' said Fergus; 'though there were a sword
there, it would not be plied on you. Give way to me, O Cuchulainn,'
said Fergus.
'You will give way to me in return then,' said Cuchulainn.
'Even so,' said Fergus.
Then Cuchulainn fled back before Fergus as far as Grellach Doluid,
that Fergus might give way to him on the day of the battle. Then
Cuchulainn sprang in to Grellach Doluid.
'Have you his head, O Fergus?' said every one.
'No,' said Fergus, 'it is not like a tryst. He who is there is too
lively for me. Till my turn comes round again, I will not go.'
Then they go past him, and take camp at Crich Ross. Then Ferchu, an
exile, who was in exile against Ailill, hears them. He comes to
meet Cuchulainn. Thirteen men was his number. Cuchulainn kills
Ferchu's warriors. Their thirteen stones are there.
Medb sent Mand of Muresc, son of Daire, of the Domnandach, to fight
Cuchulainn. Own brothers were lie and Fer Diad, and two sons of one
father. This Mand was a man fierce and excessive in eating and
sleeping, a man ill-tongued, foul-mouthed, like Dubthach Doeltenga
of Ulster. He was a man strong, active, with strength of limb like
Munremar Mac Gerrcind; a fiery warrior like Triscod Trenfer of
Conchobar's house.
'I will go, and I unarmed, and I will grind him between my hands,
for I deem it no honour or dignity to ply weapons on a beardless
wild boy such as he.'
He went then to seek Cuchulainn. He and his charioteer were there
on the plain watching the host.
'One man coming towards us,' said Loeg to Cuchulainn.
'What kind of man?' said Cuchulainn.
'A man black, dark, strong, bull-like, and he unarmed.'
'Let him come past you,' said Cuchulainn.
He came to them therewith.
To fight against you have I come,' said Mand.
Then they begin to wrestle for a long time, and Mand overthrows
Cuchulainn thrice, so that the charioteer urged him.
'If you had a strife for the hero's portion in Emain,' said he,
'you would be mighty over the warriors of Emain!'
His hero's rage comes, and his warrior's fury rises, so that he
overthrew Mand against the pillar, so that he falls in pieces.
Hence is Mag Mand Achta, that is, Mand Echta, that is, Mand's death
there.
[From the Yellow Book of Lecan]
On the morrow Medb sent twenty-seven men to Cuchulainn's bog.
Fuilcarnn is the name of the bog, on this side of Fer Diad's Ford.
They threw their twenty-nine spears at him at once; i.e.
Gaile-dana with his twenty-seven sons and his sister's son, Glas
Mac Delgna. When then they all stretched out their hands to
their swords, Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe came after them out of the
camp. He gave a leap from his chariot when he saw all their
hands against Cuchulainn, and he strikes off the arms of the
twenty-nine of them.
Then Cuchulainn said: 'What you have done I deem help at the
nick of time (?).'
'This little,' said Fiacha, 'is a breach of compact for us
Ulstermen. If any of them reaches the camp, we will go with our
cantred under the point of the sword.'
'I swear, etc., since I have emitted my breath,' said Cuchulainn,
'not a man of them shall reach it alive.'
Cuchulainn slew then the twenty-nine men and the two sons of Ficce
with them, two bold warriors of Ulster who came to ply their might
on the host. This is that deed on the Foray, when they went to the
battle with Cuchulainn.
_This is the Combat of Fer Diad and Cuchulainn_
Then they considered what man among them would be fit to ward off
Cuchulainn. The four provinces of Ireland spoke, and confirmed, and
discussed, whom it would be fitting to send to the ford against
Cuchulainn. All said that it was the Horn-skin from Irrus Domnand,
the weight that is not supported, the battle-stone of doom, his own
dear and ardent foster-brother. For Cuchulainn had not a feat that
he did not possess, except it were the Gae Bolga alone; and they
thought he could avoid it, and defend himself against it, because
of the horn about him, so that neither arms nor many edges pierced
it.
Medb sent messengers to bring Fer Diad. Fer Diad did not come with
those messengers. Medb sent poets and bards and satirists [Note:
Ir. _aes glantha gemaidi_, the folk who brought blotches on the
cheeks (i.e. by their lampoons).] to him, that they might satirise
him and mock him and put him to ridicule, that he might not find a
place for his head in the world, until he should come to the tent
of Medb and Ailill on the Foray. Fer Diad came with those
messengers, for the fear of their bringing shame on him.
Findabair, the daughter of Medb and Ailill, was put on one side of
him: it is Findabair who put her hand on every goblet and on every
cup of Fer Diad; it is she who gave him three kisses at every cup
of them; it is she who distributed apples right frequent over the
bosom of his tunic. This is what she said: that he, Fer Diad, was
her darling and her chosen wooer of the men of the world.
When Fer Diad was satisfied and happy and very joyful, Medb said:
'Alé! O Fer Diad, do you know why you have been summoned into this
tent?'
'I do not know indeed,' said Fer Diad; 'except that the nobles of
the men of Ireland are there. What is there less fitting for me to
be there than for any other good warrior?'
'It is not that indeed,' said Medb; 'but to give you a chariot
worth three sevens of cumals [See previous note about _cumal_.] and
the equipment of twelve men, and the equal of Mag Murthemne from
the arable land of Mag Ai; and that you should be in Cruachan
always, and wine to be poured for you there; and freedom of your
descendants and of your race for ever without tribute or tax; my
leaf-shaped brooch of gold to be given to you, in which there are
ten score ounces and ten score half-ounces, and ten score _crosach_
and ten score quarters; Findabair, my daughter and Ailill's
daughter, for your one wife, and you shall get my love if you need
it over and above.'
'He does not need it,' said every, one: 'great are the rewards and
gifts.'
'That is true,' said Fer Diad, 'they are great; and though they are
great, O Medb, it is with you yourself they will be left, rather
than that I should go against my foster-brother to battle.'
'O men,' said she, said Medb (through the right way of division and
setting by the ears), 'true is the word that Cuchulainn spoke,' as
if she had not heard Fer Diad at all.
'What word is this, O Medb?' said Fer Diad.
'He said indeed,' said she, 'that he would not think it too much
that you should fall by him as the first fruits of his prowess in
the province to which he should come.'
'To say that was not fitting for him. For it is not weariness or
cowardice that he has ever known in me, day nor night. I swear,
etc., [Note: The usual oath, 'by the god by whom my people swear,'
understood.] that I will be the first man who will come to-morrow
morning to the ford of combat.'
'May victory and blessing come to you,' said Medb. 'And I think it
better that weariness or cowardice be found with you, because of
friendship beyond my own men (?). Why is it more fitting for him to
seek the good of Ulster because his mother was of them, than for
you to seek the good of the province of Connaught, because you are
the son of a king of Connaught?'
It is thus they were binding their covenants and their compact, and
they made a song there:
'Thou shalt have a reward,' etc.
There was a wonderful warrior of Ulster who witnessed that
bargaining, and that was Fergus Mac Roich. Fergus came to his tent.
'Woe is me! the deed that is done to-morrow morning!' said Fergus.
'What deed is that?' said the folk in the tent.
'My good fosterling Cuchulainn to be slain.'
'Good lack! who makes that boast?'
'An easy question: his own dear ardent foster-brother, Fer Diad Mac
Damain. Why do ye not win my blessing?' said Fergus; 'and let one
of you go with a warning and with compassion to Cuchulainn, if
perchance he would leave the ford to-morrow morning.'
'On our conscience,' said they, 'though it were you yourself who
were on the ford of combat, we would not come as far as [the ford]
to seek you.'
'Good, my lad,' said Fergus; 'get our horses for us and yoke the
chariot.'
The lad arose and got the horses and yoked the chariot. They came
forth to the ford of combat where Cuchulainn was.
'One chariot coming hither towards us, O Cuchulainn!' said Loeg.
For it is thus the lad was, with his back towards his lord. He used
to win every other game of _brandub_ [_Brandub_, the name of a
game; probably, like _fidchill_ and _buanfach_, of the nature of
chess or draughts.] and of chess-playing from his master: the
sentinel and watchman on the four quarters of Ireland over and
above that.
'What kind of chariot then?' said Cuchulainn.
'A chariot like a huge royal fort, with its yolcs strong golden,
with its great panel(?) of copper, with its shafts of bronze, with
its body thin-framed (?), dry-framed (?), feat-high, scythed,
sword-fair (?), of a champion, on two horses, swift, stout(?),
well-yoked (?), ---- (?). One royal warrior, wide-eyed, was the
combatant of the chariot. A beard curly, forked, on him, so that it
reached over the soft lower part of his soft shirt, so that it
would shelter (?) fifty warriors to be under the heavy ---- of the
warrior's beard, on a day of storm and rain. A round shield, white,
variegated, many-coloured on him, with three chains ----, so that
there would be room from front to back for four troops of ten men
behind the leather of the shield which is upon the ---- of the
warrior. A sword, long, hard-edged, red-broad in the sheath, woven
and twisted of white silver, over the skin of the bold-in-battle. A
spear, strong, three-ridged, with a winding and with bands of white
silver all white by him across the chariot.'
'Not hard the recognition,' said Cuchulainn; 'my friend Fergus
comes there, with a warning and with compassion to me before all
the four provinces.'
Fergus reached them and sprang from his chariot and Cuchulainn
greeted him.
'Welcome your coming, O my friend, O Fergus,' said Cuchulainn.
'I believe your welcome,' said Fergus.
'You may believe it,' said Cuchulainn; 'if a flock of birds come to
the plain, you shall have a duck with half of another; if fish come
to the estuaries, you shall have a salmon with half of another; a
sprig of watercress, and a sprig of marshwort, and a sprig of
seaweed, and a drink of cold sandy water after it.'
'That portion is that of an outlaw,' said Fergus.
'That is true, it is an outlaw's portion that I have,' said
Cuchulainn, 'for I have been from the Monday after Samain to this
time, and I have not gone for a night's entertainment, through
strongly obstructing the men of Ireland on the Cattle-Foray of
Cualnge at this time.'
'If it were for this we came,' said Fergus, 'we should have thought
it the better to leave it; and it is not for this that we have
come.'
'Why else have you come to me?' said Cuchulainn.
'To tell you the warrior who comes against you in battle and combat
to-morrow morning,' said he.
'Let us find it out and let us hear it from you then,' said
Cuchulainn.
'Your own foster-brother, Fer Diad Mac Damain.'
'On our word, we think it not best that it should be he we come to
meet,'said Cuchulainn, 'and it is not for fear of him but for the
greatness of our love for him.'
'It is fitting to fear him,' said Fergus, 'for he has a skin of
horn in battle against a man, so that neither weapon nor edge will
pierce it.'
'Do not say that at all,' said Cuchulainn, 'for I swear the oath
that my people swear, that every joint and every limb of him will
be as pliant as a pliant rush in the midst of a stream under the
point of my sword, if he shows himself once to me on the ford.'
It is thus they were speaking, and they made a song:
'O Cuchulainn, a bright meeting,' etc.
After that, 'Why have you come, O my friend, O Fergus?' said
Cuchulainn.
'That is my purpose,' said Fergus.
'Good luck and profit,' said Cuchulainn, 'that no other of the men
of Ireland has come for this purpose, unless the four provinces of
Ireland all met at one time. I think nothing of a warning before a
single warrior.'
Then Fergus went to his tent.
As regards the charioteer and Cuchulainn:
'What shall you do to-night?' said Loeg.
'What indeed?' said Cuchulainn.
'It is thus that Fer Diad will come to seek you, with new beauty of
plaiting and haircutting, and washing and bathing, and the four
provinces of Ireland with him to look at the fight. It would please
me if you went to the place where you will get the same adorning
for yourself, to the place where is Emer of the Beautiful Hair, to
Cairthend of Cluan Da Dam in Sliab Fuait.'
So Cuchulainn went thither that night, and spent the night with his
own wife. His adventures from this time are not discussed here now.
As to Fer Diad, he came to his tent; it was gloomy and weary that
Fer Diad's tent-servants were that night. They thought it certain
that where the two pillars of the battle of the world should meet,
that both would fall; or the issue of it would be, that it would be
their own lord who would fall there. For it was not easy to fight
with Cuchulainn on the Foray.
There were great cares on Fer Diad's mind that night, so that they
did not let him sleep. One of his great anxieties was that he
should let pass from him all the treasures that had been offered
to him, and the maiden, by reason of combat with one man. If he did
not fight with that one man, he must fight with the six warriors on
the morrow. His care that was greater than this was that if he
should show himself once on the ford to Cuchulainn, he was certain
that he himself would not have power of his head or life
thereafter; and Fer Diad arose early on the morrow.
'Good, my lad,' said he, 'get our horses for us, and harness the
chariot.'
'On our word,' said the servant, 'we think it not greater praise to
go this journey than not to go it.'
He was talking with his charioteer, and he made this little song,
inciting his charioteer:
'Let us go to this meeting,' etc.
The servant got the horses and yoked the chariot, and they went
forth from the camp.
'My lad,' said Fer Diad, 'it is not fitting that we make our
journey without farewell to the men of Ireland. Turn the horses
and the chariot for us towards the men of Ireland.'
The servant turned the horses and the chariot thrice towards the
men of Ireland. ...
'Does Ailill sleep now?' said Medb.
'Not at all,' said Ailill.
'Do you hear your new son-in-law greeting you?'
'Is that what he is doing?' said Ailill.
'It is indeed,' said Medb, 'and I swear by what my people swear,
the man who makes the greeting yonder will not come back to you on
the same feet.'
'Nevertheless we have profited by(?) the good marriage connection
with him,' said Ailill; 'provided Cuchulainn fell by him, I should
not care though they both fell. But we should think it better for
Fer Diad to escape.'
Fer Diad came to the ford of combat.
'Look, my lad,' said Fer Diad; 'is Cuchulainn on the ford?'
'He is not, indeed,' said the servant.
'Look well for us,' said Fer Diad.
'Cuchulainn is not a little speck in hiding where he would be,'
said the lad.
'It is true, O boy, until to-day Cuchulainn has not heard of the
coming of a good warrior [Note: Gloss incorporated in the text: 'or
a good man.'] against him on the Cattle Foray of Cualnge, and when
he has heard of it he has left the ford.'
'A great pity to slander Cuchulainn in his absence! For do you
remember how when you gave battle to German Garbglas above the
edge-borders of the Tyrrhene Sea, you left your sword with the
hosts, and it was Cuchulainn who killed a hundred warriors in
reaching it, and he brought it to you; and do you remember where we
were that night?' said the lad.
'I do not know it,' said Fer Diad.
'At the house of Scathach's steward,' said the lad, 'and you went
---- and haughtily before us into the house first. The churl gave
you a blow with the three-pointed flesh-hook in the small of your
back, so that it threw you out over the door like a shot.
Cuchulainn came into the house and gave the churl a blow with his
sword, so that it made two pieces of him. It was I who was steward
for you while you were in that place. If only for that day, you
should not say that you are a better warrior than Cuchulainn.'
'What you have done is wrong,' said Fer Diad, 'for I would not have
come to seek the combat if you had said it to me at first. Why do
you not pull the cushions [Note: LL _fortchai_. YBL has _feirtsi_,
'shafts.'] of the chariot under my side and my skin-cover under my
head, so that I might sleep now?'
'Alas!' said the lad, 'it is the sleep of a fey man before deer and
hounds here.'
'What, O lad, are you not fit to keep watch and ward for me?'
'I am fit,' said the lad; 'unless men come in clouds or in mist to
seek you, they will not come at all from east or west to seek you
without warning and observation.'
The cushions [Note: LL _fortchai_. YBL has _feirtsi_, 'shafts.']
of his chariot were pulled under his side and the skin under his
head. And yet he could not sleep a little.
As to Cuchulainn it is set forth:
'Good, O my friend, O Loeg, take the horses and yoke the chariot;
if Fer Diad is waiting for us, he is thinking it long.'
The boy rose and took the horses and yoked the chariot.
Cuchulainn stepped into his chariot and they came on to the ford.
As to Fer Diad's servant, he had not long to watch till he heard
the creaking of the chariot coming towards them. He took to waking
his master, and made a song:
'I hear a chariot,' etc.
(This is the description of Cuchulainn's chariot: one of the three
chief chariots of the narration on the Cattle Foray of Cualnge.)
'How do you see Cuchulainn?' said he, said Fer Diad, to his
charioteer.
'I see,' said he, 'the chariot broad above, fine, of white crystal,
with a yoke of gold with ---- (?), with great panels of copper,
with shafts of bronze, with tyres of white metal, with its body
thin-framed (?) dry-framed (?), feat-high, sword-fair (?), of a
champion, on which there would be room for seven arms fit for a
lord (?). A fair seat for its lord; so that this chariot,
Cuchulainn's chariot, would reach with the speed of a swallow or of
a wild deer, over the level land of Mag Slebe. That is the speed
and ---- which they attain, for it is towards us they go. This
chariot is at hand on two horses small-headed, small-round,
small-end, pointed, ----, red-breasted, ----, easy to recognise,
well-yoked. ... One of the two horses is supple(?), swift-leaping,
great of strength, great of foot, great of length, ----. The other
horse is curly-maned, slender-footed, narrow-footed, heeled, ----.
Two wheels dark, black. A pole of metal adorned with red enamel, of
a fair colour. Two bridles golden, inlaid. There is a man with fair
curly hair, broad cut (?), in the front of this chariot. There is
round him a blue mantle, red-purple. A spear with wings (?), and it
red, furious; in his clenched fist, red-flaming. The appearance of
three heads of hair on him, i.e. dark hair against the skin of his
head, hair blood-red in the middle, a crown of gold covers the
third hair.
'A fair arrangement of the hair so that it makes three circles
round about his shoulders down behind. I think it like gold thread,
after its colour has been made over the edge of the anvil; or like
the yellow of bees on which the sun shines in a summer day, is the
shining of each single hair of his hair. Seven toes on each of his
feet, and seven fingers on each of his hands, and the shining of a
very great fire round his eye, ---- (?) and the hoofs of his
horses; a hero's ---- in his hands.
'The charioteer of the chariot is worthy of him in his presence:
curly hair very black has he, broad-cut along his head. A cowl-dress
is on him open; two very fine golden leaf-shaped switches in his
hand, and a light grey mantle round him, and a goad of white silver
in his hand, plying the goad on the horses, whichever way the
champion of great deeds goes who was at hand in the chariot.
'He is veteran of his land (?): he and his servant think little of
Ireland.'
'Go, O fellow,' said he, said Fer Diad; 'you praise too much
altogether; and prepare the arms in the ford against his coming.'
'If I turned my face backwards, it seems to me the chariot would
come through the back of my neck.'
'O fellow,' said he, 'too greatly do you praise Cuchulainn, for it
is not a reward for praising he has given you'; and it is thus he
was giving his description, and he said:
'The help is timely,' etc.
It is not long afterwards that they met in the middle of the ford,
and Fer Diad said to Cuchulainn:
'Whence come you, O Cua?' said he (for [Note: An interpolation.]
_cua_ was the name of squinting in old Gaelic; and there were seven
pupils in Cuchulainn's royal eye, and two of these pupils were
squinting, and the ugliness of it is no greater than its beauty on
him; and if there had been a greater blemish on Cuchulainn, it is
that with which he reproached him; and he was proclaiming it); and
he made a song, and Cuchulainn answered:
'Whence art thou come, O Hound,' etc.
Then Cuchulainn said to his charioteer that he was to taunt him
when he was overcome, and that he was to praise him when he was
victorious, in the combat against Fer Diad. Then the charioteer
said to him:
'The man goes over thee as the tail over a cat; he washes thee as
foam is washed in water, he squeezes (?) thee as a loving mother
her son.'
Then they took to the ford-play. Scathach's ---- (?)came to them
both. Fer Diad and Cuchulainn performed marvellous feats.
Cuchulainn went and leapt into Fer Diad's shield; Fer Diad hurled
him from him thrice into the ford; so that the charioteer taunted
him again ---- and he swelled like breath in a bag.
His size increased till he was greater than Fer Diad.
'Give heed to the _Gae bolga_,' said the charioteer; he sent it to
him along the stream.
Cuchulainn seized it between his toes, and wielded it on Fer Diad,
into his body's armour. It advances like one spear, so that it
became twenty-four points. Then Fer Diad turned the shield below.
Cuchulainn thrust at him with the spear over the shield, so that it
broke the shaft of his ribs and went through Fer Diad's heart.
[_Fer Diad_:] 'Strong is the ash from thy right hand! The ---- rib
breaks, my heart is blood. Well hast thou given battle! I fall, O
Hound.'
[_Cuchulainn_:] 'Alas, O golden brooch, O Fer Diad! ----, O fair
strong striker! Thy hand was victorious; our dear foster
brotherhood, O delight of the eyes! Thy shield with the rim of
gold, thy sword was dear. Thy ring of white silver round thy noble
arm. Thy chess-playing was worthy of a great man. Thy cheek
fair-purple; thy yellow curling hair was great, it was a fair
treasure. Thy soft folded girdle which used to be about thy side.
That thou shouldst fall at Cuchulainn's hands was sad, O Calf! Thy
shield did not suffice which used to be for service. Our combat
with thee is not fitting, our horses and our tumult. Fair was the
great hero! every host used to be defeated and put under foot.
Alas, O golden brooch, O Fer Diad!'
***