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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We know thee not," answered Eochaid.

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

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

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

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

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

"Let us test that skill! said Mider.

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

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

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

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

"It is indifferent to me," said Eochaid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It shall be done!" said Mider.

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



MAC DATHO'S BOAR



INTRODUCTION

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

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

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



MAC DATHO'S BOAR



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Wife[FN#10]

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

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

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

Mac Datho

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

The Wife

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

Mac Datho

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

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

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

The Wife

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

Mac Datho

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is a mighty Boar," said Conor.

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

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

"Thus then shall it be," said Ailill.

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

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

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

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

[FN#11] Pronounced Brik-roo.

[FN#12] Pronounced Moon-raymer.

[FN#13] Pronounced Looch-ra.

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

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

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

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

[FN#14] Pronounced Leary.

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

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

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

"To whom then appertains it?" asked Ket.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who then is this?" said Ket.

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

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

"Where hast thou seen me?" said Eogan.

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

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

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

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

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

"Who is this?" asked Ket.

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

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

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

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

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

"Who is this?" asked Ket.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Conall replied to him:

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

[FN#16] Pronounced Finn-hoom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And concerning all this hath it been sung:

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

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

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

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

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

[FN#20] Pronounced Feeman.

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

[FN#22] Pronounced Doov-ta.

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

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

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

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

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

[FN#23] Pronounced Kay-hern.

[FN#24] Pronounced Fay-lim.



THE SICK-BED OF CUCHULAIN



INTRODUCTION

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

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

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

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

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

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



THE SICK-BED OF CUCHULAIN



Transcribed from the Lost Yellow Book of Slane

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[FN#25] Pronounced something like Croogh.

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

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

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

[FN#26] Pronounced Sooltam.

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

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

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

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

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

[FN#28] Pronounced Maw Mel.

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

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

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

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

And the man replied to her, and spoke thus:

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

[FN#29] Pronounced, nearly, Feega.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[FN#32] Pronounced Leary.

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

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

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

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

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

[FN#33] Spelt Truim.

[FN#34] Pronounced Reen-gabra.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Moreover to Emer he said:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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