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Books: Heroic Romances of Ireland Volume 1

A >> A. H. Leahy >> Heroic Romances of Ireland Volume 1

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15



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:

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