Early Irish Myths and Sagas (21 page)

‘Do not be angry, then,’ said Lí Ban, ‘for Cú Chulaind’s charioteer, Lóeg, is here with the message that Cú Chulaind will bring a host.’ Labraid greeted the charioteer, saying ‘Welcome, Lóeg, for the sake of the woman with whom you have come and for the sake of everyone from whom you have come. Go home, now, and Lí Ban will follow you.’

Lóeg returned to Emuin, then, and related his adventure to Cú Chulaind and everyone else. Cú Chulaind sat up in bed and passed his hand over his face; then he spoke clearly to Lóeg, for the news the charioteer had brought had strengthened his spirits.

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Cú Chulaind told Lóeg ‘Go now to Emer and say to her that women of the Síde have come and destroyed me; tell her that I am mending and let her come and visit me.’ But Lóeg recited this poem to strengthen Cú Chulaind:

Great folly for a warrior
to lie under the spell of a wasting sickness;
it shows that spirits,
the folk of Tenmag Trogagi,
have bound you,
and tortured you,
and destroyed you,
through the power of a wanton woman.
Awake! Then the woman’s mockery will shatter
and your glorious valour will shine
among champions and warriors;
you will recover fully,
and take to action
and perform glorious deeds.
When the call of Labraid sounds,
O warlike man, rise that you might be great.

Lóeg went then to Emer and told her of Cú Chulaind’s condition. ‘Bad luck to you,’ she said, ‘for you visited the
Síde and brought back no cure for your lord. Shame on the Ulaid for not trying to heal him. If Conchubur were consumed, or Fergus overcome by sleep, or Conall Cernach laid low with wounds, Cú Chulaind would aid them.’ And she recited this poem:

Alas, son of Ríangabur,
that you visited the Síde
and returned with no cure
for the son of Deichtine’s spectre.

Shame on the Ulaid, with their generosity
among foster-fathers and foster-brothers,
not to be searching the dark world
to help their friend Cú Chulaind.

If Fergus had sunk into sleep,
and a single druid’s art could heal,
the son of Deichtine would not rest
until that druid had made his examination.

Or if it were Conall
who was beset by wounds and injuries,
the Hound would search the wide world
until he found a doctor to heal him.

If Lóegure Búadach were faced
with an overwhelming danger,
Cú would search the meadows of Eriu
to cure the son of Connad son of Iliu.

If it were Celtchair of the deceits
to whom sleep and long wasting had come,
Sétantae would be journeying
night and day through the Síde.

If it were Furbude of the fían
who was laid low for a long time,
Cú would search the hard earth
until he found a cure.

Dead the hosts of Sid Truim,
dispersed their great deeds;
since the sleep of the Side seized him,
their Hound outstrips hounds no more.

Alas! Your sickness touches me,
Hound of the smith of Conchubur;
my heart and mind are troubled –
I wonder if I might heal him.

Alas! Blood my heart,
wasting for the horseman of the plain
unless he should come here
from the assembly of Mag Muirthemni

He comes not from Emuin –
a spectre has parted us.
My voice is weak and mute
because he is in an evil state.

A month and a season and a year
without sleeping together,
without hearing a man
of pleasing speech, son of Ríangabur.

After that Emer went to Emuin to visit Cú Chulaind; she sat on his bed and said ’shame on you, lying there for love of a woman – long lying will make you sick.’ Then she recited this poem:

Rise, warrior of Ulaid!
Awake healthy and happy from sleep!
See the king of Emuin early in the morning –
do not indulge in excessive sleep.

See his shoulder full with crystal,
see his splendid drinking horns,
see his chariots traversing the valley,
see his ranks of fidchell pieces.

See his vigorous champions,
see his tall and gentle women,
see his kings – a course of danger –
see his very great queens.

See the onset of brilliant winter,
see each wonder in turn;
see then that which you serve,
its coldness and distance and dimness.

Heavy sleep wastes, is not good;
weariness follows oppression.
Long sleep is a draught added to satiety;
weakness is next to death.

Throw off sleep, the peace that follows drink,
throw it off with great energy.
Many gentle words have loved you.
Rise, warrior of Ulaid!

Cú Chulaind rose, then, and passed his hand over his face and threw off all weariness and sluggishness; he rose and went to Airbe Rofir. There he saw Lí Ban approaching; she spoke to him and invited him to the síd. ‘Where does Labraid dwell?’ he asked. ‘Not difficult that,’ she answered:

Labraid dwells on a clear lake
frequented by troops of women.
If you decide to meet him,
you will not regret your visit.

His bold right hand cuts down hundreds –
she who tells you knows.
Like the beautiful colour
of a violet his cheek.

Conchend keen for battle trembles
before the slender red sword of Labraid;
Labraid crushes the spears of foolish hosts
and breaks the shields of armoured warriors.

In combat his skin is as bright as his eyes.
More honourable than the men of the Síde,
he does not betray friends in great need.
He has cut down many thousands.

Greater his fame than that of young warriors:
he has invaded the land of Echu luil.
Like threads of gold his hair,
and his breath reeks of wine.

Most wonderful of men, he initiates battles;
fierce he is at distant borders.
Boats and horses race
past the island where Labraid dwells.

A man of many deeds across the sea:
Labraid Lúathlám ar Cladeb.
No fighting disturbs his domain –
the sleep of a multitude prevails.

Bridles of red gold for his horses,
and nothing but this:
pillars of silver and crystal.
That is the house where he dwells.

But Cú Chulaind replied ‘I will not go upon the invitation of a woman.’ ‘Then let Lóeg come and see everything,’ said Lí Ban. Lóeg accompanied Lí Ban, then. They went to Mag Lúada and An Bile Búada, over Óenach nEmna and into Óenach Fidgai, and there they found Áed Abrat and his daughters. Fand greeted Lóeg, asking ‘Why has Cú Chulaind himself not come?’ ‘He would not come upon a woman’s invitation, nor until he learned if it was from you that the invitation came.’ ‘It was from me,’ said Fand. ‘Now return to him at once, for the battle is today.’

Lóeg returned to Cú Chulaind, then, and Cú Chulaind asked him ‘How does it look, Lóeg?’ Lóeg answered ‘Time
it is to go, for the battle will be today.’ Then he recited this poem:

I arrived to find splendid sport,
a wonderful place, though all was customary.
I came to a mound, to scores of companies,
among which I found long-haired Labraid.

I found him sitting
in the mound, with thousands of weapons;
beautiful yellow hair he had,
tied back with a gold apple.

He recognized me, then,
by my five-folded crimson cloak.
He said to me ‘Will you come with me
to the house of Failbe Find?’

Two kings there are in the house:
Failbe Find and Labraid;
a great throng in the one house:
three fifties of men for each king.

Fifty beds on the right side
and fifty on the floor;
fifty beds on the left side
and fifty on the dais.

Bedposts of bronze,
white gilded pillars;
the candle before them
a bright precious stone.

At the doorway to the west,
where the sun sets,
a herd of grey horses, bright their manes,
and a herd of chestnut horses.

At the doorway to the east,
three trees of brilliant crystal,
whence a gentle flock of birds calls
to the children of the royal fort.

A tree at the doorway to the court,
fair its harmony;
a tree of silver before the setting sun,
its brightness like that of gold.

Three score trees there
whose crowns are meetings that do not meet.
Each tree bears ripe fruit.
for three hundred men.

There is in the síd a well
with three fifties of brightly coloured mantles,
a pin of radiant gold
in the corner of each mantle.

A vat of intoxicating mead
was being distributed to the household.
It is there yet, its state unchanging –
it is always full.

There is too in the house a woman
who would be distinguished among the women of Eriu:
she appears with yellow hair
and great beauty and charm.

Fair and wondrous
her conversation with everyone,
and the hearts of all men break
with love and affection for her.

This woman said, then,
‘Who is that lad I do not recognize?
Come here a while if it is you,
servant of the man of Muirthemne.’

I went very slowly,
fearing for my honour.
She said to me ‘Will he come to us,
the excellent only son of Deichtine?’

A pity that son did not go himself,
with everyone asking for him;
he could have seen for himself
the great house I visited.

If I possessed all of Eriu
and the kingship of yellow Brega,
I would give it all, no bad bargain,
to live in the place I visited.

‘Good that,’ said Cú Chulaind. ‘Good, indeed, and good that you should go, for everything in that land is good,’ said Lóeg. And he spoke on about the delights of the síd:

I saw a bright and noble land
where neither lie nor falsehood is spoken.
There lives a king who reddens troops:
Labraid Lúathlám ar Cladeb.

Passing across Mag Lúada,
I was shown An Bile Buada;
At Mag Denda I seized
a pair of two-headed snakes.

As we were together,
Lí Ban said to me
‘A dear miracle it would be
if you were Cú Chulaind and not you.’

A troop of beautiful women – victory without restraint –
the daughters of Áed Abrat,
but the beauty of Fand – brilliant sound –
neither king nor queen can match.

I could enumerate, as I know them,
the descendants of sinless Adam,
and still the beauty of Fand
would find no equal.

I saw gleaming warriors
slashing with their weapons;
I saw coloured garments,
garb that was not ignoble.

I saw gentle women feasting;
I saw their daughters.
I saw noble youths
traversing the wooded ridge.

I saw musicians in the house,
playing for the women;
but for the speed with which I left,
I would have been rendered helpless.

I have seen the hill where stood
the beautiful Eithne Ingubai,
but the woman I speak of now
would deprive troops of their senses.

Cú Chulaind went to this land, then; he took his chariot, and they reached the island. Labraid welcomed him, and all the women welcomed him, and Fand gave him a special welcome. ‘What now?’ asked Cú Chulaind. Labraid answered ‘Not difficult that – we will take a turn round the assembled host.’ They went out and found the host and looked it over, and the enemy seemed innumerable. ‘Go now,’ Cú Chulaind said to Labraid, so Labraid left, but Cú Chulaind remained with the host. Two druidic ravens announced Cú Chulaind’s presence; the host perceived this and said ‘No doubt the ravens are announcing the frenzied one of Eriu.’ And the host hunted them down until there was for the birds no place in the land.

Early one morning, Echu luil went to wash his hands in a spring; Cú Chulaind spied the man’s shoulder through an opening in his mantle and cast a spear through it. Thirty-three of the host were killed by Cú Chulaind. Finally, Senach Síaborthe attacked, and they fought a great battle before Cú Chulaind killed him. Labraid came, then, and routed the entire host; he asked Cú Chulaind to desist from the slaughter, but Lóeg said ‘I fear that the man will turn his anger against us, for he has not yet had his fill of fighting. Have three vats of cold water brought, that his rage might be extinguished.’ The first vat that Cú Chulaind entered boiled over, and the second became so hot that no one could endure it, but the third grew only moderately warm.

When the women saw Cú Chulaind, Fand recited this poem:

Stately the chariot-warrior who travels the road,
though he be young and beardless;
fair the driver who crosses the plain,
at evening, to Óenach Fidgai.

The song he sings is not the music of the Síde:
it is the stain of blood that is on him;
the wheels of his chariot echo
the bass song that he sings.

May the horses under his smooth chariot
stay for me a little, that I may look at them;
as a team their like is not to be found –
they are as swift as a wind of spring.

Fifty gold apples play overhead,
performing tricks on his breath;
as a king his like is not to be found,
not among gentle, not among fierce.

In each of his cheeks
a spot red as blood,
a green spot, a blue spot
and a spot of pale purple.

Seven lights in his eye –
he is not one to be left sightless.
It has the ornament of a noble eye:
a dark, blue-black eyelash.

A man known throughout Eriu
is already good; and this one has
hair of three different colours,
this young beardless lad.

A red sword that blood reddens
right up to its hilt of silver;
a shield with a boss of yellow gold
and a rim of white metal.

He steps over men in every battle;
valorous he enters the place of danger.
None of your fierce warriors
can match Cú Chulaind.

The warrior from Muirthemne,
Cú Chulaind, came here;
the daughters of Áed Abrat
they who brought him.

A long red drop of blood,
a fury rising to the treetops,
a proud high shout of victory,
a wailing that scatters spectres.

Lí Ban greeted him, then, with this poem:

Welcome, Cú Chulaind,
advancing boar,
great chieftain of Mag Muirthemni.
Great his spirit,
honour of battle-victorious champions,
heart of heroes,
strong stone of wisdom,
red in anger,
ready for the fair play of enemies,
one of the valorous warriors of Ulaid.
Beautiful his brilliance,
bright of eye to women.
Welcome, Cú Chulaind!

‘What have you done, Cú Chulaind?’ Lí Ban asked. Cú Chulaind answered:

I have cast my spear