Early Irish Myths and Sagas (5 page)

Apart from being a remarkable tale, ‘The Wooing of Étaín’ has a remarkable history. Although it is preserved in Lebor na huidre, the beginning of the first section and the ending of the third are missing, and only the short second section is complete. This situation persisted until this century, when a complete version of the story was discovered lying innocently among a part of the Yellow Book of Lecan housed in Cheltenham; and in 1937 the complete text of ‘The Wooing of Étaín’ finally appeared in print.

The three sections are virtually independent tales. The first comprises a set of variations upon the regeneration theme of the rival lovers; thus, in the opening episode, Bóand goes from her husband Elcmar to the Dagdae and then back to Elcmar. Óengus’s efforts to win Étaín away from her father represent a variant of the type found in the Welsh ‘How Culhwch Won Olwen’, while his concealing her from Mider suggests that the two gods were originally rivals. In the second section, Echu and Ailill are the rival claimants, Ailill’s love-sickness recalling that of Gilvaethwy in ‘Math Son of Mathonwy’; Étaín goes from Echu to Ailill and back to Echu. In the final section, it is Mider and Echu who contest Étaín, and the tasks assigned Mider recall those imposed upon the Dagdae in the first section and those
imposed upon Culhwch; Étaín goes from Echu to Mider, back to Echu (in the person of her daughter), back to Mider and, in some traditions, back to Echu – the uncertain conclusion underlines the seasonal motif.

‘The Wooing of Étaín’ is also a kind of legal primer. The first section, wherein Óengus gains possession of Bruig na Bóinde (at Samuin, naturally), demonstrates that the Irish had a poetic sense of law. Frank O‘Connor says that ‘The trick – borrowing the use of New Grange for a day and a night and then claiming successfully that this means for all time – has some esoteric meaning which I cannot grasp’;
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but there is nothing esoteric here. Óengus’s argument that ‘it is in days and nights that the world passes’ explains everything. Mider uses the same trick in the third section, for, in claiming that Echu has ‘sold’ Étaíen, he is clearly arguing that ‘My arms round Étaín and a kiss from her’ entitle him to permanent possession of her, that it is in embraces and kisses that love is spent. (Actually, since the last fidchell game is played for an open stake, Mider could simply have asked for Étaín outright; but perhaps then Echu would not have kept the bargain.) Since Echu does not accept this argument – he claims that he has not sold Étaín – Mider is forced to trick him a second time; thinking that he has picked out Étaín from among the fifty women, Echu pledges himself content, but actually he has chosen his own (and Étaín’s) daughter. Mider’s name, appropriately, seems to derive from a Celtic root meaning ‘to judge’.

There was over Ériu a famous king from the Túatha Dé Danand, and Echu Ollathir was his name. Another name for him was the Dagdae, for it was he who performed miracles and saw to the weather and the harvest, and that is why he was called the Good God. Elcmar of Bruig na Bóinde had a wife whose name was Eithne, though she was also called Bóand.
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The Dagdae wanted to sleep with Bóand, and she would have allowed him, but she feared Elcmar and the extent of his power. The Dagdae sent Elcmar away, then, on a journey to Bress son of Elatha at Mag nInis; and as Elcmar was leaving, the Dagdae cast great spells upon him, so that he would not return quickly, so that he would not perceive the darkness of night, so that he would feel neither hunger nor thirst. The Dagdae charged Elcmar with great commissions, so that nine months passed like a single day, for Elcmar had said that he would return before nightfall. The Dagdae slept with Elcmar’s wife, then, and she bore him a son, who was named Óengus; and by the time of Elcmar’s return, she had so recovered that he had no inkling of her having slept with the Dagdae.

The Dagdae took his son to be fostered in the house of Mider at Brí Léith in Tethbae, and Óengus was reared there for nine years. Mider had a playing field at Brí Léith, and three fifties of the young boys of Ériu were there together with three fifties of the young girls. And Óengus was their leader, because of Mider’s love for him and because of his
handsomeness and the nobility of his people. He was also called the Mace Óc, for his mother had said ‘Young the son who is conceived at dawn and born before dusk.’
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Now Óengus fell out with Tríath son of Febal (or Gobor) of the Fir Bolg – Tríath was also a fosterling of Mider and was the other leader at play. Óengus had no mind to speak with Tríath, and he said ‘It angers me that the son of a slave should talk to me’, for he believed that Mider was his father and that he was heir to the kingship of Brí Léith, and he did not know of his relationship to the Dagdae. But Tríath answered ‘It angers me no less that a foundling who knows neither his mother nor his father should talk to me.’ Óengus went off to Mider, distressed and in tears at having been shamed by Tríath. ‘What is this?’ asked Mider. ‘Tríath has mocked me and thrown it in my face that I have neither father nor mother.’ ‘False,’ replied Mider. ‘Who are they, then, my father and my mother?’ ‘Echu Ollathir is your father, and Eithne, the wife of Elcmar of Bruig na Boinde, is your mother. I have reared you without Elcmar’s knowledge so it would not pain him that you were conceived behind his back.’ ‘Come with me, then,’ said Óengus, ‘that my father may acknowledge me and that I may no longer be bidden away and reviled by the Fir Bolg.’

Mider set out with his fosterling to speak with Echu, thus, and they came to Uisnech Mide at the centre of Ériu, for that is where Echu dwelt, with Ériu extending equally far in every direction, north and south, east and west. They found Echu in the assembly, and Mider called him aside to speak with the boy. ‘What would he like, this youth who has never been here before?’ asked Echu. ‘He would like his father to acknowledge him and give him land,’ answered Mider, ‘for it is not right that your son be without land when you are king of Ériu.’ ‘A welcome to him,’ said Echu, ‘for he is my son. But the land I have
chosen for him is still occupied.’ ‘What land is that?’ asked Mider. ‘Bruig na Bóinde, to the north,’ said Echu. ‘Who is there?’ asked Mider. ‘Elcmar is the man who is there,’ said Echu, ‘and I have no wish to disturb him further.’

‘What advice, then, can you give the boy?’ asked Mider. Echu answered ‘This: he is to go into the Bruig at Samuin, and he is to go armed, for that is a day of peace and friendship among the men of Eriu, and no one will be at odds with his fellow. Elcmar will be at Cnocc Side in the Bruig with no weapon but a fork of white hazel in his hand; he will be wearing a cloak with a gold brooch in it, and he will be watching three fifties of youths at play on the playing field. Óengus is to go to Elcmar and threaten to kill him, but he should not do so provided he obtains his request. That request is that Óengus be king in the Bruig for a day and a night, but Óengus must not return the land to Elcmar until the latter agrees to abide by my judgement. Óengus is to argue that the land is his by right in return for his having spared Elcmar – that he requested the kingship of day and night and that it is in days and nights that the world passes.’

Mider set out for his land, then, and his fosterling with him, and on the following Samuin, Óengus armed himself and went into the Bruig and threatened Elcmar; and the latter promised him a kingship of day and night in his land. Óengus remained there as king of the land during that day and that night, and Elcmar’s people did his will. The next day, Elcmar came to reclaim his land from the Mace Óc, and at that, a great argument arose, for the Mace Óc said that he would not yield the land until Elcmar had put the question to the Dagdae before the men of Eriu. They appealed to the Dagdae, then, and he adjudged the rights of each man according to their agreement. ‘By right, the land now belongs to this youth,’ Elcmar concluded. ‘Indeed,
it does,’ said the Dagdae. ‘He hewed at you menacingly on a day of peace and friendship, and since your life was dearer to you than your land, you surrendered the land in return for being spared. Even so, I will give you land that is no worse than the Bruig.’ ‘What land is that?’ asked Elcmar. ‘Cletech, and the three lands about it, and the boys from the Bruig playing before you every day, and the fruit of the Bóand for your enjoyment.’ ‘Fair enough – let it be thus,’ said Elcmar, and he set out for Cletech and built a fort there, and the Mace Óc remained in the Bruig.

One year after that, Mider went to the Bruig to visit his foster-son, and he found the Mace Óc on the mound of the Bruig, it being Samuin, with two groups of boys playing before him and Elcmar watching from the mound of Cletech to the south. A quarrel broke out among the boys in the Bruig, and Mider said ‘Do not trouble yourself – otherwise Elcmar may come to the plain. I will go and make peace among them.’ Mider went, then, but it was not easy for him to part them; moreover, a sprig of holly was hurled at him, and it put out one of his eyes. Mider returned to the Mace Óc, his eye in his hand, and said ‘Would that I had never come to seek news of you, for I have been shamed: with this blemish, I can neither see the land I have come to nor return to the land I have left.’ ‘Not at all,’ answered the Mace Óc, ‘for I will go to Dían Cécht, and he will come and heal you. Your own land will be yours again, and this land will be yours also, and your eye will be healed, without shame or blemish.’

The Mace Óc went to Dían Cécht and asked him to come and save his foster-father, who had been injured in the Bruig on Samuin; and Dían Cécht came and tended to Mider until the latter was well. Mider said, then, ‘Since I have been healed, it would please me to leave now.’ ‘Well that,’ said the Mace Óc. ‘But stay for a year and see my warriors
and my people and my household and my land.’ ‘I will not stay,’ answered Mider, ‘unless I have a reward.’ ‘What sort of reward?’ asked the Mace Óc. ‘Not difficult that,’ answered Mider. ‘A chariot worth seven cumals and clothing appropriate to my rank and the fairest woman in Ériu.’
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‘I have the chariot and the clothing,’ said the Mace Óc, whereupon Mider said ‘I know of the woman whose beauty surpasses that of every other woman in Ériu.’ ‘Where is she?’ asked the Mace Óc. ‘She is of the Ulaid,’ answered Mider, ‘daughter of Ailill, king of the north-eastern part of Ériu; Étaín Echrade is her name, and she is the fairest and gentlest and most beautiful woman in Ériu.’