Chapter XII: Book X

A man of powerful bigness, excellent
In shape and race, arose to attack Cucullin
At milking-time next morn. This was Nathcrantil,
A prowess-full man of Maev’s and Al-yill’s folk.
He deemed it not worth while to bear his weapons
Down to the pool; but thrice nine little spits
Of holly, sharpened, singed, and burned, he took
Down to the pool, wherewith to kill Cucullin.
Finding the youth before him in the ford,
He hurled a spit on him, whereat Cucullin
Leapt in the air, and lighted very lightly
Upon the upper end of the little spit,
E’en as it struck into the ground. Nathcrantil
Then hurled on him his second spit. Cucullin,
Like any bird, flew from the first spit, lighting
Upon the upper end of the second spit,
E’en as it struck into the ground. Nathcrantil
Then hurled on him his third spit; and Cucullin
Flew to the third; and so from spit to spit
He passed, until the last of those thrice nine
Had been discharged at him: there were no more.
It was just then that a long bird-flock came
O’er the cleared plain hard by them; and Cucullin,
Like any bird, went after them, that so
They might not go from him, and that he so
Might get his share of food for night that night;
For fish and birds and deer-flesh on this Táin
Were all he had to serve and nourish him.
But this is what seemed plain now to Nathcrantil—
Namely, that it was in a road of rout,
Of flight and of defeat that thus Cucullin
Had gone from him. He went upon his way
To the tent-door of Al-yill and of Maev;
And there he lifted his loud voice on high
Like to the wave-roar of the sea. “That youth,”
He said to them, “whom ye denominate
‘The most renowned Cucullin’ went from me
In road of rout, of flight, and of defeat,
At milking-time this morn.” Maev answered him:
“We knew it would be true that when a hero
And a good warrior should advance to him,
That young, unbearded wildling would not stand
For long before him. We see now ’tis true;
For when a deedful warrior goes, the youth
Fights not, but flees in rout and flight before him.”
That thing was heard by Fergus; and to him
’Twas as his death-wound that a man should boast
Of having made Cucullin flee. He said
To Feeaha the son of Conall Carna:
“Go, Feeaha, address Cucullin. Say
From me that he was noble, generous,
While he was bravely out before the hosts;
And it were nobler now to hide himself
Than to flee thus before one man of them.
It is no greater shame to him to hide
Than ’tis to others who are hiding now.”
Feeaha, therefore, went to address Cucullin.
Cucullin welcomed him. “Faithful to me
I deem that welcome,” Feeaha replied;
“But this time I have come to thee from Fergus.
He says that thou wast noble, generous,
While thou wast bravely out before the hosts;
And it were nobler now to hide thyself
Than thus to flee before one man of them;
For ’tis no greater shame to thee to hide
Than ’tis to others who are hiding now.”
“Which man among you boasts?” Cucullin asked.
“Nathcrantil, verily,” said Feeaha.
“The feat which I performed upon his spits,”
Cucullin said, “should have debarred that boasting.
But do not Fergus and all chiefs in Ulster
Know that I ne’er do harm to charioteers
Or messengers or folk unarmed? Not arms
Were with this man, but little spits of wood.
I will not wound him till he brings his arms.
Let him come down ’twixt Fauhan and the sea
To-morrow, armed; and then, however early
He comes there, he will find me ready there;
And, verily, I will not flee before him.”
Feeaha straight returned unto the camp.
He told these words. It to Nathcrantil then
Seemed long until the light of day should come
Next day when he should go to attack Cucullin.
At earliest light of dawning-time next day
Cucullin rose after the watch of the night
His anger came on him. In rapid anger
He flung his bratt around him, and observed not
The stone of rock which was beside him there;
So that he flung his bratt around the stone,
Plucking it from the earth; and it remained
Between his body and his bratt. He knew not
That he had plucked it, owing to that anger
Which was upon him then. Nathcrantil came.
His arms that day were carried on a wain,
So many were they. Then he saw Cucullin,
Who was transformed with ire and battle-rage.
He knew him not. “Art thou indeed Cucullin?”
He said. “And if I am?” Cucullin asked.
“Then,” said Nathcrantil, “thou art more a warrior
Than thou wast yesterday. Nevertheless,
It would not be the head of a small lamb
That I would carry to the camp to be
My trophy; and I will not take the head
Of any beardless boy.” “I am not he,”
Cucullin said; “go to him round the hill.”
Cucullin came to Laeg. “O Laeg,” he said,
“Pluck up thy fistfuls of this winter grass,
Which is brown-yellow, withered. Bind the grass
Around my chin that I may have my beard;
He will not slay me while I lack it.” Laeg
Plucked up the grass, and made the beard, and then
Cucullin met Nathcrantil round the hill.
“I think that is more fitting,” said Nathcrantil,
Mocking, disdainful; “but I now will fight thee.
Take the right way of fighting with me now.”
“Instruct me in the way,” Cucullin said.
“When I shall throw a cast,” Nathcrantil answered,
“Elude it not; but keep thy ground.” Cucullin
Replied: “I vow that I will not elude it,
Except by ascending.” Then Nathcrantil threw
A powerful cast. Cucullin leapt a leap
Into the air, ascending; and the spear
Passed underneath him as he leapt. Nathcrantil
Cried angrily: “Thou workest ill, thou wildling,
Thus to elude my cast.” Cucullin said:
“Elude my cast by ascending.” Then he threw
A powerful cast on high, so that the spear
Struck on Nathcrantil from on high, and struck
The crown of his head, and pierced the bone of his crown.
“Alas!” Nathcrantil said, “thou art indeed
The best war-champion which there is in Erin.
I in the camp have four and twenty sons.
I will go tell them now what hidden riches
I have; and I will come to thee again,
That thou mayst take from me my head. I die
If once thy spear be taken from my head.”
“Good,” said Cucullin, “thou wilt come again.”
Nathcrantil went to the camp of the men of Erin.
Each one then came to meet him. “Where,” said each,
“Is the head of the Ree-astartha? Hast thou slain him?”
“Wait, heroes,” said Nathcrantil, “I must speak
To my own sons, and then go back again
To fight Cucullin at the ford.” He came
Soon to the stream again. He cast his sword
Against Cucullin; and the sword broke in two
Against the stone of rock which was between
Cucullin’s body and his bratt; and then
Cucullin with his sword sprang at Nathcrantil,
And took from him his head to be a trophy
And war-memorial of this first combat
Which he had fought with a great battle-hero
Amidst the heroes of the men of Erin.

The men of Erin then deliberated
As to who should be sent from them the next
To attack Cucullin; and all said that Coor
Son of Daw-loath´ was he. For Coor was thus:
A rough and bitter hero, very surly;
And it was difficult to be with him
In eating or in sleeping. All averred
That should it be this Coor who should be slain,
That would remove from them a sore oppression;
Yet should it be Cucullin who should fall,
That would be better. Then Maev sent for Coor.
“Ye think my powers sure and wonderful!”
Said Coor. “A youth like that one is too tender
For such as I am. Had I known this thing,
I had not come; but I had found a gillie
Of equal age with him from ’midst my people,
To go against him at the ford.” “O Coor,”
Cormac Conlingish, then (the son of Conor),
Said to him, “it will be a marvel to us
If thine own strength avails to slay Cucullin.”
“Good, then,” said Coor, “since on myself ’tis laid,
Make ready to fare forth to-morrow morn
Early upon your road. ’Twill not delay me
For long to kill that little, young wild deer.
I will prepare a clear, free road before you.”
When the bright-lofty, fiery-blazing sun
Arose next morn above the mountain, Coor
Son of Daw-loath´ arose. He took with him
A loaded wain of war-gear and of weapons,
Wherewith to kill Cucullin. That same morn
Cucullin very early fell to playing
His various feats of skill which he had learnt
From Oo-aha, from Scawtha, and from Weefa
Far in the east. At rising-hour each morn
It was his wont to play each feat of them,
That so not one might ever go from him
Into oblivion and forgetfulness.
Coor for a third-part of the day remained
Behind the rampart of his shield, expecting
To kill Cucullin; and Cucullin ceased not
The madness of his feats; and he observed not
Coor who lurked there. ’Twas then Laeg said: “O Cucuc,
’Twere well to serve that man who is expecting
To kill thee here.” Cucullin then was playing
His apple-feat; and the eight apples rose
And fell from hand to hand through the clear air,
Like flying bees on a bright summer’s day.
He, with the apple in his hand, then made
A warrior-cast, which pierced Coor’s shield, and pierced
His brow, and bore a portion of Coor’s brains
Out through the rearward hollow of his nape.
So at that ford Coor found his end of life-time.
Fergus went up to speak with Maev and Al-yill.
“Arrest your course!” he cried. “Make your camp here
Till light of rising-time to-morrow morn.
Then ye must find some other champion. Coor
Son of Daw-loath´ hath found his end of life-time.”

The Four Great Fifths of Erin rested then
A little to the westward of Drumenna,
And made their camp and their encampment there.
After that day, for very many days,
Even weeks of days, in combat with Cucullin
Each day a warrior fell. Of the distinguished
Men who fell so were Lath son of Daw-bro´,
Srub Dawra son of Fedig, Bove and Cruthen,
Nathcorpa, Marc, Maellia and Boguina.
Howbeit, to tell the manner of the fall
Of every separate man of these were tedious.
After those weeks of days of daily combat,
On that lone lad who there defended Ulster—
On that Cucullin—there grew weariness,
And wearing-out of strength, and hard exhaustion,
By reason of the hardness of those combats
And their great number; and he feared indeed
That he himself, through that great weariness,
Would fall in fight with some unwearied champion,
Some fresh, unwasted man from ’midst those hosts.

This was the time and hour wherein Cucullin
Said to his charioteer, even to Laeg:
“Go from me, Laeg; go unto yonder camp
Of the men of Erin; bear interrogation
To those who have a bond with me, my brethren
In arms, my fellow-learners and co-pupils:
Faerdeeah son of Daman son of Dawra,
Faerbay the son of Baetan, and Faerbay
Son of Faerbend, and Bress the son of Ferb,
And Lewy son of Solmoy, and Faerdaet
A son of Daman. And bear, furthermore,
His own interrogation separately
To my own genuine foster-brother, Lewy
The son of Nōs the son of Alamac,
Who, when I was far distant, with regard
To Emer daughter of Forgall, held in honour
My honour. Bear to him my special blessing.
Ask him, that he may tell to thee what man
Will come to attack me at the ford to-morrow.”
Laeg, at those words, went forth into the camp
Of the men of Erin; and he took with him
Interrogation to the fellow-pupils
And comrades of Cucullin; and he went
After that straight into the tent of Lewy
The son of Nōs; and Lewy welcomed him.
“Truly, I think that thou art faithful,” Laeg said.
“Faithful toward thee I am indeed,” said Lewy.
“I come,” said Laeg, “to address thee from Cucullin.
To thee especially and separately
He sent interrogation and his special
Blessing, that thou mayst tell to me what man
Will go to attack him at the ford to-morrow.”
Lewy replied: “May the anathema
Of all his friendship and his comradeship
Be on the man who will go! It is Cucullin’s
Own fellow-learner, brother-in-arms, and comrade,
Faerbay son of Faerbend. A while ago
He was convoyed to the wide, royal tent
Of Maev and Al-yill. The maid Findabair
Was placed at his one hand. ’Tis she who brimmed
His drinking-horn. ’Tis she who gave a kiss
With every draught she poured. ’Tis she who set
Her own hands to his portion. Not for all
Does Maev intend that wine which was poured out
There for Faerbay; for only fifty wains
Thereof were brought from Croohan.” Laeg went back,
Grieved, heavy-headed, very sad, unjoyful,
Sighing. Cucullin saw him, and he said:
“’Tis heavy-headed, very sad, unjoyful,
Sighing, that Laeg is as he comes. ’Tis truly
One of my comrades and my fellow-pupils
Who will come forth to fight with me to-morrow.
Good, my good Laeg,” Cucullin said, “who comes
To attack me here to-morrow?” Laeg replied:
“May the sure malediction of his bond
And of his friendship and his comradeship
Be on the man who will come! It is thy very
Own fellow-learner, brother-in-arms, and comrade,
Faerbay son of Faerbend. A while ago
He was convoyed to the wide, royal tent
Of Maev and Al-yill. The maid Findabair
Was placed at his one hand. ’Tis she who brimmed
His drinking-horn. ’Tis she who gave a kiss
With every draught she poured. ’Tis she who set
Her own hands to his portion. Not for all
Does Maev intend that wine which was poured out
There for Faerbay; for only fifty wains
Thereof were brought from Croohan.” “O good Laeg,”
Cucullin cried, “return again to Lewy.
Bid him come hither to this hill of Crannig,
Here to have speech with me.” Lewy came there.
“Is it indeed Faerbay son of Faerbend,”
Cucullin said, “who will come forth to-morrow?”
“’Tis he indeed,” said Lewy. “Alas! for that!”
Cucullin said, “I shall not be in life
After that combat and that meeting. Two
Of equal age we are, of equal deftness,
Two equal when we meet. And he is fresh,
Not having fought, while I am worn and wearied
By reason of the number of these combats,
And watching here alone before yon hosts.
O Lewy, greet Faerbay from me. Say this:
’Tis not true soldiership to come against me.
Bid him come down beneath this hill to-night
And speak with me himself.” Lewy went back.
He gave Cucullin’s words; yet, notwithstanding
Those words, Faerbay would not refuse the combat.
When, then, he thus would not refuse the combat,
Faerbay delayed not till the morn, but went
At meeting-time of day with night that night,
To address Cucullin, and to put away
His league and his sword-friendship with Cucullin.
And Feeaha the son of Conall Carna
Went with him to the glen. Cucullin there,
Meeting Faerbay, firmly appealed to him
By the great foster-mother and preceptress
Who had taught both of them, namely, by Scawtha,
Preceptress of the warriors of the east;
And still Faerbay would not refuse that combat.
When, then, Faerbay would not refuse the combat,
Hot ire, fire-fleet, vehement, very sudden,
Laid hold upon Cucullin. “Then, Faerbay,”
He cried, “recant thy league and thy sword-friendship.”
And he moved off from him in rage and anger.
As he was going, then, up the rough, dark hill,
Sharply he trod on a sharp holly-shoot,
Which pierced the sole of his foot, and bathed itself
Amidst his skin and blood and bones. He dragged it
Out from his sole, and dragged it from its roots,
And shouted to Faerbay: “Go not, Faerbay,
Till thou hast seen this find which I have found.”
“Throw it,” Faerbay said; and Cucullin threw
Over his shoulder backward the sharp spike
Which had been bathed in the blood and flesh of his foot.
It was one thing to him whether it reached
Faerbay or reached him not; and he looked not
Behind him once to know whether it reached.
That missile struck Faerbay in his hollow nape,
And issued ’twixt his lips to the ground. Whereat,
Feeaha son of Conall Carna shouted—
“Mah thra an faughard” (Good is the cast indeed).
He thought it wonderful that one should slay
A champion with a little holly-spine.
Faerbay son of Faerbend died there that eve
Within that glen beside the height of Crannig.
Something was heard. Fergus it was, who sang
With hatred and great scorn and joyfulness:
“Truly, Faerbay, foolish thy journey was,
Unto this glen where now thy grave shall be.
Death and last end have reached thee in this place,
Where thou didst put from thee thy friendship-vow.
And Faughard now (The Cast) shall be the name
On Crannig, yonder high, rough-sided hill,
Whence that good cast of the holly-shaft was made.
And Glen Faerbay shall be the undying name
On thy death-glen, where now thou liest, Faerbay.”
At morn Cucullin sent his charioteer,
Laeg son of Ree-angowra, unto Lewy,
That he might ask whether Faerbay still lived,
And whether he was coming to that combat,
Which he had vowed to fight. Then Lewy said:
“A blessing on the hand which served that service!
Faerbay fell dying down in yon glen last night.”

When Laeg had fared to his own lord again,
Lewy went up to the tent of Maev and Al-yill.
“A man of you to go against that other!”
He cried; then went to his own tent again.
Then Maev devised a plan. “Listen, O Al-yill,”
She said; “upon this Táin with yonder Lewy
The son of Nōs the son of Alamac
There is a brother. He is a young youth,
Unwise, weak, childish, vain, puffed, insolent.
We will caress him, till, enticed by us,
He shall go down to the ford to fight Cucullin.
He will be slain; whereon that hero, Lewy
The son of Nōs the son of Alamac,
Despite his foster-friendship for Cucullin,
Will be compelled by honour to go down
And slay Cucullin to avenge that brother.
Lewy, we think, indeed, can overcome him.”
“The plan is good,” said Al-yill. That same night
That youth they spoke of, namely, Laeriny
The son of Nōs the son of Alamac
Was summoned to their tent. His satisfaction
And glorying in that honour which Maev showed him
Were very great. The maiden Findabair
Was placed at his one side. ’Twas she who brimmed
His drinking-horn. ’Twas she who gave a kiss
With every draught she poured. ’Twas she who set
Her own hands to his food. Maev said to him:
“We give thee this, thou hero Laeriny:
It is the last of the wine we brought from Croohan.”
“What art thou saying there, O Maev?” said Al-yill,
Speaking as though he knew not Laeriny.
“I am addressing that man there,” said Maev.
“Who is the man?” said Al-yill. Maev replied
To Al-yill, speaking so that Laeriny
Should hear the words she said: “Often, O Al-yill,
Thou hast bestowed thy care on things unfit.
’Tis fit that thou shouldst now bestow thy care
On yonder couple who have greater beauty
And worthiness and pride than any couple
On any road in Erin,—Findabair,
I mean, and Laeriny.” “Yea,” Al-yill said,
“I see them so. That union would be fitting.
I will not hinder it, if he but bring
Here to the camp the head of the Ree-astartha.”
It was then, in his joy, that Laeriny
Gave to himself a bending and a shaking,
So that he broke the seams of the quilted cushion
Which was beneath him; and the grassy green
Was sprinkled with its feathers. It to him
Seemed that it would be easy to o’ercome
The Ree-astartha, and to take his head,
And bring that head to Al-yill. It to him
Seemed long until the light of day should come,
When he should go to combat with Cucullin.
Lewy went down that night to address Cucullin.
They met in Glen Faerbay. Each one of them
Welcomed the other. “I have come,” said Lewy,
“To tell thee of my brother, Laeriny,
Who comes to meet thee at the ford to-morrow.
He is a youth, young and unwise and weak
And insolent and vain. And for this reason
It is that Maev has put him to this combat:—
That when thou shalt have slain him, I may go
To avenge my brother. I will never go
Until the Breast of Doom, because he goes
In violation of my truth and honour.
Nevertheless, because of the great friendship
Between thyself and me, my friend Cucullin,
Slay not my brother.” In the early morn,
At the red-glorious light of rising-time,
Laeriny fared unto the battle-ford,
To meet Cucullin. To the battle-heroes
And warriors of that camp it seemed unworthy
To go to watch that combat: only women
And lads and maidens went. Cucullin came
Then to the ford: to him it seemed unworthy
To bring his weapons. He met Laeriny.
He took from Laeriny his battle-weapons
Out of his hands, as one would take play-weapons
Out of the hands of a young child. He rubbed
And bruised him ’twixt his own hands, then, and shook him,
And hurled him from the mid-part of the ford
To the green bank; and he was borne away
Fainting and bruised up to the door of the tent
Of his brother Lewy. He was the only man
Who had retained his life after a combat
Fought with Cucullin on that Táin; and never
From that day till his death was Laeriny
Without the grief of illness, or without
Trouble of chest, or without being borne
On horseback in his sickness and his pain.
When Maev was told of that escape, annoyance
Grew in her, for that her keen plan had failed;
And her mind tortured her because not yet
Had she found one to overthrow Cucullin.
That night she sent for all the kings and princes
Who were upon that hosting; and she said:
“Whom shall we now send forth to assail this youth?
There is none other of his friends and comrades
Who will consent to violate his bond.”
Whereat all said: “Except his friends and comrades,
Throughout the expanse of Erin of wide compass
We know of none able for that hard combat,
Except two men alone; and, of these, one
Is Cooroi son of Dawra, who hath reddened
His sword in distant lands; and one is Lōk
The son of Emonis, who years ago
Was taught in Scawtha’s land, and who, even like
Faerdeeah son of Daman son of Dawra,
Owns a tough conganess, a horn-skin armour,
The gift of Scawtha ere he left her land;
And neither sword nor spear will pierce that armour.”
Now there was present in the tent a man
Of Cooroi’s folk from the far-off south-west,
Who said: “Great Cooroi will not come. To him,
Truly, it seems enough to have sent this number
Of his own household folk to help the hosting.”
After that conference, then, and that prime-council,
Maev sent for Lōk the son of Emonis—For
Lōk the Great—who like Cucullin himself
Had been trained up to arms far in the east.
Lōk came; and Maev besought him, promising
Land on Moy Wee equal to Moy Mweerhevna,
An outfit for twelve men of each right hue,
A chariot costing seven powerful bondmaids,
And Findabair to be his own one wife.
And he esteemed it mean and unbecoming
To combat with a gillie. “O Maev!” he said,
“I will not go for combat with that youth,
Who is tender, young, and without any beard.
But I have one to meet him, that is, Long
The son of Emonis, my brother. Give
The same rewards to Long. He shall go forth
To meet Cucullin at the ford.” Maev sent,
Therefore, for Long the son of Emonis,
And offered the same gifts and same rewards.
He went next day down to the ford of combat.
Cucullin slew him there; and his folk carried
His body back to his great brother, Lōk.
Then Maev incited Lōk to avenge his brother.
Lōk hesitated still, and was reluctant;
For he esteemed it mean and unbecoming
To combat with a gillie. “O Maev,” he said,
“I may not make that combat till the end
Of seven days from this day.” “’Tis not fitting,”
Maev said, “that we should be without attacking
The hound for all that space. Therefore, each night,
While we are waiting for thy conquering combat,
We will send forth a party of night-hunters
To hunt Cucullin and endanger him;
And so we may, perhaps, arrest this peril.”
That, then, was done. A party of night-hunters
Went forth from Maev each night to hunt Cucullin;
But every night Cucullin slew those hunters.
These were their names: seven Oo-arguses,
Ten Delbaes, seven Conalls, seven Keltars,
Eight Feeacs, seven Anguses, ten Al-yills.
Each of the seven nights a troop was slain.
At the end of the seven nights Maev urgently,
With strong persuasions and hard settings-on,
Again incited Lōk to avenge his brother.
She said: “O Lōk, great son of Emonis,
Truly thou art a targe for mockery
Unto that man who slew thy brother, and still,
By thee unchecked and unopposed, inflicts
Great harm upon our hosts! We deem it certain
That a young, little wildling such as he
Could not withstand the ardour and the power
Of a proved hero like thyself. And yet,
Because by the same warlike nurse ye both
Were taught and trained, it is no shame to thee
To meet him and thereby to avenge thy brother.”
Then Lōk the Great the son of Emonis,
Incited so, consented. He went down
To meet Cucullin and to avenge his brother.
“Come to the upper ford,” said Lōk, “Not here
In this polluted ford where Long has fallen
Will we decide our combat and contention.”
They met in the upper ford; and then began
Between Cucullin son of Sooaltim,
And Lōk the Great the son of Emonis,
Their powerful combat and their strong contention;
And all who watched that combat and contention
Were filled with dread and horror and much fear.
This was the hour and this the point of time
When the More-reega daughter of Ernmas came,
Even as she had sworn that she would come
What time Cucullin should engage a foe
Commensurate with himself in warlike skill.
Forth from the green-grassed Shee-mound, where she dwelt,
She came; and first in form of a lithe eel
Swam down the stream, and round Cucullin’s feet
Wound a close, triple coil. Straightway he fell;
And though with speed, like to the swallow’s speed
Above a pool on a hot summer’s day,
He rose and struck the eel and brake her ribs
Within her, so that she released her hold—
Yet in that point of time wherein he had lain
Prone in the stream, great Lōk had dealt a blow,
Gashing Cucullin’s side; and all the stream
Was reddened with his blood. Again she came,
In semblance of a starved bitch-wolf she came,
Chasing the startled cattle towards the ford,
To overwhelm him there. Cucullin aimed
A stone and struck her eye, and turned the cattle
Hillward; nor had his adversary time
To wound him newly. But again once more
The bitter-vengeful, dread More-reega came,
And, shaped like a red hornless heifer, led
One hundred red and hornless heifers down
To overwhelm Cucullin. Swift he aimed
A stone, and struck one of her hindward legs;
And it brake under her; and then the Bive
Vanished. But while Cucullin had turned round
To cast the stone, great Lōk had dealt a blow
And gashed Cucullin’s second side; and all
The stream was reddened with his flowing blood.
This was the hour and this the moment of time
Wherein Cucullin called to his charioteer,
Namely, to Laeg the son of Ree-angowra,
To send him the Gae Bulg. ’Twas the first time
He e’er had called for it; and ’twas because
Of that tough conganess, the hornskin armour,
Which great Lōk wore when fighting with a man,
That he now called for that dread spear of Scawtha.
And thus, indeed, was that dread spear of Scawtha:
It would be floated down the stream, and caught
And cast by the toes of the foot: a one-spear wound
It made on entering a man; but thirty
Sharp-wounding heads it had, which would spread out
Within the man. The spear was floated down
Swiftly by Laeg the son of Ree-angowra.
Cucullin caught it with the toes of his foot,
And cast it; and it pierced the conganess,
And pierced Lōk’s heart within his breast. Lōk cried:
“I ask one warrior-boon from thee, Cucullin.”
“What boon?” Cucullin said. “’Tis no request
For mercy or for safety,” Lōk said: “merely
Retreat from me one backward pace, that now
It may be forward, eastward, that I fall,
Not backward, westward, toward the men of Erin;
And so no man of them will say of me
That it was in retreat and flight and rout
That I fell by thee here; for I now fall
By the Gae Bulg.” “I will indeed retreat,”
Cucullin said, “for warrior-like the boon is
Which thou dost ask.” And he retreated then
One backward pace, and Lōk the Great fell forward
Upon his face there in that upper ford;
And the dark mists of death encompassed him.
Since that same hour wherein Lōk fell, Ath Tray,
“Ford of the Foot,” that is, “the Foot’s Retreat,”
Has been the name upon that ford of combat,
In which Lōk fell, in low Cann Teera More.

That day a dark dejection visited
Cucullin, for that he was all alone
Defending Ulster; and extreme fatigue,
And the sharp anguish of those bleeding wounds
Oppressed his spirit; and he said to Laeg:
“Arise from me, strong Laeg of the hosts: complain
For me in very-red Avvin. Say for me
That I am wearied each day in the battle,
And now am wounded and bathed o’er with blood.
A wound is in my right side; and a wound
Is in my left side. Say to kindly Conor
That the dear son of Dectora has changed
His form indeed, being wearied, wounded, now.
Though he should come to me, ’twere not too soon.
I am alone before the flocks and herds.
I am in evil: I am not in good.
I am alone on many fords, and now
Very rough wounding has befallen me.
No friend arrives to fight for me or help me,
Except the charioteer of my one chariot.
Were but a few to arrive, we still might fight.
There is not music in one horn alone;
But from a number of horns of differing sound
You get sweet music. This is an old word:
You get no flaming from one single stick;
But two or three will cause the torch to flame.
The portion for a host cannot be seethed
On one fork only. I am here alone
Fronting Maev’s hosts down at Cann Teera More.
Lōk son of Emonis has torn my loins.
The bitter-vengeful Bive came in three shapes.
Lōk son of Emonis wounded my liver.
Laeg sent the spear of Scawtha down the stream.
Its course was quick. I hurled the dreadful spear,
Whereby fell Lōk the son of Emonis.
What ails the Ultonians that they give not battle
To Al-yill and the daughter of Yōhee Fayla?
Seeing that I am now in pain, disabled,
Wounded, and bathed with blood, say unto them,
That they must now come after their own Táin.
The sons of Mahga have borne off their kine,
And made division of the kine amongst them.
Joyful the Bive before the hosts of Al-yill!
Mournful the cries of woe on Moy Mweerhevna!
Let Conor now come forth with his rangéd hosts.
Rise, now, O Laeg: go unto very-red Avvin.”

Then Laeg arose; but first he had gathered moss
And healing herbs, and made soft pads and wisps,
And dressed Cucullin’s wounds, staunching the blood.
Rising, he left his lord; and with all speed
He fared to sword-red Avvin. But his words
Were as a warning to the dead. Not yet
Might the Ultonians rise from their long Kesh;
And Laeg turned back to his own lord again.

Before good Laeg returned, and while Cucullin
Lay all alone in the deep-hiding woods,
The great More-reega daughter of Ernmas came,
Appearing like some agéd wrinkled crone
Milking her cow. And this was why she came:—
That she might win her healing from Cucullin.
For so it was, he having wounded her,
Only through him might she again be whole.
And the cow had three teats. Cucullin thirsted,
And begged one draught of milk to assuage his thirst.
She gave him all the milking of one teat.
He drank it, and cried out in thankfulness:
“Health to the giver!” And the Great Queen’s eye
Thereby was healed. Again he begged a draught:
Again she gave the milking of one teat;
And he cried: “Joy and health unto the giver!”
And a third time he begged of her a draught,
She gave the yield of the third teat; and then
Cucullin cried: “The blessings of all beings,
Of gods and no-gods—be upon thy head,
O woman who hast succoured me!” Thereby
Was the More-reega healed of all her wounds.
The crone and cow had vanished; and Cucullin,
Gazing bewildered, saw one carrion-bird,
Red-mouthed, upon the bough beside him there,
Who spake and said: “Remember thy great boast,
That thou wouldst never heal me of my wounds!”
And then Cucullin knew her; and in wrath
He answered: “Had I known that it was thou,
Thou most abhorréd and detested Queen,
Thou drinker of men’s blood, grinder of bones,
Wild shrieker-out for pale-lipped carcasses,
Dispenser of confusion, famine, woe,
I ne’er had healed thee,—nay though I had died
Of thirst and want, I had not healed thy wounds.”
Then the More-reega vanished and went back
To the far, hollow Shee-mound where she dwelt.

On Maev the daughter of Yōhee Fayla now
Was joyfulness and triumph, seeing that now
Cucullin, wounded, was laid low. She now,
Taking a third part of her hosts, fared north
To waste the lands of Crithny and of Ulster,
E’en as she swore to waste them. She fared north
Along the road of Meedlougher. She put
A cloud of red-brown fire, heavy, widespread,
Above the lands of Ulster and of Crithny;
And, for the folk of Ulster and of Crithny,
There was no ill she did not do to them
With liveliness. She took their sons and wives,
Their steeds and flocks of mares, their troops of kine,
Their herds of every sort of grazing kine,
Their raiment, and bright silver and bright gold.
And she not only burned unto the grass
Their strongly timbered houses, wide and high;
But their high, fortified green mounds, whereon
Those houses were, she swiftly levelled down,
So that their glens and trenches were filled up
After her track. “When Conor son of Fahtna
Hears of our deeds,” Maev said, “they unto him
Will cause heart-sickness, waste of flesh, cheek-whitening,
So that no meat will please him, and no quiet,
Sweet sleep will go to him; but he will be
Tortured in mind, dark-spirited.”
Howbeit,
Maev on that expedition dared not go
To Avvin Maha, or to any doon
Where Ulster warriors lay, pained by their Kesh,
The curse of Maha; for if one should wound
A warrior in that Kesh, that Kesh would leap
Straight to that wounder. Therefore, she fared north
Through Dalriada to the Northern Sea,
To ever-bright Dunseverick, where dwelt
Findmore the Great, the warrior-wife of Keltar
The son of Oo-hider. Before the door
Of ever-bright Dunseverick she gave
Fierce battle to Findmore, and slew Findmore
The wife of Keltar; and she pillaged all
That famous doon; and she took fifty women
Out of that doon as captives. Then she turned
Southward toward Cooley once again. Each ford
Which Maev upon that expedition passed
Was thenceforth called Ath Vaeva. Each night-stead
Whereon her tent was pitched at night was thenceforth
Called Poopal Vaeva. Each place where she set
Her horse-switch, when she took her rest, was thenceforth
Called Billi Vaeva. So she came again
Southward to Al-yill; and they met at Faughard.
While Maev upon that vigorous expedition
Was spoiling so all Ulster and all Crithny
Unhindered, Laeg the son of Ree-angowra
Had come again from sword-red Avvin Maha
Unto his lord, telling him that his message
Had been but as a message to the dead.
Cucullin then from his low sick-man’s bed
Had risen, though feeble; and his wounds were dressed
Freshly with wisps and moss; and he went forth
Again to fend his land, the land of Cooley.
Then he saw something: he saw sixty men
Of Maev’s and Al-yill’s household; and a bratt
Folded round each; and the dark Donn of Cooley—
With his two eyes burning like crooan-red,
And gold on his high horns, and with fifty heifers
Of his own heifers—running and being driven
Before the men, after his being taken
In Glen Samaska in Slieve Gullion. Then
Cucullin went to them. “What is thy name?”
He said to their chief man, who answered him:
“One who nor fears nor loves thee, namely Boi
The son of Bawn, of the especial folk
Of Al-yill and of Maev.” “This spear at Boi!”
Cucullin said; and hurled at him the spear,
Which pierced the shield above his breast, and pierced
The heart within his breast, so that Boi fell.
Howbeit, in the little space of time
Wherein Cucullin and Boi son of Bawn
Exchanged their words and spears, the Donn of Cooley
With skill and swiftness was brought off from them,
And driven to the camp and the encampment
Of Maev and Al-yill and the men of Erin;
So that, indeed, that driving of the bull,
The Donn of Cooley, was the worst dishonour
And baffling and befooling, that was ever
Put on Cucullin on that Táin and hosting.

Then Maev and Al-yill and the hosts of Erin,
Having the bull, fared south; and at the place,
Since called the Bressla More on Moy Mweerhevna,
They made their camp at night, having first sent
Their mighty prey in captives and in kine,
And the great bull, the wondrous Donn of Cooley,
Yet further south, even to Cleer Bo Ulla,
For shelter and for safety. And Cucullin
Against the high, green grave-hill in the Larguey,
Exceeding near to the great hosts of Erin,
Took up his post; and his own charioteer,
Laeg son of Ree-angowra, kindled there
His fire at eve that night. Cucullin, gazing
Out from himself, perceived the fiery shining
Of their clean-golden lance-heads and war-weapons
Above the heads of the Four Fifths of Erin
At falling of the eve that night. He, seeing
Thus the great number of his enemies
And the huge number of his foemen—knowing
Too that his wounds were yet unhealed and yet
He was but weak and feeble—was o’erborne
By rage of anger. He took up his sword,
And his two spears and shield; and shook his shield,
And brandished his two spears, and whirled his sword.
And from his throat he gave his hero-cry,
So that the Bannanahs and Boccanahs,
And the Glen-folk and Spirits of the Air,
Answered him for the horror of that cry,
Which thus he raised above him. And the Nowin,
That is to say, the Bive, went through the hosts,
So that the Four Great Fifths of Erin fell
To weapon-trembling; and one hundred warriors
Of the good warriors of the men of Erin
Died of heart-horror ’midst of their camp that night.

BOOK XI