Chapter VIII: Book VI

Now, there was in the tent with them that night,
Amidst the warriors and the noble chiefs,
A warrior of the men of Domnann, namely,
Faerdeeah son of Daman son of Dawra,
A young, choice warrior of the men of Domnann,
From Irrus Domnann in the far-off west;
And while all quaffed still in that kingly tent
Beside Ath Gowla, and discoursed and wondered,
Wondering at those boy-deeds, Faerdeeah said:
“O King and Queen,” he said, “I, if ye will,
Will tell you all the tale and history
How that Cucullin was trained up to arms
And wondrous deeds and feats of warlike skill
By Scawtha in the East; for I can tell it,
Having been there with him myself; and that
Which I saw not myself my dear companion,
Cucullin, hath narrated to me. Truly,
If ye shall hear this tale, when ye have heard it,
Ye will no longer wonder at yon deed,
Namely, his coming to this boundary,
And setting yon pronged pole into the mere,
And slaying those who ever went before you
In every war and hosting.” Al-yill said:
“Good, O Faerdeeah, tell us, then, that tale.”
Whereon Faerdeeah told his tale in order,
And in progression, and with oratory
And choice and learned words.
O men (said he)
Ye have heard tell of the restraint and rule
And excellent lordship found in Avvin Maha
Under the admirable, able king,
Conor the son of Fahtna, in whose time
Concord and quietness and peaceful pleasure,
With plenteous yield from forest, field, and ocean,
Have stayed with the Ultonians. Ye have heard
Of the great dignity and rank and plenty
In the king’s house in Avvin. That king’s house,
The long Creev Roe of Conor, was designed
After the likeness of the Meadhall House
In Tara. Nine score feet and fifteen feet
Its length from door to door; and it is built
Of fitted planks of rich, red yew, and roofed
With planks of yew thatched o’er with lapping shingles.
Inside the house from fire-hearth unto wall
There are nine imdas; and of these each pillar
Of bronze has thrice ten feet in height, and each
Partition is of rich, red boards of yew.
Within the chief place in that house is placed
The imda of Conor; and round about it stand
Pillars of bronze with silvern capitals;
And on each capital a bird of gold
Perches; and flashing gems of carbuncle
They are which serve for the birds’ eyes; and so
These flash that in that house the day and night
Seem of like brightness. A tall, narrow band
Of silver reaches from above the king
Up toward the roof-tree of the kingly house
And what time Conor with his royal wand
Strikes the resounding silver, all the men
Of Ulster become silent, so that even
A needle falling on the vast house-floor
Is heard, because of the great hush and silence
Wherein men are through reverence for him.
Ranged
About this imda are the twelve tall imdas
Of the twelve chariot-chiefs of Ulster. Yea,
And all the valiant warriors of the land
Of Ulster find a place in the Creev Roe
At feasting. Many noble gatherings
And many wonderful and varied pastimes
Are there; and nightly, when the twilight falls,
The I-arn Gool, that wondrous cask, is filled
With heart-enlivening wine. One hundred brewings:
That is the measure that is poured at eve
Into the Gool: that is the goodly measure
Which satisfies the Ulster men assembled
At the one time. And when the night descends,
And the tall, kingly candle of the house
Is lighted, then from door to door are stretched
Long ropes on which the chariot-chiefs of Ulster
Perform with skill. Three other feats of skill
Those chiefs perform as well:—the apple-feat,
The sword-edge feat, the dart-feat. Well ye know
The names of those renownéd chariot-chiefs,
As Conall Carna son of Avver-guin,
And Laery the Victorious son of Connud,
And mighty Keltar son of Oo-hider;
But, in the happiest time, the Sons of Usna,
Since slain, were there; and Fergus son of Roy
Was there, the noblest chief of all; and there
Were Duffa Dael and Cormac son of Conor.
They three are absent now; but Avvin yet
Is wonderful and splendid. So at night
The chariot-chiefs perform their feats of skill
In the great house; and, as the night goes on,
The folk of music and of art and verse
Arise and sound their stringed melodious harps
And their bright timpans; and they chant aloud
The boughs of genealogy and boughs
Of Ulster kinship; and they sing their songs
Of skilful harmony, until sweet sleep
Falls on the hosts, and all the house is still.
Now, when Cucullin had fulfilled from birth
His fifteen years, in feats and in swift skill
He went beyond all others of his time;
And greatly did the Ulster women love him
For his swift skill and for his nimble leap,
For his sweet utterance, and for the beauty
Of his fresh face, and for his ardent looks,
And for his wisdom. Many were his gifts;
For—saving when his battle-rage flamed high—
He had the gift of wisdom and of reason:
He had a wondrous gift for feats of skill:
He had a gift for booanbac and feehill:
He had the gift of estimating numbers:
He had the druid’s gift of prophecy:
He had the gift of shape in face and form.
Three faults alone he had. He was too young;
And older warriors hailing from strange lands
Would taunt him for his ungrown beard. Besides,
He was too daring and too beautiful.
The men of Ulster then deliberated
About Cucullin; for they held in mind
Great Cathbad’s prophecy; and they were troubled,
Being in great fear that their beloved Cucullin
Would perish from them early; and they wished
To give a wife to him, that he might leave
A son. They knew that only from himself
Could such another as himself gain life.
Thereafter Conor sent nine messengers
Into each Fifth of the Five Fifths of Erin,
To see whether in any royal doon
Or chieftain’s doon in Erin they could find
The daughter of a king or of a chieftain
Or of a wealthy brewy, whom Cucullin
Might choose to woo. The messengers returned,
But had not found a maiden whom Cucullin
Could choose to woo. Beyond the white-bright Boyne,
Beyond the bounds of Ulster, in the plain
Of rich Loolohta Loha, nigh the sea,
Cucullin knew a maiden whom he loved
And chose to woo. And this, indeed, was Emer,
A daughter of the wily Forgall Mona,
The lordly, wealthy brewy, who is nephew
To Tethra, king of the Fomorians. Her
Alone, of all the maidens of wide Erin,
Cucullin chose to visit and to woo.
For she had the six gifts:—the gift of beauty,
The gift of a sweet voice, the gift of utterance,
The gift of needlework, the gift of wisdom,
The gift of chastity. Cucullin said
He would woo none but one who should be equal
Unto himself in lineage and in age,
In beauty and in skill, and who should be
The best hand-worker of the maids of Erin.
And only Emer, daughter of Forgall Mona,
Had this description. Therefore her alone
Cucullin chose to woo.
In bright array
Cucullin travelled south to visit Emer
And show to her his beauty. For at first
He called unto his own good charioteer,
Laeg son of Reeangowra, who was brother
To the good charioteer of Conor, namely,
To Ivor son of Reeangowra. “Now,
My good friend Laeg,” Cucullin said, “bring up
My own two steeds. Bring up the Leea Maha,
Who rose from out the lake in wild Slieve Foo-id,
So that I cast my arms about his neck
And wrestled with him, making him my own.
Bring up the black Doo Sanglenn, whom I found
In that dark lake I named him after. Bring
My chariot which no steeds of all the steeds
Of Ulster may o’ertake, it being drawn
By those two steeds I speak of.” Laeg brought up
The steeds, and he prepared the chariot. Then
In festive raiment and in bright array
Cucullin travelled south to visit Emer
And show to her his beauty.
On a day
In rich Loolohta Loha, Emer came
Out on her playing-field, outside the doon;
And round her were her foster-sisters, daughters
Of lords of land who lived around the doon
Of Forgall. On the bench of gatherings
Beside the doon these sat; and they were learning
Rich needlework and fair, choice handiwork
From Emer. As they sat upon the bench,
The maidens heard somewhat approaching them.
They heard the rapid thuds of hooves of steeds,
The creaking of a chariot, the quick cracks
Of leathern straps, the grinding of swift wheels,
The clang of weapons. Emer spake to them.
“Let one of you rise up,” said she, “and see
Who is’t that through the land rides towards us so.”
Then Feeal daughter of Forgall rose and said:
“I see two steeds equal in size and beauty
And bounding speed; and they are broad of brow
And slender-mouthed, with crispéd manes and tails,
And heads uplifted haughtily. The steed
Against the chariot’s right pole is dark grey,
And he looks fierce and wild. The rock-strewn turf
Flames underneath his four hard hooves. A flock
Of swift birds follows. While he takes his course
Along the track there darts from him a flash
Of fiery breath, and bright-red sparkling fire
Streams from his curbéd jaws. The second steed
Is black as is the dael; and beautiful
He looks, as easily he bounds along,
Following the levels of the green mid-glen
And the cleared river-mead. Behind I see
A chariot of fine wood and woven osiers,
Whereto are white bronze wheels, and a long pole
Of white bright silver set with white findrinny.
Its yoke is high, arched, and o’erlaid with gold.
The plaited reins are yellow. The hind poles
Are straight as are two daggers. On the seat
Sits a fresh, ardent youth, most beautiful
Of all the youths of Erin. Round him falls
A crimson and five-folded fooan, held
By a gold, graven brooch, against the which
His white breast heaves, beating full strokes. The layna
He wears is white, and has a pure, white hood
All interwoven red with flaming gold.
Two blue-white, blood-red cheeks breathe fire and flame.
Darker than is a winter night is each
Of his two eyebrows. Underneath them flash
Seven red dragon-gems within the midst
Of each of his two eyes. I think, indeed,
A ray of love burns in his look. A sword,
Long and gold-hilted, rests on his two thighs.
His spear is bound fast to the chariot-frame.
Upon his shoulders hangs his crimson shield,
All silver-rimmed and decked with beasts of gold.
And now he leaps the hero’s salmon-leap;
And many other wondrous feats he shows,
That chariot-chief of the distinguished chariot.
In front of him there is a charioteer,
A man tall, stooping, slender, freckled greatly,
With very curly, gold-red hair confined
About his brow by a findrinny circlet,
And at his neck by cups of shining gold.
He wears a small, short cloak with openings
At his two elbows. In his hand he bears
A red-gold rod for ruling of the steeds.”
Thus Feeal daughter of Forgall spake. Ere long
Cucullin came upon the playing-field
Wherein the maidens were. He greeted them;
And Emer lifted up her sweet, fair face,
And recognized Cucullin. Then she said:
“May Dess make smooth thy travelling-way before thee.”
He answered: “May all here be safe from harm!”
“Whence hast thou come?” she asked. And he replied,
Speaking in learnéd language: “I have come
From the resounding, smooth-bright City of Twins.”
“Where did you sleep?” she asked. “We slept,” he said,
“Within the house of him who tends the kine
Of the green plain of Tethra.” “In that house
What was your food?” she asked. He answered her:
“The Ruining of a Chariot there was cooked
To be our food.” “And what way did ye come?”
She asked. “Betwixt two Hard ones of the Forest,”
He said. “By which way did ye travel then?”
She further asked. He said. “Not hard to tell;
Athwart the thick-green Covering-Veil of Sea,
O’er the Great Secret of the men of Deea,
Across the Foam of the Two Steeds of Avvin,
Across the Garden of the Red More-reega,
Over the back of the Great Sow, and down
The Glen of Dam, and down the trodden road
Between the God and his great Druid-Seer;
Then o’er the Marrow of the Woman Fedelm,
Between the Boar and his own Dam; and then
Over the Washing of the Steeds of Deea,
Between the King of Ahna and his Servant,
O’er the four-cornered Manncool, o’er Great Crime;
And, lastly, o’er the Remnants of the Banquet,
Unto these fields of Loo the son of Ethlenn,
Namely, Loolotha Loha. Here I greet
The daughters of the nephew of great Tethra,
The king of the Fomorians.—And for thee,
O maiden, what is the account of thee?”
Cucullin asked. “It is not hard to tell,”
The maiden said, “for I am called indeed
The high and well-walled Tara among women;
The unattainable, fair, glittering star
Of chastity; the secret jewelled worm,
Deep in a well; the flame of fire; the road
Which none may enter.—For around me here
Are champions and strong men that follow me,
Guarding me always that I be not taken
Without their knowledge, or great Forgall’s will.”
“Who are the champions who thus follow thee,
O maiden?” said Cucullin. Emer said:
“Two Looees, and three Looaths, and Lath Gobla
The son of Tethra; Tuath and Trescath too;
Brian and Balor; Bas the son of Omna;
Eight Connlas; and my brother Conn the son
Of Forgall. Every separate man of them
Has in himself the vigour of one hundred,
Besides the feats of nine. Forgall alone
Is such that it were hard indeed to tell
His many powers. He is stronger far
Than any bondman; and more learned far
Than any druid; of more sharp perception
Than any poet. More than all the feats
Of skill that thou mayst own would not suffice
For fighting against Forgall. Great the deeds
Of valour that have been narrated of him.”
“Why dost thou not account me as the match
Of these strong men, O maiden?” said Cucullin.
“Why should I not account thee so,” said Emer,
“If deeds like theirs have been recounted of thee?”
“Maiden, I swear,” Cucullin said, “my deeds
Shall be recounted amidst glorious deeds
Of battle-heroes.” “What then, is thy strength?”
The maiden asked. “It is not hard to tell,”
He said; “when I am weak in fight, I fend
For twenty; and the third part of my strength
Suffices thirty. I alone give combat
To forty; and the mention of my name
Protects one hundred. Fords and battle-fields
Are shunned for dread of me; and multitudes
And hosts of arméd men flee far away
Through terror of my look and face alone.”
“Those are good fights for a young, tender lad,”
The maiden said; “but thou hast not as yet
Attained the strength of chariot-chiefs.” “O maiden,”
Cucullin said, “if I have so attained,
It is not strange; for not as a churl rears
His child between the flagstone and the hearth
Have I been reared by my kind guardian, Conor.
I have been reared among the learnéd men,
Among the druids and among the poets,
Among the chieftains and the battle-champions,
Among the jesters, harpers, and musicians,
Among the brewies and rich lords of land,
Of our dear realm of Ulster; and by them
I have been given their manners and their gifts.”
“Who, then, have brought thee up to all these deeds
Whereof thou vauntest?” Emer said. He answered:
“It is not hard to tell. Sweet-worded Shenca
Has taught me, so that I am wise in judgment
And not forgetful. Blai, the lord of lands
Of Tara in the Ards of Ulster, took me
Because of the close kinship of his race:
So that I got my due of wealth with him,
And learnt the way to entertain the men
Of Ulster, for the week of entertainment,
Together with their king, red-sworded Conor;
And for that week to settle all their gifts
And spoils, and aid them in each fine and eric,
And in their honour. While I yet was small,
And ere through woful cause he left our land,
The noble Fergus fostered me. From him
I learnt to slay great warriors through the strength
Of valour: yea, by valour and by prowess
I guard our border against foreign foes—
Being a bush of shelter to the poor,
And a protecting rampart to the wealthy.
I comfort each poor wight, and slay the strong,
All through the kindly fosterage of Fergus.
Then to the knee of Avver-guin I came,
The skilful poet and father of Conall Carna,
So that I learnt the way to praise a king
For any excellency that he has;
And the sweet Finncaem, mother of Conall Carna,
Cared for me kindly, that victorious Conall
Might thus become my foster-brother. Cathbad,
The good, renownéd druid, taught me then,
For the dear sake of Dectora, my mother—
Making me skilful in druidic arts,
And learnéd in the excellence of knowledge.
Yea, all the men of Ulster equally
Have brought me up, both kings and kingly poets,
Both chariot-chiefs and their good charioteers;
So that I am the loved one of the host
And multitude; and for them all I fight,
And for the honour of them all. Moreover,
O maiden, one amongst the bright Immortals,
Namely, great Loo, long-handed son of Ethlenn,
Hath noticed me; and there will come a day
When he will help me. So, for thee, O maiden,”
Cucullin asked, “say how hast thou been reared
Here in Loolohta Loha?” Emer said:
“It is not hard to tell. I have been reared
In antique virtues and in fine behaviour,
In noble manners, in a queenly carriage,
In truth, in courtesy, in chastity;
So that to me there is attributed
Each noble quality which men may find
Amongst the hosts of women.” He replied:
“Good are these virtues verily. Why, then,
O maiden, should it not be right and fit
For us two to be one? I never yet
Have found a maiden able to converse
In this wise at a meeting.” Emer said:
“A question first. Hast thou a wife?” “Not so,”
Cucullin answered. Emer spake again,
And said: “This thing would not become me well,
I thus to go unto a man, ere goes
My elder sister Feeal daughter of Forgall,
Whom thou seest near me here. She is distinguished
For wondrous handiwork.” “Nay,” said Cucullin,
“It is not she whom I have loved.” Just then
Cucullin saw the two breasts of the maiden
Athwart her layna’s opening. Then he said:
“Fair is this plain, the Plain of the Noble Yoke.”
And Emer, understanding, answered him:
“None comes unto this plain but him who slays
As many as one hundred at each ford
Between the Ford of Skenn-menn at Ollbinny
And Banquin Airked where the swift Brae breaks
The brow of Fedelm, fleeing wife of Nahtan.”
“Fair is this plain, the Plain of the Noble Yoke,”
Cucullin said; and Emer answered him:
“None comes unto this plain but him who slays
Thrice nine men at one blow, and with such skill
As to save one man ’midst each nine of them.”
“Fair is this plain, the Plain of the Noble Yoke,”
Cucullin said; and Emer answered him:
“None comes unto this plain but him who slays
Benn Sooan son of Rossmelc, from the end
Of summer till the opening of the spring,
And from the opening spring until May-day,
And from May-day until full winter falls.”
Cucullin said: “’Tis said. It shall be done.”
“It is accepted,” Emer said. And so
Those two were plighted. When those noble words
Had thus been said, Cucullin moved from her,
Holding no longer converse.
O’er Moy Bray
He rode to northward. Silently he rode
Awhile, but in a while his charioteer,
Namely, good Laeg, aweary of the silence,
Said to him: “Good, now, Cucuc, those strange words
And unknown names the which I heard thee use—Thee
and the maiden as ye talked together—
What did ye mean to say by them?” Cucullin
Replied: “Dost thou not know, good Master Laeg,
How that I woo that maiden? We concealed
The sense of our discourse, enfolding it
In learnéd terms of scholars and of poets,
That her companions who were round her there
Might not have understanding of it. Forgall,
Were he aware I wooed her, would prevent
Our meeting thus for converse.” Then Cucullin
Began at the beginning of that talk
Which he had held with Emer. He explained
Its terms to Laeg, who listened. So with tales
And antique lore he shortened and made joyful
The tedious way; and ever north they travelled.
“Well, first of all,” said he, “I said I came
From the resounding, smooth-bright City of Twins.
That is great Avvin Maha. Well thou knowest
The story of Maha, wave-swift wife of Crunniuc,
Who raced the steeds of the High-king of Ulster,
And at the goal bore twins, from whom men named
The city raised there. Next, I said we slept
Within the house of him who tends the kine
Of the Green Plain of Tethra. That is Roncu,
King Conor’s fisherman. He with his line
Catches his fish; and poets call the fishes
The kine of the green sea. “The Plain of Tethra,”
That is the sea; for Tethra is a king
Above the fierce Fomorians who range
The seas in search of plunder. Guileful Forgall
Is sister’s son to him. We ate, I said,
The Ruining of a Chariot. Now, thereby,
I meant that little foal which in that house
Was killed and cooked for us. Thou dost remember
How for three nomads there we were detained,
Having partaken of it. For ’tis gass
On every chariot that a man should mount it
For three whole nomads, when he hath partaken
Of flesh of steeds; because the steed it is
Which doth bear up the chariot. After that,
I said, betwixt two Hard Ones of the Forest
We came: I meant Slieve Gullion and Slieve Foo-id.
We came through Orkill, the dark wood which fills
The space between them. Then, I said, we rode
Athwart the thick-green Covering-Veil of Sea;
That is green Moy Mweerhevna, where we passed
My own dear doon, Doon Dalgan. In old days
A dark enchanted sea covered that plain—
A sea so dense that warriors dressed in arms
Might rest upon its billows—till the Dagda,
Distinguished God o’er the fruit-bearing earth,
Arriving with his Club of Storm and Tempest,
Conjured it; and it dried and left the plain
For the sweet grass to grow on. Then, I said,
We passed the Secret of the Men of Deea;
And that is Grellah Dollud. On that moor
In old, old days—ere came the Sons of Mil—
The Thoo-aha Dae Danann, Men of Deea,
Assembled secretly; and there they planned
That battle of Moy Twirra, where at last
They freed themselves from the hard rent and tribute,
That the Fomorians, the strong Ocean-rangers,
Exacted from them year by year. Good, then,
Over the Foam of the two Steeds of Avvin,
I said: I meant the river Oo-anub,
The Foaming One. Within the hollow Mound
Of Ercmon, by the Thoo-aha Dae Danann,
Two steeds were reared—reared for a famous king
Then ruling in great Avvin. When the steeds
Were freed from out the mound, a glorious stream
Broke after them; and it was white with foam;
And foam o’erspread the country. Thence is named
White Oo-anub, that water which we forded.
Across the Garden of the Red More-reega,
We came, I said; and that is Oughter Netmon.
The Dagda gave that height to the More-reega,
To the great horror-breathing Queen, the quaffer
Of men’s red blood, inciter by her cries
To furious, blood-red battle. In that place
She made her herb-field, and there dwelt. Well, then,
Over the Back of the Great Sow we climbed,
I said: I meant Drum Bray; for when from Spain
Our ancestors, the noble sons of Mil,
Arrived against these shores, on every hill
And every ridge the Thoo-aha Dae Danann,
By powerful spells, impressed the loathly shape
Of a long-sided sow. So by their spells,
Breeding dislike and dread, they hoped to drive
The sons of Mil from off their shores. And then,
Down through the Glen of Dam—that is Glen Bray—
I said we came; and down the trodden road
Between the God and his great Druid-seer.
The God I meant is Angus Ōg, bright son
Of the great Dagda; and his habitation
Is, as thou knowest, in his lordly Broo,
Beside the white-bright Boyne. West of the Broo
One sees the Shee of Brassil, who is Druid
And Seer to Angus; and the great South Road
Passes between the two. And now we crossed,
I said, the Marrow of the Woman Fedelm:
That is the reach of the bright river Boyne
Betwixt the river Thromma and the Inver,
Where the Boyne mingles with the sea. And then—
But now (Faerdeeah said), to tell the tale
Of all those names upon the river Boyne,
Which then Cucullin told; and all the tales
He told besides of famous forts and doons
South of the Boyne; and the long tale he told
Of beautiful, sweet women who abide
On a large plain beneath the sea and give
Gold urns to those who visit them,—to tell
These at this time would surely weary you.
Laeg asked Cucullin: “Those strange, darksome words
The maiden spake at parting, what were they?”
Cucullin answered: “When I said to her,
‘Fair is this plain, the Plain of the Noble Yoke,’
’Twas not Moy Bray, good Laeg, that thus I praised.
It was the maiden’s shape. I saw the yoke
Of her two breasts athwart the opening
Of her fair layna; and of them I spoke
Those words; and when she answered me, she meant
She is so strictly guarded that no man
May come unto that plain, but him who slays
As many as one hundred at each ford
Between Ollbinni and the Boyne. No man
May come unto that Plain but him who leaps
The hero’s salmon-leap o’er the three ramparts
That fortify the doon; and who—that done—
Meets her three brothers, Ibbur, Skibbur, and Catt,
And slays the eight each brother has with him;
But in such wise that not a blow may reach
Or hurt those brothers. Finally, she said,
In way of prophecy, that I shall fight
Incessantly and all alone against
Great odds, from Sowin unto Balt-thana,
Ere I shall find my time to pass the Boyne
And journey south to win her. So good Laeg,
Thou seest now all that I must needs perform
Ere I can wed the maid.” Cucullin so
Went driving on his way. In Avvin Maha,
His cheerful travelling done, he slept that night.

BOOK VII