{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14391/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14391","id":"gutenberg_14391","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14391","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Cattle stealing -- Fiction","Cuchulain (Legendary character) -- Fiction","Epic literature, Irish -- Translations into English","Heroes -- Ulster (Northern Ireland and Ireland) -- Legends","Mythology, Celtic -- Ulster (Northern Ireland and Ireland)","Tales -- Ulster (Northern Ireland and Ireland)","Tales, Medieval -- Translations into English"],"text":"THE CATTLE-RAID OF CUALNGE (TAIN BO CUAILNGE)\n\nAn Old Irish Prose-Epic\n\nTranslated for the first time from Leabhar na h-Uidhri\nand the Yellow Book of Lecan by\n\nL. WINIFRED FARADAY, M. A.\n\nLondon\n\nPublished by David Nutt\nAt the Sign of the Phoenix\nLong Acre\n\n1904\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nINTRODUCTION\nTHE CATTLE-RAID OF CUALNGE (from Leabhar na h-Uidhri)\n    Cuchulainn's Boyish Deeds\n    The Death of Fraech\n    The Death of Orlam\n    The Death of the Meic Garach\n    The Death of the Squirrel\n    The Death of Lethan\n    The Death of Lochu\n    The Harrying of Cualnge (first version)\n    The Harrying of Cualnge (second version)\n    Mac Roth's Embassy\n    The Death of Etarcomol\n    The Death of Nadcrantail\n    The Finding of the Bull\n    The Death of Redg\n    The Meeting of Cuchulainn and Findabair\n    The Combat of Munremar and Curoi\n    The Death of the Boys (first version)\n    The Woman-fight of Rochad\n    The Death of the Princes\n    The Death of Cur\n    The Number of the Feats\n    The Death of Ferbaeth\n    The Combat of Larine Mac Nois\n    The Conversation of the Morrigan with Cuchulainn\n    The Death of Long Mac Emonis\n    The Healing of the Morrigan\n    The Coming of Lug Mac Ethlend\n    The Death of the Boys (second version)\n    The Arming of Cuchulainn\nCONTINUATION (from the Yellow Book of Lecan)\n    The Combat of Fer Diad and Cuchulainn\n    The Long Warning of Sualtaim\n    The Muster of the Ulstermen\n    The Vision of Dubthach\n    The March of the Companies\n    The Muster of the Men of Ireland\n    The Battle on Garach and Irgarach\n    The Meeting of the Bulls\n    The Peace\n\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nThe Cattle-Raid of Cualnge [Note: Pronounce _Cooley_] is the chief\nstory belonging to the heroic cycle of Ulster, which had its centre\nin the deeds of the Ulster king, Conchobar Mac Nessa, and his\nnephew and chief warrior, Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim. Tradition places\ntheir date at the beginning of the Christian era.\n\nThe events leading up to this tale, the most famous of Irish\nmythical stories, may be shortly summarised here from the Book of\nLeinster introduction to the _Tain_, and from the other tales\nbelonging to the Ulster cycle.\n\nIt is elsewhere narrated that the Dun Bull of Cualnge, for whose\nsake Ailill and Medb [Note: Pronounce _Maive_.], the king and queen\nof Connaught, undertook this expedition, was one of two bulls in\nwhom two rival swineherds, belonging to the supernatural race known\nas the people of the _Sid_, or fairy-mounds, were re-incarnated,\nafter passing through various other forms. The other bull,\nFindbennach, the White-horned, was in the herd of Medb at Cruachan\nAi, the Connaught capital, but left it to join Ailill's herd. This\ncaused Ailill's possessions to exceed Medb's, and to equalise\nmatters she determined to secure the great Dun Bull, who alone\nequalled the White-horned. An embassy to the owner of the Dun Bull\nfailed, and Ailill and Medb therefore began preparations for an\ninvasion of Ulster, in which province (then ruled by Conchobar Mac\nNessa) Cualnge was situated. A number of smaller _Tana_, or\ncattle-raids, prefatory to the great _Tain Bo Cuailnge_, relate\nsome of their efforts to procure allies and provisions.\n\nMedb chose for the expedition the time when Conchobar and all the\nwarriors of Ulster, except Cuchulainn and Sualtaim, were at their\ncapital, Emain Macha, in a sickness which fell on them periodically,\nmaking them powerless for action; another story relates the cause\nof this sickness, the effect of a curse laid on them by a fairy\nwoman. Ulster was therefore defended only by the seventeen-year-old\nCuchulainn, for Sualtaim's appearance is only spasmodic.\nCuchulainn (Culann's Hound) was the son of Dechtire, the king's\nsister, his father being, in different accounts, either Sualtaim,\nan Ulster warrior; Lug Mac Ethlend, one of the divine heroes\nfrom the _Sid_, or fairy-mound; or Conchobar himself. The\ntwo former both appear as Cuchulainn's father in the present\nnarrative. Cuchulainn is accompanied, throughout the adventures\nhere told, by his charioteer, Loeg Mac Riangabra.\n\nIn Medb's force were several Ulster heroes, including Cormac\nCondlongas, son of Conchobar, Conall Cernach, Dubthach Doeltenga,\nFiacha Mac Firfebe, and Fergus Mac Roich. These were exiled from\nUlster through a bitter quarrel with Conchobar, who had caused the\nbetrayal and murder of the sons of Uisnech, when they had come to\nUlster under the sworn protection of Fergus, as told in the _Exile\nof the Sons of Uisnech_. [Note: 1 Text in Windisch and Stokes's\n_Irische Texte_; English translation in Miss Hull's _Cuchullin\nSaga_.] The Ulster mischief-maker, Bricriu of the Poison-tongue,\nwas also with the Connaught army. Though fighting for Connaught,\nthe exiles have a friendly feeling for their former comrades, and a\nkeen jealousy for the credit of Ulster. There is a constant\ninterchange of courtesies between them and their old pupil,\nCuchulainn, whom they do not scruple to exhort to fresh efforts for\nUlster's honour. An equally half-hearted warrior is Lugaid Mac Nois,\nking of Munster, who was bound in friendship to the Ulstermen.\n\nOther characters who play an important part in the story are\nFindabair, daughter of Ailill and Medb, who is held out as a bribe\nto various heroes to induce them to fight Cuchulainn, and is on one\noccasion offered to the latter in fraud on condition that he will\ngive up his opposition to the host; and the war-goddess, variously\nstyled the Nemain, the Badb (scald-crow), and the Morrigan (great\nqueen), who takes part against Cuchulainn in one of his chief\nfights. Findabair is the bait which induces several old comrades of\nCuchulainn's, who had been his fellow-pupils under the sorceress\nScathach, to fight him in single combat.\n\nThe tale may be divided into:--\n\n1. Introduction: Fedelm's prophecy.\n\n2. Cuchulainn's first feats against the host, and the several\n   _geis_, or taboos, which he lays on them.\n\n3. The narration of Cuchulainn's boyish deeds, by the Ulster exiles\nto the Connaught host.\n\n4. Cuchulainn's harassing of the host.\n\n5. The bargain and series of single combats, interrupted by\n   breaches of the agreement on the part of Connaught.\n\n6. The visit of Lug Mac Ethlend.\n\n7. The fight with Fer Diad.\n\n8. The end: the muster of the Ulstermen.\n\n\nThe MSS.\n\nThe _Tain Bo Cuailnge_ survives, in whole or in part, in a\nconsiderable number of MSS., most of which are, however, late. The\nmost important are three in number:--\n\n(1) Leabhar na h-Uidhri (LU), 'The Book of the Dun Cow,' a MS.\ndating from about 1100. The version here given is an old one,\nthough with some late additions, in later language. The chief of\nthese are the piece coming between the death of the herd Forgemen\nand the fight with Cur Mac Dalath (including Cuchulainn's meeting\nwith Findabair, and the 'womanfight' of Rochad), and the whole of\nwhat follows the Healing of the Morrigan. The tale is, like others\nin this MS., unfinished, the MS. being imperfect.\n\n(2) The Yellow Book of Lecan (YBL), a late fourteenth-century MS.\nThe _Tain_ in this is substantially the same as in LU. The\nbeginning is missing, but the end is given. Some of the late\nadditions of LU are not found here; and YBL, late as it is, often\ngives an older and better text than the earlier MS.\n\n(3) The Book of Leinster (LL), before 1160. The _Tain_ here is\nlonger, fuller, and later in both style and language than in LU or\nYBL. It is essentially a literary attempt to give a complete and\nconsistent narrative, and is much less interesting than the older\nLU-YBL recension.\n\nIn the present version, I have collated LU, as far as it goes, with\nYBL, adding from the latter the concluding parts of the story, from\nthe Fight with Fer Diad to the end. After the Fight with Fer Diad,\nYBL breaks off abruptly, leaving nearly a page blank; then follow\nseveral pages containing lists, alternative versions of some\nepisodes given in LU (Rochad's Woman-fight, the Warning to\nConchobar), and one or two episodes which are narrated in LL. I\nomit about one page, where the narrative is broken and confused.\n\nThe pages which follow the Healing of the Morrigan in LU are\naltogether different in style from the rest of the story as told in\nLU, and are out of keeping with its simplicity. This whole portion\nis in the later manner of LL, with which, for the most part, it is\nin verbal agreement. Further, it is in part repetition of material\nalready given (i.e. the coming of the boy-host of Ulster, and\nCuchulainn's displaying himself to the Connaught troops).\n\n\nCOMPARISON OF THE VERSIONS\n\nA German translation of the Leinster text of the _Tain Bo Cuailnge_\nwill soon be accessible to all in Dr. Windisch's promised edition\nof the text. It is therefore unnecessary to compare the two\nversions in detail. Some of the main differences may be pointed\nout, however.\n\nOf our three copies none is the direct ancestor of any other. LU\nand YBL are from a common source, though the latter MS. is from an\nolder copy; LL is independent. The two types differ entirely in aim\nand method. The writers of LU and YBL aimed at accuracy; the\nLeinster man, at presenting an intelligible version. Hence, where\nthe two former reproduce obscurities and corruptions, the latter\nomits, paraphrases, or expands. The unfortunate result is that LL\nrarely, if ever, helps to clear up textual obscurities in the older\ncopy.\n\nOn the other hand, it offers explanations of certain episodes not\nclearly stated in LU. Thus, for example, where LU, in the story of\nthe sons of Nechta Scene, simply mentions 'the withe that was on\nthe pillar,' LL explains that the withe had been placed there by\nthe sons of Nechta Scene (as Cuchulainn placed a similar with in\nthe path of the Connaught host), with an ogam inscription\nforbidding any to pass without combat; hence its removal was an\ninsult and a breach of _geis_. Again, the various embassies to\nCuchulainn, and the terms made with him (that he should not harass\nthe host if he were supplied daily with food, and with a champion\nto meet him in single combat), are more clearly described in LL.\n\nSome of the episodes given in LU are not told in the Leinster\nversion. Of the boyish deeds of Cuchulainn, LL tells only three:\nhis first appearance at Emain (told by Fergus), Culann's feast (by\nCormac), and the feats following Cuchulainn's taking of arms (by\nFiacha). In the main narrative, the chief episodes omitted in LL\nare the fight with Fraech, the Fergus and Medb episode, and the\nmeeting of Findabair and Cuchulainn. The meeting with the Morrigan\nis missing, owing to the loss of a leaf. Other episodes are\ndifferently placed in LL: e.g. the Rochad story (an entirely\ndifferent account), the fight of Amairgen and Curoi with stones,\nand the warning to Conchobar, all follow the fight with Fer Diad.\n\nA peculiarity of the LU-YBL version is the number of passages which\nit has in common with the _Dinnsenchas_, an eleventh-century\ncompilation of place-legends. The existing collections of\n_Dinnsenchas_ contain over fifty entries derived from the _Tain_\ncycle, some corresponding with, others differing from those in LU.\n\nThis version has also embodied a considerable number of glosses in\nthe text. As many of these are common to LU and YBL, they must go\nback to the common original, which must therefore have been a\nharmony of previously existing versions, since many of these\npassages give variants of incidents.\n\n\nAGE OF THE VERSIONS\n\nThere is no doubt that the version here translated is a very old\none. The language in LU is almost uniformly Middle Irish, not more\nthan a century earlier than the date of the MS.; thus it shows the\npost-thetic _he_, _iat_, etc. as object, the adverb with _co_, the\nconfusion of _ar_ and _for_, the extension of the _b_-future, etc.\nBut YBL preserves forms as old as the Glosses:--\n\n(1) The correct use of the infixed relative, e.g. _rombith_, 'with\nwhich he struck.' (LU, _robith_, 58a, 45.)\n\n(2) The infixed accusative pronoun, e.g. _nachndiusced_, 'that he\nshould not wake him.' (LU, _nach diusced_, 62a, 30.)\n\n(3) _no_ with a secondary tense, e.g. _nolinad_, 'he used to fill.'\n(LU, _rolinad_, 60b, 6.)\n\n(4) Very frequently YBL keeps the right aspirated or non-aspirated\nconsonant, where LU shows a general confusion, etc.\n\nLL has no very archaic forms, though it cultivates a pseudo-archaic\nstyle; and it is unlikely that the Leinster version goes back much\nearlier than 1050. The latter part of the LU _Tain_ shows that a\nversion of the Leinster type was known to the compiler. The style\nof this part, with its piling-up of epithets, is that of\neleventh-century narrative, as exemplified in texts like the _Cath\nRuis na Rig_ and the _Cogadh Gaidhil_; long strings of alliterative\nepithets, introduced for sound rather than sense, are characteristic\nof the period. The descriptions of chariots and horses in the Fer\nDiad episode in YBL are similar, and evidently belong to the same\nrescension.\n\nThe inferences from the facts noted in the foregoing sections may\nbe stated as follows: A version of the _Tain_ goes back to the\nearly eighth, or seventh century, and is preserved under the YBL\ntext; an opinion based on linguistic evidence, but coinciding\nwith the tradition which ascribes the 'Recovery of the _Tain_' to\nSenchan Torpeist, a bard of the later seventh century. This version\ncontinued to be copied down to the eleventh century, gradually\nchanging as the language changed. Meanwhile, varying accounts of\nparts of the story came into existence, and some time in the\neleventh century a new redaction was made, the oldest representative\nof which is the LL text. Parts of this were embodied in or added\nto the older version; hence the interpolations in LU.\n\n\nTHE FER DIAD EPISODE\n\nThere is much difference between the two versions of this episode.\nIn YBL, the introductory portion is long and full, the actual fight\nvery short, while in LL the fight is long-drawn-out, and much more\nstress is laid on the pathetic aspect of the situation. Hence it is\ngenerally assumed that LL preserves an old version of the episode,\nand that the scribe of the Yellow Book has compressed the latter\npart. It is not, however, usual, in primitive story-telling, to\nlinger over scenes of pathos. Such lingering is, like the painted\ntears of late Italian masters, invariably a sign of decadence. It\nis one of the marks of romance, which recognises tragedy only when\nit is voluble, and prodigal of lamentation. The older version of\nthe _Tain_ is throughout singularly free from pathos of the feebler\nsort; the humorous side is always uppermost, and the tragic\nsuggestions interwoven with it.\n\nBut it is still a matter of question whether the whole Fer Diad\nepisode may not be late. Professor Zimmer thinks it is; but even\nthe greatest scholar, with a theory to prove, is not quite free. It\nwill of course be noticed, on this side, that the chief motives of\nthe Fer Diad episode all appear previously in other episodes (e.g.\nthe fights with Ferbaeth and with Loch). Further, the account even\nin YBL is not marked by old linguistic forms as are other parts of\nthe tale, while much of it is in the bombastic descriptive style of\nLL. In the condition in which we have the tale, however, this\nadventure is treated as the climax of the story. Its motive is to\nremove Cuchulainn from the field, in order to give the rest of\nUlster a chance. But in the account of the final great fight in\nYBL, Cuchulainn's absence is said to be due to his having been\nwounded in a combat against odds (_crechtnugud i n-ecomlund_).\nConsidering, therefore, that even in YBL the Fer Diad episode is\nlate in language, it seems possible that it may have replaced some\nearlier account in which Cuchulainn was so severely wounded that he\nwas obliged to retire from the field.\n\n\nPREVIOUS WORK ON THE '_TAIN_'\n\nUp to the present time the _Tain_ has never been either printed or\ntranslated, though the LU version has been for thirty years easily\naccessible in facsimile. Dr. Windisch's promised edition will\nshortly be out, containing the LL and LU texts, with a German\ntranslation of the former. The most useful piece of work done\nhitherto for the _Tain_ is the analysis by Professor Zimmer of the\nLU text (conclusion from the Book of Leinster), in the fifth of his\n_Keltische Studien (Zeitschrift f\u00fcr vergl. Sprachforschung_, xxviii.).\nAnother analysis of the story, by Mr. S. H. O'Grady, appeared in\nMiss Eleanor Hull's _The Cuchullin Saga_; it is based on a late\npaper MS. in the British Museum, giving substantially the same\nversion as LL. This work contains also a map of ancient Ireland,\nshowing the route of the Connaught forces; but a careful working-out\nof the topography of the _Tain_ is much needed, many names being\nstill unidentified. Several of the small introductory _Tana_ have\nbeen published in Windisch and Stokes's _Irische Texte_; and\nseparate episodes from the great _Tain_ have been printed and\ntranslated from time to time. The Fight with Fer Diad (LL) was\nprinted with translation by O'Curry in the _Manners and Customs of\nthe Ancient Irish_. The story of the Two Swineherds, with their\nsuccessive reincarnations until they became the Dun Bull and the\nWhite-horned (an introductory story to the _Tain_ ), is edited with\ntranslation in _Irische Texte_, and Mr. Nutt printed an abridged\nEnglish version in the _Voyage of Bran_.\n\nThe Leinster version seems to have been the favourite with modern\nworkers, probably because it is complete and consistent; possibly\nits more sentimental style has also served to commend it.\n\n\nAIM OF THIS TRANSLATION\n\nIt is perhaps unnecessary to say that the present version is\nintended for those who cannot read the tale in the original; it is\ntherefore inadvisable to overload the volume with notes, variant\nreadings, or explanations of the readings adopted, which might\nrepel the readers to whom it is offered.\n\nAt the present time, an enthusiasm for Irish literature is not\nalways accompanied by a knowledge of the Irish language. It seems\ntherefore to be the translator's duty, if any true estimate of this\nliterature is to be formed, to keep fairly close to the original,\nsince nothing is to be gained by attributing beauties which it does\nnot possess, while obscuring its true merits, which are not few.\nFor the same reason, while keeping the Irish second person singular\nin verses and formal speech, I have in ordinary dialogue\nsubstituted the pronoun _you_, which suggests the colloquial style\nof the original better than the obsolete _thou_.\n\nThe so-called rhetorics are omitted in translating; they are\npassages known in Irish as _rosc_, often partly alliterative, but\nnot measured. They are usually meaningless strings of words, with\noccasional intelligible phrases. In all probability the passages\naimed at sound, with only a general suggestion of the drift. Any\nother omissions are marked where they occur; many obscure words in\nthe long descriptive passages are of necessity left untranslated.\nIn two places I have made slight verbal changes without altering\nthe sense, a liberty which is very rarely necessary in Irish.\n\nOf the headings, those printed in capitals are in the text in the\nMS.; those italicised are marginal. I have bracketed obvious\nscribal glosses which have crept into the text. Some of the\nmarginal glosses are translated in the footnotes.\n\n\nGEOGRAPHICAL NAMES\n\nAs a considerable part of the _Tain_ is occupied by connecting\nepisodes with place-names, an explanation of some of the commonest\nelements in these may be of use to those who know no Irish:\n\nAth=a ford; e.g. Ath Gabla (Ford of the Fork), Ath Traiged (Ford of\nthe Foot), Ath Carpat (Ford of Chariots), Ath Fraich (Fraech's\nFord), etc.\n\nBelat=cross-roads; e.g. Belat Alioin.\n\nBernas=a pass, or gap; e.g. _Bernas Bo Ulad_ or _Bernas Bo Cuailnge_\n(Pass of the Cows of Ulster, or of Cualnge).\n\nClithar=a shelter; e.g. Clithar Bo Ulad (shelter of the Cows of\nUlster).\n\nCul=a corner; e.g. Cul Airthir (eastern corner).\n\nDun= a fort; e.g. Dun Sobairche.\n\nFid=a wood; e.g. Fid Mor Drualle (Great Wood of the Sword-sheath).\n\nGlass=a brook, stream; e.g. Glass Chrau (the stream of Blood),\nGlass Cruind, Glass Gatlaig (gatt=a withe, laig=a calf).\n\nGlenn=a glen; e.g. Glenn Gatt (Glen of the Withe), Glenn Firbaith\n(Ferbaeth's Glen), Glenn Gatlaig.\n\nGrellach=a bog; e.g. Grellach Doluid.\n\nGuala=a hill-shoulder; e.g. Gulo Mulchai (Mulcha's shoulder).\n\nLoch=a lake; e.g. Loch Reoin, Loch Echtra.\n\nMag=a plain; e.g. Mag Ai, Mag Murthemne, Mag Breg, Mag Clochair\n(cloch=a stone).\n\nMethe, explained as if from meth (death); Methe Togmaill (death of\nthe Squirrel), Methe n-Eoin (death of the Bird).\n\nReid, gen. Rede=a plain; e.g. Ath Rede Locha (Ford of Locha's Plain).\n\nSid=a fairy mound; e.g. Sid Fraich (Fraech's Mound).\n\nSliab=a mountain; e.g. Sliab Fuait.\n\nI need perhaps hardly say that many of the etymologies given in\nIrish sources are pure invention, stories being often made up to\naccount for the names, the real meaning of which was unknown to the\nmediaeval story-teller or scribe.\n\nIn conclusion, I have to express my most sincere thanks to\nProfessor Strachan, whose pupil I am proud to be. I have had the\nadvantage of his wide knowledge and experience in dealing with many\nobscurities in the text, and he has also read the proofs. I am\nindebted also to Mr. E. Gwynn, who has collated at Trinity College,\nDublin, a number of passages in the Yellow Book of Lecan, which are\nillegible or incorrect in the facsimile; and to Dr. Whitley Stokes\nfor notes and suggestions on many obscure words.\n\nLLANDAFF, November 1903.\n\n\n\n\n\nTHIS IS THE CATTLE-RAID OF CUALNGE\n\nI\n\nA great hosting was brought together by the Connaughtmen, that is,\nby Ailill and Medb; and they sent to the three other provinces. And\nmessengers were sent by Ailill to the seven sons of Magach: Ailill,\nAnluan, Mocorb, Cet, En, Bascall, and Doche; a cantred with each of\nthem. And to Cormac Condlongas Mac Conchobair with his three\nhundred, who was billeted in Connaught. Then they all come to\nCruachan Ai.\n\nNow Cormac had three troops which came to Cruachan. The first troop\nhad many-coloured cloaks folded round them; hair like a mantle (?);\nthe tunic falling(?) to the knee, and long(?) shields; and a broad\ngrey spearhead on a slender shaft in the hand of each man.\n\nThe second troop wore dark grey cloaks, and tunics with red\nornamentation down to their calves, and long hair hanging behind\nfrom their heads, and white shields (?), and five-pronged spears\nwere in their hands.\n\n'This is not Cormac yet,' said Medb.\n\nThen comes the third troop; and they wore purple cloaks and hooded\ntunics with red ornamentation down to their feet, hair smooth to\ntheir shoulders, and round shields with engraved edges, and the\npillars [Note: i.e. spears as large as pillars, etc.] of a palace\nin the hand of each man.\n\n'This is Cormac now,' said Medb.\n\nThen the four provinces of Ireland were assembled, till they were\nin Cruachan Ai. And their poets and their druids did not let them\ngo thence till the end of a fortnight, for waiting for a good omen.\nMedb said then to her charioteer the day that they set out:\n\n\n'Every one who parts here to-day from his love or his friend will\ncurse me,' said she, 'for it is I who have gathered this hosting.'\n\n'Wait then,' said the charioteer, 'till I turn the chariot with the\nsun, and till there come the power of a good omen that we may come\nback again.'\n\nThen the charioteer turned the chariot, and they set forth. Then\nthey saw a full-grown maiden before them. She had yellow hair, and\na cloak of many colours, and a golden pin in it; and a hooded tunic\nwith red embroidery. She wore two shoes with buckles of gold. Her\nface was narrow below and broad above. Very black were her two\neyebrows; her black delicate eyelashes cast a shadow into the\nmiddle of her two cheeks. You would think it was with _partaing_\n[Note: Exact meaning unknown. It is always used in this\nconnection.] her lips were adorned. You would think it was a shower\nof pearls that was in her mouth, that is, her teeth. She had three\ntresses: two tresses round her head above, and a tress behind, so\nthat it struck her two thighs behind her. A shuttle [Note: Literally,\na beam used for making fringe.] of white metal, with an inlaying\nof gold, was in her hand. Each of her two eyes had three pupils.\nThe maiden was armed, and there were two black horses to her chariot.\n\n'What is your name?' said Medb to the maiden.\n\n'Fedelm, the prophetess of Connaught, is my name,' said the maiden.\n\n'Whence do you come?' said Medb.\n\n'From Scotland, after learning the art of prophecy,' said the\nmaiden.\n\n'Have you the inspiration(?) which illumines?' [Note: Ir. _imbas\nforasnai_, the name of a kind of divination.] said Medb.\n\n'Yes, indeed,' said the maiden.\n\n'Look for me how it will be with my hosting,' said Medb.\n\nThen the maiden looked for it; and Medb said: 'O Fedelm the\nprophetess, how seest thou the host?'\n\nFedelm answered and said: 'I see very red, I see red.'\n\n'That is not true,' said Medb; 'for Conchobar is in his sickness at\nEmain and the Ulstermen with him, with all the best [Note:\nConjectural; some letters missing. For the Ulster sickness, see\nIntroduction.] of their warriors; and my messengers have come and\nbrought me tidings thence.\n\n'Fedelm the prophetess, how seest thou our host?' said Medb.\n\n'I see red,' said the maiden.\n\n'That is not true,' said Medb; 'for Celtchar Mac Uithichair is in\nDun Lethglaise, and a third of the Ulstermen with him; and Fergus,\nson of Roich, son of Eochaid, is here with us, in exile, and a\ncantred with him.\n\n'Fedelm the prophetess, how seest thou our host?' said Medb.\n\n'I see very red, I see red,' said the maiden.\n\n'That matters not,' said Medb; 'for there are mutual angers, and\nquarrels, and wounds very red in every host and in every\nassembly of a great army. Look again for us then, and tell us the\ntruth.\n\n'Fedelm the prophetess, how seest thou our host?'\n\n'I see very red, I see red,' said Fedelm.\n\n        'I see a fair man who will make play\n         With a number of wounds(?) on his girdle;\n[Note: Unless this is an allusion to the custom of carrying an\nenemy's head at the girdle, the meaning is obscure. LL has quite a\ndifferent reading. The language of this poem is late.]\n         A hero's flame over his head,\n         His forehead a meeting-place of victory.\n\n        'There are seven gems of a hero of valour\n         In the middle of his two irises;\n         There is ---- on his cloak,\n         He wears a red clasped tunic.\n\n        'He has a face that is noble,\n         Which causes amazement to women.\n         A young man who is fair of hue\n         Comes ----\n[Note: Five syllables missing.]\n\n        'Like is the nature of his valour\n         To Cuchulainn of Murthemne.\n         I do not know whose is the Hound\n         Of Culann, whose fame is the fairest.\n         But I know that it is thus\n         That the host is very red from him.\n\n        'I see a great man on the plain\n         He gives battle to the hosts;\n         Four little swords of feats\n         There are in each of his two hands.\n\n        'Two _Gae-bolga_, he carries them,\n[Note: The Gae-bolga was a special kind of spear, which only\nCuchulainn could use.]\n         Besides an ivory-hilted sword and spear;\n         ---- [Note: Three syllables missing] he wields to the host;\n         Different is the deed for which each arm goes from him.\n\n        'A man in a battle-girdle (?), of a red cloak,\n         He puts ---- every plain.\n         He smites them, over left chariot wheel (?);\n         The _Riastartha_ wounds them.\n[Note: The Riastartha ('distorted one') was a name given to\nCuchulainn because of the contortion, described later, which came\nover him.]\n         The form that appeared to me on him hitherto,\n         I see that his form has been changed.\n\n        'He has moved forward to the battle,\n         If heed is not taken of him it will be treachery.\n         I think it likely it is he who seeks you:\n         Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim.\n\n        'He will strike on whole hosts,\n         He will make dense slaughters of you,\n         Ye will leave with him many thousands of heads.\n         The prophetess Fedelm conceals not.\n\n        'Blood will rain from warriors' wounds\n         At the hand of a warrior--'twill be full harm.\n         He will slay warriors, men will wander\n         Of the descendants of Deda Mac Sin.\n         Corpses will be cut off, women will lament\n         Through the Hound of the Smith that I see.'\n\nThe Monday after Samain [Note: Samain, 'summer-end,' about the\nbeginning of November.] they set forth, and this is the way they\ntook: south-east from Cruachan Ai, i.e. by Muicc Cruimb, by Teloch\nTeora Crich, by Tuaim Mona, by Cul Sibrinne, by Fid, by Bolga, by\nColtain, by Glune-gabair, by Mag Trego, by North Tethba, by South\nTethba, by Tiarthechta, by Ord, by Slais southwards, by Indiuind,\nby Carnd, by Ochtrach, by Midi, by Findglassa Assail, by Deilt, by\nDelind, by Sailig, by Slaibre, by Slechta Selgatar, by Cul\nSibrinne, by Ochaind southwards, by Uatu northwards, by Dub, by\nComur southwards, by Tromma, by Othromma eastwards, by Slane, by\nGortslane, by Druim Licce southwards, by Ath Gabla, by Ard Achad,\nby Feraind northwards, by Findabair, by Assi southwards, by Druim\nSalfind, by Druim Cain, by Druim Mac n-Dega, by Eodond Mor, by\nEodond Bec, by Methe Togmaill, by Methe Eoin, by Druim Caemtechta,\nby Scuaip, by Imscuaip, by Cend Ferna, by Baile, by Aile, by Bail\nScena, by Dail Scena, by Fertse, by Ross Lochad, by Sale, by\nLochmach, by Anmag, by Deind, by Deilt, by Dubglaiss, by Fid Mor,\nby Colbtha, by Cronn, to Cualnge.\n\n\n\nFrom Findabair Cuailnge, it is thence the hosts of Ireland were\ndivided over the province to seek the Bull. For it is past these\nplaces that they came, till they reached Findabair.\n\n(Here ends the title; and the story begins as follows:--\n\nTHIS IS THE STORY IN ORDER\n\nWhen they had come on their first journey from Cruachan as far as\nCul Sibrinne, Medb told her charioteer to get ready her nine\nchariots for her, that she might make a circuit in the camp, to see\nwho disliked and who liked the expedition.\n\nNow his tent was pitched for Ailill, and the furniture was\narranged, both beds and coverings. Fergus Mac Roich in his tent was\nnext to Ailill; Cormac Condlongas Mac Conchobair beside him; Conall\nCernach by him; Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe, the son of Conchobar's\ndaughter, by him. Medb, daughter of Eochaid Fedlech, was on\nAilill's other side; next to her, Findabair, daughter of Ailill and\nMedb. That was besides servants and attendants.\n\nMedb came, after looking at the host, and she said it were folly\nfor the rest to go on the hosting, if the cantred of the\nLeinstermen went.\n\n'Why do you blame the men?' said Ailill.\n\n'We do not blame them,' said Medb; 'splendid are the warriors. When\nthe rest were making their huts, they had finished thatching their\nhuts and cooking their food; when the rest were at dinner, they had\nfinished dinner, and their harpers were playing to them. It is\nfolly for them to go,' said Medb; 'it is to their credit the\nvictory of the hosts will be.'\n\n'It is for us they fight,' said Ailill.\n\n'They shall not come with us,' said Medb.\n\n'Let them stay then,' said Ailill.\n\n'They shall not stay,' said Medb. 'They will come on us after we\nhave gone,' said she, 'and seize our land against us.'\n\n'What is to be done to them?' said Ailill; 'will you have them\nneither stay nor go?'\n\n'To kill them,' said Medb.\n\n'We will not hide that this is a woman's plan,' said Ailill; 'what\nyou say is not good!'\n\n'With this folk,' said Fergus, 'it shall not happen thus (for it is\na folk bound by ties to us Ulstermen), unless we are all killed.'\n\n'Even that we could do,' said Medb; 'for I am here with my retinue\nof two cantreds,' said she, 'and there are the seven Manes, that\nis, my seven sons, with seven cantreds; their luck can protect\nthem,' (?) said she; 'that is Mane-Mathramail, and Mane-Athramail,\nand Mane-Morgor, and Mane-Mingor, and Mane-Moepert (and he is\nMane-Milscothach), Mane-Andoe, and Mane-who-got-everything: he got\nthe form of his mother and of his father, and the dignity of both.'\n\n'It would not be so,' said Fergus. 'There are seven kings of\nMunster here, and a cantred with each of them, in friendship with\nus Ulstermen. I will give battle to you,' said Fergus, 'in the\nmiddle of the host in which we are, with these seven cantreds, and\nwith my own cantred, and with the cantred of the Leinstermen. But I\nwill not urge that,' said Fergus, 'we will provide for the warriors\notherwise, so that they shall not prevail over the host. Seventeen\ncantreds for us,' said Fergus, 'that is the number of our army,\nbesides our rabble, and our women (for with each king there is his\nqueen, in Medb's company), and besides our striplings. This is the\neighteenth cantred, the cantred of the Leinstermen. Let them be\ndistributed among the rest of the host.'\n\n'I do not care,' said Medb, 'provided they are not gathered as they\nare.'\n\nThen this was done; the Leinstermen were distributed among the host.\n\nThey set out next morning to Moin Choiltrae, where eight score deer\nfell in with them in one herd. They surrounded them and killed them\nthen; wherever there was a man of the Leinstermen, it was he who\ngot them, except five deer that all the rest of the host got. Then\nthey came to Mag Trego, and stopped there and prepared their food.\nThey say that it is there that Dubthach sang this song:\n\n        'Grant what you have not heard hitherto,\n         Listening to the fight of Dubthach.\n         A hosting very black is before you,\n         Against Findbend of the wife of Ailill.\n[Note: Findbennach, the Whitehorned; i.e. the other of the two\nbulls in whom the rival swineherds were reincarnated.]\n\n        'The man of expeditions will come\n         Who will defend (?) Murthemne.\n         Ravens will drink milk of ---- [Note: Some kenning for blood?]\n         From the friendship of the swineherds.\n\n        'The turfy Cronn will resist them;\n[Note: i.e. the river Cronn. This line is a corruption of a\nreference which occurs later, in the account of the flooding of the\nCronn, as Professor Strachan first pointed out to me.]\n         He will not let them into Murthemne\n         Until the work of warriors is over\n         In Sliab Tuad Ochaine.\n\n       '\"Quickly,\" said Ailill to Cormac,\n        \"Go that you may ---- your son.\n         The cattle do not come from the fields\n         That the din of the host may not terrify them(?).\n\n       '\"This will be a battle in its time\n         For Medb with a third of the host.\n         There will be flesh of men therefrom\n         If the Riastartha comes to you.\"'\n\nThen the Nemain attacked them, and that was not the quietest of\nnights for them, with the uproar of the churl (i.e. Dubthach)\nthrough their sleep. The host started up at once, and a great\nnumber of the host were in confusion, till Medb came to reprove\nhim.\n\nThen they went and spent the night in Granard Tethba Tuascirt,\nafter the host had been led astray over bogs and over streams. A\nwarning was sent from Fergus to the Ulstermen here, for friendship.\nThey were now in the weakness, except Cuchulainn and his father\nSualtaim.\n\nCuchulainn and his father went, after the coming of the warning\nfrom Fergus, till they were in Iraird Cuillend, watching the host\nthere.\n\n'I think of the host to-night,' said Cuchulainn to his father. 'Go\nfrom us with a warning to the Ulstermen. I am forced to go to a\ntryst with Fedelm Noichride, [Note: Gloss incorporated in the text:\nthat is, with her servant,' etc.] from my own pledge that went out\nto her.'\n\nHe made a spancel-withe [This was a twig twisted in the form of two\nrings, joined by one straight piece, as used for hobbling horses\nand cattle.] then before he went, and wrote an ogam on its ----,\nand threw it on the top of the pillar.\n\nThe leadership of the way before the army was given to Fergus. Then\nFergus went far astray to the south, till Ulster should have\ncompleted the collection of an army; he did this for friendship.\nAilill and Medb perceived it; it was then Medb said:\n\n        'O Fergus, this is strange,\n         What kind of way do we go?\n         Straying south or north\n         We go over every other folk.\n\n        'Ailill of Ai with his hosting\n         Fears that you will betray them.\n         You have not given your mind hitherto\n         To the leading of the way.\n\n        'If it is in friendship that you do it,\n         Do not lead the horses\n         Peradventure another may be found\n         To lead the way.'\n\nFergus replied:\n\n        'O Medb, what troubles you?\n         This is not like treachery.\n         It belongs to the Ulstermen, O woman,\n         The land across which I am leading you.\n\n        'It is not for the disadvantage of the host\n         That I go on each wandering in its turn;\n         It is to avoid the great man\n         Who protects Mag Murthemne.\n\n        'Not that my mind is not distressed\n         On account of the straying on which I go,\n         But if perchance I may avoid even afterwards\n         Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim.'\n\nThen they went till they were in Iraird Cuillend. Eirr and Indell,\nFoich and Foclam (their two charioteers), the four sons of Iraird\nMac Anchinne, [Marginal gloss: 'or the four sons of Nera Mac Nuado\nMac Taccain, as it is found in other books.'] it is they who were\nbefore the host, to protect their brooches and their cushions and\ntheir cloaks, that the dust of the host might not soil them. They\nfound the withe that Cuchulainn threw, and perceived the grazing\nthat the horses had grazed. For Sualtaim's two horses had eaten the\ngrass with its roots from the earth; Cuchulainn's two horses had\nlicked the earth as far as the stones beneath the grass. They sit\ndown then, until the host came, and the musicians play to them.\nThey give the withe into the hands of Fergus Mac Roich; he read the\nogam that was on it.\n\nWhen Medb came, she asked, 'Why are you waiting here?'\n\n'We wait,' said Fergus,' because of the withe yonder. There is an\nogam on its ----, and this is what is in it: \"Let no one go past\ntill a man is found to throw a like withe with his one hand, and\nlet it be one twig of which it is made; and I except my friend\nFergus.\" Truly,' said Fergus, 'Cuchulainn has thrown it, and they\nare his horses that grazed the plain.'\n\n\nAnd he put it in the hands of the druids; and Fergus sang this song:\n\n        'Here is a withe, what does the withe declare to us?\n         What is its mystery?\n         What number threw it?\n         Few or many?\n\n        'Will it cause injury to the host,\n         If they go a journey from it?\n         Find out, ye druids, something therefore\n         For what the withe has been left.\n\n        '---- of heroes the hero who has thrown it,\n         Full misfortune on warriors;\n         A delay of princes, wrathful is the matter,\n         One man has thrown it with one hand.\n\n        'Is not the king's host at the will of him,\n         Unless it breaks fair play?\n         Until one man only of you\n         Throw it, as one man has thrown it.\n         I do not know anything save that\n         For which the withe should have been put.\n                                  Here is a withe.'\n\nThen Fergus said to them: 'If you outrage this withe,' said he, 'or\nif you go past it, though he be in the custody of a man, or in a\nhouse under a lock, the ---- of the man who wrote the ogam on it\nwill reach him, and will slay a goodly slaughter of you before\nmorning, unless one of you throw a like withe.'\n\n'It does not please us, indeed, that one of us should be slain at\nonce,' said Ailill. 'We will go by the neck of the great wood\nyonder, south of us, and we will not go over it at all.'\n\nThe troops hewed down then the wood before the chariots. This is\nthe name of that place, Slechta. It is there that Partraige is.\n(According to others, the conversation between Medb and Fedelm the\nprophetess took place there, as we told before; and then it is\nafter the answer she gave to Medb that the wood was cut down; i.e.\n'Look for me,' said Medb, 'how my hosting will be.' 'It is\ndifficult to me,' said the maiden; 'I cannot cast my eye over them\nin the wood.' 'It is ploughland (?) there shall be,' said Medb; 'we\nwill cut down the wood.' Then this was done, so that Slechta was\nthe name of the place.)\n\n\nThey spent the night then in Cul Sibrille; a great snowstorm fell\non them, to the girdles of the men and the wheels of the chariots.\nThe rising was early next morning. And it was not the most peaceful\nof nights for them, with the snow; and they had not prepared food\nthat night. But it was not early when Cuchulainn came from his\ntryst; he waited to wash and bathe.\n\nThen he came on the track of the host. 'Would that we had not gone\nthere,' said Cuchulainn, 'nor betrayed the Ulstermen; we have let\nthe host go to them unawares. Make us an estimation of the host,'\nsaid Cuchulainn to Loeg, 'that we may know the number of the host.'\n\nLoeg did this, and said to Cuchulainn: 'I am confused,' said he, 'I\ncannot attain this.'\n\n'It would not be confusion that I see, if only I come,' said\n\nCuchulainn.\n\n'Get into the chariot then,' said Loeg.\n\nCuchulainn got into the chariot, and put a reckoning over the host\nfor a long time.\n\n'Even you,' said Loeg, 'you do not find it easy.'\n\n'It is easier indeed to me than to you,' said Cuchulainn; 'for I\nhave three gifts, the gifts of eye, and of mind, and of reckoning.\nI have put a reckoning [Marginal gloss: 'This is one of the three\nseverest and most difficult reckonings made in Ireland; i.e.\nCuchulainn's reckoning of the men of Ireland on the _Tain_; and\nug's reckoning of the Fomorian hosts at the battle of Mag Tured;\nand Ingcel's reckoning of the hosts at the Bruiden Da Derga.'] on\nthis,' said he; 'there are eighteen cantreds,' said he, 'for their\nnumber; only that the eighteenth cantred is distributed among all\nthe host, so that their number is not clear; that is, the cantred\nof the Leinstermen.'\n\nThen Cuchulainn went round the host till he was at Ath Gabla.\n[Note: LU has Ath Grena.] He cuts a fork [Note: i.e. fork of a\ntree.] there with one blow of his sword, and put it on the middle\nof the stream, so that a chariot could not pass it on this side or\nthat. Eirr and Indell, Foich and Fochlam (their two charioteers)\ncame upon him thereat. He strikes their four heads off, and throws\nthem on to the four points of the fork. Hence is Ath Gabla.\n\nThen the horses of the four went to meet the host, and their\ncushions very red on them. They supposed it was a battalion that\nwas before them at the ford. A troop went from them to look at the\nford; they saw nothing there but the track of one chariot and the\nfork with the four heads, and a name in ogam written on the side.\nAll the host came then.\n\n'Are the heads yonder from our people?' said Medb.\n\n'They are from our people and from our choice warriors,' said\nAilill.\n\nOne of them read the ogam that was on the side of the fork; that\nis: 'A man has thrown the fork with his one hand; and you shall not\ngo past it till one of you, except Fergus, has thrown it with one\nhand.'\n\n'It is a marvel,' said Ailill, 'the quickness with which the four\nwere struck.'\n\nIt was not that that was a marvel,' said Fergus; 'it was the\nstriking of the fork from the trunk with one blow; and if the end\nwas [cut] with one blow, [Note: Lit. 'if its end was one cutting.']\nit is the fairer for it, and that it was thrust in in this manner;\nfor it is not a hole that has been dug for it, but it is from the\nback of the chariot it has been thrown with one hand.'\n\n'Avert this strait from us, O Fergus,' said Medb.\n\nBring me a chariot then,' said Fergus, 'that I may take it out,\nthat you may see whether its end was hewn with one blow.' Fergus\nbroke then fourteen chariots of his chariots, so that it was from\nhis own chariot that he took it out of the ground, and he saw that\nthe end was hewn with one blow.\n\n'Heed must be taken to the character of the tribe to which we are\ngoing,' said Ailill. 'Let each of you prepare his food; you had no\nrest last night for the snow. And something shall be told to us of\nthe adventures and stories of the tribe to which we are going.'\n\nIt is then that the adventures of Cuchulainn were related to them.\nAilill asked: 'Is it Conchobar who has done this?'\n\n'Not he,' said Fergus; 'he would not have come to the border of the\ncountry without the number of a battalion round him.'\n\n'Was it Celtchar Mac Uithidir?'\n\n'Not he; he would not have come to the border of the country\nwithout the number of a battalion round him.'\n\n'Was it Eogan Mac Durtacht?'\n\n'Not he,' said Fergus; 'he would not have come over the border of\nthe country without thirty chariots two-pointed (?) round him. This\nis the man who would have done the deed,' said Fergus, 'Cuchulainn;\nit is he who would have cut the tree at one blow from the trunk,\nand who would have killed the four yonder as quickly as they were\nkilled, and who would have come to the boundary with his charioteer.'\n\n'What kind of man,' said Ailill, 'is this Hound of whom we have\nheard among the Ulstermen? What age is this youth who is famous?'\n\n'An easy question, truly,' said Fergus. 'In his fifth year he went\nto the boys at Emain Macha to play; in his sixth year he went to\nlearn arms and feats with Scathach. In his seventh year he took\narms. He is now seventeen years old at this time.'\n\n'Is it he who is hardest to deal with among the Ulstermen?' said\nMedb.\n\n'Over every one of them,' said Fergus. 'You will not find before\nyou a warrior who is harder to deal with, nor a point that is\nsharper or keener or swifter, nor a hero who is fiercer, nor a\nraven that is more flesh-loving, nor a match of his age that can\nequal him as far as a third; nor a lion that is fiercer, nor a\nfence(?) of battle, nor a hammer of destruction, nor a door of\nbattle, nor judgment on hosts, nor preventing of a great host that\nis more worthy. You will not find there a man who would reach his\nage, and his growth, and his dress, and his terror, his speech, his\nsplendour, his fame, his voice, his form, his power, his hardness,\nhis accomplishment, his valour, his striking, his rage, his anger,\nhis victory, his doom-giving, his violence, his estimation, his\nhero-triumph, his speed, his pride, his madness, with the feat of\nnine men on every point, like Cuchulainn!'\n\n'I don't care for that,' said Medb; 'he is in one body; he endures\nwounding; he is not above capturing. Therewith his age is that of a\ngrown-up girl, and his manly deeds have not come yet.'\n\n'Not so,' said Fergus. 'It would be no wonder if he were to do a\ngood deed to-day; for even when he was younger his deeds were\nmanly.'\n\n\nHERE ARE HIS BOYISH DEEDS\n\n'He was brought up,' said Fergus, 'by his mother and father at the\n---- in Mag Murthemne. The stories of the boys in Emain were\nrelated to him; for there are three fifties of boys there,' said\nFergus, 'at play. It is thus that Conchobar enjoys his sovereignty:\na third of the day watching the boys; another third playing chess;\n[Note: _Fidchill_, usually so translated, but the exact nature of\nthe game is uncertain.] another third drinking beer till sleep\nseizes him therefrom. Although we are in exile, there is not in\nIreland a warrior who is more wonderful,' said Fergus.\n\n'Cuchulainn asked his mother then to let him go to the boys.\n\n\n'\"You shall not go,\" said his mother, \"until you have company of\nwarriors.\"\n\n'\"I deem it too long to wait for it,\" said Cuchulainn. \"Show me on\nwhich side Emain is.\"\n\n'\"Northwards so,\" said his mother; \"and the journey is hard,\" said\nshe, \"Sliab Fuait is between you.\"\n\n'\"I will find it out,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'He goes forth then, and his shield of lath with him, and his\ntoy-spear, and his playing-club, and his ball. He kept throwing his\nstaff before him, so that he took it by the point before the end\nfell on the ground.\n\n'He goes then to the boys without binding them to protect him. For\nno one used to go to them in their play-field till his protection\nwas guaranteed. He did not know this.\n\n'\"The boy insults us,\" said Follomon Mac Conchobair, \"besides we\nknow he is of the Ulstermen. ... Throw at him!\"\n\n'They throw their three fifties of toy-spears at him, and they all\nremained standing in his shield of lath. Then they throw all the\nballs at him; and he takes them, each single ball, in his bosom.\nThen they throw their three fifties of hurling-clubs at him; he\nwarded them off so that they did not touch him, and he took a\nbundle of them on his back. Then contortion seized him. You would\nhave thought that it was a hammering wherewith each little hair had\nbeen driven into his head, with the arising with which he arose.\nYou would have thought there was a spark of fire on every single\nhair. He shut one of his eyes so that it was not wider than the eye\nof a needle. He opened the other so that it was as large as the\nmouth of a meadcup. He laid bare from his jawbone to his ear; he\nopened his mouth to his jaw [Note: Conjectured from the later\ndescription of Cuchulainn's distortion.] so that his gullet was\nvisible. The hero's light rose from his head. Then he strikes at\nthe boys. He overthrows fifty of them before they reached the door\nof Emain. Nine of them came over me and Conchobar as we were\nplaying chess. Then he springs over the chessboard after the nine.\nConchobar caught his elbow.\n\n'\"The boys are not well treated,\" said Conchobar.\n\n'\"Lawful for me, O friend Conchobar,\" said he. \"I came to them from\nmy home to play, from my mother and father; and they have not been\ngood to me.\"\n\n'\"What is your name?\" said Conchobar.\n\n\n'\"Setanta Mac Sualtaim am I,\" said he, \"and the son of Dechtere,\nyour sister. It was not fitting to hurt me here.\"\n\n'\"Why were the boys not bound to protect you?\" said Conchobar.\n\n'\"I did not know this,\" said Cuchulainn. \"Undertake my protection\nagainst them then.\"\n\n'\"I recognise it,\" said Conchobar.\n\n'Then he turned aside on [Note: i.e. to attack them.] the boys\nthroughout the house.\n\n'\"What ails you at them now?\" said Conchobar.\n\n'\"That I may be bound to protect them,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'\"Undertake it,\" said Conchobar.\n\n'\"I recognise it,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Then they all went into the play-field, and those boys who had\nbeen struck down there arose. Their foster-mothers and foster-fathers\nhelped them.\n\n\n'Once,' said Fergus, 'when he was a youth, he used not to sleep in\nEmain Macha till morning.\n\n'\"Tell me,\" said Conchobar to him, \"why you do not sleep?\"\n\n'\"I do not do it,\" said Cuchulainn, \"unless it is equally high at\nmy head and my feet.\"\n\n'Then a stone pillar was put by Conchobar at his head, and another\nat his feet, and a bed was made for him separately between them.\n\n\n'Another time a certain man went to awaken him, and he struck him\nwith his fist in his forehead, so that it took the front of his\nforehead on to the brain, and so that he overthrew the pillar with\nhis arm.'\n\n'It is known,' said Ailill, 'that it was the fist of a warrior and\nthat it was the arm of a hero.'\n\n'From that time,' said Fergus, 'no one dared to waken him till he\nawoke of himself.\n\n\n'Another time he was playing ball in the play-field east of Emain;\nhe alone apart against the three fifties of boys; he used to defeat\nthem in every game in this way always. The boys lay hold of him\ntherewith, and he plied his fist upon them until fifty of them were\nkilled. He took to flight then, till he was under the pillow of\nConchobar's bed. All the Ulstermen rise round him, and I rise, and\nConchobar himself. Then he rose under the bed, and put the bed from\nhim, with the thirty heroes who were on it, till it was in the\nmiddle of the house. The Ulstermen sit round him in the house. We\narrange and make peace then,' said Fergus, 'between the boys and\nhim.\n\n\n'There was contention between Ulster and Eogan Mac Durtacht. The\nUlstermen went to the battle. He was left asleep. The Ulstermen\nwere defeated. Conchobar was left [on the field], and Cuscraid Mend\nMacha, and many more beside. Their lament awoke Cuchulainn. He\nstretched himself then, so that the two stones that were about him\nbroke; in the presence of Bricriu yonder it was done,' said Fergus.\n'Then he arose. I met him in the door of the fort, and I wounded.\n\n'\"Alas! God save you, friend Fergus,\" said he, \"where is Conchobar?\"\n\n'\"I do not know,\" said I.\n\n'Then he went forth. The night was dark. He made for the\nbattlefield. He saw a man before him, with half his head on, and\nhalf of another man on his back.\n\n'\"Help me, O Cuchulainn,\" said he; \"I have been wounded and I have\nbrought half of my brother on my back. Carry it for me a while.\"\n\n'\"I will not carry it,\" said he.\n\n'Then he throws the burden to him; he throws it from him; they\nwrestle; Cuchulainn was overthrown. I heard something, the\nBadb from the corpses: \"Ill the stuff of a hero that is under the\nfeet of a phantom.\" Then Cuchulainn rose against him, and strikes\nhis head off with his playing-club, and begins to drive his ball\nbefore him across the plain.\n\n'\"Is my friend Conchobar in this battlefield?\"\n\n'He answered him. He goes to him, till he sees him in the trench,\nand there was the earth round him on every side to hide him.\n\n'\"Why have you come into the battlefield,\" said Conchobar, \"that\nyou may swoon there?\"\n\n'He lifts him out of the trench then; six of the strong men of\nUlster with us would not have brought him out more bravely.\n\n'\"Go before us to the house yonder,\" said Conchobar; \"if a roast\npig came to me, I should live.\"\n\n'\"I will go and bring it,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'He goes then, and saw a man at a cooking-hearth in the middle of\nthe wood; one of his two hands had his weapons in it, the other was\ncooking the pig.\n\n'The hideousness of the man was great; nevertheless he attacked him\nand took his head and his pig with him. Conchobar ate the pig then.\n\n'\"Let us go to our house,\" said Conchobar.\n\n'They met Cuscraid Mac Conchobair. There were sure wounds on him;\nCuchulainn took him on his back. The three of them went then to\nEmain Macha.\n\n\n'Another time the Ulstermen were in their weakness. There was not\namong us,' said Fergus, 'weakness on women and boys, nor on any one\nwho was outside the country of the Ulstermen, nor on Cuchulainn and\nhis father. And so no one dared to shed their blood; for the\nsuffering springs on him who wounds them. [Gloss incorporated in\ntext: 'or their decay, or their shortness of life.']\n\n'Three times nine men came to us from the Isles of Faiche. They\nwent over our back court when we were in our weakness. The women\nscreamed in the court. The boys were in the play-field; they come\nat the cries. When the boys saw the dark, black men, they all take\nto flight except Cuchulainn alone. He plies hand-stones and his\nplaying-club on them. He kills nine of them, and they leave fifty\nwounds on him, and they go forth besides. A man who did these deeds\nwhen his five years were not full, it would be no wonder that he\nshould have come to the edge of the boundary and that he should\nhave cut off the heads of yonder four.'\n\n\n'We know him indeed, this boy,' said Conall Cernach, 'and we know\nhim none the worse that he is a fosterling of ours. It was not long\nafter the deed that Fcrgus has just related, when he did another\ndeed. When Culann the smith served a feast to Conchobar, Culann\nsaid that it was not a multitude that should be brought to him, for\nthe preparation which he had made was not from land or country, but\nfrom the fruit of his two hands and his pincers. Then Conchobar\nwent, and fifty chariots with him, of those who were noblest and\nmost eminent of the heroes. Now Conchobar visited then his\nplay-field. It was always his custom to visit and revisit them at\ngoing and coming, to seek a greeting of the boys. He saw then\nCuchulainn driving his ball against the three fifties of boys, and\nhe gets the victory over them. When it was hole-driving that they\ndid, he filled the hole with his balls and they could not ward him\noff. When they were all throwing into the hole, he warded them off\nalone, so that not a single ball would go in it. When it was\nwrestling they were doing, he overthrew the three fifties of boys\nby himself, and there did not meet round him a number that could\noverthrow him. When it was stripping that they did, he stripped\nthem all so that they were quite naked, and they could not take\nfrom him even his brooch out of his cloak.\n\n'Conchobar thought this wonderful. He said \"Would he bring his\ndeeds to completion, provided the age of manhood came to them?\"\nEvery one said: \"He would bring them to completion.\" Conchobar said\nto Cuchulainn: \"Come with me,\" said he, \"to the feast to which we\nare going, because you are a guest.\"\n\n'\"I have not had enough of play yet, O friend Conchobar,\" said the\nboy; \"I will come after you.\"\n\n'When they had all come to the feast, Culann said to Conchobar: \"Do\nyou expect any one to follow you?\" said he.\n\n'\"No,\" said Conchobar. He did not remember the appointment with his\nfoster-son who was following him.\n\n'\"I'll have a watch-dog,\" said Culann; \"there are three chains on\nhim, and three men to each chain. [Gloss incorporated in text: 'He\nwas brought from Spain.'] Let him be let slip because of our cattle\nand stock, and let the court be shut.\"\n\n'Then the boy comes. The dog attacks him. He went on with his play\nstill: he threw his ball, and threw his club after it, so that it\nstruck the ball. One stroke was not greater than another; and he\nthrew his toy-spear after them, and he caught it before falling;\nand it did not hinder his play, though the dog was approaching him.\nConchobar and his retinue ---- this, so that they could not move;\nthey thought they would not find him alive when they came, even\nthough the court were open. Now when the dog came to him, he threw\naway his ball and his club, and seized the dog with his two hands;\nthat is, he put one of his hands to the apple of the dog's throat;\nand he put the other at its back; he struck it against the pillar\nthat was beside him, so that every limb sprang apart. (According to\nanother, it was his ball that he threw into its mouth, and brought\nout its entrails through it.)\n\n'The Ulstermen went towards him, some over the wall, others over\nthe doors of the court. They put him on Conchobar's knee. A great\nclamour arose among them, that the king's sister's son should have\nbeen almost killed. Then Culann comes into the house.\n\n'\"Welcome, boy, for the sake of your mother. Would that I had not\nprepared a feast! My life is a life lost, and my husbandry is a\nhusbandry without, without my dog. He had kept honour and life for\nme,\" said he, \"the man of my household who has been taken from me,\nthat is, my dog. He was defence and protection to our property and\nour cattle; he was the protection of every beast to us, both field\nand house.\"\n\n'\"It is not a great matter,\" said the boy; \"a whelp of the same\nlitter shall be raised for you by me, and I will be a dog for the\ndefence of your cattle and for your own defence now, until that dog\ngrows, and until he is capable of action; and I will defend Mag\nMurthemne, so that there shall not be taken away from me cattle nor\nherd, unless I have ----.\"\n\n'\"Then your name shall be Cu-chulainn,\" said Cathbad.\n\n'\"I am content that it may be my name,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'A man who did this in his seventh year, it would be no wonder that\nhe should have done a great deed now when his seventeen years are\ncompleted,' said Conall Cernach.\n\n\n'He did another exploit,' said Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe. 'Cathbad the\nDruid was with his son, Conchobar Mac Nessa. A hundred active men\nwere with him, learning magic from him. That is the number that\nCathbad used to teach. A certain one of his pupils asked of him for\nwhat this day would be good. Cathbad said a warrior should take\narms therein whose name should be over Ireland for ever, for deed\nof valour, and his fame should continue for ever. Cuchulainn heard\nthis. He comes to Conchobar to ask for arms. Conchobar said, \"Who\nhas instructed you?\"\n\n'\"My friend Cathbad,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'\"We know indeed,\" said Conchobar.\n\n'He gave him spear and shield. He brandished them in the middle of\nthe house, so that nothing remained of the fifteen sets of armour\nthat were in store in Conchobar's household against the breaking of\nweapons or taking of arms by any one. Conchobar's own armour was\ngiven to him. That withstood him, and he brandished it, and blessed\nthe king whose armour it was, and said, \"Blessing to the people and\nrace to whom is king the man whose armour that is.\"\n\n'Then Cathbad came to them, and said: \"Has the boy taken arms?\"\nsaid Cathbad.\n\n'\"Yes,\" said Conchobar.\n\n'\"This is not lucky for the son of his mother,\" said he.\n\n'\"What, is it not you advised it?\" said Conchobar.\n\n'\"Not I, surely,\" said Cathbad.\n\n'\"What advantage to you to deceive me, wild boy?\" said Conchobar to\nCuchulainn.\n\n'\"O king of heroes, it is no trick,\" said Cuchulainn; \"it is he who\ntaught it to his pupils this morning; and I heard him, south of\nEmain, and I came to you then.\"\n\n'\"The day is good thus,\" said Cathbad; \"it is certain he will be\nfamous and renowned, who shall take arms therein; but he will be\nshort-lived only.\"\n\n'\"A wonder of might,\" said Cuchulainn; \"provided I be famous, I am\ncontent though I were but one day in the world.\"\n\n'Another day a certain man asked the druids what it is for which\nthat day was good.\n\n'\"Whoever shall go into a chariot therein,\" said Cathbad, \"his name\nshall be over Ireland for ever.\"\n\n'Then Cuchulainn heard this; he comes to Conchobar and said to him:\n\"O friend Conchobar,\" said he, \"give me a chariot.\" He gave him a\nchariot. He put his hand between the two poles [Note: The _fertais_\nwere poles sticking out behind the chariot, as the account of the\nwild deer, later, shows.] of the chariot, so that the chariot\nbroke. He broke twelve chariots in this way. Then Conchobar's\nchariot was given to him. This withstood him. He goes then in the\nchariot, and Conchobar's charioteer with him. The charioteer (Ibor\nwas his name) turned the chariot under him. \"Come out of the\nchariot now,\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"The horses are fine, and I am fine, their little lad,\" said\nCuchulainn. \"Go forward round Emain only, and you shall have a\nreward for it.\"\n\n'So the charioteer goes, and Cuchulainn forced him then that he\nshould go on the road to greet the boys \"and that the boys might\nbless me.\"\n\n'He begged him to go on the way again. When they come, Cuchulainn\nsaid to the charioteer: \"Ply the goad on the horses,\" said he.\n\n'\"In what direction?\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"As long as the road shall lead us,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'They come thence to Sliab Fuait, and find Conall Cernach there. It\nfell to Conall that day to guard the province; for every hero of\nUlster was in Sliab Fuait in turn, to protect any one who should\ncome with poetry, or to fight against a man; so that it should be\nthere that there should be some one to encounter him, that no one\nshould go to Emain unperceived.\n\n'\"May that be for prosperity,\" said Conall; \"may it be for victory\nand triumph.\"\n\n'\"Go to the fort, O Conall, and leave me to watch here now,\" said\nCuchulainn.\n\n'\"It will be enough,\" said Conall, \"if it is to protect any one\nwith poetry; if it is to fight against a man, it is early for you\nyet.\"\n\n'\"Perhaps it may not be necessary at all,\" said Cuchulainn. \"Let us\ngo meanwhile,\" said Cuchulainn, \"to look upon the edge of Loch\nEchtra. Heroes are wont to abide there.\"\n\n'\"I am content,\" said Conall.\n\n'Then they go thence. He throws a stone from his sling, so that a\npole of Conall Cernach's chariot breaks.\n\n'\"Why have you thrown the stone, O boy?\" said Conall.\n\n\"To try my hand and the straightness of my throw,\" said Cuchulainn;\n\"and it is the custom with you Ulstermen, that you do not travel\nbeyond your peril. Go back to Emain, O friend Conall, and leave me\nhere to watch.\"\n\n'\"Content, then,\" said Conall.\n\n'Conall Cernach did not go past the place after that. Then\nCuchulainn goes forth to Loch Echtra, and they found no one there\nbefore them. The charioteer said to Cuchulainn that they should go\nto Emain, that they might be in time for the drinking there.\n\n'\"No,\" said Cuchulainn. \"What mountain is it yonder?\" said\nCuchulainn.\n\n'\"Sliab Monduirn,\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"Let us go and get there,\" said Cuchulainn. They go then till\nthey reach it. When they had reached the mountain, Cuchulainn\nasked: \"What is the white cairn yonder on the top of the\nmountain?\"\n\n'\"Find Carn,\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"What plain is that over there?\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'\"Mag Breg,\" said the charioteer. He tells him then the name of\nevery chief fort between Temair and Cenandas. He tells him first\ntheir meadows and their fords, their famous places and their\ndwellings, their fortresses and their high hills. He shows [Note:\nReading with YBL.] him then the fort of the three sons of Nechta\nScene; Foill, Fandall, and Tuachell were their names.\n\n'\"Is it they who say,\" said Cuchulainn, \"that there are not more\nof the Ulstermen alive than they have slain of them?\"\n\n'\"It is they indeed,\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"Let us go till we reach them,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'\"Indeed it is peril to us,\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"Truly it is not to avoid it that we go,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Then they go forth and unharness their horses at the meeting of\nthe bog and the river, to the south above the fort of the others;\nand he threw the withe that was on the pillar as far as he could\nthrow into the river and let it go with the stream, for this was a\nbreach of _geis_ to the sons of Nechta Scene. They perceive it\nthen, and come to them. Cuchulainn goes to sleep by the pillar\nafter throwing the withe at the stream; and he said to the\ncharioteer: \"Do not waken me for few; but waken me for many.\"\n\n'Now the charioteer was very frightened, and he made ready their\nchariot and pulled its coverings and skins which were over\nCuchulainn; for he dared not waken him, because Cuchulainn told him\nat first that he should not waken him for a few.\n\n'Then come the sons of Nechta Scene.\n\n'\"Who is it who is there?\" said one of them.\n\n'\"A little boy who has come to-day into the chariot for an\nexpedition,\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"May it not be for his happiness,\" said the champion; \"and may it\nnot be for his prosperity, his first taking of arms. Let him not be\nin our land, and let the horses not graze there any more,\" said the\nchampion.\n\n'\"Their reins are in my hands,\" said the charioteer.\n\n\n'\"It should not be yours to earn hatred,\" said Ibar to the\nchampion; \"and the boy is asleep.\"\n\n'\"I am not a boy at all,\" said Cuchulainn; \"but it is to seek\nbattle with a man that the boy who is here has come.\"\n\n'\"That pleases me well,\" said the champion.\n\n'\"It will please you now in the ford yonder,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'\"It befits you,\" said the charioteer, \"take heed of the man who\ncomes against you. Foill is his name,\" said he; \"for unless you\nreach him in the first thrust, you will not reach him till\nevening.\"\n\n'\"I swear by the god by whom my people swear, he will not ply his\nskill on the Ulstermen again, if the broad spear of my friend\nConchobar should reach him from my hand. It will be an outlaw's\nhand to him.\"\n\n'Then he cast the spear at him, so that his back broke. He took\nwith him his accoutrements and his head.\n\n'\"Take heed of another man,\" said the charioteer, \"Fandall [Note:\ni.e. 'Swallow.'] is his name. Not more heavily does he traverse(?)\nthe water than swan or swallow.\"\n\n'\"I swear that he will not ply that feat again on the Ulstermen,\"\nsaid Cuchulainn. \"You have seen,\" said he, \"the way I travel the\npool at Emain.\"\n\n'They meet then in the ford. Cuchulainn kills that man, and took\nhis head and his arms.\n\n'\"Take heed of another man who comes towards you,\" said the\ncharioteer. \"Tuachell [Note: i.e. 'Cunning.'] is his name. It is no\nmisname for him, for he does not fall by arms at all.\"\n\n'\"Here is the javelin for him to confuse him, so that it may make\na red-sieve of him,\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'He cast the spear at him, so that it reached him in his ----. Then\nHe went to him and cut off his head. Cuchulainn gave his head and\nhis accoutrements to his own charioteer. He heard then the cry of\ntheir mother, Nechta Scene, behind them.\n\n'He puts their spoils and the three heads in his chariot with him,\nand said: \"I will not leave my triumph,\" said he, \"till I reach\nEmain Macha.\" 'then they set out with his triumph.\n\n'Then Cuchulainn said to the charioteer: \"You promised us a good\nrun,\" said he, \"and we need it now because of the strife and the\npursuit that is behind us.\" They go on to Sliab Fuait; and such was\nthe speed of the run that they made over Breg after the spurring of\nthe charioteer, that the horses of the chariot overtook the wind\nand the birds in flight, and that Cuchulainn caught the throw that\nhe sent from his sling before it reached the ground.\n\n'When they reached Sliab Fuait, they found a herd of wild deer\nthere before them.\n\n'\"What are those cattle yonder so active?\" said Cuchulainn.\n\n'\"Wild deer,\" said the charioteer.\n\n'\"Which would the Ulstermen think best,\" said Cuchulainn, \"to bring\nthem dead or alive?\"\n\n'\"It is more wonderful alive,\" said the charioteer; \"it is not\nevery one who can do it so. Dead, there is not one of them who\ncannot do it. You cannot do this, to carry off any of them alive,\"\nsaid the charioteer.\n\n'\"I can indeed,\" said Cuchulainn. \"Ply the goad on the horses into\nthe bog.\"\n\n'The charioteer does this. The horses stick in the bog. Cuchulainn\nsprang down and seized the deer that was nearest, and that was the\nfinest of them. He lashed the horses through the bog, and overcame\nthe deer at once, and bound it between the two poles of the chariot.\n\n'They saw something again before them, a flock of swans.\n\n'\"Which would the Ulstermen think best,\" said Cuchulainn, \"to have\nthem dead or alive?\"\n\n'\"All the most vigorous and finest(?) bring them alive,\" said the\ncharioteer.\n\n'Then Cuchulainn aims a small stone at the birds, so that he struck\neight of the birds. He threw again a large stone, so that he struck\ntwelve of them. All that was done by his return stroke.\n\n\"Collect the birds for us,\" said Cuchulainn to his charioteer. \"If\nit is I who go to take them,\" said he, \"the wild deer will spring\nupon you.\"\n\n'\"It is not easy for me to go to them,\" said the charioteer. \"The\nhorses have become wild so that I cannot go past them. I cannot go\npast the two iron tyres [Interlinear gloss, _fonnod_. The _fonnod_\nwas some part of the rim of the wheel apparently.] of the chariot,\nbecause of their sharpness; and I cannot go past the deer, for his\nhorn has filled all the space between the two poles of the chariot.\"\n\n'\"Step from its horn,\" said Cuchulainn. \"I swear by the god by whom\nthe Ulstermen swear, the bending with which I will bend my head on\nhim, and the eye that I will make at him, he will not turn his head\non you, and he will not dare to move.\"\n\n\n'That was done then. Cuchulainn made fast the reins, and the\ncharioteer collects the birds. Then Cuchulainn bound the birds from\nthe strings and thongs of the chariot; so that it was thus he went\nto Emain Macha: the wild deer behind his chariot, and the flock of\nswans flying over it, and the three heads in his chariot. Then they\ncome to Emain.\n\n\"A man in a chariot is coming to you,\" said the watchman in Emain\nMacha; \"he will shed the blood of every man who is in the court,\nunless heed is taken, and unless naked women go to him.\"\n\n'Then he turned the left side of his chariot towards Emain, and\nthat was a _geis_ [Note: i.e. it was an insult.] to it; and\nCuchulainn said: \"I swear by the god by whom the Ulstermen swear,\nunless a man is found to fight with me, I will shed the blood of\nevery one who is in the fort.\"\n\n'\"Naked women to meet him!\" said Conchobar.\n\n'Then the women of Emain go to meet him with Mugain, the wife of\nConchobar Mac Nessa, and bare their breasts before him. \"These are\nthe warriors who will meet you to-day,\" said Mugain.\n\n'He covers his face; then the heroes of Emain seize him and throw\nhim into a vessel of cold water. That vessel bursts round him. The\nsecond vessel into which he was thrown boiled with bubbles as big\nas the fist therefrom. The third vessel into which he went, he\nwarmed it so that its heat and its cold were rightly tempered. Then\nhe comes out; and the queen, Mugain, puts a blue mantle on him, and\na silver brooch therein, and a hooded tunic; and he sits at\nConchobar's knee, and that was his couch always after that. The man\nwho did this in his seventh year,' said Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe, 'it\nwere not wonderful though he should rout an overwhelming force, and\nthough he should exhaust (?) an equal force, when his seventeen\nyears are complete to-day.'\n\n\n(What follows is a separate version [Note: The next episode, the\nDeath of Fraech, is not given in LL.] to the death of Orlam.)\n\n'Let us go forth now,' said Ailill.\n\nThen they reached Mag Mucceda. Cuchulainn cut an oak before them\nthere, and wrote an ogam in its side. It is this that was therein:\nthat no one should go past it till a warrior should leap it with\none chariot. They pitch their tents there, and come to leap over it\nin their chariots. There fall thereat thirty horses, and thirty\nchariots are broken. Belach n-Ane, that is the name of that place\nfor ever.\n\n\n_The Death of Fraech_\n\nThey are there till next morning; then Fraech is summoned to them.\n'Help us, O Fraech,' said Medb. 'Remove from us the strait that is\non us. Go before Cuchulainn for us, if perchance you shall fight\nwith him.'\n\nHe set out early in the morning with nine men, till he reached Ath\nFuait. He saw the warrior bathing in the river.\n\n'Wait here,' said Fraech to his retinue, 'till I come to the man\nyonder; not good is the water,' said he.\n\nHe took off his clothes, and goes into the water to him.\n\n'Do not come to me,' said Cuchulainn. 'You will die from it, and I\nshould be sorry to kill you.'\n\n'I shall come indeed,' said Fraech, 'that we may meet in the water;\nand let your play with me be fair.'\n\n'Settle it as you like,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'The hand of each of us round the other,' said Fraech.\n\nThey set to wrestling for a long time on the water, and Fraech was\nsubmerged. Cuchulainn lifted him up again.\n\n'This time,' said Cuchulainn, 'will you yield and accept your\nlife?' [Note: Lit. 'will you acknowledge your saving?']\n\n'I will not suffer it,' said Fraech.\n\nCuchulainn put him under it again, until Fraech was killed. He\ncomes to land; his retinue carry his body to the camp. Ath Fraich,\nthat was the name of that ford for ever. All the host lamented\nFraech. They saw a troop of women in green tunics [Note: Fraech was\ndescended from the people of the Sid, his mother Bebind being a\nfairy woman. Her sister was Boinn (the river Boyne).] on the body\nof Fraech Mac Idaid; they drew him from them into the mound. Sid\nFraich was the name of that mound afterwards.\n\nFergus springs over the oak in his chariot. They go till they reach\nAth Taiten; Cuchulainn destroys six of them there: that is, the six\nDungals of Irress.\n\nThen they go on to Fornocht. Medb had a whelp named Baiscne.\nCuchulainn throws a cast at him, and took his head off. Druim was\nthe name of that place henceforth.\n\n'Great is the mockery to you,' said Medb, 'not to hunt the deer\nof misfortune yonder that is killing you.'\n\nThen they start hunting him, till they broke the shafts of their\nchariots thereat.\n\n\n_The Death of Orlam_\n\nThey go forth then over Iraird Culend in the morning. Cuchulainn\nwent forward; he overtook the charioteer of Orlam, son of Ailill\nand Medb, in Tamlacht Orlaim, a little to the north of Disert\nLochait, cutting wood there. (According to another version, it is\nThe shaft of Cuchulainn's chariot that had broken, and it is to cut\na shaft that he had gone when he met Orlam's charioteer. It is the\ncharioteer who cut the shafts according to this version.)\n\n'It is over-bold what the Ulstermen are doing, if it is they who\nare yonder,' said Cuchulainn, 'while the host is behind them.' He\ngoes to the charioteer to reprove him; he thought that he was of\nUlster, and he saw the man cutting wood, that is the chariot shaft.\n\n'What are you doing here?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Cutting chariot-shafts,' said the charioteer. 'We have broken our\nchariots hunting the wild deer Cuchulainn yonder. Help me,' said\nthe charioteer. 'Look only whether you are to select the shafts, or\nto strip them.'\n\n'It will be to strip them indeed,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nThen Cuchulainn stripped the shafts through his fingers in the\npresence of the other, so that he cleared them both of bark and\nknots.\n\n'This cannot be your proper work that I put on you,' said the\ncharioteer; he was greatly afraid.\n\n'Whence are you?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'The charioteer of Orlam, son of Ailill and Medb,' said he. 'And\nyou?' said the charioteer.\n\n'My name is Cuchulainn,' said he.\n\n'Alas!' said the charioteer.\n\n'Fear nothing,' said Cuchulainn. 'Where is your master?' said he.\n\n'He is in the trench yonder,' said the charioteer.\n\n'Go forth then with me,' said Cuchulainn, 'for I do not kill\ncharioteers at all.'\n\nCuchulainn goes to Orlam, kills him, cuts his head off, and shakes\nhis head before the host. Then he puts the head on the charioteer's\nback, and said to him:\n\n'Take that with you,' said Cuchulainn, 'and go to the camp thus. If\nyou do not go thus, a stone will come to you from my sling.'\n\nWhen he got near the camp, he took the head from his back, and told\nhis adventures to Ailill and Medb.\n\n'This is not like taking birds,' said she.\n\nAnd he said, 'Unless I brought it on my back to the camp, he would\nbreak my head with a stone.'\n\n\n_The Death of the Meic Garach_\n\nThen the Meic Garach waited on their ford. These are their names:\nLon and Ualu and Diliu; and Mes-Ler, and Mes-Laech, and Mes-Lethan\nwere their three charioteers. They thought it too much what\nCuchulainn had done: to slay two foster-sons of the king, and his\nson, and to shake the head before the host. They would slay\nCuchulainn in return for him, and would themselves remove this\nannoyance from the host. They cut three aspen wands for their\ncharioteers, that the six of them should pursue combat against him.\nHe killed them all then, because they had broken fair-play towards\nhim.\n\nOrlam's charioteer was then between Ailill and Medb. Cuchulainn\nhurled a stone at him, [Note: Apparently because the charioteer had\nnot carried Orlam's head into the camp on his back. Or an\nalternative version.] so that his head broke, and his brains came\nover his ears; Fertedil was his name. (Thus it is not true that\nCuchulainn did not kill charioteers; howbeit, he did not kill them\nwithout fault.)\n\n\n_The Death of the Squirrel_\n\nCuchulainn threatened in Methe, that wherever he should see Ailill\nor Medb afterwards he would throw a stone from his sling at them.\nHe did this then: he threw a stone from his sling, so that he\nkilled the squirrel that was on Medb's shoulder south of the ford:\nhence is Methe Togmaill. And he killed the bird that was on\nAilill's shoulder north of the ford: hence is Methe n-Eoin. (Or it\nis on Medb's shoulder that both squirrel and bird were together,\nand it is their heads that were struck from them by the casts.)\n\n\nReoin was drowned in his lake. Hence is Loch Reoin.\n\n\n'That other is not far from you,' said Ailill to the Manes.\n\nThey arose and looked round. When they sat down again, Cuchulainn\nstruck one of them, so that his head broke.\n\n'It was well that you went for that: your boasting was not\nfitting,' said Maenen the fool. 'I would have taken his head off.'\n\nCuchulainn threw a stone at him, so that his head broke. It is thus\nthen that these were killed: Orlam in the first place on his hill;\nthe Meic Garach on their ford; Fertedil in his ---; Maenan in his\nhill.\n\n'I swear by the god by whom my people swear,' said Ailill, 'that\nman who shall make a mock of Cuchulainn here, I will make two\nhalves of him.'\n\n'Go forth for us both day and night,' said Ailill, 'till we reach\nCualnge. That man will kill two-thirds of the host in this way.' It\nis there that the harpers of the _Cainbili_ [Note: Reference\nobscure. They were wizards of some sort.] from Ossory came to them\nto amuse them. They thought it was from the Ulstermen to spy on\nthem. They set to hunting them, till they went before them in the\nforms of deer into the stones at Liac Mor on the north. For they\nwere wizards with great cunning.\n\n\n_The Death of Lethan_\n\n\nLethan came on to his ford on the Nith (?) in Conaille. He waited\nhimself to meet Cuchulainn. It vexed him what Cuchulainn had done.\nCuchulainn cuts off his head and left it, hence it is Ath Lethan on\nthe Nith. And their chariots broke in the battle on the ford by\nhim; hence it is Ath Carpat. Mulcha, Lethan's charioteer, fell on\nthe shoulder of the hill that is between them; hence is Gulo\nMulchai. While the hosts were going over Mag Breg, he struck(?)\ntheir ---- still. [Note: 2 Something apparently missing here. The\npassage in LL is as follows: 'It is the same day that the Morrigan,\ndaughter of Ernmas, came from the Sid, so that she was on the\npillar in Temair Cuailnge, taking a warning to the Dun of Cualnge\nbefore the men of Ireland, and she began to speak to him, and\n\"Good, O wretched one, O Dun of Cualnge,\" said the Morrigan, \"keep\nwatch, for the men of Ireland have reached thee, and they will take\nthee to their camp unless thou keepest watch\"; and she began to\ntake a warning to him thus, and uttered her words on high.' (The\nRhetoric follows as in LU.)]\n\nYet that was the Morrigan in the form of a bird on the pillar in\nTemair Cuailnge; and she spoke to the Bull:\n\n        'Does the Black know,' etc. [Note: A Rhetoric.]\n\nThen the Bull went, and fifty heifers with him, to Sliab Culind;\nand his keeper, Forgemen by name, went after him. He threw off the\nthree fifties of boys who used always to play on him, and he killed\ntwo-thirds of his boys, and dug a trench in Tir Marcceni in Cualnge\nbefore he went.\n\n\n_The Death of Lochu_\n\nCuchulainn killed no one from the Saile ind Orthi (?) in the\nConaille territory, until they reached Cualnge. Cuchulainn was then\nin Cuince; he threatened then that when he saw Medb he would throw\na stone at her head. This was not easy to him, for it is thus that\nMedb went and half the host about her, with their shelter of\nshields over her head.\n\nThen a waiting-woman of Medb's, Lochu by name, went to get water,\nand a great troop of women with her. Cuchulainn thought it was\nMedb. He threw two stones from Cuince, so that he slew her in her\nplain(?). Hence is Ath Rede Locha in Cualnge.\n\nFrom Findabair Cuailnge the hosts divided, and they set the country\non fire. They collect all there were of women, and boys, and\nmaidens; and cattle, in Cualnge together, so that they were all in\nFindabair.\n\n'You have not gone well,' said Medb; 'I do not see the Bull with\nyou.'\n\n'He is not in the province at all,' said every one.\n\nLothar the cowherd is summoned to Medb.\n\n'Where is the Bull?' said she. 'Have you an idea?'\n\n'I have great fear to tell it,' said the herd. 'The night,' said\nhe, 'when the Ulstermen went into their weakness, he went with\nthree twenties of heifers with him, so that he is at the Black\nCorrie of Glenn Gatt.'\n\n'Go,' said Medb, 'and carry a withe [Note: Ir. _gatt_, a withe.]\nbetween each two of you.'\n\nThey do this: hence this glen is called Glenn Gatt. Then they bring\nthe Bull to Findabair. The place where he saw the herd, Lothar, he\nattacked him, so that he brought his entrails out on his horns; and\nhe attacked the camp with his three fifties of heifers, so that\nfifty warriors were killed. And that is the death of Lothar on the\nForay.\n\nThen the Bull went from them out of the camp, and they knew not\nwhere he had gone from them; and they were ashamed. Medb asked the\nherd if he had an idea where the Bull was.\n\n'I think he would be in the secret places of Sliab Culind.'\n\nWhen they returned thus after ravaging Cualnge, and did not find\nthe Bull there. The river Cronn rose against them to the tops of\nthe trees; and they spent the night by it. And Medb told part of\nher following to go across.\n\nA wonderful warrior went next day, Ualu his name. He took a great\nstone on his back to go across the water; the stream drove him\nbackwards with the stone on his back. His grave and his stone are\non the road at the stream: Lia Ualand is its name.\n\nThey went round the river Cronn to the source, and they would have\ngone between the source and the mountain, only that they could not\nget leave from Medb; she preferred to go across the mountain, that\ntheir track might remain there for ever, for an insult to the\nUlstermen. They waited there three days and three nights, till they\ndug the earth in front of them, the Bernas Bo Cuailnge.\n\nIt is there that Cuchulainn killed Crond and Coemdele and ----\n[Note: Obscure.]. A hundred warriors ---- [Note: Obscure.] died with\nRoan and Roae, the two historians of the Foray. A hundred and\nforty-four, kings died by him at the same stream. They came then\nover the Bernas Bo Cuailnge with the cattle and stock of Cualnge,\nand spent the night in Glenn Dail Imda in Cualnge. Botha is the\nname of this place, because they made huts over them there. They\ncome next day to Colptha. They try to cross it through heedlessness.\nIt rose against them then, and it carries a hundred charioteers\nof them to the sea; this is the name of the land in which they\nwere drowned, Cluain Carptech.\n\nThey go round Colptha then to its source, to Belat Alioin, and\nspent the night at Liasa Liac; that is the name of this place,\nbecause they made sheds over their calves there between Cualnge and\nConaille. They came over Glenn Gatlaig, and Glass Gatlaig rose\nagainst them. Sechaire was its name before; Glass Gatlaig\nthenceforth, because it was in withes they brought their calves;\nand they slept at Druim Fene in Conaille. (Those then are the\nwanderings from Cualnge to Machaire according to this version.)\n\n\n_This is the Harrying of Cualnge_\n\n(Other authors and books make it that another way was taken on\ntheir journeyings from Findabair to Conaille, as follows:\n\nMedb said after every one had come with their booty, so that they\nwere all in Findabair Cuailnge: 'Let the host be divided,' said\nMedb; 'it will be impossible to bring this expedition by one way.\nLet Ailill go with half the expedition by Midluachair; Fergus and I\nwill go by Bernas Ulad.' [Note: YBL. Bernas Bo n-Ulad.]\n\n'It is not fine,' said Fergus, 'the half of the expedition that has\nfallen to us. It will be impossible to bring the cattle over the\nmountain without dividing it.'\n\nThat was done then, so that it is from that there is Bernas Bo n-Ulad.)\n\nIt is there then that Ailill said to his charioteer Cuillius: 'Find\nout for me to-day Medb and Fergus. I know not what has brought them\nto this union. I shall be pleased that a token should come to me by\nyou.'\n\nCuillius came when they were in Cluichre. The pair remained behind,\nand the warriors went on. Cuillius came to them, and they heard not\nthe spy. Fergus' sword happened to be beside him. Cuillius drew it\nout of its sheath, and left the sheath empty. Cuillius came to\nAilill.\n\n'So?' said Ailill.\n\n'So indeed,' said Cuillius; 'there is a token for you.'\n\n'It is well,' said Ailill.\n\nEach of them smiles at the other.\n\n'As you thought,' said Cuillius, 'it is thus that I found them, in\none another's arms.'\n\n'It is right for her,' said Ailill; 'it is for help on the Foray\nthat she has done it. See that the sword is kept in good condition,'\nsaid Ailill. 'Put it under your seat in the chariot, and a cloth of\nlinen around it.'\n\nFergus got up for his sword after that.\n\n'Alas!' said he.\n\n'What is the matter with you?' said Medb.\n\n\n'An ill deed have I done to Ailill,' said he. 'Wait here, while I\ngo into the wood,' said Fergus; 'and do not wonder though it be\nlong till I come.'\n\nIt happened that Medb knew not the loss of the sword. He goes\nthence, and takes the sword of his charioteer with him in his hand.\nHe makes a wooden sword in the wood. Hence there is Fid Mor Drualle\nin Ulster.\n\n'Let us go on after our comrades,' said Fergus. All their hosts\nmeet in the plain. They pitch their tents. Fergus is summoned to\nAilill to play chess. When Fergus went to the tent, Ailill began to\nlaugh at him. [Note: Here follows about two columns of rhetoric,\nconsisting of a taunting dialogue between Ailill, Fergus and Medb.]\n\n***\n\nCuchulainn came so that he was at Ath Cruinn before them.\n\n'O friend Loeg,' said he to his charioteer, 'the hosts are at hand\nto us.'\n\n'I swear by the gods,' said the charioteer, 'I will do a mighty\nfeat before warriors ... on slender steeds with yokes of silver,\nwith golden wheels ...'\n\n'Take heed, O Loeg,' said Cuchulainn; 'hold the reins for great\nvictory of Macha ... I beseech,' said Cuchulainn, 'the waters to\nhelp me. I beseech heaven and earth, and the Cronn in particular.'\n\nThe (river) Cronn takes to fighting against them; it will not let\nthem into Murthemne until the work of heroes be finished in Sliab\nTuath Ochaine.\n\nTherewith the water rose up till it was in the tops of the trees.\n\nMane, son of Ailill and Medb, went before the rest. Cuchulainn\nsmites them on the ford, and thirty horsemen of Mane's retinue were\ndrowned in the water. Cuchulainn overthrew two sixteens of warriors\nof them again by the water.\n\nThey pitch their tents at that ford. Lugaid Mac Nois, descendant of\nLomarc Allchomach, came to speak to Cuchulainn, with thirty\nhorsemen.\n\n'Welcome, O Lugaid,' said Cuchulainn. 'If a flock of birds graze\nupon Mag Murthemne, you shall have a duck with half of another; if\nfish come to the estuaries, you shall have a salmon with half of\nanother. You shall have the three sprigs, the sprig of watercress,\nand the sprig of marshwort, and the sprig of seaweed. You shall\nhave a man in the ford in your place.' [Note: This and the\nfollowing speech are apparently forms of greeting. Cuchulainn\noffers Lugaid such hospitality as lies in his power. See a similar\nspeech later to Fergus.]\n\n'I believe it,' said Lugaid. 'Excellence of people to the boy whom\nI desire.'\n\n'Your hosts are fine,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nIt would not be sad for you alone before them,' said Lugaid.\n\n'Fair-play and valour will support me,' said Cuchulainn. 'O friend\nLugaid, do the hosts fear me?'\n\n'I swear by God,' said Lugaid, 'one man nor two dare not go out of\nthe camp, unless it be in twenties or thirties.'\n\n'It will be something extra for them,' said Cuchulainn, 'if I take\nto throwing from the sling. Fitting for you will be this fellow-vassal,\nO Lugaid, that you have among the Ulstermen, if there come to me\nthe force of every man. Say what you would have,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'That I may have a truce with you towards my host.'\n\n'You shall have it, provided there be a token on it. And tell my\nfriend Fergus that there be a token on his host. Tell the\nphysicians, let there be a token on their host. And let them swear\npreservation of life to me, and let there come to me provision\nevery night from them.'\n\nThen Lugaid goes from him. Fergus happened to be in the tent with\nAilill. Lugaid called him out, and told him this. Something was\nheard, namely Ailill. ... [Note: Rhetoric, six lines, the substance\nof which is, apparently, that Ailill asks protection also.]\n\n'I swear by God I cannot do it,' said Lugaid, 'unless I ask the boy\nAgain.'\n\n'Help me, [Note: Spoken by Fergus?] O Lugaid, go to him to see\nwhether Ailill may come with a cantred into my troop. Take an ox\nwith bacon to him and a jar of wine.'\n\nHe goes to Cuchulainn then and tells him this.\n\n'I do not mind though he go,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nThen their two troops join. They are there till night. Cuchulainn\nkills thirty men of them with the sling. (Or they would be twenty\nnights there, as some books say.)\n\n'Your journeyings are bad,' said Fergus. 'The Ulstermen will come\nto you out of their weakness, and they will grind you to earth and\ngravel. \"The corner of battle\" in which we are is bad.'\n\nHe goes thence to Cul Airthir. It happened that Cuchulainn had gone\nthat night to speak to the Ulstermen [Note: In LL and Y BL this\nincident occurs later, and the messenger is Sualtaim, not\nCuchulainn. LU is clearly wrong here.]\n\n'Have you news?' said Conchobar.\n\n'Women are captured,' said Cuchulainn, 'cattle are driven away, men\nare slain.'\n\n'Who carries them off? who drives them away? who kills them?'\n\n'... Ailill Mac Matae carries them off, and Fergus Mac Roich\nvery bold ...' [Note: Rhetoric.]\n\n'It is not great profit to you,' said Conchobar, 'to-day, our\nsmiting has come to us all the same.'\n\nCuchulainn goes thence from them; he saw the hosts going forth.\n\n'Alas,' said Ailill, 'I see chariots' ..., etc [Note: Rhetoric,\nfive lines.]\n\nCuchulainn kills thirty men of them on Ath Duirn. They could not\nreach Cul Airthir then till night. He slays thirty of them there,\nand they pitch their tents there. Ailill's charioteer, Cuillius,\nwas washing the chariot tyres [Note: See previous note on the word\n_fonnod_; the word used here is _fonnod_.] in the ford in the\nmorning; Cuchulainn struck him with a stone and killed him. Hence\nis Ath Cuillne in Cul Airthir. They reach Druim Feine in Conaille\nand spent the night there, as we have said before.\n\nCuchulainn attacked them there; he slays a hundred men of them\nevery night of the three nights that they were there; he took a\nsling to them from Ochaine near them.\n\n'Our host will be short-lived through Cuchulainn in this way,' said\nAilill. 'Let an agreement be carried from us to him: that he shall\nhave the equal of Mag Murthemne from Mag Ai, and the best chariot\nthat is in Ai, and the equipment of twelve men. Offer, if it\npleases him better, the plain in which he was brought up, and three\nsevens of cumals [Note: The _cumal_ (bondmaid) was a standard of\nvalue.]; and everything that has been destroyed of his household (?)\nand cattle shall be made good, and he shall have full compensation (?),\nand let him go into my service; it is better for him than the\nservice of a sub king.'\n\n\n'Who shall go for that?'\n\n'Mac Roth yonder.'\n\nMac Roth, the messenger of Ailill and Medb, went on that errand to\nDelga: it is he who encircles Ireland in one day. It is there that\nFergus thought that Cuchulainn was, in Delga.\n\n'I see a man coming towards us,' said Loeg to Cuchulainn. 'He has\na yellow head of hair, and a linen emblem round it; a club of\nfury(?) in his hand, an ivory-hilted sword at his waist; a hooded\ntunic with red ornamentation on him.'\n\n'Which of the warriors of the king is that?' said Cuchulainn.\n\nMac Roth asked Loeg whose man he was.\n\n'Vassal to the man down yonder,' said Loeg.\n\nCuchulainn was there in the snow up to his two thighs, without\nanything at all on him, examining his shirt.\n\nThen Mac Roth asked Cuchulainn whose man he was.\n\n'Vassal of Conchobar Mac Nessa,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Is there no clearer description?'\n\n'That is enough,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Where then is Cuchulainn?' said Mac Roth.\n\n'What would you say to him?' said Cuchulainn.\n\nMac Roth tells him then all the message, as we have told it.\n\n'Though Cuchulainn were near, he would not do this; he will not\nbarter the brother of his mother for another king.'\n\nHe came to him again, and it was said to Cuchulainn that there\nshould be given over to him the noblest of the women and the cows\nthat were without milk, on condition that he should not ply his\nsling on them at night, even if he should kill them by day.\n\n'I will not do it,' said Cuchulainn; 'if our slavewomen are taken\nfrom us, our noble women will be at the querns; and we shall be\nwithout milk if our milch-cows are taken from us.'\n\nHe came to him again, and he was told that he should have the\nslave-women and the milch-cows.\n\n'I will not do it,' said Cuchulainn; 'the Ulstermen will take their\nslave-women to their beds, and there will be born to them a servile\noffspring, and they will use their milch-cows for meat in the\nwinter.'\n\n'Is there anything else then?' said the messenger.\n\n'There is,' said Cuchulainn; 'and I will not tell it you. It shall\nbe agreed to, if any one tell it you.'\n\n'I know it,' said Fergus; 'I know what the man tried to suggest;\nand it is no advantage to you. And this is the agreement,' said\nFergus: 'that the ford on which takes place (?) his battle and\ncombat with one man, the cattle shall not be taken thence a day and\na night; if perchance there come to him the help of the Ulstermen.\nAnd it is a marvel to me,' said Fergus, 'that it is so long till\nthey come out of their sufferings.'\n\n'It is indeed easier for us,' said Ailill, 'a man every day than a\nhundred every night.'\n\n\n_The Death of Etarcomol_\n\nThen Fergus went on this errand; Etarcomol, son of Edan [Note: Name\nuncertain. YBL has Eda, LL Feda.] and Lethrinne, foster-son of\nAilill and Medb, followed.\n\n'I do not want you to go,' said Fergus, 'and it is not for hatred\nof you; but I do not like combat between you and Cuchulainn. Your\npride and insolence, and the fierceness and hatred, pride and\nmadness of the other, Cuchulainn: there will be no good from your\nmeeting.'\n\n'Are you not able to protect me from him?' said Etarcomol.\n\n'I can,' said Fergus, 'provided only that you do not treat his,\nsayings with disrespect.'\n\nThey go thence in two chariots to Delga. Cuchulainn was then\nplaying chess [Note: _Buanfach_, like _fidchell_, is apparently a\ngame something like chess or draughts.] with Loeg; the back of his\nhead was towards them, and Loeg's face.\n\n'I see two chariots coming towards us,' said Loeg; 'a great dark\nman in the first chariot, with dark and bushy hair; a purple cloak\nround him, and a golden pin therein; a hooded tunic with gold\nembroidery on him; and a round shield with an engraved edge of\nwhite metal, and a broad spear-head, with rings from point to\nhaft(?), in his hand. A sword as long as the rudder of a boat on\nhis two thighs.'\n\n'It is empty, this great rudder that is brought by my friend\nFergus,' said Cuchulainn; 'for there is no sword in its sheath\nexcept a sword of wood. It has been told to me,' said Cuchulainn;\n'Ailill got a chance of them as they slept, he and Medb; and he\ntook away his sword from Fergus, and gave it to his charioteer to\ntake care of, and the sword of wood was put into its sheath.'\n\nThen Fergus comes up.\n\n'Welcome, O friend Fergus,' said Cuchulainn; 'if a fish comes\ninto the estuary, you shall have it with half of another; if a\nflock comes into the plain, you shall have a duck with half of\nanother; a spray of cress or seaweed, a spray of marshwort; a drink\nfrom the sand; you shall have a going to the ford to meet a man, if\nit should happen to be your watch, till you have slept.'\n\n'I believe it,' said Fergus; 'it is not your provision that we have\ncome for; we know your housekeeping here.'\n\nThen Cuchulainn receives the message from Fergus; anti Fergus goes\naway. Etarcomol remains looking at Cuchulainn.\n\n'What are you looking at?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'You,' said Etarcomol.\n\n'The eye soon compasses it indeed,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'That is what I see,' said Etarcomol. 'I do not know at all why you\nshould be feared by any one. I do not see terror or fearfulness, or\noverwhelming of a host, in you; you are merely a fair youth with\narms of wood, and with fine feats.'\n\n'Though you speak ill of me,' said Cuchulainn, 'I will not kill you\nfor the sake of Fergus. But for your protection, it would have been\nyour entrails drawn (?) and your quarters scattered, that would\nhave gone from me to the camp behind your chariot.'\n\n'Threaten me not thus,' said Etarcomol. 'The wonderful agreement\nthat he has bound, that is, the single combat, it is I who will\nfirst meet you of the men of Ireland to-morrow.'\n\nThen he goes away. He turned back from Methe and Cethe and said to\nhis charioteer:\n\n'I have boasted,' said he, 'before Fergus combat with Cuchulainn\nto-morrow. It is not possible for us [Note: YBL reading.] to wait\nfor it; turn the horses back again from the hill.'\n\nLoeg sees this and says to Cuchulainn: 'There is the chariot back\nagain, and it has put its left board [Note: An insult.] towards us.'\n\n'It is not a \"debt of refusal,\"' said Cuchulainn. 'I do not wish,'\nsaid Cuchulainn, 'what you demand of me.'\n\n'This is obligatory to you,' said Etarcomol.\n\nCuchulainn strikes the sod under his feet, so that he fell\nprostrate, and the sod behind him.\n\n'Go from me,' said Cuchulainn. 'I am loath to cleanse my hands in\nyou. I would have divided you into many parts long since but for\nFergus.'\n\n\n'We will not part thus,' said Etarcomol, 'till I have taken your\nhead, or left my head with you.'\n\n'It is that indeed that will be there,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nCuchulainn strikes him with his sword in his two armpits, so that\nhis clothes fell from him, and it did not wound his skin.\n\n'Go then,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n\n'No,' said Etarcomol.\n\nThen Cuchulainn attacked him with the edge of his sword, and took\nhis hair off as if it was shaved with a razor; he did not put even\na scratch (?) on the surface. When the churl was troublesome then\nand stuck to him, he struck him on the hard part of his crown, so\nthat he divided him down to the navel.\n\nFergus saw the chariot go past him, and the one man therein. He\nturned to quarrel with Cuchulainn.\n\n'Ill done of you, O wild boy!' said he, 'to insult me. You would\nthink my club [Note: Or 'track'?] short,' said he.\n\n'Be not angry with me, O friend Fergus,' said Cuchulainn ... [Note:\nRhetoric, five lines.] 'Reproach me not, O friend Fergus.'\n\nHe stoops down, so that Fergus's chariot went past him thrice.\n\nHe asked his charioteer: 'Is it I who have caused it?'\n\n'It is not you at all,' said his charioteer.\n\n'He said,' said Cuchulainn, 'he would not go till he took my head,\nor till he left his head with me. Which would you think easier to\nbear, O friend Fergus?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'I think what has been done the easier truly,' said Fergus, 'for it\nis he who was insolent.'\n\nThen Fergus put a spancel-withe through Etarcomol's two heels and\ntook him behind his own chariot to the camp. When they went over\nrocks, one-half would separate from the other; when it was smooth,\nthey came together again.\n\nMedb saw him. 'Not pleasing is that treatment of a tender whelp, O\nFergus,' said Medb.\n\n'The dark churl should not have made fight,' said Fergus, 'against\nthe great Hound whom he could not contend with (?).'\n\nHis grave is dug then and his stone planted; his name is written in\nogam; his lament is celebrated. Cuchulainn did not molest them that\nnight with his sling; and the women and maidens and half the cattle\nare taken to him; and provision continued to be brought to him by day.\n\n\n_The Death of Nadcrantail_\n\n'What man have you to meet Cuchulainn tomorrow?' said Lugaid.\n\n'They will give it to you to-morrow,' said Mane, son of Ailill.\n\n'We can find no one to meet him,' said Medb. 'Let us have peace\nwith him till a man be sought for him.'\n\nThey get that then.\n\n'Whither will you send,' said Ailill, 'to seek that man to meet\nCuchulainn?'\n\n'There is no one in Ireland who could be got for him,' said Medb,\n'unless Curoi Mac Dare can be brought, or Nadcrantail the warrior.'\n\nThere was one of Curoi's followers in the tent. 'Curoi will not\ncome,' said he; 'he thinks enough of his household has come. Let a\nmessage be sent to Nadcrantail.'\n\nMane Andoi goes to him, and they tell their tale to him.\n\n'Come with us for the sake of the honour of Connaught.'\n\n'I will not go,' said he, 'unless Findabair be given to me.'\n\nHe comes with them then. They bring his armour in a chariot, from\nthe east of Connaught till it was in the camp.\n\n'You shall have Findabair,' said Medb, 'for going against that man\nyonder.'\n\n'I will do it,' said he.\n\nLugaid comes to Cuchulainn that night.\n\n'Nadcrantail is coming to meet you to-morrow; it is unlucky for\nyou: you will not withstand him.'\n\n'That does not matter,' said Cuchulainn. ... [Note: Corrupt.]\n\nNadcrantail goes next morning from the camp, and he takes nine\nspits of holly, sharpened and burned. Now Cuchulainn was there\ncatching birds, and his chariot near him. Nadcrantail throws a\nspear at Cuchulainn; Cuchulainn performed a feat on to the point of\nthat spear, and it did not hinder him from catching the birds. The\nsame with the eight other spears. When he throws the ninth spear,\nthe flock flies from Cuchulainn, and he went after the flock. He\ngoes on the points of the spears like a bird, from each spear to\nthe next, pursuing the birds that they should not escape. It seemed\nto every one, however, that it was in flight that Cuchulainn went\nbefore Nadcrantail.\n\n'Your Cuchulainn yonder,' said he, 'has gone in flight before me.'\n\n'That is of course,' said Medb; 'if good warriors should come to\nhim, the wild boy would not resist ----.'\n\nThis vexed Fergus and the Ulstermen; Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe comes from\nthem to remonstrate with Cuchulainn.\n\n'Tell him,' said Fergus, 'it was noble to be before the warriors\nwhile he did brave deeds. It is more noble for him,' said Fergus,\n'to hide himself when he flees before one man, for it were not\ngreater shame to him than to the rest of Ulster.'\n\n'Who has boasted that?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Nadcrantail,' said Fiacha.\n\n'Though it were that that he should boast, the feat that I have\ndone before him, it was no more shame to me,' (?) said Cuchulainn.\n'He would by no means have boasted it had there been a weapon in\nhis hand. You know full well that I kill no one unarmed. Let him\ncome to-morrow,' said Cuchulainn, 'till he is between Ochaine and\nthe sea, and however early he comes, he will find me there, and I\nshall not flee before him.'\n\nCuchulainn came then to his appointed meeting-place, and he threw\nthe hem [of his cloak] round him after his night-watch, and he did\nnot perceive the pillar that was near him, of equal size with\nhimself. He embraced it under his cloak, and placed it near him.\n\nTherewith Nadcrantail came; his arms were brought with him in a\nwagon.\n\n'Where is Cuchulainn?' said he.\n\n'There he is yonder,' said Fergus.\n\n'It was not thus he appeared to me yesterday,' said Nadcrantail.\n\n'Are you Cuchulainn?'\n\n'And if I am then?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'If you are indeed,' said Nadcrantail, 'I cannot bring the head of\na little lamb to camp; I will not take the head of a beardless\nboy.'\n\n'It is not I at all,' said Cuchulainn. 'Go to him round the hill.'\n\nCuchulainn comes to Loeg: 'Smear a false beard on me,' said he;\n'I cannot get the warrior to fight me without a beard.' It was done\nfor him. He goes to meet him on the hill. 'I think that more\nfitting,' said he.\n\n'Take the right way of fighting with me,' said Nadcrantail.\n\n'You shall have it if only we know it,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'I will throw a cast at you,' said Nadcrantail, 'and do not avoid\nit.'\n\n'I will not avoid it except on high,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nNadcrantail throws a cast at him; Cuchulainn leaps on high before\nit.\n\n'You do ill to avoid my cast,' said Nadcrantail.\n\n'Avoid my throw then on high,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nCuchulainn throws the spear at him, but it was on high, so that\nfrom above it alighted in his crown, and it went through him to the\nground.\n\n'Alas! it is you are the best warrior in Ireland!' said Nadcrantail.\n'I have twenty-four sons in the camp. I will go and tell them what\nhidden treasures I have, and I will come that you may behead me,\nfor I shall die if the spear is taken out of my head.'\n\n'Good,' said Cuchulainn. 'You will come back.'\n\nNadcrantail goes to the camp then. Every one comes to meet him.\n\n'Where is the madman's head?' said every one.\n\n'Wait, O heroes, till I tell my tale to my sons, and go back that I\nmay fight with Cuchulainn.'\n\nHe goes thence to seek Cuchulainn, and throws his sword at\nCuchulainn. Cuchulainn leaps on high, so that it struck the pillar,\nand the sword broke in two. Then Cuchulainn went mad as he had done\nagainst the boys in Emain, and he springs on his shield therewith,\nand struck his head off. He strikes him again on the neck down to\nthe navel. His four quarters fall to the ground. Then Cuchulainn\nsaid this:\n\n        'If Nadcrantail has fallen,\n         It will be an increase to the strife.\n         Alas! that I cannot fight at this time\n         With Medb with a third of the host.'\n\n\nHERE IS THE FINDING OF THE BULL ACCORDING TO THIS VERSION:\n\nIt is then that Medb went with a third of the host with her to Cuib\nto seek the Bull; and Cuchulainn went after her. Now on the road of\nMidluachair she had gone to harry Ulster and Cruthne as far as Dun\nSobairche. Cuchulainn saw something: Bude Mac Bain from Sliab\nCulinn with the Bull, and fifteen heifers round him; and his force\nwas sixty men of Ailill's household, with a cloak folded round\nevery man. Cuchulainn comes to them.\n\n'Whence have you brought the cattle?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'From the mountain yonder,' said the man.'\n\n'Where are their cow-herds?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'He is as we found him,' said the man.\n\nCuchulainn made three leaps after them to seek speech with them as\nfar as the ford. It is there he said to the leader:\n\n'What is your name?' said he.\n\n'One who fears you not(?) and loves you not; Bude Mac Bain,' said\nhe.\n\n'This spear at Bude!' said Cuchulainn. He hurls at him the javelin,\nso that it went through his armpits, and one of the livers broke in\ntwo before the spear. He kills him on his ford; hence is Ath Bude.\nThe Bull is brought into the camp then. They considered then that\nit would not be difficult to deal with Cuchulainn, provided his\njavelin were got from him.\n\n\n_The Death of Redg the Satirist_\n\nIt is then that Redg, Ailill's satirist, went to him on an errand\nto seek the javelin, that is, Cuchulainn's spear.\n\n'Give me your spear,' said the satirist.\n\n'Not so,' said Cuchulainn; 'but I will give you treasure.'\n\n'I will not take it,' said the satirist.\n\nThen Cuchulainn wounded the satirist, because he would not accept\nfrom him what he offered him, and the satirist said he would take\naway his honour unless he got the javelin. Then Cuchulainn threw\nthe javelin at him, and it went right through his head.\n\n'This gift is overpowering (?),' said the satirist. Hence is Ath\nTolam Set.\n\nThere was now a ford east of it, where the copper of the javelin\nrested; Humarrith, then, is the name of that ford. It is there that\nCuchulainn killed all those that we have mentioned in Cuib; i.e.\nNathcoirpthe at his trees; Cruthen on his ford; the sons of the\nHerd at their cairn; Marc on his hill; Meille on his hill; Bodb in\nhis tower; Bogaine in his marsh (?).\n\nCuchulainn turned back to Mag Murthemne; he liked better to defend\nhis own home. After he went, he killed the men of Crocen (or\nCronech), i.e. Focherd; twenty men of Focherd. He overtook them\ntaking camp: ten cup-bearers and ten fighting-men.\n\nMedb turned back from the north when she had remained a fortnight\nravaging the province, and when she had fought a battle against\nFindmor, wife of Celtchar Mac Uthidir. And after taking Dun\nSobairche upon her, she brought fifty women into the province of\nDalriada. Wherever Medb placed a horse-switch in Cuib its name is\nBile Medba [Note: i.e. Tree of Medb]; every ford and every hill by\nwhich she slept, its name is Ath Medba and Dindgna Medba.\n\nThey all meet then at Focherd, both Ailill and Medb and the troop\nthat drove the Bull. But their herd took their Bull from them, and\nthey drove him across into a narrow gap with their spear-shafts on\ntheir shields(?). [Note: A very doubtful rendering.] So that the\nfeet of the cattle drove him [Note, i.e. Forgemen.] through the\nground. Forgemen was the herd's name. He is there afterwards, so\nthat that is the name of the hill, Forgemen. There was no annoyance\nto them that night, provided a man were got toward off Cuchulainn\non the ford.\n\n'Let a sword-truce be asked by us from Cuchulainn,' said Ailill.\n\n'Let Lugaid go for it,' said every one.\n\nLugaid goes then to speak to him.\n\n'How am I now with the host?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Great indeed is the mockery that you asked of them,' said Lugaid,\n'that is, your women and your maidens and half your cattle. And\nthey think it heavier than anything to be killed and to provide you\nwith food.'\n\nA man fell there by Cuchulainn every day to the end of a week.\nFair-play is broken with Cuchulainn: twenty are sent to attack him\nat one time; and he killed them all.\n\n'Go to him, O Fergus,' said Ailill, 'that he may allow us a change\nof place.'\n\nThey go then to Cronech. This is what fell by him in single combat\nat this place: two Roths, two Luans, two female horse messengers,\n[Note: Or 'female stealers.' (O'Davoren.)] ten fools, ten\ncup-bearers, ten Ferguses, six Fedelms, six Fiachras. These then\nwere all killed by him in single combat. When they pitched their\ntents in Cronech, they considered what they should do against\nCuchulainn.\n\n'I know,' said Medb, 'what is good in this case: let a message be\nsent from us to ask him that we may have a sword-truce from him\ntowards the host, and he shall have half the cattle that are here.'\n\nThis message is taken to him.\n\n'I will do this,' said Cuchulainn, 'provided the compact is not\nbroken by you.'\n\n\n_The Meeting of Cuchulainn and Findabair_\n\n'Let an offer go to him,' said Ailill, 'that Findabair will be\ngiven to him on condition that he keeps away from the hosts.'\n\nMane Athramail goes to him. He goes first to Loeg.\n\n'Whose man are you?' said he.\n\nLoeg does not speak to him. Mane spoke to him thrice in this way.\n\n'Cuchulainn's man,' said he, 'and do not disturb me, lest I strike\nyour head off.'\n\n'This man is fierce,' said Mane, turning from him. He goes then to\nspeak to Cuchulainn. Now Cuchulainn had taken off his tunic, and\nthe snow was round him up to his waist as he sat, and the snow\nmelted round him a cubit for the greatness of the heat of the hero.\n\nMane said to him in the same way thrice, 'whose man was he?'\n\n'Conchobar's man, and do not disturb me. If you disturb me any\nlonger, I will strike your head from you as the head is taken from\na blackbird.'\n\n'It is not easy,' said Mane, 'to speak to these two.'\n\nMane goes from them then and tells his tale to Ailill and Medb.\n\n'Let Lugaid go to him,' said Ailill, 'and offer to him the maiden.'\n\nLugaid goes then and tells Cuchulainn that.\n\n'O friend Lugaid,' said Cuchulainn, 'this is a snare.'\n\n'It is the king's word that has said it,' said Lugaid; 'there will\nbe no snare therefrom.'\n\n'Let it be done so,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nLugaid went from him therewith, and tells Ailill and Medb that\nanswer.\n\n'Let the fool go in my form,' said Ailill, 'and a king's crown on\nhis head, and let him stand at a distance from Cuchulainn lest he\nrecognise him, and let the maiden go with him, and let him betroth\nher to him, and let them depart quickly in this way; and it is\nlikely that you will play a trick on him thus, so that he will not\nhinder you, till he comes with the Ulstermen to the battle.'\n\nThen the fool goes to him, and the maiden also; and it was from a\ndistance he spoke to Cuchulainn. Cuchulainn goes to meet them. It\nhappened that he recognised by the man's speech that he was a fool.\nHe threw a sling stone that was in his hand at him, so that it\nsprang into his head and brought his brains out. Then he comes to\nthe maiden, cuts her two tresses off, and thrusts a stone through\nher mantle and through her tunic, and thrusts a stone pillar\nthrough the middle of the fool. There are their two pillars there:\nthe pillar of Findabair, and the fool's pillar.\n\nCuchulainn left them thus. A party was sent from Ailill and Medb to\nseek out their folk, for they thought they were long; they were\nseen in this position. All this was heard throughout the camp.\nThere was no truce for them with Cuchulainn afterwards.\n\n\n_The Combat of Munremar and Curoi_\n\nWhen the hosts were there in the evening; they saw that one stone\nlighted on them from the east, and another from the west to meet\nit. They met in the air, and kept falling between Fergus's camp,\nand Ailill's, and Era's. [Note: Or Nera?] This sport and play went\non from that hour to the same hour next day; and the hosts were\nsitting down, and their shields were over their heads to protect\nthem against the masses of stones, till the plain was full of the\nstones. Hence is Mag Clochair. It happened that Curoi Mac Daire did\nthis; he had come to help his comrades, and he was in Cotal over\nagainst Munremar Mac Gerrcind. He had come from Emain Macha to help\nCuchulainn, and he was in Ard Roich. Curoi knew that there was no\nman in the host who could withstand Munremar. So it was these two\nwho had made this sport between them. They were asked by the host\nto be quiet; then Munremar and Curoi make peace, and Curoi goes to\nhis house and Munremar to Emain Macha. And Munremar did not come\ntill the day of the battle; Curoi did not come till the combat with\nFer Diad.\n\n\n'Speak to Cuchulainn,' said Medb and Ailill, 'that he allow us\nchange of place.'\n\nIt is granted to them then, and they change the place. The weakness\nof the Ulstermen was over then. For when they awoke from their\nsuffering, some of them kept coming on the host, that they might\ntake to slaying them again.\n\n\n_The Death of the Boys_\n\nThen the boys of Ulster had consulted in Emain Macha.\n\n'Wretched indeed,' said they, 'for our friend Cuchulainn to be\nwithout help.'\n\n'A question indeed,' said Fiachna Fulech Mac Fir-Febe, own brother\nto Fiacha Fialdama Mac Fir-Febe, 'shall I have a troop among you,\nand go to take help to him therefrom?'\n\nThree fifties of boys go with their playing-clubs, and that was a\nthird of the boys of Ulster. The host saw them coming towards them\nacross the plain.\n\n'A great host is at hand to us over the plain,' said Ailill.\n\nFergus goes to look at them. 'Some of the boys of Ulster that,'\nsaid he; 'and they come to Cuchulainn's help.'\n\n'Let a troop go against them,' said Ailill, 'without Cuchulainn's\nknowledge; for if they meet him, you will not withstand them.'\n\nThree fifties of warriors go to meet them. They fell by one another\nso that no one escaped alive of the abundance(?) of the boys at Lia\nToll. Hence it is the Stone of Fiachra Mac Fir-Febe; for it is\nthere he fell.\n\n\n'Make a plan,' said Ailill.\n\n'Ask Cuchulainn about letting you go out of this place, for you\nwill not come beyond him by force, because his flame of valour has\nsprung.'\n\nFor it was customary with him, when his flame of valour sprang in\nhim, that his feet would go round behind him, and his hams before;\nand the balls of his calves on his shins, and one eye in his head\nand the other out of his head; a man's head could have gone into\nhis mouth. Every hair on him was as sharp as a thorn of hawthorn,\nand a drop of blood on each hair. He would not recognise comrades\nor friends. He would strike alike before and behind. It is from\nthis that the men of Connaught gave Cuchulainn the name Riastartha.\n\n\n_The Woman-fight of Rochad_\n\nCuchulainn sent his charioteer to Rochad Mac Fatheman of Ulster,\nthat he should come to his help. Now it happened that Findabair\nloved Rochad, for he was the fairest of the warriors among the\nUlstermen at that time. The man goes to Rochad and told him to come\nto help Cuchulainn if he had come out of his weakness; that they\nshould deceive the host, to get at some of them to slay them.\nRochad comes from the north with a hundred men.\n\n'Look at the plain for us to-day,' said Ailill.\n\n'I see a troop coming over the plain,' said the watchman, 'and a\nwarrior of tender years among them; the men only reach up to his\nshoulders.'\n\n'Who is it yonder, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'Rochad Mac Fatheman,' said he, 'and it is to help Cuchulainn he\ncomes.'\n\n'I know what you had better do with him,' said Fergus. 'Let a\nhundred men go from you with the maiden yonder to the middle of the\nplain, and let the maiden go before them; and let a horseman go to\nspeak to him, that he come alone to speak with the maiden, and let\nhands be laid on him, and this will keep off (?) the attack of his\narmy from us.'\n\nThis is done then. Rochad goes to meet the horseman.\n\n'I have come from Findabair to meet you, that you come to speak\nwith her.'\n\nHe goes then to speak with her alone. The host rushes about him\nfrom every side. He is taken, and hands are laid on him. His force\nbreaks into flight. He is let go then, and he is bound over not to\ngo against the host till he should come together with all Ulster.\nIt was promised to him that Findabair should be given to him, and\nhe returned from them then. So that that is Rochad's Woman-fight.\n\n\n_The Death of the Princes_ [Note: Or 'royal mercenaries.']\n\n'Let a sword-truce be asked of Cuchulainn for us,' said Ailill and\nMedb.\n\nLugaid goes on that errand, and Cuchulainn grants the truce.\n\n'Put a man on the ford for me to-morrow,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nThere were with Medb six princes, i.e. six king's heirs of the\nClanna Dedad, the three Blacks of Imlech, and the three Reds of\nSruthair.\n\n'Why should we not go against Cuchulainn?' said they.\n\nThey go next day, and Cuchulainn slew the six of them.\n\n\n_The Death of Cur_\n\nThen Cur Mac Dalath is besought to go against Cuchulainn. He from\nwhom he shed blood, he is dead before the ninth day.\n\n'If he slay him,' said Medb, 'it is victory; and though it be he\nwho is slain, it is removing a load from the host: for it is not\neasy to be with him in regard to eating and sleeping.'\n\nThen he goes forth. He did not think it good to go against a\nbeardless wild boy.\n\n'Not so(?) indeed,' said he, 'right is the honour (?) that you give\nus! If I had known that it was against this man that I was sent, I\nwould not have bestirred myself to seek him; it were enough in my\nopinion for a boy of his own age from my troop to go against him.'\n\n'Not so,' said Cormac Condlongas; 'it were a marvel for us if you\nyourself were to drive him off.'\n\n'Howbeit,' said he, 'since it is on myself that it is laid you\nShall go forth to-morrow morning; it will not delay me to kill the\nyoung deer yonder.'\n\nHe goes then early in the morning to meet him; and he tells the\nhost to get ready to take the road before them, for it was a clear\nroad that he would make by going against Cuchulainn.\n\n\n_This is the Number of the Feats_\n\nHe went on that errand then. Cuchulainn was practising feats at\nthat time, i.e. the apple-feat, the edge-feat, the supine-feat, the\njavelin-feat, the ropefeat, the ---- feat, the cat-feat, the hero's\nsalmon[-leap?], the cast ----, the leap over ----, the noble\nchampion's turn, the _gae bolga_, the ---- of swiftness, the\nwheel-feat, the ----, the feat on breath, the mouth-rage (?), the\nchampion's shout, the stroke with proper adjustment, the\nback-stroke, the climbing a javelin with stretching of the body on\nits point, with the binding (?) of a noble warrior.\n\nCur was plying his weapons against him in a fence(?) of his shield\ntill a third of the day; and not a stroke of the blow reached\nCuchulainn for the madness of the feats, and he did not know that a\nman was trying to strike him, till Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe said to him:\n'Beware of the man who is attacking you.'\n\nCuchulainn looked at him; he threw the feat-apple that remained in\nhis hand, so that it went between the rim and the body of the\nshield, and went back through the head of the churl. It would be in\nImslige Glendanach that Cur fell according to another version.\n\nFergus returned to the army. 'If your security hold you,' said he,\n'wait here till to-morrow.'\n\n'It would not be there,' said Ailill; 'we shall go back to our\ncamp.'\n\nThen Lath Mac Dabro is asked to go against Cuchulainn, as Cur had\nbeen asked. He himself fell then also. Fergus returns again to put\nhis security on them. They remained there until there were slain\nthere Cur Mac Dalath, and Lath Mac Dabro, and Foirc, son of the\nthree Swifts, and Srubgaile Mac Eobith. They were all slain there\nin single combat.\n\n\n_The Death of Ferbaeth_\n\n'Go to the camp for us, O friend Loeg' [said Cuchulainn], 'and\nconsult Lugaid Mac Nois, descendant of Lomarc, to know who is\ncoming against me tomorrow. Let it be asked diligently, and give\nhim my greeting.'\n\nThen Loeg went.\n\n'Welcome,' said Lugaid; 'it is unlucky for Cuchulainn, the trouble\nin which he is, alone against the men of Ireland. It is a comrade\nof us both, Ferbaeth (ill-luck to his arms!), who goes against him\nto morrow. Findabair is given to him for it, and the kingdom of his\nrace.'\n\nLoeg turns back to where Cuchulainn is.\n\nHe is not very joyful over his answer, my friend Loeg,' said\nCuchulainn.\n\nLoeg tells him all that. Ferbaeth had been summoned into the tent\nto Ailill and Medb, and he is told to sit by Findabair, and that\nshe should be given to him, for he was her choice for fighting with\nCuchulainn. He was the man they thought worthy of them, for they\nhad both learned the same arts with Scathach. Then wine is given to\nhim, till he was intoxicated, and he is told, 'They thought that\nwine fine, and there had only been brought the load of fifty\nwagons. And it was the maiden who used to put hand to his portion\ntherefrom.'\n\n'I do not wish it,' said Ferbaeth; 'Cuchulainn is my foster-brother,\nand a man of perpetual covenant with me. Nevertheless I will go\nagainst him to-morrow and cut off his head.'\n\n'It will be you who would do it,' said Medb.\n\nCuchulainn told Loeg to go to meet Lugaid, that he should come and\nspeak with him. Lugaid comes to him.\n\n'So Ferbaeth is coming against me to-morrow,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'He indeed,' said Lugaid.\n\n'An evil day!' said Cuchulainn; 'I shall not be alive therefrom.\nTwo of equal age we, two of equal deftness, two equal when we meet.\nO Lugaid, greet him for me; tell him that it is not true valour to\ncome against me; tell him to come to meet me to-night, to speak\nwith me.'\n\nLugaid tells him this. When Ferbaeth did not avoid it, he went that\nnight to renounce his friendship with Cuchulainn, and Fiacha Mac\nFir-Febe with him. Cuchulainn appealed to him by his foster-brotherhood,\nand Scathach, the foster-mother of them both.\n\n'I must,' said Ferbaeth. 'I have promised it'\n\n'Take back (?) your bond of friendship then,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nCuchulainn went from him in anger. A spear of holly was driven into\nCuchulainn's foot in the glen, and appeared up by his knee. He\ndraws it out.\n\n'Go not, O Ferbaeth, till you have seen the find that I have\nfound.'\n\n'Throw it,' said Ferbaeth.\n\nCuchulainn threw the spear then after Ferbaeth so that it hit the\nhollow of his poll, and came out at his mouth in front, so that he\nfell back into the glen.\n\n'That is a throw indeed,' said Ferbaeth. Hence is Focherd\nMurthemne. (Or it is Fiacha who had said, 'Your throw is vigorous\nto-day, O Cuchulainn,' said he; so that Focherd Murthemne is from\nthat.)\n\nFerbaeth died at once in the glen. Hence is Glenn Firbaith.\nSomething was heard: Fergus, who said:\n\n        'O Ferbaeth, foolish is thy expedition\n         In the place in which thy grave is.\n         Ruin reached thee ...\n         In Croen Corand.\n\n        'The hill is named Fithi (?) for ever;\n         Croenech in Murthemne,\n         From to-day Focherd will be the name\n         Of the place in which thou didst fall, O Ferbaeth.\n         O Ferbaeth,' etc.\n\n'Your comrade has fallen,' said Fergus. 'Say will you pay for this\nman on the morrow?'\n\n'I will pay indeed,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nCuchulainn sends Loeg again for news, to know how they are in the\ncamp, and whether Ferbaeth lived. Lugaid said: 'Ferbaeth is dead,'\nand Cuchulainn comes in turn to talk with them.\n\n\n_The Combat of Larine Mac Nois_\n\n'One of you to-morrow to go readily against the other,' said\nLugaid.\n\n'He will not be found at all,' said Ailill, 'unless you practise\ntrickery therein. Any man who comes to you, give him wine, so that\nhis mind may be glad, and it shall be said to him that that is all\nthe wine that has been brought from Cruachan. It grieves us that\nyou should be on water in the camp. And Findabair shall be put at\nhis right hand, and it shall be said: \"She shall come to you, if\nyou bring us the head of the Riastartha.\"'\n\nA messenger used to be sent to every hero on his night, and that\nused to be told to him; he continued to kill every man of them in.\nturn. No one could be got by them to meet him at last. Larine Mac\nNois, brother to Lugaid, King of Munster, was summoned to them the\nnext day. Great was his pride. Wine is given to him, and Findabair\nis put at his right hand.\n\nMedb looked at the two. 'It pleases me, yonder pair,' said she; 'a\nmatch between them would be fitting.'\n\n'I will not stand in your way,' said Ailill; 'he shall have her if\nhe brings me the head of the Riastartha.'\n\n'I will bring it,' said Larine.\n\nThen Lugaid comes. 'What man have you for the ford to-morrow?' said\nhe.\n\n'Larine goes,' said Ailill.\n\nThen Lugaid comes to speak with Cuchulainn. They meet in Glenn\nFirbaith. Each gives the other welcome.\n\n'It is for this I have come to speak to you,' said Lugaid: 'there\nis a churl here, a fool and proud,' said he, 'a brother of mine named\nLarine; he is befooled about the same maiden. On your friendship\nthen, do not kill him, lest you should leave me without a brother.\nFor it is for this that he is being sent to you, so that we two\nmight quarrel. I should be content, however, that you should give\nhim a sound drubbing, for it is in my despite that he comes.'\n\nLarine goes next day to meet Cuchulainn, and the maiden near him to\nencourage him. Cuchulainn attacks him without arms. [Note: This is\napparently the sense, but the passage seems corrupt.] He takes\nLarine's arms from him perforce. He takes him then between his two\nhands, and grinds and shakes him, ... and threw him till he was\nbetween Lugaid's two hands ...; nevertheless, he is the only man\nwho escaped [even] a bad escape from him, of all who met him on the\nTain.\n\n\n_The Conversation of the Morrigan with Cuchulainn_\n\nCuchulainn saw a young woman coming towards him, with a dress of\nevery colour on, and her form very excellent.\n\n'Who are you?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Daughter of Buan the king,' said she. 'I have come to you; I have\nloved you for your reputation, and I have brought my treasures and\nmy cattle with me.'\n\n'The time at which you have come to us is not good. For our\ncondition is evil, through hunger. It is not easy to me to meet a\nwoman, while I am in this strife.'\n\n'I will be a help to you. ... I shall be more troublesome to you,'\nsaid she, 'when I come against you when you are in combat against\nthe men. I will come in the form of an eel about your feet in the\nford, so that you shall fall.'\n\n'I think that likelier than the daughter of a king. I will take\nyou,' said he, 'between my toes, till your ribs are broken, and you\nwill be in this condition till a doom of blessing comes (?) on\nyou.'\n\n'I will drive the cattle on the ford to you, in the form of a grey\nshe-wolf.'\n\n'I will throw a stone at you from my sling, so that it shall break\nyour eye in your head; and you will be in that state till a doom of\nblessing comes on you.'\n\n'I will come to you in the form of a hornless red heifer before the\ncattle. They will rush on you on the plains(?), and on the fords,\nand on the pools, and you will not see me before you.'\n\n'I will throw a stone at you,' said he, 'so that your leg shall\nbreak under you, and you will be in this state till a doom of\nblessing comes on you.'\n\nTherewith she goes from him.\n\nSo he was a week on Ath Grencha, and a man used to fall every day\nby him in Ath Grencha, i.e. in Ath Darteisc.\n\n\n_The Death of Loch Mac Emonis_\n\nThen Loch Mac Emonis was asked like the others, and there was\npromised to him a piece of the arable land of Mag Ai equal in size\nto Mag Murthemne, and the equipment of twelve warriors and a\nchariot worth seven cumals [Note: A measure of value.]; and he did\nnot think combat with a youth worthy. He had a brother, Long Mac\nEmonis himself. The same price was given to him, both maiden and\nraiment and chariots and land. He goes to meet Cuchulainn.\nCuchulainn slays him, and he was brought dead before his brother,\nLoch.\n\nThis latter said that if he only knew that it was a bearded man who\nslew him, he would kill him for it.\n\n'Take a battle-force to him,' said Medb to her household, 'across\nthe ford from the west, that you may go-across; and let fair-play\nbe broken on him.'\n\nThen the seven Manes, warriors, go first, so that they saw him on\nthe edge of the ford westward. He puts his feast-dress on that day.\nIt is then that the women kept climbing on the men to look at him.\n\n'I am sorry,' said Medb; 'I cannot see the boy about whom they go\nthere.'\n\n'Your mind will not be the gladder for it,' said Lethrend, Ailill's\nsquire, 'if you could see him.'\n\nHe comes to the ford then as he was.\n\n'What man is it yonder, O Fergus?' said Medb.\n\n'A boy who wards off,' etc. ... 'if it is Culann's Hound.' [Note:\nRhetoric, four lines.]\n\nMedb climbed on the men then to look at him.\n\nIt is then that the women said to Cuchulainn 'that he was laughed\nat in the camp because he had no beard, and no good warriors would\ngo against him, only wild men; it were easier to make a false\nbeard.' So this is what he did, in order to seek combat with a man;\ni.e. with Loch. Cuchulainn took a handful of grass, and said a\nspell over it, so that every one thought he had a beard.\n\n'True,' said the troop of women, 'Cuchulainn has a beard. It is\nfitting for a warrior to fight with him.'\n\nThey had done this on urging Loch.\n\n'I will not make combat against him till the end of seven days\nfrom to-day,' said Loch.\n\n'It is not fitting for us to have no attack on the man for this\nspace,' said Medb. 'Let us put a hero to hunt(?) him every night,\nif perchance we may get a chance at him.'\n\nThis is done then. A hero used to come every night to hunt him, and\nhe used to kill them all. These are the names of the men who fell\nthere: seven Conalls, seven Oenguses, seven Uarguses, seven\nCeltris, eight Fiacs, ten Ailills, ten Delbaths, ten Tasachs. These\nare his deeds of this week in Ath Grencha.\n\n\n\nMedb asked advice, to know what she should do to Cuchulainn, for\nwhat had been killed of their hosts by him distressed her greatly.\nThis is the plan she arrived at, to put brave, high-spirited men to\nattack him all at once when he should come to an appointed meeting\nto speak with Medb. For she had an appointment the next day with\nCuchulainn to make a peace in fraud with him, to get hold of him.\nShe sent messengers forth to seek him that he should come to meet\nher; and it was thus he should come, and he unarmed: 'for she would\ncome only with her troop of women to meet him.'\n\nThe messenger, Traigtren, went to the place where Cuchulainn was,\nand tells him Medb's message. Cuchulainn promised that he would do\nso.\n\n'In what manner does it please you to go to meet Medb to-morrow, O\nCuchulainn?' said Loeg.\n\n'As Medb has asked me,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Great are Medb's deeds,' said the charioteer; 'I fear a hand\nbehind the back with her.'\n\n'How is it to be done then?' said he.\n\n'Your sword at your waist,' said the charioteer, 'that you may not\nbe taken at an unfair advantage. For the warrior is not entitled to\nhis honour-price if he is without arms; and it is the coward's law\nthat he deserves in that way.'\n\n'Let it be done so then,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nThe meeting-place was in Ard Aignech, which is called Fochaird\nto-day. Now Medb came to the meeting-place and set in ambush\nfourteen men of her own special following, of those who were of\nmost prowess, ready for him. These are they: two Glassines, the two\nsons of Bucchridi; two Ardans, the two sons of Licce; two\nGlasogmas, the two sons of Crund; Drucht and Delt and Dathen; Tea\nand Tascra and Tualang; Taur and Glese.\n\nThen Cuchulainn comes to meet her. The men rise to attack him.\nFourteen spears are thrown at him at once. Cuchulainn guards\nhimself so that his skin or his ---- (?) is not touched. Then he\nturns on them and kills them, the fourteen of them. So that they\nare the fourteen men of Focherd, and they are the men of Cronech,\nfor it is in Cronech at Focherd that they were killed. Hence\nCuchulainn said: 'Good is my feat of heroism,' [Note: _Fo_, 'good';\n_cherd_, 'feat.' Twelve lines of rhetoric.] etc.\n\nSo it is from this that the name Focherd stuck to the place; that\nis, _focherd_, i.e. 'good is the feat of arms' that happened to\nCuchulainn there.\n\nSo Cuchulainn came, and overtook them taking camp, and there were\nslain two Daigris and two Anlis and four Dungais of Imlech. Then\nMedb began to urge Loch there.\n\n'Great is the mockery of you,' said she, 'for the man who has\nkilled your brother to be destroying our host, and you do not go to\nbattle with him! For we deem it certain that the wild man, great\nand fierce [Note: Literally, 'sharpened.'], the like of him yonder,\nwill not be able to withstand the rage and fury of a hero like you.\nFor it is by one foster-mother and instructress that an art was\nbuilt up for you both.'\n\nThen Loch came against Cuchulainn, to avenge his brother on him,\nfor it was shown to him that Cuchulainn had a beard.\n\n'Come to the upper ford,' said Loch; 'it would not be in the\npolluted ford that we shall meet, where Long fell.'\n\nWhen he came then to seek the ford, the men drove the cattle\nacross.\n\n'It will be across your water [Note: Irish, _tarteisc_.] here\nto-day,' said Gabran the poet. Hence is Ath Darteisc, and Tir Mor\nDarteisc from that time on this place.\n\nWhen the men met then on the ford, and when they began to fight and\nto strike each other there, and when each of them began to strike\nthe other, the eel threw three folds round Cuchulainn's feet, till\nhe lay on his back athwart the ford. Loch attacked him with the\nsword, till the ford was blood-red with his blood.\n\n'Ill indeed,' said Fergus, 'is this deed before the enemy. Let each\nof you taunt the man, O men,' said he to his following, 'that he\nmay not fall for nothing.'\n\nBricriu Poison-tongue Mac Carbatha rose and began inciting\nCuchulainn.\n\n'Your strength is gone,' said he, 'when it is a little salmon that\noverthrows you when the Ulstermen are at hand [coming] to you out\nof their sickness yonder. Grievous for you to undertake a hero's\ndeed in the presence of the men of Ireland and to ward off a\nformidable warrior in arms thus!'\n\nTherewith Cuchulainn arises and strikes the eel so that its ribs\nbroke in it, and the cattle were driven over the hosts eastwards\nby force, so that they took the tents on their horns, with the\nthunder-feat that the two heroes had made in the ford.\n\nThe she-wolf attacked him, and drove the cattle on him westwards.\nHe throws a stone from his sling, so that her eye broke in her\nhead. She goes in the form of a hornless red heifer; she rushes\nbefore the cows upon the pools and fords. It is then he said: 'I\ncannot see the fords for water.' He throws a stone at the hornless\nred heifer, so that her leg breaks under her. Then he sang a song:\n\n        'I am all alone before flocks;\n         I get them not, I let them not go;\n         I am alone at cold hours (?)\n         Before many peoples.\n\n        'Let some one say to Conchobar\n         Though he should come to me it were not too soon;\n         Magu's sons have carried off their kine\n         And divided them among them.\n\n        'There may be strife about one head\n         Only that one tree blazes not;\n         If there were two or three\n         Their brands would blaze. [Note: Meaning not clear.]\n\n        'The men have almost worn me out\n         By reason of the number of single combats;\n         I cannot work the slaughter (?) of glorious warriors\n         As I am all alone.\n                       I am all alone.'\n\n***\n\nIt is there then that Cuchulainn did to the Morrigan the three\nthings that he had promised her in the _Tain Bo Regamna_ [Note:\nOne of the introductory stories to the _Tain Bo Cuailnge_, printed\nwith translation in _Irische Texte_, 2nd series.]; and he fights\nLoch in the ford with the gae-bolga, which the charioteer threw him\nalong the stream. He attacked him with it, so that it went into his\nbody's armour, for Loch had a horn-skin in fighting with a man.\n\n'Give way to me,' said Loch. Cuchulainn gave way, so that it was on\nthe other side that Loch fell. Hence is Ath Traiged in Tir Mor.\nCuchulainn cut off his head then.\n\nThen fair-play was broken with him that day when five men came\nagainst him at one time; i.e. two Cruaids, two Calads, Derothor;\nCuchulainn killed them by himself. Hence is Coicsius Focherda, and\nCoicer Oengoirt; or it is fifteen days that Cuchulainn was in\nFocherd, and hence is Coicsius Focherda in the Foray.\n\nCuchulainn hurled at them from Delga, so that not a living thing,\nman or beast, could put its head past him southwards between Delga\nand the sea.\n\n\n_The Healing of the Morrigan_\n\nWhen Cuchulainn was in this great weariness, the Morrigan met him\nin the form of an old hag, and she blind and lame, milking a cow\nwith three teats, and he asked her for a drink. She gave him milk\nfrom a teat.\n\n'He will be whole who has brought it(?),' said Cuchulainn; 'the\nblessings of gods and non-gods on you,' said he. (Gods with them\nwere the Mighty Folk [Note: i.e. the dwellers in the Sid. The words\nin brackets are a gloss incorporated in the text.]; non-gods the\npeople of husbandry.)\n\nThen her head was healed so that it was whole.\n\nShe gave the milk of the second teat, and her eye was whole; and\ngave the milk of the third teat, and her leg was whole. So that\nthis was what he said about each thing of them, 'A doom of blessing\non you,' said he.\n\n'You told me,' said the Morrigan, 'I should not have healing from\nyou for ever.'\n\n'If I had known it was you,' said Cuchulainn, 'I would not have\nhealed you ever.'\n\nSo that formerly Cuchulainn's throng (?) on Tarthesc was the name\nof this story in the Foray.\n\nIt is there that Fergus claimed of his securities that faith should\nnot be broken with Cuchulainn; and it is there that Cuchulainn ...\n[Note: Corrupt; one and a half lines.] i.e. Delga Murthemne at that\ntime.\n\nThen Cuchulainn killed Fota in his field; Bomailce on his ford;\nSalach in his village (?); Muine in his hill; Luair in Leth-bera;\nFer-Toithle in Toithle; these are the names of these lands for\never, every place in which each man of them fell. Cuchulainn killed\nalso Traig and Dornu and Dernu, Col and Mebul and Eraise on this\nside of Ath Tire Moir, at Methe and Cethe: these were three [Note:\nMS. 'two.'] druids and their three wives.\n\nThen Medb sent a hundred men of her special retinue to kill\nCuchulainn. . He killed them all on Ath Ceit-Chule. Then Medb said:\n'It is _cuillend_ [Note: Interlinear gloss: 'We deem it a crime.']\nto us, the slaying of our people.' Hence is Glass Chrau and\nCuillend Cind Duin and Ath Ceit-Chule.\n\nThen the four provinces of Ireland took camp and fortified post in\nthe Breslech Mor in Mag Murthemne, and send part of their cattle\nand booty beyond them to the south into Clithar Bo Ulad. Cuchulainn\ntook his post at the mound in Lerga near them, and his charioteer\nLoeg Mac Riangabra kindled a fire for him on the evening of that\nnight. He saw the fiery sheen of the bright golden arms over the\nheads of the four provinces of Ireland at the setting of the clouds\nof evening. Fury and great rage came over him at sight of the host,\nat the multitude of his enemies, the abundance of his foes. He took\nhis two spears and his shield and his sword; he shook his shield\nand brandished his spears and waved his sword; and he uttered his\nhero's shout from his throat, so that goblins and sprites and\nspectres of the glen and demons of the air answered, for the terror\nof the shout which they uttered on high. So that the Nemain\nproduced confusion on the host. The four provinces of Ireland came\ninto a tumult of weapons about the points of their own spears and\nweapons, so that a hundred warriors of them died of terror and of\nheart-burst in the middle of the camp and of the position that\nnight.\n\nWhen Loeg was there, he saw something: a single man who came\nstraight across the camp of the men of Ireland from the north-east\nstraight towards him.\n\n'A single man is coming to us now, O Little Hound!' said Loeg.\n\n'What kind of man is there?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'An easy question: a man fair and tall is he, with hair cut broad,\nwaving yellow hair; a green mantle folded round him; a brooch of\nwhite silver in the mantle on his breast; a tunic of royal silk,\nwith red ornamentation of red gold against the white skin, to his\nknees. A black shield with a hard boss of white metal; a five\npointed spear in his hand; a forked (?) javelin beside it.\nWonderful is the play and sport and exercise that he makes; but no\none attacks him, and he attacks no one, as if no one saw him.'\n\n'It is true, O fosterling,' said he; 'which of my friends from the\n_s\u00edd_ is that who comes to have pity on me, because they know the\nsore distress in which I am, alone against the four great provinces\nof Ireland, on the Cattle-Foray of Cualnge at this time?'\n\nThat was true for Cuchulainn. When the warrior had reached the\nplace where Cuchulainn was, he spoke to him, and had pity on him\nfor it.\n\n'This is manly, O Cuchulainn,' said he.\n\n'It is not much at all,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'I will help you,' said the man.\n\n\n'Who are you at all?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'It is I, your father from the _s\u00edd_, Lug Mac Ethlend.'\n\n'My wounds are heavy, it were high time that I should be healed.'\n\n'Sleep a little, O Cuchulainn,' said the warrior; 'your heavy\nswoon (?) [Note: Conjectural--MS. _tromthortim_.] of sleep at the\nmound of Lerga till the end of three days and three nights, and I\nwill fight against the hosts for that space.'\n\nThen he sings the _ferdord_ to him, and he sleeps from it. Lug\nlooked at each wound that it was clean. Then Lug said:\n\n'Arise, O great son of the Ulstermen, whole of thy wounds. ... Go\ninto thy chariot secure. Arise, arise!' [Note: Rhetoric.]\n\nFor three days and three nights Cuchulainn was asleep. It were\nright indeed though his sleep equalled his weariness. From the\nMonday after the end of summer exactly to the Wednesday after\nCandlemas, for this space Cuchulainn had not slept, except when he\nslept a little while against his spear after midday, with his head\non his clenched fist, and his clenched fist on his spear, and his\nspear on his knee; but he was striking and cutting and attacking\nand slaying the four great provinces of Ireland for that space.\n\nIt is then that the warrior of the s\u00edd cast herbs and grasses of\ncuring and charms of healing into the hurts and wounds and into\nthe injuries and into the many wounds of Cuchulainn, so that\nCuchulainn recovered in his sleep without his perceiving it at all.\n\n\nNow it was at this time that the boys came south from Emain Macha:\nFolloman Mac Conchobair with three fifties of kings' sons of\nUlster, and they gave battle thrice to the hosts, so that three\ntimes their own number fell, and all the boys fell except Folloman\nMac Conchobair. Folloman boasted that he would not go back to Emain\nfor ever and ever, until he should take the head of Ailill with\nhim, with the golden crown that was above it. This was not easy to\nhim; for the two sons of Bethe Mac Bain, the two sons of Ailill's\nfoster-mother and foster-father, came on him, and wounded him so\nthat he fell by them. So that that is the death of the boys of\nUlster and of Folloman Mac Conchobair.\n\nCuchulainn for his part was in his deep sleep till the end of three\ndays and three nights at the mound in Lerga. Cuchulainn arose then\nfrom his sleep, and put his hand over his face, and made a purple\nwheelbeam from head to foot, and his mind was strong in him, and he\nwould have gone to an assembly, or a march, or a tryst, or a\nbeer-house, or to one of the chief assemblies of Ireland.\n\n'How long have I been in this sleep now, O warrior?' said\nCuchulainn.\n\n'Three days and three nights,' said the warrior.\n\n'Alas for that!' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'What is the matter?' said the warrior.\n\n'The hosts without attack for this space,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'They are not that at all indeed,' said the warrior.\n\n'Who has come upon them?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'The boys came from the north from Emain Macha; Folloman Mac\nConchobair with three fifties of boys of the kings' sons of Ulster;\nand they gave three battles to the hosts for the space of the three\ndays and the three nights in which you have been in your sleep now.\nAnd three times their own number fell, and the boys fell, except\nFolloman Mac Conchobair. Folloman boasted that he would take\nAilill's head, and that was not easy to him, for he was killed.'\n\n'Pity for that, that I was not in my strength! For if I had been in\nmy strength, the boys would not have fallen as they have fallen,\nand Folloman Mac Conchobair would not have fallen.'\n\n'Strive further, O Little Hound, it is no reproach to thy honour\nand no disgrace to thy valour.'\n\n'Stay here for us to-night, O warrior,' said Cuchulainn, 'that we\nmay together avenge the boys on the hosts.'\n\n'I will not stay indeed,' said the warrior, 'for however great the\ncontests of valour and deeds of arms any one does near thee, it is\nnot on him there will be the renown of it or the fame or the\nreputation, but it is on thee; therefore I will not stay. But ply\nthy deed of arms thyself alone on the hosts, for not with them is\nthere power over thy life this time.'\n\n'The scythe-chariot, O my friend Loeg!' said Cuchulainn; 'can you\nyoke it? and is its equipment here? If you can yoke it, and if you\nhave its equipment, yoke it; and if you have not its equipment, do\nnot yoke it at all.'\n\nIt is then that the charioteer arose, and he put on his hero's\ndress of charioteering. This was his hero's dress of charioteering\nthat he put on: his soft tunic of skin, light and airy,\nwell-turned [Note: Lit. 'kneaded.'], made of skin, sewn, of\ndeer-skin, so that it did not restrain the movement of his hands\noutside. He put on his black (?) upper-cloak over it outside: Simon\nMagus had made it for Darius, King of the Romans, so that Darius\ngave it to Conchobar, and Conchobar gave it to Cuchulainn, and\nCuchulainn gave it to his charioteer. The charioteer took first\nthen his helm, ridged, like a board (?), four-cornered, with much\nof every colour and every form, over the middle of his shoulders.\nThis was well-measured (?) to him, and it was not an overweight.\nHis hand brought the circlet of red-yellow, as though it were a\nplate of red-gold, of refined gold smelted over the edge of an\nanvil, to his brow, as a sign of his charioteering, in distinction\nto his master.\n\nHe took the goads (?) of his horses, and his whip (?) inlaid in his\nright hand. He took the reins to hold back his horses in his left\nhand. [Note: Gloss incorporated in text: 'i. e. to direct his\nhorses, in his left hand, for the great power of his charioteering.']\nThen he put the iron inlaid breastplates on the horses, so that\nthey were covered from forehead to forefoot with spears and points\nand lances and hard points, so that every motion in this chariot\nwas spear-near, so that every corner and every point and every\nend and every front of this chariot was a way of tearing. It is\nthen that he cast a spell of covering over his horses and over\nhis companion, so that he was not visible to any one in the\ncamp, and so that every one in the camp was visible to them.\nIt was proper that he should cast this, because there were the\nthree gifts of charioteering on the charioteer that day, the\nleap over ----, and the straight ----, and the ----.\n\nThen the hero and the champion and he who made the fold of the Badb\n[Note: The Badb (scald-crow) was a war-goddess. This is an\nexpressive term for the piled-up bodies of the slain.] of the men\nof the earth, Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim, took his battle-array of\nbattle and contest and strife. This was his battle-array of battle\nand contest and strife: he put on twenty-seven skin tunics, waxed,\nlike board, equally thick, which used to be under strings and\nchains and thongs, against his white skin, that he might not lose\nhis mind nor his understanding when his rage should come. He put on\nhis hero's battle-girdle over it outside, of hard-leather, hard,\ntanned, of the choice of seven ox-hides of a heifer, so that it\ncovered him from the thin part of his sides to the thick part of\nhis arm-pit; it used to be on him to repel spears, and points, and\ndarts, and lances, and arrows. For they were cast from him just as\nif it was stone or rock or horn that they struck (?). Then he put\non his apron, skin like, silken, with its edge of white gold\nvariegated, against the soft lower part of his body. He put on his\ndark apron of dark leather, well tanned, of the choice of four\nox-hides of a heifer, with his battle-girdle of cows' skins (?)\nabout it over his silken skin-like apron. Then the royal hero took\nhis battle-arms of battle and contest and strife. These then were\nhis battle-arms of battle: he took his ivory-hilted, bright-faced\nweapon, with his eight little swords; he took his five-pointed\nspear, with his eight little spears [Note: In the margin: 'and his\nquiver,' probably an interpolation.]; he took his spear of battle,\nwith his eight little darts; he took his javelin with his eight\nlittle javelins; his eight shields of feats, with his round shield,\ndark red, in which a boar that would be shown at a feast would go\ninto the boss (?), with its edge sharp, keen, very sharp, round\nabout it, so that it would cut hairs against the stream for\nsharpness and keenness and great sharpness; when the warrior did\nthe edge-feat with it, he would cut equally with his shield, and\nwith his spear, and with his sword.\n\nThen he put on his head a ridged-helmet of battle and contest and\nstrife, from which there was uttered the shout of a hundred\nwarriors, with along cry from every corner and every angle of it.\nFor there used to cry from it equally goblins and sprites and\nghosts of the glen and demons of the air, before and above and\naround, wherever he used to go before shedding the blood of\nwarriors and enemies. There was cast over him his dress of\nconcealment by the garment of the Land of Promise that was given by\nhis foster-father in wizardry.\n\nIt is then came the first contortion on Cuchulainn, so that it made\nhim horrible, many-shaped, wonderful, strange. His shanks shook\nlike a tree before the stream, or like a rush against the stream,\nevery limb and every joint and every end and every member, of him\nfrom head to foot. He made a ---- of rage of his body inside his\nskin. His feet and his shins and his knees came so that they were\nbehind him; his heels and his calves and his hams came so that they\nwere in front. The front-sinews of his calves came so that they\nwere on the front of his shins, so that every huge knot of them was\nas great as a warrior's clenched fist. The temple-sinews of his\nhead were stretched, so that they were on the hollow of his neck,\nso that every round lump of them, very great, innumerable, not to\nbe equalled (?), measureless, was as great as the head of a month\nold child.\n\nThen he made a red bowl of his face and of his visage on him; he\nswallowed one of his two eyes into his head, so that from his cheek\na wild crane could hardly have reached it [to drag it] from the\nback of his skull. The other sprang out till it was on his cheek\noutside. His lips were marvellously contorted. Tie drew the cheek\nfrom the jawbone, so that his gullet was visible. His lungs and his\nlights came so that they were flying in his mouth and in his\nthroat. He struck a blow of the ---- of a lion with his upper\npalate on the roof of his skull, so that every flake of fire that\ncame into his mouth from his throat was as large as a wether's\nskin. His heart was heard light-striking (?) against his ribs like\nthe roaring of a bloodhound at its food, or like a lion going\nthrough bears. There were seen the palls of the Badb, and the\nrain-clouds of poison, and the sparks of fire very red in clouds\nand in vapours over his head with the boiling of fierce rage, that\nrose over him.\n\nHis hair curled round his head like the red branches of a thorn in\nthe gap of Atalta (?). Though a royal apple-tree under royal fruit\nhad been shaken about it, hardly would an apple have reached the\nground through it, but an apple would have fixed on every single\nhair there, for the twisting of the rage that rose from his hair\nabove him.\n\nThe hero's light rose from his forehead, so that it was as long,\nand as thick, as a warrior's whet-stone, so that it was equally\nlong with the nose, till he went mad in playing with the shields,\nin pressing on (?) the charioteer, in ---- the hosts. As high, as\nthick, as strong, as powerful, as long, as the mast of a great\nship, was the straight stream of dark blood that rose straight up\nfrom the very top of his head, so that it made a dark smoke of\nwizardry like the smoke of a palace when the king comes to equip\nhimself in the evening of a wintry day.\n\nAfter that contortion wherewith Cuchulainn was contorted, then the\nhero of valour sprang into his scythed battle-chariot, with its\niron points, with its thin edges, with its hooks, and with its hard\npoints, with its sharp points (?) of a hero, with their pricking\ngoads (?), with its nails of sharpness that were on shafts and\nthongs and cross-pieces and ropes (?) of that chariot.\n\nIt was thus the chariot was, with its body thin-framed (?),\ndry-framed (?), feat-high, straight-shouldered (?), of a champion,\non which there would have been room for eight weapons fit for a\nlord, with the speed of swallow or of wind or of deer across the\nlevel of the plain. The chariot was placed on two horses, swift,\nvehement, furious, small-headed, small-round, small-end, pointed,\n----, red-breasted, ----, easy to recognise, well-yoked, ... One of\nthese two horses was supple, swift-leaping, great of strength, great\nof curve, great of foot, great of length, ----. The other horse was\nflowing-maned, slender-footed, thin-footed, slender-heeled, ----.\n\nIt is then that he threw the thunder-feat of a hundred, and the\nthunder-feat of four hundred, and he stopped at the thunder-feat\nof five hundred, for he did not think it too much for this equal\nnumber to fall by him in his first attack, and in his first contest\nof battle on the four provinces of Ireland; and he came forth in\nthis way to attack his enemies, and he took his chariot in a great\ncircuit about the four great provinces of Ireland, and he put the\nattack of an enemy among enemies on them. And a heavy course was\nput on his chariot, and the iron wheels of the chariot went into\nthe ground, so that it was enough for fort and fortress, the way\nthe iron wheels of the chariot went into the ground; for there\narose alike turfs and stones and rocks and flagstones and gravel of\nthe ground as high as the iron wheels of the chariot.\n\nThe reason why he cast the circle of war round about the four great\nprovinces of Ireland, was that they might not flee from him, and\nthat they might not scatter, that he might make sure of them, to\navenge the boys on them; and he comes into the battle thus in the\nmiddle, and overthrew great fences of his enemies' corpses round\nabout the host thrice, and puts the attack of an enemy among\nenemies on them, so that they fell sole to sole, and neck to neck;\nsuch was the density of the slaughter.\n\nHe went round again thrice thus, so that he left a layer of six\nround them in the great circuit; i.e. soles of three to necks of\nthree in the course of a circuit round the camp. So that its name\nin the Foray is Sesrech Breslige, and it is one of the three not to\nbe numbered in the Foray; i.e. Sesrech Breslige and Imslige\nGlendamnach and the battle on Garach and Irgarach, except that it\nwas alike dog and horse and man there.\n\nThis is what others say, that Lug Mac Ethlend fought along with\nCuchulainn the Sesrech Breslige. Their number is not known, and it\nis impossible to count what number fell there of the rabble. But\nthe chief only have been counted. These are the names of the\nprinces and chiefs: two Cruads, two Calads, two Cirs, two Ciars,\ntwo Ecells, three Croms, three Caurs, three Combirge, four\nFeochars, four Furachars, four Cass, four Fotas, five Caurs, five\nCermans, five Cobthachs, six Saxans, six Dachs, six Dares, seven\nRochads, seven Ronans, seven Rurthechs, eight Roclads, eight\nRochtads, eight Rindachs, eight Corpres, eight Mulachs, nine Daigs,\nnine Dares, nine Damachs, ten Fiachs, ten Fiachas, ten Fedelmids.\n\nTen kings over seven fifties did Cuchulainn slay in Breslech Mor\nin Mag Murthemne; and an innumerable number besides of dogs and\nhorses and women and boys and people of no consequence and rabble.\nFor there did not escape one man out of three of the men of Ireland\nwithout a thigh-bone or half his head or one eye broken, or without\nbeing marked for ever. And he came from them after giving them\nbattle without wound or blood-stain on himself or on his servant or\non either of his horses.\n\nCuchulainn came next day to survey the host and to show his soft\nfair form to the women and the troops of women and the girls and\nthe maidens and the poets and the bards, for he did not hold in\nhonour or dignity that haughty form of wizardry that had appeared\nto them on him the night before. Therefore he came to show his soft\nfair form that day.\n\nFair indeed the boy who came then to show his form to the hosts,\nthat is, Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim. The appearance of three heads of\nhair on him, dark against the skin of his head, blood-red in the\nmiddle, a crown gold-yellow which covers them. A fair arrangement\nof this hair so that it makes three circles round the hollow of the\nback of his head, so that each hair ----, dishevelled, very golden,\nexcellent, in long curls, distinguished, fair-coloured, over his\nshoulders, was like gold thread.\n\nA hundred ringlets, bright purple, of red-gold, gold-flaming, round\nhis neck; a hundred threads with mixed carbuncle round his head.\nFour dimples in each of his two cheeks; that is, a yellow dimple,\nand a green dimple, and a blue dimple, and a purple dimple. Seven\ngems of brilliance of an eye, in each of his two royal eyes. Seven\ntoes on each of his two feet, seven fingers on each of his two\nhands, with the grasp of a hawk's claws, with the seizure of a\ngriffin's claws on each of them separately.\n\nThen he puts on his feast-dress that day. This was his raiment on\nhim: a fair tunic, proper; bright-purple, with a border with five\nfolds. A white brooch of white silver with adorned gold inlaid over\nhis white breast, as if it was a lantern full of light, that the\neyes of men could not look at for its splendour and its brightness.\nA silken tunic of silk against his skin so that it covered him to\nthe top of his dark apron of dark-red, soldierly, royal, silken.\n\nA dark shield; dark red, dark purple, with five chains of gold,\nwith a rim of white metal on it. A sword gold-hilted, inlaid with\nivory hilt of red-gold raised high on his girdle. A spear, long,\ngrey-edged, with a spear-head sharp, attacking, with rivets of\ngold, gold-flaming by him in the chariot. Nine heads in one of his\ntwo hands, and ten heads in the other hand. He shook them from him\ntowards the hosts. So that this is the contest of a night to\nCuchulainn. Then the women of Connaught raised themselves on the\nhosts, and the women were climbing on the men to look at\nCuchulainn's form. Medb hid her face and dare not show her face,\nbut was under the shield-shelter for fear of Cuchulainn. So that it\nis hence Dubthach Doeltenga of Ulster said:\n\n        'If it is the Riastartha, there will be corpses\n            Of men therefrom,' etc. [Note: Rhetoric, fifty-four lines.]\n\nFiacha Fialdana from Imraith (?) came to speak with the son of his\nmother's sister, Mane Andoe his name. Docha Mac Magach went with\nMane Andoe: Dubthach Doeltenga of Ulster came with Fiacha Fialdana\nfrom Imraith (?). Docha threw a spear at Fiacha, so that it went\ninto Dubthach. Then Dubthach threw a spear at Mane, so that it\nwent into Docha. The mothers of Dubthach and Docha were two\nsisters. Hence is Imroll Belaig Euin. [Note: i.e. the Random Throw\nof Belach Euin.]\n\n(Or Imroll Belaig Euin is from this: the hosts go to Belach Euin,\ntheir two troops wait there. Diarmait Mac Conchobair comes from the\nnorth from Ulster.\n\n'Let a horseman go from you,' said Diarmait, 'that Mane may come to\nspeak with me with one man, and I will come with one man to meet\nhim.' They meet then.\n\nI have come,' said Diarmait, 'from Conchobar, who says to Medb and\nAilill, that they let the cows go, and make whole all that they\nhave done there, and bring the Bull [Note: i.e. bring Findbennach\nto meet the Dun of Cualnge.] from the west hither to the Bull, that\nthey may meet, because Medb has promised it.'\n\n'I will go and tell them,' said Mane. He tells this then to Medb\nand Ailill.\n\n'This cannot be got of Medb,' said Mane.\n\n'Let us exchange arms then, 'said Diarmait, 'if you think it\nbetter.'\n\n'I am content,' said Mane. Each of them throws his spear at the\nother, so that the two of them die, and so that the name of this\nplace is Imroll Belaig Euin.)\n\nTheir forces rush at each other: there fall three twenties of them\nin each of the forces. Hence is Ard-in-Dirma. [Note: The Height of\nthe Troop.]\n\nAilill's folk put his king's crown on Tamun the fool; Ailill dare\nnot have it on himself. Cuchulainn threw a stone at him at Ath\nTamuin, so that his head broke thereby. Hence is Ath Tamuin and\nTuga-im-Tamun. [Note: i.e., Covering about Tamun.]\n\nThen Oengus, son of Oenlam the Fair, a bold warrior of Ulster,\nturned all the host at Moda Loga (that is the same as Lugmod) as\nfar as Ath Da Ferta: He did not let them go past, and he pelted\nthem with stones, and the learned say ---- before till they should\ngo under the sword at Emain Macha, if it had been in single combat\nthat they had come against him. Fair-play was broken on him, and\nthey slew him in an unequal fight.\n\n'Let some one come from you against me,' said Cuchulainn at Ath Da\nFerta.\n\n'It will not be I, it will not be I,' said every one from his\nplace. 'A scapegoat is not owed from my race, and if it were owed,\nit would not be I whom they would give in his stead for a\nscapegoat.'\n\nThen Fergus Mac Roich was asked to go against him. He refuses to go\nagainst his foster-son Cuchulainn. Wine was given to him, and he\nwas greatly intoxicated, and he was asked about going to the\ncombat. He goes forth then since they were urgently imploring him.\n\nThen Cuchulainn said: 'It is with my security that you come against\nme, O friend Fergus,' said he, 'with no sword in its place.' For\nAilill had stolen it, as we said before.\n\n'I do not care at all,' said Fergus; 'though there were a sword\nthere, it would not be plied on you. Give way to me, O Cuchulainn,'\nsaid Fergus.\n\n'You will give way to me in return then,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Even so,' said Fergus.\n\nThen Cuchulainn fled back before Fergus as far as Grellach Doluid,\nthat Fergus might give way to him on the day of the battle. Then\nCuchulainn sprang in to Grellach Doluid.\n\n\n'Have you his head, O Fergus?' said every one.\n\n'No,' said Fergus, 'it is not like a tryst. He who is there is too\nlively for me. Till my turn comes round again, I will not go.'\n\nThen they go past him, and take camp at Crich Ross. Then Ferchu, an\nexile, who was in exile against Ailill, hears them. He comes to\nmeet Cuchulainn. Thirteen men was his number. Cuchulainn kills\nFerchu's warriors. Their thirteen stones are there.\n\nMedb sent Mand of Muresc, son of Daire, of the Domnandach, to fight\nCuchulainn. Own brothers were lie and Fer Diad, and two sons of one\nfather. This Mand was a man fierce and excessive in eating and\nsleeping, a man ill-tongued, foul-mouthed, like Dubthach Doeltenga\nof Ulster. He was a man strong, active, with strength of limb like\nMunremar Mac Gerrcind; a fiery warrior like Triscod Trenfer of\nConchobar's house.\n\n'I will go, and I unarmed, and I will grind him between my hands,\nfor I deem it no honour or dignity to ply weapons on a beardless\nwild boy such as he.'\n\nHe went then to seek Cuchulainn. He and his charioteer were there\non the plain watching the host.\n\n'One man coming towards us,' said Loeg to Cuchulainn.\n\n'What kind of man?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'A man black, dark, strong, bull-like, and he unarmed.'\n\n'Let him come past you,' said Cuchulainn.\n\nHe came to them therewith.\n\nTo fight against you have I come,' said Mand.\n\nThen they begin to wrestle for a long time, and Mand overthrows\nCuchulainn thrice, so that the charioteer urged him.\n\n'If you had a strife for the hero's portion in Emain,' said he,\n'you would be mighty over the warriors of Emain!'\n\n\nHis hero's rage comes, and his warrior's fury rises, so that he\noverthrew Mand against the pillar, so that he falls in pieces.\nHence is Mag Mand Achta, that is, Mand Echta, that is, Mand's death\nthere.\n\n\n[From the Yellow Book of Lecan]\n\nOn the morrow Medb sent twenty-seven men to Cuchulainn's bog.\nFuilcarnn is the name of the bog, on this side of Fer Diad's Ford.\nThey threw their twenty-nine spears at him at once; i.e.\nGaile-dana with his twenty-seven sons and his sister's son, Glas\nMac Delgna. When then they all stretched out their hands to\ntheir swords, Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe came after them out of the\ncamp. He gave a leap from his chariot when he saw all their\nhands against Cuchulainn, and he strikes off the arms of the\ntwenty-nine of them.\n\nThen Cuchulainn said: 'What you have done I deem help at the\nnick of time (?).'\n\n'This little,' said Fiacha, 'is a breach of compact for us\nUlstermen. If any of them reaches the camp, we will go with our\ncantred under the point of the sword.'\n\n'I swear, etc., since I have emitted my breath,' said Cuchulainn,\n'not a man of them shall reach it alive.'\n\nCuchulainn slew then the twenty-nine men and the two sons of Ficce\nwith them, two bold warriors of Ulster who came to ply their might\non the host. This is that deed on the Foray, when they went to the\nbattle with Cuchulainn.\n\n\n_This is the Combat of Fer Diad and Cuchulainn_\n\nThen they considered what man among them would be fit to ward off\nCuchulainn. The four provinces of Ireland spoke, and confirmed, and\ndiscussed, whom it would be fitting to send to the ford against\nCuchulainn. All said that it was the Horn-skin from Irrus Domnand,\nthe weight that is not supported, the battle-stone of doom, his own\ndear and ardent foster-brother. For Cuchulainn had not a feat that\nhe did not possess, except it were the Gae Bolga alone; and they\nthought he could avoid it, and defend himself against it, because\nof the horn about him, so that neither arms nor many edges pierced\nit.\n\nMedb sent messengers to bring Fer Diad. Fer Diad did not come with\nthose messengers. Medb sent poets and bards and satirists [Note:\nIr. _aes glantha gemaidi_, the folk who brought blotches on the\ncheeks (i.e. by their lampoons).] to him, that they might satirise\nhim and mock him and put him to ridicule, that he might not find a\nplace for his head in the world, until he should come to the tent\nof Medb and Ailill on the Foray. Fer Diad came with those\nmessengers, for the fear of their bringing shame on him.\n\nFindabair, the daughter of Medb and Ailill, was put on one side of\nhim: it is Findabair who put her hand on every goblet and on every\ncup of Fer Diad; it is she who gave him three kisses at every cup\nof them; it is she who distributed apples right frequent over the\nbosom of his tunic. This is what she said: that he, Fer Diad, was\nher darling and her chosen wooer of the men of the world.\n\nWhen Fer Diad was satisfied and happy and very joyful, Medb said:\n\n'Al\u00e9! O Fer Diad, do you know why you have been summoned into this\ntent?'\n\n'I do not know indeed,' said Fer Diad; 'except that the nobles of\nthe men of Ireland are there. What is there less fitting for me to\nbe there than for any other good warrior?'\n\n'It is not that indeed,' said Medb; 'but to give you a chariot\nworth three sevens of cumals [See previous note about _cumal_.] and\nthe equipment of twelve men, and the equal of Mag Murthemne from\nthe arable land of Mag Ai; and that you should be in Cruachan\nalways, and wine to be poured for you there; and freedom of your\ndescendants and of your race for ever without tribute or tax; my\nleaf-shaped brooch of gold to be given to you, in which there are\nten score ounces and ten score half-ounces, and ten score _crosach_\nand ten score quarters; Findabair, my daughter and Ailill's\ndaughter, for your one wife, and you shall get my love if you need\nit over and above.'\n\n'He does not need it,' said every, one: 'great are the rewards and\ngifts.'\n\n'That is true,' said Fer Diad, 'they are great; and though they are\ngreat, O Medb, it is with you yourself they will be left, rather\nthan that I should go against my foster-brother to battle.'\n\n'O men,' said she, said Medb (through the right way of division and\nsetting by the ears), 'true is the word that Cuchulainn spoke,' as\nif she had not heard Fer Diad at all.\n\n'What word is this, O Medb?' said Fer Diad.\n\n'He said indeed,' said she, 'that he would not think it too much\nthat you should fall by him as the first fruits of his prowess in\nthe province to which he should come.'\n\n'To say that was not fitting for him. For it is not weariness or\ncowardice that he has ever known in me, day nor night. I swear,\netc., [Note: The usual oath, 'by the god by whom my people swear,'\nunderstood.] that I will be the first man who will come to-morrow\nmorning to the ford of combat.'\n\n'May victory and blessing come to you,' said Medb. 'And I think it\nbetter that weariness or cowardice be found with you, because of\nfriendship beyond my own men (?). Why is it more fitting for him to\nseek the good of Ulster because his mother was of them, than for\nyou to seek the good of the province of Connaught, because you are\nthe son of a king of Connaught?'\n\nIt is thus they were binding their covenants and their compact, and\nthey made a song there:\n\n        'Thou shalt have a reward,' etc.\n\nThere was a wonderful warrior of Ulster who witnessed that\nbargaining, and that was Fergus Mac Roich. Fergus came to his tent.\n\n'Woe is me! the deed that is done to-morrow morning!' said Fergus.\n\n'What deed is that?' said the folk in the tent.\n\n'My good fosterling Cuchulainn to be slain.'\n\n'Good lack! who makes that boast?'\n\n'An easy question: his own dear ardent foster-brother, Fer Diad Mac\nDamain. Why do ye not win my blessing?' said Fergus; 'and let one\nof you go with a warning and with compassion to Cuchulainn, if\nperchance he would leave the ford to-morrow morning.'\n\n'On our conscience,' said they, 'though it were you yourself who\nwere on the ford of combat, we would not come as far as [the ford]\nto seek you.'\n\n'Good, my lad,' said Fergus; 'get our horses for us and yoke the\nchariot.'\n\nThe lad arose and got the horses and yoked the chariot. They came\nforth to the ford of combat where Cuchulainn was.\n\n'One chariot coming hither towards us, O Cuchulainn!' said Loeg.\nFor it is thus the lad was, with his back towards his lord. He used\nto win every other game of _brandub_ [_Brandub_, the name of a\ngame; probably, like _fidchill_ and _buanfach_, of the nature of\nchess or draughts.] and of chess-playing from his master: the\nsentinel and watchman on the four quarters of Ireland over and\nabove that.\n\n'What kind of chariot then?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'A chariot like a huge royal fort, with its yolcs strong golden,\nwith its great panel(?) of copper, with its shafts of bronze, with\nits body thin-framed (?), dry-framed (?), feat-high, scythed,\nsword-fair (?), of a champion, on two horses, swift, stout(?),\nwell-yoked (?), ---- (?). One royal warrior, wide-eyed, was the\ncombatant of the chariot. A beard curly, forked, on him, so that it\nreached over the soft lower part of his soft shirt, so that it\nwould shelter (?) fifty warriors to be under the heavy ---- of the\nwarrior's beard, on a day of storm and rain. A round shield, white,\nvariegated, many-coloured on him, with three chains ----, so that\nthere would be room from front to back for four troops of ten men\nbehind the leather of the shield which is upon the ---- of the\nwarrior. A sword, long, hard-edged, red-broad in the sheath, woven\nand twisted of white silver, over the skin of the bold-in-battle. A\nspear, strong, three-ridged, with a winding and with bands of white\nsilver all white by him across the chariot.'\n\n'Not hard the recognition,' said Cuchulainn; 'my friend Fergus\ncomes there, with a warning and with compassion to me before all\nthe four provinces.'\n\nFergus reached them and sprang from his chariot and Cuchulainn\ngreeted him.\n\n'Welcome your coming, O my friend, O Fergus,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'I believe your welcome,' said Fergus.\n\n'You may believe it,' said Cuchulainn; 'if a flock of birds come to\nthe plain, you shall have a duck with half of another; if fish come\nto the estuaries, you shall have a salmon with half of another; a\nsprig of watercress, and a sprig of marshwort, and a sprig of\nseaweed, and a drink of cold sandy water after it.'\n\n'That portion is that of an outlaw,' said Fergus.\n\n'That is true, it is an outlaw's portion that I have,' said\nCuchulainn, 'for I have been from the Monday after Samain to this\ntime, and I have not gone for a night's entertainment, through\nstrongly obstructing the men of Ireland on the Cattle-Foray of\nCualnge at this time.'\n\n'If it were for this we came,' said Fergus, 'we should have thought\nit the better to leave it; and it is not for this that we have\ncome.'\n\n'Why else have you come to me?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'To tell you the warrior who comes against you in battle and combat\nto-morrow morning,' said he.\n\n'Let us find it out and let us hear it from you then,' said\nCuchulainn.\n\n'Your own foster-brother, Fer Diad Mac Damain.'\n\n'On our word, we think it not best that it should be he we come to\nmeet,'said Cuchulainn, 'and it is not for fear of him but for the\ngreatness of our love for him.'\n\n'It is fitting to fear him,' said Fergus, 'for he has a skin of\nhorn in battle against a man, so that neither weapon nor edge will\npierce it.'\n\n'Do not say that at all,' said Cuchulainn, 'for I swear the oath\nthat my people swear, that every joint and every limb of him will\nbe as pliant as a pliant rush in the midst of a stream under the\npoint of my sword, if he shows himself once to me on the ford.'\n\nIt is thus they were speaking, and they made a song:\n\n        'O Cuchulainn, a bright meeting,' etc.\n\nAfter that, 'Why have you come, O my friend, O Fergus?' said\nCuchulainn.\n\n'That is my purpose,' said Fergus.\n\n'Good luck and profit,' said Cuchulainn, 'that no other of the men\nof Ireland has come for this purpose, unless the four provinces of\nIreland all met at one time. I think nothing of a warning before a\nsingle warrior.'\n\nThen Fergus went to his tent.\n\nAs regards the charioteer and Cuchulainn:\n\n'What shall you do to-night?' said Loeg.\n\n'What indeed?' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'It is thus that Fer Diad will come to seek you, with new beauty of\nplaiting and haircutting, and washing and bathing, and the four\nprovinces of Ireland with him to look at the fight. It would please\nme if you went to the place where you will get the same adorning\nfor yourself, to the place where is Emer of the Beautiful Hair, to\nCairthend of Cluan Da Dam in Sliab Fuait.'\n\nSo Cuchulainn went thither that night, and spent the night with his\nown wife. His adventures from this time are not discussed here now.\nAs to Fer Diad, he came to his tent; it was gloomy and weary that\nFer Diad's tent-servants were that night. They thought it certain\nthat where the two pillars of the battle of the world should meet,\nthat both would fall; or the issue of it would be, that it would be\ntheir own lord who would fall there. For it was not easy to fight\nwith Cuchulainn on the Foray.\n\nThere were great cares on Fer Diad's mind that night, so that they\ndid not let him sleep. One of his great anxieties was that he\nshould let pass from him all the treasures that had been offered\nto him, and the maiden, by reason of combat with one man. If he did\nnot fight with that one man, he must fight with the six warriors on\nthe morrow. His care that was greater than this was that if he\nshould show himself once on the ford to Cuchulainn, he was certain\nthat he himself would not have power of his head or life\nthereafter; and Fer Diad arose early on the morrow.\n\n'Good, my lad,' said he, 'get our horses for us, and harness the\nchariot.'\n\n'On our word,' said the servant, 'we think it not greater praise to\ngo this journey than not to go it.'\n\nHe was talking with his charioteer, and he made this little song,\ninciting his charioteer:\n\n        'Let us go to this meeting,' etc.\n\nThe servant got the horses and yoked the chariot, and they went\nforth from the camp.\n\n'My lad,' said Fer Diad, 'it is not fitting that we make our\njourney without farewell to the men of Ireland. Turn the horses\nand the chariot for us towards the men of Ireland.'\n\nThe servant turned the horses and the chariot thrice towards the\nmen of Ireland. ...\n\n\n'Does Ailill sleep now?' said Medb.\n\n'Not at all,' said Ailill.\n\n'Do you hear your new son-in-law greeting you?'\n\n'Is that what he is doing?' said Ailill.\n\n'It is indeed,' said Medb, 'and I swear by what my people swear,\nthe man who makes the greeting yonder will not come back to you on\nthe same feet.'\n\n'Nevertheless we have profited by(?) the good marriage connection\nwith him,' said Ailill; 'provided Cuchulainn fell by him, I should\nnot care though they both fell. But we should think it better for\nFer Diad to escape.'\n\n\nFer Diad came to the ford of combat.\n\n'Look, my lad,' said Fer Diad; 'is Cuchulainn on the ford?'\n\n'He is not, indeed,' said the servant.\n\n'Look well for us,' said Fer Diad.\n\n'Cuchulainn is not a little speck in hiding where he would be,'\nsaid the lad.\n\n'It is true, O boy, until to-day Cuchulainn has not heard of the\ncoming of a good warrior [Note: Gloss incorporated in the text: 'or\na good man.'] against him on the Cattle Foray of Cualnge, and when\nhe has heard of it he has left the ford.'\n\n'A great pity to slander Cuchulainn in his absence! For do you\nremember how when you gave battle to German Garbglas above the\nedge-borders of the Tyrrhene Sea, you left your sword with the\nhosts, and it was Cuchulainn who killed a hundred warriors in\nreaching it, and he brought it to you; and do you remember where we\nwere that night?' said the lad.\n\n'I do not know it,' said Fer Diad.\n\n'At the house of Scathach's steward,' said the lad, 'and you went\n---- and haughtily before us into the house first. The churl gave\nyou a blow with the three-pointed flesh-hook in the small of your\nback, so that it threw you out over the door like a shot.\nCuchulainn came into the house and gave the churl a blow with his\nsword, so that it made two pieces of him. It was I who was steward\nfor you while you were in that place. If only for that day, you\nshould not say that you are a better warrior than Cuchulainn.'\n\n'What you have done is wrong,' said Fer Diad, 'for I would not have\ncome to seek the combat if you had said it to me at first. Why do\nyou not pull the cushions [Note: LL _fortchai_. YBL has _feirtsi_,\n'shafts.'] of the chariot under my side and my skin-cover under my\nhead, so that I might sleep now?'\n\n'Alas!' said the lad, 'it is the sleep of a fey man before deer and\nhounds here.'\n\n'What, O lad, are you not fit to keep watch and ward for me?'\n\n'I am fit,' said the lad; 'unless men come in clouds or in mist to\nseek you, they will not come at all from east or west to seek you\nwithout warning and observation.'\n\nThe cushions [Note: LL _fortchai_. YBL has _feirtsi_, 'shafts.']\nof his chariot were pulled under his side and the skin under his\nhead. And yet he could not sleep a little.\n\n\nAs to Cuchulainn it is set forth:\n\n'Good, O my friend, O Loeg, take the horses and yoke the chariot;\nif Fer Diad is waiting for us, he is thinking it long.'\n\nThe boy rose and took the horses and yoked the chariot.\n\nCuchulainn stepped into his chariot and they came on to the ford.\nAs to Fer Diad's servant, he had not long to watch till he heard\nthe creaking of the chariot coming towards them. He took to waking\nhis master, and made a song:\n\n        'I hear a chariot,' etc.\n\n(This is the description of Cuchulainn's chariot: one of the three\nchief chariots of the narration on the Cattle Foray of Cualnge.)\n\n'How do you see Cuchulainn?' said he, said Fer Diad, to his\ncharioteer.\n\n'I see,' said he, 'the chariot broad above, fine, of white crystal,\nwith a yoke of gold with ---- (?), with great panels of copper,\nwith shafts of bronze, with tyres of white metal, with its body\nthin-framed (?) dry-framed (?), feat-high, sword-fair (?), of a\nchampion, on which there would be room for seven arms fit for a\nlord (?). A fair seat for its lord; so that this chariot,\nCuchulainn's chariot, would reach with the speed of a swallow or of\na wild deer, over the level land of Mag Slebe. That is the speed\nand ---- which they attain, for it is towards us they go. This\nchariot is at hand on two horses small-headed, small-round,\nsmall-end, pointed, ----, red-breasted, ----, easy to recognise,\nwell-yoked. ... One of the two horses is supple(?), swift-leaping,\ngreat of strength, great of foot, great of length, ----. The other\nhorse is curly-maned, slender-footed, narrow-footed, heeled, ----.\nTwo wheels dark, black. A pole of metal adorned with red enamel, of\na fair colour. Two bridles golden, inlaid. There is a man with fair\ncurly hair, broad cut (?), in the front of this chariot. There is\nround him a blue mantle, red-purple. A spear with wings (?), and it\nred, furious; in his clenched fist, red-flaming. The appearance of\nthree heads of hair on him, i.e. dark hair against the skin of his\nhead, hair blood-red in the middle, a crown of gold covers the\nthird hair.\n\n'A fair arrangement of the hair so that it makes three circles\nround about his shoulders down behind. I think it like gold thread,\nafter its colour has been made over the edge of the anvil; or like\nthe yellow of bees on which the sun shines in a summer day, is the\nshining of each single hair of his hair. Seven toes on each of his\nfeet, and seven fingers on each of his hands, and the shining of a\nvery great fire round his eye, ---- (?) and the hoofs of his\nhorses; a hero's ---- in his hands.\n\n'The charioteer of the chariot is worthy of him in his presence:\ncurly hair very black has he, broad-cut along his head. A cowl-dress\nis on him open; two very fine golden leaf-shaped switches in his\nhand, and a light grey mantle round him, and a goad of white silver\nin his hand, plying the goad on the horses, whichever way the\nchampion of great deeds goes who was at hand in the chariot.\n\n'He is veteran of his land (?): he and his servant think little of\nIreland.'\n\n'Go, O fellow,' said he, said Fer Diad; 'you praise too much\naltogether; and prepare the arms in the ford against his coming.'\n\n'If I turned my face backwards, it seems to me the chariot would\ncome through the back of my neck.'\n\n'O fellow,' said he, 'too greatly do you praise Cuchulainn, for it\nis not a reward for praising he has given you'; and it is thus he\nwas giving his description, and he said:\n\n        'The help is timely,' etc.\n\nIt is not long afterwards that they met in the middle of the ford,\nand Fer Diad said to Cuchulainn:\n\n'Whence come you, O Cua?' said he (for [Note: An interpolation.]\n_cua_ was the name of squinting in old Gaelic; and there were seven\npupils in Cuchulainn's royal eye, and two of these pupils were\nsquinting, and the ugliness of it is no greater than its beauty on\nhim; and if there had been a greater blemish on Cuchulainn, it is\nthat with which he reproached him; and he was proclaiming it); and\nhe made a song, and Cuchulainn answered:\n\n        'Whence art thou come, O Hound,' etc.\n\nThen Cuchulainn said to his charioteer that he was to taunt him\nwhen he was overcome, and that he was to praise him when he was\nvictorious, in the combat against Fer Diad. Then the charioteer\nsaid to him:\n\n'The man goes over thee as the tail over a cat; he washes thee as\nfoam is washed in water, he squeezes (?) thee as a loving mother\nher son.'\n\n\nThen they took to the ford-play. Scathach's ---- (?)came to them\nboth. Fer Diad and Cuchulainn performed marvellous feats.\nCuchulainn went and leapt into Fer Diad's shield; Fer Diad hurled\nhim from him thrice into the ford; so that the charioteer taunted\nhim again ---- and he swelled like breath in a bag.\n\nHis size increased till he was greater than Fer Diad.\n\n'Give heed to the _Gae bolga_,' said the charioteer; he sent it to\nhim along the stream.\n\nCuchulainn seized it between his toes, and wielded it on Fer Diad,\ninto his body's armour. It advances like one spear, so that it\nbecame twenty-four points. Then Fer Diad turned the shield below.\nCuchulainn thrust at him with the spear over the shield, so that it\nbroke the shaft of his ribs and went through Fer Diad's heart.\n\n[_Fer Diad_:] 'Strong is the ash from thy right hand! The ---- rib\nbreaks, my heart is blood. Well hast thou given battle! I fall, O\nHound.'\n\n[_Cuchulainn_:] 'Alas, O golden brooch, O Fer Diad! ----, O fair\nstrong striker! Thy hand was victorious; our dear foster\nbrotherhood, O delight of the eyes! Thy shield with the rim of\ngold, thy sword was dear. Thy ring of white silver round thy noble\narm. Thy chess-playing was worthy of a great man. Thy cheek\nfair-purple; thy yellow curling hair was great, it was a fair\ntreasure. Thy soft folded girdle which used to be about thy side.\nThat thou shouldst fall at Cuchulainn's hands was sad, O Calf! Thy\nshield did not suffice which used to be for service. Our combat\nwith thee is not fitting, our horses and our tumult. Fair was the\ngreat hero! every host used to be defeated and put under foot.\nAlas, O golden brooch, O Fer Diad!'\n\n***\n\nTHIS IS THE LONG WARNING OF SUALTAIM\n\nWhile the things that we have related were done, Suallaith heard\nfrom Rath Sualtaim in Mag Murthemne the vexing of his son\nCuchulainn against twelve sons of Gaile Dana [Note: LL,\n'Twenty-seven sons of Calatin.' In the story as related earlier in\nYBL it is 'Gaile Dana with his twenty-seven sons.'] and his\nsister's son. It is then that Sualtaim said:\n\n'Is it heaven that bursts, or the sea over its boundaries, or earth\nthat is destroyed, or the shout of my son against odds?'\n\nThen he comes to his son. Cuchulainn was displeased that he should\ncome to him.\n\n'Though he were slain, I should not have strength to avenge him. Go\nto the Ulstermen,' says Cuchulainn, 'and let them give battle to\nthe warriors at once; if they do not give it, they will not be\navenged for ever.'\n\nWhen his father saw him, there was not in his chariot as much as\nthe point of a rush would cover that was not pierced. His left hand\nwhich the shield protected, twenty wounds were in it.\n\nSualtaim came over to Emain and shouted to the Ulstermen:\n\n'Men are being slain, women carried off, cows driven away!'\n\nHis first shout was from the side of the court; his second from the\nside of the fortress; the third shout was on the mound of the\nhostages in Emain. No one answered; it was the practice of the\nUlstermen that none of them should speak except to Conchobar; and\nConchobar did not speak before the three druids.\n\n'Who takes them, who steals them, who carries them off?' said the\ndruid.\n\nAilill Mac Mata carries them off and steals them and takes them,\nthrough the guidance of Fergus Mac Roich,' said Sualtaim. 'Your\npeople have been enslaved as far as Dun Sobairce; their cows and\ntheir women and their cattle have been taken. Cuchulainn did not\nlet them into Mag Murthemne and into Crich Rois; three months of\nwinter then, bent branches of hazel held together his dress upon\nhim. Dry wisps are on his wounds. He has been wounded so that he\nhas been parted joint from joint.'\n\n'Fitting,' said the druid, 'were the death of the man who has\nspurred on the king.'\n\n'It is fitting for him,' said Conchobar.\n\n'It is fitting for him,' said the Ulstermen.\n\n'True is what Sualtaim says,' said Conchobar; 'from the Monday\nnight of Samain to the Monday night of Candlemas he has been in\nthis foray.'\n\nSualtaim gave a leap out thereupon. He did not think sufficient\nthe answer that he had. He falls on his shield, so that the\nengraved edge of the shield cut his head off. His head is brought\nback into Emain into the house on the shield, and the head says the\nsame word (though some say that he was asleep on the stone, and\nthat he fell thence on to his shield in awaking).\n\n'Too great was this shout,' said Conchobar. 'The sea before them,\nthe heaven over their tops, the earth under their feet. I will\nbring every cow into its milking-yard, and every woman and every\nboy from their house, after the victory in battle.'\n\nThen Conchobar struck his hand on his son, Findchad Fer m-Bend.\nHence he is so called because there were horns of silver on him.\n\n\nTHE MUSTER OF THE ULSTERMEN\n\n\n'Arise, O Findchad, I will send thee to Deda,' etc. [Note:\nRhetoric, followed by a long list of names.]\n\n\nIt was not, difficult for Findchad to take his message, for they\nwere, the whole province of Conchobar, every chief of them,\nawaiting Conchobar; every one was then east and north and west of\nEmain. When they were there, they all came till they were at Emain\nMacha. When they were there, they Beard the uprising of Conchobar\nin Emain. They went past Emain southwards after the host. Their\nfirst march then was from Emain to Irard Cuillend.\n\n'What are you waiting for here?' said Conchobar.\n\n'Waiting for your sons,' said the host. 'They have gone with thirty\nwith them to Temair to seek Eirc, son of Coirpre Niafer and Fedelm\nNoicride. Till their two cantreds should come to us, we will not go\nfrom this place.'\n\n'I will not remain indeed,' said Conchobar, 'till the men of\nIreland know that I have awaked from the sickness in which I was.'\n\nConchobar and Celtchar went with three fifties of chariots, and\nthey brought eight twenties of heads from Ath Airthir Midi; hence\nis Ath Fene. They were there watching the host. And eight twenties\nof women, that was their share of the spoil. Their heads were\nbrought there, and Conchobar and Celtchar sent them to the camp. It\nis there that Celtchar said to Conchobar: [Note: Rhetoric.]\n\n\n(Or it was Cuscraid, the Stammerer of Macha, son of Conchobar, sang\nthis song the night before the battle, after the song which\nLoegaire Buadach had sung, to wit, 'Arise, kings of Macha,' etc.,\nand it would be in the camp it was sung.)\n\nIt was in this night that the vision happened to Dubthach Doeltenga\nof Ulster, when the hosts were on Garach and Irgarach. It is there\nthat he said in his sleep:\n\n\nTHE VISION OF DUBTHACH\n\n'A wonder of a morning,' [Note: Rhetoric.] a wonder of a time, when\nhosts will be confused, kings will be turned, necks will break, the\nsun will grow red, three hosts will be routed by the track of a\nhost about Conchobar. They will strive for their women, they will\nchase their flocks in fight on the morning, heroes will be smitten,\ndogs will be checked (?), horses will be pressed (?), ---- ----,\n---- will drip, from the assemblies of great peoples.'\n\nTherewith they awoke through their sleep (?). The Nemain threw the\nhost into confusion there; a hundred men of them died. There is\nsilence there then; when they heard Cormac Condlongas again (or it\nis Ailill Mac Matae in the camp who sang this):\n\n'The time of Ailill. Great his truce, the truce of Cuillend,' etc.\n[Note: Rhetoric.]\n\n\nTHE MARCH OF THE COMPANIES\n\nWhile these things were being done, the Connaughtman determined to\nsend messengers by the counsel of Ailill and Medb and Fergus, to\nlook at the Ulstermen, to see whether they had reached the plain.\nIt is there that Ailill said:\n\n'Go, O Mac Roth,' said Ailill, 'and look for us whether the men are\nall(?) in the plain of Meath in which we are. If they have not\ncome, I have carried off their spoil and their cows; let them give\nbattle to me, if it suits them. I will not await them here any\nlonger.'\n\nThen Mac Roth went to look at and to watch the plain. He came back\nto Ailill and Medb and Fergus The first time then that Mac Roth\nlooked from the circuit of Sliab Fuait, he saw that all the wild\nbeast came out of the wood, so that they were all in the plain.\n\n'The second time,' said Mac Roth, 'that I surveyed the plain, I saw\na heavy mist that filled the glens and the valleys, so that it made\nthe hills between them like islands in lakes. Then there appeared\nto me sparks of fire out of this great mist: there appeared to me a\nvariegation of every different colour in the world. I saw then\nlightning and din and thunder and a great wind that almost took my\nhair from my head, and threw me on my back; and yet the wind of the\nday was not great.'\n\n'What is it yonder, O Fergus?' said Ailill. 'Say what it means.'\n[Note: Literally, 'is like.']\n\n'That is not hard; this is what it means,' said Fergus: 'This is\nthe Ulstermen after coming out of their sickness. It is they who\nhave come into the wood. The throng and the greatness and the\nviolence of the heroes, it is that which has shaken the wood; it is\nbefore them that the wild beasts have fled into the plain. The\nheavy mist that you saw, which filled the valleys, was the breath\nof those warriors, which filled the glens so that it made the hills\nbetween them like islands in lakes. The lightning and the sparks of\nfire and the many colours that you saw, O Mac Roth,' said Fergus,\n'are the eyes of the warriors from their heads which have shone to\nyou like sparks of fire. The thunder and the din and the noise(?)\nthat you heard, was the whistling of the swords and of the\nivory-hilted weapons, the clatter of arms, the creaking of the\nchariots, the beating of the hoofs of the horses, the strength of\nthe warriors, the roar of the fighting-men, the noise of the\nsoldiers, the great rage and anger and fierceness of the heroes\ngoing in madness to the battle, for the greatness of the rage and\nof the fury(?). They would think they would not reach it at all,'\nsaid Fergus.\n\n'We will await them,' said Ailill; 'we have warriors for them.'\n\n'You will need that,' said Fergus, 'for there will not be found in\nall Ireland, nor in the west of the world, from Greece and Scythia\nwestward to the Orkneys and to the Pillars of Hercules and to the\nTower of Bregon and to the island of Gades, any one who shall\nendure the Ulstermen in their fury and in their rage,' said Fergus.\n\nThen Mac Roth went again to look at the march of the men of Ulster,\nso that he was in their camp at Slemon Midi, and Fergus; and he\ntold them certain tidings, and Mac Roth said in describing them:\n\n'A great company has come, of great fury, mighty, fierce, to the\nhill at Slemon Midi,' said Mac Roth. 'I think there is a cantred\ntherein; they took off their clothing at once, and dug a mound of\nsods under their leader's seat. A warrior fair and tall and long\nand high, beautiful, the fairest of kings his form, in the front of\nthe company. Hair white-yellow has he, and it curly, neat, bushy (?),\nridged, reaching to the hollow of his shoulders. A tunic curly,\npurple, folded round him; a brooch excellent, of red-gold, in his\ncloak on his breast; eyes very grey, very fair, in his head; a face\nproper, purple, has he, and it narrow below and broad above: a\nbeard forked, very curly, gold-yellow he has; a shirt white,\nhooded, with red ornamentation, round about him; a sword gold-hilted\non his shoulders; a white shield with rivets(?) of gold; abroad\ngrey spear-head on a slender shaft in his hand. The fairest of the\nprinces of the world his march, both in host and rage and form and\ndress, both in face and terror and battle and triumph, both in\nprowess and horror and dignity.\n\n'Another company has come there,' said Mac Roth; 'it is next to the\nother in number and quarrelling and dress and terror and horror. A\nfair warrior, heroic, is in the front of this company. A green\ncloak folded round him; a brooch of gold over his arm; hair curly\nand yellow: an ivory-hilted sword with a hilt of ivory at his left.\nA shirt with ---- to his knee; a wound-giving shield with engraved\nedge; the candle of a palace [Note: i.e. spear.] in his hand; a\nring of silver about it, and it runs round along the shaft forward\nto the point, and again it runs to the grip. And that troop sat\ndown on the left hand of the leader of the first troop, and it is\nthus they sat down, with their knees to the ground, and the rims of\ntheir shields against their chins. And I thought there was\nstammering in the speech of the great fierce warrior who is the\nleader of that company.\n\n'Another company has come there,' said Mac Roth; 'its appearance is\nvaster than a cantred; a man brave, difficult, fair, with broad\nhead, before it. Hair dark and curly on him; a beard long, with\nslender points, forked, has he; a cloak dark-grey, ----, folded\nround him; a leaf-shaped brooch of white metal over his breast; a\nwhite, hooded shirt to his knees; a hero's shield with rivets on\nhim; a sword of white silver about his waist; a five-pointed spear\nin his hand. He sat down in front of the leader of the first\ntroop.'\n\n'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'I know indeed,' said Fergus, 'those companies. Conchobar, king of\na province of Ireland, it is he who has sat down on the mound of\nsods. Sencha Mac Aililla, the orator of Ulster, it is he who has\nsat down before him. Cuscraid, the Stammerer of Macha, son of\nConchobar, it is he who has sat down at his father's side. It is\nthe custom for the spear that is in his hand in sport yonder before\nvictory ---- before or after. That is a goodly folk for wounding,\nfor essaying every conflict, that has come,' said Fergus.\n\n'They will find men to speak with them here,' said Medb.\n\n'I swear by the god by whom my people swear,' said Fergus, 'there\nhas not been born in Ireland hitherto a man who would check the\nhost of Ulster.' [Note: Conjectural; the line is corrupt in the MS.]\n\n'Another company has come there,' said Mac Roth. 'Greater than a\ncantred its number. A great warrior, brave, with horror and terror,\nand he mighty, fiery-faced, before it. Hair dark, greyish on him,\nand it smooth-thin on his forehead. Around shield with engraved\nedge on him, a spear five-pointed in his hand, a forked javelin\nbeside him; a hard sword on the back of his head; a purple cloak\nfolded round him; a brooch of gold on his arm; a shirt, white,\nhooded, to his knee.'\n\n'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'He is the putting of a hand on strife; he is a battle champion for\nfight; he is judgment against enemies who has come there; that is,\nEogan Mac Durthacht, King of Fermoy is that,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another company has come, great, fierce, to the hill at Slemon\nMidi,' said Mac Roth. 'They have put their clothing behind them.\nTruly, it is strong, dark, they have come to the hill; heavy is the\nterror and great the horror which they have put upon themselves;\nterrible the clash of arms that they made in marching. A man thick\nof head, brave, like a champion, before it; and he horrible,\nhideous; hair light, grey on him; eyes yellow, great, in his head;\na cloak yellow, with white ---- round about him. A shield,\nwound-giving, with engraved edge, on him, without; a broad spear, a\njavelin with a drop of blood along the shaft; and a spear its match\nwith the blood of enemies along its edge in his hand; a great\nwound-giving sword on his shoulders.'\n\n'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'The man who has so come does not avoid battle or combat or strife:\nthat is, Loegaire the Victorious, Mac Connaid Meic Ilech, from\nImmail from the north,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another great company has come to Slemon Midi to the hill,' said\nMac Roth. 'A warrior thick-necked, fleshy, fair, before that\ncompany. Hair black and curly on him, and he purple, blue-faced;\neyes grey, shining, in his head; a cloak grey, lordly (?), about\nhim; a brooch of white silver therein; a black shield with a boss\nof bronze on it; a spear, covered with eyes, with ---- (?), in his\nhand; a shirt, braided(?), with red ornamentation, about him; a\nsword with a hilt of ivory over his dress outside.'\n\n'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'He is the putting of a hand on a skirmish; he is the wave of a\ngreat sea that drowns little streams; he is a man of three shouts;\nhe is the judgment of ---- of enemies, who so comes,' said Fergus;\n'that is, Munremar Mac Gerrcind, from Moduirn in the north.'\n\n'Another great company has come there to the hill to Slemon Midi,'\nsaid Mac Roth. 'A company very fair, very beautiful, both in number\nand strife and raiment. It is fiercely that they make for the hill;\nthe clatter of arms which they raised in going on their course\nshook the host. A warrior fair, excellent, before the company. Most\nbeautiful of men his form, both in hair and eyes and fear, both in\nraiment and form and voice and whiteness, both in dignity and size\nand beauty, both in weapons and knowledge and adornment, both in\nequipment and armour and fitness, both in honour and wisdom and\nrace.'\n\n'This is his description,' said Fergus; 'he is the brightness of\nfire, the fair man, Fedlimid, who so comes there; he is fierceness\nof warriors, he is the wave of a storm that drowns, he is might\nthat is not endured, with triumphs out of other territories after\ndestruction (?) of his foes; that is Fedlimid ---- ---- there.'\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth, 'which is not fewer than a warlike cantred (?). A warrior\ngreat, brave, grey, proper, ----, in front of it. Hair black,\ncurly, on him; round eyes, grey(?), very high, in his head. A man\nbull-like, strong, rough; a grey cloak about him, with a brooch of\nsilver on his arm; a shirt white, hooded, round him; a sword at his\nside; a red shield with a hard boss of silver on it. A spear with\nthree rivets, broad, in his hand.'\n\n'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'He is the fierce glow of wrath, he is a shaft (?) of every battle;\nhe is the victory of every combat, who has so come there, Connad\nMac Mornai from Callann,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another company has come to the hill at Slemon Midi,' said Mac\nRoth. 'It is the march of an army for greatness. The leader who is\nin front of that company, not common is a warrior fairer both in\nform and attire and equipment. Hair bushy, red-yellow, on him; a\nface proper, purple, well-proportioned; a face narrow below, broad\nabove; lips red, thin; teeth shining, pearly; a voice clear,\nringing; a face fair, purple, shapely; most beautiful of the forms\nof men; a purple cloak folded round him; a brooch with full\nadornment of gold, over his white breast; a bent shield with\nmany-coloured rivets, with a boss of silver, at his left; a long\nspear, grey-edged, with a sharp javelin for attack in his hand; a\nsword gold-hilted, of gold, on his back; a hooded shirt with red\nornamentation about him.'\n\n'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'We know, indeed,' said Fergus. 'He is half of a combat truly,'\nsaid he, 'who so comes there; he is a fence(?) of battle, he is\nfierce rage of a bloodhound; Rochad Mac Fathemain from Bridamae,\nyour son-in-law, is that, who wedded your daughter yonder, that is,\nFindabair.'\n\n'Another company has come to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said Mac\nRoth. 'A warrior with great calves, stout, with great thighs, big,\nin front of that company. Each of his limbs is almost as thick as a\nman. Truly, he is a man down to the ground,' said he. 'Hair black\non him; a face full of wounds, purple, has he; an eye parti-coloured,\nvery high, in his head; a man glorious, dexterous, thus, with\nhorror and terror, who has a wonderful apparel, both raiment and\nweapons and appearance and splendour and dress; he raises himself\nwith the prowess of a warrior, with achievements of ----, with the\npride of wilfulness, with a going through battle to rout\noverwhelming numbers, with wrath upon foes, with a marching on many\nhostile countries without protection. In truth, mightily have they\ncome on their course into Slemon Midi.'\n\n'He was ---- of valour and of prowess, in sooth,' said Fergus; 'he\nwas of ---- pride(?) and of haughtiness, he was ---- of strength\nand dignity, ---- then of armies and hosts of my own foster-brother,\nFergus Mac Leiti, King of Line, point of battle of the north of\nIreland.'\n\n'Another company, great, fierce, has come to the hill, to Slemon\nMidi,' said Mac Roth. 'Strife before it, strange dresses on them. A\nwarrior fair, beautiful, before it; gift of every form, both hair\nand eye and whiteness, both size and strife and fitness; five\nchains of gold on him; a green cloak folded about him; a brooch of\ngold in the cloak over his arm; a shirt white, hooded, about\nhim; the tower of a palace in his hand; a sword gold-hilted on his\nshoulders.'\n\n'Fiery is the bearing of the champion of combat who has so come\nthere,' said Fergus. 'Amorgene, son of Eccet Salach the smith, from\nBuais in the north is that.'\n\n'Another company has come there, to the hill, to Slemon Midi,'\nsaid Mac Roth. It is a drowning for size, it is a fire for\nsplendour, it is a pin for sharpness, it is a battalion for number,\nit is a rock for greatness, it is ---- for might, it is a judgment\nfor its ----, it is thunder for pride. A warrior rough-visaged,\nterrible, in front of this company, and he great-bellied,\nlarge-lipped; rough hair, a grey beard on him; and he great-nosed,\nred-limbed; a dark cloak about him, an iron spike on his cloak; a\nround shield with an engraved edge on him; a rough shirt,\nbraided(?), about him; a great grey spear in his hand, and thirty\nrivets therein; a sword of seven charges of metal on his shoulders.\nAll the host rose before him, and he overthrew multitudes of the\nbattalion about him in going to the hill.'\n\n'He is a head of strife who has so come,' said Fergus; 'he is a\nhalf of battle, he is a warrior for valour, he is a wave of a storm\nwhich drowns, he is a sea over boundaries; that is, Celtchar Mac\nUithechair from Dunlethglaisi in the north.'\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth. 'A warrior of one whiteness in front of it, all white,\nboth hair and eyelashes and beard and equipment; a shield with a\nboss of gold on him, and a sword with a hilt of ivory, and a broad\nspear with rings in his hand. Very heroic has his march come.'\n\n'Dear is the bear, strong-striking, who has so come,' said Fergus;\n'the bear of great deeds against enemies, who breaks men, Feradach\nFind Fechtnach from the grove of Sliab Fuait in the north is that.'\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth. 'A hideous warrior in front of it, and he great-bellied,\nlarge-lipped; his lips as big as the lips of a horse; hair dark,\ncurly, on him, and he himself ----, broad-headed, long-handed; a\ncloak black, hairy, about him; a chain of copper over it, a dark\ngrey buckler over his left hand; a spear with chains in his right\nhand; a long sword on his shoulders.'\n\n'He is a lion red-handed, fierce of ----, who so comes,' said\nFergus. 'He is high of deeds, great in battle, rough; he is a\nraging on the land who is unendurable, Eirrgi Horse-lipped from Bri\nEirge in the north,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth. 'Two warriors, fair, both alike, in front of it; yellow\nhair on them; two white shields with rivets of silver; they are of\nequal age. They lift up their feet and set them down together; it\nis not their manner for either of them to lift up his feet without\nthe other. Two heroes, two splendid flames, two points of battle,\ntwo warriors, two pillars of fight, two dragons, two fires, two\nbattle-soldiers, two champions of combat, two rods (?), two bold\nones, two pets of Ulster about the king.'\n\n'Who are those, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'Fiachna and Fiacha, two sons of Conchobar Mac Nessa, two darlings\nof the north of Ireland,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another company has come to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said Mac\nRoth. 'Three warriors, fiery, noble, blue-faced, before it. Three\nheads of hair very yellow have they; three cloaks of one colour in\nfolds about them; three brooches of gold over their arms, three\nshirts ---- with red ornamentation round about them; three shields\nalike have they; three swords gold-hilted on their shoulders; three\nspears, broad-grey, in their right hands. They are of equal age.'\n\n'Three glorious champions of Coba, three of great deeds of\nMidluachair, three princes of Roth, three veterans of the east of\nSliab Fuait,' said Fergus; 'the three sons of Fiachna are these,\nafter the Bull; that is, Rus and Dairi and Imchath,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth. 'A man lively, fiery, before it; eyes very red, of a\nchampion, in his head; a many-coloured cloak about him; a chain of\nsilver thereon; a grey shield on his left; [a sword] with a hilt of\nsilver at his side; a spear, excellent with a striking of cruelty\nin his vengeful right hand; a shirt white, hooded, to his knee. A\ncompany very red, with wounds, about him, and he himself wounded\nand bleeding.'\n\n'That,' said Fergus, 'is the bold one, unsparing; that is the\ntearing; it is the boar [Note: Ir. _rop_, said to be a beast that\nwounds or gores.] of combat, it is the mad bull; it is the\nvictorious one of Baile; it is the warlike one of the gap; it is\nthe champion of Colptha, the door of war of the north of Ireland:\nthat is, Menn Mac Salchalca from Corann. To avenge his wounds upon\nyou has that man come,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth, 'and they very heroic, mutually willing. A warrior grey,\ngreat, broad, tall, before it. Hair dark, curly, on him; a cloak\nred, woollen, about him; a shirt excellent; a brooch of gold over\nhis arms in his cloak; a sword, excellent, with hilt of white\nsilver on his left; a red shield has he; a spear-head broad-grey on\na fair shaft [Note: Conjecture; the Irish is obscure.] of ash in\nhis hand.\n\n'A man of three strong blows who has so come,' said Fergus; 'a man\nof three roads, a man of three highways, a man of three gifts, a\nman of three shouts, who breaks battles on enemies in another\nprovince: Fergrae Mac Findchoime from Corann is that.'\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth. 'Its appearance is greater than a cantred. A warrior\nwhite-breasted, very fair, before it; like to Ailill yonder in size\nand beauty and equipment and raiment. A crown of gold above his\nhead; a cloak excellent folded about him; a brooch of gold in the\ncloak on his breast; a shirt with red ornamentation round about\nhim; a shield wound-giving with rims of gold; the pillar of a\npalace in his hand; a sword gold-hilted on his shoulders.'\n\n'It is a sea over rivers who has so come, truly,' said Fergus; 'it\nis a fierce glow of fire; his rage towards foes is insupportable:\nFurbaidi Ferbend is that,' said Fergus.\n\n'Another company has come there to the hill, to Slemon Midi,' said\nMac Roth. 'Very heroic, innumerable,' said Mac Roth; 'strange\ngarments, various, about them, different from other companies.\nFamously have they come, both in arms and raiment and dress. A\ngreat host and fierce is that company. A lad flame red before it;\nthe most beautiful of the forms of men his form; ... a shield with\nwhite boss in his hand, the shield of gold and a rim of gold round\nit; a spear sharp, light, with in his hand; a cloak purple,\nfringed, folded about him; a brooch of silver in the cloak, on his\nbreast; a shirt white, hooded, with red ornamentation, about him; a\nsword gold-hilted over his dress outside.'\n\nTherewith Fergus is silent.\n\n\n'I do not know indeed,' said Fergus, 'the like of this lad in\nUlster, except that I think it is the men of Temair about a lad\nproper, wonderful, noble: with Erc, son of Coirpre Niafer and of\nConchobar's daughter. They love not one another; ---- without his\nfather's leave has that man come, to help his grandfather. It is\nthrough the combat of that lad,' said Fergus, 'that you will be\ndefeated in the battle. That lad knows not terror nor fear at\ncoming to you among them into the midst of your battalion. It would\nbe like men that the warriors of the men of Ulster will roar in\nsaving the calf their heart, in striking the battle. There will\ncome to them a feeling of kinship at seeing that lad in the great\nbattle, striking the battle before them. There will be heard the\nrumble of Conchobar's sword like the barking of a watch-dog in\nsaving the lad. He will throw three walls of men about the battle\nin seeking the lad. It will be with the affection of kinsmen that\nthe warriors of Ulster will attack the countless host,' said\nFergus.\n\n'I think it long,' said Mac Roth, 'to be recounting all that I have\nseen, but I have come meanwhile (?) with tidings to you.'\n\n'You have brought it,' said Fergus.\n\n'Conall Cernach has not come with his great company,' said Mac\nRoth; 'the three sons of Conchobar with their three cantreds have\nnot come; Cuchulainn too has not come there after his wounding in\ncombat against odds. Unless it is a warrior with one chariot,' said\nMac Roth, 'I think it would be he who has come there. Two horses ...\nunder his chariot; they are long-tailed, broad-hoofed, broad above,\nnarrow beneath, high-headed, great of curve, thin-mouthed, with\ndistended nostrils. Two wheels black, ----, with tyres even,\nsmooth-running; the body very high, clattering; the tent ...\ntherein; the pillars carved. The warrior in that chariot four-square,\npurple-faced; hair cropped short on the top, curly, very black has\nhe, down to his shoulders; ... a cloak red about him; four thirties\nof feat-poles (?) in each of his two arms. A sword gold-hilted on\nhis left; shield and spear has he, and twenty-four javelins about\nhim on strings and thongs. The charioteer in front of him; the back\nof the charioteer's head towards the horses, the reins grasped by\nhis toes (?) before him; the chessboard spread between them, half\nthe men of yellow gold, the others of white metal; the _buanfach_\n[Note: the name of a game; probably in the nature of chess or\ndraughts.] under their thighs. Nine feats were performed by him on\nhigh.'\n\n'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.\n\n'An easy question,' said Fergus. 'Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim from the\n_Sid_, [Note: Cuchulainn was of fairy birth.] and Loeg Mac\nRiangabra his charioteer. Cuchulainn is that,' said Fergus.\n\n'Many hundreds and thousands,' said Mac Roth, 'have reached the\ncamp of Ulster. Many heroes and champions and fighting-men have\ncome with a race to the assembly. Many companies,' said Mac Roth,\n'were reaching the same camp, of those who had not reached or come\nto the camp when I came; only,' said Mac Roth, 'my eye did not\nrest on hill or height of all that my eye reached from Fer Diad's\nFord to Slemon Midi, but upon horse and man.'\n\n'You saw the household of a man truly,' said Fergus.\n\nThen Conchobar went with his hosts and took camp near the others.\nConchobar asked for a truce till sunrise on the morrow from Ailill,\nand Ailill ratified it for the men of Ireland and for the exiles,\nand Conchobar ratified it for the Ulstermen; and then Conchobar's\ntents are pitched. The ground between them is a space, ----, bare,\nand the Ulstermen came to it before sunset. Then said the Morrigan\nin the twilight between the two camps: [Note: Rhetoric, seven lines]\n\n***\n\nNow Cuchulainn was at Fedan Chollna near them. Food was brought to\nhim by the hospitallers that night; and they used to come to speak\nto him by day.\n\nHe did not kill any of them to the left of Fer Diad's Ford.\n\n'Here is a small herd from the camp from the west to the camp to\nthe east,' said the charioteer to Cuchulainn. 'Here is a troop of\nlads to meet them.'\n\n'Those lads shall come,' said Cuchulainn. 'The little herd shall\ncome over the plain. He who will not ---- (?) shall come to help\nthe lads.'\n\nThis was done then as Cuchulainn had said.\n\n'How do the lads of Ulster fight the battle?'\n\n'Like men,' said the charioteer.\n\n'It would be a vow for them, to fall in rescuing their herds,' said\nCuchulainn. 'And now?'\n\n'The beardless striplings are fighting now,' said the charioteer.\n\n\n'Has a bright cloud come over the sun yet?'\n\n'Not so,' said the charioteer.\n\n'Alas, that I had not strength to go to them!' said Cuchulainn.\n\n\n'There will be contest without that to-day,' said the charioteer,\n'at sunrise; haughty folk fight the battle now,' said the\ncharioteer, 'save that there are not kings there, for they are\nstill asleep.'\n\nThen Fachna said when the sun rose (or it is Conchobar who sang in\nhis sleep):\n\n'Arise, Kings of Macha, of mighty deeds, noble household, grind\nyour weapons, fight the battle,' etc.\n\n'Who has sung this?' said every one.\n\n'Conchobar Mac Nessa,' said they; 'or Fachtna sang it,' said they.\n'Sleep, sleep, save your sentinels.'\n\nLoegaire the Victorious was heard: 'Arise, Kings of Macha,' etc.\n\n'Who has sung that?' said every one.\n\n'Loegaire the Victorious, son of Connad Buide Mac Ilech. Sleep,\nsleep, except your sentinels.'\n\n'Wait for it still,' said Conchobar, 'till sunrise ... in the glens\nand heights of Ireland.'\n\nWhen Cuchulainn saw the kings from the east taking their crowns on\ntheir heads and marshalling (?) the companies, Cuchulainn said to\nhis charioteer that he should awaken the Ulstermen; and the\ncharioteer said (or it is Amairgen, son of Eccet the poet, who\nsaid):\n\n'Arise, Kings of Macha,' etc.\n\n'I have awakened them,' said the charioteer. 'Thus have they come\nto the battle, quite naked, except for their arms only. He, the\ndoor of whose tent is east, has come out through it west.'\n\n'It is a \"goodly help of necessity,\"' said Cuchulainn.\n\nThe adventures of the Ulstermen are not followed up here now. As\nfor the men of Ireland, Badb and Net's wife and Nemain [Note:\nNemain was the wife of Net, the war-god, according to Cormac.]\ncalled upon them that night on Garach and Irgarach, so that a\nhundred warriors of them died for terror; that was not the most\npeaceful of nights for them.\n\nTHE MUSTER OF THE MEN OF IRELAND HERE\n\nAilill Mac Matae sang that night before the battle, and said:\n'Arise, arise,' etc [Note: Here follows a list of names.]\n\nAs for Cuchulainn, this is what is told here now.\n\n'Look for us, O my friend, O Loeg, how the Ulstermen are fighting\nthe battle now.'\n\n'Like men,' said the charioteer.\n\n'Though I were to go with my chariot, and Oen the charioteer of\nConall Cernach with his chariot, so that we should go from one wing\nto the other along the dense mass, neither hoofs nor tyres shall go\nthrough it.'\n\n'That is the stuff for a great battle,' said Cuchulainn. 'Nothing\nmust be done in the battle,' said Cuchulainn to his charioteer,\n'that we shall not know from you.'\n\n'That will be true, so far as I can,' said the charioteer. 'The\nplace where the warriors are now from the west,' said the\ncharioteer, 'they make a breach in the battle eastwards. Their\nfirst defence from the east, they make a breach in the battle\nwestwards.'\n\n'Alas! that I am not whole!' said Cuchulainn; 'my breach would be\nmanifest like the rest.'\n\nThen came the men of the bodyguard to the ford of the hosting. Fine\nthe way in which the fightingmen came to the battle on Garach and\nIrgarach. Then came the nine chariot-men of the champions of\nIruath, three before them on foot. Not more slowly did they come\nthan the chariot-men. Medb did not let them into the battle, for\ndragging Ailill out of the battle if it is him they should defeat,\nor for killing Conchobar if it is he who should be defeated.\n\nThen his charioteer told Cuchulainn that Ailill and Medb were\nasking Fergus to go into the battle; and they said to him that it\nwas only right for him to do it, for they had done him much\nkindness on his exile.\n\n'If I had my sword indeed,' said Fergus, 'the heads of men over\nshields would be more numerous with me than hailstones in the mire\nto which come the horses of a king after they have broken into the\nland (?).'\n\nThen Fergus made this oath: 'I swear, etc., there would be broken\nby me cheeks of men from their necks, necks of men with their\n(lower) arms, arms of men with their elbows, elbows of men with\ntheir arms, arms of men with their fists, fists of men with their\nfingers, fingers of men with their nails, [nails] of men with their\nskull-roofs, skull-roofs of men with their middle, middle of men\nwith their thighs, thighs of men with their knees, knees of men\nwith their calves, calves of men with their feet, feet of men with\ntheir toes, toes of men with their nails. I would make their necks\nwhizz (?) ---- as a bee would move to and fro on a day of beauty (?).'\n\nThen Ailill said to his charioteer: 'Let there come to me the\nsword which destroys skin. I swear by the god by whom my people\nswear, if you have its bloom worse to-day than on the day on which\nI gave it to you in the hillside in the boundary of Ulster, though\nthe men of Ireland were protecting you from me, they should not\nprotect you.'\n\nThen his sword was brought to Fergus, and Ailill said: 'Take thy\nsword,' etc. [Note: Rhetoric, twelve lines.]\n\n'A pity for thee to fall on the field of battle, thick [with slain ?],'\nsaid Fergus to Ailill.\n\nThe Badb and Net's wife and the Nemain called on them that night on\nGarach and Irgarach; so that a hundred warriors of them died for\nterror. That was not the quietest of nights for them.\n\nThen Fergus takes his arms and turns into the battle, and clears a\ngap of a hundred in the battle with his sword in his two hands.\nThen Medb took the arms of Fergus (?) and rushed into the battle,\nand she was victorious thrice, so that she was driven back by force\nof arms.\n\n'I do not know,' said Conchobar to his retinue who were round him,\n'before whom has the battle been broken against us from the north.\nDo you maintain the fight here, that I may go against him.'\n\n'We will hold the place in which we are,' said the warriors,\n'unless the earth bursts beneath us, or the heaven upon us from\nabove, so that we shall break therefrom.'\n\nThen Conchobar came against Fergus. He lifts his shield against\nhim, i.e. Conchobar's shield Ochan, with three horns of gold on it,\nand four ----- of gold over it. Fergus strikes three blows on it,\nso that even the rim of his shield over his head did not touch him.\n\n'Who of the Ulstermen holds the shield?' said Fergus.\n\n'A man who is better than you,' said Conchobar; 'and he has brought\nyou into exile into the dwellings of wolves and foxes, and he will\nrepel you to-day in combat in the presence of the men of Ireland.'\n\nFergus aimed on him a blow of vengeance with his two hands on\nConchobar, so that the point of the sword touched the ground behind\nhim.\n\nCormac Condlongas put his hands upon him, and closed his two hands\nabout his arm.\n\n'----, O my friend, O Fergus,' said Cormac. '... Hostile is the\nfriendship; right is your enmity; your compact has been destroyed;\nevil are the blows that you strike, O friend, O Fergus,' said\nCormac.\n\n'Whom shall I smite?' said Fergus.\n\n'Smite the three hills ... in some other direction over them; turn\nyour hand; smite about you on every side, and have no consideration\nfor them. Take thought for the honour of Ulster: what has not been\nlost shall not be lost, if it be not lost through you to-day (?).\n\n'Go in some other direction, O Conchobar,' said Cormac to his\nfather; 'this man will not put out his rage on the Ulstermen any\nmore here.'\n\nFergus turned away. He slew a hundred warriors of Ulster in the\nfirst combat with the sword. He met Conall Cernach.\n\n'Too great rage is that,' said Conall Cernach, 'on people and race,\nfor a wanton.'\n\n'What shall I do, O warriors?' said he.\n\n'Smite the hills across them and the champions (?) round them,'\nsaid Conall Cernach.\n\nFergus smote the hills then, so that he struck the three Maela\n[Note: i.e. flat-topped hills.] of Meath with his three blows.\nCuchulainn heard the blows then that Fergus gave on the hills or on\nthe shield of Conchobar himself.\n\n'Who strikes the three strong blows, great and distant?' said\nCuchulainn.\n\n... Then Loeg answered and said: 'The choice of men, Fergus Mac\nRoich the very bold, smites them.' ...\n\nThen Cuchulainn said: 'Unloose quickly the hazeltwigs; blood covers\nmen, play of swords will be made, men will be spent therefrom.'\n\nThen his dry wisps spring from him on high, as far as ---- goes;\nand his hazel-twigs spring off, till they were in Mag Tuag in\nConnaught ... and he smote the head of each of the two handmaidens\nagainst the other, so that each of them was grey from the brain of\nthe other. They came from Medb for pretended lamentation over him,\nthat his wounds might burst forth on him; and to say that the\nUlstermen had been defeated, and that Fergus had fallen in opposing\nthe battle, since Cuchulainn's coming into the battle had been\nprevented. The contortion came on him, and twenty-seven skin-tunics\nwere given to him, that used to be about him under strings and\nthongs when he went into battle; and he takes his chariot on his\nback with its body and its two tyres, and he made for Fergus round\nabout the battle.\n\n'Turn hither, O friend Fergus,' said Cuchulainn; and he did not\nanswer till the third time. 'I swear by the god by whom the\nUlstermen swear,' said he, 'I will wash thee as foam [Note: Reading\nwith L.L.] (?) is washed in a pool, I will go over thee as the tail\ngoes over a cat, I will smite thee as a fond mother smites her son.'\n\n'Which of the men of Ireland speaks thus to me?' said Fergus.\n\n'Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim, sister's son to Conchobar,' said\nCuchulainn; 'and avoid me,' said he.\n\n'I have promised even that,' said Fergus.\n\n'Your promise falls due, then,' said Cuchulainn.\n\n'Good,' said Fergus, '(you avoided me), when you are pierced with\nwounds.'\n\nThen Fergus went away with his cantred; the Leinstermen go and the\nMunstermen; and they left in the battle nine cantreds of Medb's and\nAilill's and their seven sons.\n\nIn the middle of the day it is that Cuchulainn came into the\nbattle; when the sun came into the leaves of the wood, it is then\nthat he defeated the last company, so that there remained of the\nchariot only a handful of the ribs about the body, and a handful of\nthe shafts about the wheel.\n\nCuchulainn overtook Medb then when he went into the battle.\n\n'Protect me,' said Medb.\n\n'Though I should slay thee with a slaying, it were lawful for me,'\nsaid Cuchulainn.\n\nThen he protected her, because he used not to slay women. He\nconvoyed them westward, till they passed Ath Luain. Then he\nstopped. He struck three blows with his sword on the stone in Ath\nLuain. Their name is the Maelana [Note: i.e., flat-topped hills] of\nAth Luain.\n\nWhen the battle was broken, then said Medb to Fergus: 'Faults and\nmeet here to-day, O Fergus,' said she.\n\n'It is customary,' said Fergus, 'to every herd which a mare\nprecedes; ... after a woman who has ill consulted their interest.'\n\nThey take away the Bull then in that morning of the battle, so that\nhe met the White-horned at Tarbga in Mag Ai; i.e. Tarbguba or\nTarbgleo.[Note: 'Bull-Sorrow or Bull-Fight,' etymological\nexplanation of Tarbga.] The first name of that hill was Roi Dedond.\nEvery one who escaped in the fight was intent on nothing but\nbeholding the two Bulls fighting.\n\nBricriu Poison-tongue was in the west in his sadness after Fergus\nhad broken his head with his draughtmen [Note: This story is told\nin the _Echtra Nerai_. (See _Revue Celtique_, vol. x. p. 227.)] He\ncame with the rest then to see the combat of the Bulls. The two\nBulls went in fighting over Bricriu, so that he died therefrom.\nThat is the Death of Bricriu.\n\nThe foot of the Dun of Cualnge lighted on the horn of the other.\nFor a day and a night he did not draw his foot towards him, till\nFergus incited him and plied a rod along his body.\n\n''Twere no good luck,' said Fergus, 'that this conbative old calf\nwhich has been brought here should leave the honour of clan and\nrace; and on both sides men have been left dead through you.'\nTherewith he drew his foot to him so that his leg (?) was broken,\nand the horn sprang from the other and was in the mountain by him.\nIt was Sliab n-Adarca [Note: Mountain of the Horn.] afterwards.\n\nHe carried them then a journey of a day and a night, till he\nlighted in the loch which is by Cruachan, and he came to Cruachan\nout of it with the loin and the shoulder-blade and the liver of the\nother on his horns. Then the hosts came to kill him. Fergus did not\nallow it, but that he should go where he pleased. He came then to\nhis land and drank a draught in Findlethe on coming. It is there\nthat he left the shoulderblade of the other. Findlethe afterwards\nwas the name of the land. He drank another draught in Ath Luain; he\nleft the loin of the other there: hence is Ath Luain. He gave forth\nhis roar on Iraird Chuillend; it was heard through all the\nprovince. He drank a draught in Tromma. There the liver of the\nother fell from his horns; hence is Tromma. He came to Etan Tairb.\n[Note: The Bull's Forehead.] He put his forehead against the hill\nat Ath Da Ferta; hence is Etan Tairb in Mag Murthemne. Then he went\non the road of Midluachair in Cuib. There he used to be with the\nmilkless cow of Dairi, and he made a trench there. Hence is Gort\nBuraig. [Note: The Field of the Trench.] Then he went till he died\nbetween Ulster and Iveagh at Druim Tairb. Druim Tairb is the name\nof that place.\n\nAilill and Medb made peace with the Ulstermen and with Cuchulainn.\nFor seven years after there was no wounding of men between them.\nFindabair stayed with Cuchulainn, and the Connaughtmen went to\ntheir country, and the Ulstermen to Emain Macha with their great\ntriumph. Finit, amen.","title":"The Cattle-Raid of Cualnge (Tain Bo Cualnge) : An Old Irish Prose-Epic","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":42617}