🧚 Opening, part 11

FRAGMENT I.1

_THE CAUSE OF THE GREAT WAR.2

ARGUMENT.3

Meave, Queen of Connacht,[24] and Ailill her husband, waking one morning fall into a disputation, each claiming to be the worthier of the two, and the wealthier.4 Their lords decide that the king and queen are great and happy alike in all things save one only, namely, that Ailill possesses the far-famed white Bull, Fionbannah.5 Meave hearing that Conor Conchobar, King of Uladh,[25] boasts a black Bull mightier yet, is fain to purchase it, but cannot prevail so far.6 She therefore declares war against Uladh.7 There meets her Faythleen the Witch, who prophesies calamity, but promises that in aid of Meave she will breathe over the realm of Uladh a spirit of imbecility.8 This she does; yet Cuchullain, unaided, afflicts the whole army of Meave by exploits which to him are but sports.9 Fergus, the exiled King of Uladh, narrates to Meave the high deeds of Cuchullain wrought in his childhood.10

In Cruachan, old Connacht’s palace pile, Dwelt Meave, the queen, haughtiest of woman’s kind, A warrioress untamed that made her will The measure of the world.11 The all-conquering years Conquered not her: the strength of endless prime Lived in her royal tread and breast and eye A life immortal.12 Queenly was her brow; Fulgent her eye; her countenance beauteous, save When wrath o’er-flamed its beauty.13 With her dwelt Ailill her husband, trivial man and quaint, And early old.14 He had not chosen her: She chose a consort who should rule her not, And tossed him to her throne.15 In youth her lord Was Conor Conchobar, great Uladh’s King: She had not found him docile to her will, And to her sire returned.16 The August morn Had trailed already on the stony floor Its fiery beam when, laughing, Ailill woke: He woke, awakened by a sound that shook The forest dews to earth, Fionbannah’s roar, That snow-white Bull, the wonder of the age, Who, born amid the lowlands of the queen, Yet, grown to strength, o’er-leaped her bound and roamed Thenceforth the leaner pastures of the king, For this cause, that his spirit scorned to live In female vassalage.17 That tale recalling King Ailill laughed: his laughter roused the queen: She woke in wrath: to assuage her Ailill spake; ‘Happy and blest that dame whose lord is sage!18 Thy fortunes, wife of mine, began that day I called thee spouse!’19 To him the queen, ‘My sire Was Erin’s Ard-Righ!20 [26] Daughters six had he: I, Meave, of these was fairest and most famed!21 This Cruachan was mine before we met; And all the Island’s princes sued my hand.22 I spurned their offers! three things I required-- A warrior proved, since great at arms am I; A liberal hand, since lavish I of gifts; A man not jealous, since, in love as war, There where I willed I ever cast mine eyes.23 These merits three were yours: I beckoned to you: Dowered you with ingots thicker than your wrist; Made you a king, or kingling.24 What of that?25 I might have chosen a better!26 Yea, I count My greatness more than yours!’27 With treble shrill Ailill replied; ‘What words are these, my queen?28 My father was a king; my brothers kings!29 My hoards are higher heaped than yours; my meads More deep, more rich!’30 Then loudly stormed the queen:-- In rushed her lords, and stood, a senate grave, Circling the couch: and while, each answering each, Ailill and Meave set forth in order due The treasures either boasted, kine, or sheep, Rich cornfield, jewel’d robe, or gem-wrought car, Careful they weighed the lists in equal scale And ’twixt them found in value difference none.31 Doubtful they stood.32 Anon rolled forth once more Fionbannah’s roar; and, leaping from his bed King Ailill shouted; ‘Mine, not thine, that Bull!33 Through him my treasure passes thine, my queen!34 My worth exceeds thy worth!’35 At once forth stepped Mac Roth, old Connacht’s herald, with this word: ‘Great queen, the King of Uladh boasts a Bull Lordlier than ours, a broader bulk, and black, Black as the raven’s wing!36 In Daré’s charge That marvel bides, the Donn Cuailgné named Because his lowings shake Cuailgné’s shore, The southern bound of Uladh.37 Privilege He hath that neither witch nor demon tempt That precinct where he harbours.’38 Meave exclaimed, ‘Fly hence, Mac Roth!39 Take with thee golden store, Rich garments, chariots gemmed: bid Daré choose; But bring me back that Bull!’40 Three days had passed: Then by the tower of Daré stood Mac Roth And blew his horn; and Daré’s sons with speed Flung the gate wide.41 The herald entered in And spake his message.42 Proudly Daré mused, ‘Great Meave my friendship sues;’ and made a feast, And, when the wine had warmed him spake; ‘Mac Roth!43 Cuailgné’s Donn is Conor’s Bull, not mine: Yet, though the king should hurl me outcast forth, To Meave that Bull shall go and bide a year.44 Tell her the Donn is manlike in his mind, And not like Bulls.45 Long summer eves he stands, Or paces stately up the mead and down Eyeing the racing youths, or glad at heart Listening the music.’46 Thus he pledged his faith.47 But Daré’s sons at midnight, each to each, Whispered; ‘the king will chase us from the realm!48 He hates Queen Meave, and well he loves the Donn;’ And stood next morn beside their sire, and spake, ‘Mac Roth is gone a hunting: ere he went He sware that you had yielded him the Donn Fearing his sword.’49 Then Daré’s heart was changed, And loud by all his swearing Gods he sware ‘Cuailgné’s Donn shall ne’er consort with Meave, Nor with her kine:’ and on his gate he set The castle’s Fool waiting Mac Roth’s return, And charged him with this greeting; ‘Back to Meave!50 Thy queen she is, not Uladh’s!51 Bid her know Our Donn and we revere Fionbannah’s choice, Her Bull, that leaped her gate and swam her flood, Spurning the female rule!’52 Then turned Mac Roth His car; and sideway shook one hand irate; And lashed the steeds, and reached great Cruachan, And, instant upon all who heard his tale Like lightning fell the battle rage.53 The queen, Sent forth her heralds, east, and west, and south, Summoning her great allies.54 Erin, that day Save Uladh only, stood conjoined with Meave, Great kings, and warriors named from chiefs of old Sons of Milesius; for King Conor’s craft And that proud onset of the Red-Branch Knights Year after year had galled their hearts. ’55 Twas come!56 The day of vengeance!57 In their might they rose From Eyrus’ vales to utmost Cahirnane, From Oileen Arda on to Borda Lu, And where the loud wave breaks on Beara’s isle; And by the hallowed banks of Darvra’s lake Where, changed to swans, the Children Four of Lir, Dowerless on earth, their home the homeless waves, Darkling yet gladdening gloomier hearts with light, And sad yet solaced through one conquering hope, By song had vanquished sorrow.58 From the West, Came Inachall, and Adarc.59 Eiderkool Marched, ever shrilling songs and shaking spears: And, mightier far, with never slumbering hearts And eyes that stared through long desire of home Uladh’s three thousand exiles, driven far forth When Conor Conchobar, trampling his pledge, Slaughtered the sons of Usnach.60 At their head Rode Fergus, Uladh’s King ere traitor yet Had filched its royal crown; and by his side, Faithful in exile, Cormac Conlinglas, King Conor’s bravest son.61 That host the queen To Ai led, where Ai’s four great plains Shine in the rising and the setting sun, Gold-green, with all their flag-flowers, meres, and streams: There planted she her camp; thence ever rang Neighing of horse, and tempest song of bard, And graver voice of prophet and of seer Who ceased not, day or night, for fifteen days From warnings to the people, ‘Be ye one;’-- Yet one the people were not.62 Meave the while, Resting upon those great and growing hosts Her widening eyes, rejoiced within, and clutched The sceptre-staff with closer grasp, and heaved Higher her solid, broad, imperial breast, Amorous of battle nigh at hand.63 Yet oft, Listening those bickerings in her camp she frowned: For still the chieftains strove; and one, a king Briarind, had tongue so sharp, where’er he moved A guard was round him set lest spleen of his Should set the monarchs ravening each on each.64 ‘The hand of Fergus,’ mused she, ‘that alone Might solder yonder mass.65 Men note in him His front, his voice, his stature, and his step, The one time King of Uladh.66 Held he rule-- He shall not for my will endures it not!67 He props my war because, long years our guest, His honour needs not less; with us he marches Athirst for vengeance and his native land, Yet scoffs our cause, and sent, spurning surprise, To Uladh challenge loud.’68 Again she mused, ‘A man love-worthy if he loved again!-- At best ’twould be to him a moment’s sport!69 The battle and the stag-hunt, these alone, He counts a prince’s pastimes!’70 Sudden from heaven Eclipse there fell on Ai’s spacious plains, And shadow black; these noting, Meave revolved That dread Red Branch in act and counsel one; And, brooding thus, with inner eye she saw No longer men but skeletons of men Innumerable in intertangled mass Burthening the fields far spread.71 Aloud she cried, ‘On to Moytura where the prophet dwells;’ And straight her charioteer the horses smote And tamed them with the reins: and lo! what time The noontide sun with keenest splendour blazed, Right opposite upon the chariot’s beam There sat a wondrous woman phantom-faced Singing and weaving.72 Shapely was that head Bent o’er her web, while back the sun-like hair Streamed on the wind.73 One hand upreared a sword: Seven chains fell from it.74 Sea-blue were her eyes, And berry-red her scornful lip; her cheek White as the snow-drift of a single night; Her voice like harp-strings when the harper’s hand Half drowns their pathos.75 Close as bark to tree The azure robe clung to that virgin form Sinewy and long, and reached the shining feet.76 Then spake the queen; ‘What see’st thou in that web?’77 And she, ‘I see a kingdom’s destinies; And they are like a countenance dashed with blood: Faythleen am I, the Witch.’78 To her the queen; ‘I bid thee say what see’st thou in my host, Faythleen, the Witch!’79 And Faythleen answered slow, ‘The hue of blood: sunset on sunset charged.’80 Then fixed that Wild One on the North her eyes, And Meave made answer; ‘In those eyes I see The fates they see; great Uladh’s realm full-armed, And all that Red Branch Order as one man.’81 Faythleen replied; ‘One man alone I see; One man, yet mightier than a realm in arms!82 That Watch-Hound watching still by Uladh’s gate Is mightier thrice than Uladh: on his brow Spring-tide sits throned; yet ruin loads his hand.83 If e’er Cuchullain rides in Uladh’s van Flee to thy hills and isles!’84 Meave bit her lip: But wildly sang the Witch; ‘Faythleen am I, Thy People’s patron mid the Powers unseen: Beware that youth invisible for speed, Who hears that whisper none beside can hear, Sees what none other sees; before whose eye The wild beast cowers, subdued!85 Beware that youth Slender as maid, whose stature in the fight Rises gigantic.86 Gamesome he and mild; To woman reverent and the hoary hair; Nor alms he stints nor incense to the Gods; But when from heaven the anger on him breaks Pity he knows for none.87 No pact with him!88 Return with speed and march to-morrow morn: The clan of Cailitin shall yield thee aid, That magic clan which fights with poisoned darts.89 To Uladh I, above her realm to spread Mantle of darkness, and a mind that errs, And powerlessness, and shame.’90 Due north she sped, Far fleeting, wind-upborne! ’twixt hill and cloud, To Uladh’s cliffs, and thence with prone descent Sank to the myriad-murmuring sea wine-dark, And whispered to the Genii of the deep, Her sisters:--then from ocean’s breast there rose A mist, no larger than a dead man’s shroud, That, slowly widening, spread o’er Uladh’s realm Mantle of darkness, and an erring mind, And powerlessness, and shame.91 The queen returned, And reached her host what time the sunset glare With omnipresent splendour girt it round, Concourse immortalised.92 Thereon she gazed High standing in her chariot, spear in hand: Her too that army saw, and raised the shout.93 But Fergus, as she passed him spake: ‘not yet Know’st thou my Uladh, nor the Red Branch Knights; And one man is there mightier thrice than they.’94 Meantime within Murthemné’s land its lord Cuchullain, musing like a listening hound, For many a rumour filled that time the air, Sat in remote Dûn Dalgan[27] all alone, Chief city of his realm.95 On Uladh’s verge Southward that lesser realm dependent lay Girt by a racing river.96 Silent long He watched: at last he heard a sound like wind97

In woods remote; and earthward bowed his head; And said; ‘that sound is distant thirty leagues, And huge that host;’ then bade prepare his car, And southward sped, counsel to hold as wont With Faythleen nigh to Tara.98 Eve grew dim When lo! a chariot from the woods emerged In swift pursuit: an old man urged the steeds, A grey old man that chattered evermore With blinking eyes that ceased not from amaze.99 That sight displeased Cuchullain: ne’ertheless He stayed his course; and Saltain soon drew nigh, Clamouring, ‘O son--and when was son like thee-- Forsake not thou thy father!100 In old time, Then when some God had laid on me his hand, Dectara, my wife, immured me in my house, Year after year, and weighed the lessening dole: But thou, to manhood grown, though even to her Reverent, didst pluck her from that place usurped, Lifting thy poor old father.’101 At that word Cuchullain left his car, and kissed his sire, And soothed his wandering wits with meat and wine; And spake dissembling; ‘lo, these mantles warm!102 Prescient, for thee I stored them!103 Night is near; Lie down and rest.’104 Thus speaking, with both hands Deftly he spread them wide; and Saltain slept: Then, tethering first the horses of his sire, Lastly his own, upon the chill, wet grass He likewise lay, and slept not.105 On, at dawn They drave; but Faythleen, witch perverse of will, That oft through spleenful change her purpose slew, Had broken tryst; and northward they returned.106 That day Cuchullain clomb a rock tree-girt And kenned beyond the forest’s roof a host Innumerable, the standards of Queen Meave, And Fergus, and the great confederate kings.107 The warrior eyed them long with bitter smile; Few words he spake: ‘At fifty thousand men I count them.’108 To his father then he turned: ‘Haste to Emania!109 Bid the Red Branch Knights Attend me in Murthemné.110 I till then Hang on the invaders’ flank, a fiery scourge.’111 Saltain made answer: ‘Be it! northward I: But Dectara, thy mother, and my wife, Till thou art by my side I will not see; For dreadful are her eyes as death or fate; And many deem her mad.’112 He spake, and drave Northward; nor ceased from chatterings all day long, Since, like a Poplar, vocal was the man Not less than visible.113 Meantime his son Took counsel in his heart, and made resolve To skirt, in homeward course, that eastern sea, The woods primeval ’twixt him and the foe, Still sallying night and day through alley and glade And taming thus their pride.114 Three days went by: Then stood Cuchullain where great wood-ways met; And lo! betwixt four yews a warrior’s grave, The pillar-stone above it!115 O’er that stone In mirthful mood he twined an osier wreath, Cyphering thereon his name in Ogham signs: For thus he said; ‘On no man unawares Fall I, but warned.’116 The hostile host approached, And, halting stood in wonder at that wreath; Yet none could spell the Ogham.117 Last drew nigh Fergus, and read it: on him fell that hour Memories full dear, and loud he sang and long; He sang a warrior’s praise: yet named him not; He sang; ‘From name of man to name of beast A warrior changed: then mightiest grew of men!’118 And, as he sang, the cheek of Meave grew red.119 Next morn Neara’s sons outsped the rest Car-borne with brandished spears; and, ere the dew Was lifted, came to where Cuchullain sat Beneath an oak, sporting with black-birds twain That followed him for aye.120 Toward the youths He waved his hand; ‘Away, for ye are young!’121 In answer forth they flung their spears: he caught them, And snapt them on his knee; next, swift as fire, Sprang on the twain, and slew them with his sword, One blow:--anon he loosed their horses’ bits, And they, with madness winged, rejoined the host, Bearing those headless bulks.122 Forth looked the queen; Beheld; and, trembling, cried; ‘It might have been Orloff, my son!’123 That eve, at banquet ranged The warriors questioned Fergus; ‘Who is best Among the Uladh chiefs?’124 Ere answer came King Conor’s son self-exiled, Conlinglas, Upleaping cried, ‘Cuchullain is his name!125 Cuchullain!126 From his childhood man was he!127 On Eman Macha[28] ever was his thought, Its walls, its bulwarks, and its Red Branch Knights, The wonder of the world.’128 Then told the prince How, when his mother mocked his zeal, that child Fared forth alone, with wooden sword and shield, And fife, and silver ball; and how he hurled His little spears before him as he ran, And caught them ere they fell; and how, arrived, He spurned great Eman’s gates, and scaled its wall, And lighted in the pleasaunce of the king, His mother’s brother, Conor Conchobar; And how the noble youths of all that land There trained in warlike arts, had on him dashed With insult and with blows: and how the child This way and that had hurled them, while the king Who sat that hour with Fergus, playing chess, Gazed from his turret wondering.129 Next he told How to that child, Setanta first, there fell Cuchullain’s nobler name.130 ‘To Eman near There dwelt an armourer, Cullain was his name, That earliest rose, and latest with his forge Reddened the night: mail-clad in might of his The Red Branch Knights forth rode; the bard, the chief Claimed him for friend.131 One day, when Conor’s self Partook his feast, the armourer held discourse; “The Gods have made my house a house of fame: The craftsmen grin and grudge because I prosper: The forest bandits hunger for my goods, Yea, and would eat mine anvil if they might-- Trow ye what saves me, Sirs?132 A Hound is mine, Each eve I loose him, lion-like, and fell; The blood of many a rogue is on his mouth: The bravest, if they hear him bay far off, Flee like a deer!”133 Setanta’s shout rang loud That moment at the gate, and, with it blent, The baying of that hound!134 “The boy is dead,” King Conor cried in horror.135 Forth they rushed-- There stood he, bright and calm, his rigid hands Clasping the dead hound’s throat!136 They wept for joy: The armourer wept for grief.137 “My friend is dead!138 My friend that kept my house and me at peace: My friend that loved his lord!”139 Setanta heard Then first that cry forth issuing from the heart Of him whose labour wins his children’s bread; That cry he honours yet.140 Red-cheeked he spake; “Cullain! unwittingly I did thee wrong!141 I make amends.142 I, child of kings, henceforth Abide, thy watch-hound, warder of thy house.”143 Thenceforth the ‘Hound of Cullain’[29] was his name, And Cullain’s house well warded.’144 Stern of brow The queen arose: ‘Enough of fables, lords!145 Drink to the victory!146 Ere yon moon is dead We knock at gates of Eman.’147 High she held The crimson goblet.148 Instant, felt ere heard, Vibration strange troubled the moonlit air; A long-drawn hiss o’er-ran it: then a cry, Death-cry of warrior wounded to the death.149 They rose: they gazed around: upon a rock Cuchullain stood.150 The warrior said in heart, ‘I will not slay her; yet her pride shall die!’151 Again that hiss: instant the golden crown Fell from her head!152 In anger round she glared:-- Once more that hiss long-drawn, and in her hand The goblet, shivered, stood!153 She cast it down; She cried; ‘Since first I sat, a queen new-crowned, Never such ignominy, or spleen of scorn Hath mocked my greatness!’154 Fiercely rushed the chiefs Against the aggressor.155 Through the high-roofed woods They saw him distant like a falling star Kindling the air with speed.156 Ere long, close by He stood with sling high holden.157 At its sound Ever some great one died!158 The morrow morn Cuchullain reached a lawn: tall autumn grass Whitened within it; but the Beech trees round Were russet brown, the thorn-brakes berry-flushed: Passing, he raised his spear, and launched it forth Earthward: there stood it buried in the soil Halfway, and quivering.159 Loud Cuchullain laughed, And cried, ‘It quivers like the tail of swine Gladdened by acorn feast!’ then drew he rein And with one sword-stroke felled a youngling Birch And bound it to that spear, and on its bark Silvery and smooth, graved with his lance’s point In Ogham characters the words, ‘Beware!160 Unless thou know’st what hand this Ogham traced Twine yonder berries mid thy young bride’s locks, But spare to tempt that hand!’161 An hour passed by And Meave had reached the spot.162 Chief following chief Drew near in turn; yet none could drag from earth That spear deep-buried.163 Fergus laughed; ‘Let be Connacians!164 Task is here for Uladh’s hand!’165 Then, standing in his car, he clutched the spear And tugged it thrice.166 The third time ’neath his feet Down crashed the strong-built chariot to the ground.167 He laughed!168 The queen in anger cried, ‘March on!’169 The host advanced, disordered.170 Foremost drave Orloff, Meave’s son.171 That morning he had wed A maid, the loveliest in his mother’s court, And yearned to prove his valour in her eyes.172 Sudden he came to where Cuchullain stood Pasturing his steeds with grass and flower forth held In wooing, dallying hand.173 Cuchullain said ‘The queen’s son this!174 I will not harm the youth,’ And waved him to depart.175 That stripling turned Yet, turning, hurled his javelin.176 As it flew The swift one caught it; poised it; hurled it home: It pierced that youth from back to breast; he fell Dead on the chariot’s floor.177 The steeds rushed on Wind-swift; and reached the camp.178 There sat the queen Throned in her car, listening the host’s applause: In swoon she fell, and lay as lie the dead.179 Next morn again the invaders marched, nor knew What foe was he who, mocking, thinned their ranks, Trampled their pride; who, lacking spear and car, Viewless by day, by night a fleeting fire, Dragged down their mightiest, in the death cry shrill Drowning the revel.180 Fergus knew the man, Fergus alone; nor yet divulged his name, Oft muttering, ‘These be men who fight for Bulls-- I war to shake a Perjurer from his throne, And count no brave man foe.’181 Again at feast Ailill made question of the Red Branch Knights: Fergus replied; ‘Cuchullain is their best: I taught him arms!182 Hear of his Knighting Day!183 ‘Northward of Eman lies a pleasaunce green: The Arch-Druid, Cathbad, gazer on the stars, While there the youths contended, beckoned one And whispered, “Happy shall that stripling prove Knighted this day!184 Glorious his life, though brief!”185 That hour Cuchullain stood beyond the wall South of the city, yet that whisper heard!186 He heard, and cried; “Enough one day of life If great my deeds, and helpful!”187 Swift of foot He sped to Conor.188 “I demand, great king, Knighthood this day, and knighthood at thy hand.”189 But Conor laughed; “Not fifteen years are thine!190 Withhold thyself yet three.”191 That self-same hour Old Cathbad entered, and his Druid clan, And spake; “King Conor! by my bed last night Great Macha stood, the worship of our race, Our strength in realms unseen.192 ‘Arise,’ she said; ‘To Conor speed: to him report my will: That youth knighted this day is mine Elect!193 I, Macha, send him forth!’194 ‘“She spake and passed: Trembled the place like cliffs o’er ocean caves: Like thunder underground I heard her wheels In echoes slowly dying.”195 ‘Fixed and firm King Conor stood.196 Sternly he made reply: “Queen Macha had her day and ruled: far down Doubtless this hour she rules, or rules aloft: I rule in Eman and this Uladh realm: I will not knight a stripling!”197 Prophet-like Up-towered old Cathbad, and his clan black-stoled.198 This way and that they rolled prophetic bolts Three hours; and brake with warnings from the stars And mandates from the synod of the Gods, The king’s resolve.199 At last he cried, “So be it!200 Since Gods, like men, grow witless, be it so!201 The worse for Eman, and great Macha’s land-- Stand forth, my sister’s son!”202 He spake and bound The Geisa, and the edicts, and the vows Of that dread Red Branch Order on the boy, And gave him sword and lance.203 ‘An eye star-keen That boy upon them fixed, and, each on each, Smote them.204 They snapt in twain.205 Laughing, he cried, “Good art thou, Uncle mine; but these are base: I need a warrior’s weapons!”206 Conor signed; Then brought his knaves ten swords, and lances ten: Cuchullain eyed them each and snapt them all, The concourse marvelling.207 “Varlets,” cried the king, “Bring forth my arms of battle!”208 These in turn Cuchullain proved: they brake not.209 Up they dragged A battle-car.210 Cuchullain leaped therein: With feet far set he spurned its brazen floor That roared and sank in fragments.211 Chariots twelve Successive thus he vanquished.212 “Uncle mine, Good art thou,” cried the youth; “but these are base!”213 King Conor signed, “My car of battle!”214 Leagh The charioteer forth brought it with the steeds: Cuchullain proved that war-car and it stood.215 Careless he spake: “So, well!216 The car will serve!217 Abide ye my return.”218 ‘He shook the reins: He called the horses by their names well-known: He dashed through Eman’s gateway as a storm: Far off a darksome wood and darksome tower Frowned over Mallok’s wave: therein abode Three bandit chieftains, foes to man: well pleased Those bandits eyed the on-rushing car, and youth, Exulting in their prey: arrived, with gibes He summoned them to judgment: forth they thronged, They and their clan: he slew them with his sling, The three; and severed with his sword their heads, And fixed them on the chariot’s front.219 His mood Changed into mirthful: fleeter than the wind Six stags went by him, stateliest of the herd; Afoot he chased them, caught them, bound them fast Behind the chariot rail.220 Birds saw he next White as a foam-wreath of their native sea, Spotting the glebe new turned.221 A net lay near: He caged them; next he tied them to his car Wide-winged, and wailing loud.222 To Eman’s towers Returned he then with laughter: at its gate The king, the chiefs, grey Druids, maids red-cloaked, Agape to see him--on his chariot’s front The grim heads of those bandits; in its rear Those stags wide-horned; and, high o’erhead the birds!’223 The laughter ceasing, spake King Conor’s son; ‘Recount the wonder of those fairy steeds That drag Cuchullain’s war-car!’224 Fergus then, Despite Queen Meave, who plaited still her robe With angry hectic hand, the tale began.225 ‘Cuchullain paced the herbage thin that clothes Slieve Fuad’s summit.226 On that airy height A wan lake glittered, whitening in the blast, Pale plains around it.227 From beneath that lake Emerged a horse foam-white!228 Cuchullain saw, And straightway round that creature’s neck high-held Locked the lithe arms no struggles could unwind.229 That courser baffled clothed his strength with speed: From cliff to cliff he sped; cleared at a bound Inlet, and rocky rift; nor stayed his course, Men say, till he had circled Erin’s Isle.230 Panting then lay he, on his conqueror’s knee Resting his head; thenceforth that conqueror’s friend, His “Liath Macha.”231 Gentle-souled is she “Sangland,” the wild one’s comrade.232 As the night Sank on those huge red-berried woods of Yew Loch Darvra’s girdle, from beneath the wave She issued, darker still.233 Softly she paced, As though with woman’s foot, the grassy marge In violets diapered, and laid her head Upon Cuchullain’s shoulder.234 In his wars Emulous those mated marvels drag his car: In peace he yokes them never.’235 Fergus rose: ‘Night wanes,’ he said, ‘and tasks await my hand:’ Passing the throne he whispered thus the queen, ‘The Hound of Uladh is your visitant Both day and night.’236 The cheek of Meave grew pale.237