🧚 Opening, part 12

FRAGMENT II.1

_THE DEEDS OF CUCHULLAIN.2

ARGUMENT.3

Fergus is sent to Cuchullain with gifts, and requires him to forsake King Conor.4 This he will not do, yet consents to forbear Meave’s host till she has reached the border of Uladh, the queen engaging that the warfare shall then be restricted to a combat between himself and a single champion sent against him day by day.5 Each day Meave’s champion is slain.6 Cailitin, lord of the Magic Clan, counsels Meave to send against Cuchullain his best-loved friend Ferdīa; yet she sends, instead, Lok Mac Favesh.7 When he too falls, Cailitin and his twenty-seven sons, all magicians, fling themselves upon Cuchullain to slay him.8 Cuchullain slays them.9 The Mor Reega, the War-Goddess of the Gael, prophesies to him that there yet awaits him the greatest of his trials.10 After ninety days of combat Cuchullain’s father brings him tidings that all Uladh lies bound under a spell of imbecility.11

Thus ever day by day, and night by night, Through strength of him that mid the royal host Passed, and re-passed like thought, the bravest fell; For ne’er against the inglorious or the small That warrior raised his hand.12 Then Ailill spake; ‘Let Fergus seek that champion in the woods, Gift-laden, and withdraw him from his king:’ But Fergus answered; ‘Sue and be refused!13 That great one loves his country.14 Heard ye never How when King Conor’s sin, that forfeit pledge Plighted with Usnach’s sons, had left the Accursed Crownless, and Eman’s bulwarks in the dust, Her elders on Cuchullain worked, what time He came my work of vengeance to complete?15 They said, “Cuchullain loves his land o’er all!16 The man besides, though terrible to foes, Is tender to the weak.17 Through Eman’s streets Send ye proclaim, ‘Will any holy Maid To save the city take her station sole On yonder bridge, at parting of the ways, That city’s Emblem-Victim, robed in black Down from her girdle to the naked feet; Above that girdle this alone--the chains Of Eman’s gate, circling that virgin throat And down at each side streaming?18 It may be That dread one will relent, pitying in her Great Uladh’s self despoiled of robe and crown, Her raiment bonds and shame.’19 Of Eman’s maids But one, the best and purest gave consent: Alone she stood at parting of the ways: While near and nearer yet that war-car drew Wide-eyed she stood, death-pale: it stopp’d: she spake; Eman, thy Mother, stands a widow now: And many a famished babe that wrought no ill Lies mid her ruins wailing.”20 To the left The warrior turned his steeds.21 The land was saved.’22 Then spake the kings confederate; ‘Hard albeit That task, to draw Cuchullain from his charge, Seek him, and proffer terms!’23 Fergus next morn Made way through those sea-skirting woods, and cried Three times, ‘Setanta;’ and Cuchullain heard And knew that voice, and, beaming, issued forth, And clasped his ancient master round the neck, And led him to his sylvan cell.24 Therein Long time they held discourse of ancient days Heaven-fair through mist of years.25 The youthful host Set forth their rural feast, whate’er the woods And they that in them dwelt, swine-herds, and hinds, Yielded, their best: nor lacked it minstrel strain, Bird-song by autumn chilled, that brake through boughs Lit by unwarming sunshine.26 Banquet o’er, Fergus his errand shewed, and named the gifts By Ailill sent, and Meave.27 Cuchullain rose And curtly answered; ‘Never will I break My vow; nor wrong the land; nor sell my king:’ Fergus too royal was to hear surprised, Or grieved, his friend’s resolve, nor touched again Upon that pact unworthy.28 Happier themes Succeeded, mirthful some.29 Of these the last Made sport of Ailill.30 Fergus spake; ‘One night To Meave’s pavilion swift of foot I sped; War-tidings wait not.31 Ailill from afar Furtively followed, stung by jealous spleen.32 The queen had passed into the inner tent; I sought her there.33 In the outer Ailill marked My sword, that morning thither sent, a loan, For Meave had vowed with braided gems, her boast, To out-brave its hilt.34 His wrath was changed to joy!35 He snatched it up; he cried; “Hail, forfeit mine!36 Hail Eric just!”37 [30] and laughed his childish laugh.38 Since then he neither frowns on me nor smiles: He will not let me rule his foolish kings; Yet, deeming still my sword a charm ’gainst fate Wears it.39 An apter one for him I keep: One day ’twill raise a laugh!’40 In graver mood At parting Fergus spake; ‘For thee unmeet That pact of Meave, though not for her: but thou Conceal not, know’st thou meeter terms, and fit?’41 To whom Cuchullain; ‘Fergus, terms there be, Other, and fitter.42 I divulge them not: Divine them he that seeks them!’43 On the morn Fergus these things narrated to the chiefs In synod met.44 Then rose a recreant churl, And thus gave counsel; ‘Lure Cuchullain here On pretext fair; and slay him at the feast!’45 Against that recreant Fergus hurled his spear, And slew him, and continued, ‘Hundreds six, Our best, have perished, and our march is slow: Now, warriors, hear my counsel, and my terms.46 Cuchullain scorns your gifts--of such no more! ’47 Twixt southern Erin and my Uladh’s realm, Runs Neeth: across that river lies a ford; Speak to Cuchullain; “By that ford stand thou, Guarding thy land.48 Against thee, day by day, Be ours to send one champion--one alone:-- While lasts that strife forbear the host beside!”’49 Then roared the kings a long and loud applause, Since wise appeared that counsel: faith they pledged, And sureties in the hearing of the Gods: Likewise Cuchullain, when his friend returned, Made answer; ‘Well you guessed! a month or more My strength will hold: meantime our Uladh arms.’50 To seal that pact he sought the hostile camp, And shared the banquet.51 Wondering, all men gazed, And maidens, lifted on the warriors’ shields, Gladdened, so bright that youthful face.52 At morn Meave, when the chief departed, kissed his cheek: ‘Pity,’ she said, ‘that such a one should die!’53 The one sole time that Meave compassion felt.54 That eve Cuchullain drank the wave of Neeth, And wading reached Murthemné’s soil, his charge And knelt, and kissed it.55 As the sun declined He clomb a rocky height, and northward gazed, And cried; ‘Ye Red Branch warriors, haste!56 I keep The ford; but who shall guard it when I die?’57 Next morning by that stream the fight began, Two champions face to face: and, every morn, Rang out, renewed, that combat; every eve Again went up from that confederate host The shout of rage.58 Daily their bravest died, Thirty in thirty days.59 Feerbraoth fell; And Natherandal, though the Druid horde Above his javelins, carved at set of moon From the ever-sacred holly stem, had breathed Vain consecration, and with futile salve Anointed them: confuted soon they sailed In ignominy adown that seaward tide With him that hurled them.60 Eterconnel next, Dalot, and Cuir.61 Yet he who laid them low Was beardless at the lip:--While thus they strove A second month went by.62 Such things beholding The queen was moved; and in her grew one day Craving for Cruachan.63 But on her ear Rolled forth that hour the lowings of that Bull Cuailgné’s Donn: for he from Daré’s house Had heard, though far, the clamours of the host, And answered rage with rage.64 Then Meave resolved, Though all my host should perish to a man This foot shall tread no more my native plains Save with that Bull in charge!65 To her by night Came Cailitin, who ever walked by night Shunning mankind, and Fergus most of all, Cailitin, father of the Magic Clan, And thus addressed her; ‘Place in me thy trust!66 I hate Cuchullain, for he hates my spells Resting his hope on virtue.67 In thy camp Ferdīa bides, a Firbolg feared of all.68 Win him to meet Cuchullain.69 They in youth Were friends: to slay that friend will lay a hand Icy as death upon Cuchullain’s heart.70 Ferdīa dies--thus much mine art foreshews-- Then I, since magic spells have puissance most Upon a soul depressed and body sick, Fall on him with my seven and twenty sons, Magicians all.71 One are we: thence with one May fight, thy pledge unflawed.72 A drop of blood Shed by our swords, though small as beetle’s eye, Costs him his life.’73 Fiercely the queen replied, ‘A Firbolg!74 Never!’75 Cailitin resumed, ‘Then send for Lok Mac Favesh!’76 With the morn Mac Favesh sought her tent.77 Direful his mien; Massive his stride; his body brawny and huge; For, though of Gaelic race, the stock of Ir, With him was mingled giant blood of old, Wild blood of Nemedh’s brood that hurled sea rocks ’Gainst the Fomorian.78 Oft the advancing tide Drowned both, in battle knit.79 Before the queen Boastful the sea-king laid his club, and spake: ‘Queen, though to combat with a beardless boy Affronts my name, my lineage, and my strength, His petulance shall vex thine eye no more!80 Uladh is thine to-morrow!’81 At the dawn By hundreds girt, the great ones of his clan, Down drave he to the ford, and onward strode Trampling the last year’s branches strewn hard by That snapp’d beneath him.82 Hides of oxen seven Sustained the brazen bosses of his shield; And forth he stretched a hand that might have grasped A tiger’s throat and choked him.83 O’er his helm Hovered an imaged demon raven-black.84 Cuchullain met him; hours endured the strife, That mountained strength triumphant now, anon Cuchullain’s might divine.85 Then first that might Was fully tasked.86 Upon the bank that day Stood up a Portent seen by none save him, A Shape not human.87 Terribly it fixed On him alone its never-wandering eye; The dread Mor Reega,[31] she that from the skies O’er-rules the battle-fields, and sways at will This way or that the sable tides of death.88 He gazed; and, though incapable of fear, Awe, such as heroes feel, possessed his heart: Its beatings shook his brain: his corporal mould Throbbed as a branch against some river swift; And backward turned his hair like berried trails Of thorn athwart the hedge.89 Three several times He saw her, yet fought on.90 With beckoning hand At last that Portent summoned from the main A huge sea-snake: round him it twined its knots: Then on Cuchullain fell the rage from heaven: A sword-blow, and that vast sea-worm lay dead!91 A sword uplifted, and Mac Favesh fell Prone on the shuddering flood.92 In death he cried, ‘Lay me with forehead turned to Uladh’s realm;-- They shall not say that fugitive I died.’93 Cuchullain wrought his will: then, bleeding fast, Stood upright, leaning on his spear aslant; A warrior battle-wearied.94 From the bank Meantime, the dark magician, Cailitin, He and his sons, with wide and greedy eyes, That still, like one man’s eyes, together moved, Had watched that fight, counting each drop that fell Down from Cuchullain’s wounds.95 When faint he stood At once their cry rang out like one man’s cry; Like one their seven and twenty javelins flew: As swift, Cuchullain caught them on his shield: An instant more, and all that horde accursed Was dealing with him.96 From the trampled ford Went up a mist of spray that veiled that strife, Though pierced by demon cries, and flash beside Of demon swords.97 O’er it at last up-towered On-borne, such power to blend have Spirits impure, A single Form--as when o’er seas storm-laid The watery column reels, and draws from heaven The cloud, and drowns the ship--a single Form, And Head, and Hand, clutching Cuchullain’s crest: Not wholly sank he.98 O’er that mist of spray Glittered his sword.99 There fell a silence strange: Slowly that mist dispersed; and on the sands That false Enchanter lay with all his sons Black, bleeding bulks of death.100 Amid them stood Cuchullain; near him, seen by him alone, That dread Mor Reega, now benign.101 She spake: ‘I hated thee, since less in me thy trust Than in great Virtue’s aid.102 I hate no more.103 Be strong! a trial waits thee heavier yet-- No man is friend of mine till trial-proved.’104 Yet sad at heart that eve Cuchullain clomb His wonted rock, and faint with loss of blood, And mused; ‘My strength must lessen day by day;’ And northward gazed, thus murmuring; ‘All too late To save the land those Red Branch Knights will come When I am dead-- My war-car, and my war-steeds are far off And I am here alone.’105 Through grief that night He slept not; for the Magic Clan had power, Though dead, to lean above him as a cloud Darkening his spirit.106 Happy days gone by They changed to grief and shame.107 While thus he sat He saw, not distant, on the forest floor, In moonbeams clad, though moon was near him none, A pure and princely presence.108 Lithe his form In youthful prime: chain armour round him clung Bright as if woven of diamonds.109 Glad his eye; Dulcet his voice as strain from Elfin glen Far heard o’er waters.110 Thus that warrior spake: ‘My child, an ancestor of thine I come, Great Ethland’s son, in virtuous battle slain.111 Among the Sidils[32] now, and fairy haunts Moon-lit, and under depths of lucent lakes, Gladness I have who in my day had woe, And youth perpetual though I died in age.112 Repose thou need’st: for sixty days thine eyes Have closed reluctant.113 Sleep a three days’ sleep Whilst I thy semblance bearing meet thy foes.’114 Thus spake the youth, then sang Lethean song, And, straight, Cuchullain slept.115 Three days gone by, Again that vision came.116 ‘Arise,’ he said: The warrior rose; and lo! his wounds were healed: Down to the river sped he.117 Waiting there Stood up Iarion, champion of the queen, There stood, nor thence returned.118 Eochar next Perished, then Tubar, Chylair, Alp, and Ord, In all full ninety warriors.119 Ninety days Had fled successive since that strife began, When, on the evening of the ninetieth day, His strength entire, and victory eagle-winged Fanning his ardent cheek, Cuchullain scaled Once more that specular rock.120 Within his heart Spirit illusive that, with purpose veiled, Oft tries the loftiest most, this presage sang ‘Southward, not distant, thou shalt see them march At last, that Red Branch Order, in their van Thy Conal Carnach!’121 Other spectacle Met him, a chariot small with horses small, And, o’er the axle bent, a small old man Urging them feebly on.122 It was his sire!123 T’wards him Cuchullain rushed: the old man wept, For gladness wept, and afterwards for woe, Kissing the wounds unnumbered of his son: Reverent, Cuchullain led him to his cell; Reverent, he placed before him wine and meat; Nor questioned yet.124 The old man satisfied, Garrulity returned, though less than once, Now quelled by patriot passion.125 Thus he spake:-- ‘Setanta! son of mine!126 I bring ill news: Uladh is mad; the Red Branch House is mad: We two are mad; and all the world are mad, Mad as thy mother!127 Through the realm I sped: A mist hung o’er it heavy, and on her sons Imbecile spirit, and a heartless mind, And base soul-sickness.128 Evermore I cried, “Arise! the stranger’s foot is on your soil: They come to stall their horses in your halls; To slay your sons; enslave your spotless maids; Alone my son withstands them!”129 Shrewd of eye Men answered; “Merchant; see thy wares be sound!130 No lack-wits we!”131 Old seers I saw that decked Time-honoured foreheads with a jester’s crown: I saw an ollamb trample under foot His sacred Oghams: next I saw him grave His own blear image on the tide-washed sands, Boasting, “The unnumbered ages here shall stoop Honouring true Wisdom’s image.”132 Shepherds set The wolf to guard their fold.133 The wittol bade The losel lead his wife to feast and dance: Young warriors looked on maids with woman’s eyes.134 I drave to Daré’s Dûn: his loud-voiced sons Adored the Donn Cuailgné as their sire, And called their sire a calf.135 To Iliach’s tower I sped: he answered; “What! the foe! they come!136 Climb we yon apple trees, and garner store!137 Wayfarers need much victual!”138 Onward next To Sencha’s castle:--On the roof he knelt, Self-styled the kingdom’s chief astrologer, Waiting the unrisen stars.139 To Olchar’s Dûn I journeyed: wrapp’d in rags the strong man lay, Thin from long fast; with eyelids well nigh closed: Not less beneath them lay a gleaming streak: “Awake me not,” he said: “a dormouse I!140 Till peace returns I simulate to sleep.”141 I sought the brothers Nemeth: one his eyes Bent on the smoke-wreath from his chimney’s top, One on the foam-streak wavering down the stream; While each a finger raised, and said “Tread light!142 Our earth is grass o’er glass!”143 I sought the mart: Men babbled; “Bid the Druids find the king!”144 I sought the Druids’ College: in a hall Reed-strewn to smother sound they held debate On Firbolg and Dedannan contracts pledged Ere landed first the Gael.145 The Red Branch House Was changed to hospital; and knights full-armed Nodded o’er lepers’ beds.146 I sought the king: From hall deserted on to hall I roamed: I found him in his armoury walled around With mail of warriors dead.147 There stood, or lay, The chiefs by Uladh worshipp’d.148 Nearest, crouched Great Conal Carnach patting of his sword Like nurse that lulls an infant.149 On his throne Sat Conchobar in miniver and gold: His eyes were on his grandsire’s shield that breathed At times a sigh athwart the steel-lit gloom: Around his lips an idiot’s smile was curled: “What will be will be,” spake the king at last: “All things go well.”’150 Thus Saltain told his tale: One thing he told not--how, a moment’s space, The passion of an old man’s scorn had wrought Deliverance strange for that astonished throng, High miracle of nature.151 He, the man Despised since youth, the laughter of the crowd, Himself restored to youth by change like death, Had rolled his voice abroad, a mighty voice; They heard it: from their trance they burst: they stood Radiant once more with mind!152 They stood till died The noble anger’s latest echo.153 Then That mist storm-riven put forth once more its hand, And downward dragged its prey.154 Upon his feet Cuchullain sprang, his father’s tale complete: That rage divine which gave him strength divine Had fallen on him from heaven.155 He raised his hands, And roared against the synod of the Gods That suffer shames below.156 Beyond the stream That host confederate heard and armed in haste, And slept that night in armour.157 Far away Compassion touched the strong hearts of the Gods, The strongest most--Mor Reega’s.158 Ere that cry Had left its last vibration on the air High up the Battle-Goddess, adamant-mailed, Was drifting over Uladh.159 Eman’s towers Flashed back her helmet’s beam.160 With lifted spear She smote the brazen centre of her shield Three times; and thunder, triple-bolted, rolled Three times from sea to sea.161 The spell was snapp’d: Humanity returned to man!162 The first Who woke was Leagh, Cuchullain’s charioteer: Forth from the opprobrious mist he passed like ship That cleaves the limit of some low marsh-fog And sweeps into main ocean.163 Forth he rushed-- Forth to Cuchullain’s chariot-house, and dragged Abroad that war-car feared of man and yoked White Liath Macha, and his comrade black, And dashed adown the vacant, echoing streets, And passed the gateway towers: the warders slept: Beyond them, propp’d against the city wall, A cripple crunched his mouldering crust.164 Still on He rushed, the reins forth shaking and the scourge, Clamouring and crying; ‘Haste, Cuchullain’s steeds!165 On Liath Macha!166 Sable Sangland on!167 Your master needs you!168 Aye! ye know it now!169 The blood-red nostril smells the fight far off!170 On to Murthemné, and Cuailgné’s hills, And Neeth’s remembered ford!’171 Unseen he drave; So slowly, clinging still to brake and rock, And oft re-settling, vanished from the land The insane mist.172 That hurricane of wheels Not less was heard by men who nothing saw: On stony plain, in hamlet, and in vale:-- They muttered as in sleep; ‘Deliverance comes.’173