Early Irish Myths and Sagas - Jeffrey Gantz [69]
nor is my bearing over-haughty.
We go to a battle with fierce spears everywhere,
plying in our right hands red swords
against the ardent multitudes of Echu luil.
There is no pride in me.
I am neither proud nor arrogant, woman.
‘Do not be angry, then,’ said Lí Ban, ‘for Cú Chulaind’s charioteer, Lóeg, is here with the message that Cú Chulaind will bring a host.’ Labraid greeted the charioteer, saying ‘Welcome, Lóeg, for the sake of the woman with whom you have come and for the sake of everyone from whom you have come. Go home, now, and Lí Ban will follow you.’
Lóeg returned to Emuin, then, and related his adventure to Cú Chulaind and everyone else. Cú Chulaind sat up in bed and passed his hand over his face; then he spoke clearly to Lóeg, for the news the charioteer had brought had strengthened his spirits.
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Cú Chulaind told Lóeg ‘Go now to Emer and say to her that women of the Síde have come and destroyed me; tell her that I am mending and let her come and visit me.’ But Lóeg recited this poem to strengthen Cú Chulaind:
Great folly for a warrior
to lie under the spell of a wasting sickness;
it shows that spirits,
the folk of Tenmag Trogagi,
have bound you,
and tortured you,
and destroyed you,
through the power of a wanton woman.
Awake! Then the woman’s mockery will shatter
and your glorious valour will shine
among champions and warriors;
you will recover fully,
and take to action
and perform glorious deeds.
When the call of Labraid sounds,
O warlike man, rise that you might be great.
Lóeg went then to Emer and told her of Cú Chulaind’s condition. ‘Bad luck to you,’ she said, ‘for you visited the Síde and brought back no cure for your lord. Shame on the Ulaid for not trying to heal him. If Conchubur were consumed, or Fergus overcome by sleep, or Conall Cernach laid low with wounds, Cú Chulaind would aid them.’ And she recited this poem:
Alas, son of Ríangabur,
that you visited the Síde
and returned with no cure
for the son of Deichtine’s spectre.
Shame on the Ulaid, with their generosity
among foster-fathers and foster-brothers,
not to be searching the dark world
to help their friend Cú Chulaind.
If Fergus had sunk into sleep,
and a single druid’s art could heal,
the son of Deichtine would not rest
until that druid had made his examination.
Or if it were Conall
who was beset by wounds and injuries,
the Hound would search the wide world
until he found a doctor to heal him.
If Lóegure Búadach were faced
with an overwhelming danger,
Cú would search the meadows of Eriu
to cure the son of Connad son of Iliu.
If it were Celtchair of the deceits
to whom sleep and long wasting had come,
Sétantae would be journeying
night and day through the Síde.
If it were Furbude of the fían
who was laid low for a long time,
Cú would search the hard earth
until he found a cure.
Dead the hosts of Sid Truim,
dispersed their great deeds;
since the sleep of the Side seized him,
their Hound outstrips hounds no more.
Alas! Your sickness touches me,
Hound of the smith of Conchubur;
my heart and mind are troubled –
I wonder if I might heal him.
Alas! Blood my heart,
wasting for the horseman of the plain
unless he should come here
from the assembly of Mag Muirthemni
He comes not from Emuin –
a spectre has parted us.
My voice is weak and mute
because he is in an evil state.
A month and a season and a year
without sleeping together,
without hearing a man
of pleasing speech, son of Ríangabur.
After that Emer went to Emuin to visit Cú Chulaind; she sat on his bed and said ’shame on you, lying there for love of a woman – long lying will make you sick.’ Then she recited this poem:
Rise, warrior of Ulaid!
Awake healthy and happy from sleep!
See the king of Emuin early in the morning –
do not indulge in excessive sleep.
See his shoulder full with crystal,
see his splendid drinking horns,
see his chariots traversing the valley,
see his ranks of fidchell pieces.
See his vigorous champions,
see his tall and gentle women,