Early Irish Myths and Sagas - Jeffrey Gantz [72]
the bass song that he sings.
May the horses under his smooth chariot
stay for me a little, that I may look at them;
as a team their like is not to be found –
they are as swift as a wind of spring.
Fifty gold apples play overhead,
performing tricks on his breath;
as a king his like is not to be found,
not among gentle, not among fierce.
In each of his cheeks
a spot red as blood,
a green spot, a blue spot
and a spot of pale purple.
Seven lights in his eye –
he is not one to be left sightless.
It has the ornament of a noble eye:
a dark, blue-black eyelash.
A man known throughout Eriu
is already good; and this one has
hair of three different colours,
this young beardless lad.
A red sword that blood reddens
right up to its hilt of silver;
a shield with a boss of yellow gold
and a rim of white metal.
He steps over men in every battle;
valorous he enters the place of danger.
None of your fierce warriors
can match Cú Chulaind.
The warrior from Muirthemne,
Cú Chulaind, came here;
the daughters of Áed Abrat
they who brought him.
A long red drop of blood,
a fury rising to the treetops,
a proud high shout of victory,
a wailing that scatters spectres.
Lí Ban greeted him, then, with this poem:
Welcome, Cú Chulaind,
advancing boar,
great chieftain of Mag Muirthemni.
Great his spirit,
honour of battle-victorious champions,
heart of heroes,
strong stone of wisdom,
red in anger,
ready for the fair play of enemies,
one of the valorous warriors of Ulaid.
Beautiful his brilliance,
bright of eye to women.
Welcome, Cú Chulaind!
‘What have you done, Cú Chulaind?’ Lí Ban asked. Cú Chulaind answered:
I have cast my spear
into the camp of Éogan Indber;
I do not know, famous its path,
whether my shot hit or missed.
Whether better or worse for my strength,
I have never yet in fair play
cast ignorantly at a man in the mist –
perhaps not a soul is left alive.
A fair shining host with splendid horses
pursued me from every direction:
the people of Manandán son of Ler
whom Éogan Indber summoned.
Whichever way I turned
when my full fury came upon me,
it was one man against three thousand,
and I sent them towards death.
I heard Echu luil groan,
a sound that came from the heart;
if that truly was one man, and not an army,
then my cast was well aimed.
Cú Chulaind slept with Fand, then, and he stayed with her for a month. When he bade her farewell, she said to him ‘Where will we meet?’ They decided upon Ibor Cind Tráchta. This was told to Emer, and she prepared knives with which to kill Fand. Fifty women accompanied Emer to the place of the meeting. Cú Chulaind and Lóeg were playing fidchell and did not notice the advancing women, but Fand noticed, and she said to Lóeg ‘Look over at what I am seeing.’ ‘What is it?’ asked Lóeg, and he looked.
Fand then said ‘Lóeg, look behind you. Listening to you is a troop of clever, capable women, glittering sharp knives in their right hands and gold on their breasts. When warriors go to their battle chariots, a fair form will be seen: Emer daughter of Forgall in a new guise.’
‘Have no fear,’ replied Cú Chulaind, ‘for she will not come at all. Step up into my powerful chariot, with its sunny seat, and I will protect you from every woman in the four quarters of Ériu, for though the daughter of Forgall may boast to her companions about her mighty deeds, she is not likely to challenge me.’ He said to Emer, then, ‘I avoid you, woman, as every man avoids the one he loves. I will not strike your hard spear, held with trembling hand; neither do you threaten me with your thin, feeble knife and weak, restrained anger, for the strength of women is insufficient to demand my full power.’
‘Why, then, Cú Chulaind, have you dishonoured me before the women of the province and the women of Ériu and all people of rank?’ asked Emer. ‘It is under your protection I have come, under the great power of your guarantee; and though the pride of mighty conflicts makes you boastful, perhaps your