The Ancient Irish Epic Tale Tain Bo Cualnge - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[4-4] Eg. 106 (_Revue Celtique_, tome xi, p. 327).
[W.3964.] Thereupon Cuchulain hastened towards Ferdiad and clasped his two arms about him, and bore him with all his arms and his armour and his dress northwards over the ford, that so it should be [1]with his face[1] to the north[a] of the ford the triumph took place and not to the west[b] of the ford with the men of Erin. [LL.fo.87b.] Cuchulain laid Ferdiad there on the ground, and a cloud and a faint and a swoon came over Cuchulain there by the head of Ferdiad. Laeg espied it, and the men of Erin all arose for the attack upon him. "Come, O Cucuc," cried Laeg; "arise now [2]from thy trance,[2] for the men of Erin will come to attack us, and it is not single combat they will allow us, now that Ferdiad son of Daman son of Dare is fallen by thee." "What availeth it me to arise, O gilla," moaned Cuchulain, "now that this one is fallen by my hand?" In this wise the gilla spake and he uttered these words and Cuchulain responded:--
Laeg: "Now arise, O Emain's Hound; Now most fits thee courage high.
Ferdiad hast thou thrown--of hosts-- G.o.d's fate! How thy fight was hard!"
Cuchulain: "What avails me courage now?
I'm oppressed with rage and grief, For the deed that I have done On his body sworded sore!"
Laeg: "It becomes thee not to weep; Fitter for thee to exult!
Yon red-speared one thee hath left Plaintful, wounded, steeped in gore!"
Cuchulain: "Even had he cleaved my leg, And one hand had severed too; Woe, that Ferdiad--who rode steeds-- Shall not ever be in life!"
Laeg: [W.3993.] "Liefer far what's come to pa.s.s, To the maidens of Red Branch; He to die, thou to remain; They grudge not that ye should part!"
Cuchulain: "From the day I Cualnge left, Seeking high and splendid Medb, Carnage has she had--with fame-- Of her warriors whom I've slain!"
Laeg: "Thou hast had no sleep in peace, In pursuit of thy great Tain; Though thy troop was few and small, Oft thou wouldst rise at early morn!"
[1-1] Eg. 106.
[a] That is, in Ulster. Stowe and Eg. 106 read '(with his face) to the south.'
[b] That is, in Connacht.
[2-2] Stowe.
Cuchulain began to lament and bemoan Ferdiad, and he spake the words:
"Alas, O Ferdiad," [1]spake he,[1] "'twas thine ill fortune thou didst not take counsel with any of those that knew my real deeds of valour and arms, before we met in clash of battle!
[1-1] Stowe.
"Unhappy for thee that Laeg son of Riangabair did not make thee blush in regard to our comrades.h.i.+p!
"Unhappy for thee that the truly faithful warning of Fergus thou didst not take!
"Unhappy for thee that dear, trophied, triumphant, battle-victorious Conall counselled thee not in regard to our comrades.h.i.+p!
[2]"For those men would not have spoken in obedience to the messages or desires or orders or false words of promise of the fair-haired women of Connacht.
"For well do those men know that there will not be born a being that will perform deeds so tremendous and so great [3]among the Connachtmen as I,[3] till the very day of doom and of everlasting life, whether at handling of s.h.i.+eld and buckler, at plying of spear and sword, at playing at draughts and chess, at driving of steeds and chariots."[2]
[2-2] The order of these two paragraphs is that of Stowe; they are found in the reverse order in LL.
[3-3] Reading with Stowe.
[4]And he spake these warm words, sadly, sorrowfully in praise of Ferdiad:--[4]
[4-4] Eg. 209.
[W.4022.] "There shall not be found the hand of a hero that will wound warrior's flesh, like cloud-coloured Ferdiad!
[1]"There shall not be heard from the gap[a] the cry of red-mouthed Badb[b]
to the winged, shade-speckled flocks![1]
[1-1] This difficult sentence is composed of two alliterating groups, which it is impossible to follow in the translation.]
[a] That is, the battle breach.
[b] That is, the fury of war and carnage which appeared in the form of a carrion crow.
"There shall not be one that will contend for Cruachan that will obtain covenants equal to thine, till the very day of doom and of life henceforward, O red-cheeked son of Daman!" said Cuchulain.
Then it was that Cuchulain arose and stood over Ferdiad: "Ah, Ferdiad,"
spake Cuchulain "greatly have the men of Erin deceived and abandoned thee, to bring thee to contend and do battle [LL.fo.88a.] with me. For no easy thing is it to contend and do battle with me on the Raid for the Kine of Cualnge! [2]And yet, never before have I found combat that was so sore or distressed me so as thy combat, save the combat with Oenfer Aife,[c] mine one own son."[2] Thus he spake, and he uttered these words:--
"Ah, Ferdiad, betrayed to death.
Our last meeting, oh, how sad!
Thou to die, I to remain.
Ever sad our long farewell!
"When we over yonder dwelt With our Scathach, steadfast, true, This we thought till end of time, That our friends.h.i.+p ne'er would end!
"Dear to me thy n.o.ble blush; Dear thy comely, perfect form; Dear thine eye, blue-grey and clear; Dear thy wisdom and thy speech!
"Never strode to rending fight, Never wrath and manhood held, Nor slung s.h.i.+eld across broad back, One like thee, Daman's red son!
[W.4051.] "Never have I met till now, Since I Oenfer Aife slew, One thy peer in deeds of arms, Never have I found, Ferdiad!
"Finnabair, Medb's daughter fair, Beauteous, lovely though she be, As a gad round sand or stones, She was shown to thee, Ferdiad!"
[2-2] Stowe, Eg. 106 and Eg. 209.
[c] That is, Conlaech.
Then Cuchulain turned to gaze on Ferdiad. "Ah, my master Laeg," cried Cuchulain, "now strip Ferdiad and take his armour and garments off him, that I may see the brooch for the sake of which he entered on the combat and fight [1]with me."[1] Laeg came up and stripped Ferdiad. He took his armour and garments off him and he saw the brooch [2]and he placed the brooch in Cuchulain's hand,[2] and Cuchulain began to lament and complain [3]over Ferdiad,[3] and he spake these words:--
"Alas, golden brooch; Ferdiad of the hosts, O good smiter, strong, Victorious thy hand!
"Thy hair blond and curled, A wealth fair and grand.
Thy soft, leaf-shaped belt Around thee till death!
"Our comrades.h.i.+p dear; Thy n.o.ble eye's gleam; Thy golden-rimmed s.h.i.+eld; Thy sword,[a] treasures worth!
[4]"Thy white-silver torque Thy n.o.ble arm binds.
Thy chess-board worth wealth; Thy fair, ruddy cheek![4]
