Then Cuchulain sat up, and he spoke to them. "Fortunate indeed is this!" said the men of Ulster; "tell us what it is that hath happened to thee." "Upon Samhain night last year," he said, "I indeed saw a vision;" and he told them of all he had seen. "What should now be done, Father Conor?" said Cuchulain. "This hast thou to do," answered Conor, "rise, and go until thou comest to the pillar where thou wert before."

Then Cuchulain went forth until he came to the pillar, and then saw he the woman in the green mantle come to him. "This is good, O Cuchulain!" said she. "'Tis no good thing in my thought," said Cuchulain. "Wherefore camest thou to me last year?" he said. "It was indeed to do no injury to thee that we came," said the woman, "but to seek for thy friendship. I have come to greet thee," she said, "from Fand, the daughter of Aed Abra; her husband, Manannan the Son of the Sea, hath released her, and she hath thereon set her love on thee. My own name is Liban, and I have brought to thee a message from my spouse, Labraid the Swift, the Sword-Wielder, [1. p.r.o.nounced Sooltam.]

that he will give thee the woman in exchange for one day's service to him in battle against Senach the Unearthly, and against Eochaid Juil,[1] and against Yeogan the Stream." "I am in no fit state," he said, "to contend with men to-day." "That will last but a little while," she said; "thou shalt be whole, and all that thou hast lost of thy strength shall be increased to thee. Labraid shall bestow on thee that boon, for he is the best of all warriors that are in the world."

"Where is it that Labraid dwelleth?" asked Cuchulain.

"In Mag Mell,[2] the Plain of Delight," said Liban; "and now I desire to go to another land," said she.

"Let Laeg go with thee," said Cuchulain, "that he may learn of the land from which thou hast come." "Let him come, then," said Liban.

They departed after that, and they went forward until they came to a place where Fand was. And Liban turned to seek for Laeg, and she set him upon her shoulder. "Thou wouldest never go hence, O Laeg!" said Liban, "wert thou not under a woman's protection." "'Tis not a thing that I have most been accustomed to up to this time," said Laeg, "to be under a woman's guard." "Shame, and everlasting shame," said Liban, "that Cuchulain is not where thou art." "It were well for me," answered Laeg, "if it were indeed he who is here."

They pa.s.sed on then, and went forward until they came opposite to the sh.o.r.e of an island, and there they saw a skiff of bronze lying upon the lake before them. They entered into the skiff, and they crossed over to the island, and came to the palace door, and there they saw the man, and he came towards them. And thus spoke Liban to the man whom they saw there: Say where He, the Hand-on-Sword, Labra swift, abideth?

He who, of the triumphs lord, In strong chariot rideth.

When victorious troops are led, Labra hath the leading; He it is, when spears are red, Sets the points a-bleeding.

[1. p.r.o.nounced, nearly, Yeo-hay Yool.

2. p.r.o.nounced Maw Mel].

And the man replied to her, and spoke thus: Labra, who of speed is son, Comes, and comes not slowly; Crowded hosts together run, Bent on warfare wholly.

Soon upon the Forest Plain Shall be set the killing; For the hour when men are slain Fidga's[1] Fields are filling![2]

They entered then into the palace, and they saw there thrice fifty couches within the palace, and three times fifty women upon the couches, and the women all bade Laeg welcome, and it was in these words that they addressed him: Hail! for the guide, Laeg! of thy quest: Laeg we beside Hail, as our guest!

"What wilt thou do now?" said Liban; "wilt thou go on without a delay, and hold speech with Fand?"

"I will go," he answered, "if I may know the place where she is."

"That is no hard matter to tell thee," she answered; "she is in her chamber apart." They went therein, and they greeted Fand, and she welcomed Laeg in the same fashion as the others had done.

Fand is the daughter of Aed Abra; Aed means fire, and he is the fire of the eye: that is, of the eye's pupil: Fand moreover is the name of the tear that runs from the eye; it was on account of the clearness of her beauty that she was so named, for there is nothing else in the world except a tear to which her beauty could be likened.

Now, while they were thus in that place, they heard the rattle of Labraid's chariot as he approached the island. "The spirit of Labraid is gloomy to-day," said Liban, "I will go and greet him." And she went out, and she bade welcome to Labraid, and she spoke as follows: [1. p.r.o.nounced, nearly, Feega.

2. Irish metre approximately imitated in these stanzas.]

Hail! the man who holdeth sword, the swift in fight!

Heir of little armies, armed with javelins light; Spears he drives in splinters; bucklers bursts in twain; Limbs of men are wounded; n.o.bles by him slain.

He for error searcheth, streweth gifts not small, Hosts of men destroyeth; fairer he than all!

Heroes whom he findeth feel his fierce attack; Labra! swiftest Sword-Hand! welcome to us back!

Labraid made no reply to her, and the lady spoke again thus: Welcome! swift Labra, Hand to sword set!

All win thy bounty, Praise thou shalt get; Warfare thou seekest, Wounds seam thy side; Wisely thou speakest, Law canst decide; Kindly thou rulest, Wars fightest well; Wrong-doers schoolest, Hosts shalt repel.

Labraid still made no answer, and she sang another lay thus: Labra! all hail!

Sword-wielder, swift: War can he wage, Warriors can sift; Valiant is he, Fighters excels; More than in sea Pride in him swells; Down in the dust Strength doth he beat; They who him trust Rise to their feet Weak ones he'll raise, Humble the strong; Labra! thy praise Peals loud and long!

Thou speakest not rightly, O lady," said Labraid; and he then spoke to her thus: O my wife! naught of boasting or pride is in me; No renown would I claim, and no falsehood shall be: Lamentation alone stirs my mind, for hard spears Rise in numbers against me: dread contest appears: The right arms of their heroes red broadswords shall swing; Many hosts Eochaid Juil holds to heart as their king: Let no pride then be ours; no high words let there be; Pride and arrogance far should be, lady, from me!

"Let now thy mind be appeased," said the lady Liban to him. "Laeg, the charioteer of Cuchulain, is here; and Cuchulain hath sent word to thee that he will come to join thy hosts."

Then Labraid bade welcome to Laeg, and he said to him: "Welcome, O Laeg! for the sake of the lady with whom thou comest, and for the sake of him from whom thou hast come. Do thou now go to thine own land, O Laeg!" said Labraid, "and Liban shall accompany thee."

Then Laeg returned to Emain, and he gave news of what he had seen to Cuchulain, and to all others beside; and Cuchulain rose up, and he pa.s.sed his hand over his face, and he greeted Laeg brightly, and his mind was strengthened within him for the news that the lad had brought him.

[At this point occurs the break in the story indicated in the preface, and the description of the Bull-Feast at which Lugaid Red-Stripes is elected king over all Ireland; also the exhortation that Cuchulain, supposed to be lying on his sick-bed, gives to Lugaid as to the duties of a king. After this insertion, which has no real connection with the story, the story itself proceeds, but from another point, for the thread is taken up at the place where Cuchulain has indeed awaked from his trance, but is still on his sick-bed; the message of Angus appears to have been given, but Cuchulain does not seem to have met Liban for the second time, nor to have sent Laeg to inquire. Ethne has disappeared as an actor from the scene; her place is taken by Emer, Cuchulain's real wife; and the whole style of the romance so alters for the better that, even if it were not for the want of agreement of the two versions, we could see that we have here two tales founded upon the same legend but by two different hands, the end of the first and the beginning of the second alike missing, and the gap filled in by the story of the election of Lugaid.]

Now as to Cuchulain it has to be related thus: He called upon Laeg to come to him; and "Do thou go, O Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "to the place where Emer is; and say to her that women of the fairies have come upon me, and that they have destroyed my strength; and say also to her that it goeth better with me from hour to hour, and bid her to come and seek me;" and the young man Laeg then spoke these words in order to hearten the mind of Cuchulain: It fits not heroes lying On sick-bed in a sickly sleep to dream: Witches before thee flying Of Trogach's fiery Plain the dwellers seem: They have beat down thy strength, Made thee captive at length, And in womanish folly away have they driven thee far.

Arise! no more be sickly!

Shake off the weakness by those fairies sent: For from thee parteth quickly Thy strength that for the chariot-chiefs was meant: Thou crouchest, like a youth!

Art thou subdued, in truth?

Have they shaken thy prowess and deeds that were meet for the war Yet Labra's power hath sent his message plain: Rise, thou that crouchest: and be great again.

And Laeg, after that heartening, departed; and he went on until he came to the place where Emer was; and he told her of the state of Cuchulain: "Ill hath it been what thou hast done, O youth!" she said; "for although thou art known as one who dost wander in the lands where the fairies dwell; yet no virtue of healing hast thou found there and brought for the cure of thy lord. Shame upon the men of Ulster!" she said, "for they have not sought to do a great deed, and to heal him. Yet, had Conor thus been fettered; had it been Fergus who had lost his sleep, had it been Conall the Victorious to whom wounds had been dealt, Cuchulain would have saved them." And she then sang a song, and in this fashion she sang it: Laeg! who oft the fairy hill[1]

Searchest, slack I find thee still; Lovely Dechtire's son shouldst thou By thy zeal have healed ere now.

Ulster, though for bounties famed, Foster-sire and friends are shamed: None hath deemed Cuchulain worth One full journey through the earth.

Yet, if sleep on Fergus fell, Such that magic arts dispel, Dechtire's son had restless rode Till a Druid raised that load.

Aye, had Conall come from wars, Weak with wounds and recent scars; All the world our Hound would scour Till he found a healing power.

Were it Laegaire[2] war had pressed, Erin's meads would know no rest, Till, made whole from wounds, he won Mach's grandchild, Conna's son.

Had thus crafty Celthar slept, Long, like him, by sickness kept; Through the elf-mounds, night and day, Would our Hound, to heal him, stray.

Furbaid, girt by heroes strong, Were it he had lain thus long; Ah! our Hound would rescue bear Though through solid earth he fare.

[1. The metre of these verses is that of the Irish.

2. p.r.o.nounced Leary.]

All the elves of Troom[1] seem dead; All their mighty deeds have fled; For their Hound, who hounds surpa.s.sed, Elves have bound in slumber fast.

Ah! on me thy sickness swerves, Hound of Smith who Conor serves!

Sore my heart, my flesh must be: May thy cure be wrought by me.

Ah! 'tis blood my heart that stains, Sick for him who rode the plains: Though his land be decked for feast, He to seek its plain hath ceased.

He in Emain still delays; 'Tis those Shapes the bar that raise: Weak my voice is, dead its tone, He in evil form is shown.

Month-long, year-long watch I keep; Seasons pa.s.s, I know not sleep: Men's sweet speech strikes not mine ear; Naught, Riangabra's[2] son, I hear.

And, after that she had sung that song, Emer went forward to Emain that she might seek for Cuchulain; and she seated herself in the chamber where Cuchulain was, and thus she addressed him: "Shame upon thee!" she said, "to lie thus prostrate for a woman's love! well may this long sickbed of thine cause thee to ail!" And it was in this fashion that she addressed him, and she chanted this lay: Stand up, O thou hero of Ulster!

Wake from sleep! rise up, joyful and sound!

Look on Conor the king! on my beauty, Will that loose not those slumbers profound?

[1. Spelt Truim.

2 p.r.o.nounced Reen-gabra.]

See the Ulstermen's clear shining shoulders!

Hear their trumpets that call to the fight!

See their war-cars that sweep through the valleys, As in hero-chess, leaping each knight.

See their chiefs, and the strength that adorns them, Their tall maidens, so stately with grace; The swift kings, springing on to the battle, The great queens of the Ulstermen's race!

The clear winter but now is beginning; Lo! the wonder of cold that hangs there!

'Tis a sight that should warn thee; how chilly!

Of what length 1 yet of colour how bare!

This long slumber is ill; it decays thee: 'Tis like "milk for the full" the saw saith Hard is war with fatigue; deadly weakness Is a Prince who stands second to Death.

Wake! 'tis joy for the sodden, this slumber; Throw it off with a great glowing heat: Sweet-voiced friends for thee wait in great number: Ulster's champion! stand up on thy feet!

And Cuchulain at her word stood up; and he pa.s.sed his hand over his face, and he cast all his heaviness and his weariness away from him, and then he arose, and went on his way before him until he came to the enclosure that he sought; and in that enclosure Liban appeared to him. And Liban spoke to him, and she strove to lead him into the fairy hill; but "What place is that in which Labraid dwelleth?" said Cuchulain. It is easy for me to tell thee!" she said: Labra's home's a pure lake, whither Troops of women come and go; Easy paths shall lead thee thither, Where thou shalt swift Labra know.

Hundreds his skilled arm repelleth; Wise be they his deeds who speak: Look where rosy beauty dwelleth; Like to that think Labra's cheek.

Head of wolf, for gore that thirsteth, Near his thin red falchion shakes; Shields that cloak the chiefs he bursteth, Arms of foolish foes he breaks.

Trust of friend he aye requiteth, Scarred his skin, like bloodshot eye; First of fairy men he fighteth; Thousands, by him smitten, die.

Chiefs at Echaid[1] Juil's name tremble; Yet his land-strange tale-he sought, He whose locks gold threads resemble, With whose breath wine-scents are brought.

More than all strife-seekers noted, Fiercely to far lands he rides; Steeds have trampled, skiffs have floated Near the isle where he abides.

Labra, swift Sword-Wielder, gaineth Fame for actions over sea; Sleep for all his watch sustaineth!

Sure no coward hound is he.

The chains on the necks of the coursers he rides, And their bridles are ruddy with gold: He hath columns of crystal and silver besides, The roof of his house to uphold.

[1. p.r.o.nounced, apparently, Ech-ay, the ch like the sound in "loch."]

"I will not go thither at a woman's call," said Cuchulain. "Let Laeg then go," said the lady, "and let him bring to thee tidings of all that is there." "Let him depart, then," said Cuchulain; and Laeg rose up and departed with Liban, and they came to the Plain of Speech, and to the Tree of Triumphs, and over the festal plain of Emain, and over the festal plain of Fidga, and in that place was Aed Abra, and with him his daughters.

Then Fand bade welcome to Laeg, and "How is it," said she, "that Cuchulain hath not come with thee?" "It pleased him not," said Laeg, "to come at a woman's call; moreover, he desired to know whether it was indeed from thee that had come the message, and to have full knowledge of everything." "It was indeed from me that the message was sent," she said; "and let now Cuchulain come swiftly to seek us, for it is for to-day that the strife is set." Then Laeg went back to the place where he had left Cuchulain, and Liban with him; and "How appeareth this quest to thee, O Laeg?" said Cuchulain. And Laeg answering said, "In a happy hour shalt thou go," said he, "for the battle is set for to-day;" and it was in this manner that he spake, and he recited thus: I went gaily through regions, Though strange, seen before: By his cairn found I Labra, A cairn for a score.

There sat yellow-haired Labra, His spears round him rolled; His long bright locks well gathered Round apple of gold.

On my five-folded purple His glance at length fell, And he said, "Come and enter Where Failbe doth dwell."

In one house dwells white Failbe, With Labra, his friend; And retainers thrice fifty Each monarch attend.

On the right, couches fifty, Where fifty men rest; On the left, fifty couches By men's weight oppressed.

For each couch copper frontings, Posts golden, and white; And a rich flashing jewel As torch, gives them light.

Near that house, to the westward, Where sunlight sinks down, Stand grey steeds, with manes dappled And steeds purple-brown.

On its east side are standing Three bright purple trees Whence the birds' songs, oft ringing The king's children please.

From a tree in the fore-court Sweet harmony streams; It stands silver, yet sunlit With gold's glitter gleams.

Sixty trees' swaying summits Now meet, now swing wide; Rindless food for thrice hundred Each drops at its side.

Near a well by that palace Gay cloaks spread out lie, Each with splendid gold fastening Well hooked through its eye.

They who dwell there, find flowing A vat of glad ale: 'Tis ordained that for ever That vat shall not fail.

From the hall steps a lady Well gifted, and fair: None is like her in Erin; Like gold is her hair.

And so sweet, and so wondrous Her words from her fall, That with love and with longing She breaks hearts of all.

"Who art thou?" said that lady, "For strange thou art here; But if Him of Murthemne Thou servest, draw near."

Slowly, slowly I neared her; I feared for my fame: And she said, "Comes he hither, Of Dechtire who came?"

Ah! long since, for thy healing, Thou there shouldst have gone, And have viewed that great palace Before me that shone.

Though I ruled all of Erin And yellow Breg's hill, I'd give all, no small trial, To know that land still.

"The quest then is a good one?" said Cuchulain. "It is goodly indeed," said Laeg, "and it is right that thou shouldest go to attain it, and all things in that land are good." And thus further also spoke Laeg, as he told of the loveliness of the fairy dwelling: I saw a land of n.o.ble form and splendid, Where dwells naught evil; none can speak a lie: There stands the king, by all his hosts attended, Brown Labra, swift to sword his hand can fly.

We crossed the Plain of Speech, our steps arrested Near to that Tree, whose branches triumphs bear; At length upon the hill-crowned plain we rested, And saw the Double-Headed Serpent's lair.