Poems by Denis Florence MacCarthy (great novels txt) 📕

stopped. Upon the southern bank Ferdiah stood, and thus addressed the chief: "Glad am I, O Cuchullin, thou hast come." "Up to this day," Cuchullin made reply, "Thy welcome would by me have been received As coming from a friend, but not to-day. Besides, 'twere fitter that I welcomed thee, Than that to me thou shouldst the welcome give; 'Tis I that should go forth to fight with thee, Not thou to me, because before thee are My women and my children, and my youths, My herds and flocks, my horses and my steeds."
Ferdiah, half in scorn, spake then these words- And then Cuchullin answered in his turn. "Good, O Cuchullin, what untoward fate Has brought thee here to measure swords with me? For when we two with Scatha lived, in Skye, With Uatha, and with Aife, thou wert then My page to spread my couch for me at night, Or tie my spears together for the chase."
"True hast thou spoken," said Cuchullin; "yes, I then was young, thy junior, and I did For thee the services thou dost recall; A different story shall be told of us From this day forth, for on this day I feel Earth holds no champion that I dare not fight!" And thus invectives bitter, sharp and cold, Between the two were uttered, and first spake Ferdiah, then alternate each with each.

FERDIAH.

What has brought thee here, O Hound,
To encounter a strong foe? O'er the trappings of thy steeds
Crimson-red thy blood shall flow. Woe is in thy journey, woe;
Let the cunning leech prepare; Shouldst thou ever reach thy home,
Thou shalt need his care.

CUCHULLIN.

I, who here with warriors fought,
With the lordly chiefs of hosts, With a hundred men at once,
Little heed thy empty boasts. Thee beneath the wave to place,
Thee to strike and thee to slay In the first path of our fight
Am I here to-day.

FERDIAH.

Thy reproach in me behold,
For 'tis I that deed will do, 'Tis of me that Fame shall tell
He the Ultonian's champion slew. Yes, in spite of all their hosts,
Yes, in spite of all their prayers: So it shall long be told
That the loss was theirs.

CUCHULLIN.

How, then, shall we first engage-
Is it with the hard-edged sword? In what order shall we go
To the battle of the Ford? Shall we in our chariots ride?
Shall we wield the bloody spear? How am I to hew thee down
With thy proud hosts here?

FERDIAH.

Ere the setting of the sun,
Ere shall come the darksome night, If again thou must be told,
With a mountain thou shalt fight: Thee the Ultonians will extol,
Thence impetuous wilt thou grow, Oh! their grief, when through their ranks
Will thy spectre go!

CUCHULLIN.

Thou hast fallen in danger's gap,
Yes, thy end of life is nigh; Sharp spears shall be plied on thee
Fairly 'neath the open sky: Pompous thou wilt be and vain
Till the time for talk is o'er, From this day a battle-chief
Thou shalt be no more.

FERDIAH.

Cease thy boastings, for the world
Sure no braggart hath like thee: Thou art not the chosen chief-
Thou hast not the champion's fee:- Without action, without force,
Thou art but a giggling page; Yes, thou trembler, with thy heart
Like a bird's in cage.

CUCHULLIN.

When we were with Scatha once,
It but seemed our valour's due That we should together fight,
Both as one our sports pursue. Thou wert then my dearest friend,
Comrade, kinsman, thou wert all,- Ah, how sad, if by my hand
Thou at last should fall.

FERDIAH.

Much of honour shalt thou lose,
We may then mere words forego:- On a stake thy head shall be
Ere the early cock shall crow. O Cuchullin, Cuailgne's pride,
Grief and madness round thee twine; I will do thee every ill,
For the fault is thine.

"Good, O Ferdiah, 'twas no knightly act," Cuchullin said, "to have come meanly here, To combat and to fight with an old friend, Through instigation of the wily Mave, Through intermeddling of Ailill the king; To none of those who here before thee came Was victory given, for they all fell by me:- Thou too shalt win nor victory, nor increase Of fame in this encounter thou dost dare, For as they fell, so thou by me shall fall." Thus was he saying and he spake these words, To which Ferdiah listened, not unmoved.

CUCHULLIN.

Come not to me, O champion of the host,
Come not to me, Ferdiah, as my foe, For though it is thy fate to suffer most,
All, all must feel the universal woe.

Come not to me defying what is right,
Come not to me, thy life is in my power; Ah, the dread issue of each former fight
Why hast thou not remembered ere this hour?

Art thou not bright with diverse dainty arms,
A purple girdle and a coat of mail? And yet to win the maid of peerless charms
For whom thou dar'st the battle thou shalt fail.

Yes, Finavair, the daughter of the queen,
The faultless form, the gold without alloy, The glorious virgin of majestic mien,
Shalt not be thine, Ferdiah, to enjoy.

No, the great prize shall not by thee be won,-
A fatal lure, a false, false light is she, To numbers promised and yet given to none,
And wounding many as she now wounds thee.

Break not thy vow, never with me to fight,
Break not the bond that once thy young heart gave, Break not the truth we both so loved to plight,
Come not to me, O champion bold and brave!

To fifty champions by her smiles made slaves
The maid was proffered, and not slight the gift; By me they have been sent into their graves,
From me they met destruction sure and swift.

Though vauntingly Ferbaeth my arms defied,
He of a house of heroes prince and peer, Short was the time until I tamed his pride
With one swift cast of my true battle-spear.

Srub Daire's valour too had swift decline:
Hundreds of women's secrets he possessed, Great at one time was his renown as thine,
In cloth of gold, not silver, was he dressed.

Though 'twas to me the woman was betrothed
On whom the chiefs of the fair province smile, To shed thy blood my spirit would have loathed
East, west, or north, or south of all the isle.

"Good, O Ferdiah," still continuing, spoke Cuchullin, "thus it is that thou shouldst not Have come with me to combat and to fight; For when we were with Scatha, long ago, With Uatha and with Aife, we were wont To go together to each battle-field, To every combat and to every fight, Through every forest, every wilderness, Through every darksome path and dangerous way." And thus he said and thus he spake these words:

CUCHULLIN.

We were heart-comrades then,- Comrades in crowds of men, In the same bed have lain,
When slumber sought us; In countries far and near, Hurling the battle spear, Chasing the forest deer,
As Scatha taught us.

"O Cuchullin of the beautiful feats," Replied Ferdiah, "though we have pursued Together thus the arts of war and peace, And though the bonds of friendship that we swore Thou hast recalled to mind, from me shall come Thy first of wounds. O Hound, remember not Our old companionship, which shall not now Avail thee, shall avail thee not, O Hound!" "Too long here have we waited in this way," Again resumed Ferdiah. "To what arms, Say then, Cuchullin, shall we now resort?" "The choice of arms is thine until the night," Cuchullin made reply; "for so it chanced That thou shouldst be the first to reach the Ford." "Dost thou at all remember," then rejoined Ferdiah, "those swift missive spears with which We practised oft with Scatha in our youth, With Uatha and with Aife, and our friends?" "Them I, indeed, remember well," replied Cuchullin. "If thou dost remember well, Let us to them resort," Ferdiah said. Their missive weapons then on either side They both resorted to. Upon their arms They braced two emblematic missive shields, And their eight well-turned-handled lances took, Their eight quill-javelins also, and their eight White ivory-hilted swords, and their eight spears, Sharp, ivory-hafted, with hard points of steel. Betwixt the twain the darts went to and fro, Like bees upon the wing on a fine day; No cast was made that was not sure to hit. From morn to nigh mid-day the missiles flew, Till on the bosses of the brazen shields Their points were blunted, but though true the aim, And excellent the shooting, the defence Was so complete that not a wound was given, And neither champion drew the other's blood. "'Tis time to drop these feats," Ferdiah said, "For not by such as these shall we decide Our battle here this day." "Let us desist," Cuchullin answered, "if the time hath come." They ceased, and threw their missile shafts aside Into the hands of their two charioteers. "What weapons, O Cuchullin, shall we now Resort to?" said Ferdiah. "Unto thee," Cuchullin answered, "doth belong the choice Of arms until the night, because thou wert The first that reached the Ford." "Well, let us, then," Ferdiah said, "resume our straight, smooth, hard, Well-polished spears with their hard flaxen strings." "Let us resume them, then," Cuchullin said. They braced upon their arms two stouter shields, And then resorted to their straight, smooth, hard, Well-polished spears, with their hard flaxen strings.[50] 'Twas now mid-day, and thus 'till eventide They shot against each other with the spears. But though the guard was good on either side, The shooting was so perfect that the blood Ran from the wounds of each, by each made red. "Let us now, O Cuchullin," interposed Ferdiah, "for the present time desist." "Let us indeed desist," Cuchullin said "If, O Ferdiah, the fit time hath come." They ceased, and laid their gory weapons down, Their faithful charioteers' attendant care. Each to the other gently then approached, Each round the other's neck his hands entwined, And gave him three fond kisses on the cheek. Their horses fed in the same field that night, Their charioteers were warmed at the same fire, Their charioteers beneath their bodies spread Green rushes, and beneath the heads the down Of wounded men's soft pillows. Then the skilled Professors of the art of healing came With herbs, which to the scars of all their wounds They put. Of every herb and healing plant That to Cuchullin's wound they did apply, He would an equal portion westward send Over the Ford, Ferdiah's wounds to heal. So that the men of Erin could not say, If it should chance Ferdiah fell by him, That it was through superior skill and care Cuchullin was enabled him to slay.