The Ancient Irish Epic Tale Táin Bó Cúalnge

by Unknown

W. 1013. "As for the boys: They were in Emain until the time came for them to disperse. Each of them went to the house of his father and mother, of his foster-mother and foster-father. Then the little lad went on the trail of the party, till he reached the house of Culann the Smith. He began to shorten the way as he went with his play-things. [¹]He threw his ball and threw his club after it, so that it hit the ball. The one throw was no greater than the other. Then he threw his staff after them both, so that it reached the ball and the club before ever they fell.[¹] [²]Soon the lad came up.[²] When he was nigh to the green of the fort wherein were Culann and Conchobar, he threw all his play-things before him except only the ball. The watch-dog descried the lad and bayed at him, so that in all the countryside was heard the howl of the watch-hound. And not a division of feasting was what he was inclined to make of him, but to swallow him down at one gulp past the cavity ^*LL. fo. 64a. of his chest and the width of his throat and the pipe of his breast. [³]And it interfered not with the lad's play, although the hound made for him.[³] And the lad had not with him any means of defence, but he hurled an unerring cast of the ball, so that it passed through the gullet of the watch-dog's neck and carried the guts within him out through his back door, and he laid hold of the hound by the two legs and dashed him against a pillar-stone [⁴]that was near him, so that every limb of him sprang apart,[⁴] so that he broke into bits all over the ground.[^a] Conchobar heard the yelp of the ban-dog. [⁵]Conchobar and his people could not move; they weened they would not find the lad alive before them.[⁵] "Alas, O warriors," cried Conchobar; "in no good luck W. 1029. have we come to enjoy this feast." "How so?" asked all. "The little lad who has come to meet me, my sister's son, Setanta son of Sualtaim, is undone through the hound." As one man, arose all the renowned men of Ulster. Though a door of the hostel was thrown wide open, they all rushed in the other direction out over the palings of the fortress. But fast as they all got there, faster than all arrived Fergus, and he lifted the little lad from the ground on the slope of his shoulder and bore him into the presence of Conchobar. [¹]They put him on Conchobar's knee. A great alarm arose amongst them that the king's sister's son should have been all but killed.[¹] And Culann came out, and he saw his slaughter-hound in many pieces. He felt his heart beating against his breast. Whereupon he went into the dûn. "Welcome thy coming, little lad," said Culann, "because of thy mother and father, but not welcome is thy coming for thine own sake. [²]Yet would that I had not made a feast."[²] "What hast thou against the lad?" queried Conchobar. "Not luckily for me hast thou come to quaff my ale and to eat my food; for my substance is now a wealth gone to waste, and my livelihood is a livelihood lost [³]now after my dog.[³] [⁴]He hath kept honour and life for me.[⁴] Good was the friend thou hast robbed me of, [⁵]even my dog,[⁵] in that he tended my herds and flocks and stock for me; [⁶]he was the protection of all our cattle, both afield and at home."[⁶] "Be not angered thereat, O Culann my master," said the little boy. [⁷]"It is no great matter,[⁷] for I will pass a just judgement upon it." "What judgement thereon wilt thou pass, lad?" Conchobar asked. "If there is a whelp of the breed of that dog in Erin, he shall be reared by me till he be fit to do W. 1049. business as was his sire. [¹]Till then[¹] myself will be the hound to protect his flocks and his cattle and his land [²]and even himself[²] in the meanwhile. [³]And I will safeguard the whole plain of Murthemne, and no one will carry off flock nor herd without that I know it."[³]

""Well hast thou given judgement, little lad," said Conchobar. "In sooth, we [⁴]ourselves[⁴] could not give one that would be better," said Cathba.[^a] "Why should it not be from this that thou shouldst take the name Cuchulain, ('Wolfhound of Culann')?" "Nay, then," answered the lad; "dearer to me mine own name, Setanta son of Sualtaim." "Say not so, lad," Cathba continued; "for the men of Erin and Alba shall hear that name and the mouths of the men of Erin and Alba shall be full of that name!" "It pleaseth me so, whatever the name that is given me," quoth the little lad. Hence the famous name that stuck to him, namely Cuchulain, after he had killed the hound that was Culann's the Smith's.

"A little lad did that deed," ^*LL. fo. 64b. added Cormac Conlongas son of Conchobar, "when he had completed six years after his birth, when he slew the watch-dog that hosts nor companies dared not approach in the same cantred. No need would there be of wonder or of surprise if he should come to the edge of the marches, if he should cut off the four-pronged fork, if he should slay one man or two men or three men or four men, now when his seventeen years are completed on the Cattle-driving of Cualnge!"

VIIb. [¹]THE TAKING OF ARMS BY CUCHULAIN AND[¹] [²]THE SLAYING OF THE THREE SONS OF NECHT SCENE IS NOW TOLD HERE[²]

W. 1068. "The little lad performed a third deed in the following year," said Fiachu son of Firaba. "What deed performed he?" asked Ailill.

"Cathba the druid was [³]with his son, namely Conchobar son of Ness,[³] imparting [⁴]learning[⁴] to his pupils in the north-east of Emain, and eight[^a] [⁵]eager[⁵] pupils in the class of druidic cunning were with him. [⁶]That is the number that Cathba instructed.[⁶] [⁷]One of them[⁷] questioned his teacher, what fortune and presage might there be for the day they were in, whether it was good or whether it was ill. Then spake Cathba: "The little boy that takes arms [⁸]this day[⁸] shall be splendid and renowned [⁹]for deeds of arms[⁹] [¹⁰]above the youths of Erin [¹¹]and the tales of his high deeds shall be told[¹¹] forever,[¹⁰] but he shall be short-lived and fleeting." Cuchulain overheard what he said, though far off at his play-feats south-west of Emain; and he threw away all his play-things and hastened to Conchobar's sleep-room [¹²]to ask for arms.[¹²] "All W. 1077. good attend thee, O king of the Fenè!" cried the little lad. "This greeting is the speech of one soliciting something of some one. What wouldst thou, lad?" said Conchobar. "To take arms," the lad made answer. "Who hath advised thee, little boy?" asked Conchobar. "Cathba the druid," said the lad. "He would not deceive thee, little boy," said Conchobar. Conchobar gave him two spears and a sword and a shield. The little boy shook and brandished the arms [¹]in the middle of the house[¹] so that he made small pieces and fragments of them. Conchobar gave him other two spears and a shield and a sword. He shook and brandished, flourished and poised them, so that he shivered them into small pieces and fragments. There where were the fourteen[^a] suits of arms which Conchobar had in Emain, [²]in reserve in case of breaking of weapons or[²] for equipping the youths and the boys—to the end that whatever boy assumed arms, it might be Conchobar that gave him the equipment of battle, and the victory of cunning would be his thenceforward—even so, this little boy made splinters and fragments of them all.

""Truly these arms here are not good, O Conchobar my master," the stripling cried. "Herefrom cometh not what is worthy of me." Conchobar gave him his own two spears and his shield and his sword. He shook and he brandished, he bent and he poised them so that tip touched butt, and he brake not the arms and they bore up against him, [³]and he saluted the king whose arms they were.[³] "Truly, these arms are good," said the little boy; "they are suited to me. Hail to the king whose arms and equipment these are. Hail to the land whereout he is come!"

"Then Cathba the druid chanced to come into the tent, and what he said was, "Hath he yonder taken arms?" W. 1101. Cathba asked. "Aye, then, it must be," Conchobar answered. "Not by [¹]his[¹] mother's son would I wish them to be taken this day," said Cathba. "How so? Was it not thyself advised him?" Conchobar asked. "Not I, in faith," replied Cathba. "What mean'st thou, bewitched elf-man?" cried Conchobar [²]to Cuchulain.[²] "Is it a lie thou hast told us?" ^*LL. fo. 65a. "But be not wroth [³]thereat,[³] O my master Conchobar," said the little boy. [⁴]"No lie have I told;[⁴] for yet is it he that advised me, [⁵]when he taught his other pupils this morning.[⁵] For his pupil asked him what luck might lie in the day, and he said: The youth that took arms on this day would be illustrious and famous, [⁶]that his name would be over the men of Erin for ever, and that no evil result would be on him thereafter,[⁶] except that he would be fleeting and short-lived. [⁷]To the south of Emain I heard him, and then I came to thee."[⁷] "That I avow to be true," spake Cathba. [⁸]"Good indeed is the day,[⁸] glorious and renowned shalt thou be, [⁹]the one that taketh arms,[⁹] yet passing and short lived!" "Noble the gift!" cried Cuchulain. [¹⁰]"Little it recks me,[¹⁰] though I should be but one day and one night in the world, if only the fame of me and of my deeds live after me!"