Chapter 40
[14-14] LU. and YBL. 1732.
[1-1] Eg. 93 and H. 2. 17.
[2-2] LU. and YBL. 1735-1736.
[3-3] Eg. 93 and H. 2. 17.
[4]"That is enough now," spake Loch; "I am smitten by that.[4] [5]For thine honour's sake[5] [6]and on the truth of thy valour and skill in arms,[6]
grant me a boon now, O Cuchulain," said Loch. "What boon askest thou?"
"'Tis no boon of quarter nor a prayer of cowardice that I make of thee,"
said Loch. "But fall back a step from me [7]and permit me to rise,[7] that it be on my face to the east I fall and not on my back to the west toward the warriors of Erin, to the end that no man of them shall say, [8]if I fall on my back,[8] it was in retreat or in flight I was before thee, for fallen I have by the Gae Bulga!" "That will I do," answered Cuchulain, "for 'tis a [9]true[9] warrior's prayer that thou makest."
[4-4] Eg. 93.
[5-5] Stowe.
[6-6] Eg. 93.
[7-7] Stowe.
[8-8] Eg. 93 and H. 2. 17.
[9-9] Eg. 93 and H. 2. 17.
And Cuchulain stepped back, [10]so that Loch fell on his face, and his soul parted from his body and Laeg despoiled him.[10] [11]Cuchulain cut off his head then.[11] Hence cometh [W.2314.] the name the ford bears ever since, namely Ath Traged ('Foot-ford') in Cenn Tire Moir ('Great Headland').
[1]It was then they broke their terms of fair fight that day with Cuchulain, when five men went against him at one time, namely the two Cruaid, the two Calad and Derothor. All alone, Cuchulain killed them. Hence cometh Coicsius Focherda ('Fochard's Fortnight') and Coicer Oengoirt ('Five Warriors in one Field'). Or it may be, fifteen days Cuchulain pa.s.sed in Fochard and it is hence cometh Coicsius Focherda on the Tain.[1]
[10-10] Eg. 93 and H. 2. 17.
[11-11] LU. fo. 77a, in the margin.
[1-1] LU. and YBL. 1739-1743.
And deep distress[a] possessed Cuchulain that day [2]more than any other day[2] for his being all alone on the Tain, [3]confronting four of the five grand provinces of Erin,[3] [4]and he sank into swoons and faints.[4]
Thereupon Cuchulain enjoined upon Laeg his charioteer to go to the men of Ulster, that
"Rise, O Laeg, arouse the hosts, Say for me in Emain strong: I am worn each day in fight, Full of wounds, and bathed in gore!
"My right side and eke my left: Hard to say which suffers worse; Fingin's[b] hand hath touched them not, Stanching blood with strips of wood!
[W.2329.] "Bring this word to Conchobar dear, I am weak, with wounded sides.
Greatly has he changed in mien, Dechtire's fond, rich-trooped son!
"I alone these cattle guard, Leave them not, yet hold them not.
Ill my plight, no hope for me, Thus alone on many fords!
"Showers of blood rain on my arms, Full of hateful wounds am I.
No friend comes to help me here, Save my charioteer alone!
"Few make music here for me, Joy I've none in single horn.
When the mingled trumpets sound,[a]
This is sweetest from the drone!
"This old saying, ages old:-- 'Single log gives forth no flame;'
Let there be a two or three, Up the firebrands all will blaze!
"One sole log burns not so well As when one burns by its side.
Guile can be employed on one; Single mill-stone doth not grind!
"Hast not heard at every time, 'One is duped'?--'tis true of me.
That is why I cannot last These long battles of the hosts!
"However small a host may be, It receives some thought and pains; Take but this: its daily meat On one fork is never cooked!
"Thus alone I've faced the host, By the ford in broad Cantire; Many came, both Loch and Badb, As foretold in 'Regomain!'[b]
"Loch has mangled my two thighs; Me the grey-red wolf hath bit; Loch my sides[c] has wounded sore, And the eel has dragged me down!
"With my spear I kept her off; I put out the she-wolf's eye; [W.2371.] And I broke her lower leg, At the outset of the strife!
"Then when Laeg sent Aife's spear,[a]
Down the stream--like swarm of bees-- That sharp deadly spear I hurled, Loch, [1]Mobebuis'[1] son, fell there!
"Will not Ulster battle give To Ailill and Eocho's la.s.s,[b]
While I linger here in pain, Full of wounds and bathed in blood?
[LL.fo.75b.] "Tell the splendid Ulster chiefs They shall come to guard their drove.
Maga's sons[c] have seized their kine And have portioned them all out!
"Fight on fight--though much I vowed, I have kept my word in all.
For pure honour's sake I fight; 'Tis too much to fight alone!
"Vultures joyful at the breach In Ailill's and in Medb's camp.
Mournful cries of woe are heard; On Murthemne's plain is grief!
"Conchobar comes not out with help; In the fight, no troops of his.
Should one leave _him_ thus alone, Hard 'twould be his rage to tell!
[1]"Men have almost worn me out In these single-handed fights; Warrior's deeds I cannot do, Now that I must fight alone!"[1]
[a] Literally 'repentance.'
[2-2] Stowe.
[3-3] Stowe.
[4-4] Eg. 93 and H. 2. 17.