Early Irish Myths and Sagas

by Jeffrey Gantz

  crushes the ears of those who hear it.

  My heart is terribly wounded:

  a great fear has seized it.

  Then Fedilmid’s wife spoke to Cathub, for he was a wise man:

  Listen to Cathub, fair of face,

  a handsome prince, great and powerful his crown,

  exalted by his druid wisdom.

  I myself do not have the white words

  through which my husband might obtain

  an answer to his question,

  for, though it cried out in the cradle of my body,

  no woman knows

  what her womb bears.

  And Cathub replied:

  In the cradle of your womb there cried out

  a woman with twisted yellow hair

  and beautiful grey green eyes.

  Foxglove her purple pink cheeks,

  the colour of snow her flawless teeth,

  brilliant her Parthian-red lips.

  A woman over whom there will be great slaughter

  among the chariot-warriors of Ulaid.

  There screams in your roaring womb

  a tall, beautiful, long-haired woman

  whom champions will contest,

  whom high kings will woo;

  and to the west of Conchubur’s province

  there will be a rich harvest of fighting men.

  Parthian-red lips will frame

  those flawless teeth;

  high queens will envy her

  her matchless, faultless form.

  Then Cathub placed his hand on the woman’s womb, and the child murmured, and he said ‘Indeed, it is a girl, and her name will be Derdriu, and there will be trouble on her account.’ After the girl had been born, Cathub said:

  Though you may have fame and beauty,

  Derdriu, you will destroy much;

  Ulaid will suffer on your account,

  fair daughter of Fedilmid.

  And after that there will be still more deaths

  because of you, woman like a flame.

  In your lifetime – hear this –

  the three sons of Uisliu will be exiled.

  In your lifetime a violent deed

  will be done at Emuin;

  repented thereafter will be the treachery

  that violated the guarantee of mighty Fergus.

  Because of you, woman of fate,

  Fergus will be exiled from Ulaid,

  and – a deed that will cause much weeping –

  Conchubur’s son Fiachnae will be slain.

  Because of you, woman of fate,

  Gerrce son of Illadán will be slain,

  and – a crime no less awful –

  Eogan son of Durthacht will be destroyed.

  You will do a frightful fierce deed

  out of anger at Ulaid’s high king;

  your grave will be everywhere –

  yours will be a famous tale, Derdriu.

  ‘Let the child be slain!’ said the young warriors. ‘No,’ said Conchubur, ‘I will take her away tomorrow, and I will rear her as I see fit, and she will be my companion.’ And none of the Ulaid dared oppose him. Derdriu was reared by Conchubur until she was by far the most beautiful woman in Ériu. She was reared in a court apart, lest any of the Ulaid see her before she was to sleep with Conchubur, and no one was allowed into that court save her foster-father and her foster-mother and a woman named Lebarcham who was a satirist and could not be barred.

  One day, in winter, Derdriu’s foster-father was outside, in the snow, flaying a weaned calf for her. Derdriu saw a raven drinking the blood on the snow, and she said to Lebarcham ‘I could love a man with those three colours: hair like a raven, cheeks like blood and body like snow.’ ‘Then luck and good fortune are with you,’ answered Lebarcham, ‘for such a man is not far off. Ïn fact, he is quite near: Noísiu son of Uisliu.’ Derdriu replied ‘I will be ill, then, until I see him.’

  It happened one day that Noísiu was standing alone on the rampart of the stronghold of Emuin, and he was singing. The singing of the sons of Uisliu was very melodious: every cow that heard it gave two thirds more milk, and every man who heard it grew peaceful and sated with music. The sons of Uisliu were also good fighters: when they stood back to back, they could hold off the entire province of Ulaid. Moreover, they were as swift as hunting hounds and could overtake and kill wild animals.

  When Noísiu was outside alone, then, Derdriu stole out to him and made as if to go past, and he did not recognize her. ‘A fine heifer that that is going by,’ he said. ‘The heifers are bound to be fine where there are no bulls,’ she answered. ‘You have the bull of the province: the king of Ulaid,’ Noísiu said. ‘Between the two of you, I would choose a young bull like yourself,’ Derdriu replied. ‘No! There is Cathub’s prophecy,’ said Noísiu. ‘Are you rejecting me, then?’ she asked. ‘I am, indeed,’ he answered. At that, Derdriu leapt at him and seized him by the ears, saying ‘Two ears of shame and mockery these unless you take me with you!’ Away from me, woman!’ Noísiu said. ‘Too late!’ answered Derdriu.

  With that, Noísiu began to sing. When the Ulaid heard his singing they rose up against each other, but the other sons of Uisliu went out to restrain their brother. ‘What are you doing?’ they asked. ‘The Ulaid will be coming to blows on your account.’ Then Noísiu told his brothers what had happened. ‘Evil will come of this,’ they said. ‘Even so, you will not be disgraced while we are alive. We will all take her to another land – there is not in Ériu a king who will turn us away.’ That was their advice. They departed that night: three fifties of warriors and three fifties of women and three fifties of hounds and three fifties of servants and Derdriu mingled in with them.

  For a long time, the brothers found protection with kings throughout Ériu, though through his snares and treacheries Conchubur often attempted to destroy them, from Ess Rúaid to the south-west and then back north-east to Bend Étair. Finally, the Ulaid drove them out of Ériu and into Albu; there, they settled in the wilderness, and, when the game of the mountains ran out, they helped themselves to cattle. One day, the men of Albu gathered to destroy them, so they went to the king of Albu, and he took them into his entourage; they became mercenaries and erected their dwellings on the green. Because of Derdriu, they built their houses so that no one could see her, for they feared there might be killing on her account.

  Early one morning, however, the king’s steward went out round the house of Derdriu and Noísiu, and he saw the lovers sleeping. At once, he went and awakened the king, saying ‘Until now, we have not found a woman worthy of you. But there is with Noísiu son of Uisliu a woman worthy of the king of the western world. Let Noísiu be slain that the woman might sleep with you.’ ‘No,’ replied the king, ‘but go to her each day in secret and woo her for me.’

  The steward did that, but everything he said to Derdriu she told Noísiu the same night. Since nothing could be got from her, the sons of Uisliu were sent into battles and hazards and dangerous situations that they might be killed, but they were so hardy that every attempt failed. So the men of Albu gathered to kill them; they told Derdriu, and she told Noísiu, saying ‘Depart! Unless you leave tonight, you will be slain tomorrow.’ That night, Derdriu and the sons of Uisliu departed and went to an island in the sea.

  This news reached the Ulaid, and they said to Conchubur ‘A pity that the sons of Uisliu should die in a strange land because of a bad woman. Better that you should be lenient and not slay them – let them return and take them in.’ ‘Let them come, then,’ said Conchubur, ‘or let guarantors be sent to them.’ That message was taken to Noísiu and his brothers, and they replied ‘A welcome message that. We will come; we ask for Fergus as a guarantor, and Dubthach, and Conchubur’s son Cormac.’

  So these men went to Albu and accompanied Derdriu and the sons of Uisliu back to Ériu. On Conchubur’s orders, however, the Ulaid all strove to invite Fergus to feasts and banquets, for the sons of Uisliu had sworn that the first food they touched in Ériu wo
uld be Conchubur’s. Thus, Fergus and Dubthach remained behind, while Fergus’s son Fíachu went on with Derdriu and the sons of Uisliu until they reached the green of Emuin Machae. Meanwhile, Éogan son of Durthacht, the king of Fernmag, had made up with Conchubur – the two had long been at odds – and had been charged to kill the sons of Uisliu, who would be kept from Conchubur by the king of Ulaid’s mercenaries.

  The sons of Uisliu were waiting in the centre of the green; the women of Emuin were sitting along the ramparts; Éogan was crossing the green with his troops. Fíachu came up to join Noísiu. Éogan, however, greeted Noísiu with the point of his spear and broke his back. At that, Fíachu put his arms round Noísiu and pulled him down and covered him, so that thereafter Noísiu was struck from above through the son of Fergus. The sons of Uisliu were then hunted from one end of the green to the other, and no one escaped save by point of spear and edge of sword. Derdriu was taken to stand beside Conchubur, her hands tied behind her.

  This news reached Fergus and Dubthach and Cormac, and at once they went to Emuin and performed great deeds. Dubthach killed Conchubur’s son Mane and dispatched Fíachnae, the son of Conchubur’s daughter Fedelm, with a single blow; Fergus killed Traigthrén son of Traiglethan and his brother. Conchubur was outraged, and a battle ensued: in one day, three hundred Ulaid fell, and Dubthach slew the young women of the province, and Fergus fired Emuin. Afterwards, Fergus and Dubthach and Cormac and their followers went to Connachta, for they knew that Ailill and Medb would maintain them, though Connachta was no refuge of love for men from Ulaid. Three thousand was the number of the exiles, and, for sixteen years, these people saw that there was weeping and trembling in Ulaid every night.

  Derdriu spent the year following Noísiu’s death with Conchubur, and, during that time, she neither laughed nor smiled, nor did she ever have her fill of food or sleep. She never lifted her head from her knee, and, whenever musicians were brought to her, she recited this poem:

  Fair to you the ardent warriors

  who march into Emuin after an expedition;

  more nobly did they march to their dwelling,

  the three very heroic sons of Uisliu.

  Noísiu with fine hazel mead

  (I would wash him by the fire),

  Arddán with a stag or fine pig,

  Tall Aindle with a load on his back.

  Sweet to you the fine mead

  that battle-glorious Conchubur drinks;

  but often I had before me, across the ocean,

  food that was sweeter.

  When modest Noísiu spread out

  the cooking hearth on the wild forest floor,

  sweeter than any honeyed food

  was what the son of Uisliu prepared.

  Melodious always to you

  your pipers and trumpeters;

  yet today I tell you

  I have heard music that was sweeter.

  Melodious to Conchubur, your king,

  his pipers and trumpeters;

  sweeter to me – fame of hosts –

  the singing of the sons of Uisliu.

  A wave the sound of Noísiu’s voice –

  his singing was always sweet;

  Arddán’s baritone was good,

  and Aindle’s tenor from his hunting lodge.

  Noísiu’s grave has now been made,

  and the accompaniment was mournful.

  For him I poured out – hero of heroes –

  the deadly drink that killed him.

  Dear his short shining hair,

  a handsome man, even very beautiful;

  sad that I cannot await him today,

  cannot expect the son of Uisliu.

  Dear his desire, right and proper,

  dear this modest noble warrior;

  after his going to the forest’s edge,

  dear his company in the early morning.

  Dear the grey eyes that women loved;

  fierce they were to foes.

  After a circuit of the forest – a noble union –

  dear his tenor through the great dark wood.

  I do not sleep now,

  nor do I brighten my nails:

  there is no joy for me

  since the son of Tindell will not come.

  I do not sleep

  but lie awake half the night;

  my thoughts flee from these hosts,

  I neither eat nor smile.

  I have today no cause for joy

  in the assembly of Emuin – throng of chieftains –

  no peace, no delight, no comfort,

  no great house, no fine adornments.

  And whenever Conchubur tried to comfort her, she would recite this poem to him:

  Conchubur, be quiet!

  You have brought me grief upon sorrow;

  as long as I live, surely,

  your love will be of no concern to me.

  You have taken from me – a great crime –

  the one I thought most beautiful on earth,

  the one I loved most.

  I will not see him again until I die.

  His absence is my despair,

  the absence of the son of Uisliu.

  A jet black cairn over his white body

  once so well known among men.

  Brighter than a river meadow his glistening cheeks,

  red his lips, beetle-black his brows;

  the noble colour of snow

  his shining, pearly teeth.

  Well known his bright garb

  among the warriors of Albu;

  fair and brilliant his mantle – a noble union –

  with its fringe of red gold.

  A true treasure his satin tunic

  with its hundred gems – a gentle number –

  and for decoration, clear and shining,

  fifty ounces of white gold.

  A gold-hiked sword in his hand,

  two steely spears with javelin points;

  a shield with a rim of yellow gold

  and a boss of silver.

  Fair Fergus betrayed us

  after bringing us across the great sea;

  he sold his honour for beer,

  his great deeds are no more.

  Although the Ulaid might gather

  about Conchubur upon the plain,

  I would forsake them all, openly,

  for the company of Noísiu son of Uisliu.

  Break no more my heart today –

  I will reach my early grave soon enough.

  Sorrow is stronger than the sea

  if you are wise, Conchubur.

  ‘What do you hate most that you see?’ asked Conchubur. ‘Yourself, surely, and Éogan son of Durthacht,’ she replied. ‘Then you will spend a year with Éogan,’ Conchubur said. He took her to Éogan. The following day they went to a fair at Emuin Machae, Derdriu standing behind Éogan in his chariot. She had sworn that she would never see her two companions together in the same place. ‘Well, Derdriu,’ said Conchubur, ‘it is the eye of a ewe between two rams you make between myself and Éogan.’ There was a great boulder before Derdriu. She let her head be driven against it, and the boulder made fragments of her head, and she died.

  Notes

  Introduction

  1. Myles Dillon and Nora Chadwick, The Celtic Realms (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 1–2, 214.

  2. Leon E. Stover and Bruce Kraig, Stonehenge: The Indo-European Heritage (Chicago: Nelson-Hall, 1978), p. 141.

  3. Herodotos, 2:33.

  4. Strabo, Ceographia, 4.4.4 (translation by Timothy Gantz).

  5. Diodorus Siculus, 5:31.2, 4–5 (translation by Timothy Gantz).

  6. Proinsias Mac Cana, Celtic Mythology (London: Hamlyn, 1970), p. 127.

  7. Julius Caesar, De bello gallico, 6. 17.

  8. Lucian, Herakles, 1. 1.

  9. Lucan, De bello civili, 1. 444–6.

  10. Frank O’Connor, The Backward Look: A Survey of Irish Literature (London: Macmillan, 1967), p. 242.

  11. A rhetoric i
s a dense, archaic poetic passage.

  12. James Delargy, The Gaelic Story-teller (London: G. Cumber-Iege, 1947), p. 32.

  13. K. H. Jackson, The Oldest Irish Tradition: A Window on the Iron Age (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964).

  The Wooing of Étaín

  1. Frank O’Connor, The Backward Look, p. 43.

  2. Bóand: ‘white cow’; Bóand is also the Old Irish name for the river Boyne. Echu: ‘horse’.

  3. Macc Oc: ‘young son’.

  4. Cumal: a female slave, worth three milch cows or six heifers.

  5. Síde: the people of the otherworld, often equated with the Túatha Dé Danand (the People of the Goddess Danu). An otherworld mound is called a síd.

  6. Feis: originally, a feast during which the tribe’s king was married to its tutelary goddess; the meaning later became generalized. The word feis is formed from an Irish verb meaning ‘to sleep with’; it is not related to the Latin word festa or the English feast.

  7. Fidchell: ‘wood sense’ – a board game, similar to chess, in which one side’s king attempts to escape to the edge of the board while the other side’s men attempt to prevent him.

  8. Airem: ‘ploughman’.

  9. Bé Find: ‘fair woman’.

  The Destruction of Da Derga’s Hostel

  1. Fían (pl. fíana): a band of roving warriors.

  2. Geiss (pl. gessa): a taboo, usually religious in origin.

  3. Bretain: the British isle, perhaps the southern part

  4. Deirg: like the name in the title, this means ‘red’.

  5. Dond: probably the chthonic god Dond.

  6. Popa: a term of affection and respect used in addressing an elder.

  7. Third time’: there is no second time.

  8. ‘Ant of the ancient earth’: a wolf.

  The Cattle Raid of Fróech

  1. Bé Find: in ‘The Wooing of Étaín’ this name appears as an epithet for Etain rather than as the name of Bóand’s sister.

  2. ‘Candle of a king’s house’: a spear.

  The Boyhood Deeds of Cû Chulaind

  1. Ríastarthae: Cú Chulaind’s special battle fury.

  2. Féni: the Irish word for the Irish.

  3. Del chliss: one of Cú Chulaind’s spear-thrusting feats.