BOOK VIII

The Four Great Fifths beside Ath Gowla so Remained that night; and so with histories, Recounting notable things, Al-yill and Maev With all the kings and chieftains whiled away The fore-part of that night. And if thereafter Upon the men of Ulster there was joy And gladness and delight of mind and spirit,— Upon the chiefs of Erin there was grief, Because they knew the youth who had performed Those things recounted would perform yet greater Before them in the land whereto they journeyed, The land of Cooley. When the glorious sun Next morn filled up with light each hollow glen Throughout the lands of Erin, Al-yill said: “Let us move forward.” Then they crossed Ath Gowla, And moved along through the long forest-pass. Cucullin went before them where they went. He felled an oak athwart the forest-passage Ahead of them; and on its side he wrote In ogam that ’twas gass on any man To go beyond it till some chariot-rider Should leap it with his chariot. The hosts pitched Their tents in front of it; and chariot-riders Went in their chariots to o’erleap it. Thirty Good steeds fell there; and thirty chariots there Were broken wretchedly. The Pass of Awny,— That is the name upon that pass for ever. They stayed there till the morrow’s dawning-time. Then Maev procured that Frae, the glistering, Strong son of Eedath, should be brought to her. “Help us, O Frae,” said Maev, “remove from us This strait and hindrance. Rise from us. Go forth, That thou perchance mayst fight and slay Cucullin.” Frae at that early dawning-hour went forth: He took with him eight others: he arrived Beside Ath Foo-id and descried the youth At bathing in the pure, cold river there. “Bide for me here,” Frae said then to his people, “While I myself go to yon man ye see. The water is not good,” said he. He flung His raiment from him then; and he stepped forth Into the ice-cold stream to meet Cucullin. “Come not against me, Frae, bright son of Eedath,” Cucullin cried to him, “for thou wilt die Thereby, and it were grief with me to slay thee.” “Against thee I will go,” Frae said to him; “Here in this snow-cold stream we two will combat; And let thy fight with me be fair and noble.” “Whatever mode of fight seems best to thee,” Cucullin said, “that choose thou.” Frae replied: “The arm of each, then, round his fellow’s body Is what I choose.” They wrestled a long time, With powerful grips each round his fellow’s body, There in that water. Frae was then submerged. Cucullin raised him to the air and said With courtesy: “I raise thee up again, O Frae, bright son of Eedath. Own thou now That I have won; accept thou from me now This sparing of thy life.” Frae answered him: “I own it not; and I accept it not.” Cucullin put him under once again, Until Frae died of that. His form was brought Out from the water to the river’s brink, Drowned, without life; and his own people bore him Away, till they had reached the camp and hosting. Ath Frae, “the Ford of Frae,” then, is the name Which has been given for ever to that ford Wherein Frae died. The camp and hosting all Cried out with grief for Frae the son of Eedath. Findabair daughter of Maev and Al-yill Wept in still grief, seeing him drowned and pale, And thinking of that beauty which he had That day when in his sparkling bright array He had approached to woo, and of the beauty Which was upon him on that other day When she herself had swum the dark-pooled stream To succour and to aid him. Soon the hosts Perceived a band of women, robed in innars Of pure grass-green, come to that drowned, pale form Of Frae the son of Eedath; and these drew him With them away into the green Shee-mound, Where, with her sister Boyne, his mother Baefinn Dwelt ’midst the deathless Shee. Then, with his chariot, Fergus the son of Roy leapt the felled oak. The hosts moved on until they reached Ard Ahad. Cucullin there slew six, six Dungalls, namely, From Irrus Domnann in the far-off west. And the hosts moved until they reached Drum Saulinn. There was with Maev upon that hosting then A little much-loved whelp: its name was Bashny. Cucullin, going before them where they went, Launched from his sling, from his cranntowl, a stone, Which, striking to the mid-part of their camp Upon Drum Saulinn, struck from Maev’s whelp its head. That Maev took very grievously. She said: “Great is the mockery and shame to you, O men, that ye do not pursue and hunt That wild deer of misfortune, who each day Is slaying some of you!” Then many warriors Fell to pursuing him and hunting him, Until at hunting him they broke the poles And hind-shafts of their chariots. And the hosts In the meantime moved on and reached Drum Keen. Cucullin, near by, there, in the red morn, At milking-time, heard from a holly-forest The sounds of breaking boughs. “Alas! O Laeg,” Cucullin said to his good charioteer: “It is too bold a mode in the Ultonians, If it be they who thus hew down their forests In front of the Four Fifths of Erin. Therefore, Wait here awhile, good Laeg, while I go hence To see who cuts the forests.” Then Cucullin Went to that place whence he had heard the sounds Of breaking boughs, and found a gillie there. “Who art thou, gillie, and what dost thou here?” Cucullin said to him. The gillie answered: “I am the charioteer to Orlam son Of Al-yill and of Maev; and I am cutting New holly chariot-shafts, because our shafts Were shattered yesterday while we were hunting That famed wild deer, Cucullin; and, brave youth, By all the honour of thy bravery, Help me to finish, lest that famed Cucullin Should come upon me here.” “Thy choice, O gillie,” Cucullin said, “shall I cut down the poles For thee, or trim them?” “I myself will cut them,” The gillie said, “for it is easier.” Cucullin then began to trim the poles. He took one by its upper end and dragged it Betwixt his toes and then betwixt his fingers, Against its branches and excrescences, Till he had trimmed, and shaped, and smoothened it, And polished it, so that not even a fly Could stay on it; and then he laid it from him. And each rough pole he in that fashion trimmed. The gillie looked at him, and said: “I think This work which I have given thee to do Is not thy daily work. Who, in all Erin, Art thou, O youth?” Cucullin said to him: “I am that famed wild deer, even Cucullin, Of whom thou spak’st at morn, at milking-time.” “Woe on me then!” exclaimed the charioteer. “I die by that until the Breast of Doom.” “Fear not, O gillie,” said Cucullin. “Never Slay I good charioteers or messengers, Or folk unarmed. But tell me in what place Thy lord is, namely, Orlam.” “At yon grave-hill,” The gillie said. “Go to him,” said Cucullin. “Carry him warning. Tell him to have fear. If I shall reach him, he by me shall fall.” The charioteer thereat went towards his lord. He took the nearest way through the dense forest; But howe’er rapidly he went, Cucullin, Taking a longer way through the same forest, Arrived more rapidly. He cut the head From Orlam son of Al-yill and of Maev; And, from the grave-hill since called Tamlaht Orlam, He toward the hosts of Erin brandished it. The hosts moved on until they reached Ard Keenaht. And then it was that the three sons of Aurac Came to the river-ford by high Ard Keenaht Against Cucullin. These, then, were those sons: Mess-Linny and Mess-Leea and Mess-Lahan. And Loo-an and Oo-al and Milhy were the names Of their three chariot-drivers. For this cause They went against Cucullin: it to them Seemed overmuch of action and performance,— That which Cucullin had performed against them On those preceding days; namely, his slaying Those sons of Renc, two foster-sons of Al-yill’s, Beside Ath Gowla; and his overwhelming Of Frae the son of Eedath; and his slaying Of Orlam son of Al-yill and of Maev At Tamlaht Orlam; and his brandishing That head in full view of the hosts of Erin. They meant to slay Cucullin in return, And of themselves to lift that sore oppression From the great hosts of Erin. To the woods They went, and cut there three white hazel-rods, And gave these to their charioteers; and then They went, the six of them, against Cucullin, Six against one, breaking the faith of men. Cucullin at the ford by high Ard Keenaht Slew four of them; but Lahan broke in flight To northward. With his chariot-driver, Milhy, He reached the Nith in Connallia Mweerhevna; And there his chariot broke. Ath Carpat, therefore, “Ford of the Chariot,” has since been the name Upon that ford. And Lahan straightway turned To face Cucullin who had swiftly chased him. He met him on the second ford hard by. He fell there by Cucullin; and Ath Lahan, “The Ford of Lahan,” since has been the name Upon that ford on the green river Nith. Now, on the shoulder of hill between those fords— Ath Carpat and Ath Lahan in the Nith— Laeg son of Reeangowra, charioteer Of famed Cucullin, fought the charioteer Of Lahan, namely Milhy; and Laeg slew him: Whence, Goola Milhy, “Shoulder of Milhy,” since Has been the name on that low eminence In Connallia Mweerhevna ’twixt those fords, Ath Carpat and Ath Lahan in the Nith. And that was “Laeg’s One Combat on the Táin.” The hosts moved on and came to Edon More. This was the time when from the far north-west, From fair white-foaming Assaroe, the harpers Of Keenbili arrived, with will to gladden The hosts with harping and with magic music. Because of friendship unto Maev and Al-yill These came; but it appeared to Maev and Al-yill That they were spies from the Ultonians. Wherefore, The hosts gave chase to them, till at Leek More “The Great Flat Flag,” those harpers went from them In shapes of swift, wild stags; for they were men Of druidism and great art and knowledge. This was the time wherein Cucullin promised That in whatever place he should see Maev, He from his sling, from his cranntowl, would sling A stone at her, which would not be far off From one side of her head. That thing was done. He, seeing Maev, cast from his sling a stone, Which killed her little bird on her one shoulder West of the ford. Maev crossed the ford; and then, He, from his sling casting a second stone, Killed her pet squirrel, which was on her shoulder East of the ford. And “Maeda of the Bird,” And “Maeda of the Squirrel,” are the names Upon those places, even unto this hour. This was the time wherein the men of Erin Deliberated and took counsel, planning At dawn upon the morrow to begin Their ravaging and laying waste and spoiling Of Meath and wide Moy Bray and Moy Mweerhevna Up to Cucullin’s country. In the presence Of Fergus son of Roy they planned; and then To Fergus came his fervent memory And sharp affection for his fosterling; And he began to warn the men of Erin To have much fear; and he began to praise His fosterling, Cucullin, and to praise His gifts and deeds, as he before had praised them Beside Ath Gowla. Notwithstanding that, The hosts upon the morrow morn began Their ravaging and laying waste and spoiling Of all those lands. A cloud of red-brown fire, Heavy, wide-spread, they carried o’er those lands; And Maev made sword-land of Mweerhevna. Then, With all their captives and their herds of kine, Which they had taken, and their preys and spoils, They drew together, and moved on towards Cooley.

Cucullin, in the margin-land of Cooley, Upon a day, at midday, in a forest, Rested a little on his spear. His head Was on his fists: his fists were round his spear: His spear was on his knees. He rested so, And slept his sleep, until he heard a cry Coming right towards him from the north; and awful And fear-inspiring it sounded to him. Then he saw Laeg. “Whence was that cry, O Laeg?” Cucullin said to him. “From the north-west,” Laeg answered him, “upon the great highway Unto Kell Coo-an.” “We will after it,” Cucullin said. They went until they reached The Ford of the Two Magic Deeds; and there They heard the chariot-sound of chariot-wheels Sound from the side of Grellah Culgary. Ere long they saw one chariot before them; And one red steed beneath it; and one leg Beneath the steed; and the long chariot-pole Through the steed’s body, so that a thole-pin passed Through the pole’s end across his powerful forehead. A blood-red woman with two blood-red eyebrows Sat on that chariot; and her bratt and raiment Were all blood-red. Betwixt the two hind-shafts Her long, red bratt trailed o’er the earth behind her. Nigh to the chariot walked one big, large man Arrayed in red. He, with his hazel-fork, Was driving on one cow in front of them. “The cow rejoices not to be so driven,” Cucullin said. The woman answered him: “The cow pertains not to thee. She belongs To no near kinsman and no friend of thine.” “The cows of Ulster all pertain to me,” Cucullin said; “and why is it the woman Who answers me? Why is it not the man?” “He is no man,” the woman said to him. “He is Cold Wind, Reeds, Rushes.” “And thyself?” Cucullin said, “what is thy name?” She answered: “Keen-cutting Edge, Hair, Little Mouth, Hate, Horror.” “Ye mock at me,” Cucullin cried. With that He leapt on to the chariot. His two feet He placed on her two shoulders; and his dart He held above her crown. “Play not on me With thy edged weapons!” she cried out. “Then name Thy genuine name,” he said. “Depart from me,” She said, “I am a woman-satirist; And it was Dawra son of Feeacna In Cooley, who, in payment for a song, Bestowed on me this cow.” “Let us, then, hear Thy song,” Cucullin said. “Depart from me,” She said; “no more be trembling o’er me here.” Cucullin then went down; and she to him Sang a cheek-reddening, chafing, chiding song Composed in learnéd words. He understood; For he was trained and skilled in learnéd words; And, filled with ire, he made to leap again On to that chariot. Then he saw no chariot, No steed, no man, no cow, no blood-red woman With dragging, blood-red bratt; but saw, instead, That she, the woman with the blood-red bratt, Had now become one lonely carrion-bird, Red-mouthed and black, on a tree-branch near by. He comprehended then that he had seen That dread More-reega, daughter of Ernmas, queen Of heavy slaughters, who drinks up men’s blood, Who shrieks on high for pale-lipped carcasses, Dispensing her confusion, famine, battle, Betwixt the seas of Erin; and he said: “Had I but known that it was thou, O Queen, We had not parted so.” She answered him, Speaking in semblance of that carrion-bird: “E’en the small ill which thou hast done to me, Will cause thee ill, Cucullin. I had brought That cow, thou sawest, from a far Shee-mound To visit the Donn of Cooley: I was wending To that Shee-mound again. Because, Cucullin, Thou didst attempt to stay me on my way Thou shalt find ill. Thou shalt have cause to rue Thy deed to me; and thou shalt rue Maev’s Táin.” “How shall I rue this Táin?” Cucullin said. “For I thereby shall gain much fame and glory. I shall break mighty battles. I shall slay Their mighty men. I shall survive this Táin.” “How wilt thou gain thy glory on this Táin?” She said. “And how wilt thou survive this Táin? For when thou first shalt meet upon a ford A man commensurate with thyself in skill, I, in the shape of a lithe water-eel, Will wind around thy feet and cause thee there, Within that ford, unequal, death-sure combat.” “By all the gods by whom my people swear, I swear,” Cucullin said, “that I will bruise thee Against the grey rock-flags within that ford; And ne’er shalt thou obtain from me thy healing Till Doom, unless thou then shalt rise from me.” “I, in the shape of a starved, grey bitch-wolf, Will come,” she said, “and chase the startled kine Down towards that ford to overwhelm thee there.” “By all the gods by whom my people swear, I swear,” Cucullin said, “that I will aim A stone and break thy right eye, or thy left eye; And thou shalt ne’er obtain from me thy healing Till Doom, unless thou then shalt rise and flee.” “I, in the shape of a red, hornless heifer, Will come,” she said, “and guide one hundred heifers, Hornless and red, to trample through that ford Where thou wilt be; and thou shalt get thereby Unequal, death-sure fight. Thy head, Cucullin, Will be removed from thy curved throat that day.” “By all the gods by whom our Ulster swears, I swear,” Cucullin said, “that I will hurl A stone, and break on thee one hindward leg; And thou shalt ne’er obtain from me thy healing Till Doom, unless thou then shalt rise and flee.” After those words, the bitter-threatening bive Went from that place. Cucullin turned again Toward the same forest-watch whence he had come.

’Twas this same day that the great Donn of Cooley, Having around him fifty of his heifers, Came to the margin-land of Cooley. There He pawed and dug the earth in front of him. Then the More-reega, daughter of Ernmas, still In semblance of the flesh-consuming bive, The bitter-throated bird, flew till she lighted Upon the lofty boundary-marking stone In Tara of the land of Cooley. There She cried her words of warning and of pity Unto the Donn of Cooley; and she said, Addressing him: “O miserable one! O wretched Donn of Cooley! Hear my words. Have fear! The men of Erin come to hunt thee. Maev the daughter of Yohee Fayla comes To hunt thee, and to capture thee, and bind thee. Great her desire and her longing for thee! Have fear! Hear warning! Flee, O bull of Cooley!” The Donn of Cooley, then, with fifty heifers, To the black, hidden Corrie of Glen Gatt In Cooley, went into retreat and hiding.

Cucullin, in the salt and marshy flats Of Connallia Mweerhevna in those days Slew no one. On the low foot-hills of Cooley, In his own natural country, he awaited Those hosts of Erin. Then Maev told her people To make a shed of shelter. With their shields Over their heads they made a shed of shelter; So that Cucullin from the little knolls, And smooth and plain-topped hills, and rising hills, Might not achieve their shooting. And Cucullin Achieved no shooting of the men of Erin Along those fore-shores or around the knolls And hillocks of the margin-land of Cooley Upon that day. In Raeda Loha, then, In Cooley, the Four Fifths of Erin set Their rest: ’twas there they made their camp that night. That night Cucullin with his charioteer Moved on beyond Glass Crond, a rapid stream Of Cooley, his own natural country. There He called to the quick mountain-streams of Cooley. He said: “I supplicate the river-streams, That they for me may fight. I supplicate The torrents and the waters of my country. I call to my Glass Crond.” The men of Erin Moved on next day until they reached Glass Crond. They sought to pass it. Then that river rose And fought against them. And it swelled, and grew Into the tree-tops; and it spread, and swept One hundred of their battle-chariots down Its rapid-waved, wild inver; and it whelmed them In the deep-drowning sea. And none could cross That river on that day. Next day Maev said To her own people that some man should go To prove the river. At those words a man Of huge, tall bigness, one of Maev’s own people, Rose to achieve that. Oola was his name. Upon his back he put a flag of stone For firmness; then he went to prove the stream. Then the stream hurled him down and made him dead, Deprived of life, the stone being on his back. Maev told her folk to lift him forth again And dig his grave-mound and erect his flag. His grave-mound and his flag beside the way Nigh to Glass Crond are to be seen this hour. After that death the Four Great Fifths of Erin, Because they could not pass Glass Crond, went up, Coasting the stream, until they reached the place Where the stream issued from the mountain. Closely Cucullin on that journey followed them; And, from the other side of the same stream, With his cranntowl shooting at them, he slew One hundred fighting-men of them; and slew Amidst those fighting-men, both Raen and Roy, The two historians of the Táin. Arrived Beside the well whence the stream issued forth, The people wished to pass between the well And mountain, and descend the vale again. But Maev allowed that not; for it to her Seemed well to leave her track upon that mountain Till Doom, to be a shame and a reproach To the Ultonians. Therefore they camped there Three days and nights, and dug the ground before them, Digging a pass across that mountain-ridge To be a lasting shame and strong disgrace To the Ultonians. “Barna Tána Bo,” That is the name upon that mountain-pass Since then; because it was across the mountain That the hosts passed. They passed, and so came down To Findabair of Cooley. There the hosts Divided, and they set the land in fire And flame, and gathered what there were of women And boys and maids and kine in mountainous Cooley, Till they were gathered all at Findabair. Then Maev surveyed each prey and prize and spoil. “It is not well that ye have gone,” said Maev. “The Donn of Cooley is not with you here ’Midst your great spoil.” “He is not in the spoil,” All said. And then Maev’s cowherd, namely, Lohar, Was called to Maev. “Where is the bull?” said she, “Know’st thou, perchance?” “I fear to tell,” he answered. “E’en as we came nigh to this land of Cooley, He, with three twenties of his heifers round him, To the black hidden Corrie of Glen Gatt In Cooley went into retreat and hiding.” “Rise ye,” said Maev. “Between each two of you Carry a withe.” They did that (and from that That glen is called “Glen of the Withes,” Glen Gatt). They found the bull, and drove him forth with triumph Until he was in Findabair of Cooley. In which place, seeing Maev’s own cowherd there— Lohar, to wit—the bull repaired to him. He brought the entrails and the inward parts Of Lohar out on his high, lofty horns. With all his heifers he attacked that camp In Findabair till fifty fighting-men Had fallen and died. He went from them, then, straight Out of the camp and doon in Findabair; And not a man of all the men of Erin Knew whither he had gone. These things to them Seemed shame and taint, dishonour and disgrace. To the wild desert woods around Slieve Gullion It was that the great Donn of Cooley now Had gone from them to new retreat and hiding. The hosts moved on, driving their prey and spoil, Which they had taken. At Glen Taul that night They made their camp and fort. That glen is called Glen Taul, because of the abundant milk Yielded that night to all the hosts of Erin By the great flocks and herds which they had taken. The hosts next day moved on until they reached Glass Colpa, a swift mountain-stream of Cooley. Glass Colpa rose against them; and it swept One hundred of their battle-chariots down Its rapid-waved, wild torrent, till it lost them In the deep-drowning sea. They skirted Colpa Up to its spring, even to Bally Al-yone, And slept that night at Leessa Leek,—so called Because of the enclosures for their calves Which they constructed in that place that night. Next day the hosts moved on. As they moved on A thing occurred touching the sword of Fergus, Occurring as hereafter follows. Al-yill Early that day said to his charioteer, Namely, Faer-lōga: “Go from me, Faer-lōga! Discover Maev and Fergus. It with me Seems well to have some new memorial And index of their union and their friendship.” That charioteer rose forth. He found the queen, The daughter of Yohee Fayla, and great Fergus, Where that pair stayed behind in a fair brake The while the hosts moved on. The two heard not That spy beside them. Now, the sword of Fergus, His Calad-colg, his musical sword, which Leddy Had brought one time out from the magic Shee, And had bequeathed to Fergus—that curved sword, Which was a flaming candle, and whose voice Was sweeter than the sound of pipes of gold When played at evening in a royal house— Lay nigh him in that place wherein he lay Companioned by great Maev. Faer-lōga drew That sword from out its sheath, and left the sheath Empty and void not far from Fergus there. He went to Al-yill. “Is it so, indeed?” Said Al-yill. “It is so,” Faer-lōga said. “Here is the token.” “That is a good token,” Said Al-yill; and they smiled each at the other. “For her ’twas right,” said Al-yill. “’Tis for help On this her Táin that she hath done it. See Now that the wondrous sword be kept by thee Bright and well polished. Put it ’neath the seat Of my own chariot with a cloth of linen Folded about it there.” Fergus rose up Ere long, and made to don his sword again. “Alas!” said he. “What is thy grief?” asked Maev. “’Tis an ill deed that I have done to Al-yill,” He said; “and bide thou here while I go up Into yon wood; and wonder not at all, Though it be long till I come back.” Maev knew not That he had lost his sword. Fergus went up Amidst the trees, and took with him the sword Of his own charioteer. He made a sword Of wood amidst those trees, and thrust that sword Into his empty sheath. “We will go on Now to the hosts,” he said. And they went on To the great hosts of the Four Fifths of Erin. The hosts that day passed over swift Glass Gatlig. Glass Gatlig it was called because with gads And withes and ropes and cords they dragged their kine And brought their calves across it. After that, On steep Drumenna in the border-land ’Twixt Connallia and Cooley they that night Encamped. They made a very strong encampment. Fergus was called that night to play at feehill With Al-yill in his tent. He went; and Al-yill Laughed at him railingly. Fergus was wroth; But Al-yill said: “Be not wroth, then, O Fergus; For welcome is thy coming. Sit thou down. We will play feehill here and boo-an-bac.” Fergus sat down, then, in the royal tent; And the two played at feehill on a board Of bronze: of gold and silver were the men.

The hour the cloudy shades of night came down, Cucullin, from Slieve Fauhan very near The hosts of Erin, with his strong cranntowl Began to hurl his sling-stones at that camp On cragged Drumenna; and all night he hurled; So that before the light of rising-time Upon the morrow, he had slain one hundred Firm fighting-men from ’midst the men of Erin. And all the hosts at light of rising-time Were dulled and deadened by their apprehension And fear and dread and terror of Cucullin. Maev at that early dawning-hour then spake To Feeaha the son of Conall Carna Of Ulster, who was kinsman to Cucullin. She bade him go to seek Cucullin out, And offer terms. “What terms?” said Feeaha. “Not hard to tell,” said Maev; “indemnity For aught of his that we have spoiled or taken: A feast in Croohan for him never-ending: Wine and sweet mead there to be poured for him: And he to come into the warlike service Of Al-yill and myself; for I myself Am, in real power, the sovereign of all Erin; And so, to serve me would advantage him More than his serving of that minor lord Whose he now is.” (Now this, by the Ultonians, Has been accounted ever as the saying Most mirth-producing, droll, and laughable, That e’er was spoken on the Táin,—Maev’s making “A minor lord” of that renowned great ruler Over a Fifth, who was the best in Erin, Namely, of Conor son of Fahtna son Of Ross the Red-haired son of Rury More.) Feeaha went upon that embassy. Cucullin welcomed him; and Feeaha Related all Maev’s terms. Cucullin said: “I will not change the brother of my mother For e’er another sovereign. But let Maev And Fergus come to-morrow to Glen Fauhan, And meet me there in the red light of morning, And I will speak with Maev.” Then Feeaha Went with these words back to the men of Erin. So the next day in the red light of morning Fergus and Maev went down into Glen Fauhan To meet Cucullin. And across the glen Maev looked upon Cucullin; and her mind Tortured her greatly on that day, because No more than a fair, adolescent youth He seemed to her to be. “Is yonder one,” She said, “that wonderful, renowned Cucullin Of whom ye speak, O Fergus?” But on Fergus A silence had fallen. In his breast there grew His pain of sharp affection while he viewed, For the first time, the little tender lad, His fosterling, whom he had left in Avvin Many long years before, and who had come Now to his seventeen years. “Well, let Cucullin Be spoken to by thee,” Maev said. “Not so,” Fergus replied. “Let him be spoken to By thee thyself; for there is little distance Betwixt you here across the glen.” Maev then Spake to the lad herself. She said to him: “Thou young Cucullin son of Dectora, Featful swift hound of Cooley and Mweerhevna, I offer thee complete indemnity For aught of thine that we have spoiled or taken: A feast in Croohan for thee, never-ending, With wine and mead there to be poured for thee, If thou wilt come into the warlike service Of Al-yill and myself, and leave the service Of him whom now thou servest.” Thus said Maev. Over the glen Cucullin answered her: “O most proud Maev daughter of Yōhee Fayla, I will not change the brother of my mother For e’er another sovereign in all Erin. I will not stay from you my strong cranntowl, Unless ye will restore to me all women Whom ye have taken in this realm of Ulster. I will not stay my terrible cranntowl, Unless ye will restore to me, not only The kine of my own lands, but all the kine Which ye have taken in this realm of Ulster. For all the folk and all the kine of Ulster Pertain to me on this your great Invasion; And for them all I here keep watch and ward.” Maev at these words had anger. “This,” she said, “Were far too much to give for warding-off The attacks of a young, tender lad.” In anger, Then, on each side, they parted from each other, Leaving Glen Fauhan. Maev and Fergus went Back to their camp and to the hosts of Erin.