Part 20 (2/2)

And then for the first time the countenance of Cuchulain was changed, and he rose in his full might, as if the air had entered into him, till he towered as a terrible and wonderful giant, with the hero-light playing about his head; rising as a wild man of the sea; that great and valiant champion, till he overtopped Ferdia. And now so closely were they locked in the fight, that their heads met above them, and their feet below them; and in their middles met their arms over the rims and the bosses of their s.h.i.+elds. So closely were they locked in the fight, that they turned and bent, and s.h.i.+vered their spears from the points to the hafts; and cleft and loosened their s.h.i.+elds from the centres to the rims. So closely were they locked, that the Bocanachs, and the Bananachs, and the wild people of the glens, and the demons of the air screamed from the rims of their s.h.i.+elds, and from the hilts of their swords, and from the hafts of their spears. And so closely did they fight, that they cast the river from its bed and its course, so that there might have been a couch fit for a king and a queen to he in, there in the midst of the ford, for there was no drop of water left in it, except such as fell therein from off those two heroes and champions, as they trampled and hewed at each other in the midst of the ford. And so fierce was their fight, that the horses of the Gaels, in fear and in terror, rushed away wildly and madly, bursting their chains, and their yokes, and their tethers, and their traces; and the women, and the common folk, and the followers of the camp, fled south-westwards out of the camp.

All this time they fought with the edges of their swords. And then it was that Ferdia found Cuchulain for a moment off his guard, and he struck him with the straight edge of his sword, so that it sank into his body, till the blood streamed to his girdle, and the soil of the ford was crimson with the blood that fell from the body of that warrior so valiant in fight. And Cuchulain's endurance was at an end, for Ferdia continually struck at him, not attempting to guard, and his downright blows, and quick thrusts, and crus.h.i.+ng strokes fell constantly upon him, till Cuchulain demanded of Laeg the son of Riangabra to deliver to him the Gae-Bulg. Now the manner of using the Gae-Bulg was this: it was set with its end pointing down a stream, and was cast from beneath the toes of the foot: it made the wound of one spear on entering a person's body; but it had thirty barbs to open behind, and it could not be drawn out from a man's body until he was cut open. And when Ferdia heard mention of the Gae-Bulg, he made a stroke of his s.h.i.+eld downwards to guard the lower part of his body.

And Cuchulain thrust his unerring th.o.r.n.y spear off the centre of his palm over the rim of the s.h.i.+eld, and through his breast covered by h.o.r.n.y defensive plates of armour, so that its further half was visible behind him after piercing the heart in his chest. Ferdia gave an upward stroke of his s.h.i.+eld to guard the upper part of his body, though too late came that help, when the danger was past. And the servant set the Gae-Bulg down the stream, and Cuchulain caught it between the toes of his foot, and he threw it with an unerring cast against Ferdia, and it broke through the firm deep ap.r.o.n of wrought iron, and it burst the great stone that was as large as a millstone into three parts, and it pa.s.sed through the protection of his body into him, so that every crevice and cavity in him was filled with its barbs. ”'Tis enough now,” said Ferdia. ”I have my death of that; and I have but breath enough to say that thou hast done an ill deed against me. It was not right that thy hand should be that by which I should fall.” And thus did he cry, as he gasped out these words:

Hound, of feats so fair![FN#59]

Death from thee is ill: Thou the blame must bear, Thou my blood dost spill.

Help no wretch hath found Down this chasm of woe: Sick mine accents sound, As a ghost, I go.

Torn my ribs, and burst, Gore my heart hath filled: This of fights is worst, Hound! thou hast me killed.

[FN#59] The metre is that of the Irish.

And after those words, Cuchulain ran towards him, and with his arms and armour about him, carried him northwards across the ford, in order that the slain man might be on the north side of the ford, and not upon the western side together with the men of Erin. Then Cuchulain laid Ferdia down, and there it was that a trance and a faint and a weakness came upon Cuchulain when he saw the body of Ferdia, Laeg saw his weakness, and the men of Ireland all arose to come upon him. ”Rise up now, O Cuchulain!” said Laeg, ”for the men of Erin are coming towards us, and no single combat will they give to us, since Ferdia the son of Daman, the son of Dare, has fallen by thy hand.”

”How shall I be the better for arising, O my servant!” said he, ”now that he who lieth here hath fallen by me?” And it was in this manner that his servant spoke to him, and he recited these words, and thus did Cuchulain reply:

Laeg

Now arise, Battle-Hound of Emania!

It is joy and not grief should be sought; For the leader of armies, Ferdia, Thou hast slain, and hard battle hast fought.

Cuchulain

What availeth me triumph or boasting?

For, frantic with grief for my deed, I am driven to mourn for that body That my sword made so sorely to bleed.

Laeg

'Tis not thou shouldst lament for his dying, Rejoicing should spring to thy tongue; For in malice, sharp javelins, flying For thy wounding and bleeding he flung.

Cuchulain

I would mourn, if my leg he had severed, Had he hewn through this arm that remains, That he mounts not his steeds; and for ever In life, immortality gains.

Laeg

To the dames of Red Branch thou art giving More pleasure that thus he should fall: They will mourn for him dead, for thee living, Nor shall count of thy victims be small.

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