A man came slowly from the setting sun
To Forgail’s daughter Emer in her dun
And found her dyeing cloth with subtle care
And said casting aside his draggled hair:
“I am Aleel the swineherd whom you bid
Go dwell upon the sea cliffs vapour hid;
But now my years of watching are no more.”
Then Emer cast the web upon the floor
And stretching out her arms red with the dye
Parted her lips with a loud sudden cry.
Looking on her Aleel the swineherd said:
“Not any god alive nor mortal dead
Has slain so mighty armies so great kings
Nor won the gold that now Cuchulain brings.”
“Why do you tremble thus from feet to crown?”
Aleel the swineherd wept and cast him down
Upon the web-heaped floor and thus his word:
“With him is one sweet-throated like a bird.”
“Who bade you tell these things?” and then she cried
To those about “Beat him with thongs of hide
And drive him from the door.”
And thus it was:
And where her son Finmole on the smooth grass
Was driving cattle came she with swift feet
And called out to him “Son it is not meet
That you stay idling here with flocks and herds.”
“I have long waited mother for those words:
But wherefore now?”
“There is a man to die;
You have the heaviest arm under the sky.”
“My father dwells among the sea-worn bands
And breaks the ridge of battle with his hands.”
“Nay you are taller than Cuchulain son.”
“He is the mightiest man in ship or dun.”
“Nay he is old and sad with many wars
And weary of the crash of battle cars.”
“I only ask what way my journey lies
For God who made you bitter made you wise.”
“The Red Branch kings a tireless banquet keep
Where the sun falls into the Western deep.
Go there and dwell on the green forest rim;
But tell alone your name and house to him
Whose blade compels and bid them send you one
Who has a like vow from their triple dun.”
Between the lavish shelter of a wood
And the gray tide the Red Branch multitude
Feasted and with them old Cuchulain dwelt
And his young dear one close beside him knelt
And gazed upon the wisdom of his eyes
More mournful than the depth of starry skies
And pondered on the wonder of his days;
And all around the harp-string told his praise
And Concobar the Red Branch king of kings
With his own fingers touched the brazen strings.
At last Cuchulain spake “A young man strays
Driving the deer along the woody ways.
I often hear him singing to and fro
I often hear the sweet sound of his bow
Seek out what man he is.”
One went and came.
“He bade me let all know he gives his name
At the sword point and bade me bring him one
Who had a like vow from our triple dun.”
“I only of the Red Branch hosted now,”
Cuchulain cried, “have made and keep that vow.”
After short fighting in the leafy shade
He spake to the young man “Is there no maid
Who loves you no white arms to wrap you round
Or do you long for the dim sleepy ground
That you come here to meet this ancient sword?”
“The dooms of men are in God’s hidden hoard.”
“Your head a while seemed like a woman’s head
That I loved once.”
Again the fighting sped
But now the war rage in Cuchulain woke
And through the other’s shield his long blade broke
And pierced him.
“Speak before your breath is done.
I am Finmole, mighty Cuchulain’s son.”
“I put you from your pain. I can no more.”
While day its burden on to evening bore
With head bowed on his knees Cuchulain stayed;
Then Concobar sent that sweet-throated maid
And she to win him his gray hair caressed;
In vain her arms in vain her soft white breast.
Then Concobar the subtlest of all men
Ranking his Druids round him ten by ten
Spake thus “Cuchulain will dwell there and brood
For three days more in dreadful quietude
And then arise and raving slay us all.
Go cast on him delusions magical
That he might fight the waves of the loud sea.”
And ten by ten under a quicken tree
The Druids chaunted swaying in their hands
Tall wands of alder and white quicken wands.
In three days’ time Cuchulain with a moan
Stood up and came to the long sands alone:
For four days warred he with the bitter tide;
And the waves flowed above him and he died.