When the Roman Tacitus wrote about the Welsh and Irish he said, "Their language differs little." And even their buildings, C?sar said, were "almost similar." What was true of their speech and their buildings was more true of the gifts they have left in the Great Palace. They have the same delightful2 way of telling a story;[Pg 19] what they have to say naturally falls into conversations, and they are quick as a wink3 in the wit and fun and beauty and sadness of what they do say.
This little golden door and the wonderful room beyond it were, perhaps, longer in being built than the Welsh. These stories and poems of the Irish were composed at the time of C?sar and the Christian4 era. The epic5 cycle of Conchubar and Cuchulain is the first group of tales in Irish literature. They are made up of prose with occasional verses here and there. The Irish are very clever at invention, and these stories are among the most wonderful ever written or sung. Among the best of these stories is one we shall open a door to listen to—the story of Ferdiad and Cuchulain in "The Battle at the Ford6."
The dialogue in "The Battle at the Ford" shows us plainly how great the Irish dramatic gift has always been. They were born makers7 of plays. Just see how the Irish genius makes Ferdiad and Cuchulain talk, and how lifelike they are! The story is there, not much changed from what it was two thousand years ago, and shows all the Irish sense of form. By sense of form is meant simply the story's way of expressing itself. You see, a story or poem is like a human being. It has not only thoughts, but also a body to hold these thoughts. It is because of these two golden doors, over which are written the words, Welsh, Irish,[Pg 20] that English Literature is likely to produce most of the great plays which will be acted, and most of the great novels.
Every Christian and Jewish boy and girl knows the Bible story of David and Jonathan—that Jonathan who loved David as his soul, and David who loved Jonathan more than a brother can love. This friendship of a king's son with the son of a shepherd was very beautiful and tender and pure. "The Battle at the Ford" is not so gentle a story, but it is, nevertheless, and despite the treachery of the Queen and the sad end of Ferdiad, the David and Jonathan story of Irish Literature.
The men of Ireland settled it that Ferdiad and Cuchulain should fight the next day. But when they sent messengers to fetch Ferdiad he would not come, for he learned that they wanted him to fight against his friend Cuchulain.
Then Maeve, the Queen, sent the Druids after him, who by their hurtful poems about Ferdiad should raise three blisters8 on his face—the blisters of Shame, Blemish9, and Reproach.
So Ferdiad had to come to answer the Queen, Maeve. She offered him great riches if he would fight against his friend Cuchulain—speckled satins and silver and gold, with lands, horses, and bridles10.
But to Maeve Ferdiad replied, "If you offered[Pg 21] me land and sea I would not take them without the sun and moon."
For he loved his friend Cuchulain so that there was no wealth which could tempt11 Ferdiad to go out against him to wound him.
"But," said Maeve, "you shall have your fill of the jewels of the earth. Here is my brooch with its hooked pin and my daughter, Findabair."
"Nay," answered Ferdiad, "these things and all things like unto them shall remain yours, for there is nothing I would take to go into battle against my friend Cuchulain. Nothing shall come between him and me—he who is the half of my heart without fault, and I the half of his own heart. By my spear, were Cuchulain killed, I would be buried in his grave—the one grave for the two of us! Misfortune on you, Maeve, misfortune on you for trying to put your face between us!"
Then Maeve considered how she should stir him up and thus get her own ends.
Aloud she said to her people, "Is it a true word Cuchulain spoke12?"
"What word was that?" asked Ferdiad, sharply.
"He said," answered Maeve, "that there would be no wonder in it did you fall in the first trial of arms against him."
Then was Ferdiad angry. "That had Cuchulain no right to say! If it be true he said this thing, then will I fight with him to-morrow!"
[Pg 22]
At that Fergus left Ferdiad and Maeve, and went out in his chariot to tell Cuchulain what had happened.
"I give my word," exclaimed Cuchulain, "for my friend to come against me is not my wish!"
"Ferdiad's anger is stirred up," said Fergus, "and he has no fear of you."
"Be quiet," replied Cuchulain, "for I can stand against him anywhere!"
"It will go hard with you getting the better of him," answered Fergus, "for he has the strength of a hundred."
"My word and oath," said Cuchulain, "it is I who will be victorious13 over Ferdiad."
Then went Fergus joyfully14 back to the encampment. But Ferdiad, gloomy and heavy-hearted, slept only through the early part of the night. Toward the end of night he told his driver to harness his horses.
"Ferdiad," said the driver, "it would be better for you to stop here, for grief will come of that meeting with Cuchulain."
Yet the chariot was yoked16 and they went forward to the ford, and day and its full light came upon them there. Then Ferdiad slept while he waited for the coming of Cuchulain.
With the full light of day Cuchulain himself rose up, and said to his driver, "Laeg, yoke15 the chariot, for the man who comes to meet us to-day is an early riser."
[Pg 23]
"The horses are harnessed," answered Laeg.
With that Cuchulain leaped into the chariot, and about him shouted the people of the gods of Dana, and the witches and the fairies.
Then Ferdiad's driver heard them coming, the straining of the harness, the creaking of the chariot, the ringing of the armor and the shields, and the thunder of the horses' hoofs17.
"Good Ferdiad," said the driver, laying his hand upon his master, "rise up. Cuchulain comes, and he is coming not slowly, but quick as the wind or as water from a high cliff or like swift thunder."
And they saw Cuchulain coming, swooping18 down on them like a hawk19 from a cliff on a day of hard wind. Cuchulain drew up on the north side of the ford.
"I am happy at your coming," said Ferdiad.
"Till this day would I have been glad to hear that welcome," answered Cuchulain; "but now it is no longer the welcome of a friend."
Then each spoke unfriendly words and each began to boast.
"Before the setting of the sun to-night," said Ferdiad, "you will be fighting as with a mountain, and it is not white that battle will be."
"You are fallen into a gap of danger," answered Cuchulain, "and the end of your life has come."
"Leave off your boasting," shouted Ferdiad, "you heart of a bird in a cage, you giggling20 fellow."
[Pg 24]
But to this Cuchulain replied, "You were my heart companion, you were my people, you were my family—I never found one who was dearer."
"What is the use of this talk?" asked Ferdiad.
"Good Ferdiad," answered Cuchulain, "it is not right for you to come out against me through the meddling21 of Maeve. Do not break your oath not to fight with me. Do not break friendship. We were heart companions, comrades, and sharing one bed."
And Ferdiad answered: "Do not be remembering our companionship, for it will not protect you this day. It is I will give you your first wounds."
Then began they with their casting weapons—their round-handled spears and their little quill22 spears and their ivory-hilted knives and their ivory-hafted spears, and these weapons were flying to and fro like bees on the wing on a summer's day. Yet good as the throwing was, the defense23 was better, and neither hurt the other. There was no cast that did not hit the protecting shields, and by noon their weapons were all blunted against the faces and bosses of the shields.
So they left these weapons and took to their straight spears. And from the middle of midday till the fall of evening each threw spears at the other. But good as the defense was, in that time each wounded the other.
"Let us leave this, now," said Ferdiad.
Then each came to the other and put his hands[Pg 25] around the neck of the other and gave him three kisses. And that night one inclosure held their horses and at one fire sat their chariot-drivers. And of every healing herb that was put on Cuchulain's wounds Cuchulain sent an equal share westward24 across the ford for the wounds of Ferdiad. And of food and drink Ferdiad sent a fair share northward25 to Cuchulain and his men.
And in the morning they rose up and came to the ford of battle.
"What weapons shall we use to-day?" asked Cuchulain.
"To-day is your choice, for I made the choice yesterday," answered Ferdiad.
"Then let us take our great broad spears, for so by the end of evening shall we be nearer the end of the fight."
From the twilight26 of the early morning till the fall of evening each cut at and wounded the other, till, were it the custom of birds in their flight to pass through the bodies of men, they might have done so on this day.
"Let us stop from this, now," said Cuchulain, "for our horses and men are tired and down-hearted. Let us put the quarrel away for a while."
So they threw their spears into the hands of their chariot-drivers, and each put his hand around the neck of the other and gave him three kisses. And that night they slept on wounded[Pg 26] men's pillows their chariot-drivers had made for them. A full share of every charm and spell used to cure the wounds of Cuchulain was sent to Ferdiad. And of food Ferdiad sent a share.
Again early on the morrow they came to the ford of battle, and there was a dark look on Ferdiad that day.
"It is bad you are looking to-day," said Cuchulain.
"It is not from fear or dread27 of you I am looking this way," answered Ferdiad.
"No one has ever put food to his lips, Ferdiad, and no one has ever been born for whose sake I would have hurt you."
"Cuchulain," cried Ferdiad, "it was not you, but Maeve, who has betrayed us, and now my word and my name will be worth nothing if I go back without doing battle with you."
And that day they fought with their swords, and each hacked28 at the other from dawn till evening. When they threw their swords from them into the hands of their chariot-drivers, their parting that night was sad and down-hearted.
Early the next morning Ferdiad rose up and went by himself to the ford, and there clad himself in his shirt of striped silk with its border of speckled gold, over that a coat of brown leather, and on his head a crested29 helmet of battle. Taking his strong spear in his right hand and sword in his left, he began to show off very cunningly, [Pg 27]wonderful feats30 that were made up that day by himself against Cuchulain.
But when Cuchulain came to the ford, it was his turn to choose the weapons for the day. And they fought all the morning. By midday the anger of each was hot upon him, and Cuchulain leaped up onto the bosses of Ferdiad's shield, but Ferdiad tossed him from him like a bird on the brink31 of the ford, or as foam32 is thrown from a [Pg 28]wave. Then did Cuchulain leap with the quickness of the wind and the lightness of a swallow, and lit on the boss of Ferdiad's shield. But Ferdiad shook his shield and cast Cuchulain from him. Cuchulain's anger came on him like flame; and so close was the fight that their shields were broken and loosened, that their spears were bent33 from their points to their hilts; and so close was the fight that they drove the river from its bed, and that their horses broke away in fear and madness.
Then Ferdiad gave Cuchulain a stroke of the sword and hid it in his body. And Cuchulain took his spear, Gae Bulg, cast it at Ferdiad, and it passed through his body so that the point could be seen.
"O Cuchulain," cried Ferdiad, when Gae Bulg pierced him, "it was not right that I should fall by your hand! My end is come, my ribs34 will not hold my heart. I have not done well in the battle."
Then Cuchulain ran toward him and put his two arms about him, and laid him by the ford northward. And he began to keen and lament35: "What are joy and shouting to me now? It is to madness I am driven after the thing I have done. O Ferdiad, there will never be born among the men of Connaught who will do deeds equal to yours!
"O Ferdiad, you were betrayed to your death! You to die, I to be living. Our parting for ever[Pg 29] is a grief for ever! We gave our word that to the end of time we would not go against each other.
"Dear to me was your beautiful ruddiness, dear to me your comely36 form, dear to me your clear gray eye, dear your wisdom and your talk, and dear to me our friendship!
"It was not right you to fall by my hand; it was not a friendly ending. My grief! I loved the friend to whom I have given a drink of red blood. O Ferdiad, this thing will hang over me for ever! Yesterday you were strong as a mountain. And now there is nothing but a shadow!"
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1
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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2
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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3
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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4
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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5
epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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6
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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7
makers
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| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
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8
blisters
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| n.水疱( blister的名词复数 )；水肿；气泡 | |
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blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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10
bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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11
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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12
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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13
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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14
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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15
yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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16
yoked
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| 结合（yoke的过去式形式） | |
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17
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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18
swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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19
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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20
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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21
meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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22
quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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23
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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24
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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25
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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26
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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27
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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28
hacked
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| 生气 | |
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29
crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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30
feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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31
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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32
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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33
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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34
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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35
lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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36
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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