Buile Suibhne (The Frenzy of Suibhne)
The Adventures of Suibhne Geilt
One of the great pieces of Irish Myth that survived into the Christian era, though with a strong Christian gloss, the Shamanic roots are pure gold. It was not uncommon for the church in Ireland to use older materials, and to preserve old tales, and for this we can be thankful..Some of the phrasing is arcance, but worth the reading...
Author: [unknown]
Background
details and bibliographic information
Sources
Manuscript sources.
1. B IV I, p. 82a - 95b (A paper MS in the Royal Irish Academy: written
between 1671 and 1674 by Daniel O'Duigenan. The following text is
taken from this MS. In instances where other readings were preferred
this is shown in the footnotes.)
2. 23 K 44, p. 131- 180 (A paper MS in the Royal Irish Academy: written
in 1721 - 1722 by Tomaltach Mac Muirghiosa. It is not derived from B.
More important variants are given in the footnotes. Many stanzas
contained in B are not in K.)
3. Brussels 3410, fo. 59a - 61b (This MS is in the Royal Library,
Brussels, and was written by Michael O'Clery in 1629. It is a brief
summary of the version in B and K. The whole of the verse except for
three stanzas is omitted. The text is appended to the Irish digital
edition, G302018.)
Editions.
1. James G. O'Keeffe, Buile Shuibhne (The Frenzy of Suibhne). Being the
Adventures of Suibhne Geilt. A Middle-Irish Romance. Edited, with
Translation, Introduction, Notes and Glossary. 38 + 198 pp., 8vo,
London, Irish Texts Society, Vol XII. [from Stowe B. IV 1, fol. 82a
Br. Bibl. Roy. 3410, fol. 59a, with readings from a 23 K 44] Ériu
1,
1904, pp. 113-121.
Translations.
1. See under Editions.
2. Gerard Murphy (ed.), Early Irish Lyrics: eighth to twelfth century.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1956. [58 items; texts reconstructed and normalized
according to the editor's dating; Engl. transl., notes, glossary.] 45.
Súanach sin, a Éorann án (Suibne and Éorann),
118-123; 46. A bennáin,
a búiredáin (Suibne in the woods), 122-137; 47. Mór
múich i túsa
in-nocht (Suibne in the snow), 138-141.
Secondary literature.
1. Georges Dottin, Buile Shuibhne [Notice] In: Revue Celtique XXXIV
(1913) 326-30.
2. Kenneth H. Jackson, The motive of the treefold death in the story of
Suibhne. In: Féil-Sgríbhinn Eóin Mhic Néill,
1940, 535-550.
3. Nora K. Chadwick, Geilt. In Scottish Gaelic Studies 5 (1942) 106-153.
[History and function of the geilt in Irish (Buile Suibne, Cath
Almaine, etc.), Welsh and early Norse literature.]
4. Roland M. Smith, King Lear and the Merlin tradition. In Modern
Language Quarterly 7 (1946) 153-174.
5. J. Vendryes, [ad Buile Shuibhne Best 2nd, edition 1238) 1301] In:
Études Celtiques 4 (1941/48) (fasc.2, 1948) 320-322. (Notes critiques
sur des textes, no. 9.)
6. James Carney, 'Suibne Geilt' and 'The children of Lir'. In. Éigse
6
(1948/52) (pt.2, 1950) 83-110.
7. Kenneth H. Jackson, A further note on Suibhne Geilt and Merlin. In:
Éigse 7, (1953/55) (pt. 2, 1953) 112-116, 120 [add.]. Criticism
of
Carney in Éigse 6.
8. Ruth P. Lehmann, A study of the Buile Shuibhne. In: Études Celtiques
6
(1953/54) 289-311; 7 (1955/56) 115-38.
9. James Carney, The origin of Suibne Gelt. In: Studies in Irish
literature and history. Dublin: Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies,
1955, Appendix B, 385-393.
10.
Birgit Bene[scaron], Spuren von Schamanismus in der Sage Buile
Suibhne. In: Zeitschrift für Celtische Philologie 28 (1960/61)
309-334.
11.
Gearóid S. Mac Eoin, Gleann Bolcáin agus Gleann na nGealt.
In:
Béaloideas 30 (1962)[1964] 105-120.
12.
Brian Ó Cuív, in: Éigse 11 (1964/66) (pt.2, 1965)
155-56. [Review of
Mac Eoin in Béaloideas 30].
13.
David Greene & Frank O'Connor (eds. & trs.), Binne liom um na tonna.
In: A Golden treasury of Irish poetry, A.D. 600 to 1200. London:
Macmillan, 1967, 179-180.
14.
Donncha Ó Crualaoich, 'Eolchaire mo mhendatáin. Staidéar
ar scéal Meán
Ghaeilge. In: Irisleabhar Mhá Nuad 1970, 94-103.
15.
Vernam Hull: A note on Buile Shuibhne. In: Celtica 9 (1971) 214.
The edition used in the digital edition.
1.
Buile Shuibhne (The Frenzy of Suibhne) being The Adventures of Suibhne
Geilt. A Middle-Irish Romance. Edited with translation, intoduction,
Notes and Glossary by . J. G. O'Keeffe First edition. [One volume.
xxxviii + 198 pp. ix-xiii Summary, xiii-xv Mansuscripts, xv-xix Date
of Tale, xix-xxx The Battle of Magh Rath, xxx-xxxii Suibhne Geilt,
xxxii-xxxv Origin, xxxvi-xxxviii The Composition, 3-159 Text (even
pages) and translation (odd pages), 161-173 Notes, 174-178 Brussels
MS. 3410, 179-192 Glossary of the rarer words, 193 Index of First
Lines of Poems, 194 Index of Places and Tribes, 198 Index of Persons.]
David Nutt, 17 Grape St., New Oxford St. for the Irish Texts Society
London (1913) . Irish Texts Society (Comann na Sgríbheann Gaedhilge).
, No. XII [1910]
Created: Translated by J.
G. O'Keeffe.
There are a few untranslated
Irish words, either of uncertain
meaning/interpretation,
or technical terms.
List of Participants
* Suibhne
* Cailleach
an Mhuilinn, the mill-hag
* Finnsheng
ingen Fhíndealaigh, Finnsheng Daughter of Fíndealach
* Domhnall
* Congal
* Cléirech,
a cleric
* Fear Caille,
another madman
* Moling
* Mongán
* Eorann
* Énna
mac Bracáin
* Loingseachán
* Rónán
1
As to Suibhne, son of Colman
Cuar, king of Dal Araidhe, we have already
told how he went wandering
and flying out of battle. Here are set forth the
cause and occasion whereby
these symptoms and fits of frenzy and
flightiness came upon him
beyond all others, likewise what befell him
thereafter.
2
There was a certain noble,
distinguished holy patron in Ireland, even
Ronan Finn, son of Bearach,
son of Criodhan, son of Earclugh, son of
Ernainne, son of Urene,
son of Seachnusach, son of Colum Cuile, son of
Mureadhach, son of Laoghaire,
son of Niall; a man who fulfilled God's
command and bore the yoke
of piety, and endured, persecutions for the
Lord's sake. He was God's
own worthy servant, for it was his wont to
crucify his body for love
of God and to win a reward for his soul. A
sheltering shield against
evil attacks of the devil and against vices was
that gentle, friendly, active
man.
3
On one occasion he was marking
out a church named Cell Luinne in Dal
Araidhe. (At that time Suibhne,
son of Colman, of whom we have spoken, was
king of Dal Araidhe.) Now,
in the place where he was, Suibhne heard the
sound of Ronan's bell as
he was marking out the church, and he asked his
people what it was they
heard. ‘It is Ronan Finn, son of Bearach,’ said
they, ‘who is marking out
a church in your territory and land, and it is
the sound of his bell you
now hear.’
Suibhine was greatly angered
and enraged, and he set out with
the utmost haste to drive
the cleric from the church. His wife Eorann,
daughter of Conn of Ciannacht,
in order to hold him, seized the wing of the
fringed, crimson cloak which
was around him, so that the fibula of pure
white silver, neatly inlaid
with gold, which was on his cloak over his
breast, sprang through the
house. Therewith, leaving his cloak with the
queen, he set out stark-naked
in his swift career to expel the cleric from
the church, until he reached
the place where Ronan was.
4
He found the cleric at the
time glorifying the King of heaven and earth
by blithely chanting his
psalms with his lined, right-beautiful psalter in
front of him. Suibhne took
up the psalter and cast it into the depths of
the cold-water lake which
was near him, so that it was drowned therein.
Then he seized Ronan's hand
and dragged him out through the church after
him, nor did he let go the
cleric's hand until he heard a cry of alarm. It
was a serving-man of Congai
Claon, son of Scannlan, who uttered that cry;
he had come from Congal
himself to Suibhne in order that he (Suibhne) might
engage in battle at Magh
Rath. When the serving-man reached the place of
parley with Suibhne, he
related the news to him from beginning to end.
Suibhne then went with the
serving-man and left the c1eric sad and
sorrowful over the loss
of his psalter and the contempt and dishonour which
had been inflicted on him.
5
Thereafter, at the end of
a day and a night, an otter that was in the
lake came to Ronan with
the psalter, and neither line nor letter of it was
injured. Ronan gave thanks
to God for that miracle, and then cursed
Suibhne, saying: Be it my
will, together with the will of the mighty Lord,
that even as he came stark-naked
to expel me, may it be thus that he will
ever be, naked, wandering
and flying throughout the world; may it be death
from a spear-point that
will carry him off. My curse once more on Suibhne, and my blessing on
Eorann who strove to hold
him; and furthermore, I bequeath to the race of
Colman that destruction
and extinction may be their lot the day they shall
behold this psalter which
was cast into the water by Suibhne; and he
uttered this lay:
6
Ronan
1. Suibhne, son of Colman, has
outraged me, he has dragged me with him by the hand,
to leave Cell Luinne with him,
that I should be for a time absent from it.
2. He came to me in his swift course
on hearing my bell;
he brought with him vast, awful
wrath to drive me out, to banish me.
3. Loth was I to be banished here from
the place where I first settled
though loth was I, God has been
able to prevent it.
4. He let not my hand out of his until
lie heard the loud cry which said to
him: ‘Come to the battle, Domnall’
has reached famous Magh Rath.
5. Good has come to me therefrom,
not to him did I give thanks for it
when tidings of the battle came for
him to join the high prince.
6. From afar he approached the battle
whereby were deranged his sense and reason,
he will roam through Erin as a stark madman,
and it shall be by a spear-point he will die.
7. He seized my psalter in his hand,
he cast it into the full lake,
Christ brought it to me without a blemish,
so that no worse was the psalter.
8. A day and a night in the full lake,
nor was the speckled..white [book] the worse;
through the will of God's Son
an otter gave it to me again.
9. As for the psalter that he seized in his hand,
I bequeath to the race of Colman
that it will be bad for the race of fair Colman
the day they shall behold the psalter.
10. Stark-naked he has come here
to wring my heart, to chase me;
on that account God will cause
that Suibhne shall ever naked be.
11. Eorann, daughter of Conn of Ciannacht,
strove to hold him by his cloak;
my blessing on Eorann therefor,
and my curse on Suibhne.
7
Thereupon Ronan came to
Magh Rath to make peace between Domnall son of
Aodh, and Congal Claon son
of Scannlan, but he did not succeed. Howbeit,
the cleric used to be taken
each day as a guarantee between them that
nobody would be slain from
the time the fighting was stopped until it would
be again permitted. Suibhne,
however, used to violate cleric's guarantee of
protection inasmuch as every
peace and truce which Ronan would make Suibhne
would break, for he used
to slay a man before the hour fixed for combat
each day, and another each
evening when the combat ceased.
Then on the day fixed for
the great battle Suibhne came
to battle before the rest.
8
In this wise did he appear.
A filmy shirt of silk was next his white
skin, around him was a girdle
of royal satin, likewise the tunic which
Congal had given him the
day he slew Oilill Cedach, king of the Ui Faolain,
at Magh Rath; a crimson
tunic of one colour was it with a close, well-woven
border of beautiful, refined
gold set with rows of fair gems of carbuncle
from one end to the other
of the border, having in it silken loops over
beautiful, shining buttons
for fastening and opening it, with variegation
of pure white silver each
way and each path he would go; there was a
slender-threaded hard fringe
to that tunic. In his hands were two spears
very long and (shod) with
broad iron, a yellow-speckled; homy shield was on
his back, a gold-hilted
sword at his left side.
9
He marched on thus until
he encountered Ronan with eight psalmists of his
community sprinkling holy
water on the hosts, and they sprinkled it on
Suibhne as they did on the
others. Thinking it was to mock him that the
water was sprinkled on him,
he placed his finger on the string of the
riveted spear that was in
his hand, and hurling it at one of Ronan's
psalmists slew him with
that single cast. He made another cast with the
edged, sharp-angled dart
at the cleric himself, so that it pierced the bell
which was on his breast
and the shaft sprang off it up in the air,
whereupon the cleric said:
‘I pray the mighty Lord that high as went the
spear-shaft into the air
and among the clouds of Heaven may you go likewise
even as any bird, and may
the death which you have inflicted on my
foster-child be that which
will carry you off, to wit, death from a
spear-point; and my curse
on you, and my blessing on Eorann; (I invoke)
Uradhran and Telle on my
behalf against your seed and the descendants ofColman Cuar,’ and he said:
10
Colmáin
1. My curse on Suibhne!
Great is his guilt against me,
his smooth, vigorous
dart he thrust through my holy belly.
2. That bell which thou hast wounded
will send thee among branches,
so that thou shalt be one with the birds—
the bell of saints before saints.
3. Even as in an instant went
the spear-shaft on high,
mayst thou go, O Suibhne,
in madness, without respite!
4. Thou hast slain my foster-child,
thou hast reddened thy spear in him,
thou shalt have in return for it
that with a spear-point thou shalt die.
5. If there should oppose me
the progeny of Eoghan with stoutness
Uradhran and Telle will send them into decay.
6. Uradhran and Telle
have sent them into decay,
this is my wish for all time:
my curse with thee!
7. My blessing on Eorann!
Eorann fair without decay:
through suffering without stint
my curse on Suibhne!
11
Thereafter, when both battle-hosts
had met, the vast army on both sides
roared in the manner of
a herd of stags so that they raised on high three
mighty shouts. Now, when
Suibhne heard these great cries together with
their sounds and reverberations
in the clouds of Heaven and in the vault of
the firmament, he looked
up, whereupon turbulence (?), and darkness, and
fury, and giddiness, and
frenzy, and flight, unsteadiness, restlessness,
and unquiet filled him,
likewise disgust with every place in which he uséd
to be and desire for every
place which he had not reached. His fingers were
palsied, his feet trembled,
his heart beat quick, his senses were overcome,
his sight was distorted,
his weapons fell naked from his hands, so that
through Ronan's curse he
went, like any bird of the air, in madness and
imbecility.
12
Now, however, when he arrived
out of the battle, it was seldom that his
feet would touch the ground
because of the swiftness of his course, and
when he did touch it he
would not shake the dew from the top of the grass
for the lightness and the
nimbleness of his step. He halted not from that
headlong course until he
left neither plain, nor field, nor bare mountain,
nor bog, nor thicket, nor
marsh, nor hill, nor hollow, nor dense-sheltering
wood in Ireland that he
did not travel that day, until he reached Ros
Bearaigh, in Glenn Earcain,
where he went into the yew-tree that was in the
glen.
13
Domnall, son of Aedh, won
the battle that day, as we have already
narrated. Suibhne had a
kinsman in the battle, to wit, Aongus the Stout,
son of Ardgal, son of Macnia,
son of Ninnidh, of the tribes of Ui Ninnedha
of Dal Araidhe; he came
in flight with a number of his people out of the battle, and the
route he took was through
Glenn Earcain. Now he and his people were conversing
about Suibhne (saying) how
strange it was that they had not seen him alive
or dead after the battle-hosts
had met. Howbeit, they felt certain it was
because of Ronan's curse
that there were no tidings of his fate. Suibhne in
the yew-tree above them
heard what they spoke, and he said:
14
Suibhne
1. O warriors, come hither,
O men of Dal Araidhe,
you will find in the tree in which he is
the man whom you seek.
2. God has vouchsafed me here
life very bare, very narrow,
without music and without restful sleep,
without womenfolk, without a woman-tryst.
3. Here at Ros Bearaigh am I,
Ronan has put me under disgrace,
God has severed me from my form,
know me no more, O warriors.
15
When the men heard Suibhne
reciting the verses, they recognized him, and
urged him to trust them.
He said that he would never do so. Then, as they
were closing round the tree,
Suibhne rose out of it very lightly and nimbly
(and went) to Cell Riagain
in Tir Conaill where he perched on the old tree
of the church. It chanced
that it was at that tree Domnall, son of Aedh,
and his army were after
the battle, and when they saw the madman going into
the tree, a portion of the
army came and closed in all round it. Thereupon
they began describing aloud
the madman; one man would say that it was a
woman, another that it was
a man, until Domnall himself recognized him,
whereupon he said: ‘It is
Suibhne, king of Dal Araidhe,
whom Ronan cursed the day
the battle was fought.
Good in sooth is the man
who is there,’ said he, ‘and if he wished
for treasures and wealth
he would obtain them from us if only he would
trust us. Sad is it to me,’
said he, ‘that the remnant of Congal's people
are thus, for both good
and great were the ties that bound me to Congal
before undertaking the battle,
and good moreover was the counsel of Colum
Cille to that youth himself
when he went with Congal to ask an army from
the king of Alba against
me’; whereupon Domnall uttered the lay:
16
Domhnall
1. How is that, O slender Suibhne?
thou wert leader of many hosts;
the day the iniquitous battle was fought
at Magh Rath thou wert most comely.
2. Like crimson or like beautiful gold
was thy noble countenance after feasting,
like down or like shavings
was the faultless hair of thy head.
3. Like cold snow of a single night
was the aspect of thy body ever;
blue-hued was thine eye, like crystal,
like smooth, beautiful ice.
4. Delightful the shape of thy feet,
not powerful methinks was thy chieftainship;
thy fortunate weapons—they could draw blood—
were swift in wounding.
5. Colum Cille offered thee
Heaven and kingship, O splendid youth,
eagerly (?) thou hast come into the plain
from the chief prophet of Heaven and earth.
6. Said Colum Cille,
steadfast prophet of truth,
'as many of you as come over the strong flood
will not all return from Erin.'
7. I offered Congal Claon
when we were together
the blessing of all the men of Erin;
great was the mulct for one egg.
8. If thou wilt not accept that from me,
O fair Congal, son of Scannal,
what judgment then—deed of great moment—
wilt thou pass upon me?
Congal:
9. (These) will I accept from thee if thou deemest it well:
give me thy two sons,
thy hand from thee, likewise thy stately wife,
thy daughter and thy eye blue-starred.
Domnall:
10. Thou shalt not have but spear to spear,
I shall be evermore lying in wait for you,
this is our speech about the bondage;
take thou the full of my curse!
11. Thy body will be a feast for birds of prey,
ravens will be on thy heavy silence,
a fierce, black spear shall wound thee,
and thou shalt be laid on thy back, destitute.
12. My bane from land to land
art thou alone beyond each king,
yet I have befriended thee
since the day thy mother brought thee forth.
13. 'Tis there the battle
was fought—
at the stead in Magh Rath—
there was a drop on a gleaming sword;
so fell Congal Claon.
17
Now when Suibhne heard the
shout of the multitude and the tumult of the
great army, he ascended
from the tree towards the rain-clouds of the
firmament, over the summits
of every place and over the ridge-pole of every
land. For a long time thereafter
he was (faring) throughout Ireland,
visiting and searching in
hard, rocky clefts and in bushy J branches of
tall ivy-trees, in narrow
cavities of stones, from estuary to estuary, from
peak to peak, and from glen
to glen, till he reached ever-delightful Glen
Bolcain. It is there the
madmen of Ireland used to go when their year in
madness was complete, that
glen being ever a place of great delight for
madmen. For it is thus Glen
Bolcain is: it has four gaps to the wind,
likewise a wood very beautiful,
very pleasant, and clean-banked wells and
cool springs, and sandy,
clear-water streams, and green-topped watercress
and brooklime bent and long
on their surface. Many likewise are its
sorrels, its wood-sorrels,
its lus-bian and its biorragan, its berries, and
its wild garlic, its melle,
and its miodhbhun its black sloes and its brown
acorns. The madmen moreover
used to smite each other for the pick of
watercress of that glen
and for the choice of its couches.
18
Suibhne also remained for
a long time in that glen until he happened one
night to be on the top of
a tall ivy-clad hawthorn tree which was in the
glen. it was hard for him
to endure that bed, for at every twist and turn
he would give, a shower
of thorns off the hawthorn would stick in him, so
that they were piercing
and reiiding his side and wounding his skin.
Suibhne thereupon changed
from that bed to anotherplace,
where there was a dense
thicket of great briars with fine thorns and
a single protruding branch
of blackthorn growing alone up through the
thicket. Suibhne settled
on the top of that tree, but so slender was it
that it bowed and bent under
him, so that he fell heavily through the
thicket to the ground, and
there was not as much as an inch from his hole
to the crown of his head
that was not wounded and reddened. He then rose
up, strengthless and feeble,
and came out through the thicket, whereupon he
said: ‘My conscience!’ said
he, ‘it is hard to endure this life after a
pleasant one, and a year
to last night I have been leading this. life,’
whereupon he uttered the
lay:
19
Suibhne
1. A year to last night
have I been among the gloom of branches,
between flood and ebb,
without covering around me.
2. Without a pillow beneath my head,
among the fair children of men;
there is peril to us, O God,
without sword, without spear.
3. Without the company of women;
save brooklime of warrior-bands—
a pure fresh meal—
watercress is our desire.
4. Without a foray with a king,
I am alone in my home,
without glorious reavings,
without friends, without music.
5. Without sleep, alas!
let the truth be told,
without aid for a long time,
hard is my lot.
6. Without a house right full,
without the converse of generous men,
without the title of king,
without drink, without food.
7. Alas that I have been parted here
from my mighty, armed host,
a bitter madman in the glen,
bereft of sense and reason.
8. Without being on a kingly circuit,
but rushing along every path;
that is the great madness,
King of Heaven of saints.
9. Without accomplished musicians,
without the converse of women,
without bestowing treasures;
it has caused my death, O revered Christ.
10. Though I be as I am to-night,
there was a time
when my strength was not feeble
over a land that was not bad.
11. On splendid steeds,
in life without sorrow,
in my auspicious kingship
I was a good, great king.
12. After that, to be as I am
through selling Thee, O revered Christ!
a poor wretch am I, without power,
in the Glen of bright Bolcan.
13. The hawthorn that is not soft-topped
has subdued me, has pierced me;
the brown thorn-bush
has nigh caused my death.
14. The battle of Congal with fame,
to us it was doubly piteous;
on Tuesday was the rout;
more numerous were our dead than our living.
15. A-wandering in truth,
though I was noble and gentle,
I have been sad and wretched
a year to last night.
20
In that wise he remained
in Glen Bolcain until at a certain time he
raised himself up (into
the air) and went to Cluain Cille on the border of
Tir Conaill and Tir Boghaine.
He went then to the brink of the well where
he had for food that night
watercress and water. Thereafter he went into
the old tree of the church.
The erenach of the church was Faibhlen of the
family of Brughach, son
of Deaghadh. That night there came an exceeding
great storm so. that the
extent of the night's misery affected Suibhne
greatly, and he said: ‘Sad
indeed is it that I was not slain at Magh Rath
rather than that I should
encounter this hardship’; whereupon he uttered
this lay:
21
Suibhne
1. Cold is the snow to-night,
lasting now is my poverty,
there is no strength in me for fight,
famine has wounded me, madman as I am.
2. All men see that I am not shapely,
bare of thread is my tattered garment,
Suibhne of Ros Earcain is my name,
the crazy madman am I.
3. I rest not when night comes,
my foot frequents no trodden way,
I bide not here for long,
the bonds of terror come upon me.
4. My goal lies beyond the teeming main,
voyaging the prow-abounding sea;
fear has laid hold of my poor strength,
I am the crazy one of Glen Bolcain.
5. Frosty wind tearing me,
already snow has wounded me,
the storm bearing me to death
from the branches of each tree.
6. Grey branches have wounded me,
they have torn my hands;
the briars have not left
the making of a girdle for my feet.
7. There is a palsy on my hands,
everywhere there is cause of confusion,
from Sliabh Mis to Sliabh Cuillenn,
from Sliabh Cuillenn to Cuailgne.
8. Sad forever is my cry
on the summit of Cruachan Aighle,
from Gien Bolcain to Islay,
from Cenn Tire to Boirche.
9. Small is my portion when day comes,
it comes not as a new day's right (?),
a tuft of watercress of Cluain CiIle
with Cell Cua's cuckoo flower.
10. He who is at Ros Earcach,
neither trouble nor evil shall come to him;
that which makes me strengthless
is being in snow in nakedness.
22
So Suibhne fared forth until
he reached the church at Snamh dha En on
the Shannon, which is now
called Cluain Boirenn; he arrived there on a
Friday, to speak precisely.
The clerics of the church were then fulfilling
the office of nones; women
were beating flax, and one was giving birth to a
child. ‘It is not meet,
in sooth,’ said Suibhne, ‘for the women to violate
the Lord's fast-day; even
as the woman beats the flax,’ said he, ‘so were
my folk beaten in the battle
of Magh Rath.’ He heard then the vesper-bell
pealing, whereupon he said:‘Sweeter
indeed were it to me to hear the voices
of the cuckoos on the banks
of the Bann from every side than the grig-graig
of this bell which I hear
to- night’; and he uttered the lay:
23
Suibhne
1. Sweeter to me about the waves—
though my talons to-night are feeble—
than the grig-graig of the church-bell,
is the cooing of the cuckoo of the Bann.
2. O woman, do not bring forth thy son
on a Friday,
the day whereon Suibhne Geilt eats not
out of love for the King of righteousness.
2. As the women scutch the flax—
'tis true though 'tis I be heard—
even so were beaten my folk
in the battle of Magh Rath.
2. From Loch Diolair of the cliff
to Derry Coluim Cille
it was not strife that I heard
from splendid, melodious swans.
2. The belling of the stag of the desert above the cliffs
in Siodhmuine Glinne—
there is no music on earth
in my soul but its sweetness.
2. O Christ, O Christ, hear me!
O Christ, O Christ, without sin!
O Christ, O Christ, love me!
sever me not from thy sweetness!.
24
On the morrow Suibhne went
to Cell Derfile where he fared on watercress
of the well and the water
which was in the church; there came a great storm
in the night, and exceeding
sorrow and grief took hold of Suibhne because
of the wretchedness of his
life; and moreover it was a cause of grief and
sorrow to him to be absent
from Dal Araidhe, whereupon he uttered these
staves:
25
Suibhne
1. My night in Cell Derfile
'tis it has broken my heart;
sad for me, O Son of my God,
is parting from Dal Araidhe.
2. Ten hundred and ten warriors,
that was my host at Druim Fraoch,
though I am without strength, O Son of God,
'twas I who was their leader in counsel.
3. Gloomy is my night to-night
without serving-man, without camp;
not so was my night at Druim Damh,
I and Faolchu and Congal.
4. Alas! that I was detained for the tryst,
O my Prince of the glorious Kingdom!
though I should not get any harm therefrom
forever except this night.
26
For seven whole years Suibhne
wandered over Ireland from one point to
another until one night
he arrived at Glen Bolcain; for it is there stood
his fortress and his dwelling-place,
and more delightful was it to him to
tarry and abide there than
in any other place in Ireland; for thither would
he go from every part of
Ireland, nor would he leave it except through fear
and terror. Suibhne dwelt
there that night, and on the morrow morning
Loingseachan came seeking
him. Some say that Loingseachan was Suibhne's
mother's son, others that
he was a foster-brother, but, whichever he was,
his concern for Suibhne
was great, for he (Suibhne) went off three times in
madness and thrice he brought
him back. This time Longseachan was seeking
him in the glen, and he
found the track of his feet by the brink of the
stream of which he was wont
to eat the watercress. He found also the
branches that used to break
under his feet as he changed from the top of
onto another. That day,
however, he did not find the madman, so he went
into a deserted house in
the glen, and there he fell into deep sleep after
the great labour of thepursuit
of Suibhne whom he was seeking.
Then Suibhne came upon his
track so
that he reached the house,
and there he heard Loingseachan's snore;
whereupon he uttered this
lay:
27
Suibhne
1. The man by the wall snores,
slumber like that I dare not;
for seven years from the Tuesday at Magh Rath
I have not slept a wink.
2. O God of Heaven! would that I had not gone
to the fierce battle!
thereafter Suibhne Geilt was my name,
alone in the top of the ivy.
3. Watercress of the well of Druim Cirb
is my meal at terce;
on my face may be recognized its hue,
'tis true I am Suibhne Geilt.
4. For certain am I Suibhne Geilt,
one who sleeps under shelter of a rag,
about Sliabh Liag if ...
these men pursue me.
5. When I was Suibhne the sage,
I used to dwell in a lonely shieling,
on sedgy land, on a morass, on a mountain-side;
I have bartered my home for a far-off land.
6. I give thanks to the King above
with whom great harshness is not usual;
'tis the extent of my injustice
that has changed my guise.
7. Cold, cold for me is it
since my body lives not in the ivy-bushes,
much rain comes upon it
and much thunder.
8. Though I live from hill to hill
in the mountain above the yew glen;
in the place where Congal Claon was left
alas that I was not left there on my back!
9. Frequent is my groan,
far from my churchyard is my gaping house;
I am no champion but a needy madman,
God has thrust me in rags, without sense.
10. 'Tis great folly
for me to come out of Glen Bolcain,
there are many apple-trees in Glen Bolcain
for ... of my head.
11. Green watercress
and a draft of pure water,
I fare on them, I smile not,
not so the man by the wall.
12. In summer amid the herons of Cuailgne,
among packs of wolves when winter comes,
at other times under the crown of a wood;
not so the man by the wall.
13. Happy Glen Bolcain,
fronting the wind, around which madmen of the glen call,
woe is me! I sleep not there;
more wretched am I than the man by the wall.
14. Thereafter I sprang
up
into the air above;
in life I have never leaped
a single leap that was lighter.
15. Were it in the glorious morning,
on the Tuesday following the Monday,
none would be prouder than I am
by the side of a warrior of my folk.
16. A marvel to me is that which I see,
O Thou that hast shaped this day;
The woman's garment on the floor,
two piercing eyes of Loingseachan.
30
‘Sad is the disgrace you
would fain put upon me, Loingseachan,’ said he;
‘and do not continue annoying
me further, but go to your house and I will
go on to where Eorann is.’
31
Now, Eorann at the time
was dwelling with Guaire, son of Congal, son of
Scannlan, for it was Eorann
who was Suibhne's wife, for there were two
kinsmen in the country,
and they had equal title to the sovereignty which
Suibhne had abandoned, viz.:
Guaire, son of Congal, son of Scannlan, and
Eochaidh, son of Condlo,
son of Scannlan. Suibhne proceeded to the place in
which Eorann was. Guaire
had gone to the chase that day, and the route he
took was to the pass of
Sliabh Fuaid and by Sgirig Cinn Glinne and Ettan
Tairbh. His camp was beside
Glen Bolcain—which is called Glenn Chiach
to-day—in the plain of Cinel
Ainmirech. Then the madman sat down upon the
lintel of the hut in which
Eorann was, whereupon he said: ‘Do you remember,
lady, the great love we
gave to each other what time we were together? Easy
and pleasant it is for you
now,but not so for me;’ whereupon Suibhne said, and
Eorann answered him (asfollows):
32
Suibhne:
1. At ease art thou, bright Eorann,
at the bedside with thy lover;
not so with me here,
long have I been restless.
2. Once thou didst utter, O great Eorann,
a saying pleasing and light,
that thou wouldst not survive
parted one day from Suibhne.
3. To-day, it is readily manifest,
thou thinkest little of thy old friend;
warm for thee on the down of a pleasant bed,
cold for me abroad till morn.
Eorann:
4. Welcome to thee, thou guileless mad one!
thou art most welcome ofthe men of the earth;
though at ease am I, my body is wasted
since the day I heard of thy ruin.
Suibhne:
5. More welcome to thee is the king's son
who takes thee to feast without sorrow;
he is thy chosen wooer;
you seek not your old friend.
Eorann:
6. Though the king's son were to lead me
to blithe banqueting-halls,
I had liefer sleep in a tree's narrow hollow
beside thee, my husband, could I do so.
7. If my choice were given me
of the men of Erin and Alba,
I had liefer bide sinless with thee
on water and on watercress.
Suibhne:
8. No path for a beloved lady
is that of Suibhne here on the track of care;
cold are my beds at Ard Abhla,
my cold dwellings are not few.
9. More meet for thee to bestow love and affection
on the man with whom thou art alone
than on an uncouth and famished madman,
horrible, fearful, stark-naked.
Eorann:
10. O toiling madman, 'tis my grief
that thou art uncomely and dejected;
I sorrow that thy skin has lost its colour,
briars and thorns rending thee.
Suibhne:
11. I blame thee not for it,
thou gentle, radiant woman;
Christ, Son of Mary—great bondage—
He has caused my feebleness.
Eorann:
12. I would fain that we were together,
and that feathers might grow on our bodies;
in light and darkness I would wander
with thee each day and night.
Suibhne:
13. One night I was in pleasant Boirche,
I have reached lovely Tuath Inbhir,
I have wandered throughout Magh Fail,
I have happened on Celi Ui Suanaigh.
33
No sooner had he finished
than the army swarmed into the camp from every
quarter, whereupon he set
off in his headlong flight, as he had often done.
He halted not in his career
until before the fall of night he arrived at
Ros Bearaigh—the first church
at which he tarried after the battle of Magh
Rath—and he went into the
yew-tree which was in the church.
Muireadach mac Earca was
erenach of the church at the time, and his wife
happened to be going past
the yew when she saw the madman in it; she
recognized that it was Suibhne
was there and said to him: ‘Come out of the
yew, king of Dal Araidhe;
there is but one woman before you here.’ She said
so in order to seize the
madman, and to deceive and beguile him. ‘I will
not go indeed,’ said Suibhne,
‘lest Loingseachan and his wife come to me,
for there was a time when
it would have been easier for you to recognize me
than it is to-day’; whereupon
he uttered these staves:
34
Suibhne:
1. O woman, who dost recognize me
with the points of thy blue eyes,
there was a time when my aspect was better
in the assembly of Dal Araidhe.
2. I have changed in shape and hue
since the hour I came out of the battle;
I was the slender Suibhne
of whom the men of Erin had heard.
3. Bide thou with thy husband and in thy house,
I shall not tarry in Ros Bearaigh;
until holy Judgment we shall not foregather,
I and thou, O woman.
35
He emerged then from the
tree lightly and nimbly, and went on his way
until he reached the old
tree at Ros Earcain. (For he had three dwellings
in his own country in which
he was wont to reside, viz.: Teach mic
Ninnedha, Cluain Creamha,
and Ros Earcain). Thereafter for a fortnight and
a month he tarried in the
yew-tree without being perceived; but at length
his place and dwelling were
discovered, and the nobles of Dal Araidhe took
counsel as to who should
go to seize him. Everyone said that it was
Loingseachan who should
be sent.
Loingseachan undertook the
task, and he went along until he
came to the yew in which
Suibhne was, whereupon he beheld the madman on the
branch above him. ‘Sad is
it, Suibhne,’ said he, ‘that your last plight
should be thus, without
food, without drink, without raiment, like any bird
of the air, after having
been in garments of silk and satin on splendid
steeds from foreign lands
with matchless bridles; with you were women
gentle and comely, likewise
many youths and hounds and goodly folk of every
art; many hosts, many and
diverse nobles and chiefs, and young lords, and
landholders and hospitallers
were at your command. Many cups and goblets
and carved buffalo horns
for pleasant-flavoured and enjoyable liquors were
yours also. Sad is it for
you to be in that wise like unto any miserable
bird going from wilderness
to wilderness.’ ‘Cease now, Loingseachan,’ said
Suibhne; ‘that is what was
destined for us; but have you tidings for me of
my country?’ ‘I have in
sooth,’ said Loingseachan, ‘for your father is
dead.’ ‘That has seized
me ...’ said he. ‘Your mother is also dead,’ said
the young man. ‘Now all
pity for me is at an end,’ said he. ‘Dead is your
brother,’ said Loingseachan.
‘Gaping is my side on that account,’ said
Suibhne. ‘Dead is your daughter,’
said Loingseachan. ‘The heart's needle is
an only daughter,’ said
Suibhne. ‘Dead is your son who used to call you
‘daddy’,’ said Loingseachan.
‘True,’ said he, ‘that is the drop (?) which
brings a man to the ground;’
whereupon they, even Loingseachan and Suibhne,
uttered this lay between
them:
36
Loingseachan:
1. O Suibhne from lofty Sliabh na nEach,
thou of the rough blade wert given to wounding;
for Christ's sake, who hath put thee in bondage,
grant converse with thy foster-brother.
2. Hearken to me if thou hearest me,
O splendid king, O great prince,
so that I may relate gently
to thee tidings of thy good land.
3. There is life for none in thy land after thee;
it is to tell of it that I have come;
dead is thy renowned brother there,
dead thy father and thy mother.
Suibhne:
4. If my gentle mother be dead,
harder is it for me to go to my land;
'tis long since she has loved my body;
she has ceased to pity me.
5. Foolish the counsel of each wild youth
whose elders live not;
like unto a branch bowed under nuts;
whoso is brotherless has a gaping side.
Loingseachan:
6. There is another calamity there
which is bewailed by the men of Erin,
though uncouth be thy side and thy foot,
dead is thy fair wife of grief for thee.
Suibhne:
7. For a household to be without a wife
is rowing a rudderless boat,
'tis a garb of feathers to the skin,
'tis kindling a single fire.
Loingseachan:
8. I have heard a fearful and loud tale
around which was a clear, fierce wail,
'tis a fist round smoke, however,
thou art without sister, O Suibhne.
Suibhne:
9. A proverb this, bitter the ... -
it has no delight for me—
the mild sun rests on every ditch,
a sister loves though she be not loved.
Loingseachan:
10. Calves are not let to cows
amongst us in cold Araidhe
since thy gentle daughter, who has loved thee, died,
likewise thy sister's son.
Suibhne:
11. My sister's son and my hound,
they would not forsake me for wealth
'tis adding loss to sorrow;
the heart's needle is an only daughter.
Loingseachan:
12. There is another famous story—
loth am I to tell it—
meetly are the men of the Arada
bewailing thy only son.
Suibhne:
13. That is the renowned drop (?)
which brings a man to the ground,
that his little son who used to say ‘daddy’
should be without life.
14. It has called me to thee from the tree,
scarce have I caused enmity,
I cannot bear up against the blow
since I heard the tidings of my only son.
Loingseachan:
15. Since thou hast come, O splendid warrior,
within Loingseachan's hands,
all thy folk are alive,
O scion of Eochu Salbuidhe.
16. Be still, let thy sense come,
in the east is thy house, not in the west,
far from thy land thou hast come hither,
this is the truth, O Suibhne.
17. More delightful deemest thou to be amongst deer
in woods and forests
than sleeping in thy stronghold in the east
on a bed of down.
18. Better deemest thou to be on a holly-branch
beside the swift mill's pond
than to be in choice company
with young fellows about thee.
19. If thou wert to sleep in the bosom of hills
to the soft strings of lutes,
more sweet wouldst thou deem under the oak-wood
the belling of the brown stag of the herd.
20. Thou art fleeter than the wind across the valley,
thou art the famous madman of Erin,
brilliant in thy beauty, come hither,
O Suibhne, thou wast a noble champion.
37
When Suibhne heard tidings
of his only son, he fell from the yew,
where upon Loingseachan
closed his arms around him and put manacles on him.
He then told him that all
his people lived; and he took him to the place in
which the nobles of Dal
Araidhe were. They brought with them locks and
fettersto put on Suibhne,
and he was entrusted to Loingseachan to take him with
him for a fortnight and
a month. He took Suibhne away, and the nobles of
the province were coming
and going during that time; and at the end of it
his sense and memory came
to him, likewise his own shape and guise. They
took his bonds off him,
and his kingship was manifest. Harvest-time came
then, and one day Loingseachan
went with his people to reap. Suibhne was
put in Loingseachan's bed-room
after his bonds were taken off him, and his
sense had come back to him.
The bed-room was shut on him and nobody was
left with him but the mill-hag,
and she was enjoined not to attempt to
speak to him. Nevertheless
she spoke to him, asking him to tell some of his
adventures while he was
in a state of madness. ‘A curse on your mouth,
hag!’ said Suibhne; ‘ill
is what you say; God will not suffer me to go mad
again.’ ‘I know well,’ said
the hag, ‘that it was the outrage done to Ronan
that drove you to madness.’
‘O woman,’ said he, ‘it is hateful that you
should be betraying and
luring me.’ ‘It is not betrayal at all but truth,’;
and Suibhne said:
38
Suibhne:
1. O hag of yonder mill,
why shouldst thou set me astray?
is it not deceitful of thee that, through women,
I should be betrayed and lured?
The hag:
2. Tis not I who betrayed thee,
O Suibhne, though fair thy fame,
but the miracles of Ronan from Heaven
which drove thee to madness among madmen.
Suibhne:
3. Were it myself, and would it were I,
that were king of Dal Araidhe
it were a reason for a blow across a chin;
thou shalt not have a feast, O hag.
39
‘O hag,’ said he, ‘great
are the hardships I have encountered if you but
knew; many a dreadful leap
have I leaped from hill to hill, from fortress
to fortress, from land to
land, from valley to valley.’ ‘For God's sake,’
said the hag, ‘leap for
us now one of the leaps you used to leap when you
were mad.’ Thereupon he
bounded over the bed-rail so that he reached the
end of the bench. ‘My conscience!’
said the hag, ‘I could leap that
myself,’ and in the same
manner she did so. He took another leap out
through the skylight of
the hostel. ‘I could leap that too,’ said the hag,
and straightway she leaped.
This, however, is a summary of it: Suibhne
travelled through five cantreds
of Dal Araidhe that day until he arrived at
Glenn na nEachtach in Fiodh
Gaibhle, and she followed him all that time.
When Suibhne rested there
on the summit of a tall ivy-branch, the hag
rested on another tree beside
him. It was then the end of harvest-time
precisely. Thereupon Suibhne
heard a hunting-call of a multitude in the
verge of the wood. ‘This,’
said he, ‘is the cry of a great host, and they
are the Ui Faelain coming
to kill me to avenge Oilill Cedach, king of the
Ui Faelain, whom I slew
in the battle of Magh Rath.’ He heard the bellowing
of the stag, and he made
a lay wherein he eulogized aloud the trees of
Ireland, and, recalling
some of his own hardships and sorrows, he said:
40
1. O little stag, thou little bleating one;
O melodious little clamourer,
sweet to us is the music
thou makest in the glen.
2. Longing for my little home
has come on my senses—
the flocks in the plain,
the deer on the mountain.
3. Thou oak, bushy, leafy,
thou art high beyond trees;
O hazlet, little branching one,
O fragrance of hazel-nuts.
4. O alder, thou art not hostile,
delightful is thy hue,
thou art not rending and prickling
in the gap wherein thou art.
5. O little blackthorn, little thorny one;
O little black sloe-tree;
O watercress, little green-topped one,
from the brink of the ousel(?) spring.
6. O minen of the pathway,
thou art sweet beyond herbs,
O little green one, very green one,
O herb on which grows the strawberry.
7. O apple-tree, little apple-tree,
much art thou shaken;
O quicken, little berried one,
delightful is thy bloom.
8. O briar, little arched one,
thou grantest no fair terms,
thou ceasest not to tear me,
till thou hast thy fill of blood.
9. O yew-tree, little yew-tree,
in churchyards thou art conspicuous;
o ivy, little ivy,
thou art familiar in the dusky wood.
10. O holly, little sheltering one,
thou door against the wind;
o ash-tree, thou baleful one,
hand-weapon of a warrior.
11. O birch, smooth and blessed,
thou melodious, proud one,
delightful each entwining branch
in the top of thy crown.
12. The aspen a-trembling;
by turns I hear
its leaves a-racing—
meseems 'tis the foray!
13. My aversion in woods—
I conceal it not from anyone—
is the leafy stirk of an oak
swaying evermore.(?)
14. Ill-hap by which I outraged
the honour of Ronan Finn,
his miracles have troubled me,
his little bells from the church.
15. Ill-omened I found
the armour of upright Congai,
his sheltering, bright tunic
with selvages of gold.
16. It was a saying of each one
of the valiant, active host:
Let not escape from you through the narrow copse
the man of the goodly tunic.
17. Wound, kill, slaughter,
let all of you take advantage of him;
put him, though it is great guilt,
on spit and on spike.
18. The horsemen pursuing me
across round Magh Cobha,
no cast from them reaches
me through my back.
19. Going through the ivy-trees—
I conceal it not, O warrior—
like good cast of a spear
I went with the wind.
20. O little fawn, O little long-legged one,
I was able to catch thee
riding upon thee
from one peak to another.
21. From Carn Cornan of the contests
to the summit of Sliabh Niadh,
from the summit of Sliabh Uillinne
I reach Crota Cliach.
22. From Crota Cliach of assemblies
to Carn Liffi of Leinster,
I arrive before eventide
in bitter Benn Gulbain.
23. My night before the battle of Congal,
I deemed it fortunate,
before I restlessly
wandered over the mountain-peaks.
24. Glen Bolcain, my constant abode,
'twas a boon to me,
many a night have I attempted
a stern race against the peak.
25. If I were to wander alone
the mountains of the brown world,
better would I deem the site of a single hut
in the Glen of mighty Bolcan.
26. Good its water pure-green,
good its clean, fierce wind,
good its cress-green watercress,
best its tall brooklime.
27. Good its enduring ivy-trees,
good its bright, cheerful sallow,
good its yewy yews,
best its melodious birch.
28. If thou shouldst come, O Loingseachan,
to me in every guise,
each night to talk to me,
perchance I would not tarry for thee.
29. I would not have tarried to speak to thee
were it not for the tale which has wounded me—
father, mother, daughter, son,
brother, strong wife dead.
30. If thou shouldst come to speak to me,
no better would I deem it;
I would wander before morn
the mountains of Boirche of peaks.
31. By the mill of the little floury one(?)
thy folk has been ground,(?)
O wretched one, O weary one,
O swift Loingseachan.
32. O hag of this mill,
why dost thou take advantage of me?
I hear thee revile me
even when thou art out on the mountain.
33. O hag, O round-headed one,(?)
wilt thou go on a steed?
I would go, O fool-head(?)
if no one were to see me.
34. O Suibhne, if I go,
may my leap be successful.
If thou shouldst come, O hag,
mayst thou not dismount full of sense!(?)
35. In sooth, not just is what thou sayest,
thou son of Colman Cas;
is not my riding better without falling back?
36. Just, in sooth, is what I say,
O hag without sense;
a demon is ruining thee,
thou hast ruined thyself.
37. Dost thou not deem my arts better,
thou noble, slender madman,
that I should be following thee
from the tops of the mountains?
38. A proud ivy-bush
which grows through,a twisted tree—
if I were right on its summit,
I would fear to come out.
39. I flee before the skylarks—
'tis a stern, great race—
I leap over the stumps
on the tops of the mountains.
40. When the proud turtle-dove
rises for us, quickly do I
overtake it
since my feathers have grown.
41. The silly, foolish woodcock
when it rises for me methinks
'tis a bitter foe, the blackbird
(too) that gives the cry of alarm.
42. Every time I would bound
till I was on the ground
so that I might see the little fox
below a-gnawing the bones..
43. Beyond every wolf(?) among the ivy-trees
swiftly would he get the advantage of me,
so nimbly would I leap
till I was on the mountain-peak.
44. Little foxes yelping
to me and from me,
wolves at their rending,
I flee at their sound.
45. They have striven to reach me,
coming in their swift course,
so that I fled before them
to the tops of the mountains.
46. My transgression has come
against me whatsoever way I flee;
'tis manifest to me from the pity
shown me that I am a sheep without a fold.
47. The old tree of Cell Lughaidhe
wherein I sleep a sound sleep;
more delightful in the time of Congal
was the fair of plenteous Line.
48. There will come the starry frost
which will fall on every pool;
I am wretched, straying
exposed to it on the mountain-peak.
49. The herons a-calling
in chilly Glenn Aighle,
swift flocks of birds
coming and going.
50. I love not the merry prattle
that men and women make:
sweeter to me is the warbling
of the blackbird in the quarter in which it is.
51. I love not the trumpeting
I hear at early morn:
sweeter to me the squeal
of the badgers in Benna Broc.
52. I love not the horn-blowing
so boldly I hear:
sweeter to me the belling of a stag
of twice twenty peaks.
53. There is the material of a plough-team
from glen to glen:
each stag at rest
on the summit of the peaks.
54. Though many are my stags
from glen to glen,
not often is a ploughman's hand
closing round their horns(?).
55. The stag of lofty Sliabh Eibhlinne,
the stag of sharp Siiabh Fuaid,
the stag of Ealla, the stag of Orrery,
the fierce stag of Loch Lein.
56. The stag of Seimhne, Larne's stag,
the stag of Line of the mantles,
the stag of Cuailgne, the stag of Conachail,
the stag of Bairenn of two peaks.
57. O mother of this herd,
thy coat has become grey,
there is no stag after thee
without two score antler-points.
58. Greater than the material for a little cloak
thy head has turned grey;
if I were on each little point,
there would be a pointlet on every point.
59. Thou stag that comest lowing
to me across the glen,
pleasant is the place for seats on the top
of thy antler-points.
60. I am Suibhne, a poor suppliant,
swiftly do I race across the glen;
that is not my lawful name,
rather is it Fer benn.
61. The springs I found best:
the well of Leithead Lan,
the well most beautiful and cool,
the fountain of Dun Mail.
62. Though many are my wanderings,
my raiment to-day is scanty;
I myself keep my watch
on the top of the mountains.
63. O tall, russet fern,
thy mantle has been made red;
there is no bed for an outlaw
in the branches of thy crests.
64. At ever-angelic Tech Moling,
at puissant Toidhen in the south,
'tis there my eternal resting-place will be,
I shall fall by a [spear]-point.
65. The curse of Ronan Finn
has thrown me in thy company,
O little stag, little bleating one,
O melodious little clamourer.
41
After that lay Suibhne came
from Fiodh Gaibhle to Benn Boghaine, thence
to Benn Faibhne, thence
to Rath Murbuilg, but he found no refuge from the
hag until he reached Dun
Sobairce in Ulster. Suibhne leaped from the summit
of the fort sheer down in
front of the hag. She leaped quickly after him,
but dropped on the cliff
of Dun Sobairce, where she was broken to pieces,
and fell into the sea. In
that manner she found death in the wake of
Suibhne.
42
Thereafter Suibhne said:
‘Henceforth I shall not be in Dal Araidhe, for
Loingseachan, to avenge
his hag, would kill me if I were in his power.’
Suibhne then went to Ros
Comain in Connacht, and he alighted at the brink
of the well, where he fared
on watercress and water. A woman came from the
erenach's house to the well;
Forbhasach son of Fordhalach was the erenach.
Finnsheng daughter of Findealach
(?) was the name of the woman who came.
The madman fled from her
and she laid hold of the watercress which was in
the stream. Suibhne on the
tree in front of her was bemoaning greatly that
his portion of watercress
was taken away. Whereupon he said: ‘O woman,’
said he, ‘sad is it that
you shouid take my watercress from me, if you but
knew the plight in which
I am, for neither tribesman nor kinsman pities me,
nor do I visit as a guest
the house of anyone on the ridge of the world.
For kine I have my watercress,
my water is my mead, my trees hard and bare
or close-sheltering are
my friends. And even if you did not take away my
watercress,’ said he, ‘certain
is it that you would not be without
something else to-night
as I am after my watercress has been taken from
me’: and he made this lay:
43
1. O woman who pluckest the watercress
and takest the water,
thou wouldst not be without something to-night
even though thou didst not take my portion.
2. Alas, O woman!
thou wilt not go the way that I shall go;
I abroad in the tree-tops,
thou yonder in a friend's house.
3. Alas, O woman!
cold is the wind that has come to me;
nor mother nor son has pity on me,
no cloak is on my breast.
4. If thou but knewest, O woman,
how Suibhne here is:
he does not get friendship from anyone,
nor does anyone get his friendship.
5. I go not to a gathering
among warriors of my country,
no safeguard is granted me,
my thought is not on kingship.
6. I go not as a guest
to the house of any man's son in Erin,
more often am I straying madly
on the pointed mountain-peaks.
7. None cometh to make music to me
for a while before going to rest,
no pity do I get
from tribesman or kinsman.
8. When I was Suibhne indeed
and used to go on steeds—
when that comes to my memory
alas that I was detained in life!
9. I am Suibhne, noble leader (?),
cold and joyless is my abode,
though I be to-night on wild peaks,
O woman who pluckest my watercress.
10. My mead is my cold water,
my kine are my cresses,
my friends are my trees,
though I am without mantle or smock.
11. Cold is the night to-night,
though I am poor as regards watercress,
I have heard the cry of the wild-goose
over bare Imlech Iobhair.
12. I am without mantle or smock
the evil hour has long clung to me (?),
I flee at the cry of the heron
as though it were a blow that struck me.
13. I reach firm Dairbre
in the wondrous days of Spring,
and before night I flee
westward to Benn Boirche.
14. If thou art learned, O fair, crabbed one,
my field ...
there is one to whom the burden thou takest
is a grievous matter, O hag.
15. It is cold they are
at the brink of a clear, pebbly spring—
a bright quaff of pure water
and the watercress you pluck.
16. My meal is the watercress you pluck,
the meal of a noble, emaciated madman;
cold wind springs around my loins
from the peaks of each mountain.
17. Chilly is the wind of morn,
It comes between me and my smock,
I am unable to speak to thee,
O woman who pluckest the watercress.
1. The woman:
18. Leave my portion to the Lord,
be not harsh to me;
the more wilt thou attain supremacy,
and take a blessing, O Suibhne.
1. Suibhne:
19. Let us make a bargain just and fitting
though I am on the top of the yew;
take thou my smock and my tatters,
leave the little bunch of cress.
20. There is scarce one by whom I am beloved,
I have no house on earth;
since thou takest from me my watercress
my sins to be on thy soul!
21. Mayest thou not reach him whom thou hast loved,
the worse for him whom thou hast followed;
thou hast left one in poverty
because of the bunch thou hast plucked.
22. May a raid of the blue-coated Norsemen take thee!
Thine has not been a fortunate meeting for me,
mayest thou get from the Lord the blame
for cutting my portion of watercress.
23. O woman, if there should come to thee
Loingseachan whose delight is sport,
do thou give him on my behalf
half the watercress thou pluckest.
44
That night he remained in
Ros Comain and went thence on the morrow to
delightful Sliabh Aughty,
thence to smooth, beautiful Sliabh Mis, thence to
lofty-peaked Sliabh Bloom,
thence to Inis Murray. For a fortnight and a
month he tarried in the
cave of Donnan of Eig, and went thence to Carrick
Alastair where he took up
his abode and remained another fortnight and a
month. He left it afterwards
and bade it farewell, and, proclaiming aloud
his own woes, said:
45
1. Gloomy this life,
to be without a soft bed,
abode of cold frost,
roughness of wind-driven snow.
2. Cold, icy wind,
faint shadow of a feeble sun,
shelter of a single tree,
on the summit of a table-land.
3. Enduring the rain-storm,
stepping over deer-paths,(?)
faring through greensward
on a morn of grey frost.
4. The bellowing of the stags
throughout the wood,
the climb to the deer-pass,
the voice of white seas.
5. Yea, O great Lord,
great this weakness,
more grievous this black sorrow,
Suibhne the slender-groined.
6. Racing over many-hued gaps
of Boirche of hut couches,
the sough of the winter night,
footing it in hailstones.
7. Lying on a wet bed
on the slopes of Loch Erne,
mind on early departure,
morn of early rising.
8. Racing over the wave-tops
of Dun Sobairce,
ear to the billows
of Dun Rodairce.
9. Running from this great wave
to the wave of the rushing Barrow,
sleeping on a hard couch
of fair Dun Cermna.
10. From fair Dun Cermna
to flowery Benn Boirne,
ear against a stone pillow
of rough Cruachan Oighle.
11. Restless my wandering
in the plain of the Boroma,
from Benn Iughoine
to Benn Boghaine.
12. There has come to me
one who has laid hands on me,
she has brought no peace to me,
the woman who has dishonoured me.
13. She has taken my portion
on account of my sins,
wretched the work—
my watercress has been eaten.
14. Watercress I pluck,
food in a fair bunch,
four round handfuls
of fair Glen Bolcain.
15. A meal I seekmdash;
pleasant the bogberry,
a drink of water here
from the well of Ronan Finn.
16. Bent are my nails,
feeble my loins,
pierced my feet,
bare my thighs.
17. There will overtake me
a warrior-band stubbornly,
far from Ulster,
faring in Alba.
18. After this journeymdash;
sad is my secret songmdash;
to be in the hard company
of Carraig Alastair.
19. Carraig Alastair,
abode of sea-gulls,
sad, O Creator,
chilly for its guests.
20. Carraig Alastair,
bell-shaped rock,
sufficient were it half the height,
nose to the main.
21. Sad our meeting;
a couple of cranes hard-shanked—
I hard and ragged,
she hard-beaked.
22. Wet these beds
wherein is my dwelling,
little did I think
it was a rock of holiness.
23. Bad was it for Congal Claon
that he arrived at the battle;
like an outer yoke
he has earned a curse.
24. When I fled
from the battle of Magh Rath
before my undoing,
I deserved not harshness.
25.Sad this expedition;
would that I had not come!
far from my home
is the country I have reached.
26. Loingseachan
will come,
sad his journeys;
though he follow me,
it will not be easy.
27.Far-stretching woods
are the rampart of this circuit—
the land to which I have come—
not a deed of sadness.
28.The black lake of fortressed Boirche
greatly has it perturbed me;
the vastness of its depths,
the strength of its wave-crests.
29.Better found I
pleasant woods,
choice places of wooded Meath,
the vastness of Ossory.
30. Ulaidh in harvest-time
about quivering Loch Cuan,
a summer visit
to the race of enduring Eoghan.
31.A journey at Lammastide
to Taillten of fountains,
fishing in springtime
the meandering Shannon.
32.Often do
I reach
the land I have set in order,
curly-haired hosts,
stern ridges.
46
Suibhne then left Carraig
Alastair and went over the wide-mouthed,
storm-swept sea until he
reached the land of the Britons. He left the
fortress of the king of
the Britons on his right hand and came on a great
wood. As he passed along
the wood he heard lamenting and wailing, a great
moan of anguish and feeble
sighing. It was another madman who was wandering
through the wood. Suibhne
went up to him. ‘Who are you, my man?’ said
Suibhne. ‘I am a madman,’
said he. ‘If you are a madman,’ said Suibhne,
‘come hither so that we
may be friends, for I too am a madman.’ ‘I would,’
said the other, ‘were it
not for fear of the king's house or household
seizing me, and I do not
know that you are not one of them.’ ‘I am not
indeed,’ said Suibhne, ‘and
since I am not, tell me your family name.’ ‘Fer
Caille (Man of the Wood)
is my name,’ said the madman; whereupon Suibhne
uttered this stave and Fer
Caille answered him as follows:
47
Suibhne:
1. O Fer Cailli, what has befallen thee?
sad is thy voice;
tell me what has marred thee
in sense or form.
2 Fer Caille:
3. I would tell thee my story,
likewise my deeds,
were it not for fear of the proud host
of the king's household.
4. Ealadhan am I
who used to go to many combats,
I am known to all
as the leading madman of the glens.
5. Suibhne: Suibhne son of Colman am I
from the pleasant Bush;
the easier for us is converse
here, O man.
48
After that each confided
in the other and they asked tidings of each
other. Said Suibhne to the
madman: ‘Give an account of yourself.’ ‘I am son
of a landholder,’ said the
madman of Britain, ‘and I am a native of this
country in which we are,
and Ealladhan is my name.’ ‘Tell me,’ said
Suibhne, ‘what caused your
madness.’ ‘Not difficult to say. Once upon a
time two kings were contending
for the sovereignty of this country, viz.,
Eochaidh Aincheas, son of
Guaire Mathra, and Cugua, son of Guaire. Of the
people of Eochaidh am I,’
said he, ‘for he was the better of the two. There
was then convened a great
assembly to give battle to each other concerning
the country. I put geasa
on each one of my lord's people that none of them
should come to the battle
except they were clothed in silk, so that they
might be conspicuous beyond
all for pomp and pride. The hosts gave three
shouts of malediction on
me, which sent me wandering and fleeing as you
see.’
49
In the same way he asked
Suibhne what drove him to madness. ‘The words
of Ronan,’ said Suibhne,
‘for he cursed me in front of the battle of Magh
Rath, so that I rose on
high out of the battle, and I have been wandering
and fleeing ever since.’
‘O Suibhne,’ said Ealladhan, ‘let each of us keep
good watch over the other
since we have placed trust in each other; that
is, he who shall soonest
hear the cry of a heron from a blue-watered,
green-watered lough or the
clear
note of a cormorant, or
the flight of a woodcock from a branch, the whistle
or sound of a plover on
being woke from its sleep, or the sound of withered
branches being broken, or
shall see the shadow of a bird above the wood,
let him who shall first
hear warn and tell the other; let there be the
distance of two trees between
us; and if one of us should hear any of the
before-mentioned things
or anything resembling them, let us fly quickly
away thereafter.’
50
They do so, and they were
a whole year together. At the end of the year
Ealladhan said to Suibhne:
‘It is time that we part to-day, for the end of
my life has come, and I
must go to the place where it has been destined for
me to die.’ ‘What death
shall you die?’ said Suibhne. ‘Not difficult to
say,’ said Ealladhan; ‘I
go now to Eas Dubhthaigh, and a blast of wind will
get under me and cast me
into the waterfall so that I shall be drowned, and
I shall be buried afterwards
in a churchyard of a saint, and I shall obtain
Heaven; and that is the
end of my life. And, O Suibhne,’ said Ealladhan,
‘tell me what your own fate
will be.’ Suibhne then told him as the story
relates below. At that they
parted and the Briton set out for Eas
Dubhthaigh, and when he
reached the waterfall he was drowned in it.
51
Suibhne then came to Ireland
and at the close of day he arrived at Magh
Line in Ulster. When he
recognized the plain he said: ‘Good in sooth was he
with whom I sojourned on
the plain, even Congal Claon, son of Scannlan, and
good moreover was the plain
on which we were. One day Congal and I were
there and I said to him:
‘I would fain go to another master,’ because of
the meagre recompense I
received from him. Whereat, in order that I might
stay with him, he gave me
thrice fifty beautiful, foreign steeds together
with his own brown steed,
and thrice fifty gleaming, tusk-hilted swords,
fifty bondsmen, and fifty
bondsmaids, a tunic with gold and a splendid
girdle of chequered silk.’
Thereupon Suibhne recited this poem:
52
1. Magh Line I am to-night,
my bare breast knows it;
I know too the plain
wherein dwelt my mate Congal.
2. Once upon a time Congal Claon and I
were here in the plain together;
as we were going to plenteous Druim Lurgain,
we made converse for a while.
3. Said I to the king—
I am fain to depart
too little do I deem my recompense.
4. I got from him as a gift
thrice fifty bridled steeds,
thrice fifty strong swords,
fifty foreigners and fifty handmaidens.
5. I got from him the brown steed,
the best that sped over meadow and sward;
I got his golden tunic
and his girdle of chequered silk.
6. What plain is a match for Magh Line,
unless it be the plain that is in Meath,
or Magh Femin of many crosses,
or the plain that is in Airgeadros?
7. Or Magh Feadha, or Magh Luirg,
or Magh Aei with beauty of rank,
or Magh Life, or Magh Li,
or the plaini that is in Murthemne?
8. Of all that I
have ever seen
both north and south and west,
I have not yet beheld
the peer of this plain.
53
After that lay Suibhne came
on to Glen Bolcain, and he was wandering
through it when he encountered
a mad woman. He fled before her and yet he
divined that she was in
a state of madness, and he turned towards her. At
that she fled before him.
‘Alas, O God!’ said Suibhne, ‘wretched is this
life; here am I fleeing
from the crazy woman and she fleeing from me in the
midst of Glen Bolcain; dear
in sooth is that place’; whereupon he said:
54
1. Woe to him who bears enmity,
would that he had not been born or brought forth!
whether it be a woman or a man that bear it,
may the two not reach holy Heaven!
2. Seldom is there a league of three
without one of them murmuring;
blackthorns and briars have torn me
so that I am the murmurer.
3. A crazy woman fleeing from her man—
however, it is a strange tale—
a man without clothes, without shoes,
fleeing before the woman.
4. Our desire when the wild ducks come
at Samhuin, up to May-day,
in each brown wood without scarcity
to be in ivy-branches.
5. Water of bright
Glen Bolcain,
listening to its many birds;
its melodious, rushing streams,
its islands and its rivers.
6. Its sheltering holly and its hazels,
its leaves, its brambles, its acorns,
its delicious, fresh berries,
its nuts, its refreshing sloes.
7. The number of its packs of hounds in woods,
the bellowing of its stags,
its pure water without prohibition;
'tis not I that hated it.
55
Thereafter Suibhne went
to the place where Eorann was and stood at the
outer door of the house
wherein were the queen and her womenfolk, and then
he said: ‘At ease art thou,
Eorann, though ease is not for me.’ ‘True,’
said Eorann, ‘but come in,’
said she. ‘In sooth I will not,’ said Suibhne,
‘lest the army pen me in
the house.’ ‘Methinks,’ said the woman, ‘no better
is your reason from day
to day, and since you do not wish to stay with us,’
said she, ‘go away and do
not visit us at all, for we are ashamed that you
should be seen in that guise
by people who have seen you in your true
guise.’ ‘Wretched in sooth
is that,’ said Suibhne, ‘woe to him who trusts a
woman after these words.
For great was my kindness to the woman who
dismisses me thus, seeing
that on one day I gave her thrice fifty cows and
fifty steeds; and if it
were the day I slew Oilill Cedach, king of the Ui
Faolain, she would have
been glad to see me’; whereupon he said:
56
1. Woe to those who strike women's fancy,
however excellent their form,
since Suibhne Geilt
has got no sympathy from his first love.
2. And woe to him who trusts in women
whether by night or by day,
whatever be in their minds,
after the treachery of Eorann.
3. Good was my kindness to the woman—
without guile, without deceit—
she got from me thrice fifty cows
and fifty steeds in one day.
4. When I was in the conflict
I would not avoid an armed band;
where there was a fight or a tussle
I was a match for thirty.
5. Rightly did Congal ask
of us Ulster warriors:
which of you will repel in battle
Oilill Cedach the combative?
6. Wild and angry the man,
huge his shield and his spear,
he stilled for a time the host,
the matchless, huge man.
7. Said I at Congal's side—
it was not the response of a timid man—
I will ward off mighty Oilill,
though hard beyond aIl is it to encounter him.
8. Headless I left Oilill,
and right glad was I thereat;
by me also there fell
five sons of the king of Magh Mairge.
57
Thereupon Suibhne rose lightly,
stealthily, airily, from the point of
every height and from the
summit of one hill to another until he reached
Benn Boirche in the south.
In that place he rested saying: ‘This is a spot
for a madman, but yet no
place is it for corn or milk or food; it is an
uncomfortable, unquiet place,
nor has it shelter against storm or shower,
though it is a lofty, beautiful
place,’ whereupon he uttered these words:
58
1. Cold to-night is Benn Boirche,
'tis the abode of a blighted man;
no place is it for food or milk,
nor in storm and endless snow.
2. Cold is my bed at night
on the summit of Benn Boirche;
I am weak, no raiment covers me
on a sharp-branching holly-tree.
3. When cold has gripped me in the ice
I move sharply against it,
I give fire to the glinting wind
blowing over the plain of Laoghaire's Leinster.
4. Glen Bolcain of the clear spring,
it is my dwelling to abide in;
when Samhuin comes, when summer goes,
it is my dwelling where I abide.
5. Wheresoever I might wander west and east
throughout Glanamhrach's glens
the biting snowstorm is in my face,
for shelter of the chilly madman of Erin.
6. That is my beloved glen,
my land of foregathering,
my royal fortress that has fallen to my share,
my shelter against storm.
7. For my sustenance at night
I have all that my hands glean
in dark oak-woods
of herbs and plenteous fruit.
8. I love the precious bog-berries,
they are sweeter than ...
brooklime, sea-weed, they are my desire,
the lus bian and the watercress.
9. Apples, berries, beautiful hazel-nuts,
blackberries, acorns from the oak-tree,
raspberries, they are the due of generosity,
haws of the prickly-sharp hawthorn.
10. wood-sorrels, goodly wild garlic,
and clean-topped cress,
together they drive hunger from me,
mountain acorns, melle root.
11. I in a green land that is not a glen,
O Christ, may I never reach it!
it is not my due to be there;
but though I am cold, it also is cold.
59
On the morning of the morrow
Suibhne came on to Magh Femhin, thence he
fared to the limpid, green-streamed
Shannon, thence to lofty, beautiful
Aughty, thence to the smooth-green,
bright land of Maenmagh, thence to the
noble and delightful river
Suck, thence to the shores of spreading Lough
Ree. That night he made
his resting-place in the fork of Bile Tiobradain in
Crich Gaille in the east
of Connaught. That was one of his beloved places
in Ireland. Great sorrow
and misery came upon him, whereupon he said:
‘Great in sooth is the trouble
and anxiety I have suffered hitherto; cold
was my dwelling-place last
night on the summit of Benn Boirche, no less
cold is my dwelling-place
to-night in the fork of Bile Tiobradain.’
60
For it was snowing that
night and as fast as the snow fell it was
frozen, whereupon he said:
‘My conscience! Great is the suffering I have
endured from the time my
feathers have grown until to-night. I know,’ said
he, ‘that though I might
meet my death therefrom, it were better that I
should trust people than
suffer these woes forever.’ Thereupon he recited
the poem proclaiming aloud
his woes:
61
Suibhne
1. I am in great grief to-night,
the pure wind has pierced my body;
wounded are my feet, my cheek is wan,
O great God! it is my due.
2. Last night I was in Benn Boirche,
the rain of chilly Aughty beat on me;
to-night my limbs are racked
in the fork of a tree in pleasant Gaille.
3. I have borne many a fight without cowardice
since feathers have grown on my body;
each night and each day
more and more do I endure ill.
4. Frost and foul storm
have wrung my heart,
snow has beaten on me on Sliabh mic Sin;
to-night the wind has wounded me,
without the heather of happy Glen Bolcain.
5. Unsettled is my faring through each land,
it has befallen me that I am without sense or reason,
from Magh Line to Magh Li,
from Magh Li to the impetuous Liffey.
6. I pass over the wooded brow of Sliabh Fuaid,
in my flight I reach Rathmor,
across Magh Aoi, across bright Magh Luirg,
I reach the border of fair Cruachan.
7. From Sliabh Cua—no easy expedition—
I reach pleasant Glais Gaille;
from Glais Gaille, though a long step,
I arrive at sweet Sliabh Breagh to the east.
8. Wretched is the life of one homeless,
sad is the Iife, O fair Christ!
a meal of fresh, green-tufted watercress,
a drink of cold water from a clear stream.
9. Stumbling from withered tree-tops,
faring through furze—deed without falsehood—
shunning mankind, keeping company with wolves,
racing with the red stag over the field.
10. Sleeping of nights without covering in a wood
in the top of a thick, bushy tree,
without hearing voice or speech;
O Son of God, great is the misery!
11. Foolishly I race up a mountain-peak
alone, exhausted by dint of vigour;
I have parted from my faultless shape;
O Son of God, great is the misery!
62
‘Howbe it,’ said he, ‘even
if Domhnall son of Aodh were to slay me, I
will go to Dal Araidhe and
I will entrust myself to my own people, and if
the mill-hag had not invoked
Christ against me so that I might perform
leaps for her awhile, I
would not have gone again into madness.’
63
A gleam of reason came to
him then, and he set out towards his country
to entrust himself to his
people and abide with them. At that time it was
revealed to Ronan that Suibhne
had recovered his reason and that he was
going to his country to
abide among his folk; whereupon Ronan said: ‘I
entreat the noble, almighty
King that that persecutor may not be able to
approach the church to persecute
it again as he once did, and, until his
soul has parted from his
body, may there be no help or relief to him from
the vengeance which God
inflicted on him in revenge for the dishonour done
to His people, so that no
other like tyrant after him may inflict outrage
or dishonour on the Lord
or on His people.’
64
God heard Ronan's prayer,
for when Suibhne came to the centre of Sliabh
Fuaid he stopped still there,
and a strange apparition appeared to him at
midnight; even trunks, headless
and red, and heads without bodies, and five
bristling, rough-grey heads
without body or trunk among them, screaming and
leaping this way and that
about the road. When he came among them he heard
them talking to each other,
and this is what they were saying: ‘He is a
madman,’ said the first
head; ‘a madman of Ulster,’ said the second head;
‘follow him well,’ said
the third head; ‘may the pursuit be long,’ said the
fourth head; ‘until he reaches
the sea,’ said the fifth head. They rose forth together towards him.
He soared aloft in front
of them (passing) from thicket to thicket, and no matter how
vast was the glen before
him he would not touch it, but would leap from one
edge of it to another, and
from the summit of one hill to the summit of
another.
65
Great in sooth was the terror,
the crying and wailing, the screaming and
crying aloud, the din and
tumult of the heads after him as they were
clutching and eagerly pursuing
him. Such were the force and swiftness of
that pursuit that the heads
leaped on his calves, his houghs, his thighs,
his shoulders, and the nape
of his neck, so that the impact of head against
head, and the clashing of
all against the sides of trees and the heads of
rocks, against the surface
and the earth, seemed to him like the rush of a
wild torrent from the breast
of a high mountain; nor did they cease until
he escaped from them into
the filmy clouds of the sky.
66
Then they parted from him,
both goat-heads and dog-heads—for it seemed
to him that these were all
intermingled with the other heads pursuing him.
The wandering and flying
which he had ever before done were as nothing in
comparison with this, for
he would not rest long enough to take a drink to
the end of three fortnights
after that until he came one night to the
summit of Sliabh Eidhneach;
that night he rested there on the top of a tree
until morning. He then began
lamenting grievously; whereupon he said:
‘Wretched indeed is it with
me to-night after the hag and the heads on
Sliabh Fuaid, and yet it
is right that I should be as I am, because of the
many to whom I myself have
done harm’; whereupon he said:
67
1. Mournful am I to-night,
I am sad and wretched, my side is naked,
if folk but knew me
I have cause for lament.
2. Frost, ice, snow, and storm,
forever scourging me,
I without fire, without house,
on the summit of Sliabh Eidhneach.
3. I have a mansion and a good wife,
everyone would say that I was a prince;
'tis He who is Lord and King
has wrought my downfall.
4. Wherefore did God rescue me from the battle
that no one was found there to slay me,
rather than that I should go step by step
with the hag of the mill?
5. The hag of the mill at her house,
Christ's curse on her soul!
woe whosoever has trusted the hag!
woe to whom she has given his dog's portion!
6. Loingseachan was on my track
throughout every wilderness in Erin,
until he lured me from the tree
what time he related my son's death.
7. He carried me into the great house
wherein the host was feasting,
and bound me behind in the house (?)
face to face with my first love.
8. The people of the house without reproach
playing games and laughing;
I and my folk in the house
leaping and jumping.
9. Were it
not for the hag of the house,
I would not have gone again into madness;
she besought me by Christ of Heaven
to leap for her a little while.
10. I leaped a leap or two
for the sake of the Heavenly Father Himself;
the hag at her house said
that even so could she herself leap.
11. Once more I leaped out
over the top of the fortress;
swifter than smoke through a house
was the flight of the hag.
12. We wandered through all Erin,
from Teach Duinn to Traigh Ruire,
from Traigh Ruire to Benna Brain,
but the hag I did not elude.
13. Through plain and bog and hillside
I escaped not from the slattern
until she leaped with me the famous leap
to the summit of Dun Sobairce.
14. Thereafter I leaped down the dun,
nor did I step back,
I went out into the sea,
yonder I left the hag.
15. There came then to the strand
the devil's crew to meet her,
and they bore away her body;
woe to the land of Erin in which it was buried!
16. Once as I passed over Sliabh Fuaid
on a dark, black, gloomy night,
on the hill I beheld five heads,
having been cut off in one place.
17. Said one of them of a sudden—
harsh was the voice to me—
a madman of Ulster, follow him
so that you drive him before you to the sea.
18. I sped before them along the path
and I set not foot on ground;
both goat-head and dog-head
then began to curse.
19. 'Tis right that I should get harm;
many a night have I leaped a lake,
many eyes of fond women
have I made weep.
68 On a certain occasion
Suibhne happened to be in Luachair Deaghaidh on
his wild career of folly;
he went thence in his course of madness until he
reached Fiodh Gaibhle of
clear streams and beautiful branches. In that
place he remained a year
and during that year his food consisted of
blood-red, saffron holly-berries
and dark-brown acorns, and a drink of
water from the Gabhal, that
is, the river from which the wood is named. At
the end of that time deep
grief and heavy sorrow took hold of Suibhne there
because of the wretchedness
of his life; whereupon he uttered this little
poem:
69
1. 'I am Suibhne, alas!
my wretched body is utterly dead,
evermore without music, without sleep,
save the soughing of the rude gale.
2. I have come from Luachair Deaghaidh
to the border of Fiodh Gaibhle,
this is my fare—I hide it not—
ivy-berries, oak-mast.
3. A year have I been on the mountain
in this form in which I am,
without food going into my body
save crimson holly-berries.
4. The madman of Glen Bolcain am I,
I shall not hide my gnawing grief;
to-night my vigour has come to an end,
not to me is there no cause for grief.
70
One day it happened that
he went to Druim Iarainn in Connacht where he
ate green-topped watercress
of the church by the brink of the green-flecked
well and he drank some of
its water after. A cleric came out of the church
and he was indignant and
resentful towards the madman for eating the food
which he himself used to
eat, and he said that it was happy and contented
Suibhne was in the yew-tree
after taking his meal from himself. ‘Sad in
sooth is that (saying),
o cleric,’ said Suibhne, ‘for I am the most
discontented and unhappy
creature in the world, for neither rest nor
slumber cornes on my eyes
for fear of my being slain. That is natural,
because I would equally
go into madness at seeing the united hosts of the
universe threatening me
as at the flight of a single wren; and, O God of
Heaven! cleric,’ said Suibhne,
‘that you are not in my place and I in the
state of devotion in which
you are, so that your mind and understanding
might recognise that it
is not usual for the like of me or for my
counterpart to be happy
as you say’; whereupon the cleric recited the
beginning of the poem and
Suibhne responded (by reciting) the end, as
follows:
71
the Cleric:
1. Thou art at ease, madman,
on the top of the yew-branch
beside my little abode,
thou hast eaten my watercress.
Suibhne:
2. My life is not one of ease,
O cleric of Druim Iarainn,
such is my fear
that I do not close an eye.
3. If I were to see the men of the world
coming to me, O man ,of the bell,
I would flee from them as fast
as at the flight of a wren.
4. Alas! that thou art not in my place
and I a devout cleric,
so that thy mind might grasp
that it is not the accomplishment of a madman to be at
ease.
72
One day as Suibhne was wandering
aimlessly and restlessly through
Connacht he came at last
to All Fharannain in Tir Fhiachrach Mhuaide; a
delightful valley with a
beautiful green-streamed river dropping swiftly
down the cliff and a blessed
place there wherein was a synod of saints and
multitudes of righteous
folk. Numerous too on that cliff were the beautiful
trees, heavy and rich with
fruits numerous also the well-sheltered
ivy-trees and heavy-topped
apple-trees bending to the ground with the
weight of their fruit; wild
deer and hares and great, heavy swine were
there also, likewise many
fat seals that used to sleep on that cliff after
coming from the main beyond.
Suibhne greatly coveted that place and he
began praising and describing
it aloud; whereupon he uttered this lay:
73
1. Cliff of Farannan, abode of saints,
with many fair hazels and nuts,
swift cold water
rushing down its side.
2. Many green ivy-trees are there
and mast such as is prized,
and fair, heavy-topped apple-trees
bending their branches.
3. Many badgers going under its shelter
and fleet hares too,
and ... brows of seals
coming hither from the main.
4. I am Suibhne son of upright Colman,
many a frosty night have I been feeble;
Ronan of Druim Gess has outraged me,
I sleep 'neath a tree at yonder waterfall.
74
At length Suibhne came along
to the place where Moling was, even Teach
Moling. The psalter of Kevin
was at the time in front of Moling as he was
reading it to the students.
In the cleric's presence Suibhne then came to
the brink of the fountain
and began to eat watercress.‘O mad one, that is
eating early,’ Moling spoke
and Suibhne answered him:
75
Moling:
An early hour is it, thou
madman,
for due celebration.
Suibhne:
Though to thee, cleric,
it may seem early,
terce has come in Rome.
Moling:
How dost thou know, mad
one,
when terce comes in Rome?
Suibhne:
Knowledge comes to me from
my Lord
each morn and each eve.
Moling:
Relate through the mystery
of speech
tidings of the fair Lord.
Suibhne:
With thee is the (gift of)
prophecy
if thou art Moling.
Moling:
How dost thou know me,
thou toiling, cunning madman?
Suibhne:
Often have I been upon this
green
since my reason was overthrown.
Moling:
Why dost thou not settle
in one place,
thou son of Colman Cuar?
Suibhne:
I had rather be in one seat
in life everlasting.
Moling:
Miserable one, will thy
soul reach
hell with vastness of slime?
Suibhne:
God inflicts no pain on
me
save being without rest.
Moling:
Move hither that thou mayest
eat
what thou deemest sweet.
Suibhne:
If you but knew, cleric,
more grievous is it to be without a cloak.
Moling:
Thou shalt take my cowl
or thou shalt take my smock.
Suibhne:
Though to-day I am ghastly,
there was a time when it, was better.
Moling:
Art thou the dreaded Suibhne
who came from the battle of Rath?
Suibhne:
If I am, 'tis not to be
guaranteed
what I might eat at early morn'.
Moling:
Whence has come my recognition,
cunning madman, to thee?
Suibhne:
Often am I upon this green
watching thee from afar.
Moling:
Delightful is the leaf of
this book,
the psalter of holy Kevin.
Suibhne:
More delightful is a leaf
of my yew
in happy Glen Bolcain.
Moling:
Dost thou not deem this
churchyard pleasant
with its school of beautiful colours?
Suibhne:
Not more unpleasant was
my muster
the morning at Magh Rath.
Moling:
I will go for celebration
to Glais Cille Cro.
Suibhne:
I will leap a fresh ivy-bush
a high leap, and it will be a greater feat.
Moling:
Wearisome is it to me in
this church
waiting on the strong and weak.
Suibhne:More wearisome is my couch
in chilly Benn Faibhni.
Moling:
Where comes thy life's end,
in church or lake?
Suibhne:
A herd of thine
will slay me at early morn.
76
‘Welcome in sooth is your
coming here, Suibhne’, said Moling, ‘for it is
destined for you to be here
and to end your life here; to leave here your
history and adventures,
and to be buried in a churchyard of righteous folk;
and I bind you,’ said Moling,
‘that however much of Ireland you may travel
each day, you will come
to me each evening so that I may write your
history.’
77
Thereafter during that year
the madman was visiting Moling. One day he
would go to Innis Bo Finne
in west Connacht, another day to delightful Eas
Ruaidh, another day to smooth,
beautiful Sliabh Mis, another day to
ever-chilly Benn Boirche,
but go where he would each day, he would attend
at vespers each night at
Teach Moling. Moling ordered a collation for him
for that hour, for he told
his cook to give him some of each day's milking.
Muirghil was her name; she
was wife of Mongan, swineherd to Moling. This
was the extent of the meal
the woman used to give him: she used to thrust
her heel up to her ankle
in the cowdung nearest her and leave the full of
it of new milk there for
Suibhne. He used to come cautiously and carefully
into the vacant portion
of the milking yard to drink the milk.
78
One night a dispute arose
between Muirgil and another woman in the
milking enclosure, whereupon
the latter said: ‘the worse is it for you,’
said she, ‘that another
man is not more welcome to you, and yet that you do
not prefer your own husband
to come to you than the madman who is visiting
you for the past year.’
The herd's sister hearkened to that; nevertheless
she mentioned nothing about
it until she saw Muirgil on the morrow morning
going to leave the milk
for Suibhne in the cowdung near the hedge at which
he was. The herd's sister
seeing that, came in and said to her brother:
‘You cowardly creature,
your wife is in yonder hedge with another man,’
said she, The herd hearing
that became jealous, and he rose suddenly and
and and and angrily and
seized a spear that was within on a rack and made
for the madman. The madman's
side was towards him as he was lying down eating
his meal out of the cowdung.
The herd made a thrust of the spear out of his
hand at Suibhne and wounded
him in the nipple of his left breast, so that
the point went through him,
breaking his back in two. (Some say that it is
the point of a deer's horn
the herd had placed under him in the spot where
he used to take his drink
out of the cowdung, that he fell on it and so met
his death.)
79
Enna Mac Bracain was then
sounding the bell for prime at the door of the
churchyard and he saw the
deed that was done there; whereupon he uttered
the lay:
80
1. Sad is that, O swineherd of Moling,
thou hast wrought a wilful, sorry deed,
woe to him who has slain by dint of his strength
the king, the saint, the saintly madman.
2. Evil to thee will be the outcome therefrom—
going at last without repentance—
thy soul will be in the devils keeping,
thy body will be ...
3. In Heaven the same will be the place
for me and for him, O man,
psalms will be sung by fasting folk
for the soul of the true guest.
4. He was a king, he was a madman,
a man illustrious, noble, was he;
there is his grave—bright festival—
pity for him has rent my heart.
81
Enna turned back and told
Moling that Suibhne had been slain by his
swineherd Mongan. Moling
at once set out accompanied by his clerics to the
place where Suibhne was,
and Suibhne acknowledged his faults and (made) his
confession to Moling and
he partook of Christ's body and thanked God for
having received it, and
he was anointed afterwards by the clerics.
82
The herd came up to him.
‘Dour is the deed you have done, O herd,’ said
Suibhne,‘even to slay me,
guiltless, for henceforth I cannot escape through
the hedge because of the
wound you have dealt me.’ ‘If I had known that it
was you were there,’ said
the herd, ‘I would not have wounded you however
much you may have injured
me.’ ‘By Christ, man!’ said he, ‘I have done you
no injury whatever as you
think, nor injury to anyone else on the ridge of
the world since God sent
me to madness; and of small account should be the
harm to you through my being
in the hedge here and getting a little milk
for God's sake from yonder
woman. And I would not trust myself with your
wife nor with any other
woman for the earth and its fruits.’ ‘Christ's
curse on you, O herd!’ said
Moling. ‘Evil is the deed you have done, short
be your span of life here
and hell beyond, because of the deed you have
done.’ ‘There is no good
to me therefrom,’ said Suibhne, ‘for your wiles
have compassed me and I
shall be dead from the wound that has been dealt
me.’ ‘You will get an eric
for it,’ said Moling, ‘even that you be in
Heaven as long as I shall
be’; and the three uttered this lay between them,
that is, Suibhne, Mongan,
and Moling:
83
Suibhne:
Not pleasant is the deed
thou hast done,
O herd of Moling Luachair,
I cannot go through the hedge
for the wound thy black hand has dealt me.
Mongan:
Speak to me if thou hearest,
who art thou in truth, man?
Suibhne:
Suibhne Geilt without reproach
am I,
O herd of Moling Luachair.
Mongan:
If I but knew, O slender
Suibhne,
O man, if I could have recognised thee,
I would not have thrust a spear against thy skin
though I had seen thee harm me.
Suibhne:
East or west I have
not done
harm to one on the world's ridge
Since Christ has brought me from my valiant land
in madness throughout Erin.
Mongan:
The daughter of my father
and my mother
related—'twas no trifle to me—
how she found thee in yonder hedge
with my own wife at morn.
Suibhne:
It was not right of thee
to credit that
until thou hadst learnt its certainty,
alas that thou shouldst come hither to slay me
until thine eyes had seen!
Though I should be from hedge to hedge,
its harm were a trifle to thee,
though a woman should give me to drink
a little milk as alms.
Mongan:
If I but knew what comes
of it,
from wounding thee through breast and heart,
till Doom my hand would not wound thee,
O Suibhne of Glen Bolcain.
Suibhne:
Though thou hast wounded
me in the hedge,
I have not done thee ill;
I would not trust in thine own wife
for the earth and its fruits.
Alas for him who has come for a while from home
to thee, O Moling Luachair,
the wound thy herd has dealt me
stays me from wandering through the woods.
Moling:
The curse of Christ who
hath created everyone
on thee, said Moling to his herd,
sorry is the deed thou hast done
through envy in thine heart.
Since
thou hast done a dread deed,
said Moling to his herd,
thou wilt get in return for it
a short span of life and hell.
Suibhne:
Though thou mayest avenge
it, O Moling,
I shall be no more;
no relief for me is it,
your treachery has compassed me.
Moling:
Thou shalt get an eric for
it,
said Moling Luachair, I avow;
thou shalt be in Heaven as long as I shall be
by the will of the great Lord, O Suibhne.
Mongan:
It will be well with thee,
O slender Suibhne,
thou in Heaven, said the herd,
not so with me here,
without Heaven, without my lifes span.
Suibhne:
There was a time when I
deemed more melodious
than the quiet converse of people,
the cooing of the turtle-dove
flitting about a pool.
There was a
time when I deemed more melodious
than the sound of a little bell beside me
the warbling of the blackbird to the mountain
and the belling of the stag in a storm.
There was a time when I deemed more melodious
than the voice of a beautiful woman beside me,
to hear at dawn
the cry of the mountain-grouse.
There was a time when I
deemed more melodious
the yelping of the wolves
than the voice of a cleric within
a-baaing and a-bleating.
Though goodly you deem in taverns
your ale-feasts with honour,
I had liefer drink a quaff of water in theft
from the palm of my hand out of a well.
Though yonder in your church you deem melodious
the soft converse of your students,
more melodious to me is the splendid chant
of the hounds of Glen Bolcain.
Though goodly ye deem the salt meat and the flesh
that are eaten in banqueting-houses,
I had liefer eat a tuft of fresh watercress
in some place without sorrow.
The herds sharp spear has wounded me,
so that it has passed clean through my body;
alas, O Christ, who hast launched every judgment,
that I was not slain at Magh Rath!
Though goodly each bed without guile
I have made throughout Erin,
I had liefer a couch above the lake
in Benn Boirche, without concealment.
Though goodly each bed without guile
I have made throughout Erin,
I had liefer the couch above the wood
I have made in Glen Bolcain.
To Thee, O Christ, I give thanks
for partaking of Thy Body;
sincere repentance in this world
for each evil I have ever done.
84
A death-swoon came on Suibhne
then, and Moling, attended by his clerics,
rose, and each man placed
a stone on Suibhne's tomb. ‘Dear in sooth is he
whose tomb this is,’ said
Moling; ‘often were we two—happy time!—conversing
one with the other along
this pathway. Delightful to me was it to behold
Suibhne—he whose tomb this
is—at yonder well. The Madman's Well is its
name, for often would he
eat of its watercress and drink its water, and
(so) the well is named after
him. Dear, too, every other place that Suibhne
used to frequent’; whereupon
Moling said:
85
1. The tomb of Suibhne here!
remembrance of him has wrung my heart!
dear to me too, out of love for him,
each place in which the holy madman used to be.
2. Dear to me is fair Glen Bolcain
because of perfect Suibhne's love of it;
dear each stream that flows out of it,
dear its green-topped watercress.
3. Yonder is the Well of the Madman,
dear was he to whom it gave food,
dear to me its clear sand,
dear its pure water.
4. On me was imposed his preparation,
it seemed long until I should see him,
he asked that he be taken to my house,
dear was the lying in wait.
5. Dear each cool stream
wherein the green-topped watercress grew,
each well of bright water too,
because Suibhne used to visit it.
6. If it be the will of the King of the stars,
arise and come with me,
give me, O heart, thy hand
from the grave and from the tomb!
7. Melodious to me was the converse of Suibhne,
long shall I keep his memory in my breast:
I entreat my noble King of Heaven
above his grave and on his tomb!
86
Thereafter, Suibhne rose
out of his swoon and Moling taking him by the
hand the two proceeded to
the door of the church. When Suibhne placed his
shoulders against the door-post
he breathed a loud sigh and his spirit fled
to Heaven, and he was buried
honourably by Moling.
87
So far, some of the tales
and adventures of Suibhne son of Colman Cuar,
king of Dal Araidhe.
Finis.
