Now Ailill lay awake all that night, and he fell into a sleep at the
hour when he should have kept his tryst, and he woke not from his sleep
until the third hour of the day. And Etain went to her tryst, and she
saw a man before her; like was his form to the form of Ailill, he
lamented the weakness that his sickness had caused him, and he gave to
her such answers as it was fitting that Ailill should give. But at the
third hour of the day, Ailill himself awoke: and he had for a long time
remained in sorrow when Etain came into the house where he was; and as
she approached him, "What maketh thee so sorrowful?" said Etain. "'Tis
because thou wert sent to tryst with me," said Ailill, "and I came not
to thy presence, and sleep fell upon me, so that I have but now
awakened from it; and surely my chance of being healed hath now gone
from me." "Not so, indeed," answered Etain, "for there is a morrow to
follow to-day." And upon that night he took his watch with a great
fire before him, and with water beside him to put upon his eyes.
At the hour that was appointed for the tryst, Etain came for her
meeting with Ailill; and she saw the same man, like unto Ailill, whom
she had seen before; and Etain went to the house, and saw Ailill still
lamenting. And Etain came three times, and yet Ailill kept not his
tryst, and she found that same man there every time. "'Tis not for
thee," she said, "that I came to this tryst: why comest thou to meet
me? And as for him whom I would have met, it was for no sin or evil
desire that I came to meet him; but it was fitting for the wife of the
king of Ireland to rescue the man from the sickness under which he hath
so long been oppressed." "It were more fitting for thee to tryst with
me myself," said the man, "for when thou wert Etain of the Horses, the
daughter of Ailill, it was I who was thy husband. And when thou camest
to be wife to me, thou didst leave a great price behind thee; even a
marriage price of the chief plains and waters of Ireland, and as much
of gold and of silver as might match thee in value." "Why," said she,
"what is thy name?" "'Tis easy to say," he answered; "Mider of Bri
Leith is my name." "Truly," said she; "and what was the cause that
parted us?" "That also is easy," he said; "it was the sorcery of
Fuamnach, and the spells of Bressal Etarlam. And then Mider said to
Etain:
Wilt thou come to my home, fair-haired lady? to dwell
In the marvellous land of the musical spell,
Where the crowns of all heads are, as primroses, bright,
And from head to the heel all men's bodies snow-white.
In that land of no "mine" nor of "thine" is there speech,
But there teeth flashing white and dark eyebrows hath each;
In all eyes shine our hosts, as reflected they swarm,
And each cheek with the pink of the foxglove is warm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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