"Nay, clearer my fame shall be ringing," the hero replied," for the Raid: All bards, who my deeds shall be singing, must tell of the stand that I made, Each warrior in fight shall be stricken, who dares with my valour to strive: Thou shalt see me, though battle-fields thicken, from the Tain Bo returning alive!" "How canst thou that strife be surviving?" the woman replied to his song, "For, when thou with a hero art striving, as fearful as thou, and as strong, Who like thee in his wars is victorious, who all of thy feats can perform, As brave, and as great, and as glorious, as tireless as thou in a storm, Then, in shape of an eel round thee coiling, thy feet at the Ford I will bind, And thou, in such contest when toiling, a battle unequal shalt find." "By my god now I swear, by the token that Ulstermen swear by," he cried; "On a green stone by me shall be broken that eel, to the Ford if it glide: From woe it shall ne'er be escaping, till it loose me, and pass on its way!" And she said: "As a wolf myself shaping, I will spring on thee, eager to slay, I will tear thee; the flesh shall be rended from thy chest by the wolf's savage bite, Till a strip be torn from thee, extended from the arm on thy left to thy right! With blows that my spear-shaft shall deal thee," he said, "I will force thee to fly Till thou quit me; my skill shall not heal thee, though bursts from thy head either eye!" I will come then," she cried, "as a heifer, white-skinned, but with ears that are red, At what time thou in fight shalt endeavour the blood of a hero to shed, Whose skill is full match for thy cunning; by the ford in a lake I will be, And a hundred white cows shall come running, with red ears, in like fashion to me: As the hooves of the cows on thee trample, thou shalt test 'truth of men in the fight': And the proof thou shalt have shall be ample, for from thee thy head they shall smite!" Said Cuchulain: "Aside from thee springing, a stone for a cast will I take, And that stone at thee furiously slinging, thy right or thy left leg will break: Till thou quit me, no help will I grant thee." Morreegan,[FN#115] the great Battle Queen, With her cow to Rath Croghan departed, and no more by Cuchulain was seen. For she went to her Under-World Country: Cuchulain returned to his place. The tale of the Great Raid of Cualgne this lay, as a prelude, may grace. [FN#115] Spelt Morrigan. THE APPARITION OF THE GREAT QUEEN TO CUCHULAIN LITERAL TRANSLATION