Ancient Irish Poetry Part 16
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Three disrespectful sisters: importunity, frivolity, flightiness.
Three signs of a bad man: bitterness, hatred, cowardice.
FROM THE INSTRUCTIONS OF KING CORMAC
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'what are the dues of a chief and of an ale-house?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac.
'Good behaviour around a good chief, Lights to lamps, Exerting oneself for the company, A proper settlement of seats, Liberality of dispensers, A nimble hand at distributing, Attentive service, Music in moderation, Short story-telling, A joyous countenance, Welcome to guests, Silence during recitals, Harmonious choruses.'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'what were your habits when you were a lad?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac.
'I was a listener in woods, I was a gazer at stars, I was blind where secrets were concerned, I was silent in a wilderness, I was talkative among many, I was mild in the mead-hall, I was stern in battle, I was gentle towards allies, I was a physician of the sick, I was weak towards the feeble, I was strong towards the powerful, I was not close lest I should be burdensome, I was not arrogant though I was wise, I was not given to promising though I was strong, I was not venturesome though I was swift, I did not deride the old though I was young, I was not boastful though I was a good fighter, I would not speak about any one in his absence, I would not reproach, but I would praise, I would not ask, but I would give,--
for it is through these habits that the young become old and kingly warriors.'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'what is the worst thing you have seen?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac. 'Faces of foes in the rout of battle.'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'what is the sweetest thing you have heard?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac.
'The shout of triumph after victory, Praise after wages, A lady's invitation to her pillow.'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'how do you distinguish women?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac. 'I distinguish them, but I make no difference among them.
'They are crabbed as constant companions, haughty when visited, lewd when neglected, silly counsellors, greedy of increase; they have tell-tale faces, they are quarrelsome in company, steadfast in hate, forgetful of love, anxious for alliance, accustomed to slander, stubborn in a quarrel, not to be trusted with a secret, ever intent on pilfering, boisterous in their jealousy, ever ready for an excuse, on the pursuit of folly, slanderers of worth, scamping their work, stiff when paying a visit, disdainful of good men, gloomy and stubborn, viragoes in strife, sorrowful in an ale-house, tearful during music, l.u.s.tful in bed, arrogant and disingenuous, abettors of strife, n.i.g.g.ardly with food, rejecting wisdom, eager to make appointments, sulky on a journey, troublesome bedfellows, deaf to instruction, blind to good advice, fatuous in society, craving for delicacies, chary in their presents, languid when solicited, exceeding all bounds in keeping others waiting, tedious talkers, close pract.i.tioners, dumb on useful matters, eloquent on trifles.
Happy he who does not yield to them!
They should be dreaded like fire, they should be feared like wild beasts.
Woe to him who humours them!
Better to beware of them than to trust them, better to trample upon them than to fondle them, better to crush them than to cherish them.
They are waves that drown you, they are fire that burns you, they are two-edged weapons that cut you, they are moths for tenacity, they are serpents for cunning, they are darkness in light, they are bad among the good, they are worse among the bad.'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'what is the worst for the body of man?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac. 'Sitting too long, lying too long, long standing, lifting heavy things, exerting oneself beyond one's strength, running too much, leaping too much, frequent falls, sleeping with one's leg over the bed-rail, gazing at glowing embers, wax, biestings, new ale, bull-flesh, curdles, dry food, bog-water, rising too early, cold, sun, hunger, drinking too much, eating too much, sleeping too much, sinning too much, grief, running up a height, shouting against the wind, drying oneself by a fire, summer-dew, winter-dew, beating ashes, swimming on a full stomach, sleeping on one's back, foolish romping.'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'what is the worst pleading and arguing?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac.
'Contending against knowledge, contending without proofs, taking refuge in bad language, a stiff delivery, a muttering speech, hair-splitting, uncertain proofs, despising books, turning against custom, s.h.i.+fting one's pleading, inciting the mob, blowing one's own trumpet, shouting at the top of one's voice.'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'who are the worst for whom you have a comparison?'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac.
'A man with the impudence of a satirist, with the pugnacity of a slave-woman, with the carelessness of a dog, with the conscience of a hound, with a robber's hand, with a bull's strength, with the dignity of a judge, with keen ingenious wisdom, with the speech of a stately man, with the memory of an historian, with the behaviour of an abbot, with the swearing of a horse-thief,
and he wise, lying, grey-haired, violent, swearing, garrulous, when he says "the matter is settled, I swear, you shall swear."'
'O Cormac, grandson of Conn,' said Carbery, 'I desire to know how I shall behave among the wise and the foolish, among friends and strangers, among the old and the young, among the innocent and the wicked.'
'Not hard to tell,' said Cormac.
'Be not too wise, nor too foolish, be not too conceited, nor too diffident, be not too haughty, nor too humble, be not too talkative, nor too silent, be not too hard, nor too feeble.
If you be too wise, one will expect too much of you; if you be too foolish, you will be deceived; if you be too conceited, you will be thought vexatious; if you be too humble, you will be without honour; if you be too talkative, you will not be heeded; if you be too silent, you will not be regarded; if you be too hard, you will be broken; if you be too feeble, you will be crushed.'
NOTES
'The Isles of the Happy' and 'The Sea-G.o.d's Address to Bran' are poems interspersed in the prose tale called 'The Voyage of Bran son of Febal to the Land of the Living.' For text and translation see my edition (London: D. Nutt, 1895), pp. 4 and 16. The tale was probably first written down early in the eighth, perhaps late in the seventh century.
'The Tryst after Death' (_Reicne Fothaid Canainne_) belongs to the ninth century. For the original text and translation see my 'Fianaigecht, a collection of hitherto inedited Irish poems and tales relating to Finn and his Fiana' (Dublin: Hodges, Figgis and Co., 1910), p. 10 ff.
'Deirdre's Farewell to Scotland' and 'Deirdre's Lament' are taken from the well-known tale called 'The Death of the Children of Usnech.' The text which is here rendered is that of the Middle-Irish version edited and translated by Whitley Stokes (_Irische Texte_, ii., Leipzig, 1884), pp.
127 and 145. My rendering follows in the main that of Stokes.
'The Hosts of Faery.'--From the tale called 'Laegaire mac Crimthainn's Visit to the Fairy Realm of Mag Mell,' the oldest copy of which is found in the Book of Leinster, a MS. of the twelfth century, p. 275 _b_. See S.H. O'Grady's _Silva Gadelica_ (Williams and Norgate, 1892), vol. i. p.
256; vol. ii. p. 290, where, however, the verse is not translated.
The two poems from the 'Vision of MacConglinne' are taken from my translation of the twelfth-century burlesque so called (D. Nutt, 1892), pp. 34 and 78.
'A Dirge for King Niall of the Nine Hostages.'--Text and translation in _Festschrift fur Whitley Stokes_ (Harra.s.sowitz, Leipzig, 1900), p. 1 ff., and in the _Gaelic Journal_, x.p. 578 ff. Late eighth or early ninth century.
'The Song of Carroll's Sword.'--Edited and translated in _Revue Celtique_, xx. p. 7 ff., and again in the _Gaelic Journal_, x.p. 613. Dallan mac More, to whom the poem is ascribed, was chief bard to King Carroll (Cerball) mac Muiregan of Leinster, who reigned from about A.D. 885 to 909.
'Eochaid's Lament.'--Text published in _Archiv fur celtische Lexikographie_ (Niemeyer, Halle a. S., 1907), vol. iii. p. 304.
'Lament on King Malachy II.'--_Ibid._, p. 305.
'King and Hermit.'--First published and translated by me under that t.i.tle with Messrs. D. Nutt, 1901. The language is that of the tenth century.
Ancient Irish Poetry Part 16
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