ve of a woman[a] did I take this in hand." "This then shall be thy lot,"
said she, "when I come against thee what time thou art contending with men:
In the shape of an eel I will come beneath thy feet in the ford; so shalt
thou fall." "More likely that, methinks, than daughter of a king! I will
seize thee," said he, "in the fork of my toes till thy ribs are broken, and
thou shalt remain in such sorry plight till there come my sentence of
blessing on thee." "In the shape of a grey she-wolf will I drive the cattle
on to the ford against thee." "I will cast a stone from my sling at thee,
so shall it smash thine eye in thy head" (said he), "and thou wilt so
remain maimed till my sentence of blessing come on thee." "I will attack
thee," said she, "in the shape of a hornless red heifer at the head of the
cattle, so that they will overwhelm thee on the waters and fords and pools
and thou wilt not see me before thee." "I will," replied he, "fling a stone
at thee that will break thy leg under thee, and thou wilt thus be lamed
till my sentence of blessing come on thee." Therewith she went from him.[2]

[1-1] LU. fo. 74a, in the margin.

[2-2] LU. and YBL. 1609-1629.

[a] Literally, '_non causa podicis feminae_.' The MS. is partly erased
here.

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[Page 163]

XV

[1]HERE FOLLOWETH THE COMBAT OF LOCH AND CUCHULAIN ON THE TAIN,[1]
[2]AND THE SLAYING OF LOCH SON OF MOFEMIS[2]

[3]Then it was debated by the men of Erin who would be fitted to fight and
contend with Cuchulain and ward him off from them on the ford at the
morning-hour early on the morrow. What they all agreed was that it should
be Loch Mor ('the Great') son of Mofemis, the royal champion of Munster.[3]
[W.2260.] It was then that Loch Mor son of Mofemis was summoned [4]like the
rest[4] to the pavilion of Ailill and Medb, [5]and he was promised the
equal of Mag Murthemni of the smooth field of Mag Ai, and the accoutrement
of twelve men, and a chariot of the value of seven bondmaids.[5] "What
would ye of me?" asked Loch. "To have fight with Cuchulain," replied
Medb. "I will not go on that errand, for I esteem it no honour nor becoming
to attack a tender, young, smooth-chinned, beardless boy. [6]'Tis not
seemly to speak thus to me, and ask it not of me.[6] And not to belittle
him do I say it, but I have [7]a doughty brother, [8]the match of
himself,"[8] said Loch,[7] "a man to confront him, Long macEmonis