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sword will be red; Oh, woe! for to-morrow The hero lies dead. CHARIOTEER. Thy words are not gentle, Yet rest where thou art, 'Twill be dreadful to meet, And distressful to part. The champion of Ulster! Oh! think what a foe! In that meeting there's grief, In that journey there's woe! FERDIAH. Thy counsel is craven, Thy caution I slight, No brave-hearted champion Should shrink from the fight. The blood I inherit Doth prompt me to do-- Let us go to the challenge, To the Ford let us go! Then were the horses of Ferdiah yoked Unto the chariot, and he rode full speed Unto the Ford of battle, and the day Began to break, and all the east grew red. Beside the Ford he halted. "Good, my friend," He said unto his servant, "Spread for me The skins and cushions of my chariot here Beneath me, that I may a full deep sleep Enjoy before the hour of fight arrives; For in the latter portion of the night I slept not, thinking of the fight to come." Unharnessed were the horses, and the boy Spread out the cushions and the chariot's skins, And heavy sleep fell on Ferdiah's lids. Now of Cuchullin will I speak. He rose Not until day with all its light had come, In order that the men of Erin ne'er Should say of him that it was fear or dread That made him from a restless couch arise. When in the fulness of its light at length Shone forth the day, he bade his charioteer Harness his horses and his chariot yoke. "Harness my horses, good, my servant," said Cuchullin, "and my chariot yoke for me, For lo! an early-rising champion comes To meet us here beside the Ford to-day-- Ferdiah, son of Daman, Dare's son." "My lord, the steeds are ready to thy hand; Thy chariot stands here yoked, do thou step in; The noble car will not disgrace its lord." Into the chariot, then, the dextrous, bold, Red-sworded, battle-winning hero sprang Cuchullin, son of Sualtam, at a bound. Invisible Bocanachs and Bananachs, And Geniti Glindi[48] shouted round the car, And demons of the earth and of the air. For thus the Tuatha de Danaans used By sorceries to raise those fearful cries Around him, that the terror and the fear Of him should be the greater, as he swept On with his staff of spirits to the war. Soon was it when Ferdiah's charioteer Heard the approaching clamour and the shout, The rattle and the clatter, and the roar, The whistle, and the thunder, and the tramp, The clanking discord of the missi
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