MAN.

Whether I live or die is in the Gods' hands.

CUCHULLAIN.

That is all words, all words, a young man's talk;
I am their plough, their harrow, their very strength,
For he that's in the sun begot this body
Upon a mortal woman, and I have heard tell
It seemed as if he had outrun the moon,
That he must always follow through waste heaven,
He loved so happily. He'll be but slow
To break a tree that was so sweetly planted.
Let's see that arm; I'll see it if I like.
That arm had a good father and a good mother
But it is not like this.

YOUNG MAN.

You are mocking me.
You think I am not worthy to be fought,
But I'll not wrangle but with this talkative knife.

CUCHULLAIN.

Put up your sword, I am not mocking you.
I'd have you for my friend, but if it's not
Because you have a hot heart and a cold eye
I cannot tell the reason. You've got her fierceness,
And nobody is as fierce as those pale women.

(To the young Kings)

We'll keep him here in Muirthemne awhile.

A YOUNG KING.

You are the leader of our pack and therefore
May cry what you will.

CUCHULLAIN.

You'll stop with us
And we will hunt the deer and the wild bulls
And, when we have grown weary, light our fires
In sandy places where the wool-white foam
Is murmuring and breaking, and it may be
That long-haired women will come out of the dunes
To dance in the yellow fire-light. You hang your head,
Young man, as if it was not a good life;
And yet what's better than to hurl the spear,
And hear the long-remembering harp, and dance;
Friendship grows quicker in the murmuring dark;
But I can see there's no more need for words
And that you'll be my friend now.

FIRST OLD KING.

Concobar,
Forbid their friendship, for it will get twisted
To a reproach against us.

CONCOBAR.

Until now
I'd never need to cry Cuchullain on
And would not now.

FIRST OLD KING.

They'll say his manhood's quenched.

CUCHULLAIN.

I'll give you gifts, but I'll have something too,
An arm-ring or the like, and if you will
We'll fight it out when you are older, boy.

AN OLD KING.

Aoife will make some story out of this.

CUCHULLAIN.

Well, well, what matter, I'll have that arm-ring, boy.

YOUNG MAN.

There is no man I'd sooner have my