Now word was brought to Emer of that tryst, and knives were whetted by Emer to slay the lady; and she came to the place of the tryst, and fifty women were with her. And there she found, Cuchulain and Laeg, and they were engaged in the chess-play, so that they perceived not the women's approach. But Fand marked it, and she cried out to Laeg: "Look now, O Laeg!" she said, "and mark that sight that I see." "What sight is that of which thou speakest?" said Laeg, and he looked and saw it, and thus it was that the lady, even Fand, addressed him: Laeg! look behind thee! Close to thine ear Wise, well-ranked women Press on us near; Bright on each bosom Shines the gold clasp; Knives, with green edges Whetted, they grasp: As for the slaughter chariot chiefs race, Comes Forgall's daughter; changed is her face. "Have no fear," said Cuchulain, "no foe shalt thou meet; Enter thou my strong car, with its sunny bright seat: I will set thee before me, will guard thee from harm Against women, from Ulster's four quarters that swarm: Though the daughter of Forgall the war with thee vows, Though her dear foster-sisters against thee she rouse, No deed of destruction bold Emer will dare, Though she rageth against thee, for I will be there." Moreover to Emer he said: I avoid thee, O lady, as heroes Avoid to meet friends in a strife; The hard spear thy hand shakes cannot injure, Nor the blade of thy thin gleaming knife; For the wrath pent within thee that rageth Is but weak, nor can cause mine affright: It were hard if the war my might wageth Must be quenched by a weak woman's might! "Speak! and tell me, Cuchulain," cried Emer, "Why this shame on my head thou wouldst lay? Before women of Ulster dishonoured I stand, And all women who dwell in the wide Irish land, And all folk who love honour beside: Though I came on thee, secretly creeping, Though oppressed by thy might I remain, And though great is thy pride in the battle, If thou leavest me, naught is thy gain: Why, dear youth, such attempt dost thou make? "Speak thou, Emer, and say," said Cuchulain, "Should I not with this lady delay? For this lady is fair, pare and bright, and well skilled, A fit mate for a monarch, in beauty fulfilled, And the billows of ocean can ride: She is lovely in countenance, lofty in race, And with handicraft skilled can fine needlework trace, Hath a mind that with firmness can guide: And in steeds hath she wealth, and much cattle Doth she own; there is naught under sky A dear wife for a spouse should be keeping But that gift with this lady have I: Though the vow that I made thee I break, Thou shalt ne'er find champion Rich, like me, in scars; Ne'er such worth, such brilliance, None who wins my wars."