"In good sooth," answered Emer, "the lady to whom thou dost cling is in no way better than am I myself! Yet fair seems all that's red; seems white what's new alone; and bright what's set o'erhead; and sour are things well known! Men worship what they lack; and what they have seems weak; in truth thou hast all the wisdom of the time! O youth!" she said, "once we dwelled in honour together, and we would so dwell again, if only I could find favour in thy sight!" and her grief weighed heavily upon her. "By my word," said Cuchulain, "thou dost find favour, and thou shalt find it so long as I am in life." "Desert me, then!" cried Fand. "Nay," said Emer, "it is more fitting that I should be the deserted one." "Not so, indeed," said Fand. "It is I who must go, and danger rusheth upon me from afar." And an eagerness for lamentation seized upon Fand, and her soul was great within her, for it was shame to her to be deserted and straightway to return to her home; moreover the mighty love that she bare to Cuchulain was tumultuous in her, and in this fashion she lamented, and lamenting sang this song: Mighty need compels me, I must go my way; Fame for others waiteth, Would I here could stay! Sweeter were it resting Guarded by thy power, Than to find the marvels In Aed Abra's bower. Emer! noble lady! Take thy man to thee: Though my arms resign him, Longing lives in me. Oft in shelters hidden Men to seek me came; None could win my trysting, I myself was flame. Ah! no maid her longing On a man should set Till a love full equal To her own she get. Fifty women hither, Emer! thou hast brought Thou wouldst Fand make captive, Hast on murder thought. Till the day I need them Waits, my home within; Thrice thy host! fair virgins, These my war shall win. Now upon this it was discerned by Manannan that Fand the daughter of Aed Abra was engaged in unequal warfare with the women of Ulster, and that she was like to be left by Cuchulain. And thereon Manannan came from the east to seek for the lady, and he was perceived by her, nor was there any other conscious of his presence saving Fand alone. And, when she saw Manannan, the lady was seized by great bitterness of mind and by grief, and being thus, she made this song: Lo! the Son of the Sea-Folk from plains draws near Whence Yeogan, the Stream, is poured; 'Tis Manannan, of old he to me was dear, And above the fair world we soared. Yet to-day, although excellent sounds his cry, No love fills my noble heart, For the pathways of love may be bent awry, Its knowledge in vain depart. When I dwelt in the bower of the Yeogan Stream, At the Son of the Ocean's side, Of a life there unending was then our dream, Naught seemed could our love divide. When the comely Manannan to wed me came, To me, as a spouse, full meet; Not in shame was I sold, in no chessmen's game The price of a foe's defeat.