Nay, thy threats show no meekness;
Yet here thou should'st stay;
For on thee shall come weakness,
Woe waits on thy way:
For by Ulster's Rock broken
This battle may be,
And it long shall be spoken
How ill 'twas to thee.
Ferdia
An ill word art thou saying;
It fits not our race
That a champion, delaying
From fight, should thee grace.
Then thy speech, my friend, fetter,
No foe will we fear;
But, since valour is better,
His challenge we near.
Then Ferdia's horses were harnessed for him, and his chariot was yoked,
and he came forward to the ford of battle; but when he had come there
he found that the full light of the day had not yet dawned, and "O my
servant!" said Ferdia, "spread out for me the cushions and skins that
are upon my chariot, that I may rest upon them till I take the deep
repose of refreshing sleep, for during the latter part of this night
have I taken no rest, on account of the care that I had for this combat
and fight." And the servant unharnessed his horses, and he placed
together the cushions and the skins that were upon the chariot, so that
Ferdia might rest upon them, and he sank into the deep repose of
refreshing sleep.
Now in this place I will tell of the acts of Cuchulain. He rose not at
all from his couch until the full light of the day; and this he did in
order that the men of Ireland should not be able to say that it was
from fear or from dread that he rose, if it had been early that he had
arisen. And when the full daylight had come, he commanded his
charioteer to harness for him his horses, and to yoke his chariot: "O
my servant!" said Cuchulain, "harness for us our horses, and put the
yoke to our chariot, for early rises the champion who cometh to meet us
this day: even Ferdia, the son of Daman, the son of Dare." "The horses
are harnessed," said the charioteer, "and the chariot is yoked; step
thou into it, for it will bring no shame on thy valour." Then did
Cuchulain, the fighter of battles, the skilful in feats, the winner of
victory, that red-sworded hero, the son of Sualtam, leap into his
chariot. All around him screamed the Bocanachs, and the Bananachs, and
the wild people of the glens, and the demons of the air; for it was the
custom of the people of the wizard race of Danu to raise their cries
about him in every battle, on every stricken field, in every duel, and
in every fight to which he went, that thereby in such fight the hatred,
and the fear, and the avoidance, and the terror that men felt for him
should be increased. In no short time the charioteer of Ferdia heard
the roar of Cuchulain's approach; the clamour, and the hissing, and the
tramp; and the thunder, and the clatter, and the buzz: for he heard the
shields that were used as missiles clank together as they touched; and
he heard the spears hiss, and the swords clash, and the helmet tinkle,
and the armour ring; and the arms sawed one against the other, and the
javelins swung, and the ropes strained, and the wheels of the chariot
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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