We are one being, as these flames are one: I give my wisdom, and I take your strength. Now thrust the swords into the flame, and pray That they may serve the threshold and the hearthstone With faithful service. [_The KINGS kneel in a semicircle before the two WOMEN and CUCHULAIN, who thrusts his sword into the flame. They all put the points of their swords into the flame. The third WOMAN is at the back near the big door._ CUCHULAIN. O pure, glittering ones That should be more than wife or friend or mistress, Give us the enduring will, the unquenchable hope, The friendliness of the sword!— [_The song grows louder, and the last words ring out clearly. There is a loud knocking at the door, and a cry of_ ‘Open! open!’ CONCHUBAR. Some king that has been loitering on the way. Open the door, for I would have all know That the oath’s finished and Cuchulain bound, And that the swords are drinking up the flame. [_The door is opened by the third WOMAN, and a YOUNG MAN with a drawn sword enters._ YOUNG MAN. I am of Aoife’s army. [_The KINGS rush towards him. CUCHULAIN throws himself between._ CUCHULAIN. Put up your swords. He is but one. Aoife is far away. YOUNG MAN. I have come alone into the midst of you To weigh this sword against Cuchulain’s sword. CONCHUBAR. And are you noble? for if of common seed, You cannot weigh your sword against his sword But in mixed battle. YOUNG MAN. I am under bonds To tell my name to no man; but it’s noble. CONCHUBAR. But I would know your name and not your bonds. You cannot speak in the Assembly House, If you are not noble. FIRST OLD KING. Answer the High King! YOUNG MAN. I will give no other proof than the hawk gives— That it’s no sparrow! [_He is silent for a moment, then speaks to all._] Yet look upon me, kings. I, too, am of that ancient seed, and carry The signs about this body and in these bones. CUCHULAIN. To have shown the hawk’s grey feather is enough, And you speak highly, too. Give me that helmet. I’d thought they had grown weary sending champions. That sword and belt will do. This fighting’s welcome. The High King there has promised me his wisdom; But the hawk’s sleepy till its well-beloved Cries out amid the acorns, or it has seen Its enemy like a speck upon the sun. What’s wisdom to the hawk, when that clear eye Is burning nearer up in the high air? [_Looks hard at YOUNG MAN; then comes down steps and grasps YOUNG MAN by shoulder._ Hither into the light. [_To_ CONCHUBAR.] The very tint Of her that I was speaking of but now. Not a pin’s difference. [_To_ YOUNG MAN.]