Let us shut the door and put our backs against it. LEAGERIE. It is too late. Look, there he is at the door. He is standing on the threshold. [_A MAN dressed in red, with a great sword and red ragged hair, and having a Golden Helmet on his head, is standing on the threshold._ CUCHULAIN. Go back into the sea, old red head! If you will take off heads, take off the head of the sea turtle of Muirthemne, or of the pig of Connaught that has a moon in his belly, or of that old juggler Manannan, son of the sea, or of the red man of the Boyne, or of the King of the Cats, for they are of your own sort, and it may be they understand your ways. Go, I say, for when a man’s head is off it does not grow again. What are you standing there for? Go down, I say. If I cannot harm you with the sword I will put you down into the sea with my hands. Do you laugh at me, old red head? Go down before I lay my hands upon you. RED MAN. So you also believe I was in earnest when I asked for a man’s head? It was but a drinker’s joke, an old juggling feat, to pass the time. I am the best of all drinkers and tipsy companions, the kindest there is among the Shape-changers of the world. Look, I have brought this Golden Helmet as a gift. It is for you or for Leagerie or for Conal, for the best man, and the bravest fighting-man amongst you, and you yourselves shall choose the man. Leagerie is brave, and Conal is brave. They risk their lives in battle, but they were not brave enough for my jokes and my juggling. [_He lays the Golden Helmet on the ground._] Have I been too grim a joker? Well, I am forgiven now, for there is the Helmet, and let the strongest take it. [_He goes out._ CONAL [_taking Helmet_]. It is my right. I am a year older than Leagerie, and I have fought in more battles. LEAGERIE [_strutting about stage, sings_]. Leagerie of the Battles Has put to the sword The cat-headed men And carried away Their hidden gold. [_He snatches Helmet at the last word._ CONAL. Give it back to me, I say. What was the treasure but withered leaves when you got to your own door? CUCHULAIN. [_Taking the Helmet from LEAGERIE._] Give it to me, I say. CONAL. You are too young, Cuchulain. What deeds have you to be set beside our deeds? CUCHULAIN. I have not taken it for myself. It will belong to us all equally. [_He goes to table and begins filling Helmet with ale._] We will pass it round and drink out of it turn about and no one will be able to claim that it belongs to him more than another. I drink to your wife, Conal, and to your wife, Leagerie, and I drink to Emer my own wife. [_Shouting and blowing of horns in the distance._] What is that noise? CONAL.