He said that in twelve months more he would come again to this house And ask his debt again. Twelve months are up to-day. CONALL He would have followed after if we had run away. LAEGAIRE Will he tell every mother's son that we have broken our word? CUCHULAIN Whether he does or does not we'll drive him out with the sword, And take his life in the bargain if he but dare to scoff. CONALL How can you fight with a head that laughs when you've whipped it off? LAEGAIRE Or a man that can pick it up and carry it out in his hand? CONALL He is coming now, there's a splash and a rumble along the strand As when he came last. CUCHULAIN Come, and put all your backs to the door. [_A tall, red-headed, red-cloaked man stands upon the threshold against the misty green of the sea; the ground, higher without than within the house, makes him seem taller even than he is. He leans upon a great two-handed sword_] LAEGAIRE It is too late to shut it, for there he stands once more And laughs like the sea. CUCHULAIN Old herring--You whip off heads! Why, then Whip off your own, for it seems you can clap it on again. Or else go down in the sea, go down in the sea, I say, Find that old juggler Manannan and whip his head away; Or the Red Man of the Boyne, for they are of your own sort, Or if the waves have vexed you and you would find a sport Of a more Irish fashion, go fight without a rest A caterwauling phantom among the winds of the west. But what are you waiting for? into the water, I say! If there's no sword can harm you, I've an older trick to play, An old five-fingered trick to tumble you out of the place; I am Sualtim's son Cuchulain--what, do you laugh in my face? RED MAN So you too think me in earnest in wagering poll for poll! A drinking joke and a gibe and a juggler's feat, that is all, To make the time go quickly--for I am the drinker's friend, The kindest of all Shape-Changers from here to the world's end, The best of all tipsy companions. And now I bring you a gift: I will lay it there on the ground for the best of you all to lift, [_He lays his Helmet on the ground_] And wear upon his own head, and choose for yourselves the best. O! Laegaire and Conall are brave, but they were afraid of my jest. Well, maybe I jest too grimly when the ale is in the cup. There, I'm forgiven now-- [_Then in a more solemn voice as he goes out_] Let the bravest take it up. [_CONALL takes up Helmet and gazes at it with delight_] LAEGAIRE [_Singing, with a swaggering stride_] Laegaire is best; Between water and hill, He fought in the west With cat heads, until At the break of day All fell by his sword, And he carried away Their hidden hoard. [_He seizes the Helmet_] CONALL Give it me, for what did you find in the bag But the straw and the broken delf and the bits of dirty rag You'd taken for good money?