"Finnabair of the champions (?áinBóCú), Queen of western Erin, When thou'st slain the Smith's Hound, Ferdiad, she's thine!"
Ferdiad: [1]"Should I have Finnabair to wife, Falls of Ai and Cruachan too, And to dwell for alway there, I'd not seek the deedful Hound!
"Equal skill to me and him--" Thus spake Ferdiad withal-- "The same nurses raised us[a] both, And with them we learned our art.
"Not for fear of battle hard, Noble Eocho Fedlech's maid, Would I shun the Blacksmith's Hound, But my heart bleeds for his love!"
Medb: "Thou shalt have, dear, bright-scaled[b] man,[c] One swift, proud, high-mettled steed. Thou shalt have domains and land And shalt stay not from the fight (?)!"
Ferdiad: "But that Medb entreated so, And that poets' tongues did urge, I'd not go for hard rewards To contend with mine own friend!"
Medb: "Son of Daman of white cheeks, Shouldst thou check this heroes' Hound, E'er so long thy fame will live, When thou comest from Ferdiad's Ford!"[1]
[1-1] Eg. 106 (_Revue Celtique,_ t. x, page 339). The metre is changed designedly to agree with the original.
[2]Then said they, one and all, those gifts were great. [3]"'Tis true, they are great.[3] But though they are," said [W.3113.] Ferdiad, "with Medb herself I will leave them, and I will not accept them if it be to do battle or combat with my foster-brother, the man of my alliance and affection, [1]and my equal in skill of arms,[1] namely, with Cuchulain." And he said:--
"Greatest toil, [2]this, greatest toil,[2] Battle with the Hound of gore! Liefer would I battle twice With two hundred men of Fal!
"Sad the fight, [2]and sad the fight,[2] I and Hound of feats shall wage! We shall hack both flesh and blood; Skin and body we shall hew!
"Sad, O god, [2]yea, sad, O god,[2] That a woman should us part! My heart's half, the blameless Hound; Half the brave Hound's heart am I!
"By my shield, [2]O, by my shield,[2] If Ath Cliath's brave Hound should fall, I will drive my slender glaive Through my heart, my side, my breast!
"By my sword, [2]O, by my sword,[2] If the Hound of Glen Bolg fall! No man after him I'll slay, Till I o'er the world's brink spring!
"By my hand, [2]O, by my hand![2] Falls the Hound of Glen in Sgail, Medb with all her host I'll kill, And then no more men of Fal!