[5-5] Stowe,áinBóCú and, similarly Eg. 209 and Eg. 106.
Not long had Ferdiad's charioteer waited when he heard something: [1]A rush and a crash and a hurtling sound, and a din and a thunder,[1] [LL.fo.83a.] and a clatter and a clash, namely, the shield-cry of feat-shields, and the jangle of javelins, and the deed-striking of swords, and the thud of the helmet, [2]and the ring of spears,[2] and the clang of the cuirass, and the striking of arms, the fury of feats, the straining of ropes, and the whirr of wheels, and the creaking of the chariot, and the trampling of horses' hoofs, and the deep voice of the hero and battle-warrior [3]in grave speech with his servant[3] on his way to the ford to attack his opponent.
The servant came and touched his master with his hand [4]and awakened him.[4] "Ferdiad, master," said the youth, "rise up! They are here to meet thee at the ford." [5]Then[5] [6]Ferdiad arose and girt his body in his war-dress of battle and combat.[6] And the gilla spake these words:--
"The roll of a chariot, Its fair yoke of silver; A man great and stalwart O'ertops the strong car! O'er Bri Ross, o'er Branè Their swift path they hasten; Past Old-tree Town's[a] tree-stump, Victorious they speed!
"A sly Hound that driveth, A fair chief that urgeth, A free hawk that speedeth His steeds towards the south! Gore-coloured, the Cua,[b] 'Tis sure he will take us; We know--vain to hide it-- He brings us defeat![c]
[W.3335.] "Woe him on the hillock, The brave Hound before him; Last year I foretold it, That some time he'd come! Hound from Emain Macha, Hound formed of all colours, The Border-hound, War-hound, I hear what I've heard!"
[6-6] Stowe and, similarly, Eg. 209, Eg. 106 and H. 1. 13.
"Come, gilla," said Ferdiad; "for what reason laudest thou this man ever since I am come from my house? And it is almost a cause for strife with thee that thou hast praised him thus highly. But, Ailill and Medb have prophesied to me that this man will fall by my hand. And since it is for a reward, he shall quickly be torn asunder by me. [1]And make ready the arms on the ford against his coming." "Should I turn my face backward," said the gilla; "methinks the poles of yon chariot will pass through the back of my neck." "Too much, my lad," said Ferdiad, "dost thou praise Cuchulain, for not a reward has he given thee for praising,[1] but it is time to fetch help." And he spake these words, and the henchman responded:--