On the third day they arose early in the morning and came forward to the place of combat.  Cuculain saw that the face of Ferdiad was dark as a black cloud, and thus addressed him:  “Thy face is darkened, Ferdiad, and thine eye has lost its fire, nor are the form and features thine!” And Ferdiad answered, “O, Cuculain, it is not from fear or dread that my face is changed, for I am ready to meet all champions in the fight.”  Cuculain reproached him, wondering that, for the persuasions of Meave, Ferdiad was willing thus to fight against his friend, coming to spoil his land.  But Ferdiad replied that fate compelled him, since every man is constrained to come unto the sod where shall be his last resting-place.  That day the heroes fought with swords, but such was the skill of both that neither could break down the other’s guard.

In the dusk they cast away their weapons, ceasing from the fight; and though the meeting of the two had been full of vigor and friendship in the morning, yet was their parting at night mournful and full of sorrow.  That night their horses were not in the same enclosure, nor did their charioteers rest at the same fire.

Then Ferdiad arose early in the morning and went forth to the place of contest, knowing well that that day would decide whether he should fall or Cuculain; knowing that the sun would set on one of them dead that night.  Cuculain, seeing him come forth, spoke thus to his charioteer:  “I see the might and skill of Ferdiad, coming forth to the combat.  If it be I that shall begin to yield to-day, do thou stir my valor, uttering reproaches and words of condemnation against me, so that my wrath shall grow upon me, enkindling me again for the battle.”  And the charioteer assented and promised.

Great was the deed that was performed that day at the ford by the two heroes, the two warriors, the two champions of western lands, the two gift-bestowing hands of the northwest of the world, the two beloved pillars of the valor of the Gael, the two keys of the bravery of the Gael, brought to fight from afar through the schemes of Meave the queen.

They began to shoot with their missiles from the dawn of the day, from early morning till noon.  And when midday came the ire of the men waxed more furious, and they drew nearer together.  Then Cuculain sprang from the river-bank against the boss of the shield of Ferdiad, son of Daman, to strike at his head over the rim of the shield from above.  But Ferdiad gave the shield so strong a turn with his left arm that he cast Cuculain from him like a bird.  Cuculain sprang again upon him, to strike him from above.  But the son of Daman so struck the shield with his left knee that he cast Cuculain from him like a child.

Then the charioteer of Cuculain spoke to chide him:  “Woe for thee, whom the warrior thus casts aside as an evil mother casts away her offspring.  He throws thee as foam is thrown by the river.  He grinds thee as a mill would grind fresh grain.  He pierces thee as the ax of the woodman cleaves the oak.  He binds thee as the woodbine binds the tree.  He darts on thee as the hawk darts on finches, so that henceforth thou hast no claim or name or fame for valor, until thy life’s end, thou phantom sprite!”