‘Good, my lad,’ said he, ’get our horses for us, and harness the chariot.’

‘On our word,’ said the servant, ’we think it not greater praise to go this journey than not to go it.’

He was talking with his charioteer, and he made this little song, inciting his charioteer: 

        ‘Let us go to this meeting,’ etc.

The servant got the horses and yoked the chariot, and they went forth from the camp.

‘My lad,’ said Fer Diad, ’it is not fitting that we make our journey without farewell to the men of Ireland.  Turn the horses and the chariot for us towards the men of Ireland.’

The servant turned the horses and the chariot thrice towards the men of Ireland. ...

‘Does Ailill sleep now?’ said Medb.

‘Not at all,’ said Ailill.

‘Do you hear your new son-in-law greeting you?’

‘Is that what he is doing?’ said Ailill.

‘It is indeed,’ said Medb, ’and I swear by what my people swear, the man who makes the greeting yonder will not come back to you on the same feet.’

’Nevertheless we have profited by(?) the good marriage connection with him,’ said Ailill; ’provided Cuchulainn fell by him, I should not care though they both fell.  But we should think it better for Fer Diad to escape.’

Fer Diad came to the ford of combat.

‘Look, my lad,’ said Fer Diad; ‘is Cuchulainn on the ford?’

‘He is not, indeed,’ said the servant.

‘Look well for us,’ said Fer Diad.

‘Cuchulainn is not a little speck in hiding where he would be,’ said the lad.

’It is true, O boy, until to-day Cuchulainn has not heard of the coming of a good warrior [Note:  Gloss incorporated in the text:  ’or a good man.’] against him on the Cattle Foray of Cualnge, and when he has heard of it he has left the ford.’

’A great pity to slander Cuchulainn in his absence!  For do you remember how when you gave battle to German Garbglas above the edge-borders of the Tyrrhene Sea, you left your sword with the hosts, and it was Cuchulainn who killed a hundred warriors in reaching it, and he brought it to you; and do you remember where we were that night?’ said the lad.

‘I do not know it,’ said Fer Diad.

‘At the house of Scathach’s steward,’ said the lad, ’and you went ——­ and haughtily before us into the house first.  The churl gave you a blow with the three-pointed flesh-hook in the small of your back, so that it threw you out over the door like a shot.  Cuchulainn came into the house and gave the churl a blow with his sword, so that it made two pieces of him.  It was I who was steward for you while you were in that place.  If only for that day, you should not say that you are a better warrior than Cuchulainn.’

‘What you have done is wrong,’ said Fer Diad, ’for I would not have come to seek the combat if you had said it to me at first.  Why do you not pull the cushions [Note:  LL fortchai.  YBL has feirtsi, ‘shafts.’] of the chariot under my side and my skin-cover under my head, so that I might sleep now?’