Cuchulain:  “As by right of thrusts am I
Ulster’s champion and defence,
Naught I’ll yield till I retrieve
Cow and woman ta’en from Gael!”

Medb:  “What thou askest is too much,
After slaughtering our fair troops,
That we keep but steeds and gauds,
All because of one sole man!”

Cuchulain:  “Eocho’s daughter, fair, of Fal,
I’m not good at wars of words;
Though a warrior—­[b] fair the cheer—­[b]
Counsel mine is little worth!”

Medb:  “Shame thou hast none for what thou sayest,
O Dechtire’s lordly[c] son! 
Famous are the terms for thee,
O thou battling Culann’s Hound!”

[1-1] Stowe.

[a] Literally, ‘love.’

[2-2] Reading with H. 1. 13 and Stowe.

    [b-b] A cheville.

    [c] Literally, ‘richly trooped.’

When this lay was finished, Cuchulain accepted none of the terms which she had offered.  In such wise they parted in the valley and withdrew in equal anger on the one side and on the other.

The warriors of four of the five grand provinces of Erin pitched camp and took quarters for three days and three nights at Druim En (’Birds’ Ridge’) in Conalle Murthemni, but neither huts nor tents did they set up, nor did they [W.1688.] engage in feasts or repasts, nor sang they songs nor carols those three nights.  And Cuchulain destroyed a hundred of their warriors every night ere the bright hour of sunrise on the morrow.

[LL.fo.70b.] “Our hosts will not last long in this fashion,” said Medb, “if Cuchulain slays a hundred of our warriors every night.  Wherefore is a proposal not made to him and do we not parley with him?” “What might the proposal be?” asked Ailill.  “Let the cattle that have milk be given to him and the captive women from amongst our booty.  And he on his side shall check his staff-sling from the men of Erin and give leave to the hosts to sleep, [1]even though he slay them by day."[1] “Who shall go with that proposal?” Ailill asked.  “Who,” answered Medb, “but macRoth the [2]chief[2] runner!” “Nay, but I will not go,” said macRoth, “for I am in no way experienced and know not where Cuchulain may be, [3]and even though I should meet him, I should not know him.[3]” “Ask Fergus,” quoth Medb; “like enough he knows [4]where he is.[4]” “Nay, then, I know it not,” answered Fergus; “but I trow he is [5]in the snow[5] between Fochain and the sea, taking the wind and the sun after his sleeplessness last night, killing and slaughtering the host single handed.”  And so it truly was. [6]Then on that errand to Delga macRoth set forth, the messenger of Ailill and Medb.  He it is that circles Erin in one day.  There it is that Fergus opined that Cuchulain would be, in Delga.[6]

    [1-1] LU. and YBL. 1128.

    [2-2] H. 2. 17.

    [3-3] H. 2. 17.

    [4-4] H. 2. 17.

    [5-5] H. 2. 17.

    [6-6] LU. and YBL. 1109-1111.