battle to-day than did the casting of yesterday.  Let our horses be brought to us and our chariots yoked, to the end that we engage in combat over our horses and chariots on this day.”  “Aye, let us go so,” Ferdiad assented.  Thereupon they girded two full-firm broad-shields on them for that day.  They took to their great, well-tempered lances on that day.  Either of them began to pierce and to drive, to throw and to press down the other, from early morning’s twilight till the hour of evening’s close.  If it were the wont for birds in flight to fly through the bodies of men, they could have passed through their bodies on that day and carried away pieces of blood and flesh through their wounds and their sores into the clouds and the air all around.  And when the hour of evening’s close was come, their horses were spent and their drivers were wearied, and they themselves, the heroes and warriors of valour, were exhausted.  “Let us give over now, O Ferdiad,” said Cuchulain, “for our horses are spent and our drivers tired, and when they are exhausted, why should we too not be exhausted?” And in this wise he spake, and he uttered these words at that place:—­

    “We need not our chariots break—­
    This, a struggle fit for giants.

    [W.3626.] Place the hobbles on the steeds,
    Now that din of arms is o’er!”

“Yea, we will cease, if the time hath come,” replied Ferdiad.  They ceased [1]then.[1] They threw their arms away from them into the hands of their charioteers.  Each of them came towards his fellow.  Each laid his hand on the other’s neck and gave him three kisses.  Their horses were in the one pen that night, and their charioteers at the one fire.  Their charioteers prepared [2]two[2] litter-beds of fresh rushes for them with pillows for wounded men on them.  The curing and healing men came to attend and watch and mark them that night; for naught else could they do, because of the direfulness of their cuts and their stabs, their gashes and their numerous wounds, but apply to them philtres and spells and charms, to staunch their blood and their bleeding and their deadly pains.  Of every magic potion and every spell and every charm that was applied to the cuts and stabs of Cuchulain, their like share he sent over the ford westwards to Ferdiad.  Of every food and every savoury, soothing and strong drink that was brought by the men of Erin to Ferdiad, an equal portion he sent over the ford northwards to Cuchulain, for the victuallers of Ferdiad were more numerous than the victuallers of Cuchulain.  For all the men of Erin were Ferdiad’s nourishers, to the end that he might ward off Cuchulain from them.  But the indwellers of the Plain of Breg alone were Cuchulain’s nourishers.  They were wont to come daily, that is, every night, to converse with him.

    [1-1] Stowe.

    [2-2] Stowe.