They abode there that night.  Early on the morrow they arose and repaired to the ford of combat.  Cuchulain marked an evil mien and a dark mood that day [3]beyond every other day[3] on Ferdiad.  “It is evil thou appearest to-day, O Ferdiad,” spake Cuchulain; “thy hair has [W.3653.] become dark[a] to-day, and thine eye has grown drowsy, and thine upright form [LL.fo.85b.] and thy features and thy gait have gone from thee!” “Truly not for fear nor for dread of thee is that happened to me to-day,” answered Ferdiad; “for there is not in Erin this day a warrior I could not repel!” [1]"Alas, O Ferdiad,” said Cuchulain, “a pity it is for thee to oppose thy foster-brother and thy comrade and friend, on the counsel of any woman in the world!” “A pity it is, O Cuchulain,” Ferdiad responded.  “But, should I part without a struggle with thee, I should be in ill repute forever with Medb and with the nobles of the four grand provinces of Erin.”  “A pity it is, O Ferdiad,” said Cuchulain; “not on the counsel of all the men and women in the world would I desert thee or would I do thee harm.  And almost would it make a clot of gore of my heart to be combating with thee!"[1]

    [3-3] Eg. 209 and Eg. 106.

    [a] An unusual colour of the hair betokened misfortune.

    [1-1] Eg. 106.

And Cuchulain lamented and moaned, and he spake these words and Ferdiad responded:—­

    Cuchulain:  “Ferdiad, ah, if it be thou,
               Well I know thou’rt doomed to die! 
               To have gone at woman’s hest,
               Forced to fight thy comrade sworn!”

      Ferdiad:  “O Cuchulain—­wise decree—­
               Loyal champion, hero true,
               Each man is constrained to go
               ’Neath the sod that hides his grave!”

    Cuchulain:  “Finnabair, Medb’s daughter fair,
               Stately maiden though she be,
               Not for love they’ll give to thee,
               But to prove thy kingly might!”

      Ferdiad:  “Proved was my might long since,
               Cu of gentle spirit thou. 
               Of one braver I’ve not heard;
               Till to-day I have not found!”

    Cuchulain:  “Thou art he provoked this fight,
               Son of Daman, Dare’s son,
               To have gone at woman’s word,
               Swords to cross with thine old friend!”

      Ferdiad:  [W.3679.] “Should we then unfought depart,
               Brothers though we are, bold Hound,
               Ill would be my word and fame
               With Ailill and Cruachan’s Medb!”

    Cuchulain:  “Food has not yet passed his lips,
               Nay nor has he yet been born,
               Son of king or blameless queen,
               For whom I would work thee harm!”

      Ferdiad:  “Culann’s Hound, with floods of deeds,
               Medb, not thou, hath us betrayed;
               Fame and victory thou shalt have;
               Not on thee we lay our fault!”