“Ale, my little love,” said the charioteer.
“Bring mead for the Cú when he wants it,” Emer ordered indignantly.
“Sweet mistress,” said Laeg, “we have to bring him home to-night.”
“Then give him ale,” said Emer.
“It will surely be ale,” cried the delighted Conachúr.
“Mead,” Cúchulinn pleaded.
“You will want to fight the moon and stars as we go home,” Emer rebuked him.
“I can fight on ale just as well,” Cúchulinn asserted.
“And it is good heady ale,” the king assured him.
“Let it be ale, then,” said Cúchulinn.