"It is bad you are looking to-day," said Cuchulain.
"It is not from fear or dread of you I am looking this way," answered Ferdiad.
"No one has ever put food to his lips, Ferdiad, and no one has ever been born for whose sake I would have hurt you."
"Cuchulain," cried Ferdiad, "it was not you, but Maeve, who has betrayed us, and now my word and my name will be worth nothing if I go back without doing battle with you."
And that day they fought with their swords, and each hacked at the other from dawn till evening. When they threw their swords from them into the hands of their chariot-drivers, their parting that night was sad and down-hearted.
Early the next morning Ferdiad rose up and went by himself to the ford, and there clad himself in his shirt of striped silk with its border of speckled gold, over that a coat of brown leather, and on his head a crested helmet of battle. Taking his strong spear in his right hand and sword in his left, he began to show off very cunningly, wonderful feats that were made up that day by himself against Cuchulain.
KINGS IN ARMOR
MS. Camb. Univ. Libr. Ee. iii. 59
C. A.D. 1245
But when Cuchulain came to the ford, it was his turn to choose the weapons for the day. And they fought all the morning. By midday the anger of each was hot upon him, and Cuchulain leaped up onto the bosses of Ferdiad's shield, but Ferdiad tossed him from him like a bird on the brink of the ford, or as foam is thrown from a wave. Then did Cuchulain leap with the quickness of the wind and the lightness of a swallow, and lit on the boss of Ferdiad's shield. But Ferdiad shook his shield and cast Cuchulain from him. Cuchulain's anger came on him like flame; and so close was the fight that their shields were broken and loosened, that their spears were bent from their points to their hilts; and so close was the fight that they drove the river from its bed, and that their horses broke away in fear and madness.