'The eye soon compasses it indeed,' said Cuchulainn.
'That is what I see,' said Etarcomol. 'I do not know at all why you should be feared by any one. I do not see terror or fearfulness, or overwhelming of a host, in you; you are merely a fair youth with arms of wood, and with fine feats.'
'Though you speak ill of me,' said Cuchulainn, 'I will not kill you for the sake of Fergus. But for your protection, it would have been your entrails drawn (?) and your quarters scattered, that would have gone from me to the camp behind your chariot.'
'Threaten me not thus,' said Etarcomol. 'The wonderful agreement that he has bound, that is, the single combat, it is I who will first meet you of the men of Ireland to-morrow.'
Then he goes away. He turned back from Methe and Cethe and said to his charioteer:
'I have boasted,' said he, 'before Fergus combat with Cuchulainn to-morrow. It is not possible for us [Note: YBL reading.] to wait for it; turn the horses back again from the hill.'
Loeg sees this and says to Cuchulainn: 'There is the chariot back again, and it has put its left board [Note: An insult.] towards us.'
'It is not a "debt of refusal,"' said Cuchulainn. 'I do not wish,' said Cuchulainn, 'what you demand of me.'
'This is obligatory to you,' said Etarcomol.
Cuchulainn strikes the sod under his feet, so that he fell prostrate, and the sod behind him.