And stretching out her arms, red with the dye,
Parted her lips with a loud sudden cry.
Looking on her, Aleel, the swineherd, said:
‘Not any god alive, nor mortal dead,
Has slain so mighty armies, so great kings,
Nor won the gold that now Cuchulain brings.’
‘Why do you tremble thus from feet to crown?’
Aleel, the swineherd, wept and cast him down
Upon the web-heaped floor, and thus his word:
‘With him is one sweet-throated like a bird,