And with that Darthool stooped, and lifted the head of Nathos, and cleaned it of blood and foam, and the sweats of death, and kissed the eyes and the lips, and put her love upon the dear face, and her sorrow upon it, and her grief upon it, and put it to her white breast, and to her lips again, and gave it again her grief and her love.
Then at the bidding of Cuchulain three graves were digged. In each grave a son of Usna was placed, and as each stood there his head was placed upon his shoulders.
But the grave of Nathos was made wider. Darthool stood therein and held his hands in hers, and put her lips often to his lips, and often whispered to him.
One other death there was in that hour, and in that place.
Cathba the Druid died there: and again he cried: “The Red Branch perisheth! Uladh passeth! Uladh passeth!”
And so it was. On the morrow Emain Macha fell before a great host, and was thenceforth a place of ruin and wind-eddied dust. The Red Branch became as scattered leaves, and were no more. And Uladh was given over to blood and rapine, and Concobar died in a madness of grief, and throughout Erin for many years the tides of death rose and fell.
But the sons of Usna slept, and the world dreams still of the beauty of Darthool.