Cuchulainn's Appeal to Ferdiad

Come not here, nor helmet don,
O Ferdiad, Daman's son;
Worst for thee will be the blow,
Though it bring a world of woe.

Come not here, with wrongful strife,
My hands hold thy last of life;
Why hast not bethought thee well
How my mighty foemen fell?

Art not bought with weapons bright,
Purple belt, and armour light?
She for whom thy weapons shine
Shall not, Daman's son, be thine.

Mave's fair daughter, Findabar,
Brilliant though her beauties are,

Though her form has ev'ry grace,
Her thou never shalt embrace;

King's daughter is Findabar,
Pledged to thee for price of war;
Pledged to other chiefs was she,
Whom she led to death, like thee.

Break our vow of peace not here,
Break not friendship, long and dear;
Break not thou thy plighted word,
Come not hither, with the sword.

They have pledged the peerless maid
Fifty times for battle aid;
Fifty times fit meed I gave
Ev'ry champion found a grave.

Who than Ferbeth was more proud?
Heroes used his court to crowd;
His high rage was soon brought low,
Him I slew with but a blow.

Dare, too, how rude his fate!
Loved by maids of high estate;
Fame afar his name had told,
His robe glowed with threaded gold.

Should she be mine, on whom smiles
All the isle's most valiant youth, —
I would crimson not thy breast
East or West, or North or South!