Hither into the light. (Turning to one of the young kings)
That's the very tint
Of her that I was speaking of but now:
Not a pin's difference. (To the young man)
You are from the North
Where there are many that have that tint of hair
Red brown, the light red brown. Come nearer, boy!
For I would have another look at you.
There's more likeness, a pale, a stone pale cheek.
What brought you boy? Have you no fear of death?
YOUNG MAN.
Whether I live or die is in the Gods' hands.
CUCHULLAIN.
That is all words, all words, a young man's talk;
I am their plough, their harrow, their very strength,
For he that's in the sun begot this body
Upon a mortal woman, and I have heard tell
It seemed as if he had outrun the moon,
That he must always follow through waste heaven,
He loved so happily. He'll be but slow
To break a tree that was so sweetly planted.
Let's see that arm; I'll see it if I like.
That arm had a good father and a good mother
But it is not like this.
YOUNG MAN.
You are mocking me.
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