No More Learning

I will give no other proof than the hawk gives--
That it's no sparrow!

[_He is silent for a moment, then speaks to all. _]

Yet look upon me, kings.
I, too, am of that ancient seed, and carry
The signs about this body and in these bones.

CUCHULAIN.

To have shown the hawk's grey feather is enough,
And you speak highly, too. Give me that helmet.
I'd thought they had grown weary sending champions.
That sword and belt will do. This fighting's welcome.
The High King there has promised me his wisdom;
But the hawk's sleepy till its well-beloved
Cries out amid the acorns, or it has seen
Its enemy like a speck upon the sun.
What's wisdom to the hawk, when that clear eye
Is burning nearer up in the high air?

[_Looks hard at YOUNG MAN; then comes down steps and
grasps YOUNG MAN by shoulder. _

Hither into the light.

[_To_ CONCHUBAR.
]

The very tint
Of her that I was speaking of but now.
Not a pin's difference.

[_To_ 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.

CUCHULAIN.

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 follow always 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 choose.