It's a good life:
The head grows prouder in the light of the dawn,
And friendship thickens in the murmuring dark
Where the spare hazels meet the wool-white foam.
The head grows prouder in the light of the dawn,
And friendship thickens in the murmuring dark
Where the spare hazels meet the wool-white foam.
Yeats
Let's see that arm. I'll see it if I choose.
That arm had a good father and a good mother,
But it is not like this.
YOUNG MAN.
You are mocking me;
You think I am not worthy to be fought.
But I'll not wrangle but with this talkative knife.
CUCHULAIN.
Put up your sword; I am not mocking you.
I'd have you for my friend, but if it's not
Because you have a hot heart and a cold eye,
I cannot tell the reason.
[_To CONCHUBAR. _] He has got her fierceness,
And nobody is as fierce as those pale women.
But I will keep him with me, Conchubar,
That he may set my memory upon her
When the day's fading. --You will stop with us,
And we will hunt the deer and the wild bulls;
And, when we have grown weary, light our fires
Between the wood and water, or on some mountain
Where the shape-changers of the morning come.
The High King there would make a mock of me
Because I did not take a wife among them.
Why do you hang your head?
It's a good life:
The head grows prouder in the light of the dawn,
And friendship thickens in the murmuring dark
Where the spare hazels meet the wool-white foam.
But I can see there's no more need for words
And that you'll be my friend from this day out.
CONCHUBAR.
He has come hither not in his own name
But in Queen Aoife's, and has challenged us
In challenging the foremost man of us all.
CUCHULAIN.
Well, well, what matter?
CONCHUBAR.
You think it does not matter;
And that a fancy lighter than the air,
A whim of the moment has more matter in it.
For having none that shall reign after you,
You cannot think as I do, who would leave
A throne too high for insult.
CUCHULAIN.
Let your children
Re-mortar their inheritance, as we have,
And put more muscle on. --I'll give you gifts,
But I'd have something too--that arm-ring, boy.
We'll have this quarrel out when you are older.
YOUNG MAN.
There is no man I'd sooner have my friend
Than you, whose name has gone about the world
As if it had been the wind; but Aoife'd say
I had turned coward.
CUCHULAIN.