But as to the men of
Ireland," he said, "every breath they breathe will be an increase of
strength and of bravery to them; and if they are seven years in the
battle they will never be any way tired."
Then Lugh asked his two witches, Bechulle and Dianan: "What power can
you bring to the battle?" "It is easy to say that," they said. "We will
put enchantment on the trees and the stones and the sods of the earth,
till they become an armed host against the Fomor, and put terror on them
and put them to the rout."
Then Lugh asked Carpre, the poet, son of Etain, what could he do. "It is
not hard to say that," said Carpre. "I will make a satire on them at
sunrise, and the wind from the north, and I on a hill-top and my back to
a thorn-tree, and a stone and a thorn in my hand. And with that satire,"
he said, "I will put shame on them and enchantment, the way they will
not be able to stand against fighting men."
Then he asked Goibniu the Smith what would he be able to do. "I will do
this," he said. "If the men of Ireland stop in the battle to the end of
seven years, for every sword that is broken and for every spear that is
lost from its shaft, I will put a new one in its place. And no
spear-point that will be made by my hand," he said, "will ever miss its
mark; and no man it touches will ever taste life again. And that is more
than Dolb, the smith of the Fomor, can do," he said.
"And you, Credne," Lugh said then to his worker in brass, "what help can
you give to our men in the battle?" "It is not hard to tell that," said
Credne, "rivets for their spears and hilts for their swords and bosses
and rims for their shields, I will supply them all.
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