" And Duban Donn, great-grandson of the King of Tuathmumhain,
was there listening to him, and it is what he said: "By my oath,
Fergus," he said, "all you are saying is true, for there is not a son of
a king or of a lord is better in the battle than Duban, son of Cas; and
I will go to my own death if I do not go beyond him." With that he went
rushing through the battle like flames over a high hill that is thick
with furze. Nine times he made a round of the battle, and he killed nine
times nine in every round.
"Who is best in the battle now?" said Finn, after a while. "It is Duban
Donn that is after going from us," said Fergus. "For there has been no
one ahead of him since he was in his seventh year, and there is no one
ahead of him now." "Rise up and praise him that his courage may be the
greater," said Finn. "It is right to praise him," said Fergus, "and the
foreigners running before him on every side as they would run from a
heavy drenching of the sea." So Fergus praised him for a while, and he
went back then to Finn.
"Who is best in the battle now?" said Finn. "It is Osgar is best in it
now," said Fergus, "and he is fighting alone against two hundred Franks
and two hundred of the men of Gairian, and the King of the Men of
Gairian himself. And all these are beating at his shield," he said, "and
not one of them has given him a wound but he gave him a wound back for
it." "What way is Caoilte, son of Ronan?" said Finn. "He is in no great
strait after the red slaughter he has made," said Fergus.
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