But if he
did, Diarmuid made a cast at him with the hilt of his sword that was in
his hand yet, and dashed out his brains, so that he fell dead there and
then. And Rath na h-Amhrann, the Rath of the Sword Hilt, is the name of
that place to this day.
It was not long till Finn and the Fianna of Ireland came to the place,
and the pains of death were coming on Diarmuid at that time. "It is well
pleased I am to see you that way, Diarmuid," said Finn; "and it is a
pity all the women of Ireland not to be looking at you now, for your
great beauty is turned to ugliness, and your comely shape to
uncomeliness." "For all that, you have power to heal me, Finn," said
Diarmuid, "if you had a mind to do it." "What way could I heal you?"
said Finn. "Easy enough," said Diarmuid, "for the time you were given
the great gift of knowledge at the Boinn, you got this gift with it,
that any one you would give a drink to out of the palms of your hands
would be young and well again from any sickness after it." "You are not
deserving of that drink from me," said Finn. "That is not true," said
Diarmuid; "it is well I deserve it from you; for the time you went to
the house of Dearc, son of Donnarthadh, and your chief men with you for
a feast, your enemies came round the house, and gave out three great
shouts against you, and threw fire and firebrands into it. And you rose
up and would have gone out, but I bade you to stop there at drinking and
pleasure, for that I myself would go out and put them down.
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