e weak."

"If you will listen to me at last, now you are quiet," said Amergin, "I
am able to bring up a child like a king. The people praise my honour, my
bravery, my courage, my wisdom; they praise my good luck, my age, my
speaking, my name, my courage, and my race. Though I am a fighter, I am
a poet; I am worthy of the King's favour; I overcome all the men who
fight from their chariots; I owe thanks to no one except Conchubar; I
obey no one but the King."

Then Sencha said, "Let Finchoem keep the child until we come to Emain,
and Morann, the judge, will settle the question when we are there."

So the men of Ulster set out for Emain, Finchoem having the child with
her. And when they came there Morann gave his judgment. "It is for
Conchubar," he said, "to help the child to a good name, for he is next
of kin to him; let Sencha teach him words and speaking; let Fergus hold
him on his knees; let Amergin be his tutor." And he said, "This child
will be praised by all, by chariot drivers and fighters, by kings and by
wise men; he shall be loved by many men; he will avenge all your wrongs;
he will defend your fords; he will fight all your battles."

And so it was settled. And the child was left until he should come to
sensible years with his mother Dechtire and with her husband Sualtim.
And they brought him up upon the plain of Muirthemne, and the name he
was known by was Setanta, son of Sualtim.

The Boyhood of Cuchulain

Dectera, one of the sisters of Conchubar Mac Nessa, married a prince
whose patrimony lay along the shores of the Muirnict, and whose capital
was Dun Dalgan. They had one child, a boy, whom they named Setanta.

As soon as Setanta was able to understand the stories and conversation
of those around him, he evinced a passion for arms and the martial life,
which was so premature and violent as to surprise all who knew him. His
thoughts for ever ran on the wars and achievements of the Red Branch. He
knew all the knights by name, the appearance and bearing of each, and
what deeds of valour they had severally performed. Emain Macha, the
capital of the Clanna Rury, was never out of his mind. He saw for ever
before his mind its moats and ramparts, its gates and bridges, its
streets filled with martial men, its high-raised Duns and Raths, its
branching roads, over which came the tributes of wide Ulla to the High
King. He had seen his father's tribute driven thither, and had even
longed to be one of the f