Then they all gazed upon him. They wondered and marvelled. Come, boys! cried Folloman, Conchobar’s son, the urchin insults us. Throw yourselves all on yon fellow, and his death shall come at my hands; for it is geis among you for any youth to come into your game, without first entrusting his safety to you. And do you all attack him together, for we know that yon wight is some one of the heroes of Ulster.