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[ 6i J
ftood. Let Cuchulaid yield to him that
is flrong as a florm.
No. I will never yield to man.
Cuchulaid will conquer or die. Go,
Moran, take my fpear ; ftrike the Ihield
of Caithbait which hangs before the
gate. Jt never rings in peace. My he-
roes fliall hear on the hill.

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