Cuchulain

Old herring--You whip off heads! Why, then Whip off your own, for it seems you can clap it on again. Or else go down in the sea, go down in the sea, I say, Find that old juggler Manannan and whip his head away; Or the Red Man of the Boyne, for they are of your own sort, Or if the waves have vexed you and you would find a sport Of a more Irish fashion, go fight without a rest A caterwauling phantom among the winds of the west. But what are you waiting for? into the water, I say! If there's no sword can harm you, I've an older trick to play, An old five-fingered trick to tumble you out of the place; I am Sualtim's son Cuchulain--what, do you laugh in my face?