"
With that all the Fians looked up and beheld upon the hillside a huge
man, looking like some Fomorian marauder, black-visaged and ugly, with
a sour countenance and ungainly limbs. On his back hung a dingy black
shield, on his misshapen left thigh he wore a sharp broad-bladed
sword; projecting over his shoulder were two long lances with broad
rusty heads. He wore garments that looked as if they had been buried
in a cinder heap, and a loose ragged mantle. Behind him there shambled
a sulky, ill-shapen mare with a bony carcase and bowed knees, and on
her neck a clumsy iron halter. With a rope her master hauled her
along, with violent jerks that seemed as if they would wrench her head
from her scraggy neck, and ever and anon the mare would stand and jib,
when the man laid on her ribs such blows from a strong ironshod cudgel
that they sounded like the surges of the sea beating on a rocky coast.
Short as was the distance from where the man and his horse were first
perceived to where Finn was standing, it was long ere they traversed
it. At last, however, he came into the presence of Finn and louted
before him, doing obeisance. Finn lifted his hand over him and bade
him speak, and declare his business and his name and rank. "I know
not," said the fellow, "of what blood I am, gentle or simple, but only
this, that I am a wight from oversea looking for service and wages.
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