worsted, and they leaped at Conán, and two of Goll's sons rushed at them. Then Oscar himself leaped up, and with a hammer in either hand he went battering into the mêlée.
"I thank the gods," said Conán, "for the chance of killing yourself, Oscar."
These two encountered then, and Oscar knocked a groan of distress out of Conán. He looked appealingly at his brother Art og mac Morna, and that powerful champion flew to his aid and wounded Oscar. Oisín, Oscar's father, could not abide that; he dashed in and quelled Art Og. Then Rough Hair mac Morna wounded Oisín and was himself tumbled by mac Lugac, who was again wounded by Gara mac Morna.
The banqueting hall was in tumult. In every part of it men were giving and taking blows. Here two champions with their arms round each other's neck were stamping round and round in a slow, sad dance. Here were two crouching against each other, looking for a soft place to hit. Yonder a big-shouldered person lifted another man in his arms and threw him at a small group that charged him. In a retired corner a gentleman stood in a thoughtful attitude while he tried to pull out a tooth that had been knocked loose.
"You can't fight," he mumbled, "with a loose shoe or a loose tooth."
"Hurry up with that tooth," the man in front of him grumbled, "for I want to knock out another one."
Pressed against the wall was a bevy of ladies, some of whom were screaming and some laughing, and all of whom were calling on the men to go back to their seats.
Only two people remained seated in the hall.
