On the morrow in the morning when he had gone away, she told Murrogh the way that it was possible to kill the giant. Murrogh seized the crowbar, put it down and lifted the beam with one spring and split it with one blow. Out runs the ram. ‘Where are you now, Fox of the Pleasant Crag?’ ‘Here I am, and the ram in my grip.’ Out came the duck from inside the ram. ‘Where are you now, Hawk from the Grey Wood?’ ‘Here I am, and the duck in my grip.’ And there was the egg running towards the loch. ‘Where are you now, Otter of the Endless Tempests?’ ‘Here am I, and the egg for you.’ Murrogh seized the egg. The Hard-cheeked Warrior was making for him, for he had heard the first bleating that the ram made. With the egg Murrogh struck him on the mole, and he fell. As he was dying, he said: ‘I solemnly bind you never to sleep a second night in one bed, nor to eat a second meal off one table, until you bring here the Shining Sword which is in