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 "Is it not enough for you, O Fionn," he said, "that you have put my life in danger many times before? And now you have done it again. Though the poets sing of you as a doer of great deeds, and say you know what has happened in the past and will happen in the future, I think they lie, for surely one who had so much wisdom would not get into the trouble you do. But if you'll take off these old witches' enchanted bonds, and let me escape from them, I shall believe there is some truth in what the bards say about you."

"Be silent, Conan," said Fionn, "and if your last hour is near, as possibly it is, do not spend it in reviling, but in thinking noble thoughts, as befits one of the Fianna Eireann. Why struggle against Fate, or rebel because Death draws near? When this life is over we shall go to the Happy Isles, where the Ever-Living Ones dwell, and where only the noble and wise have place."

Conan continued muttering to himself, but Fionn, wrapped in his own thoughts, paid no heed to him.

It was not long till some of the Fians came