"There came still another company to the same mound in Slane of Meath," continued macRoth. [3]"A company most fair to look upon, most notable both in numbers and in attendance and apparel.[3] It is indeed no lying word, it is with might and storm they gained the hill, so that [4]with the clash of arms they made at the approach of that company[4] they startled the hosts that had arrived there before them. A man, comely and noble, in advance of that band; most well-favoured to see of the men of the world, whether in shape or form or frame; [5]whether in hair or eyes or fearfulness; whether in voice or brightness or knowledge or adornment; whether in rank or wisdom or kindred;[5] whether in arms or apparel; whether in size or worth or beauty; whether in figure or valour or conduct." [6]"Who might that man be, O Fergus?" asked Ailill.[6] "Then it is surely no lying word," Fergus made answer: "A fitting saying is this, 'No fool 'mongst the naked'[a] is he who W. 5299. comes thither. He is the foe of all others; he is a power irresistible; the storm-wave that drowneth, the glitter of ice is that well-favoured man. Fedilmid [1]son of[1] [2]Ilar Cetach of Cualnge,[2] from Ellonn in the north, is he yonder, [3]with trophies from other lands after dealing destruction to his enemies."[3]
"Still another battalion came thither to the same hill in Slane of Meath," macRoth proceeded. [4]"It is the array of an army for greatness.[4] Not often is a warrior seen more handsome than the warrior that is in the front rank of that company. Bushy, red-yellow hair he wore; [5]his countenance comely, ruddy, well-formed;[5] his face [6]slender below,[6] broad above; a deep-blue-grey, beaming eye, and it flashing and laughing in his head; a well-set, shapely man, tall, slender below and broad above; red, thin lips he had; teeth shining and pearl-like; [7]a clear, ringing voice;[7] a white-skinned body; [8]most beautiful of the forms of men;[8] [9]a purple cloak wrapped around him;[9] a brooch of gold in the mantle over his breast; a [10]hooded[10] tunic of royal silk with a red hem of red gold he wore next to his white skin; a bright, [11]curved[11] shield with [12]wonderful,[12] [13]many-coloured[13] devious figures of beasts in red gold thereon [14]and with hollows of silver he bore at his left side;[14] a gold-hilted, inlaid sword [15]hanging from his neck[15] at his left side; a long, grey-edged spear W. 5313. along with a cutting bye-spear of attack, with thongs for throwing, with fastenings of silvered bronze, in his hand."
"But who might that man be?" asked Ailill of Fergus. "We know him full well," Fergus made answer. "He is half of a battle; he is the dividing[a] of combat; he is the wild rage of a watchhound, the man who is come thither; Rochad son of Fatheman, from Rigdonn in the north, is he yonder. [1]Your son-in-law is he[1]; [2]he wedded your daughter, namely Finnabair,[2] [3]without dower, and he brought neither marriage-gift nor bride-price to her."[3]
"Another battalion there came to the same hill in Slane of Meath," continued macRoth. "A stalwart, thick-thighed, [4]gross-calved[4] warrior at the head of that company; little but every limb of him as stout as a man. Verily it is no lying word, he is a man down to the ground," said he. "Brown, bushy hair upon his head; a round-faced, ruddy countenance [5]covered with scars[5] he had; a flashing, proud eye in his head; a splendid, dexterous man was there, in this wise: Accompanied by black-haired, black-eyed youths; with a red, flaming banner; [6]with terror and fearsomeness; with wonderful appearance, both of arms and apparel and raiment and countenance and splendour; with converse of heroes; with champions' deeds;[6] with wilful rashness, so that they seek to rout overwhelming numbers outside of equal combat, [7]with their wrath upon foes, with raids into hostile lands,[7] with the violence of assault upon them, without having aught assistance from W. 5327. Conchobar. [1]It is no lying word, stiffly they made their march, that company to Slane of Meath."[1]
"But, who might he be?" asked Ailill of Fergus. "Aye then we know him," Fergus made answer. "A thirst for valour and prowess; a thirst for madness and fury; [2]a man of strength and of courage, of pride and of greatness of heart[2] is he that came thither. The welding of hosts and of arms; the point of battle and of slaughter of the men of the north of Erin, mine own real foster-brother himself, Fergus son of Letè, [3]the king[3] from Linè in the north, is the man yonder!"
"Still another [4]great, fierce[4] company came to the same hill in Slane of Meath," macRoth continued. [5]"A battle-line with strange garments upon them,[5] steadfast, without equal. A [6]comely,[6] handsome, [7]matchless,[7] untiring warrior in the van of this company; [8]the flower of every form, whether as regards hair, or eye, or whiteness; whether of size, or followers or fitness.[8] Next to his skin a blue, narrow-bordered cloth, with strong, woven and twisted hoops of silvered bronze, with becoming, sharp-fashioned buttons of red gold on its slashes and breast-borders; a [9]green[9] mantle, pieced together with the choicest of all colours, [10]folded about him;[10] [11]a brooch of pale gold in the cloak over his breast;[11] five circles of gold, *LL. fo. 99a. that is, his shield, he bore on him; a tough, obdurate, straight-bladed sword for a hero's handling hung high on his left side. A straight, fluted spear, flaming red [12]and venomous[12] in his hand." "But, who might that be?" asked W. 5342. Ailill of Fergus. "Truly, we know him well," Fergus made answer. [1]"Fiery is the manner of the warlike champion who has so come thither.[1] The choice flower of royal poets is he. He is the rush on the rath; he is the way to the goal; fierce is his valour, the man that came thither; Amargin son of the smith Ecetsalach ('the Grimy'), the noble poet from the Buas in the north, is he."
"There came yet another company there to the same hill in Slane of Meath," continued macRoth. "A fair, yellow-haired hero in the front rank of that band. Fair was the man, both in hair and eye and beard and eyebrows and apparel; a rimmed shield he bore; a gold-hilted, overlaid sword on his left side; in his hand, a five-pointed spear that reflected its glare over the entire host, [2]and a hollow lance in his hand. Hero-like was his coming!"[2]
"But who was that man?" asked Ailill of Fergus. "In sooth, we know him well," Fergus made answer. "Cherished, in truth, is that warrior by the people, he that to us is come thither; cherished, the stout-blow-dealing beast; cherished, the bear of great deeds against foes, [3]with the violence of his attack.[3] Feradach Finn Fectnach ('the Fair and Righteous') from Nemed ('the Grove') in Sliab Fuait in the north, is the one that is come there."
[4]"Another company there came to the mound in Slane of Meath," continued macRoth. "Three bold, high-spirited youths of noble countenance, [5]fiery and noble,[5] in the front rank of that company. Three cloaks of the one colour [6]they wore folded[6] upon them; [7]three close shorn, blae-yellow heads; three gold brooches over their arms; three sleeved tunics with embroidery of red gold, girded around them;[7] three shields wholly alike they bore; [8]three gold-hilted swords on their shoulders;[8] three five-pointed, W. 5360. [1]broad and grey-green[1] spears in their [2]right[2] hands." "Who were those men there?" Ailill asked. "I know," Fergus answered; "the three princes of Roth, the three champions of Colph, the three of Midluachair, great in achievements, three seasoned warriors of the east of Erin, to wit, the three sons of Fiachna in quest of their bull are there, even Ros and Darè and Imchad, for theirs was the possession of the Brown Bull of Cualnge. Even had they come alone, they would have offered you battle in defence of their bull and their drove, even though before them the enemy should not be routed."[4]
"Yet another company there came thither to the same hill in Slane of Meath," said macRoth. "Two [3]fair,[3] tender, young warriors at the head of that company, [5]and both wholly alike. Brown, curly hair on the head of one of them; fair, yellow hair on that of the other;[5] two green cloaks wrapped about them; two bright-silver brooches in the cloaks over their breasts; two tunics of smooth yellow silk next to their skin; bright-hilted swords on their belts; [6]two bright shields with devious figures of beasts in silver;[6] two five-pronged spears with windings of pure bright silver in their hands. Moreover, their years were nigh the same. [7]Together they lifted their feet and set them down again, for it was not their way for either of them to lift up his feet past the other."[7]