"Which be they?" asks Conaire.
"Easy to say," quoth she. "Samon, Sinand, Seisclend, Sodb, Caill, Coll, Díchóem, Dichiúil, Díthím, Díchuimne, Dichruidne, Dairne, Dáríne, Déruaine, Egem, Agam, Ethamne, Gním, Cluiche, Cethardam, Níth, Némain, Nóennen, Badb, Blosc, B[l]oár, Huae, óe Aife la Sruth, Mache, Médé, Mod."
On one foot, and holding up one hand, and breathing one breath she sang all that to them from the door of the house.
"I swear by the gods whom I adore," says Conaire, "that I will call thee by none of these names whether I shall be here a long or a short time."
"What dost thou desire?" says Conaire.
"That which thou, too, desirest," she answered.
"'Tis a tabu of mine," says Conaire, "to receive the company of one woman after sunset."
"Though it be a tabu," she replied, "I will not go until my guesting come at once this very night."
"Tell her," says Conaire, "that an ox and a bacon-pig shall be taken out to her, and my leavings: provided that she stays tonight in some other place."
"If in sooth," she says, "it has befallen the king not to have room in his house for the meal and bed of a solitary woman, they will be gotten apart from him from some one possessing generosity--if the hospitality of the Prince in the Hostel has departed."