e. by their lampoons).] to him, that they might satirise
him and mock him and put him to ridicule, that he might not find a
place for his head in the world, until he should come to the tent
of Medb and Ailill on the Foray. Fer Diad came with those
messengers, for the fear of their bringing shame on him.

Findabair, the daughter of Medb and Ailill, was put on one side of
him: it is Findabair who put her hand on every goblet and on every
cup of Fer Diad; it is she who gave him three kisses at every cup
of them; it is she who distributed apples right frequent over the
bosom of his tunic. This is what she said: that he, Fer Diad, was
her darling and her chosen wooer of the men of the world.

When Fer Diad was satisfied and happy and very joyful, Medb said:

'Ale! O Fer Diad, do you know why you have been summoned into this
tent?'

'I do not know indeed,' said Fer Diad; 'except that the nobles of
the men of Ireland are there. What is there less fitting for me to
be there than for any other good warrior?'

'It is not that indeed,' said Medb; 'but to give you a chariot
worth three sevens of cumals [See previous note about _cumal_.] and
the equipment of twelve men, and the equal of Mag Murthemne from
the arable land of Mag Ai; and that you should be in Cruachan
always, and wine to be poured for you there; and freedom of your
descendants and of your race for ever without tribute or tax; my
leaf-shaped brooch of gold to be given to you, in which there are
ten score ounces and ten score half-ounces, and ten score _crosach_
and ten score quarters; Findabair, my daughter and Ailill's
daughter, for your one wife, and you shall get my love if you need
it over and above.'

'He does not need it,' said every, one: 'great are the rewards and
gifts.'

'That is true,' said Fer Diad, 'they are great; and though they are
great, O Medb, it is with you yourself they will be left, rather
than that I should go against my foster-brother to battle.'

'O men,' said she, said Medb (through the right way of division and
setting by the ears), 'true is the word that Cuchulainn spoke,' as
if she had not heard Fer Diad at all.

'What word is this, O Medb?' said Fer Diad.

'He said indeed,' said she, 'that he would not think it too much
that you should fall by him as the first fruits of his prowess in
the province to which he should come.'

'To say that was not fitting for him. For it is not weariness or
cowardice that he has ever known in m