er about it, and it runs round along the shaft forward
to the point, and again it runs to the grip. And that troop sat
down on the left hand of the leader of the first troop, and it is
thus they sat down, with their knees to the ground, and the rims of
their shields against their chins. And I thought there was
stammering in the speech of the great fierce warrior who is the
leader of that company.

'Another company has come there,' said Mac Roth; 'its appearance is
vaster than a cantred; a man brave, difficult, fair, with broad
head, before it. Hair dark and curly on him; a beard long, with
slender points, forked, has he; a cloak dark-grey, ----, folded
round him; a leaf-shaped brooch of white metal over his breast; a
white, hooded shirt to his knees; a hero's shield with rivets on
him; a sword of white silver about his waist; a five-pointed spear
in his hand. He sat down in front of the leader of the first
troop.'

'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.

'I know indeed,' said Fergus, 'those companies. Conchobar, king of
a province of Ireland, it is he who has sat down on the mound of
sods. Sencha Mac Aililla, the orator of Ulster, it is he who has
sat down before him. Cuscraid, the Stammerer of Macha, son of
Conchobar, it is he who has sat down at his father's side. It is
the custom for the spear that is in his hand in sport yonder before
victory ---- before or after. That is a goodly folk for wounding,
for essaying every conflict, that has come,' said Fergus.

'They will find men to speak with them here,' said Medb.

'I swear by the god by whom my people swear,' said Fergus, 'there
has not been born in Ireland hitherto a man who would check the
host of Ulster.' [Note: Conjectural; the line is corrupt in the MS.]

'Another company has come there,' said Mac Roth. 'Greater than a
cantred its number. A great warrior, brave, with horror and terror,
and he mighty, fiery-faced, before it. Hair dark, greyish on him,
and it smooth-thin on his forehead. Around shield with engraved
edge on him, a spear five-pointed in his hand, a forked javelin
beside him; a hard sword on the back of his head; a purple cloak
folded round him; a brooch of gold on his arm; a shirt, white,
hooded, to his knee.'

'Who is that, O Fergus?' said Ailill.

'He is the putting of a hand on strife; he is a battle champion for
fight; he is judgment against enemies who has come there; that is,
Eogan Mac Durthacht, King of Fermoy is that,' said Fergus