need dread from
Ulster's men. But speak truth, O Fedelm:--

"Tell, O Fedelm, prophet-maid,
How beholdest thou our host?"

"Crimson-red from blood they are;
I behold them bathed in red!"

[6-6] LU. 44.

[7-7] Eg. 1782.

[8-8] Eg. 1782.

[9]"That is no true augury.[9] Cuscraid Mend ('the Stammerer') of Macha,
Conchobar's son, is in Inis Cuscraid ('Cuscraid's Isle') in his 'Pains.'
Thither fared my messengers; naught need we fear from Ulster's men. But
speak truth, O Fedelm:--

[W.233.] "Tell, O Fedelm, prophet-maid,
How beholdest thou our host?"

"Crimson-red from blood they are;
I behold them bathed in red!"

[9-9] LU. 48.

"Eogan, Durthacht's son, is in Rath Airthir ('the Eastern Rath') in his
'Pains.' Thither went my messengers. Naught need we dread from Ulster's
men. But speak truth, O Fedelm:--

"Tell, O Fedelm, prophet-maid,
How beholdest thou our host?"

"Crimson-red from blood they are;
I behold them bathed in red!"

"Celtchar, Uthechar's son, is in his fort [1]at Lethglas[1] in his 'Pains,'
[2]and a third of the Ulstermen with him.[2] Thither fared my messengers.
Naught have we to fear from Ulster's men. [3]And Fergus son of Roig son of
Eochaid is with us here in exile, and thirty hundred with him.[3] But speak
truth, O Fedelm:--

"Tell, O Fedelm, prophet-maid,
How beholdest thou our host?"

"Crimson-red from blood they are;
I behold them bathed in red!"

[1-1] LU. 50.

[2-2] LU. 49.

[3-3] LU. 50-51.

"Meseemeth this not as it seemeth to thee," quoth Medb, "for when Erin's
men shall assemble in one place, there quarrels will arise and broils,
contentions and disputes amongst them about the ordering of themselves in
the van or rear, at ford or river, over who shall be first at killing a
boar or a stag or a deer or a hare. But, [4]look now again for us and[4]
speak truth, O Fedelm:--

"Tell, O Fedelm, prophet-maid,
How beholdest thou our host?"

"Crimson-red from blood they are;
I behold them bathed in red!"

[4-4] LU. 55.

Therewith she began to prophesy and to foretell the coming of Cuchulain to
the men of Erin, and she chanted a lay:--

[W.255.] "[a]Fair, of deeds, the man I see;
Wounded sore is his fair skin;
On his brow shines hero's light;
Victory's seat is in his face!

"Seven gems of champions brave
Deck the centre of his orbs;