‘Another great company has come to Slemon Midi to the hill,’ said Mac Roth.  ’A warrior thick-necked, fleshy, fair, before that company.  Hair black and curly on him, and he purple, blue-faced; eyes grey, shining, in his head; a cloak grey, lordly (?), about him; a brooch of white silver therein; a black shield with a boss of bronze on it; a spear, covered with eyes, with ——­ (?), in his hand; a shirt, braided(?), with red ornamentation, about him; a sword with a hilt of ivory over his dress outside.’

‘Who is that, O Fergus?’ said Ailill.

’He is the putting of a hand on a skirmish; he is the wave of a great sea that drowns little streams; he is a man of three shouts; he is the judgment of ——­ of enemies, who so comes,’ said Fergus; ‘that is, Munremar Mac Gerrcind, from Moduirn in the north.’

‘Another great company has come there to the hill to Slemon Midi,’ said Mac Roth.  ’A company very fair, very beautiful, both in number and strife and raiment.  It is fiercely that they make for the hill; the clatter of arms which they raised in going on their course shook the host.  A warrior fair, excellent, before the company.  Most beautiful of men his form, both in hair and eyes and fear, both in raiment and form and voice and whiteness, both in dignity and size and beauty, both in weapons and knowledge and adornment, both in equipment and armour and fitness, both in honour and wisdom and race.’

‘This is his description,’ said Fergus; ’he is the brightness of fire, the fair man, Fedlimid, who so comes there; he is fierceness of warriors, he is the wave of a storm that drowns, he is might that is not endured, with triumphs out of other territories after destruction (?) of his foes; that is Fedlimid ——­ ——­ there.’

‘Another company has come there to the hill to Slemon Midi,’ said Mac Roth, ’which is not fewer than a warlike cantred (?).  A warrior great, brave, grey, proper, ——­, in front of it.  Hair black, curly, on him; round eyes, grey(?), very high, in his head.  A man bull-like, strong, rough; a grey cloak about him, with a brooch of silver on his arm; a shirt white, hooded, round him; a sword at his side; a red shield with a hard boss of silver on it.  A spear with three rivets, broad, in his hand.’

‘Who is that, O Fergus?’ said Ailill.

’He is the fierce glow of wrath, he is a shaft (?) of every battle; he is the victory of every combat, who has so come there, Connad Mac Mornai from Callann,’ said Fergus.

‘Another company has come to the hill at Slemon Midi,’ said Mac Roth.  ’It is the march of an army for greatness.  The leader who is in front of that company, not common is a warrior fairer both in form and attire and equipment.  Hair bushy, red-yellow, on him; a face proper, purple, well-proportioned; a face narrow below, broad above; lips red, thin; teeth shining, pearly; a voice clear, ringing; a face fair, purple, shapely; most beautiful of the forms of men; a purple cloak folded round him; a brooch with full adornment of gold, over his white breast; a bent shield with many-coloured rivets, with a boss of silver, at his left; a long spear, grey-edged, with a sharp javelin for attack in his hand; a sword gold-hilted, of gold, on his back; a hooded shirt with red ornamentation about him.’