They gave up the battle then for that time, and they went on over every hilly place and every stony place till they came to Loch Cuire in the west; and they came to the door of the hill of the Sidhe and knocked at it with the shafts of their long gold-socketted spears.  And there came young girls having yellow hair to the windows of the sunny houses; and Credhe herself, having three times fifty women with her, came out to speak with them.  “It is to ask you in marriage we are come,” said Finn.  “Who is it is asking for me?” said she.  “It is Cael, the hundred-killer, grandson of Nemhnain, son of the King of Leinster in the east.”  “I have heard talk of him, but I have never seen him,” said Credhe.  “And has he any poem for me?” she said.  “I have that,” said Cael, and he rose up then and sang his poem: 

“A journey I have to make, and it is no easy journey, to the house of Credhe against the breast of the mountain, at the Paps of Dana; it is there I must be going through hardships for the length of seven days.  It is pleasant her house is, with men and boys and women, with Druids and musicians, with cup-bearer and door-keeper, with horse-boy that does not leave his work, with distributer to share food; and Credhe of the Fair Hair having command over them all.

“It would be delightful to me in her dun, with coverings and with down, if she has but a mind to listen to me.

“A bowl she has with juice of berries in it to make her eyebrows black; crystal vats of fermenting grain; beautiful cups and vessels.  Her house is of the colour of lime; there are rushes for beds, and many silken coverings and blue cloaks; red gold is there, and bright drinking-horns.  Her sunny house is beside Loch Cuire, made of silver and yellow gold; its ridge is thatched without any fault, with the crimson wings of birds.  The doorposts are green, the lintel is of silver taken in battle.  Credhe’s chair on the left is the delight of delights, covered with gold of Elga; at the foot of the pleasant bed it is, the bed that was made of precious stones by Tuile in the east.  Another bed there is on the right, of gold and silver, it is made without any fault, curtains it has of the colour of the foxglove, hanging on rods of copper.

“The people of her house, it is they have delight, their cloaks are not faded white, they are not worn smooth; their hair is fair and curling.  Wounded men in their blood would sleep hearing the birds of the Sidhe singing in the eaves of the sunny house.

“If I have any thanks to give to Credhe, for whom the cuckoo calls, she will get better praise than this; if this love-service I have done is pleasing to her, let her not delay, let her say, ’Your coming is welcome to me.’

“A hundred feet there are in her house, from one corner to another; twenty feet fully measured is the width of her great door; her roof has its thatch of the wings of blue and yellow birds, the border of her well is of crystals and carbuncles.