[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;
    Naked are the spears he bears,
    And he hooks a red cloak round!

    “Noblest face is his, I see;
    He respects all womankind. 
    Young the lad and fresh his hue,
    With a dragon’s form in fight!

    “I know not who is the Hound,
    Culann’s hight,[b] [1]of fairest fame[1];
    But I know full well this host
    Will be smitten red by him!

    “Four small swords—­a brilliant feat—­
    He supports in either hand;
    These he’ll ply upon the host,
    Each to do its special deed!

    “His Gae Bulga,[c] too, he wields,
    With his sword and javelin. 
    Lo, the man in red cloak girt
    Sets his foot on every hill!

    “Two spears [2]from the chariot’s left[2]
    He casts forth in orgy wild. 
    And his form I saw till now
    Well I know will change its guise!