IV. THE FORETELLINGa
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Dunn, Joseph
W. 194. When Medb was come to the place where her druid was, she craved light and augury of him. "Many there be," saith Medb, "who do part with their kinsmen and friends here to-day, and from their homes and their lands, from father and from mother; and unless unscathed every one shall return, upon me will they cast their sighs and their ban, 1for it is I that have assembled this levy.1 Yet there goeth not forth nor stayeth there at home any dearer to me than are we to ourselves. And do thou discover for us whether we ourselves shall return, or whether we shall never return."
And the druid made answer, "Whoever comes not, thou thyself shalt come." 2"Wait, then," spake the charioteer," let me wheel the chariot by the right,b that thus the power of a good omen may arise that we return again."2 Then the charioteer wheeled his chariot round and Medb went back 3again,3 when she espied a thing that surprised her: A lone virgin 4of marriageable age4 standing on the hindpole of a chariot a little way off drawing nigh her. And thus the maiden appeared: Weaving lace was she, and in her right hand was a bordering rod of silvered W. 204. bronze with its seven strips of red gold at the sides. A many-spotted green mantle around her; a bulging, strong-headed pin 1of gold1 in the mantle over her bosom; 2a hooded tunic, with red interweaving, about her.2 A ruddy, fair-faced countenance she had, 3narrow below and broad above.3 She had a blue-grey and laughing eye; 4each eye had three pupils.4 5Dark and black were her eyebrows; the soft, black lashes threw a shadow to the middle of her cheeks.5 Red and thin were her lips. Shiny and pearly were her teeth; thou wouldst believe they were showers of white pearls that had rained into her head. Like to fresh Parthian crimson were her lips. As sweet as the strings of lutes 6when long sustained they are played by master players' hands6 was the melodious sound of her voice and her fair speech.
As white as snow in one night fallen was the sheen of her skin and her body that shone outside of her dress. Slender and very white were her feet; rosy, even, sharp-round nails she had; 7two sandals with golden buckles about them.7 Fair-yellow, long, golden hair she wore; three braids of hair 8she wore; two tresses were wound8 around her head; the other tress 9from behind9 threw a shadow down on her calves. 10The maiden carried arms, and two black horses were under her chariot.10
Medb gazed at her. "And what doest thou here now, O maiden?" asked Medb. "I impart *LL. fo. 56a. to thee thine advantage and good fortune in thy gathering and muster of the four mighty provinces of Erin against the land of Ulster on the Raid for the Kine of Cualnge." "Wherefore doest thou this for me?" asked Medb. "Much cause have I. A bondmaid 'mid thy people am I." "Who of W. 220. my people art thou 1and what is thy name1?" asked Medb. "Not hard, in sooth, to say. The prophetess Fedelm, from the Sid ('the Fairy Mound') of Cruachan, 2a poetess of Connacht2 am I." 3"Whence comest thou?" asked Medb. "From Alba, after learning prophetic skill," the maiden made answer. "Hast thou the form of divination?"b "Verily, have I," the maiden said.3 4"Look, then, for me, how will my undertaking be." The maiden looked. Then spake Medb:—4
"Good now,
"Tell, O Fedelm, prophet-maid,
How beholdest thou our host?"
5Fedelm answered and spoke:5
"Crimson-red from blood they are;
I behold them bathed in red!"
6"That is no true augury,"6 said Medb. "Verily, Conchobar 7with the Ulstermen7 is in his 'Pains' in Emain; thither fared my messengers 8and brought me true tidings8; naught is there that we 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!"
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!"
"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 1at Lethglas1 in his 'Pains,' 2and a third of the Ulstermen with him.2 Thither fared my messengers. Naught have we to fear from Ulster's men. 3And 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!"
"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, 4look now again for us and4 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!"
Therewith she began to prophesy and to foretell the coming of Cuchulain to the men of Erin, and she chanted a lay:—
W. 255.
"aFair, of deeds, the man I see;
Wounded sore is his fair skin;