"Easily done. Mael and Mlithe and Admlithe--those are the king of Erin's three jesters. By each of them a man will perish, and among them they will share a man's triumph." "Woe to him that will wreak the Destruction!" says Lomna, etc. "And after that whom sawest thou there?" THE ROOM OF THE CUPBEARERS "There I beheld a room with a trio in it. Three grey-floating mantles they wore. There was a cup of water in front of each man, and on each cup a bunch of watercress. Liken thou that, O Fer rogain!" "Easily done. Black and Dun and Dark: they are the King of Tara's three cupbearers, to wit, the sons of Day and Night. And after that, whom sawest thou there?" THE ROOM OF NÁR THE SQUINTER-WITH-THE-LEFT-EYE "There I beheld a one-eyed man asquint with a ruinous eye. A swine's head he had on the fire, continually squealing. Liken thou that, O Fer rogain!" "Easy for me to name the like. He is Nár the Squinter with the left eye, the swineherd of Bodb of the Elfmound on Femen, 'tis he that is over the cooking. Blood hath been spilt at every feast at which he has ever been present." * * * * * "Rise up, then, ye champions!" says Ingcél, "and get you on to the house!" With that the reavers march to the Hostel, and made a murmur about it. "Silence a while!" says Conaire, "what is this?" "Champions at the house," says Conall Cernach. "There are warriors for them here," answers Conaire. "They will be needed tonight," Conall Cernach rejoins. Then went Lomna Drúth before the host of reavers into the Hostel. The doorkeepers struck off his head. Then the head was thrice flung into the Hostel, and thrice cast out of it, as he himself had foretold. Then Conaire himself sallies out of the Hostel together with some of his people, and they fight a combat with the host of reavers, and six hundred fell by Conaire before he could get to his arms. Then the Hostel is thrice set on fire, and thrice put out from thence: and it was granted that the Destruction would never have been wrought had not work of weapons been taken from Conaire. Thereafter Conaire went to seek his arms, and he dons his battle-dress, and falls to plying his weapons on the reavers, together with the band that he had. Then, after getting his arms, six hundred fell by him in his first encounter. After this the reavers were routed. "I have told you," says Fer rogain son of Donn Désa, "that if the champions of the men of Erin and Alba attack Conaire at the house, the Destruction will not be wrought unless Conaire's fury and valour be quelled." "Short will his time be," say the wizards along with the reavers. This was the quelling they brought, a scantness of drink that seized him. Thereafter Conaire entered the house, and asked for a drink. "A drink to me, O master Mac cecht!" says Conaire.