“An’, Barney, who is the cock wid the purple comb?” “Why, the Orangemen to be sure. Isn’t purple their colour, the dirty thieves?” “An’ the Black Militia, Barney, who are they?” “I have gone far an’ near, through north an’ through south, up an’ down, by hill an’ hollow, till my toes were corned an’ my heels in griskins, but could find no one able to resolve that, or bring it clear out o’ the prophecy. They’re to be sogers in black, an’ all their arms an’ ’coutrements is to be the same colour; an’ farther than that is not known _as yet_.” “It’s a wondher _you_ don’t know it, Barney, for there’s little about prophecy that you haven’t at your finger ends.” “Three birds is to meet (Barney proceeded in a kind of recitative enthusiasm) upon the saes--two ravens an’ a dove--the two ravens is to attack the dove until she’s at the point of death; but before they take her life, an eagle comes and tears the two ravens to pieces, an’ the dove recovers. There’s to be two cries in the kingdom; one of them is to rache from the Giants’ Causeway to the centre house of the town of Sligo; the other is to rache from the Falls of Beleek to the Mill of Louth, which is to be turned three times with human blood; but this is not to happen until a man with two thumbs an’ six fingers upon his right hand happens to be the miller.” “Who’s to give the sign of freedom to Ireland?” “The little boy wid the red coat that’s born a dwarf, lives a giant, and dies a dwarf again! He’s lightest of foot, but leaves the heaviest foot-mark behind him. An’ it’s he that is to give the sign of freedom to Ireland!” “There’s a period to come when Antichrist is to be upon the earth, attended by his two body servants Gog and Magog. Who are they, Barney?” “They are the sons of Hegog an’ Shegog, or in other words, of Death an’ Damnation, and cousin-jarmins to the Devil himself, which of coorse is the raison why he promotes them.” “Lord save us! But I hope that won’t he in our time, Barney!” “Antichrist is to come from the land of Crame o’ Tarthar (Crim Tartary, according to Pastorini), which will account for himself an’ his army breathin’ fire an’ brimstone out of their mouths, according’ to the glorious Revelation of St John the Divine, an’ the great prophecy of Pastorini, both of which beautifully compromise upon the subject. The prophet of the Black Stone is to come, who was born never to prognosticate a lie. He is to be a mighty hunter, an’ instead of riding to his fetlocks _in_ blood, he is to ride _upon_ it, to the admiration of his times. It’s of him it is said ‘that he is to be the only prophet that ever went on horseback!’