a fierce and violent blast of wind arose; and it shook the whole hill on which the castle stood, and the house of wood, wherein the guests were, quaked at the blast; so that the shields fell from their hooks, and the spears from their places, and the tables were moved like the leaves in a forest of oak. The young men were astonished, and Gerg demanded of the Druid who attended upon Mani what this wind should betide. And to him answered Ollgaeth the Druid of Mani—
"Truly," said he, "to me it seemeth that no good omen is this with which we have come hither for the courtship this evening. Conor shall come upon you; beware of his coming, and at the dawn of the morning Maev shall be defeated in battle, whilst you all shall perish, as many as are within this house." And he made thereupon the following poem—a model for future times:—
I
The storm wind roars, its warning's clear, with dread we
hear the cry;
Pierced through the loins by charioteer, the kingly Gerg
must die,
Slain by the javelin's cast; a deed of poison! to and fro
Fly lances, dripping shoulders bleed; to triumph rides
the foe!
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