"
"Then," quoth Ingcel, "I said, gazing at him:
I see a high, stately prince, etc.
I see a famous king, etc.
I see his white prince's diadem, etc.
I see his two blue-bright cheeks, etc.
I see his high wheel ... round his head ... which is over his
yellow-curly hair.
I see his mantle red, many-coloured, etc.
I see therein a huge brooch of gold, etc.
I see his beautiful linen frock ... from ankle to kneecaps.
I see his sword golden-hilted, inlaid, its in scabbard of
white silver, etc.
I see his shield bright, chalky, etc.
A tower of inlaid gold," etc.
Now the tender warrior was asleep, with his feet in the lap of one of
the two men and his head in the lap of the other. Then he awoke out of
his sleep, and arose, and chanted this lay:
"The howl of Ossar (Conaire's dog) ... cry of warriors on the summit of
Tol Geisse; a cold wind over edges perilous: a night to destroy a king
is this night."
He slept again, and awoke thereout, and sang this rhetoric:
"The howl of Ossar .
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