She came and put one of her shoulders against the door-post of the house, casting the evil eye34 on the king and the youths who surrounded him in the Hostel. He himself addressed her from within.
‘Well, O woman,’ says Conaire, ‘if thou art a wizard, what seest thou for us?’
‘Truly I see for thee,’ she answers, ‘that neither fell35 nor flesh of thine shall escape from the place into which thou hast come, save what birds will bear away in their claws.’
‘It was not an evil omen we foreboded, O woman,’ saith he: ‘it is not thou that always augurs for us. What is thy name, O woman?’
‘Cailb,’ she answers.
‘That is not much of a name,’ says Conaire.
‘Lo (i.e. not dark, i.e. manifest), many are my names besides.’
‘Which be they?’ asks Conaire.
‘Easy to say,’ quoth she. ‘Samon, Sinand, Seisclend, Sodb, Caill, Coll, Díchóem, Dichiúil, Díthím, Díchuimne, Dichruidne, Dairne, Dáríne, Déruaine, Egem, Agam, Ethamne, Gním, Cluiche, Cethardam, Níth, Némain, Nóennen, Badb, Blosc, Bloár, Huae, óe Aife la Sruth, Mache, Médé, Mod.36’
On one foot, and holding up one hand, and breathing one breath she sang all that to them from the door of the house.
‘I swear by the gods whom I adore,’ says Conaire, ‘that I will call thee by none of these names whether I shall be here a long or a short time.’