falling down it entered his foot. 'The pin is a foe,' he said, 'but the cloak was a friend, warning me. I know what is to happen.' He stepped swiftly outside into the air. The women and the poets crowded round him, but no one could stop him now. He called to Laegh and bade him make ready the chariot. The witch disappeared. Now Niav herself spoke to him, saying: 'I would not have given thee leave to go, not for the world; it was one of Calatin's daughters who took my shape and deceived thee. O Cohoolin, stay with us, stay with me.' He could not believe her, and he repeated his orders to Laegh. The horses knew better; they refused to be caught. The Grey of Macha, who used always to come up at the shaking of the reins, now ran away, shedding tears of blood. Cohoolin himself ran after him, but not until Laegh had come round on the other side could he be caught.
Cohoolin would not stay for farewells. He leapt into his chariot and at once set out, though it seemed to him a sign of evil that his weapons fell down from their places when he mounted. Among the weapons were the three spears brought up from Hell by Calatin's children.
On the green of Emania he saw horses and armed men in thousands equipped for battle. He could hear the shouting of plunderers, and saw smoke darkening the sky, and flames making a witches' daylight. Presently he saw foemen upon the roof of the palace itself—they were murdering Emer—they tossed her out—everywhere there were flames, and he cried out bitterly because he had been kept back. Cathbad caught him up and told him that these men were made out of an old woman's apronful of dead leaves. 'But I also am enchanted,' muttered Cohoolin. 'Was I myself made out
