My fleet and faithful Boghmin, the night of the grave is gathering fast round me, and I address you for the last time. Speed to the rath at Almuin. Seek the golden-haired Muirrean, and tell her my chief sorrow on quitting life arises from the wrong she has suffered at my hands. Attend her diligently, and when my son is born flee away with him, and let him be brought up in the most secret places you can find. Otherwise the wrathful Tadg: Poet will destroy him. The wise Conmean, the Druid, has foretold his fortune, and that under his rule the fame of the Fianna of Erinn shall much exceed what it enjoys under mine. Entreat the forgiveness of the golden-haired Muirrean for me. Farewell !