Part 10

“I took you with me, and cleansed you, and put herbs of the hill round about you, and there is not a night for two years I don’t burn a penny candle looking on you, and I believe that it is I should get her in marriage.”

The four spent the night pleasantly, telling one another everything; and in the morning when they arose, and the people who were at supper the night before were gathered together, the master did not recognise that Crooked-mouth was with him. But when Crooked-mouth told him that it was he was there, O’Daly bade him come with him, but he would not. He went with his brother and his sister and the other man to Scotland. And when they came to his father’s court, his father was banished by Faugauns and Blue-men; and he and the other people who were taking possession of his father’s court began; and he and they spent three nights and three days killing one another, and on the third day he had killed and banished them all. But when he and the cat met, the cat killed him and he killed the cat; and his brother was going everywhere that he killed, and at last he found him and the cat dead. And he searched his pocket and found in it the bottle of healing-water, and as he was drawing the cork from the bottle, some of the water fell on the dead man, and he arose alive again.

He went then with his sister and the other man who was in the place of husband to his sister; and they cleansed the king’s castle, and he brought his father and mother and their people home to the castle, and they were well from that out. Then he gave his sister in marriage to the man, who found himself and her on the day when the serpent drowned them. There came the priest of the pattens and the clerk of the table, and the pair were wedded.

He himself then went back to Erin, and married the daughter of the King of Erin, who was to be eaten by the giants, and the son of the King of Prussia was to save her.

[12] This contradicts what is stated on page 140.

_BEAUTY OF THE WORLD._

_Narrator, P. MINAHAN, Malinmore, Glencolumkille, co. Donegal._

There was a king then, and he had but one son. He was out hunting. He was going past the churchyard. There were four men in the churchyard and a corpse. There was debt on the corpse. The king’s son went in. He asked what was the matter. Said one of the men:

“The dead man is in our debt. I am not willing to bury the body, till the two sons who are here, promise to pay the debts.”

“We are not able to pay,” said one of them.

“I have five pounds,” said the king’s son; “I will give them to you to bury the body.”

He gave the five pounds. The body was buried. The king’s son went hunting. He went home in the evening. In the morning of the morrow there was snow. He went out hunting in the snow. He killed a black raven. He stood over it and looked at it. He said in his own mind he would never marry a woman whose head was not as black as the bird’s wing, and her skin as white as the snow, and her cheeks as red as the blood on the snow.

He went home. On the morning of the morrow, when he rose, he washed himself, and he went away to find the woman. When he was going for a time, he met with a red-haired young man. The young man saluted him. He asked him where he was going. The king’s son told him he was going to get one sight of that woman.

“It is better for you to hire me,” said the young man.

“What wages do you be asking?”

“Half of all we gain, to the end of a year and a day.”

The two went on with themselves till the evening came. Said the red man:

“There is a man related to me living in this wood below. Do you wait here till I go down to him.”

The red man went down to the house of the giant. The giant was sitting on a chair by the fire.

“Uncle, dear,” said the red man, “is it like this you are?”

“Yes, kinsman mine: what is coming to me?”

Said the red man: “The King of the prodigious Eastern World is coming up to kill you. Get out of the way as quick as you can.”

“I have an iron house outside there. Lock me into it.”

He locked the man in. He went to his master. He took his master up to the house of the giant. He got ready their supper. They went to rest. This was the giant’s cry in the morning. “Let them open.” The red man went to him. He asked him what was the matter.

“I am ready to perish with hunger. Let me out of this quickly.”

“I will not let you out,” said the red man, “till you tell me where the dark cloak is.”

“That is what I will never tell any one.”

“Well, if you like better not to tell, you will be there till you die.”

“Sooner than be here any longer, it is hanging in such a room.”

“I know where it is,” said the red man. “Be here as long as you like.”

When the giant heard that he would not get out, he took a jump out between two bars of the iron house. Two halves were made of him. Half fell outside and half inside. The red man went to the giant’s house. He got ready the breakfast. He and his master breakfasted. He took with them plenty of gold and silver, two horses and two saddles. They went till evening was there, and they went into another wood.

“I have an uncle,” said the red man, “living here. We shall get lodging to-night. Stay you here, till I go up.”

The red men went in to the giant’s house.

“Uncle, dear, is it here you are resting?”

“Yes, kinsman, dear: what is coming on me?”

“The King of the prodigious East is coming to kill you. Hide yourself as quick as you can.”

“I have an iron house here outside. Lock me into it.”

He locked him in. He brought his master. They made ready their supper. This was the giant’s cry in the morning, “Let them open.”

“I will not open,” said the red man, “till you tell me where are the slippery shoes.”

“They are under the bed.”

“I know myself where they are,” said the red man. “Stop there as long as you like.”

When the giant saw he was not to get out, he took a leap between two bars of the iron house. Two halves were made of him. Half fell inside, and half out.

The red man and his master went on travelling till evening. They came to another wood. There was a giant in the wood. The red man did to him as to the other giants. He took from him the sword of light, and plenty of gold and silver.

“Now,” said the red man to his master, “we shall be going home. We have got enough: go forward no farther. The woman you are approaching,—there is not a tree in the wood on which a man’s head is not hung, except one tree that is waiting for your head. We’ll return home.”

“I will never go home,” said the king’s son, “till I get one sight of that woman.”

They went forward till they came to the king’s house. The king made great welcome for them. They took their dinner. They spent the night in drinking and sport. When they were sitting to their supper she came down from the top of the house. Her head was as black as the bird’s wing, her skin as white as the snow, and her cheeks as red as the blood. She came to them, to the place where they were eating. She threw him a comb. Said she, “If you have not that comb to give me to-morrow, I will cut your head from you.”

He took hold of the comb. He put it down in his pocket. When they were going to bed the red man said, “See if you have the comb.” He put his fingers in his pocket. He had not the comb. His tears fell.

“It’s a pity I did not take your advice when you told me to return home.”

“Perhaps we shall get the better of her entirely,” said the red man. He was comforting him till he got him to bed. When he got him to bed he put on the dark cloak. He took with him the slippery shoes and the sword of light. He went out and stood in the back yard. She came out. She made down to the sea. She came to the sea. She threw a shell from her pocket. She made a boat of it. She went into the boat. She began rowing with two paddles, till she came in on an island that was in the sea. There was a great giant on the shore. “Have you got anything for me to-night?”

“I have not,” said she; “but I’ll have it to-morrow night. The son of the King of Erin is with me to-night. I shall have him for you to-morrow night.”

They went to the house. “Here is the comb I gave him to-night: it is yours.”

The giant opened a chest. He left the comb in the bottom of the chest. The red man was standing by the chest. When the giant left the comb in it, the red man took it and put it in his pocket. The house was full of goats. She went to milk the goats, till she milked one part of milk, and one part of blood. She got the supper ready. That was the stuff they took. The giant drew out an iron harrow and the skin of a white mare. They lay upon that till morning. When the day came she arose and went away drawing to the sea. The red man followed her. When she came to the boat she put it in the water. She went into it. The red man followed her on the sea. He was dashing water on her with the sword. She did not know what was delaying her. When they got home the red man went to his master. He asked him was he asleep. The king’s son said he was not.

“I have saved your head to-night. Here is the comb. Put it in your pocket.”

He put it in his pocket. The red man went to bed. When breakfast was ready in the morning the bell rang. They rose and they washed. When they were taking their breakfast she came down from the top of the house.

“Have you got the comb I gave you yesterday?”

He put his finger in his pocket. He threw the comb to her. When she saw he had the comb to get she went by with one sweep. She broke the half of what was on the table. “I have a third of your daughter won,” said the son of the King of Ireland.

“You have,” said the king; “you are the best champion ever came into my house.”

They went hunting that day. When they came home they were making fun together till supper-time. When they were taking their supper, the beautiful woman came to them. She threw a pair of scissors to him: “Unless you have them for me to-morrow, I will have your head.”

He took the scissors. He put them in his pocket. When they were going to bed said the red man to his master, “Look and see if you have the scissors.”

“I have not,” said his master.

“It’s bad for you to lose them.”

He went lamenting. The red man was comforting him till he got him to bed. When he slept, the red man went out. He put on the dark cloak and the slippery shoes, and took the sword of light. He stood outside the door. It was not long till she came out. She went down to the sea. She took a shell out of her pocket. She threw it on the sea and made a boat of it. She went to the island. The giant was on the shore.

“Have you got anything for me to-night?”

“I have not,” she said; “but I shall have the son of the King of Erin to-morrow night.” They went to the house. “Here are the scissors I gave him to-night. They are yours.”

The giant opened a chest. He put the scissors in the bottom of the chest. The red man was standing by. When the giant put the scissors in the chest, the red man took them and put them in his pocket.

They took their supper. The giant pulled out the harrow and the skin of the white mare. They lay upon that till morning. In the morning she went to the sea. The red man followed her. She put her boat on the water. She went into it. The red man followed her. He dashed in water on her with the sword. When they got home, the red man went to his master. He asked him was he asleep? The king’s son said he was not.

“I have saved your head this night. Here are the scissors for you.”

In the morning, when breakfast was ready, she came down from the top of the house. She was wet and dripping. She asked him had he the scissors to give her. He put his hand in his pocket. He threw her the scissors. She gave one sweep. She did not leave a bit of delf on the table she did not break in her rage. The king’s son said to the king he had two-thirds of his daughter won.

“You have,” said the king; “and I hope you will win her altogether. I am tired of her.”

They went hunting that day till night came. When supper was ready, she came down with a flight.

“Unless you have the last lips I shall kiss this night, I’ll have your head.”

“It’s hard for me,” said the king’s son, “to know what are the last lips you kiss.”

He was so troubled he did not know what to do. The red man was comforting him till he got him to bed. Then he went out. She came out. She went to the island. When she got in on the island the giant was bellowing on the shore.

“Have you anything for me?” said the giant.

“I will never give you anything more. You let the comb go; you let the scissors go: he had the two to give me in the morning. To-night I put on him obligations for something he won’t have to give me: that is, the last lips I shall kiss this night—and those are your lips.”

She went to milk the goats. She mixed a part of blood, and a part of milk. She made ready the supper. They ate and drank enough. He got the iron harrow and the skin of the white mare. They lay upon that till morning. When the day came upon the morrow she kissed him three times.

“Those are the last lips I shall kiss. He won’t have them to give me to-morrow.”

She rose and she went. When she went out the red man whisked the head off the giant. He put a knot in the ear. He threw it over his shoulder. He was on the shore as soon as she was. She went into the boat. She was drawing to home. He went out after her. Much as he drenched her the nights before, twice as much did he drench her this night. They went home. The red man came to his master in bed.

“Are you asleep, master?”

“I am not now,” said the king’s son.

“Here are the last lips she kissed last night, and, by my faith, they were ugly lips for a lady to be kissing.”

He took the head and threw it under the bed. When breakfast was ready in the morning she came down with a flight. She asked him,—

“Where are the last lips that I kissed last night?”

He put his hand under the bed. He took hold of the giant’s head. He threw it over at her feet. When she saw the giant was dead she gave one sweep, and she left not a chair or a table, nor anything on the table, she did not make smash of, so great was her anger.

“I have your daughter all won now,” said the king’s son.

“You have; and you are the best champion that came under my roof ever.”

“Well, we’ll go hunting to-day,” said the red man. They went hunting. The red man cut three bundles of rods. He made three flails. When they came home, “Now,” said he, “bring your daughter out here.”

The king brought her out. “Tie her hands and feet,” said the red man, “and leave her lying there.” The king left her lying. The red man gave one flail to the king, and one to his master.

“Strike you the first blow.”

The king struck the first blow. The three were striking her for a long time. A blaze of fire came out of her mouth. “Strike ye more. There is more in her.”

They struck till another lump of fire came out of her mouth. “Strike,” said the red man, “there is one more in her.”

They struck till the third came. “Now,” said the red man, “strike her no more. Those were three devils that came out of her. Loose her now; she is as quiet as any woman in the world.”

They loosed her and put her to bed. She was tired after the beating.

The priest of the pattens and the clerk of the bells came. The pair were married. The red man stayed with them a year and a day. A young son was born to them. When the day and the year were up the red man said it was time for him to be going.

“I don’t know what I’ll do after you,” said the kings son.

“Oh, make no delay,” said the red man; “the hire is just.”

“It is just,” said the king’s son.

He made two halves of all he gained since he hired him. “I will give you my child all,” said he; “I think it a pity to go to cut him in two.”

“I will not take him all,” said the red man; “I will not take but my bargain.”

The king’s son took a knife and was going to cut. “Stop your hand,” said the red man. “Do you remember the day you were going past the churchyard? There were four men in the churchyard. They had a corpse, and they were arguing about the debts that were on the corpse. They were not willing to bury the corpse till the debts were paid. You had five pounds. You gave them to bury the corpse. It was I was in the coffin that day. When I saw you starting on your journey I went to you to save you, you were that good yourself. I bestow on you your child and your money. Health be with you and blessing. You will set eyes upon me no more.”

_GRIG._

_Narrator, JACK GILLESPIE, Glen, Glencolumkille, co. Donegal._

Morrocha heard that Grig would live for ever, until he was killed without sin. He left home to put Grig to death; and he and his boy went one day on the hill, and there came on them rain and mist, and they went astray till night came; and the boy said to Morrocha, “We shall be out this night.”

“Oh, we shall not be,” said Morrocha. And he went and looked through the mist. “I think I see a turf stack: it is not possible we are near a house?” They went on for another bit, and Morrocha stood: “I think,” said he, “I hear the lowing of a cow.”

“We are near a house,” said the boy, “and we’ll get into the byre.”

Morrocha stood up, and he felt the breath of a man, and he came to him. “Bless you,” said Morrocha.

“My blessing to you,” said the man; “for if you did not bless me, I would have your head or you would have mine.”

“The death-bands on you,” said Morrocha; “sorry I am I came to ask shelter of you.”

Said Theegerje, “I have no shelter to give you. There is not a house nearer to you than the house of Grig, and that is seven miles away; and if you go there don’t tell that you have seen me. I am his servant boy, and Grig is lying on the one bed for seven years, and if you go there tell him you are the best doctor ever stepped.”

Morrocha went on then, and when he came to Grig’s house, said Grig, “If it were not that you are a good doctor, I would cut the head from you.”

“The death-bands on you,” said Morrocha; “sorry I am I came to cure you, above and beyond the report I heard about you at home and abroad.”

“And,” said Grig, “if I had Njuclas Croanj and my wife she would not be on your side.”

She was sleeping at Grig’s back in the bed, and he told her to get up, and she did not stir, and Grig lifted his hand and struck her on the jaw-bone and put it out of joint, and she awoke and she said, “What made you do that to me?”

“Be silent, woman; don’t you see the Irish doctor that’s come to cure me, and to see me hale and whole and as good as ever I was?”

“Musha, it’s a poor place he’s come to. There isn’t a wisp dry or wet that isn’t under your side, and we haven’t a stool better than the floor, or a chair better than a lump of clay, and we haven’t as much fire as would cook the wing of a butterfly.”

“Be silent, woman,” said Grig, “and take my old great coat and fix it under me.”

She did that; and Theegerje came, and a load of faggots with him, and he put down a good fire, and Morrocha got food to eat, and when he warmed himself at the fire he was weary-wet, and he was falling asleep.

“The death-bands on you,” said Grig; “you’re not like a doctor, for you’ve never asked what kind of sickness is on me.”

“It is not that,” said Morrocha; “but there are numbers of people, and their blood runs all together when they see strangers.”

“I am of them,” said Grig.

“I was not going to feel your pulse until you got quiet.”

When he became quiet Morrocha arose and felt his pulse.

“And great is the pity,” said he, “that a fine man like you should be lying in that place on one bed, and I will cure you. If you got potatoes and butter, and ate the full of your fist, you would not be long sick.”

“That’s true,” said Grig, “and if Njuclas Croanj gave me that I wouldn’t be lying here.”

Morrocha asked if they had any food in the house, and Njuclas Croanj said they had,—that Theegerje was just after coming from the mill, and that he had three pecks of oatmeal. And Morrocha bade them give him a peck of meal, and she gave him that. And he asked if there was any butter in the house, and she said there was. “Bring me down a crock of fresh butter,” said he. And she brought that to him, and Morrocha mixed the meal and the butter up together, and he asked for a spoon, and he thrust the spoon into the dish.

“Do you see that?” said he.

“I see,” said Grig.

“You won’t get it,” said Morrocha, “till you tell me what was the horde of people from whom you came.”

“I will tell you that,” said Grig. “I am Grig, son of Stubborn, son of Very-evil, Shanrach, son of Canrain, son of the Soldier, who made people loathe him greatly.”

“The death-bands on you,” said Morrocha. “Weren’t they ugly names they had?”

“The death-bands on you,” said Grig. “Isn’t it you that are ugly? They were prosperous, blessed.”

“I give in that they were,” said Morrocha. “It was ignorance made me say that. But what sort was that one, the son of the Soldier?”

“This,” said Grig, “was one of the fathers who came before me; and the snout of a pig was on his forehead; and he had two daughters, whose names were Maywa, the big, Molloy’s daughter, and the other’s Sahwa, the big, daughter of Cricheen, and they went to Cornelius (?) the tailor, and they gathered the clippings the tailors threw away, and they made up two lying books of them, and they failed to make the books agree upon one story; and they struck one another, and the father came, and they struck their father and cut him; and he went, and he in his blood, and the pig’s snout on his forehead, and there is not one that saw him, but they would flee from him in thousands. And at last they got the two books to agree upon one story, and when the clergy heard they had the books, they desired to possess them, and they would not give them. And they banished them; and if they banished them we will not leave the night supperless.”

“And now,” said Morrocha, “I will give you supper.” And he went and gave the dish to Grig, and he ate the peck of meal and the butter mixed together. “Now,” said the other, “thirst will come on you; the butter was saltish, but do not drink a drop until I gather herbs that will help your sickness.” He went and the boy, and Njuclas Croanj and Theegerje with them, and they put down a big pot full of water before they went, and Morrocha gathered the full of a basket of hellebore (?) and he gathered tormentil, and he went into the house with Njuclas Croanj and Theegerje, and he bade them put the herbs into the pot and boil them, and when he grew thirsty to give him some of the liquor to drink, and, if he wished, some of the stalks to eat, “and I will gather more, and will come in to see if he is getting better.”

And Grig took a great thirst, and he set to drinking what was in the pot, and he drank it all; and when Njuclas Croanj went in, Morrocha and his boy went away; and when Grig drank the last of what was in the pot, he burst as he lay on the bed; and when Njuclas Croanj saw he was dead, she followed Morrocha; but since the Lord was with Morrocha, he escaped.

_THE LITTLE GIRL WHO GOT THE BETTER OF THE GENTLEMAN._

_Narrator, P. M’GRALE, Achill, co. Mayo._

There was an old man with a little girl of seven years, and he was begging; and he came to a gentleman, and begged of him; and the gentleman said it would be better for him to go and earn wages than to be as he was—begging; and the man said he would go, and willingly, if he got any one to pay him, and the other said he would himself give him pay, and a house to live in for himself, and for the little girl to come to and wash and cook for him. He gave them the house, and they went to live in it.