Transcript

Bhí fear fadó ann agus sé hainm a bhí air Mac Rí in Éirinn. Bhí sé ag cúirtéireacht le bean. Bean uasal, Iníon Rí na Gréige. Agus tháinig an Fathach Mór as an Domhan Thiar agus ghoid sé Iníon Rí Gréige. Agus bhí uaigneas anois ar Mhac Rí in Éirinn nuair a bhí an comrádaí imithe uaidh. Agus bhíodh sé ag goil amach le gunna chuile lá ag foghléireacht. Ach an lá seo a ghabh sé amach chonaic sé faoileán mór insa bpáirc amach ón teach mór.

"By gob," a deir sé, "dhá bhféadfainn sin a mharú bhí liom."

Chaith sé leis an bhfaoileán agus bhris sé a sciathán. Agus rug sé ar an bhfaoileán agus thug sé isteach ag an rí é. "Sin é an t-éan is breácha," a deir sé, "a chonaic mé ariamh."

"Ó, sé," a deir an rí. "Sé an murdar é a mharú. Caithfidh muid é sin," a deir sé, "cliath a chur leis agus é a bheathú go maith, agus b'fhéidir go dtiocfadh sé aige féin. Ní bheidh aon éan sa domhan chomh breá leis."

Sé an capall marcaíochta a bhíodh ag Mac Rí in Éirinn ag goil ag fiach agus fionnscaradh an faoileán. Scaradh sé a dhá chois air agus d'éiríodh an faoileán san aer go n-éiríodh sé tuairim deich slataí ar airde nó mar sin (...)adh sé na claitheachaí agus geataí nó rud ar bith dhá mbeadh insa mbealach. Ní raibh aon... aon chapall marcaíocht sa domhan ariamh ba bhreácha ná é.

Aon lá amháin bhí sé ag tíocht abhailí. D'éirigh an faoileán ins an aer agus níor stop sé gur bhuail sé a dhroim thuas ins na clouds. Agus níor stop sé gur leaindeáil sé sa Domhan Thiar aigeána[1] mháthair, cailleach bhradach a raibh fiaclaí inti chomh fada le crann daraí. An chéad duine a chonaic sé ag an tsráid Iníon Rí Gréige. Rinne sí comhartha dhó gan ligeachtáil air féin gur aith(nigh) sé ar chor ar bith í.

Ach, by gob, nuair a (rug) sé (ag an) doras, Mac Rí in Éirinn, "Tabhair do léim, a Mhic Rí in Éirinn," a deir sé, "isteach ansin."

Chaoch sise a súil air gan a dhéanamh. Ghabh sé isteach gan tabhairt aird ar bith ar an Fathach Mór. Ach ar ball d'insigh Iníon Rí Gréigean dó dhá dtugadh sé léim go rabh tairní insa bhfardoras agus go ngabhfadh siad síos ina chloigeann.

Nuair a bhí siad scaitheamh maith istigh dúirt Iníon Rí Gréigean, "Tá sé in am," a deir sí, "cóir dhinnéir a chur ar an duine bocht seo. Tá ocras air."

"Más áil leat sin," a deir an chailleach, "tabhair stiall dhon arán donn atá ansin dó," a deir sí, "agus deoch dhon (tríomhadh) leann agus go mba mó an t-olc a dhéanfas sin dó, ná an mhaith."

Ní dhearna Iníon Rí Gréigean sin. Thug sí an t-arán ab fhearr bhí sa teach dhó agus thug sí an leann ab fhearr a bhí sa teach dhó. Ach ar ball, tháinig Mac Rí in Éirinn 'uige.

"Bhuel anois, a Mhic Rí in Éirinn," a deir sé, "tá jab oibre agamsa dhuit amáireach. Agus mar' ndéanfaidh tú é... mar' ndéanfaidh tú é," a deir sé, "bainfidh mise an ceann agus an coiméad beaite dhaot."

Translation

There was once a man and his name was the King's Son in Ireland. He was courting a woman. A noble woman, the Daughter of the King of Greece. And the Big Giant came from the Western World and stole away the Daughter of the King of Greece. And now the King's Son in Ireland was lonely when his consort was gone away from him. And he used to go out fowling with a gun every day. But this particular day he saw a big seagull in the field outside the big house.

"By gob," he said, "if I could kill that I'd be doing well."

He shot at the seagull and broke its wing. And he caught the seagull and brought it into the king. "That's the finest bird," he said, "I ever saw."

"Oh, it is," said the king. "It would be a shame to kill it. We must put a splint on it and feed it well, and he might recover. There will be no finer bird in all the world."

The seagull used to serve as the riding horse of the King's Son in Ireland when he went hunting and rounding up game. He would spread his two legs over it and the seagull would rise up in the air until he was about ten yards up or so and(?) he would clear(?) fences and gates or anything that was in the way. There was never a finer riding horse in all the world.

One day he was coming home. The seagull rose up in the air and did not stop until he was up high in the clouds. And he didn't stop until he landed in the Western World where his mother was, a thieving hag with teeth as long as an oak tree. The first person he saw on the street was the Daughter of the King of Greece. She indicated to him not to let it show on any account that he recognized her.

But, by gob, when the King's Son in Ireland got to the door, "Leap, King's Son in Ireland," he said, "in there."

She winked at him (to warn him) not to do it. He went in without paying any attention to the Great Giant. But in a while the Daughter of the King of Greece told him that had he jumped there were nails in the door lintel and they would penetrate his skull.

When they were inside a good while the Daughter of the King of Greece said, "It is time," she said, "to serve food to this poor fellow. He is hungry."

"If you want to do so," said the hag, "give him a hunk of that brown bread there," she said, "and a drink of the third(?) ale and may that do him more harm than good."

The Daughter of the King of Greece did not do accordingly. She gave him the best bread in the house and the best ale in the house. But in a while, the King's Son in Ireland came to him."

"Well now, King's Son in Ireland," he said, "I have a job for you tomorrow. And if you don't do it... if you don't do it," he said, "I will take your head off and your life's preservation(?)."

Footnotes

Commentary

This tale is incomplete, so it is difficult to determine exactly what the full story may be, but it appears to be related to an international folktale, ATU 550 Bird, horse and princess. This concerns a young man who must go on a quest to a distant land. He helps some animals or people along the way, and is later assisted by them in his adventure. Other stories that have a similar plot have been recorded in Irish tradition, and examples include that published under the title 'The King of Ireland's Son' in Henry Glassie, Irish folktales (New York, 1985), 39, and Séamus Ennis, Feidlim Tonn Rí’s Castle (Claddagh Records, CC19, 1977). Both begin with the incident of the young man shooting a bird, before being placed under obligation to go on an adventure to a far-off kingdom. Some versions of the tale include a number of other international folktale plots that are interwoven into the narrative. See Padraic Colum, The King of Ireland’s son (Dublin, 1916) and Caoimhín Ó Nualláin (ed.), Eochair Mac Rí in Éirinn (Dublin, 1982). ATU 550 is known throughout Eurasia and the Middle East, the Americas and North Africa. See Hans Jorg Uther, The types of international folktales: a classification and bibliography (3 vols, Helsinki, 2004). It is reasonably popular in Ireland, with examples coming from the north and along the western seaboard. See Seán Ó Súilleabháin and Rieder Th. Christiansen, The types of the Irish folktale (Helsinki, 1968).