Transcript

Bhí sin ann agus más fada ó bhí, bhí rí ina chónaí in Éirinn fada ó shoin, agus bhí gaiste aige fá choinne gabhadh éanach. Mharbhadh sé lon dubh achan lá agus bhí triúr... Bhaist na comharsanaigh Gruagach an Ghaiste mar leasainm air. Bhí triúr mac aige agus chuireadh sé na mic amach ar a seal fá choinne an éin. (An) mac a ba sine an chéad lá, (an) dara fear an dara lá, agus an mac ab óige an treas lá. C'ainm a bhí ar an fhear óg ach Donn Ó Dubhaigh.

Lá amháin chuaigh Donn Ó Dubhaigh amach fá choinne an éin agus labhair an t-éan leis. "Lig mise ar shiúl," arsa an t-éan, "agus gurba fearrde duid é."

D'fhoscail Donn Ó Dubhaigh a dhorn agus lig sé an t-éan ar shiúl. Agus nuair a chuaigh sé isteach chuigna[1] athair arsa an t-athair leis, "Cá bhfuil an t-éan?"

"Lig mé ar shiúl é," ar seisean.

"Bhuel, dheamhan[2] oíche a chodlas tú faoi aon scraith liom(sa) go deo," arsa an t-athair.

"Dheamhan ar fearr liom mo chodladh," arsa Donn Ó Dubhaigh, "ach cinnte cha chuireann tú ar shiúl mé gan mo chulaith chomhraic agus mo ghléas marcaíocht."

"Gheobhaidh tú sin," arsa an t-athair.

Chuir sé air a chulaith chomhraic, thug leis a chlaidhmhe[3] cosanta, chuaigh a mharcaíocht ar a ghearrán donn agus níor stad sé den choisíocht agus mharcaíocht agus sheoltaireacht go rabh sé i Ríochta na Gréige. Bhí sé ina strainséar sa tír sin agus shiúil sé leis go dtí go rabh an neoin bheag agus deireadh an lae ann, go dtí gur casadh ' fhad le teach beag deismir a chois an bhealaigh mhóir air. Chuaigh sé suas go dtí doras an toighe. D'amharc sé isteach agus bhí seanchailleach liath ina suí sa chlúdaigh. D'iarr sé ósta na hoíche uirthi. Agus dúirt sí go dtabharfadh agus míle fáilte, ach go rabh an cró beag a bhí aicise róshuarach fá choinne gaiscíoch dena mhacasamhailsa. Dúirt sé an dóigh a rabh sise ag cur suas leis ó bhliain go bliain gur bheag an rud dósean a'n[4] oíche amháin a bhaint as.

"Más mar sin atá," ar sise, "ceangail do ghearrán den doras agus tar féin ar aghaidh."

Rinn sé sin. D'éirigh an chailleach a léim ina seasamh. Rinn réidh a shuipéar. Agus nuair a bhí a shuipéar déanta aici chóirigh sé... chóirigh sí leabaidh mhín luachair dó agus chuir a luí é. Níorbh fada a bhí sé ina luí go dtí go gcuala sé trí gháire mhillteanacha.

"A Rí[5] dá bhfónamh!" ar seisean. "Goidé is údar do na trí gháire nach gcuala mé a leithéid in uaigh ná in oileán ná i mbealach ar bith eile dár shiúil mé ariamh?"

"Ná nach gcuala tú," ar sise, "go bhfuil mac Rí Faoi Thoinn le troid le fathach mór as an Domhan Thoir ar an tráigh seo thíos ar maidin amárach fá dtaobh de níon Rí na Gréige. Má bhuaidheann mac Rí faoi Thoinn is leis níon Rí na Gréige gan bhuille gan urchar. Agus má bhuaidheann an fathach is leis féin í."

"Cóirigh faom agus cóirigh tharam. (Ní) mé atá ag dúil le níon an Rí," arsa Donn Ó Dubhaigh agus thuit sé ina chodladh agus chodlaigh sé an chuid eile den oíche go sámh.

Ach má ba luath a d'éirigh an lá lá harna mhárach ba luaithe a d'éirigh Donn Ó Dubhaigh. Nigh sé a aghaidh agus a lámha. Rinn sé a bhricfeasta. Chuir air a chulaith chomhraic. Thug leis a chlaidhmhe cosanta. Chuaigh a mharcaíocht ar a ghearrán donn agus níor stad sé go rabh sé ag béal na trá. Bhí mac Rí Faoi Thoinn agus níon Rí na Gréige ansin ag fanacht leis an fhathach a theacht chucu ó thaobh na farraige.

Nuair a chonaic mac Rí Faoi Thoinn Donn Ó Dubhaigh ag tarraingt air, "Seo gaiscíoch as Éirinn," ar seisean, "agus mo dhua is mo dhoghrainn orm[6] go rachaidh mise i bhfolach faoi thom go dtí go bhfeice[7] mé goidé atá sé in innimh a dhéanamh."

"Beir ar do mhisneach, a chladhaire," arsa níon an rí, "nuair atá tú ag goil a fhagáilt do chuid oibre le déanamh ag fear eile."

Translation

Once upon a time and a long time ago it was, there was a king living in Ireland long ago, and he had a snare to trap birds. He used to kill a blackbird every day and he had three... The neighbours gave him the nickname Ogre of the Snare. He had three sons and he used to send the sons out in turn for the bird. The eldest son the first day, the second man the second day, and the youngest son the third day. What was the youngest called but Donn Ó Dubhaigh.

One day Donn Ó Dubhaigh went out for the bird and the bird spoke to him. "Let me go," said the bird, "and may you benefit from it."

Donn Ó Dubhaigh opened his fist and let the bird go. And when he went in to his father the father said to him, "Where is the bird?"

"I let it go," he said.

"Well, no way will you ever sleep another night under the same roof as me again," said the father.

"I don't give a damn about sleeping," said Donn Ó Dubhaigh, "but you certainly won't send me away without my armour and my means of riding."

"You will get those," said the father.

He put on his armour, brought his sword of defence with him, went riding on his brown horse and he didn't stop walking and riding and sailing until he was in the Kingdom of Greece. He was a stranger in that land and he walked on until dusk and the day's end, until he came to a neat little house by the roadside. He went up to the door of the house. He looked inside and there was a grey old woman sitting in the corner. He asked her for lodgings for the night. And she said she would provide him with lodgings and a thousand welcomes, but that the little hovel she had was too small for a warrior of his sort. He said seeing as she was able to stand it year after year it wouldn't be difficult for him to spend one night there.

"If that's how it is," she says, "tie your horse to the door and come on in."

He did that. The old woman jumped up. She prepared his supper. And when she had made supper he made... she made a bed of rushes for him and she sent him to lie down. He wasn't long lying down when he heard three awful laughs.

"God help us!" he said. "What is the cause of those three awful laughs the likes of which I never heard in a cave or on an island or anywhere else I ever walked?"

"Did you not hear," she said, "that the son of the King under the Waves is to fight a big giant from the Eastern World on the beach down here tomorrow morning over the daughter of the King of Greece. If the son of the King under the Waves wins, the daughter of the King of Greece is his without casting a blow. And if the giant wins, she is his."

"Imagine that (?). I'm not (?) hoping for the king's daughter," said Donn Ó Dubhaigh and he fell asleep and he slept soundly for the rest of the night.

But if day broke early the next day, Donn Ó Dubhaigh got up earlier still. He washed his face and his hands. He made his breakfast. He put on his armour. He took his sword of defence. He went riding on his brown horse and he didn't stop until he was at the edge of the sea. The son of the King under the Waves and the daughter of the King of Greece were there waiting for the giant to come to them from the sea.

When the son of the King under the Waves saw Donn Ó Dubhaigh drawing near, "This is a warrior from Ireland," he said, "and difficulty and distress on me but I will go and hide under a bush until I see what he is capable of doing."

"Take courage, you coward," said the king's daughter, "when you are leaving your work for another man to do."

Footnotes

Commentary

Parts 1 and 2 of this story combine to form a fine example of one of the most popular and widespread international folktales, ATU 300 The dragon-slayer. See Hans Jorg Uther, The types of international folktales: a classification and bibliography (3 vols, Helsinki, 2004). The fact that the princess in the tale took a lock of the hero's hair, and that he himself cut the head from the ogre, allude to an episode that is commonly found in this tale type, where an impostor claims he was the one who killed the ogre, but the real hero is identified by the lock of hair, and the fact that he possesses the head of the creature. These are international motifs H83 Rescue tokens and H105.1. Dragon-tongue proof. See Stith Thompson, Motif-index of folk literature (rev. and enlarged ed., 6 vols, Bloomington, Ind., 1955-8). The story is extraordinarily popular in Ireland, with a great many examples having been recorded from all over the country. See Seán Ó Súilleabháin and Rieder Th. Christiansen, The types of the Irish folktale (Helsinki, 1968).

This story is transcribed also in Róise Ní Bhaoill, Ulster Gaelic voices: bailiúchán Doegen 1931 (Belfast, 2010), 84-93. A version of it appears in Nollaig Mac Congáil and Ciarán Ó Duibhín, Glórtha ón tseanaimsir (Gleann an Iolair, 2009), 13-15. Another version appears in Pádraig Ó Baoighill, Ó Cadhain i dTír Chonaill (Dublin, 2007), 9-19. The story is not included in Anraí Mac Giolla Chomhaill, Scéalta Johnny Shéamaisín (Belfast, 2004), which is a collection of this speaker's tales.