Transcript

Bhí rí na hÉireanna agus a bhuachaill amuigh ag seilg a'n[1] lá amháin. Agus shiúil siad leofa agus casadh nead éin ar an rí. Agus ní rabh uirthi ach trí huibhe.

"Nach mór an t-iontas[2] seo," a dúirt sé leis an bhuachaill, "nead éin a casadh orm agus gan uirthi ach trí huibhe?"

"Ní a'n iontas ar bith domhsa é," a dúirt an rí... nó a dúirt an buachaill.

"Ga tuighe[3]?"

"Níl a'n fhear ar an domhan," a deir sé, "nach dtug duine dena chloinn don deachmhaidh. Agus níl a'n éan ar an domhan nach dtug duine dena chloinn don deachmhaidh."

"Más fíor sin, ní thug mise a'n nduine[4] de mo chloinn don deachmhaidh go fóill," a dúirt a rí. "Goidé an dóigh a dtiocfadh liom iad a thabhairt don deachmhaidh?"

"Cuir 'na[5] scoile go huile amárach iad, agus an duine deireanach a bheas ag an gheafta, druid an geafta romh[6] agus tabhair don deachmhaidh é. (Bí réidh," a rinn sé seo.)

Bhí a fhios aige go breá go mbeadh an fear a ba sine ar deireadh ag teacht 'na bhaile agus go reathfadh an mhuintir óg 'na bhaile leis an ocras. D'éirigh an rí amach roimh an mhac ar deireadh agus dhruid sé an geafta roimhe.

"(Mic)," a deir sé, "tá mé do thabhairtsa don deachmhaidh."

"Nach mór an t-iontas sin, a athair," a deir sé. "Cinnte, chan fhuil tú ag coil[7] a mo chur ar shiúl gan cúnamh costais."

Fuaigh sé isteach agus tháinig sé amach agus dhá chéad punta leis. Shín sé an dá chéad 'uige. Thug sé beathach capaill dó agus beathach capaill dona bhuachaill le choil leis go bhfeicfeadh sé goidé a dhéanfadh an deachmhaidh leis. Ní theachaigh[8] siad iontach fada an bealach mór gur casadh cónair orthu ina luí i lár an bhealaigh mhóir, agus lucht an tórraidh[9] ag buaileadh na comhra, achan nduine ag baint a chuid féin as an chónair. Tháini' sé 'un tosaigh.

"Goidé atá contráilte?" a deir sé.

"Seo fear a bhfuil moll mór fiach againn air agus ní chuirfear achoíche é go mbainfidh muidinne ár gceart as."

"Dá bhfaigheadh sibh mur gcuid an gcuirfeadh sibh é?"

"Chuirfeadh agus míle fáilte," dúirt 'ach béal.

D'imigh sé agus roinn sé an dá chéad punta agus an dá bheathach capaill agus dúirt sé leis an bhuachaill, "Gabh thusa 'na bhaile. Tá mise ag an deachmhaidh mór go leor anois."

Ní theachaigh sé iontach fada 'un tosaigh an bealach mór nuair a tchíonn sé fear ag teacht isteach taobh an chnoic.

Sé dúirt an fear, "(An) mbeadh buachaill a dhíobháil ort?"

"Ó, níl buachaill ar bith a dhíobháil orm," a dúirt sé. "(...) mé féin a dhíobháil rud inteacht a shaothrú."

"(An) dtabharfá cúig phunta domhsa," a dúirt sé, "nó leath mo láim(h)e féin?"

"Bhéarfaidh mé cúig... bhéarfaidh mé leath do láim(h)e féin duid, ó is é is fusa domh a thabhairt duid."

Shiúil an bheirt leofa an bealach mór giota beag agus ní theachaigh siad iontach fada gur casadh fear orthu agus páirc ghearraithe aige. Ní rabh air ach leathchos. Thosaigh an fear beag ribeach rua a chomhrá le fear na leathchoise go dtí ' rabh gearria soir[10] gearria siar agus gan ceann le fáil acu.

"(Do mhúin) agus do dhoghrainn ort[11]," a deir sé, "nach mór an truaighe mo (ghléas beo a chur a dhíobháil orm)."

"Siúil leat liomsa," a dúirt sé, "agus fág ansin iad."

Shiúil siad leofa go dtáinig giota eile agus casadh fear orthu agus bow and arrow aige. Ní ligfeadh sé réaltóg ar spéir nach gcuirfeadh sé anuas leis an bhow and arrow. Thosaigh sé a chomhrá leis go dtí ' dtáinig cabhar ar an spéir (dá rabh a fhios aige) is nach rabh sé ábalta ar a dhath ar bith a dhéanamh daofa.

"Siúil leat liomsa," a dúirt an fear beag ribeach rua, a dúirt sé, "agus fág ansin é."

Shiúil an ceathrar leofa go dtí ' dtáinig siad píosa eile, agus nuair a chuaigh siad giota 'un tosaigh casadh fear orthu ina luí i lár an bhealaigh mhóir. A chluas a bhí ar an bhealach mhór, bhí sé ag éisteacht leise[12] na diabhail thíos in ifreann agus a chluas a bhí os a chionn, bhí sé ag éisteacht leis na haingle ins na flaithis. Bhuail sé cic ar an asal nuair a tháini' sé 'un tosaigh.

"Ó," a dúirt an fear sin, a dúirt sé, "nach mór an náire duid a leithéidí dhe rud a dhéanamh?"

Shiúil leofa an cúigear ag tarraingt ar níon an rí a bhí sa Domhan Thoir. Shiúil leofa go dtáinig neoin bheag agus deireadh an lae orthu. Casadh isteach i (gcróán) beag toighe iad.

"Bhuel," a dúirt an tseanbhean, "nach mór an truaighe go dtáinig sibh orainn anocht. Tá an rí... an fathach ar shiúl," a deir sí, "le seacht n-oíche agus le seacht lá agus b'fhéidir go mbeadh sé 'na bhaile anocht."

Translation

The King of Ireland and his servant were out hunting one day. And they walked along and the king came across a bird's nest. And there were only three eggs in it.

"Isn't this a great wonder," he said to the boy, "to find a bird's nest with only three eggs in it?"

"It is no wonder to me," said the... said the boy.

"How so?""

"There is no man in the world," he said, "who hasn't given one of his children to the deachmhaidh. And there is no bird in the world who hasn't given one of its chicks to the deachmhaidh."

"If that is true, I haven't given any of my children to the deachmhaidh yet," said the king. "How can I give them to the deachmhaidh?"

"Send them all to school tomorrow, and the last one to get to the gate, close the gate before them and give them to the deachmhaidh. Be ready (?)," he said (?).

He knew well that the eldest son would be last to come home and that the youngsters would run home with the hunger. The king went out in the end and he closed the gate before his son.

"Son(?)," he said, "I am giving you to the deachmhaidh."

"Isn't that a great wonder, father," he said. "Surely you're not going to send me off without helping with costs?"

He went in and he came out with two hundred pounds. He handed him the two hundred. He gave him a horse and he gave a horse to his servant to go with him to see what the deachmhaidh would do to him. They went no great distance on the road when they came across a coffin lying in the middle of the road and the people attending the wake were hitting the coffin, everyone striking(?) his own bit of the coffin. He came forward.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"This is a man who owes us a lot and he won't be buried until we get our dues from him."

"If you got your share would you bury him?"

"We would bury him gladly," spoke every mouth.

He went and he divided the two hundred pounds and the two horses and he said to the servant, "You go home. I am with the deachmhaidh long(?) enough now."

He didn't progress very far along the road when he saw a man coming in from the side of the mountain.

The man said, "Do you need a servant?"

"Oh, I don't need a servant," he said. "(...) that I need myself is to earn something."

"Would you give me five pounds," he said, "or even a helping hand (?)?"

"I will give five... I will give you a helping hand (?), since it is the easiest for me to give you."

The two walked along the road a little bit and they didn't go very far when they met a man who had a field full of hares. He only had one leg. The little bristly red-headed man started talking to the one-legged man until a hare went east and a hare went west and they could get any of them.

"(...) and affliction to you," he said. "What a pity to deprive me of my means of livelihood."

Come along with me," he said, "and leave them there."

They walked on for another bit and met a man with a bow and arrow. He wouldn't leave a star in the sky that he wouldn't bring down with the bow and arrow. He started conversing with him until a cover(?) came over the sky and he knew (?) that he wasn't able to do anything for them.

"Walk on with me," said the little bristly red-headed man, he said, "and leave him there."

The four of them walked on another bit, and when they progressed another bit they came across a man lying in the middle of the road. The ear he had to the road was listening to the devils below in hell and the ear which was above him was listening to the angels in heaven. He kicked the donkey when it came forward.

"Oh," said that man, he said, "isn't is a great shame for you to do such a thing?"

The five of them walked on toward the king's daughter who was in the Eastern World. They walked on until evening and the day's end came on them. They went into a small shed(?) of a house.

"Well," said the old woman, "it's a pity that you came to us tonight. The king... The giant is away," she said, "for the past seven nights and seven days and he might be back home tonight."

Footnotes

Commentary

Parts 1 and 2 of this story form a single, if incomplete, narrative regarding the expulsion of the king's son and his subsequent adventures. A key motif repeated in the tale, An deachmhaidh, appears in this instance to mean 'tithe', and events in the story see the young man being sent away by his father and surrendered to fate. The concept of a child being tithed to destiny was identified by early folklore researchers. For example, Jeremiah Curtin described An Deachmhaidh as 'the working of a power outside us in the shaping of careers of men, fate' (Myths and folk-lore of Ireland (Boston, 1890), 243).

This links the narrative to a series of related stories in European folklore, where the tenth child, or in some instances seventh or twelfth, must be given up to fate as a tithe, and whose ultimate destiny is of great significance. In Slavic folklore the young person thus surrendered is a tithe offered to a deity. See Monika Kropej, 'The tenth child in folk tradition', Studia Mythologica Slavica 111 (2007), 75-88. In Irish examples the story of the wandering son serves as an introduction for several international folktale plots. Seán Ó Súilleabháin identified the general outline of the tale, and included a summary in his Handbook of Irish folklore (Detroit, 1942), 601. The current example seems to be based loosely on ATU 400, The man on a quest for his lost wife. See Hans Jorg Uther, The types of international folktales: a classification and bibliography (3 vols, Helsinki, 2004). Other versions of the story begin in a similar fashion, with the son being tithed to An Deachaoin, but continue with different plots. See An Seabhac, 'Mac Rí 'n Deachaoin', Béaloideas 4:1 (1933), 37-45. See also Reider Th. Christiansen, 'Towards a printed list of Irish fairytales', Béaloideas 7:1 (1937), 3-14: 12.