Tras-scríbhinn

Bhí fear bocht ins an áit a dtugadh siad Conchúr an Dá Chaorach air agus ní rabh aige ach é féin agus a mháthair. Bhí dhá chaora aige agus bhí gach áit, olc nó maith an lá, le (tiomáil) leofa. Agus ní rabh páirc ná garraí ná áit a bhfaigheadh sé féar maith le tabhairt dófa nach rabh sé ann, go rabh an áit agus an paráiste a rabh sé ann scriostaí aige. Dúirt siad le chéile go bhfaigheadh siad réidh le Conchúr agus an dá chaora dhá dtigeadh leofa. Bhuail siad neoin amach le ghoil an lá seo le... Bhí sé ag triall go páirc na bhfiach agus bhuail siad amach le theacht (roimhe) ar an bhóthar. Agus nuair a casadh leis ar an bhóthar iad bheannaigh siad dho Chonchúr. Bheannaigh Conchúr dófa.

"Cé bhfuil tú ag goil, a Chonchúir, inniu?"

"Tá mé ag goil," ar seisean, "go háit a bhfaighidh mé féar agus áit le tabhairt dófa."

"Bhuel, tá sinne ag goil ag marú caora dho níon an (onóir), dho níon an Iarla, agus tá sé chomh maith agatsa cionn a mharú dó."

"Bhuel, déanfaidh mé (...)," arsa Conchúr, "(...) marú (dófa)."

Bhí go maith agus ní rabh go holc. Phill sé abhaile tráthnóna ag a mháthair. Agus ní rabh aici ach an t-aon chaora. Agus bhuail sí suas ag caoineadh agus ag gárthaigh le nuair nach rabh dho mhaoin an tsaoil aici ach an dá chaora agus go rabh sí (i muinín ach aon chionn) anois.

"Ná bac leis, a mháthair," ar seisean, "beidh muid níos fearr amárach."

Bhuail sé an bóthar lá harna mhárach agus casadh leis (geaing eile briseáiltí) nach rabh aon aithne aige orthu le go rabh... rabh siad le fáil réidh le Conchúr agus an dá chaora. Ní rabh leis ach an t-aon chaora agus d'fhiafraigh siad... bheannaigh siad dho Chonchúr agus bheannaigh Conchúr dóibh. D'fhiafraigh siad dófa[1] cé rabh sé ag goil. Dúirt Conchúr go rabh sé ag goil go páirc na bhfiach leis an (d-) chaora.

"Bhuel," arsa siadsan, "tá mise... tá chuile fhear againne ag goil go maraí muid an chaora dho níon an Iarla atá dhá phósadh inniu, (...) agus go rabh sé chomh maith agatsa, a Chonchúir, cionn eile a mharú."

Mharaigh Conchúr í agus ní rabh aon ndath (aige) ansin insa domhan mhór, maoin ná stór aige féin ná ag a mháthair ach an ch-... bheith réidh leis an chaora. Bhí go maith agus ní rabh go holc. Phill sé abhaile ag a mháthair tráthnóna go brónach (...). Agus bhuail sí suas ag caoineadh nach rabh a dhath sa domhan mhór aici, (miú)[2] ná stór ach a ghoil amach ag na comharsanaigh go (bhfuair) sé suipéar na hoíche le fáil réidh.

"Ná bac leis, a mháthair," ar seisean. "Amárach," ar seisean, "beidh mise... agus bainfidh mé ceart duit ar son luach mo dhá chaora."

Bhuail sé an bóthar agus nuair a chuaigh sé suas go dtí teach an Iarla, nuair a tháinig sé go dtí an chéad gheata dúirt an fear nach dtáinig leis a ghoil isteach. D'ardaigh sé an camán agus bhagair sé ar an fhear agus b'éigean dhon fhear an geata a fhoscailt ar an toirt. Chuaigh sé isteach agus nuair a chuaigh sé suas go dtí an dara geata, 'uig an bhean a bhí ag coinneáil(t) na cisteanadh - cailín - d'iarr sé uirthi a ligint isteach go bhfeiceadh sé an tIarla. Dúirt sí nach dtáinig leis agus nach (ngeobhfadh)[3]. Agus d'ardaigh sé an camán. Agus ar an toirt ar ardaigh sé an camán d'fhoscail sí an geata agus chuaigh sí... chuaigh sé isteach. Tháinig an tIarla agus dúirt sé nach rabh fear ar bith ag teastáil uadh. Dúirt Conchúr go gcaithfeadh sé rud a fháil ar[4] shon a dhá chaora a mharaigh sé in onóra dhá chlainn níon a bhí póstaí le dhá lá. Ar an toirt ar ardaigh sé an camán rinn sé (moch amogha le... le uainín caorach ar féar). Agus ansin, dúirt sé go gcaithfeadh sé obair a fháil. D'fhiafraigh sé dho Chonchúr cén sórt obair a leanann sé leis agus dúirt Conchúr gur ridire(acht) caorach a chleacht sé ariamh (...), agus gur mhaith leis a bheith anois ann agus go gcaithfeadh sé a bheith.

"Bhuel," arsa an tIarla, ar seisean, "tá fear agam a (...)."

Bhuail sé isteach chun na páirce agus bhí sé sástaí. Agus nuair a chuaigh sé isteach chun na páirce bhí an ridire a bhí roimhe ag na caoirigh, ní rabh sé sástaí.

"Bí i do thost!" ar seisean. "B'fhearr mise ná dhá chéad dho do shórtsa," ar seisean. "Níl agatsa leofa," ar seisean, "ach aon uan amháin caorach," ar seisean. "(Gabh isteach chun an uain sin) ag léimnigh amach ó na giolcacha sin," ar seisean, "agus beidh siad agamsa (...) tráthnóna (leofa)."

D'ardaigh an camán leis na giorriacha (ar a) dtugann siad giorriacha orthu. Agus bhuail sé ansin an camán agus ní rabh cionn ar an achadh ná ar an fhéar sa pháirc nach rabh dhá ghiorria tráthnóna leis.

Aistriúchán

There was a poor man in the place who they used to call Conor of the Two Sheep and all he had was himself and his mother. He had two sheep and they (...), whether the day was good or bad. And there wasn't a field or garden or spot where he could find good grass to give them that he didn't go into, and he had the place and the parish he was in destroyed. They said to each other that they would get rid of Conor and the two sheep if they could. They went out at noon this day to go to... He was going to the field of ravens and they went out to confront him on the road. And when they met Conor on the road they saluted him. Conor saluted them.

"Where are you going today, Conor?"

"I am going," he said, "to a place where I will find grass and a place to give them."

"Well, we are going to kill a sheep for the daughter of the honour-... for the daughter of the Earl, and you might as well kill one for him."

"Well, I will (...)," said Conor, "(...) kill for them (?)."

All was well and good. He returned home in the evening to his mother. And she only had the one sheep. And she started crying and shouting when all the worldly possessions she had were the two sheep and that she only had one now.

"Don't worry, mother," he said, "we will be better tomorrow."

He hit the road the following day and he met another gang of (...) whom he did not know (...) that they were to get rid of Conor and the two sheep. He had only the one sheep with him and they asked... they saluted Conor and Conor saluted them. They asked him where he was going. Conor said that he was going to the field of ravens with the sheep.

"Well," they said, "I am... every man amongst us is going to kill a(?) sheep for the Earl's daughter who is getting married today, (...) and you might as well kill another one yourself, Conor."

Conor killed it and he(?) had nothing then in the wide world, wealth or riches, himself or his mother, except the sh-... to get rid of the sheep. All was well and good. He returned home to his mother sadly (...). And she started crying that she had nothing in the wide world, wealth or riches but to go to the neighbours to get to get the night's supper ready (?).

"Don't worry, mother," he said. "Tomorrow," he said, "I will... and I will see you right for the value of my two sheep."

He hit the road and when he went up to the Earl's house, when he came to the first gate the man said that the couldn't go in. He lifted the hurley and he threatened the man and the man had to open the gate that instant. He went in and when he went up to the second gate, to the woman who was maintaining the kitchen - a girl - he asked her to let him in to see the Earl. She said that he couldn't and that she wouldn't get him (?). And he lifted his hurley. And the instant he lifted the hurley she opened the gate and she went... he went in. The Earl came and he said that he didn't need any man. Conor said that he had to get something for his two sheep which he killed in honour of his daughters who got married the past two days. The instant he lifted the hurley he made (...) with a little lamb on the grass (?). And then, he said that he would have to get work. He asked Conor what kind of work he did and Conor said that he always tended sheep (...), and that he would like to be doing so now and that he would have to be.

"Well," said the Earl, "I have a man who (...)."

He went into the field and he was happy. And when he went into the field the rancher who was tending the sheep before him, he was not happy.

"Be silent!" he said. "I am better than two hundred of your sort," he said. "You only have one lamb with them (?)," he said. "Get in to that lamb jumping out from those reeds," he said, "and I will have them (...) evening with them (?)."

He lifted the hurley at the hares they call hares. And he swung the hurley then and there wasn't one on the field or on the grass in the field that didn't have two hares with it in the evening.

Fonótaí

Tráchtaireacht

Tagann an chéad agus an dara cuid den scéal seo le chéile ina sampla den scéal idirnáisiúnta béaloidis, ATU 650 Strong John. Is éard a bhíonn i gceist sa ghnáthleagan de seo ná fear óg a bhfuil an-neart ann, agus atá ag obair ag máistir a bhfuil eagla air roimhe. Cuireann an máistir cúraimí éagsúla ar an bhfear óg chun é a dhíbirt. Éiríonn leis an bhfear óg na cúraimí go léir a chur i gcrích, agus ar deireadh pósann sé iníon an mháistir. Tá an scéal an-choitianta ar fud na hEorpa, san Áis, i dtuaisceart na hAfraice agus i gcríocha Mheiriceá. Féach Hans Jorg Uther, The types of international folktales: a classification and bibliography (3 iml., Helsinki, 2004). Bhí an-tóir ar an scéal in Éirinn, agus rinneadh clárú air go mion minic ar fud na tíre. Féach Seán Ó Súilleabháin agus Rieder Th. Christiansen, The types of the Irish folktale (Helsinki, 1968). Ar na móitífeanna sa scéal tá F614.9 Strong man clears plain, F615 Strong man evades death, vain attempts to kill him agus F1099.6 Extraordinary plowing. Tá gaol ag móitíf an arrachta á chur faoin gcéachta le F615.2.3 Strong man sent for wild horses: brings them back, a fhaightear go minic in ATU 650A. Féach Stith Thompson, Motif-index of folk literature (atheagrán méadaithe, 6 iml., Bloomington, Ind., 1955-8).