Tras-scríbhinn

Bhí sin ann agus más fada ó bhí, mac baintreabhaí ina chónaí astoigh in Oileán na Cruite. Oíche amháin Shamhna agus é ag teacht anuas an t-oileán, mhoithigh[1] sé an trup agus an tslua sí ag tarraingt air. D'éist sé tamalt agus níor mhoithigh sé go rabh siad thart air. Tháinig fear acu aníos go dtí é agus dúirt leis gur mhaith leo dá mbeadh siad... dá mbeadh sé leo siar go Connachta a dh'iarraidh mná. Ní rabh sé saor gan eagla a bheith air agus chuaigh leo. Thug siad beathach dó agus chuaigh sé a mharcaíocht agus ní thear'[2] siad stad mara nó mór trá go dtí go rabh siad thiar dtoigh[3] Pheadair Uí Dhuibhir i gcondae Mhuigh Eo.

Tháinigtheas go dtí an teach agus d'fhág siad na beathaigh ar an léana taobh thuas dó. Agus bhí damhsa ag goil ar aghaidh ansin. Léim iomlán acu in airde ins na creataí ach an Dálach agus fágadh eisean 'na sheasamh ar leac an dorais taobh amuigh. Bhí damhsa ag goil ar aghaidh agus an bhean óg a bhí le pósadh lá harna mhárach ag damhsa. Ag teacht thart an chéad uair daoithe bhuail fear acu le slat na draoitheachta í agus thuit sí i laige i lár an toighe.

"Dhia is do Chríosta thú[4]," arsa an mháthair, "goidé atá ag teacht ort?"

Agus d'éirigh sí slán ar ais. Ag teacht thart an dara huair daoithe bhuail sé ar aist[5] le slat na draoitheachta í agus thuit sí.

"Dhia 's do Chríosta thú," arsa an mháthair, "goidé atá ag teacht ort anocht?"

D'éirigh sí slán folláin ar ais. Agus an tríú huair ag teacht thart daoithe bhuail sé le slat na draoitheachta ar aist í agus thuit sí.

Agus, "Damnú ort!" arsa an mháthair. "Goidé na loicíocha[6] atá ag baint duid anocht ar chor ar bith?"

Agus anuas leis an tslua sí agus d'airdigh leo í eadar chorp agus chleiteacha agus d'fhág seanscuab ina cosamlacht[7] 'na luighe i lár an toighe. Thug amach í agus chuir ar chúlú[8] an Dálaigh í ar an bheathach agus níor stad go dtí go rabh siad aríst ag Oileán na Cruite. Ach ní rabh cead acu a bheith amuigh aon bhomaite amháin i ndéidh a dó dhéag agus ag teacht daofa bhí an t-am thuas, agus ní rabh siad abálta a dhath a dhéanamh ach séideog a chur ina béal agus í a fhágáil bodhar balbh ag an Dálach ina seasamh ar an oileán. Thug suas 'uig a mháthair í agus choinnigh ansin í go bliain ón oíche sin. Chuaigh sé síos an t-oileán ar ais agus mhoithigh sé an ceol agus an trup arís. Ach an chéad oíche a casadh orthu é, ní rabh sé saor ní ba mhó gan eagla a bheith air agus bheadh i gcónaí braon uisce coisreactha agus a Chonóir Mhuire leis. D'éist sé tamalt ag barr na mbeann agus chuala sé fear acu ag ráit thíos:

"Bliain agus an oíche anocht bhain an Dálach an bhean dúinn."

"Más é féin," arsa an dara fear, "is beag is cabhair dó í. D'fhág mise bodhar balbh aige í ó shoin."

"Maise, is beag an rud a leigheasfadh sin," arsa an tríthú fear. "Dá mbeadh braon amháin amach as an bhuidéal seo aici bheadh sí slán arís."

Dar leis féin, "Goidé an dóigh a dtiocfadh liom an buidéal a fháil uafa[9] anois?" Agus síos leis tríofa[10] agus ar ghoil thart don bhuidéal ag a thaobh sciob sé é agus chroith an t-uisce coisreactha agus shín leis 'na[11] bhaile go cruaidh gasta arís.

Thug bolgam den bhuidéal le hól don mhnaoi agus labhair sí leis. "Cá bhfuair tú an buidéal seo?" arsa sise agus d'ins[12] sé daoithe goidé mar bhí an scéal, agus thúsaigh sise ansin agus d'ins sí dó goidé mar tharlaigh daoithe féin.

Ar maidin an lá harna mhárach ghléas sé a chapall agus shín leis agus ní thear' sé stad mara ná mór trá go dteachaigh sé siar go dtí Pheadair Uí Dhuibhir i gcondae Mhuigh Eo. Tháinig isteach ansin agus d'iarr lóistín ar an tseanphéire. Bhí an tseanbhean ina suí sa chlúdaigh agus í ag mairgnigh. Agus dúirt an sean-nduine[13] nach rabh a ngléas mór ach mar sin féin go gcoinneochadh siad iad. Dúirt an tseanbhean ach go b'é[14] go rabh Máire s'acusean marbh nach gcreidfeadh sí ó Dhia nach sin í a bhí leis. Agus ní thiocfadh leofa coinneáil suas níos mó ná gan inse daofa goidé mar tharlaigh an cás agus d'ins gur seo a níon, a níon aríst leis, agus achan seórt.

Pósadh an Dálach agus Máire agus chónaigh sé thiar i gcondae Mhuigh Eo. Agus tá sé go fóill, é féin agus iaróí ina dhéidh, thiar ansin.

Aistriúchán

Once upon a time and a long time ago it was, there was a widow's son living on the Island of Cruit. One Hallowe'en night when he was coming down the island, he heard a noise and the fairy folk drawing near. He listened a while and he didn't hear that they were all around him. One of them came up to him and he told him they would like if they were... if he went with them west to Connacht looking for a woman. He free of fear (?) and he went with them. They gave him a horse and he went riding and they didn't stop on land or sea until they were back west at Peter O'Dwyer's house in County Mayo.

They came to the house and they left the horses on the lawn above it. And there was a dance on there. They all leapt up on the roof but O'Daly and he was left standing on the threshold outside. The dance was going on and the young woman who was going to be married the next day was dancing. The first time she came around one of their men struck her with a magic wand and she fainted in the middle of the house.

"God bless us and save us," said the mother, "what's wrong with you?"

And she got up well again. When she came around the second time he struck her again with the magic wand and she fell.

"God bless us and save us," said the mother, "what's wrong with you tonight?"

She got up hale and hearty again. And the third time she came around he struck her with the magic wand again and she fell.

And, "Curse you!" said the mother. "What on earth is bothering you tonight?"

And down came the fairy folk and they swept her away both body and bones and they left an old brush that looked like her lying in the middle of the house. They brought her out and put her behind O'Daly on the horse and they didn't stop until they were back at the Island of Cruit again. But they weren't allowed to stay out a minute after midnight and when they arrived the time was up, and they couldn't do anything but blow on her mouth and leave her deaf and dumb standing on the island with O'Daly. He brought her up to his mother and kept her there until a year from that night. He went back down the island and he heard the music and the noise again. But the first night they met him, he wasn't free of fear anymore and he would always have a drop of holy water and rosary beads in his possession. He listened a while up above (?) and he heard one of them saying below:

"A year ago tonight O'Daly took the woman from us."

"Be that as it may," said a second man, "she is of little use to him. I left her deaf and dumb since then."

"Well, that's easy to cure," said the third man. "If she had one drop out of this bottle she would be well again."

He thought to himself, "How will I get this bottle from them now?" And down he went through them and when he was passing the bottle he swiped it and he splashed the holy water and he headed off home again quickly.

He gave the woman a sup from the bottle and she spoke to him. "Where did you get this bottle?" she said and he told her the story, and she started then and told him what had happened to her.

The next morning he dressed his horse and he went off and he didn't stop on land or sea until he was back west at Peter O'Dwyer's house in county Mayo. He went in there and asked the old couple for lodgings. The old woman was sitting in the corner lamenting. And the old man said that they didn't have much to offer but that they would lodge them all the same. The old woman said that if it wasn't that their Mary was dead, she would find it impossible to believe that it wasn't her he had with him. And they couldn't remain any longer without telling them what happened and he told that this was their daughter, their daughter with him again, and the whole story.

O'Daly and Mary were married and lived back west in county Mayo. And he's still there, himself and his descendents after him, back west there.

Fonótaí

Tráchtaireacht

Seo scéal as sraith de scéalta atá coitianta in Éirinn agus a bhaineann le fuadach sí. Cé go bhfuil an tagairt suarach, luaitear sa scéal go bhfágann na sióga scuab ina ndiaidh, a ndéanann iarlais de ansin. Ba chréatúir osnádúrtha iad seo a thóg áit duine daonna a fuadaíodh go dtí an saol eile. Ní in Éirinn amháin a creideadh in iarlaisí, agus is cosúil gur féiniméan de chuid na hEorpa atá iontu. Tá ceangal ag an scéal thuas le finscéal imirceach, ML 5058 The changeling. Féach Reider Th. Christiansen, The migratory legends (Helsinki, 1958). Baineann an scéal seo le malairt leagain den téama, ina bhfuasclaítear an duine a fuadaíodh, agus gur fear céile, suiríoch nó fear eile a dhéanann seo. Tá plé ar na leaganacha Éireannacha den scéal in Séamus Mac Pilib, 'The changeling (ML5058): Irish versions of a migratory legend in their international context', Béaloideas 59 (1991), 123-31.

Tá leagan den scéal seo in Nollaig Mac Congail agus Ciarán Ó Duibhín, Glórtha ón tseanaimsir (Gleann an Iolair, 2009), 29-32.