Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

When I was growing up, my mother taught me the language of the birds; and when I got married, I used to be listening to their conversation; and I would be laughing; and my wife would be asking me what was the reason of my laughing, but I did not like to tell her, as women are always asking questions. We went out walking one fine morning, and the birds were arguing with one another. One of them said to another,—

“Why should you be making comparison with me, when there is not a king nor knight that does not come to look at my tree?”

“Oh, what advantage has your tree over mine, on which there are three rods of magic and mastery growing?”

When I heard them arguing, and knew that the rods were there, I began to laugh.

“Oh,” asked my wife, “why are you always laughing? I believe it is at myself you are jesting, and I’ll walk with you no more.”

“Oh, it is not about you I am laughing. It is because I understand the language of the birds.”

Then I had to tell her what the birds were saying to one another; and she was greatly delighted, and she asked me to go home, and she gave orders to the cook to have breakfast ready at six o’clock in the morning. I did not know why she was going out early, and breakfast was ready in the morning at the hour she appointed. She asked me to go out walking. I went with her. She went to the tree, and asked me to cut a rod for her.

“Oh, I will not cut it. Are we not better without it?”

“I will not leave this until I get the rod, to see if there is any good in it.”

I cut the rod and gave it to her. She turned from me and struck a blow on a stone, and changed it; and she struck a second blow on me, and made of me a black raven, and she went home and left me after her. I thought she would come back; she did not come, and I had to go into a tree till morning. In the morning, at six o’clock, there was a bellman out, proclaiming that every one who killed a raven would get a fourpenny bit. At last you would not find man or boy without a gun, nor, if you were to walk three miles, a raven that was not killed. I had to make a nest in the top of the parlour chimney, and hide myself all day till night came, and go out to pick up a bit to support me, till I spent a month. Here she is herself (to say) if it is a lie I am telling.

“It is not,” said she.

Then I saw her out walking. I went up to her, and I thought she would turn me back to my own shape, and she struck me with the rod and made of me an old white horse, and she ordered me to be put to a cart with a man, to draw stones from morning till night. I was worse off then. She spread abroad a report that I had died suddenly in my bed, and prepared a coffin, and waked and buried me. Then she had no trouble. But when I got tired I began to kill every one who came near me, and I used to go into the haggard every night and destroy the stacks of corn; and when a man came near me in the morning I would follow him till I broke his bones. Every one got afraid of me. When she saw I was doing mischief she came to meet me, and I thought she would change me. And she did change me, and made a fox of me. When I saw she was doing me every sort of damage I went away from her. I knew there was a badger’s hole in the garden, and I went there till night came, and I made great slaughter among the geese and ducks. There she is herself to say if I am telling a lie.

“Oh! you are telling nothing but the truth, only less than the truth.”

When she had enough of my killing the fowl she came out into the garden, for she knew I was in the badger’s hole. She came to me and made me a wolf. I had to be off, and go to an island, where no one at all would see me, and now and then I used to be killing sheep, for there were not many of them, and I was afraid of being seen and hunted; and so I passed a year, till a shepherd saw me among the sheep, and a pursuit was made after me. And when the dogs came near me there was no place for me to escape to from them; but I recognised the sign of the king among the men, and I made for him, and the king cried out to stop the hounds. I took a leap upon the front of the king’s saddle, and the woman behind cried out, “My king and my lord, kill him, or he will kill you!”

“Oh! he will not kill me. He knew me; he must be pardoned.”

And the king took me home with him, and gave orders I should be well cared for. I was so wise, when I got food, I would not eat one morsel until I got a knife and fork. The man told the king, and the king came to see if it was true, and I got a knife and fork, and I took the knife in one paw and the fork in the other, and I bowed to the king. The king gave orders to bring him drink, and it came; and the king filled a glass of wine and gave it to me.

I took hold of it in my paw and drank it, and thanked the king.

“Oh, on my honour, it is some king or other has lost him, when he came on the island; and I will keep him, as he is trained; and perhaps he will serve us yet.”

And this is the sort of king he was,—a king who had not a child living. Eight sons were born to him and three daughters, and they were stolen the same night they were born. No matter what guard was placed over them, the child would be gone in the morning. The queen was now carrying the twelfth child, and when she was lying in the king took me with him to watch the baby. The women were not satisfied with me.

“Oh,” said the king, “what was all your watching ever? One that was born to me I have not; and I will leave this one in the dog’s care, and he will not let it go.”

A coupling was put between me and the cradle, and when every one went to sleep I was watching till the person woke who attended in the daytime; but I was there only two nights, when it was near the day, I saw the hand coming down through the chimney, and the hand was so big that it took round the child altogether, and thought to take him away. I caught hold of the hand above the wrist, and as I was fastened to the cradle, I did not let go my hold till I cut the hand from the wrist, and there was a howl from the person without. I laid the hand in the cradle with the child, and as I was tired I fell asleep; and when I awoke, I had neither child nor hand; and I began to howl, and the king heard me, and he cried out that something was wrong with me, and he sent servants to see what was the matter with me, and when the messenger came, he saw me covered with blood, and he could not see the child; and he went to the king and told him the child was not to be got. The king came and saw the cradle coloured with the blood, and he cried out “where was the child gone?” and every one said it was the dog had eaten it.

The king said: “It is not: loose him, and he will get the pursuit himself.”

When I was loosed, I found the scent of the blood till I came to a door of the room in which the child was. I went to the king and took hold of him, and went back again and began to tear at the door. The king followed me and asked for the key. The servant said it was in the room of the stranger woman. The king caused search to be made for her, and she was not to be found. “I will break the door,” said the king, “as I can’t get the key.” The king broke the door, and I went in, and went to the trunk, and the king asked for a key to unlock it. He got no key, and he broke the lock. When he opened the trunk, the child and the hand were stretched side by side, and the child was asleep. The king took the hand and ordered a woman to come for the child, and he showed the hand to every one in the house. But the stranger woman was gone, and she did not see the king; and here she is herself (to say) if I am telling lies of her.

“Oh, it’s nothing but the truth you have!”

The king did not allow me to be tied any more. He said there was nothing so much to wonder at as that I cut the hand off, and I tied.

The child was growing till he was a year old. And he was beginning to walk, and there was no one caring for him more than I was. He was growing till he was three, and he was running out every minute; so the king ordered a silver chain to be put between me and the child, so that he might not go away from me. I was out with him in the garden every day, and the king was as proud as the world of the child. He would be watching him every place we went, till the child grew so wise that he would loose the chain and get off. But one day that he loosed it I failed to find him; and I ran into the house and searched the house, but there was no getting him for me. The king cried to go out and find the child, that he had got loose from the dog. They went searching for him, but they could not find him. When they failed altogether to find him, there remained no more favour with the king towards me, and every one disliked me, and I grew weak, for I did not get a morsel to eat half the time. When summer came, I said I would try and go home to my own country. I went away one fine morning, and I went swimming, and God helped me till I came home. I went into the garden, for I knew there was a place in the garden where I could hide myself, for fear she should see me. In the morning I saw my wife out walking, and my child with her, held by the hand. I pushed out to see the child, and as he was looking about him everywhere, he saw me and called out, “I see my shaggy papa. Oh!” said he; “oh, my heart’s love, my shaggy papa, come here till I see you!”

I was afraid the woman would see me, as she was asking the child where he saw me, and he said I was up in a tree; and the more the child called me, the more I hid myself. The woman took the child home with her, but I knew he would be up early in the morning.

I went to the parlour window, and the child was within, and he playing. When he saw me he cried out, “Oh! my heart’s love, come here till I see you, shaggy papa.” I broke the window and went in, and he began to kiss me. I saw the rod in front of the chimney, and I jumped up at the rod and knocked it down. “Oh! my heart’s love, no one would give me the pretty rod.” I thought he would strike me with the rod, but he did not. When I saw the time was short I raised my paw, and I gave him a scratch below the knee. “Oh! you naughty, dirty, shaggy papa, you have hurt me so much, I’ll give yourself a blow of the rod.” He struck me a light blow, and as there was no one sin on him, I came back to my own shape again. When he saw a man standing before him he gave a cry, and I took him up in my arms. The servants heard the child. A maid came in to see what was the matter with him. When she saw me she gave a cry out of her, and she said, “Oh, my soul to God, if the master isn’t come to life again!”

Another came in, and said it was he really. And when the mistress heard of it, she came to see with her own eyes, for she would not believe I was there; and when she saw me she said she’d drown herself. And I said to her, “If you yourself will keep the secret, no living man will ever get the story from me until I lose my head.”

Many’s the man has come asking for the story, and I never let one return; but now every one will know it, but she is as much to blame as I. I gave you my head on the spot, and a thousand welcomes, and she cannot say I have been telling anything but the truth.

“Oh! surely; nor are you now.”

When I saw I was in a man’s shape, I said I would take the child back to his father and mother, as I knew the grief they were in after him. I got a ship, and took the child with me; and when I was journeying I came to land on an island, and I saw not a living soul on it, only a court dark and gloomy. I went in to see was there any one in it. There was no one but an old hag, tall and frightful, and she asked me, “What sort of person are you?” I heard some one groaning in another room, and I said I was a doctor, and I asked her what ailed the person who was groaning.

“Oh,” said she, “it is my son, whose hand has been bitten from his wrist by a dog.”

I knew then it was the boy who was taking the child from me, and I said I would cure him if I got a good reward.

“I have nothing; but there are eight young lads and three young women, as handsome as any one ever laid eyes on, and if you cure him I will give you them.”

“But tell me in what place his hand was cut from him?”

“Oh, it was out in another country, twelve years ago.”

“Show me the way, that I may see him.”

She brought me into a room, so that I saw him, and his arm was swelled up to the shoulder. He asked if I would cure him; and I said I would cure him if he would give me the reward his mother promised.

“Oh, I will give it; but cure me.”

“Well, bring them out to me.”

The hag brought them out of the room. I said I should burn the flesh that was on his arm. When I looked on him he was howling with pain. I said that I would not leave him in pain long. The thief had only one eye in his forehead. I took a bar of iron, and put it in the fire till it was red, and I said to the hag, “He will be howling at first, but will fall asleep presently, and do not wake him till he has slept as much as he wants. I will close the door when I am going out.” I took the bar with me, and I stood over him, and I turned it across through his eye as far as I could. He began to bellow, and tried to catch me, but I was out and away, having closed the door. The hag asked me, “Why is he bellowing?”

“Oh, he will be quiet presently, and will sleep for a good while, and I’ll come again to have a look at him; but bring me out the young men and the young women.”

I took them with me, and I said to her, “Tell me where you got them.”

“Oh, my son brought them with him, and they are all the offspring of the one king.”

I was well satisfied, and I had no liking for delay to get myself free from the hag, and I took them on board the ship, and the child I had myself. I thought the king might leave me the child I nursed myself; but when I came to land, and all those young people with me, the king and queen were out walking. The king was very aged, and the queen aged likewise. When I came to converse with them, and the twelve with me, the king and queen began to cry. I asked, “Why are you crying?”

“Oh, it is for good cause I am crying. As many children as these I should have, and now I am withered, grey, at the end of my life, and I have not one at all.”

“Oh, belike you will yet have plenty.”

I told him all I went through, and I gave him the child in his hand, and “These are your other children who were stolen from you, whom I am giving to you safe. They are gently reared.”

When the king heard who they were he smothered them with kisses and drowned them with tears, and dried them with fine cloths silken and the hair of his own head, and so also did their mother, and great was his welcome for me, as it was I who found them all. And the king said to me, “I will give you your own child, as it is you who have earned him best; but you must come to my court every year, and the child with you, and I will share with you my possessions.”

“Oh, I have enough of my own, and after my death I will leave it to the child.”

I spent a time, till my visit was over, and I told the king all the troubles I went through, only I said nothing about my wife. And now you have the story.

[_The remainder is from P. MCGRALE’S Achill version._]

And now when you go home, and the slender red champion asks you for news of the death of Anshgayliacht and for the sword of light, tell him the way in which his brother was killed, and say you have the sword; and he will ask the sword from you; and say you to him, “If I promised to bring it to you, I did not promise to bring it for you;” and then throw the sword into the air and it will come back to me.

He went home, and he told the story of the death of Anshgayliacht to the slender red champion, “And here,” said he, “is the sword.” And the slender red champion asked for the sword, and he said, “If I promised to bring it to you, I did not promise to bring it for you;” and he threw it into the air and it returned to Blue Niall.

_THE GHOST AND HIS WIVES._

_Narrator, MICHAEL FAHERTY, Renvyle, co. Galway._

There was a man coming from a funeral, and it chanced as he was coming along by the churchyard he fell in with the head of a man. “It is good and right,” said he to himself, “to take that with me and put it in a safe place.” He took up the head and laid it in the churchyard. He went on along the road home, and he met a man with the appearance of a gentleman.

“Where were you?” said the gentleman.

“I was at a funeral, and I found the head of a man on the road.”

“What did you do with it?” said the gentleman.

“I took it with me, and left it in the churchyard.”

“It was well for you,” said the gentleman.

“Why so?” said the man.

“That is my head,” said he, “and if you did anything out of the way to it, assuredly I would be even with you.”

“And how did you lose your head?” said the man.

“I did not lose it at all, but I left it in the place where you found it to see what you would do with it.”

“I believe you are a good person” (_i.e._ a fairy), said the man; “and, if so, it would be better for me to be in any other place than in your company.”

“Don’t be afraid, I won’t touch you. I would rather do you a good turn than a bad one.”

“I would like that,” said the man. “Come home with me till we get our dinner.”

They went home together. “Get up,” said the man to his wife, “and make our dinner ready for us.” The woman got up and made dinner ready for them. When they ate their dinner, “Come,” said the man, “till we play a game of cards.”

They were playing cards that evening, and he (the gentleman) slept that night in the house; and on the morning of the morrow they ate their breakfast together. When two hours were spent,—

“Come with me,” said the gentleman.

“What business have you with me?” said the man.

“That you may see the place I have at home.”

They got up and walked together till they came to the churchyard. “Lift the tombstone,” said the gentleman. He raised the tombstone and they went in. “Go down the stairs,” said the gentleman. They went down together till they came to the door; and it was opened, and they went into the kitchen. There were two old women sitting by the fire. “Rise,” said the gentleman to one of them, “and get dinner ready for us.” She rose and took some small potatoes.

“Have you nothing for us for dinner but that sort?” said the gentleman.

“I have not,” said the woman.

“As you have not, keep them.”

“Rise you,” said he to the second woman, “and get ready dinner for us.”

She rose and took some meal and husks.

“Have you nothing for us but that sort?”

“I have not,” said she.

“As you have not, keep them.”

He went up the stairs and knocked at a door. There came out a beautiful woman in a silk dress, and it ornamented with gold from the sole of her foot to the crown of her head. She asked him what he wanted. He asked her if she could get dinner for himself and the stranger. She said she could. She laid a dinner before them fit for a king. And when they had eaten and drunk plenty, the gentleman asked if he knew the reason why she was able to give them such a dinner.

“I don’t know,” said the man; “but tell me if it is your pleasure.”

“When I was alive I was married three times, and the first wife I had never gave anything to a poor man except little potatoes; and she must live on them herself till the day of judgment. The second wife, whenever any one asked alms of her, never gave anything but meal and husks; and she will be no better off herself, nor any one else who asks of her, till the day of judgment. The third wife, who got the dinner for us—she could give us everything from the first.”

“Why is that?” said the man.

“Because she never spared of anything she had, but would give it to a poor man; and she will have of that kind till the day of judgment.”

“Come with me till you see my dwelling,” said the gentleman. There were outhouses and stables and woods around the house; and, to speak the truth, he was in the prettiest place ever I saw with my eyes. “Come inside with me,” said he to the man; and I was not long within when there came a piper, and he told him to play, and he was not long playing when the house was filled with men and women. They began dancing. When part of the night was spent, I thought I would go and sleep. I arose and went to sleep; and when I awoke in the morning I could see nothing of the house or anything in the place.

_THE STORY OF BIOULTACH, SON OF THE HIGH KING OF ERIN._

_Narrator, TERENCE DAVIS, Renvyle, co. Galway._

There was a king in Erin long ago, and long ago it was. He had a pair of sons, Bioultach and Maunus. Bioultach was the elder. His father took him from school. The son said to him, “Will you give me no more schooling?”

“I will not give. I think you have enough learning, and I am but poor.”

“I give you the quarters of the heaven, of the sea, and of the land, against my body and my soul, that a second meal I will not eat at the one table, that a second night I will not sleep in the one bed, till I go to seek my fortune.”

“Oh, my son! evil is the oath you have taken, and it were better for you to watch over Erin. I think it were worth your while to stay at home, for when you go some other nation will come and cut it off.”

“Oh! it is one to me.”

He rose exceeding bright on the morning of the morrow. He rubbed palm to poll and palm to forehead, to make it be seen that he was the best in beauty and in courage. He struck down to the sea. He struck a plank on this side and a plank on that till he made a ship spacious and capacious. He struck on board the ship, and spent four nights and four days, till he landed in Spain without permission.

The King of Spain was out of doors, and he saw the ship coming in without permission. He sent a messenger down to ask who was the champion.

The messenger came back and said to the king, “There is but one man on board, and handsomest of all men that ever I saw is he.”

“Oh! give him an invitation to the court.”

The messenger went and gave the invitation. Bioultach spent a day and a year at the court.

“Well,” said the king, “you are at my court for a year, and I have never asked who you are.”

“If you asked me I would have told you. Bioultach am I, son of the High King of Erin, who left my father’s court and pleasant home, since I thought little of the learning he was giving me; and I think I will stay here no longer.”

“I don’t know,” said the king, “where you will go; but I believe there is not a place in the world better than Greece, for there is no champion at all, who is a good man, that it is not in Greece he is, in company with the king.”

Bioultach took leave of the king, and raised his ship with him, and stopped not till he came to Greece. The King of Greece was on a height (above the sea), and with him a pair of champions—his own son, Splendour, and Splendour-of-the-Sun, son of the King of the Castle of the Stream.

“Go down,” said the king to Splendour-of-the-Sun, “and bring me word who is the champion that has come in without permission.”

He went down at the command of the king, and saluted the man in the ship. Said he, “The king has sent me to get word who you are.”

“Well, I never took from my ship word to give you, unless you get it from me by force.”

“I would get it if I had you here.”

“I will be there now, but I must secure my ship, that neither storm nor sun may hurt her.”

Bioultach went out, and he and the man on shore took hold of each other. Bioultach threw him and tied him tightly, and he fastened the five knots together, and threw him behind him. The king was looking on.

“Go down, Splendour, son of the King of Greece,” said he, “and bring me word who is the champion that has tied the other man.”

The son of the King of Greece went down, and he and Bioultach took hold of each other, and Bioultach threw him and tied him more tightly than the other, and laid him along with him. The king had nothing for it but to send a messenger down with a branch of green yew. When Bioultach saw the yew coming, he loosed the men, and the messengers bade him come with them to the palace. Bioultach went with them, and he spent a day and a year with the King of Greece, learning everything the king could teach him, and the king never asked who he was or whence he came. But at the end of a year the king asked,—

“It were good to me to know your name. It was not good to me to put any telling on you; but now I have a desire you should tell me who you are.”

“Oh, I will tell you, and a thousand welcomes. If you asked me at first I would have told you. Bioultach am I, son of the High King of Erin, who left my father’s court and pleasant home, since I thought little of the learning he was giving me, and I spent a year with the King of Spain before I came here.”

Bioultach had a brother, who was but little when he went away. When he grew big he asked the king,—

“Dada, where went my brother?”

“I know not,” said the king. “I never found out, either by praying or by paying.”

“Why did he go away?”

“Because he thought little of the learning I was giving him.”

“I give you the quarters of heaven, of the earth, and of the sea, against my body and my soul, that a second night I will not sleep in one bed, that a second meal at the one table I will not eat, till I go in search of him.”

“Oh, my son, evil is the oath you have taken, and it were better for you to stay in Erin, nor leave it altogether without ah heir.”

“More to me is my brother than all Erin.”

When Maunus arose in the morning he took leave of his father, and went down to the sea, and went on board ship, and stopped not till he came to Spain. He spent a day and a year there. The king asked him,—

“Whence are you? I would like to get word of you.”

“Oh, you will get it. Maunus am I, son of the High King of Erin, who left the court and pleasant home of my father a year since, yesterday, to search for my brother, Bioultach.”

“Oh,” said the king, “Bioultach spent a day and year with me here, and if he is alive he is with the King of Greece.”

“I will wait no longer till I see him.”

“Oh,” said the king, “if you reach Greece, do not rise in without permission, for you have no knowledge how to handle a sword.”

When Maunus came to Greece he ran in without permission. The King of Greece was out of doors, and Bioultach and Splendour, son of the King of Greece, and Splendour-of-the-Sun, son of the King of the Castle of the Stream.

“Oh, Bioultach, to-day it is three years and a day since you landed, and since then not a ship has come in without permission, and a ship has come in without permission to-day. Go down, Splendour-of-the-Sun, and get me knowledge who is the champion.”

“By my soul, I will not go. Three years from to-day Bioultach tied me, and I have never been well since then.”

“Go down, Splendour, and bring me word who is the champion.”

“I will not go. It was not I whom you told to go at first. If it were, I would have gone.”

“I believe it is I myself must go.”

Splendour-of-the-Sun went down, and he and the man on board the ship saluted each other. “Whether you are of the noble or ignoble of the world, whence are you?”

“Never from my ship have I given tidings to tell of me till they were got from me by force.”

“Oh! I would do that same if I had you here.”

“Oh! it is soon I will be there; but I must secure my ship, that sun may not burn nor shingle hurt her.”

Maunus went out, and the two champions took hold of each other. Maunus threw the other, and as he never wrestled with a man before, this is what he made with him—a ball, and he threw him behind him.

“Oh!” said the king, “Splendour, go down now; he is killed yonder.”

Splendour, son of the King of Greece, went down, and Maunus tied him as he did the other man; and the king cried to Bioultach, “Thy friendship and thy fealty; let not the sway from Greece, for I have no other but you.”

“If you asked me at first I would have gone.”

“If I had twelve sons I would send them before you.”

“I will go now.”

Bioultach went down, and he and Maunus saluted each other.

“Of the noble or ignoble of the world, whence are you?”

“I never from my ship gave tidings to tell of me, unless you take them by force.”

“I will take them if I can.”

Bioultach and Maunus caught hold of each other, and they spent a long part of the day, and neither of them threw the other. Said Bioultach, “To me it is not good at all to be like this. Let us get swords for each.”

“To me it is no worse, if to you it is fine.”

“It were good to me if you would tell me who you are.”

“I will not tell you. But if you desire to fight, you will get that.”

“It is not good to me to be fighting with you.”

“Well, I will not tell you who I am.”

Bioultach got a sword, and Maunus another, and they went fighting. Bioultach was wounding him with the sword, as Maunus did not know how to use it.

“It is not good to me to wound you, and it were good to me if you would tell me who you are. I could have killed you twice; but it is anguish on me to kill you.”

“Well, I never held a sword until to-day, and if I am wounded my skill increases; and do not spare me, as I will not spare you if I get one chance at you.”

They fought for another while.

“Oh! it was good to me,” said Bioultach, “you should tell me who you are, for I do not find it in my heart to be fighting with you.”

“Oh,” said Maunus, “is it not great the asking you have after my name? But do you tell me who you are.”

“Oh, I have not hidden my name, ever. Bioultach am I, son of the High King of Erin, who left my father’s court and pleasant home four years and a day since, yesterday.”

“Well,” said Maunus, “had you a brother?”

“I had never but one brother, and sorry I am he is not so big as you yet.”

“Whether he is big or little, it is he that has been fighting with you since morning.”

“Oh,” said Bioultach, “it cannot be that you are Maunus.”

They embraced one another, and Bioultach was weeping and kissing his brother. When the King of Greece came in among the men—“Oh, Bioultach, what ails you?”

“My king and my lord, I am fighting with my brother since morning; and if I killed him, I would do nothing but put my sword through my heart.”

“Oh, Bioultach, did you not know there was not another man able to fight with you but he?”

“I thought he was not yet so big.”

That was the time Maunus loosed the men, and they were only just alive. The king took them all with him—Bioultach and Maunus, and Splendour son of the King of Greece, and Splendour-of-the-Sun. They went to the court of the High King of Greece.

Bioultach rose in the morning, and he and Maunus went into the garden, and he began to ask Maunus how were his father and his mother and his sister, and how was Erin. But the High King of Greece had a daughter, and she was in a cloister in the garden. Maunus saw her going by, as a whiz of wind would go. “Oh, Bioultach, do you see that beautiful woman?”

“I do not see. She does not concern us. Perhaps she will never come by again.”

“Oh, Bioultach, I have never seen a woman as beautiful as she.”

“Well, you can see her no more. She goes by only once in a year.”

“I shall not live if I don’t get another sight of her.”

“Oh! I am sorry I ever saw you; but if you had an hour of her company you would ask no more?”

“I would not ask.”

Bioultach turned a key in the door, and let in Maunus, who spent two hours and a-half inside.

“Maunus, are you coming out?”

“Did you not promise me an hour?”

“I have given you two hours and a-half. Be coming out now.”

“I will not come. But I must get that woman in marriage, or I will not leave a head on you or on the king.”

“Oh, wait patiently till I tell you who she is.”

“Make haste and ask her of the king.”

Bioultach went in and threw himself on his knees before the king. “Bioultach,” said the king, “what is it you want? It cannot be that it is that hard-fortuned daughter of mine that Maunus has seen.”

“Oh, it is she; and he says that unless he gets her in marriage he will not leave a head on yourself or on me.”

“Can this be possible? But bid him to come in that I may see him and tell him of her doings, and if he is content I will give her to him, and a thousand welcomes; but let him have neither blame nor censure for me or you.”

Bioultach went out to Maunus.

“Ha, Bioultach, have you got the woman?”

“I have got. But rise and come to the king, and he will tell you how she has lived.”

Maunus went in to the king.

“Ha, Maunus, have you seen that beautiful woman?”

“I have seen.”

“You say you must get her in marriage?”

“I must, or I will not leave a stone in the place of your court.”

“Well, sit down,” said the king, “and I will tell you everything now.

“When she was growing up there came Bocaw More, of Kri-nă-Sorracha, otherwise Shamus Elevayreh, son of the King of Sorracha, and he saw her. He came and asked her in marriage. I refused him. He came again and asked her and I refused. He came the third time and she would not marry him. He told her he would be even with her. It was well till two years were over her, and Blue Niall, son of the King of Spain, came here and asked her in marriage.

“I told him what I am telling you. He said he was content with her. It was well till they were married, and when they went into their chamber, she never saw sight of him again, nor did any one else. It was very well till a year passed, and there came Feathery[3] Clerk, son of the King of the Western World, and asked her in marriage. I told him what I told the other man. He said he was content with her. When they were married and went to sleep, there was no getting him. She was in the bed, but there was no husband with her. She would not tell where he went, and we doubted that he could have gone and she not to know where. When I saw the two fine men were destroyed through her, there came on me a dislike to her, and I made her a dwelling in the garden, and put restrictions on her not to see a man, for I did not like that another man should be destroyed by her. But now, if you are satisfied, and your brother, so that there will not be blame or censure with you for me if anything happens, I will give her to you and welcome. Now, Bioultach, I will make a house, and I will put bars of iron on it from ground to roof, and I will put three iron doors in it, and seven locks on every door. I will put eight hundred men round it, and Splendour, my own son, and Splendour-of-the-Sun, and yourself at the three doors before Maunus goes in.”

When they were married, and were going into the fastness, Bioultach said to the king, “I think it is on the outside the danger will come first, and I would not like any one to be destroyed but myself; I will go on the outer side entirely.”

Maunus and his wife went in, and the men were planted round about the house. Bioultach went on the outside altogether. The day grew big with lightning and thunder, and horror came on the day. When Bioultach saw that the men were frightened, he ran through them till he came to the door. He gave his shoulder to the door, and from door to door he broke till he came inside. The woman was in bed, and Maunus was not with her.

“Ha! my good girl, where is my brother Maunus gone?”

“I do not know.”

“Tell me where he is gone, quickly.”

“Have sense.”

“Tell me at once where he is gone.”

“Oh, you will never see Maunus again.”

“I give you the quarters of heaven, of the earth, and of the sea, against my body and my soul, that unless you tell me this moment where he is gone I will put my sword through your heart.”

“Oh, Bioultach, your friendship and your protection! I cannot. But, if you are the good champion they say, take a table and place it yonder; strip yourself, and leave on you nothing but your shirt and trousers. Stand on the table and defend that hole above. If a bar had been put there at first, it would have done the business. But take with you a sword, and I will say you are a good champion if you defend the hole, and I will tell you where Maunus is gone.”

Bioultach stripped himself, and went on the table and took a sword. When the man above saw the woman was going to tell the story, “Ha! my good girl,” said he, “are you going to tell the story?”

“Oh! don’t heed him,” said Bioultach; “but tell the story, and be quick.”

“Short is the time since Maunus was here, and now he is in the Bake-house in the east, and three drops on him of the molten torrent, as he had three warnings.”

“Oh! you thief, you wanton, do you desire to tell the story?”

“My good girl,” said Bioultach, “I will defend you.”

“When I was growing up,” said the woman, “he asked me in marriage. My father refused him three times; and even if he accepted him, I would not marry him. He said he would be even with me. When Blue Niall married me he took him away, and put on him one drop of the molten torrent, as he had one warning. When, again, I was married to Feathery Clerk, he took him away with him, and put on him two drops, as he had two warnings.”

“Oh, you slut, go on with the story no farther!” said the big man.

“Do not fear,” said Bioultach,—“go on.”

“As Maunus got three warnings, on him there are three drops, and each drop goes to the bone.”

It was at this time the king came in through the men, and he saw Bioultach all red with blood.

“Oh, Bioultach,” said he, “you are killed!”

“I am not. I am coloured with the blood of the giant, but on myself there is no harm.”

“You are a good man, Bioultach,” said the woman; “I did not believe there was a man in the world would fight the giant. Now you can come down.”

Bioultach sat down till he told the king. “I do not know what you will do,” said the king. “But I will get ready a ship, and put on board eight hundred men of the pick of my kingdom, and the two champions along with you; and, on my honour, it is worse to me to part with you than with them all.”

The king fitted out the ship, and he put on board the two champions and the eight hundred men, along with Bioultach. When Bioultach went on board the ship they raised their great sails, speckled, spotted, red-white, to the top of the mast; and he left not a rope unsevered, nor a helm without * * * * * * in the place where there were seals, whales, crawling, creeping things, little beasts of the sea with red mouth, rising on the sole and the palm of the oar, making fairy music and melody for themselves, till the sea arose in strong waves, hushed with magic, hushed with wondrous voices; with greatness and beauty was the ship sailing, till to haven she came and harbour on the coast of the Land of Brightness.

That was the first place where the giant had his habitation. Bioultach and the two champions went out on the shore. “I don’t know what we shall do,” said Bioultach; “but stay, I see a small little boat coming under great rowing, and in it I see but one man.”

When the boat came to land, there came out of her a ragged green man, the top of whose head was out through his old hat, the toes of his feet through his old boots, his elbows out through his coat, and his knees through his old trousers.

“Ha, Bioultach, what likeness of adventure are you putting on yourself to-day?”

“Bad luck on you! isn’t it the same to you what likeness of adventure I am putting on myself?” said Bioultach.

“Oh, it is not equal. If I were as good as I might be, I should be beside you. But to-day let me go before you.”

“I will let you and welcome.”

“Leave the other men on board the ship, and we will go to see the giant. I will throw him, and we’ll see if you can tie him. But, sorry I am, I can do nothing but throw him.”

Bioultach and the ragged green man went into the house, and when the giant saw them he was about to be away. The ragged green man caught him and threw him. Bioultach took hold of him and tied him tightly, and brought the five slenders together, so that the toes of his feet gave conversation to the holes of his ears, and no conversation did they give him but the height of mischief and misfortune.

“Take might and mastery, Bioultach; I thought there was not a man in the world able to tie him.”

“Oh, Bioultach,” said the giant, “tightly, tightly have you tied me; ease the fastening a little at the knot.”

“Oh, Bioultach,” said the ragged green man, “it is better to sell than to buy.”

“Oh, Bioultach,” said the giant, “do not heed that thief, but ease the fastening on the cord.”

Bioultach laid his hand on the rope, to ease the knot, and out with the giant through the window, and out with Bioultach after him. When the giant was high, Bioultach was low, till the night came, and Bioultach was forced to sit down, and he wept his fill. He saw a little light far from him, and he made for it. When he came in (to the house) there was a big cat in the ashes, and she got up and smothered him with the ashes.

“May you be worse a year from to-day,” said he; and he sat down. It was not long till an old woman came down to him.

“Ha, Bioultach, it had been better for you to follow the counsel of the ragged green man than your own.”

“Bad luck to you! Isn’t it all the same to you whose counsel I follow?”

“Oh! it is not the same to me. Not on your own feet are you going since morning, but on the enchantments of the giant, and he is sailing a day and a year’s journey from you. But I have here a little boat of lead, and I will give it to you, and in whatever place, in the four quarters of the world, you order it to be, there it will be in the morning. But you will grant me a request, if you come safe; and, if you do not come, I will forgive you.”

She gave him a tablecloth: “Every time you spread it, there will be every kind of food and drink on it; and fold it when you are done.”

“Oh, I will give you any request you ask, if I come safe.”

There came then from a room twelve[4] hags, the ugliest man ever saw.

“Oh, the death-bands on you!” said Bioultach.

“Oh, Bioultach,” said the hag, “on us before this was the beauty of youth, but now the decay of age, as on yourself it will yet be. But I hope you will get the better of the giant.”

Bioultach took the little boat. “Now, Bioultach, the sea is not far from you. Place the boat on the water, and ask of God and the miracles of the leaden boat that in whatever place is the Bocaw More of the Land of Sorracha you may be there at morning.”

Bioultach placed the boat on the water. “I ask of God and the miracles of the leaden boat that in whatever place is the Bocaw More I may be there at morning.”

When the day whitened Bioultach was in front of an island, and the haven took fire around him and the boat began to melt. He saw the ragged green man rising from a stone, and he rubbing his eyes after a while of sleeping.

“Oh, Bioultach, you are badly off now, and I must make a gallon to put out the flame.”

“If I am here till you make a gallon, I shall be destroyed.”

“I shall not be long away.”

It was not long till he came. He threw three palmfuls of water on the flame and put it out.

“Ha, Bioultach, I hope you will not let the giant go to-day. He has no expectation that we will come to-day.”

When they went in the giant was about to be off; but the ragged green man caught him and threw him. Bioultach caught him and tied him well, better than he tied him the day before.

“Oh, Bioultach, you have tied me more tightly to-day than yesterday; but ease the tie a little.”

“It is better to sell than to buy,” said the ragged green man.

“Oh, if you are the son of a king by a queen, ease the knot. I am not asking you to set me free.”

Bioultach laid his hand to ease him, and away with the giant through the window, and away with Bioultach after him. He was but foolish to seek to get a hold of him. When the night fell Bioultach spread his tablecloth, and every sort of food and drink he wanted was upon it. He ate a great plenty, and he took the boat up. He laid it on the water. “I ask of God and the miracles of my boat that in whatever place is the Bocaw More I may be there in the morning.”