The Irish Fairy Book - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Very well," says the King; "but you must have a fresh horse," says he.
"With all my heart," says the waiver, who thought he might as well exchange the miller's owld garron for a betther.
And, maybe, it's wondherin' you are that the waiver would think of goin'
to fight the dhraggin afther what he heerd about him when he was purtendin' to be asleep. But he had no sitch notion: all he intended was--to fob the goold and ride back again to Duleek with his gains and a good horse. But, you see, cute as the waiver was, the King was cuter still; for these high quolity, you see, is great desaivers; and so the horse the waiver was put an was learned an purpose; and, sure, the minit he was mounted away powdhered the horse, and the divil a toe he'd go but right down to Galway. Well, for four days he was goin' evermore, until at last the waiver seen a crowd o' people runnin' as if Owld Nick was at their heels, and they shoutin' a thousand murdhers and cryin', "The dhraggin, the dhraggin!" and he couldn't stop the horse nor make him turn back, but away he pelted right forinst the terrible baste that was comin' up to him, and there was the most nefarious smell o' sulphur, savin' your presence, enough to knock you down; and, faith, the waiver seen he had no time to lose, and so he threwn himself off the horse and made to a three that was growin' nigh hand, and away he clambered up into it as nimble as a cat; and not a minit had he to spare, for the dhraggin kem up in a powerful rage, and he devoured the horse, body and bones, in less than no time; and then he began to sniffle and scent about for the waiver, and at last he clapt his eye an him where he was up in the three, and says he, "In throth, you might as well come down out o' that," says he, "for I'll have you as sure as eggs is mate."
"Divil a fut I'll go down," says the waiver.
"Sorra care I care," says the dhraggin, "for you're as good as ready money in my pocket this minit, for I'll lie undher this three," says he, "and sooner or later you must fall to my share"; and, sure enough, he sot down and began to pick his teeth with his tail afther the heavy brekquest he made that mornin' (for he ate a whole village, let alone the horse), and he got dhrowsy at last and fell asleep; but before he wint to sleep he wound himself all round the three, all as one as a lady windin' ribbon round her finger, so that the waiver could not escape.
Well, as soon as the waiver knew he was dead asleep by the snorin' of him--and every snore he let out of him was like a clap o' thunder----
The minit, the waiver began to creep down the three as cautious as a fox; and he was very nigh hand the bottom when, bad cess to it, a thievin' branch he was dipindin' an bruk, and down he fell right atop o'
the dhraggin. But if he did, good luck was an his side, for where should he fall but with his two legs right acra.s.s the dhraggin's neck, and, my jew'l, he laid howlt o' the baste's ears, and there he kept his grip, for the dhraggin wakened and endayvoured for to bite him; but, you see, by rayson the waiver was behind his ears he could not come at him, and, with that, he endayvoured for to shake him off; but the divil of a stir could he stir the waiver; and though he shuk all the scales an his body he could not turn the scale again the waiver.
"By the hokey, this is too bad intirely," says the dhraggin; "but if you won't let go," says he, "by the powers o' wildfire, I'll give you a ride that 'ill astonish your siven small sinses, my boy"; and with that away he flew like mad; and where do you think he did fly? By dad, he flew sthraight for Dublin--divil a less. But the waiver bein' an his neck was a great disthress to him, and he would rather have made him an inside _pa.s.senger_; but, anyway, he flew and he flew till he kem slap up agin the palace o' the King; for, bein' blind with the rage, he never seen it, and he knocked his brains out--that is, the small thrifle he had, and down he fell s.p.a.cheless. An', you see, good luck would have it that the King o' Dublin was lookin' out iv his dhrawin'-room windy for divars.h.i.+n that day also, and whin he seen the waiver ridin' and the fiery dhraggin (for he was blazin' like a tar barrel), he called out to his coortyers to come and see the show. "By the powdhers o' war, here comes the knight arriant," says the King, "ridin' the dhraggin that's all afire, and if he gets into the palace, yiz must be ready wid the fire ingines," says he, "for to put him out." But when they seen the dhraggin fall outside they all run downstairs and scampered into the palace yard for to circ.u.mspect the curiosity; and by the time they got down the waiver had got off o' the dhraggin's neck, and runnin' up to the King, says he, "Plaze your holiness," says he, "I did not think myself worthy of killin' this facetious baste, so I brought him to yourself for to do him the honour of decripitation by your own royal five fingers. But I tamed him first before I allowed him the liberty for to dar' to appear in your royal prisince, and you'll oblige me if you just make your mark with your own hand upon the onruly baste's neck."
And with that the King, sure enough, dhrew out his swoord and took the head aff the dirty brute as clane as a new pin. Well, there was great rejoicin' in the coort that the dhraggin was killed; and says the King to the little waiver, says he, "You are a knight arriant as it is, and so it would be no use for to knight you over agin; but I will make you a lord," says he.
"Oh, Lord!" says the waiver, thunderstruck like at his own good luck.
"I will," says the King; "and as you are the first man I ever heerd tell of that rode a dhraggin, you shall be called Lord Mount Dhraggin," says he.
"But that is not all I'll do for you," says the King; "I'll give you my daughter, too, in marriage," says he. Now, you see, that was nothing more than what he promised the waiver in his first promise; for by all accounts the King's daughter was the greatest dhraggin ever was seen, and had the divil's own tongue, and a beard a yard long, which she purtended was put an her, by way of a penance, by Father Mulcahy, her confissor; but it was well known it was in the family for ages, and no wondher it was so long by rayson of that same.
SAMUEL LOVER.
Mor of Cloyne
_Mor of Cloyne, a Munster Princess, is singing at the door of a Fairy Rath to her sister, a captive within it, the magic tune by which she once escaped from a like captivity._
Little Sister, whom the Fay Hides away within his doon, Deep below yon seeding fern, Oh, list and learn my magic tune.
Long ago, when snared like thee By the Shee, my harp and I O'er them wove the slumber spell, Warbling well its lullaby.
Till with dreamy smiles they sank, Rank on rank, before the strain; And I rose from out the rath, And found my path to earth again.
Little Sister, to my woe Hid below among the Shee, List and learn the magic tune, That it full soon may succour thee.
ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES.
Lawn Dyarrig and the Knight of Terrible Valley
(_As told by an Irish Peasant._)
There was a King in his own time in Erin, and he went hunting one day.
The King met a man whose head was out through his cap, whose elbows and knees were out through his clothing, and whose toes were out through his shoes.
The man went up to the King, gave him a blow on the face, and drove three teeth from his mouth. The same blow put the King's head in the dirt. When he rose from the earth, the King went back to his castle, and lay down sick and sorrowful.
The King had three sons, and their names were Ur, Arthur, and Lawn Dyarrig. The three were at school that day, and came home in the evening. The father sighed when the sons were coming in.
"What is wrong with our father?" asked the eldest.
"Your father is sick on his bed," said the mother.
The three sons went to their father and asked what was on him.
"A strong man that I met to-day gave me a blow in the face, put my head in the dirt, and knocked three teeth from my mouth. What would you do to him if you met him?" asked the father of the eldest son.
"If I met that man," replied Ur, "I would make four parts of him between four horses."
"You are my son," said the King. "What would you do if you met him?"
asked he then as he turned to the second son.
"If I had a grip on that man I would burn him between four fires."
"You, too, are my son. What would you do?" asked the King of Lawn Dyarrig.
"If I met that man, I would do my best against him, and he might not stand long before me."
"You are not my son. I would not lose lands or property on you," said the father. "You must go from me, and leave this to-morrow."
On the following morning the three brothers rose with the dawn; the order was given Lawn Dyarrig to leave the castle and make his own way for himself. The other two brothers were going to travel the world to know could they find the man who had injured their father. Lawn Dyarrig lingered outside till he saw the two, and they going off by themselves.
"It is a strange thing," said he, "for two men of high degree to go travelling without a servant."
"We need no one," said Ur.
"Company wouldn't harm us," said Arthur.
The two let Lawn Dyarrig go with them as a serving-boy, and set out to find the man who had struck down their father. They spent all that day walking, and came late to a house where one woman was living. She shook hands with Ur and Arthur, and greeted them. Lawn Dyarrig she kissed and welcomed; called him son of the King of Erin.
"It is a strange thing to shake hands with the elder, and kiss the younger," said Ur.
"This is a story to tell," said the woman, "the same as if your death were in it."
They made three parts of that night. The first part they spent in conversation, the second in telling tales, the third in eating and drinking, with sound sleep and sweet slumber. As early as the day dawned next morning the old woman was up, and had food for the young men. When the three had eaten, she spoke to Ur, and this is what she asked of him: "What was it that drove you from home, and what brought you to this place?"
"A champion met my father, and took three teeth from him and put his head in the dirt. I am looking for that man, to find him alive or dead."
"That was the Green Knight from Terrible Valley. He is the man who took the three teeth from your father. I am three hundred years living in this place, and there is not a year of the three hundred in which three hundred heroes, fresh, young, and n.o.ble, have not pa.s.sed on the way to Terrible Valley, and never have I seen one coming back, and each of them had the look of a man better than you. And now where are you going, Arthur?"