Peg. Whichever of them he preferred. Nora, I think
he was himself sorry enough that he did not do as you
would have done.
[ 132 ]Nóra. Do ḋéin sé go háiféiseaċ é, ⁊ go botúnaċ. Níor ḃ’ ḟurus’ do[3] trí ġuiḋe d’iarraiḋ baḋ neaṁ-ṫairḃiġe ’ná na trí ġuiḋe d’iarr sé. Ní ḟeadar ’an tsaoġal cad do ḃain do. Trí ġuiḋe le faġail aiġe ar a ṫoġa ⁊ ar a ṫuigsint féin, iad le faġail aige gan ċoinġeall gan ċol, ⁊ níor ḃ’ ḟuláir do[4] gaḃáil de ċosaiḃ ionta, ⁊ annsan sparán do ġlacaḋ ar an gcoinġeall ba ċruaḋa[5] dar cuireaḋ ar aon duine riaṁ. Níor ḃ’ iongnaḋ codlaḋ na hoíḋċe dá ḃaint de, ⁊ droiċ-ḟeuċaint[6] ag teaċt ’na ṡúiliḃ!
[ 133 ]Nora. He did it in a most absurd and blundering way.
It would not be easy for him to ask three wishes more
useless than the three wishes he asked for. I don’t know
in the world what came over him. Three wishes to be
got by him in accord with his choice and with his judgment, they to be got by him without condition and without impediment, and he should go and trample them
under foot, and then to accept a purse on the hardest
condition that was ever put upon any human being. It
was no wonder that the night's sleep was being taken off
him, and that a sinister expression was coming in his
eyes.
[ 132 ]Síle. Agus an é sin do ċuir an droiċ-ḟeuċaint ’na ṡúiliḃ? Ó! tuigim anois é. Níor ḃ’ iongnaḋ liom dá mbáiṫfeaḋ sé é féin, ⁊ a leiṫéid de ċrann[7] do ḃeiṫ air.
[ 133 ]Sheila. And was it that that put the ugly look in his
eyes? Oh! I understand it now. I would not be surprised that he would drown himself, and such a fatality to
be on him.
[ 132 ]Peg. Ní deirim ná go ndéanfaḋ sé rud éigin dá ṡórd, aċt ná tiuḃrfaḋ mar ṡásaṁ do’n Ḟear Ḋuḃ é. Deireaḋ sé go minic i n‑a aigneaḋ féin, “Is liom na trí bliaḋna déag gan buiḋeaċas do, ⁊ caiṫfead iad go cúl.”
[ 133 ]Peg.—I don't say but that he would do something of
the sort, but that he would not give the Black Man the
satisfaction of it. He used often to say in his own mind:
“The thirteen years are mine in spite of him, and I will
spend them to the very end.”
[ 132 ]Nóra. Is truaġ nár ḟan sé mar ḃí aige ar dtúis, i dtaoiḃ le n‑a ċrann aḃall ⁊ le n‑a ṁealḃóig agus le n‑a ċaṫaoir ṡúgáin.
[ 133 ]Nora. It is a pity he did not remain as he was in the
beginning, trusting to his apple tree and to his mallivogue
and to his sugawn chair.
[ 132 ]Gob. Agus dar ndóiġ, dá ḃfanaḋ sé mar sin, a Nóra, ní ḃeiḋeaḋ aon ḃean uasal ag feuċaint ’na ḋiaiḋ.
[ 133 ]Gob. And sure if he had remained in that way, Nora,
no lady would be looking after him.
[ 132 ]Nóra. Mhaise, ní móide gur ḃ’ ḟearra ḋo riaṁ é.[8] Ní ḟeicim féin d’uaisleaċt i n‑a lán aco aċt mór-ċúis ⁊ doiṫiġeas ⁊ tarcuisne.
[ 133 ]Nora.—Wisha, perhaps it might be just as well for
him. I myself don't see of gentility in many of them, but
self-importance and repulsiveness and contempt.
[ 132 ]Gob. Á! a Nóra, tá a ḟios agam-sa cad fé ndeár é sin uaireanta.[9] ’Nuair ċíd cailíní beaga ná bíonn uasal ⁊ ḃíonn níos maiseaṁla ’ná iad féin, bíonn éad orṫa. Tá eagla orm, dá mbeinn-se uasal, go mbeiḋeaḋ éad orm ċúġat-sa.
[ 133 ]Gob. Ah! Nora, I know what the cause of that is
sometimes. When they see little girls who are not ladies,
and who are more handsome than themselves, they do be
jealous. I am afraid if I was a lady I should be jealous
of you.
[ 132 ]Síle. Ní ḟiafróċaiḋ sí de Shíle cad ’na ṫaoḃ. Innseaḋ Gobnuit féin anois e, ó ṫarraing sí an ċeisd uirṫi.
[ 133 ]Sheila. She will not ask Sheila why. Let Gobnet
herself tell it now since she has drawn the question on her.
[ 132 ]Peg. Is mór an ḃean suilt Gobnuit, a Nóra, aċt bíonn an ceart aici uaireanta.
[ 133 ]Peg. Gobnet is a great woman for fun, Nora, but she
has the right sometimes.
[ 132 ]Cáit. Agus dar ndóiġ, ní ceart do ċailín uasal éad ná mór-ċúis do ḃeiṫ uirṫi, má b’ é toil Dé an sgiaṁ aingiliḋe do ċur ar ċailín ḃeag íseal.
[ 133 ]Kate. And sure it is not right for a girl who is a lady
to be jealous or overbearing if it should please God to
put the angelic form upon a little girl who is lowly.
[ 132 ]Síle. Ní ḟeadar, a Pheg, na daoine atá gránda ar an saoġal so, an mbeiḋ siad breaġḋa i ḃFlaiṫeas Dé?
[ 133 ]Sheila. I don't know. Peg, the people who are ugly
in this world, will they be beautiful in heaven?
[ 132 ]Peg. Ó a Ṡíle a ċuid, ní ḃeiḋ aon‑ne’ gránda i ḃFlaiṫeas Dé, aċt gaċ aon‑ne níos breaġḋa[11] ⁊ níos maiseaṁla ’ná an té is breaġḋa dá ḃfeacaiḋ súil duine riaṁ ar an saoġal so.
[ 133 ]Peg. Oh! Sheila, my darling, there will be no person
ugly in heaven, but everyone more beautiful and more
handsome than the most beautiful person that a human
eye ever saw in this world.
[ 132 ]Síle. Ní gaḋ ḋóiḃ éad ná mórċúis do ḃeiṫ orṫa, má ’seaḋ.
[ 133 ]Sheila. They need not be jealous nor overbearing in
that case.
[ 132 ]Peg. Ní ḃéiḋ éad ná mór-ċúis ann, a Ṡíle, aċt ċoṁ beag le haon níḋ gránda[12] eile.
[ 133 ]Peg. There won't be jealousy nor overbearing conduct
there, but as little as any other ugly thing.
[ 132 ]Síle. Naċ truaġ nár ġlac Séadna cóṁairle an aingil, i n‑ionad ḃeiṫ ag cuiṁneaṁ ar a ṁealḃóig ⁊ ar a ċaṫaoir ṡúgáin ⁊ ar a ċrann aḃall ⁊ ar na dailtíníḃ a ḃíoḋ ag imirt air!
[ 133 ]Sheila. Is it not a pity Seadna did not take the angel’s
advice instead of being thinhing of his mallivogue and of
his sugawn chair and of his apple tree, and of the dalteens
that used to be playing tricks upon him?
[ 132 ]Peg. Feuċ féin nár ġlac. Aċt is dóċa dá ḃfaiġeaḋ sé an dara hiarraċt go nglacfaḋ. Ní ḃfuair sé an dara hiarraċt. Ḋéin sé a ṁargaḋ. Ḋéin sé fé ḃríġ na mionn é, ⁊ do ḃí air[13] é ṡeasaṁ. Ḃí a ḟios aige go dian-ṁaiṫ, ċoṁ luaṫ ⁊ ṫiocfaḋ an lá deireannaċ de na trí bliaḋnaiḃ déag, go[14] dtiocfaḋ an t‑éilṫeoir[15] ⁊ ná beiḋeaḋ aon ḃreiṫ ar ḋul i ḃfolaċ uaiḋ.
[ 133 ]Peg. See yourself he did not. But I suppose if he got
the second chance he would. He did not get the second
chance. He made his bargain. He made it under the
virtue of the holy things, and he had to stand by it. He
knew right well that as soon as the last day of the thirteen years would come, the claimant would come, and
that there would he no possibility of hiding from him.
[ 132 ]’Nuair ṫug sé tamall maiṫ ’na ṡuiḋe ar Ċaraig na gCearrḃaċ ag feuċaint ’na ṫimċeall ar an raḋarc breaġḋa, do lean sé dá ṁaċtnaṁ:
“Naċ mór a ḃí mo ċás ag déanaṁ buaḋarṫa ḋo! D’airiġ sé mé dá ráḋ go raḃas ‘gan biaḋ gan deoċ gan airgead.’ Is iomḋa duine naċ mé ḃí gan biaḋ gan deoċ gan airgead, ⁊ naċ maiṫ do sgaoil sé[ 133 ]ṫairis iad! . . . . ‘Ní’l an margaḋ ann fós,’ ar seisean. ‘Bíoḋ ’na ṁargaḋ,’ arsa mise. Ní ḃeiḋeaḋ sé sásta leis an méid sin. Níor ṁór do na greamana duḃa a ċur ann. ‘Dar ḃríġ na mionn!’ ar seisean. ‘Dar ḃríġ na mionn!’ arsa mise. Dúḃart é gan aṁras. Ní’l dul uaiḋ agam. Má ’seaḋ, ní déarfainn é mura mbeiḋeaḋ an ċuma i n‑ar ṁeall sé mé. Ní ḟeaca riaṁ im’ ṡúiliḃ cinn daṫ ba ḃreaġḋa ’ná an daṫ a ḃí ar an mám óir a ṫaisbeáin sé ḋom. Ṫáinig dúil ṁalluiġṫe agam ann. Tug sé céad punt dom mar ṁalairt ar aon sgilling aṁáin. ‘Ṫaḃarfainn,’ ar seisean, ‘⁊ seaċt gcéad, dá ḃféadainn a maiṫ sin do lot.’ D’adṁuiġ sé nár ḃ’ ḟéidir a maiṫ do lot, toisg[16] mé ḋá taḃairt uaim ar son an tSlánuiġṫeóra. . . . . A maiṫ do lot! Cad ċuige an lot? Cad ba ġáḋ é? Má ṫeip air maiṫ na sgillinge úd do lot, nár ċóir go ḃféadfainn tuilleaḋ maiṫeasa do ḋéanaṁ, go dteipfeaḋ a lot air? Tá an sparán agam. Baḋ ṁór an sult a ċuid airgid féin do ċur[17] ag déanaṁ staincín[18] air. Dar fiaḋ, ’sin mar ḋéanfad é! Ṫaḃarfaḋ sé seaċt gcéad púnt ar ṁaiṫ aon sgillinge aṁáin do lot. Tá deiċ mbliaḋna agam. Is iomḋa sgilling ⁊ pinginn ⁊ punt ḟéadfad do ṫaḃairt ar son an tSlánuiġṫeóra i gcaiṫeaṁ deiċ mbliaḋan. Beiḋ saoṫar air ag casaḋ le[19] lot na maiṫeasa go léir. Seaḋ! Tá an láṁ uaċtair agam air sa’ méid sin ar aon ċuma. Bainfead ceol as an sparán fós, bíoḋ a’s naċ ar an gcuma i n‑ar ċeapas ar dtúis é. An claḋaire biṫeaṁnaiġ!”
[ 134 ]When he had spent a good while sitting on Carraig na gCearrbhach, looking around him at the beautiful sight, he continued his reflections: “How much my case was troubling him! He heard me saying that I was ‘without food, without drink, without money.’ Many a person besides me that was ‘without food, without drink, without money,’ is it not well he let them pass! ‘The bargain is not in it yet,’ said he —. ‘Be it a bargain!’ said I. He would not be satisfied with that. He should put the black bindings into it. ‘By the virtue of the holy things?’ said he. ‘By the virtue of the holy things!’ said I. I certainly did say it. I cannot escape from it. But I would not have said it but for the manner in which he lured me. I never saw in the eyes of my head a more beautiful colour than the colour that was on the handful of gold he showed me. There came an intense desire for
it upon me. He gave me a hundred pounds in exchange for a single shilling. ‘I would,’ said he, ‘and seven hundred if I could spoil the good of that one.’ He confessed that it was impossible to spoil its good on account of my having given it for the sake of the Saviour.—To spoil its good.—To spoil its good. For what the spoiling? What necessity for it? If he failed to destroy the good of that shilling, should I not be able to do further good which he should be unable to destroy? I have the purse. It would be a great amusement to put his own money to the making of vexation upon him. Dar fia! that is how I will do it. He would give seven hundred pounds to destroy the good of a single shilling. I have ten years. Many a shilling and penny and pound I will be able to give for the sake of the Saviour in the course of ten years. He shall be overworked in trying to destroy all the good. There! I have the upper hand of him in that matter at least. I’ll take music out of the purse yet, be it that it
is not in the way in which I intended at first. The scoundrel of a thief!”
[ 133 ]Do ḃí sé ag déanaṁ amaċ ar eadarṫra[20] um an dtaca go raiḃ a ṁaċtnaṁ críoċnuiġṫe ⁊ a aigneaḋ socair aige. Do eiriġ sé ’na ṡeasaṁ ⁊ d’ ḟeuċ sé ’na ṫímċeall ar an raḋairc breaġḋa.
“Tá deiċ mbliaḋna agam, pé i nÉirinn é,” ar seisean, ⁊ ṫug sé aġaiḋ ar an mbaile.
(Leanfar de seo.)
[ 134 ]It was advancing out towards milking time when he had his reflections finished and his mind fixed. He stood up and looked around him upon the beautiful prospect. “I have ten years at all events.” said he, and he turned his face homewards.
↑ Pé, whoever, whatever, pé aca, whichever. In the older literature, the word appears in full as cibé, gibé, gebé.
↑ “Sorrow, regret,” Munster: in Connaught, Aiṫṁeula.
↑ Do, “to him, it:” vowel short in Munster. This makes it difficult to distinguish the word in writing from the simple preposition do. In speaking, the voice-stress on the pronominal compound is distinctive enough. [To represent this stress in writing, Father O’Leary suggests the use of a grave accent, thus: Do “to,” dò, “to him;” de “off,” dè “off him;” air=ar “on,” àir, “on him;” as “out of,” às “out of him.” The difficuly is that there is no Irish type with this accent.]
↑ “He had to,” “nothing else would do him but to,” &c.
↑ This added t to verbal nouns in -in is now so universal
that it deserves literary recognition. Verbal nouns in l, r and ng also usually add a final t at the present day. Should the genitive case follow suit, i.e., should we say tuigsint, gen. tuigsinte, or preserve the older tuigsiona? What is the vernacular usage?
↑ The idea is from the casting of lots: é ċur ar ċrannaiḃ,” “to cast lots for it.”
↑ Lit. “Well, it is none the more (probable) that it would ever have been better for him.” Ní móide often means “it is not probable,” “it does not follow.” The conditional after go is commonly go mbaḋ, but often, in Munster, gur ḃ(a). Fearra, a colloquial form of fearr, used in Munster, especially before dom, duit, &c.
↑ Irregular plural of uair. The liking for strong plurals is causing many such forms to arise, instead of the older organic forms, as eúnaċa, eunaċaiḋe, for éin, “birds.”
↑ Breaġḋa, “fine. splendid,” is probably derived from (Críoċ) Bhreaġ, the country around Tara, and the scene of the magnificence of the high-kings. In the same way, róṁḋa, ruaṁḋa occurs in ancient writings in the sense of “fine, magnificent,” derived from Róiṁ, Rome. The adjective ending ḋa is added, as in fearḋa, manly.
↑ In gránda, daonda, críonda, the d of the sufifix da is assimilated to the foregoing n, the two being sounded as nn (N in Fr. O’Growney’s Key). In seanda, banda, the d remains unassimilated.
↑ “It was on him, he had to.” Bhí sé air aige is
stronger still; “he had no option but to.”
↑ Note the position of go, which can never be separated, unlike “that” in English, from its verb. In English, “he knew that as soon as,” &c.
