192
AN GAOḊAL.
as do ród go d-tiuḃrair ioca iomlán
uait do Ṁaim ṁantaċ & sluaiġ-siġe
Ṁuṁan, & mallaċt gan tráġaḋ, & don¬
as gan faoṫaṁ id' sgriosaḋ & id' ċrea¬
ċaḋ an g-céin ḃur beo ṫu. Imṫiġ a
ċlaoin-ṁic na mi-réire is iomḋa béim
cleiṫe na cinneaṁna ġéaḃṫar fós ionn¬
at."
Do luigeas as d'a éis sin go fatuir¬
seaċ, fann, & do ṫriallas air mo go
ṫiġ go duairc duḃrónaċ gan dóċas mo
ċaoṁnuiġṫe ar an díoġḃáil do ḃí go
neiṁneaċ ag fiaḋaċ ar mo lorg
I nDoṁnaċ fa fior don t-Siaḃarṫa
a n-duḃairt i d-taoḃ an ḃuille ḋeiġean¬
aiġ gan ḃeiṫ i n-diaiḋ a ḃuailte orm-sa
an traṫ úd, & nior ḃeag dam mar ċoṁ¬
arṫa ar an ḃ-firinne sin caoiteaċán na
baḋa do ḃí ag sgeaṁaoil le riṫ na h-
oiḋċe sin go h-uaigneaċ leointe d'eist¬
eas le go h-airṫeaċ ag saoileaċtain ar
d-tus naċ raiḃ innte aċt torann na
trom-ġaoiṫe aċt mo ḋiṫ níor ḃ'eaḋ, oir
d' airiġeas go grinn gul ġaiḃṫeaċ na
mná siḋe d'a ċur i n-uil dam gur gair¬
id go n-eugfaḋ aon dam ċineaḋ, & mo
ċreaċ ḋóiġte gurḃ í sin mo ḃean-ċéile.
Seaċtṁain 'n-a ḋiaḋ sin do ḃí sí i g-
coṁra ḋoiṁin fá uir na roilge & do
ċuaḋas i ḃaile, ar ḃ-fágḃáil inte run-
seirce mo ċroiḋe, go claoiḋte lad dom
ṁor-ṡeisear clainne.
Do ċleaċtas teiṁse annsan gan ċáiṁ,
gan fáṫ caointe, aċt monuar is cairde
geárr ḃí troime na tubaiste. Is searḃ
lem' inntinn an tan smuainim ar an ló
aduḃraḋ liom go raiḃ an tinneas fraoċ¬
ḋa úd d'a ngoirṫear an ḃolgaċ aga 'm
ġearr-ċaile fa sine. Fuair sí bás & a¬
ga 'n a ḋiaiḋ, gaċ neaċ dom ṁorseis¬
ear mar an g-ceudna; & mi-se ar ċul
mo ċinn ag a ngalar grána sin i dtaoḃ
leis na coṁarsainiḃ fá na g- cur i g-
cré na cille.
(Le ḃeiṫ leanta.)
(Translation)
[A typical Munster story.]
The Adventures of the Yellow Thresher.
(Continued)
I asked him how he was and he quickly replied, "I
am wearing the blanket and breaking the straw."
“Avoch,” said I, "sorrowful is thy condition."
“Thine own is no better, rogue," said he, "and
thou wilt find yourself in a worse without delay."
"Pity me Sir,“ said I, "and don't destroy me ;
many is the misfortune that has befallen me to this
day and I feel true sorrow for all I ever did contrary
to the ordinances of thy honorable fairy friends.“
"Ruffian," said he, “the final stroke has not
been struck on thee yet; go thy way until thou
shalt have given full compensation to the gap-too¬
thed one and the fairy hosts of Munster, and may
malediction without fail and misfortune without
ceasing tear and wound thee while thou art alive.
Away ! wicked son of disobedience ; many is the
blow that shall be hammered on thee yet with the
wattle of Fate."
Weary and exhausted I departed and went home
sad and melancholy without hope of protection a¬
gainst the venomed doom that hunted in my track.
Indeed it was true for the 'Sheevara' when he
said the last stroke had not been struck upon me
at that time ; and for me the cry of the banshee was
a sufficient token of that truth, wailing lonely and
sorrowful through the night. I listened attentively
thinking at first it was the roar of the heavy winds
but alas ! it was not so; too well I distinguished
her doleful cry forewarning me that in a short time
one of my race should die, and to my scalding woe
that one was my wife. A week after she was laid
low in the coffin beneath the church yard clay and
having placed there the loved one of my heart I
went home broken and faint to my seven children.
I passed some time after that without blame or
cause of lamentation, but my grief! I had but a
short respite from the weight of misfortune; I re¬
call with bitter recollection the day that I was told
my eldest little little girl was down with that des¬
troying disease called the small-pox. She died ; and
not long after every one of my seven likewise,
while I lay on my back with that detested disease,
depending on the neighbours to bury them under
the sod.
(To be continued.)
O'Curry's Lectures.
ON THE
MANUSCRIPT MATERIAL OF ANCIENT IRISH HIS¬
TORY.
LECTURE VI.
[Delivered June 26, 1856.]
(Continued, from p. 180.)
The following short, but very curious account of
the immediate cause of her death (date of which is
given by Mac Eghan, at the year 943, by mistake
for the year 948), appears to have been taken from
the poem just mentioned. I quote again from the
same translations of the annals of Clonmacnois —
"Gormpbly, daughter of King Flann Mayles¬
eachlyn, and queen of Ireland, died of a tedious
and grevious wound, which happened in this man¬
ner. she dreamed that she saw King Niall Glun¬
duffe ; whereupon she got up and sate in her bed
to behold him ; whom he for anger would forsake,
and leave the chamber; and as he was departing
in that angry motion (as she thought), she gave a
