West Irish folk-tales and romances/16
THE KING WHO HAD TWELVE SONS.
Narrator, John McGinty, Valley, Achill Island.
HE went down to the river every day and killed a salmon for each one of them. He saw a duck on the river and twelve (young) birds with her; and she was beating the twelfth away from her. He went to the old druid and asked what was the cause why the duck was beating away the twelfth bird from her.
“It was this,” said the old druid; “she gave the bird to God and the Djachwi.”
“Well, I have twelve sons,” said the king; “I will give one of them to God and to the Djachwi, as the duck is giving one of her birds to God and the Djachwi. The twelve are going to school, and you must tell me which of them it is best for me to give away.”
“Whichever of them is last at the gate in the evening, that is the man you will give away; and whatever money you have left out to give him throw it to him over the gate, and tell him he must go and seek his own fortune.”
The younger children were running on first to the house, being hungry, and the eldest was coming, reading a book, after them. The father was standing at the gate on the inside, and he threw him a purse of money, and told him he must go seek his fortune, that he gave him to God and to the Djachwi.
He went and spent that night with the old druid. He rose in the morning and washed his face, and prayed to God to put him in luck again until evening. He gave a good heap of the gold to the old druid. The old druid gave him a card and a bridle, and told him that any beast he would rub the card to, if his skin was full of disease, would be cured.[1] He went away that morning and he met with a king upon the road. The king asked him,—
“What are you seeking?”
“I am seeking a master,” said he.
“Your like is what I am wanting,” said the king. “I have three hundred horses and there is not one of them fit to put to my carriage, they are so full of lumps in their skin.”
“I am able to cure them,” said the other.
“How much do you ask till the end of a day and a year?”
“I'll be asking of you nothing at all but the beast that comes and puts the head in this bridle mine.”
“Very well,” said the king.
He was a good serving-boy, and he minded the horses. He was not two days with his master when two of them were cured, fit to go with the carriage. He went every evening to an old couple, and he used to get news in plenty from them.
“Did you hear the great news there is tonight?”
“I did not hear. What is the news?”
“The daughter of the King of the great Wren is to be devoured to-morrow by a piast."[2]
“I did not hear it,” said he.
“Was it in a wood or a hole in the ground you've been that you didn't hear it? Gentle and simple of the three islands are to be there tomorrow to look at the piast swallowing her—at twelve o'clock to-morrow.”
(The next day) when he found that every one was gone to the place where the piast was to come on land, he called out for his second best suit of clothes, and it came to him with a leap; and he shook the bridle, and the ugliest pony in the stables came to him and put her head into the bridle. “Be up riding on me with a jump” (said the pony) lowering himself on his two knees. He gave his face to the way and he would overtake the wind of March that was before him, and the wind of March that was after would not overtake him. When he came in sight of the place where the gathering was, the piast was coming till she was half upon the land; and he and the piast went fighting, till he tore her with his mouth and feet.
He came back and gave his face to the way, and he ran so near to the place where the king's daughter was to be swallowed that she caught the boot from the foot of the man who was riding on the pony. He came home and attended to his horses, and no one knew who was the man who was mounted on the pony that killed the piast. She proclaimed a gathering of all the men in the three islands, that she might see who the man was whom the shoe fitted. There was not a man at all coming whom the shoe would fit, and she was not going to marry any man but the one whom the shoe fitted. The old man said it was right for him to go to her to see if the shoe would fit him. He called for the suit of clothes that he wore on the day when the pony killed the piast, and he went to her (the king's daughter). She knew him at once. The shoe was in her hand, and it leaped from her hand till it went on his foot.
“You are the man that was on the pony on the day that he killed the piast, and you are the man whom I will marry.”
He was seven nights and seven days at feast and festival, and they were married on the eighth day. They spent that night part in talking and part in story-telling; till the early day came and the clear brightness on the morrow morning.
He said to her that he would be riding in the morning on the pony; and he was going, and he came on an apple of gold upon the strand, and the pony told him not to take up the apple or it would give him abundance of trouble.
“Whatever trouble it may give me I will take it up!”
He went home and the pearl of gold with him. In the morning he went to the old druid, and the old druid told him that it was the daughter of a king of the eastern world, who lost it from her hair;—that there was a pearl of gold on every rib of hair upon her head, and that she and her twelve attendant women were bathing in such a place the day she lost it.
“I will never stop,” said he, “till I see the woman who lost it.”
The pony told him she was hard to see.
“There are seven miles of hill on fire to cross before you come to where she is, and there are seven miles of steel thistles, and seven miles of sea for you to go over. I told you to have nothing to do with the apple. All the same it is as good for you to go riding on me till we try to go to her place.”
He went on his two knees, and he went riding on him, till he crossed the seven miles of hill on fire, and the seven miles of steel thistles, and the seven miles of sea. When they came to the castle in which she was, there was a great dinner that day with her, and a great gathering of company. There were three-and-twenty feet of moat to cross before the pony could get in. He rose with a high leap and crossed the three-and-twenty feet. He came down on the inside of the moat, and a report went in (to the castle) that such and such a stranger was there; and she heard it and sent one of her servants to him. He told the servant he could not go in till he got leave to put the pony in the stable. She herself came out to him, with a golden goblet in her hand full of wine, and she offered it to him; but he said he would be obliged to her if she would drink of it first. She drank some of the wine first, and then held it out to him; and what he did was to leap again upon the pony, and throw his arm round her waist, and lift her up beside him on the pommel; and the pony gave his head towards the gates and crossed out beyond them, and made no stop till he came to their own castle with the lady.
“Now,” said the pony, “strike a blow with your rod of druidism upon me, and make of me a rock of stone, and whatever time at all you are in need of me, you have nothing to do but strike another blow on me, and I am up as I was before.”
The woman was with him then; and the young queen he first married did not know there was such a person in the castle till the hen-wife told her. “Well!” said the hen-wife, “do you know what to do? He has no regard for you beside the other. There is an apple of gold on every rib of hair upon her head. You and he will be (playing cards) together to-night, and you will win the first game, and you will put him under bonds to go and bring you the black horse of the bank.
The two went playing that night. She won the first game, and he was to bring her the black horse of the bank. He went to the pony and struck a blow with his rod of druidism on him, and told her the news, that she put him under bonds to bring her the black horse of the bank. “I told you the first day,” said the pony, “to leave the pearl alone, or it would give you abundance of trouble; you must go now and cover me with leather all over, and put pitch and tar on the outside of the leather. I will then go down to the cliff to fight with the black horse of the bank, till I see if I'll be able to bring him to you. There is not a bit that he takes out of me that he will not get the full of his mouth of leather and pitch and tar, to my ribs.”
He went down, and he and the horse were fighting till he brought him down from the cliff to him, and he brought him home to his wife. She went then again to the hen-wife, to get more information from her. The hen-wife told her that unless she could win another game on him, and put him under bonds to bring her the skin of the wild pig from the eastern world, he and this young queen would put her to death. The two went playing that night, and he won the first game from her, and she said to him, “Give your judgment now.” “I perceive,” said he, “that if it was you who had to give the first judgment, you would give a brief judgment on me. But now I put you under bonds to go, and not to sleep a wink, but for one night only in the one house, till you bring me the heads of the three black ravens that are in the eastern world.”
She arose in the morning and went to the hen-wife, and told her: and the hen-wife said, “She had plenty of trouble before her ere she got the three black ravens from the eastern world. But now I have three brothers who are three giants, and to-night you will be with the first of them. I will give you a ring that will take you on your way swiftly to the king, and when you come to him you will give him the ring, and he will know who gave it to you. And great will be the welcome he will have for you, and he will give you every knowledge as far as the next brother.”
She gave her the ring, and she was with him that night, and he told her that “he himself was as much as third of the world, that his second brother was two-thirds of the world, and the third brother three-thirds, and that all the birds of the air were under high tribute to him.”
She arose in the morning and washed her face and hands, and prayed to God, to put her in luck; and that night she was with the second brother; and the third night she was with the third brother. She gave him the ring and he recognised it, and said he had not seen his sister for a hundred years. She told him the journey she was going.[3] “To-morrow,” said he, “they are coming with their high tribute, and unless I can get tidings from them I cannot give you tidings.” Then in the morning came all the birds of the air and paid to him their tribute, all except the eagle: “And great is my wonder,” said he, “that the eagle is last to-day, and no tidings are there with any other bird, unless it is with the eagle.” He blew a whistle, and it was not long till he saw a black lump coming in the sky, and who was it but the eagle! He told the eagle he would remit to him the tribute of the seven years, if he could give him tidings of the three black ravens that are in the eastern world. “Well!” said he, “it is a year and a day since I saw them, and I'll take another year and a day before I can come to you with account of them.” “You must wait here” (said he to the woman) to the end of a year and a day till the eagle comes back to me with news, and you will have nothing to do but sit down.”
When the day and the year were ended, the eagle came back and the three black ravens with him, and he gave them to the giant, and the giant took them from him. “And now” (said he) “when you go home he will ask you if you have them, and you will say you have not; and he will say he believes you never went at all to look for them, and you will take them with you then, and show them to him and let them out of your hand, and they will not stop till they come to me here.”
When she came home her husband said to her,—“Have you the three ravens?”
“If I promised to bring them to you, I did not promise to give them to you.” And she let them away.
He went that night to the old druid he had himself, and he told him the thing she said to him. And the old druid told him that unless he could succeed in banishing the hen-wife from the castle she would bring utter destruction on himself and the queen. “Go now, and there is not anyway to banish her but the way I tell you. Send her word this night, and invite her to play cards with you; and when you win the first game tell her she must go to the Gruagach of the Apple and bring to you the sword of light that is with the King of Rye, and then she has not a single chance of returning. The queen will have no one to tell her anything without the hen-wife, and you yourself and the other queen will be quiet and untroubled together then.”
He sent her word that night and she came, and he asked her would she play a game of cards? She said she would play: that great was the practice she learned in the house of her father and mother when she was young, and that she was very proud that he paid her a compliment so great as to invite her. He drew out a table and a pack of cards, and the two sat down beside the table, and it was five hundreds they had in the game. He succeeded until she put out the five hundreds.
“Now,” said the hen-wife, “give your judgment on me.”
“I put you under bonds and under curse of a year to go to the eastern world and to bring the sword of light belonging to the King of Rye from the eastern world, and not to sleep a wink, but one night only, in the one house before you come back again.”
She went with herself, and stopped not till she came to the castle of the King of Rye in the eastern world, and knocked at the Cuillë Coric, and the King of Rye came out and asked her what she was seeking.
“I am seeking,” said she, “your sword of light and the divided stone of your druidism.”
“Well, do you not see on the hill yonder all the heads of the champions who came to seek them from me, and never went man of them back to tell the story? and you are come, a woman, to seek!”
“Well,” said she, “it was not under protection of your shield I came at all, but under the protection of my own shield and blade.”
She and the King of Rye then went at one another, and the King of Rye was getting the better of her, and she asked him to give her quarter for her life till morning.
“Hold out your hand till I cut off the tips of your little finger that I may be able to recognise you, and you will not get quarter for your life but this turn, (not) if you come to-morrow.”
She went with herself and stopped that night at the smith's house; and the smith said to her,—
“It's a bad journey you've come on your two feet. Many's the good champion I've seen crossing yonder bridge, and a man of them to tell the story came back never. Unless you do the thing I tell you, you will get the like death. Go to-night,” said he, “and rise in the morning, and I will give you a sword if you pay me for my service; and I will cut off the tip of the little finger on your other hand, and you will go to the hall-door at the time when he is at his breakfast, and he will ask you, ’Haven't you a sudden desire to die that you come to me so early?’”
She went in the morning to the hall-door of the King of Rye, and he said to her,—
“Sudden is your desire to die since you come to me so early, and haven't given me leave to eat my breakfast; but that is the thing that will make your own life shorter. Stretch out your hand that I may see if it was you were here yesterday.”
She stretched out her two hands and he found the tips of her two little fingers were cut off, and he said she must have got advice from the smith when she did that. She took up from the ground the sword the smith gave her. When he saw the sword he begged for quarter for his life, for he knew the sword was equal to half the world, and that it was no good for him to fight against it. He said he would give her all he ever saw upon the earth, but would not face that sword she had.
“I am asking nothing of you except your sword of light and the divided stone of your druidism.”
“Those are the two things that it is worst for me to part from.”
He went in and brought them out to her, and she went with herself to the smith, and she spent that night at the smith's house, and gave him a good hansel of gold for the sword he gave her. “Now,” said the smith, “though he put you under bonds to bring the sword to him, you did not promise more than to bring it to him. When you come to him and the things with you, and you take them up in your two hands and show them to him, you will say, though you promised to bring them to him, you did not promise to bring them for him and you will let them go, and they will be with me here in the winking of your eye. Unless they come back to me, the King of Rye will put me to death, as he knows I gave you my sword; and there will be peace made between him and me, and the quarrel between us will be at an end.”[4]
*****
And when the first wife saw the second wife with her own eyes, she could esteem herself no longer, and she died of a broken heart.
- ↑ It must be supposed that the druid gave him further directions for his conduct as appears by the sequel.
- ↑ Piast is a Gaelic monster, not exactly equivalent to either serpent or dragon.
- ↑ i.e., the cause of her journey.
- ↑ The narrator's memory failed him at this point, and he was unable to relate the further developments of this remarkable game of plot and counterplot. Although the hen-wife was successful in the last event mentioned, it must be inferred that she was ultimately defeated. I believe there are other deficiencies in the story. One hears nothing more of the skin of the wild pig after its first mention, p. 203. The same remark applies to the Gruagach of the Apple, p. 206. On the other hand, “the divided stone of druidism” is brought in without explanation. It had not been asked for.