There was a king in Desmond whose name was Coluath O'Hara, and he had
three daughters. On a time when the king was away from home, the eldest
daughter took a thought that she'd like to be married. So she went up in
the castle, put on the cloak of darkness which her father had, and
wished for the most beautiful man under the sun as a husband for
herself.
She got her wish; for scarcely had she put off the cloak of darkness,
when there came, in a golden coach with four horses, two black and two
white, the finest man she had ever laid eyes on, and took her away.
When the second daughter saw what had happened to her sister, she put on
the cloak of darkness, and wished for the next best man in the world as
a husband.
She put off the cloak; and straightway there came, in a golden coach
with four black horses, a man nearly as good as the first, and took her
away.
The third sister put on the cloak, and wished for the best white dog in
the world.
Presently he came, with one man attending, in a golden coach and four
snow-white horses, and took the youngest sister away.
When the king came home, the stable-boy told him what had happened while
he was gone. He was enraged beyond measure when he heard that his
youngest daughter had wished for a white dog, and gone off with him.
When the first man brought his wife home he asked: "In what form will
you have me in the daytime,--as I am now in the daytime, or as I am now
at night?"
"As you are now in the daytime."
So the first sister had her husband as a man in the daytime; but at
night he was a seal.
The second man put the same question to the middle sister, and got the
same answer; so the second sister had her husband in the same form as
the first.
When the third sister came to where the white dog lived, he asked her:
"How will you have me to be in the daytime,--as I am now in the day, or
as I am now at night?"
"As you are now in the day."
So the white dog was a dog in the daytime, but the most beautiful of men
at night.
After a time the third sister had a son; and one day, when her husband
was going out to hunt, he warned her that if anything should happen the
child, not to shed a tear on that account.
While he was gone, a great gray crow that used to haunt the place came
and carried the child away when it was a week old.
Remembering the warning, she shed not a tear for the loss.
All went on as before till another son was born. The husband used to go
hunting every day, and again he said she must not shed a tear if
anything happened.
When the child was a week old a great gray crow came and bore him away;
but the mother did not cry or drop a tear.
All went well till a daughter was born. When she was a week old a great
gray crow came and swept her away. This time the mother dropped one tear
on a handkerchief, which she took out of her pocket, and then put back
again.
When the husband came home from hunting and heard what the crow had
done, he asked the wife, "Have you shed tears this time?"
"I have dropped one tear," said she.
Then he was very angry; for he knew what harm she had done by dropping
that one tear.
Soon after their father invited the three sisters to visit him and be
present at a great feast in their honor. They sent messages, each from
her own place, that they would come.
The king was very glad at the prospect of seeing his children; but the
queen was grieved, and thought it a great disgrace that her youngest
daughter had no one to come home with her but a white dog.
The white dog was in dread that the king wouldn't leave him inside with
the company, but would drive him from the castle to the yard, and that
the dogs outside wouldn't leave a patch of skin on his back, but would
tear the life out of him.
The youngest daughter comforted him. "There is no danger to you," said
she, "for wherever I am, you'll be, and wherever you go, I'll follow and
take care of you."
When all was ready for the feast at the castle, and the company were
assembled, the king was for banishing the white dog; but the youngest
daughter would not listen to her father,--would not let the white dog
out of her sight, but kept him near her at the feast, and divided with
him the food that came to herself.
When the feast was over, and all the guests had gone, the three sisters
went to their own rooms in the castle.
Late in the evening the queen took the cook with her, and stole in to
see what was in her daughters' rooms. They were all asleep at the time.
What should she see by the side of her youngest daughter but the most
beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on.
Then she went to where the other two daughters were sleeping; and there,
instead of the two men who brought them to the feast, were two seals,
fast asleep.
The queen was greatly troubled at the sight of the seals. When she and
the cook were returning, they came upon the skin of the white dog. She
caught it up as she went, and threw it into the kitchen fire.
The skin was not five minutes in the fire when it gave a crack that woke
not only all in the castle, but all in the country for miles around.
The husband of the youngest daughter sprang up. He was very angry and
very sorry, and said: "If I had been able to spend three nights with you
under your father's roof, I should have got back my own form again for
good, and could have been a man both in the day and the night; but now I
must go."
He rose from the bed, ran out of the castle, and away he went as fast as
ever his two legs could carry him, overtaking the one before him, and
leaving the one behind. He was this way all that night and the next day;
but he couldn't leave the wife, for she followed from the castle, was
after him in the night and the day too, and never lost sight of him. In
the afternoon he turned, and told her to go back to her father; but she
would not listen to him. At nightfall they came to the first house they
had seen since leaving the castle. He turned and said: "Do you go inside
and stay in this house till morning; I'll pass the night outside where I
am."
The wife went in. The woman of the house rose up, gave her a pleasant
welcome, and put a good supper before her. She was not long in the house
when a little boy came to her knee and called her "Mother."
The woman of the house told the child to go back to his place, and not
to come out again.
"Here are a pair of scissors," said the woman of the house to the king's
daughter, "and they will serve you well. Whatever ragged people you see,
if you cut a piece off their rags, that moment they will have new
clothes of cloth of gold."
She stayed that night, for she had good welcome. Next morning when she
went out, her husband said: "You'd better go home now to your father."
"I'll not go to my father if I have to leave you," said she.
So he went on, and she followed. It was that way all the day till night
came; and at nightfall they saw another house at the foot of a hill, and
again the husband stopped and said: "You go in; I'll stop outside till
morning."
The woman of the house gave her a good welcome. After she had eaten and
drunk, a little boy came out of another room, ran to her knee, and said,
"Mother." The woman of the house sent the boy back to where he had come
from, and told him to stay there.
Next morning, when the princess was going out to her husband, the woman
of the house gave her a comb, and said: "If you meet any person with a
diseased and a sore head, and draw this comb over it three times, the
head will be well, and covered with the most beautiful golden hair ever
seen."
She took the comb, and went out to her husband.
"Leave me now," said he, "and go back to your own father."
"I will not," said she, "but I will follow you while I have the power."
So they went forward that day, as on the other two.
At nightfall they came to a third house, at the foot of a hill, where
the princess received a good welcome. After she had eaten supper, a
little girl with only one eye came to her knee and said, "Mother."
The princess began to cry at sight of the child, thinking that she
herself was the cause that it had but one eye. Then she put her hand
into her pocket where she kept the handkerchief on which she had dropped
the tear when the gray crow carried her infant away. She had never used
the handkerchief since that day, for there was an eye on it.
She opened the handkerchief, and put the eye in the girl's head. It grew
into the socket that minute, and the child saw out of it as well as out
of the other eye; and then the woman of the house sent the little one to
bed.
Next morning, as the king's daughter was going out, the woman of the
house gave her a whistle, and said: "Whenever you put this whistle to
your mouth and blow on it, all the birds of the air will come to you
from every quarter under the sun. Be careful of the whistle, as it may
serve you greatly."
"Go back to your father's castle," said the husband when she came to
him, "for I must leave you to-day."
They went on together a few hundred yards, and then sat on a green
hillock, and he told the wife: "Your mother has come between us; but for
her we might have lived together all our days. If I had been allowed to
pass three nights with you in your father's house, I should have got
back my form of a man both in the daytime and the night. The Queen of
Tir na n-Og [the land of youth] enchanted and put on me a spell, that
unless I could spend three nights with a wife under her father's roof in
Erin, I should bear the form of a white dog one half of my time; but if
the skin of the dog should be burned before the three nights were over,
I must go down to her kingdom and marry the queen herself. And 'tis to
her I am going to-day. I have no power to stay, and I must leave you; so
farewell, you'll never see me again on the upper earth."
He left her sitting on the mound, went a few steps forward to some
bulrushes, pulled up one, and disappeared in the opening where the rush
had been.
She stopped there, sitting on the mound lamenting, till evening, not
knowing what to do. At last she bethought herself, and going to the
rushes, pulled up a stalk, went down, followed her husband, and never
stopped till she came to the lower land.
After a while she reached a small house near a splendid castle. She went
into the house and asked, could she stay there till morning. "You can,"
said the woman of the house, "and welcome."
Next day the woman of the house was washing clothes, for that was how
she made a living. The princess fell to and helped her with the work.
In the course of that day the Queen of Tir na n-Og and the husband of
the princess were married.
Near the castle, and not far from the washerwoman's, lived a henwife
with two ragged little daughters. One of them came around the
washerwoman's house to play. The child looked so poor and her clothes
were so torn and dirty that the princess took pity on her, and cut the
clothes with the scissors which she had.
That moment the most beautiful dress of cloth of gold ever seen on woman
or child in that kingdom was on the henwife's daughter.
When she saw what she had on, the child ran home to her mother as fast
as ever she could go.
"Who gave you that dress?" asked the henwife.
"A strange woman that is in that house beyond," said the little girl,
pointing to the washerwoman's house.
The henwife went straight to the Queen of Tir na n-Og and said: "There
is a strange woman in the place, who will be likely to take your husband
from you, unless you banish her away or do something to her; for she has
a pair of scissors different from anything ever seen or heard of in this
country."
When the queen heard this she sent word to the princess that, unless the
scissors were given up to her without delay, she would have the head off
her.
The princess said she would give up the scissors if the queen would let
her pass one night with her husband.
The queen answered that she was willing to give her the one night. The
princess came and gave up the scissors, and went to her own husband;
but the queen had given him a drink, and he fell asleep, and never woke
till after the princess had gone in the morning.
Next day another daughter of the henwife went to the washerwoman's house
to play. She was wretched-looking, her head being covered with scabs and
sores.
The princess drew the comb three times over the child's head, cured it,
and covered it with beautiful golden hair. The little girl ran home and
told her mother how the strange woman had drawn the comb over her head,
cured it, and given her beautiful golden hair.
The henwife hurried off to the queen and said: "That strange woman has a
comb with wonderful power to cure, and give golden hair; and she'll take
your husband from you unless you banish her or take her life."
The queen sent word to the princess that unless she gave up the comb,
she would have her life.
The princess returned as answer that she would give up the comb if she
might pass one night with the queen's husband.
The queen was willing, and gave her husband a draught as before. When
the princess came, he was fast asleep, and did not waken till after she
had gone in the morning.
On the third day the washerwoman and the princess went out to walk, and
the first daughter of the henwife with them. When they were outside the
town, the princess put the whistle to her mouth and blew. That moment
the birds of the air flew to her from every direction in flocks. Among
them was a bird of song and new tales. The princess went to one side
with the bird. "What means can I take," asked she, "against the queen to
get back my husband? Is it best to kill her, and can I do it?"
"It is very hard," said the bird, "to kill her. There is no one in all
Tir na n-Og who is able to take her life but her own husband. Inside a
holly-tree in front of the castle is a wether, in the wether a duck, in
the duck an egg, and in that egg is her heart and life. No man in Tir na
n-Og can cut that holly-tree but her husband."
The princess blew the whistle again. A fox and a hawk came to her. She
caught and put them into two boxes, which the washerwoman had with her,
and took them to her new home.
When the henwife's daughter went home, she told her mother about the
whistle. Away ran the henwife to the queen, and said: "That strange
woman has a whistle that brings together all the birds of the air, and
she'll have your husband yet, unless you take her head."
"I'll take the whistle from her, anyhow," said the queen. So she sent
for the whistle.
The princess gave answer that she would give up the whistle if she might
pass one night with the queen's husband.
The queen agreed, and gave him a draught as on the other nights. He was
asleep when the princess came and when she went away.
Before going, the princess left a letter with his servant for the
queen's husband, in which she told how she had followed him to Tir na
n-Og, and had given the scissors, the comb, and the whistle, to pass
three nights in his company, but had not spoken to him because the queen
had given him sleeping draughts; that the life of the queen was in an
egg, the egg in a duck, the duck in a wether, the wether in a holly-tree
in front of the castle, and that no man could split the tree but
himself.
As soon as he got the letter the husband took an axe, and went to the
holly-tree. When he came to the tree he found the princess there before
him, having the two boxes with the fox and the hawk in them.
He struck the tree a few blows; it split open, and out sprang the
wether. He ran scarce twenty perches before the fox caught him. The fox
tore him open; then the duck flew out. The duck had not flown fifteen
perches when the hawk caught and killed her, smashing the egg. That
instant the Queen of Tir na n-Og died.
The husband kissed and embraced his faithful wife. He gave a great
feast; and when the feast was over, he burned the henwife with her
house, built a palace for the washerwoman, and made his servant
secretary.
They never left Tir na n-Og, and are living there happily now; and so
may we live here.