Transcript

Bhí lánú bhocht in aice Shráid an Mhuilinn. Ar aon tslí bhí drochainm orthu go mbídís ag goid rudaí. Seán agus Siobhán dob ainm dóibh. Is dócha gurbh fhíor go mbídís ag goid mar do rug[1] na píléirí orthu ag goid caoireach[2]. Bhíodar gafa acu agus bhíodar ag gabháil tríd an sráid leo. Na daoine ag teacht ins na dóirse agus dá fhiarfaí do Sheán, "Ó airiú, a Sheáin, cad tá déanta agaibh, nó cad í an chúis athá acu oraibh?"

Do bhí an tseanabhean corraghlic, agus b'fhearr léi féin labhairt le heagla go neosadh Seán an fhírinn[3]. "Mhuise, go deimhin," a deireadh sí, "níl aon ní déanta againn. Cúis ghreannmhar athá acu orainn nuair ná híosfaimís cabáiste gan feoil."

Ar aon tslí, fuair an bheirt bliain phríosúin agus ní raibh sláinte Sheáin rómhaith tréis na bliana. Do buaileadh breoite é agus do cuireadh fios ar an tsagart chuige. "Sea, a Sheáin," a dúirt an sagart, “bhí drochainm ort agus bhí sé ráite gur ghoidis mórán, nó an fíor é?"

"An rabhais riamh ar aonach Chathair an Mhí, a athair?" arsa Seán.

"Ó, bhíos, a Sheáin," arsa an sagart.

"Ní haon bhrí," a dúirt sé, "a mbíonn do rudaí ar an aonach san seochas mar a ghoideas-sa."

"Airiú, a Sheáin," a dúirt sé, "is olc é sin, nó ar dheinis aon ní riamh," a dúirt sé, "a dhéanfadh aon tairfe dot anam?"

"Dheineas, a athair," ar seisean. "Do ghoideas fiche púnt ó Ghiúdaíoch i gcathair Chorcaí."

"Á, a Sheáin,” ar seisean, "ní chuireann san aon fheabhas ort, nó ar dheinis aon ní eile?"

Do chuimhnigh Seán ar feadh tamaill agus dúirt sé arís, "Á, dheineas go díreach mhuise, a athair," ar seisean, "agus dhóbair dom é a dhearúd. Mharaíos prócadóir," ar seisean.

"Sea, a Sheáin," a dúirt sé, "is measa ná san é. Tá drochscéal agat, agus ní fheadar cad a dhéanfad leat."

"Tá a fhios agamsa ná feadaraís," arsa Seán. "Scéal róthrom is ea é seo dhuitse, agus tá sé chomh maith agat é a fhágaint idir féin agus Dia," a dúirt sé. "Socróm le chéile é."

Ach nuair a cailleadh Seán níor ghoid Siobhán a thuilleadh as san amach.

Translation

There was a poor couple [who lived] near Millstreet. Anyhow, they were known for stealing things. Seán and Siobhán were their names. It is probably true that they used to steal, for the peelers caught them stealing sheep. They had been arrested and were being brought through the street by them. People were coming to the doors and asking Seán, "Ah, Seán, what have you done, or what are you charged with?"

The old lady was cunning, and she wanted to speak herself for fear Seán would tell the truth. "Well, indeed," she would say, "we have done nothing. They have a strange charge against us as we wouldn't eat cabbage without meat."

Anyhow, the pair got a year's prison and Seán's health wasn't too good after the year. He became ill and the priest was sent for. "Yes, Seán." said the priest, "You had a bad name and it was said that you stole a lot. Is it true?"

"Were you ever at the fair of Cathair an Mhí[4], Father?" said Seán.

"Oh, I was, Seán," said the priest.

"There isn't much," he said, "at that fair compared to what I have stolen."

"Ah, John," he said, "that is terrible. Did you ever do anything," he said, "that would do any good for your soul?"

"I did, Father," he said. "I stole twenty pounds from a Jew in the city of Cork."

"Ah, Seán," he said, "that does not improve you. Did you do anything else?"

Seán thought for a while and said, "Ah, I did indeed, Father," he said, "and I nearly forgot it. I killed a proctor," he said.

"Yes, Seán," he said, "that is worse. You tell a bad tale and I don't know what I will do with you."

"I know you don't know." said Seán. "This is too grave a tale for you so you may as well leave it between myself and God," he said. "We will settle it together."

But when Seán died Siobhán never stole again.

Footnotes

Commentary

Although this story has the outward appearance of a local legend, Brian Earls believes it to be of literary origin, and that the original version was in the English language. He claims that the quip by Siobhán about the couple being arrested for eating meat with their cabbage was a variant of an eighteenth-century literary joke about the Irish peasantry, and that the second half of the story dealing with Seán's confession and murder of a tithe-proctor must surely date to literary sources from the 1830s. See Brian Earls, 'A note on Seanchas Amhlaoibh Í Luínse', Béaloideas 52 (1984), 9-34: 14-20.

This track is transcribed in Brian Ó Cuív, The Irish of West Muskerry (Dublin, 1944), 92-5. A longer version of the story by the same speaker appears in Seán and Donncha Ó Cróinín, Seanachas Amhlaoibh Í Luínse (Dublin, 1980), 270-1.