Irish life — translated from the Irish. Printed from the sole surviving MS., Brussels, Royal Library 2324-40, ff. 87r-98r (O’Clery transcript of 1634/5 from Maolechlainn Ó Callannáin’s copy of 1528, made for the coarb of Mac Creiche at Cell Maelodrain).

¹ Mac Creiche mac Pesslain meic Erce — of Corcu Mruadh Nínóis was his race. A hundred and eighty years was his age from the day of his birth to the day of his death. This was the beginning of his grace: he went into a hermitage that is between Formáel (a place-name) and the Eidhnech (a river). Cluain h-Í is the name of the stead where he was practising his prayer.

² This was the size of the cell — four stones: a stone at his back, a stone on each of his two sides, and a stone before his face. There Mac Creiche began to keep the Lent for fear and dread of hell. And he brought into the hermitage for food but one loaf and four stalks of watercress; and he tasted nothing of them save on Sundays only. And when he had finished the Lent, he ate no food but bread and greenstuff on Easter Sunday. Then his kindred found him in the hermitage after that, and he was brought in, and a watch was kept on him long thereafter.

³ Another time he went into the same hermitage and stayed in it for another forty nights without food, without drink, save a little water — and a hind used to visit him and shed her milk for him alone in a little stone cup or hole in the wall of the hermitage where he was; as the verse that is in Mac Creiche’s metre proves:

The hind used to visit
into the stone cell,
and shed into his ballán
her milk for Mac Creiche.

A stone ballán was his
in the hermitage surely —
for the noble joyful cleric
the hind used to shed it.

And the hind used to go off through the woods after that, and come again.

⁴ One day as the cleric was chanting his psalms in the hermitage, a young warrior saw the holy man and started, and spoke not. And the cleric asked him who he was. “Becedán is my name,” said he, “and I am watching my land; and I bind my share on you.” “Let me not be bound from it then,” said the cleric, “and take a blessing; and do not proclaim me to anyone else.” And he took the gospel and prayed.

⁵ The young warrior went off, and while he was there he saw a robber-band coming to him — three nines of them. And he asked them from which they came. “We have come from Gleann Geimhin, and the Glasanaigh are our names.” The young warrior chanced upon them — Bécedán was his name. And they were a long while wounding and slaughtering him; and they thought they had cut off his head when they had wounded him all. God and the holy cleric’s prayer saved him; and it was a wisp of sedge that was in place of the young warrior’s head with them. The young warrior went off safe from them.

⁶ The robbers asked: “What saved you, O young warrior?” “It saved me,” said he, “a cleric of God who gave me the gospel long since, before fighting with you.” “Where is that holy cleric?” said the robber-band. “What do want of him?” said Bécedán. “We wish to serve him, and to serve God through him from this till doom, for the sake of the deliverance and the miracles done for you.”

⁷ The robbers and Béicedán made peace with one another. “It has gone well with you,” said the young warrior; “you shall have God’s peace for ever for that resolve.” The young warrior went to the cell where the young angelic cleric was chanting his psalms. The young warrior and the robbers blessed him; and they all knelt to him. “Your will on us, O cleric,” said they. “I accept of you,” said Mac Creiche. They laid aside all their weapons; and offered their bodies and souls to God and to Mac Creiche. And Bécedán offered his land and ground to Mac Creiche — Cell Meic Creiche of the wood; and it is on that young warrior’s land Cell t-Senbotha was founded today.

⁸ As for the Glasanaigh — beds and woods(?) were made for them of their own weapons; and iron girdles were put on them in token of captivity and piety; and they set to clearing the wood, and made a great meadow there in the middle of the wood — the robbers and Béicedán; and Cell t-Senbotha is that stead’s name for ever. And those robbers — the Glasanaigh — and Bécedán were the first monks put under the church’s earth, as it is in Mac Creiche’s metre:

They thought they had slain
the boasting broken man;
his head — fame without trouble —
was but a sod of sedge-grass.

The robbers kneel secretly
to Mac Creiche,
on every path unturned(?),
with the iron girdles on them.

⁹ Then Mac Creiche and Mainchín went west to Inis Locha Ratha Maigi, because Mainchín was a son of his, and it was he who baptised him, and with him he read, and he was his soul-friend. So they went west to Fidh-inis; and Mac Creiche commanded Mainchín to put a fetter on his feet; and Mainchín put the fetter on him, as he told him. “Give me the key now,” said Mac Creiche. Mainchín gave him the key. Mac Creiche cast the key into the sea’s mouth, and gave his word that he would not leave the island till that same key should come to open the fetter that was on him.

¹⁰ Then Ailbe came from Imlech Iubair going to Aran; and came to Fidh-inis where Mac Creiche was. And that was not his first name, but Mac Croide Ailbhe (Son of Ailbe’s heart); Mac Creiche was his name when he brought back the prey northwards from Aed mac Eachach. Now Ailbe asked Mac Creiche to come with him to Aran; and Mac Creiche told Ailbe how the fetter was on him, and where the key had been thrown.

¹¹ They stayed that night together with Mac Creiche; and God gave them each his share. And the next day Ailbe went for water to the little well in the cliff on the north side of the island, and saw a salmon in the well. He brought it to the house, and cut and cleaned it; and the key was found in the salmon’s belly. Mac Creiche knelt to Ailbe for that miracle done on him; and Ailbe opened it for Mac Creiche, and Mac Creiche went with him to Aran.

¹² Now Fidh-inis was given by Mac Creiche to Mainchín, because Mainchín was Mac Creiche’s own fosterling; and he was a man of grace; and it is he who went to Rome on the errand when they took the Finn-faoidech (the white crozier) to the great altar of Rome with them. And Mainchín would not stay after him in the stead, were it not under Mac Creiche’s rule.

¹³ Then the clerics went west to Clúain Dírair — to the camp of Baoth Brónach, king of Corcu Mhruadh at that time; a man who had never laughed a laugh. “Shall I go with you?” said Mainchín. “Yes, go,” said Mac Creiche. “Shall we ask a boon?” said Mainchín. “What boon?” said Mac Creiche. “This: a ridge of grain for their provision(?)” “I grant it,” said Mac Creiche. Mac Creiche sat at the head of the green, and Mainchín went into the fort to speak with Báoth Brónach, to ask a ridge of grain for provision for Mac Creiche and company; for Ailbe was coming to them after Aran. “you shall have a ridge from me,” said Baoth Brónach.

¹⁴ Then Baoth Brónach’s reaping-party were reaping a cornfield that was in front of the fort. Now Mainchín began reaping his ridge, with Mac Creiche sitting at the ridge’s head. A great burst of rain and wind came on them, and carried all Baoth Brónach’s grain to the sea, for the greatness of the storm. All the reaping-party went to the fort save the clerics alone. Mainchín kept reaping his ridge, and the clerics sat watching him; and not a spot of their clothing or bodies was wet — but it was the beautiful bright sun, the greatest, that shone on them, as the verse in Mac Creiche’s metre says:

It was rain without shame(?)
on Baoth Brónach’s reapers;
it carried their grain away
to the great sea, the grey sea.

It was a fine drying sun
that was given — no concealment —
it was bright, it was mighty,
on Mac Creiche’s grain.

¹⁵ Then Baoth Brónach offered himself and his children and his fort and his land to Mac Creiche and to Ailbe, that none of his children or offspring should ever go to another church, as it is in the verse:

Baoth Brónach offered —
the offering that is not hid —
Clúain Dírair, strong its base,
for ever to Mac Creiche.

It is the church today where the fort was; it is the burial-ground where the clerics sat; it is the ridge where the great cross stands between the church and the sea and Ailbe’s strand.

¹⁶ Then Mac Creiche gave Sliabh Gainimh from Fothraibhe Senáin west to Fertais Muine Muirpighi east, between the church and sea, that the sea should never pass over land there, and that no fear or sea-terror should ever be on anyone dwelling(?) in it. It is from that port that Ailbe went to Tír Tairngire with seven of his people sent into the western sea. It was at Suidhe Ailbhe that Mac Creiche and Ailbe were from hour to hour watching the wave; and the wave never came past the place where they were, and never shall. Then Ailbe left that the people of the sea should serve the church in that port for ever.

¹⁷ There too Ailbe left words and legacies to Mac Creiche’s successor — that none who comes to Mac Creiche’s successor’s point should go without Ailbe’s mass in heaven(?). “Alas,” said Mac Creiche to Ailbe, “sad is the parting to be between us on earth. Since I have spent my youth in your company, may I spend my old age so.” “you shall have your company-reward,” said Ailbe, “but we are united on earth, and united we shall be in heaven. Ask a boon of me before we part; what do you wish?” said Ailbe. “This I wish,” said Mac Creiche, “since I am aged and withered — that length of days be given to my successors after me, to everyone of them who does my will.” “I will pray my Lord,” said Ailbe, “and if I obtain that, you shall have it.” Then Ailbe prayed his Lord and got his boon. And Ailbe said to Mac Creiche: “I have obtained the boon from my Lord, and you shall have it from me.” Then Mac Creiche prayed the boon from Ailbe, that length of days be given to his successors after him. Then Ailbe left heaven and length of days to Mac Creiche’s successors.

¹⁸ There too Ailbe left that every true boon anyone should ask in that port at Ailbe’s strand — and provided it be at Ailbe’s or Mac Creiche’s shrine he asks it — his boon should be given him. And it is from there that seven of Ailbe’s and Mac Creiche’s people shall go to the Land of Promise(?). And it is then Ailbe with his monks shall go to the Land of Promise on doom’s day. Great indeed are the rays and miracles of that seat on the strand. Now Ailbe blessed the church and new temple of that stead; for he was the high-bishop of Munster at that time, and Mac Creiche was a bishop too.

¹⁹ There they bade each other farewell — Ailbe and Mac Creiche; and Ailbe went into Aran on his pilgrimage; and Mac Creiche stayed visiting his church, for it was newly taken by him. Then messengers came from the Ciarraige for Mac Creiche, that he might come to deliver them from a plague, for his mother was of them. And this was that plague — the Crom Chonnaill that was oppressing them. Mac Creiche went out at once(?); and all the Ciarraige were in Magh Uladh to meet him. They all rose before him and gave him right fond welcome. Mac Creiche was lifted from his chariot, and took gospel and prayer over them, and preached the word of God to them, and they all fasted — Mac Creiche and the Ciarraige — that night, and the order of mass was made for them the next day.

²⁰ Then the three sons of Cuilinn — the three sons of Mac Creiche’s mother’s brother — who were in the east at Ráith Muine: as they came east the Crom Chonnaill came on them, and the three brothers fell by it. Mac Creiche raised the Finn-faoidech on high at seeing his brothers dead. They were not long there till they saw a bolt of fire come from heaven to them, and it fell on the Crom Chonnaill, and made dust and ashes of it before the hosts. All knelt through that miracle to Mac Creiche. Therefore the Grave of Clann Cuilinne and of the Crom Chonnaill is on Magh Uladh.

²¹ Then the three sons of Cremthann mac Cobthaigh went south on a raid to Rinn Ruis Altraighe Chind Bera, and took prisoners of men and cattle around the three sons of Meallán mac Maoile Dóid meic Scelláin of the Alltraige of Cend Bhera. Word went from the Ciarraige after the prey, and Mac Creiche’s gospel and the Finn-faoidech were brought there, that the settlement might be the better. And no good settlement was found there from the king until they came back southwards. The messengers turned south, and got no good answer. “What did you bring with you for remedies?” said Mac Creiche. “We brought but the division of our cattle before us, and the binding of our men.” “Did you bring a final answer?” said Mac Creiche. “We did,” said the messengers. “If you will have the freeing of the men taken south, this is the last answer we brought: a cow for every scciatrach(?) in Ciarraige, and an ounce for every woman, and an everlasting hostage of attendance.”

²² Then the Ciarraige went into counsel, and what came of their counsel was to give their blessings on their near son — on Mac Creiche, for he was their near son. And there was a fitting time for it: when the raid came, he was to meet them in Tír dá Madh Neimhedh. “I shall go on your blessing then,” said Mac Creiche, “whatever God decides of it.” Mac Creiche went after the prey to Aiced n-Aiscinn and to Lios n-Airthir; and all the Eóganacht were before him there around Crimthann mac Cobhthaigh with his sons.

²³ Mac Creiche went in his carríne(carriage-frame) to the middle of the assembly, and blessed the young men, and told them the reason he had come. “What is the reason?” said they. “I have come after the booty and the prey, and to ask my reverence and honour of you; and I am feeble and wretched; and it were better for you to have my blessing than to keep what I ask.” And that was true of him, for he was a hundred and eighty years old when he went to heaven; and his lower chariot needed a hide-strip(?) to hold it together when he was celebrating or addressing anyone. Now he was a hundred and forty-seven years old when he came to speak with Crimthann mac Cobhthaigh, king of Eóganacht Locha Léin.

²⁴ And Mac Creiche said: “If it please you, Crimthann, it is time to give us an answer on the matter we have come for.” “Great is my ill-will to you, O cleric,” said Crimthann, “namely to claim of me the lively folk who were raiding our land.” Said the cleric: “It is not much, since it is on God we go.” Then Aodh Damháin said: “The young men think it no small thing to give you a single man of the booty.” “Who said that?” said Mac Creiche. “Aodh Damháin,” said Mainchín. Said Mac Creiche: “That is what he shall have from God — what he measured to me: one man(?).” Then Aodh Damháin grew angry at that and held his peace(?).

²⁵ Then Aodh Furaráin said: “The cleric is not to be refused half the booty, for it is on God he asks.” “Who said that?” said Mac Creiche. “Aodh Furaráin,” said his fosterling. “He shall have from me and from God half the goodness and honour of this land and its people, though it be contested with them.” Now it was for this that Crimthann’s heart inclined to Aodh Bennáin, for he was dearer to him than any other son. Aodh Bennáin rose up and said: “If it be by the cleric’s will, O youths,” said he, “give him all the booty you have.” “Who said that?” said Mac Creiche. “Aodh Bennáin,” said Mainchín. “It is long since that son came,” said Mac Creiche. “He shall have from me and from God the full goodness and honour of this land and its people always, and of his son and grandson.”

²⁶ Then Crimthann mac Cobhthaigh and his sons went into counsel — without anyone calling them of their household. “What will you do, O youths,” said Crimthann, “with this old elder who has come to you? Yet there has not come, and there shall not come, a man of his age to claim a matter of anyone. It is a great assembly for anyone against whom he contends, for his age’s sake alone. Take counsel,” said Crimthann, “and bring the whole assembly to you,” said he. The whole assembly was brought to them.

²⁷ “If it be done by me,” said Aodh Bennáin, “since it is not the beginning of lordship nor the end of pride(?) — you could not endure the curse of there stream-fed elder for the sake of the booty you have here; for he is lasting, and pays a fine(?), and leaves a blessing; and there is no sea between us and the stead from which this booty was taken; and if we knew, we should not reach the stead we are in(?), for wherever he be, it is sacred seniority; and moreover his tidings have come from the land he was in before he came to us. Let us ourselves pass judgement on ourselves,” said Aodh Bennáin, “and if he be of God’s people, it is full reverence to the cleric what we have brought him; for we knew in the land we went to that he was to meet us there. And though his human side be so, you have three of his mother’s brothers here in captivity, who have no good on earth. And take good counsel this once,” said Aodh Bennáin.

²⁸ “We shall do it,” said Crimthann, “but for the obstinacy of Aodh Damháin.” “Ill is my mood,” said Aodh Damháin. “And give God’s will, and my will,” said Mac Creiche, “and he shall be well again.” “The single successor promised him seems little to him.” “Is that what makes him sullen with us?” said Mac Creiche. “It is,” said Crimthann. “There shall be from me,” said Mac Creiche, “many thousands of fosterlings of his(?), besides that single successor, and every man’s envy shall be on him.’ Then the booty was given to Mac Creiche — both man and cattle — with full restitution, and with his own perpetual rule over it for ever.

²⁹ Then Crimthann with his sons named the price of his reverence and his blessing to the cleric — to Mac Creiche — whatever should be ordained for themselves. “I shall take it,” said Mac Creiche: “fifty milk-yielding cows, and fifty fat hogs, and fifty summer-dry cows for their feeding; and the elders’ clothing every time it comes from my successor to your successor.” “you shall have that,” said Crimthann with his sons, “and though something greater than that were asked it should be given, and what you ask, you shall have your due of us for it for ever.” “I shall give your sons my three blessings: the blessing of lordship without decline; the blessing of wealth without loss; the blessing of wisdom with honour. you shall have those three blessings on condition of obedience to my successor after me.”

³⁰ The booty was given by Aodh Bennáin mac Crimthain. It was given by Máel Dúin mac Aodha Bennáin. It was given moreover by Foircheallach mac Aodha Foirinn. It was given by Cuimine mac Aodha Bennáin. It was given moreover by Congal mac Maoile Duin meic Aodha Bennáin. It was given by Cairpre mac Condinisc meic Foircheallaigh meic Aodha. It was given by Aodh mac Conuing meic Cuimine. It was given moreover by Aodh Allán mac Cairpre of the seed of Aodh Furinn. It was given by Maol Anfaidh mac Cuimine. It was given by Cú Fhoinghealta mac Cairpre of the seed of Aodh Furinn. It was given moreover by Maol Dúin mac Aodha meic Conaing of this same law. Those were twelve kings of Eóganacht Locha Léin.

³¹ Then Mac Creiche came south and his mother’s three brothers with him, with all the wealth that was taken south with them. And he did a wondrous miracle as he came south, when his mother’s brothers were feeble and thirsty after their captivity, and great thirst seized them as they went west from Ráith Muighi. Mac Creiche stamped on the ground and water came up out of it; and they all quenched their thirst from it. And they made a cashel round the well, and that well is on Magh Uladh; and it heals every sickness and every hurt to which its water is brought.

³² Now the Ciarraige were assembled on Magh Uladh to meet him, and gave him blessings for the miracle he had done them — that the Crom Chonnaill had been driven from them as they went south; and for their prey and the freeing of the captives from the bondage they were in, so that he brought them all into one assembly(?). Then the Ciarraige gave him all their blessings in one assembly, for the son was a noble kinsman to them; and he did them good service in everything they asked him. He gave them a blessing too, and gave them the due of his church — the first-fruits from them while it was not being brought to himself(?). He rose to bless them quickly(?).

³³ Then the Ciarraige went apart into counsel without the cleric, to see what they would do for him. The Ciarraige resolved on an offering to their kinsman — to Mac Creiche, for he was a good fosterling to them and zealous on their behalf — after he had given his church’s due and his blessing to his kinsmen(?), for profit to themselves — whichever of them does good(?). This was the end they put on Mac Creiche in their assembly: sixty fair cows from them every third year, or, if they preferred, a scruple of every pair(?) from them every third year. Mac Creiche left these legacies to the Ciarraige: strength in their men, and victory of contest and valour on them, and victory of produce and milk in their soil.

³⁴ Mac Creiche bade them farewell and left his perpetual own blessing thereafter with his mother’s people; and then Mac Creiche went to Imleach Iubhair to Ailbe, for he was Ailbe’s heart’s son. And he was not long there till messengers from Tuadh-Mumain and Corcumrúadh came to him that he might come to speak with them at Carn Meic Táil; and a blessing was got of Ailbe for the journey there. “I am loath for that,” said Mac Creiche, “and though loath, I shall go.” He was feeble and wretched and withered then, for his age. Yet Mac Creiche and Mainchín set out from Imleach Iubhair till they reached Inis Tóma Fionnlocha to Luchthigern, and stayed there from Saturday to Tuesday.

³⁵ And Mac Creiche told Luchthigern the matter he had risen for; and Mac Creiche commanded Luchthigern to come on the same errand — to ask for the cáirde(compact); and said it were fitter for him to make a les of Tuadh-Muman than of Luchthigern(?). “That is true,” said Luchthigern, “and I shall go with you.” “How many will you bring?” said Mac Creiche. “I shall bring but one man.” “How so?” said Mac Creiche. “Thus,” said Luchthigern, “though you take a great refusal(?) with you, I would bring another great refusal with me. And since you have taken one man with you, I shall take another man with me.” So the four of them set out till they reached Carn Meic Táil; and Tuadh-Muma and Corcu Mruad were assembled for them then, and gave them all their blessing for coming to ask a compact for them about the Boroma tribute against Aodh mac Eachdach — the king of Connacht.

³⁶ “Shall we go with them?” said Luchthigern. “We shall not go,” said Mac Creiche, “until the booty is in readiness for us.” Then they were pledged to go north for the whole tribute(?). “If you believe me,” said Mac Creiche, “it is hard for me to travel; I am feeble and I am withered, the more for my age.” “Your blessing will give strength to the young men,” said all. “That is true,” said Mac Creiche. “I shall go whatever God gives me in it. Is the carríne sound, Mainchín?” said Mac Creiche. “It is sound,” said Mainchín. “Let me be borne hence,” said Mac Creiche, “and let me be carried in my carríne. And let the booty be brought too,” said he, “between cattle and clothing and men, till the whole booty be shown there(?). Well now, Corcu Mruadh, is there in Ireland a man of a hundred and sixty-seven years on whom travel has been put, save me alone?”

³⁷ Then the chariot was laid against the cattle(?). “Then set, O Corcu Mruadh, your cattle with their calves(?), and loose them after me, and take a gospel about you; and we shall all come in the same place in like wise without lacking you, and the tribute restored to us.” The chariot set out against the cattle from there to Magh n-Aói; and not a cow of them went off the road, here or there, but all after the chariot; and not a calf of them fell out of the order that was put on them at the first hour. When the clerics were celebrating, the cattle stood silent; when the clerics moved, the cattle moved; in the place where the clerics stayed for the night, Mainchín would come and Mac Creiche’s Find-faidech on his back, and Luchthigern’s crozier in his hand, round the cattle. And the cattle used to lie alone till morning, and used to graze till the hour of terce the next day, while the clerics celebrated mass. When Mac Creiche went in his chariot at the head of the road, all the cattle used to rise in their full line after the chariot.

³⁸ That was the practice till they reached Magh n-Aói in the north. Great were the miracles they did till they reached the border of Magh h-Aói. Then Aodh mac Eachdach’s druids were before them, to test the clerics’ ignorance(?); and the druids made snow for the clerics, so that they could not travel in it. “Dispel that,” said the clerics. “We cannot,” said the druids. The clerics made the sign of the cross over it, till it became a pleasant sun for them. The clerics went all that day. Then the druids put a mist over the land from one hour to another, so that none of them could travel in it at all. The clerics dispelled the mist again. Then the clerics said to the druids: “Why do not dispel that snow and mist, as you brought them?” “We cannot put them away,” said they. “Then ill be your druidry from today for ever,” said Mac Creiche.

³⁹ Then they left the litter on Magh Ái, and went themselves to address the king. They were not let into the fort, and got no good answer out. The clerics turned back to their people and stayed that night on the plain, without drink, without food. Great thirst seized Mac Creiche. “If God please,” said he, “though the king has many drinks, my thirst shall not be greater than his before day come.” The king was drinking and merrymaking till bedtime. And they went to their beds after it. The king started out of his sleep, and great thirst and dryness seized him; and no quenching of his thirst was found for him in Ráith Cruachan. The day came at last. His horses were taken for the king, and he went to serve the clerics. He blessed them. “Blessed are you,” said Mac Creiche, “provided you give us everything we ask.” “Give me a drink, O cleric,” said he. Mac Creiche stamped on the ground, and a stream of water burst out; and it is called Tipra Mhec Creche still on Magh Cruachan. Aodh mac Eachdach’s cup was filled from it, and his thirst was stayed.

⁴⁰ Then Aodh knelt to him and said: “I give you everything you ask for that.” “I accept it,” said Mac Creiche, “provided the same tribute be never asked again.” “It shall never be asked,” said the king. They were brought into the fort thereafter. And the king had one son who had never spoken since he was born; and when he saw Mac Creiche he rose up and gave him right fond welcome. Mac Creiche blessed him and put the gospel over him; and there was no man in Ireland with better utterance than he; and his name was Úada Balbh (the Dumb). Everyone was glad that the king’s son had speech. Then Aodh mac Eachdach offered from himself with his son, and from everyone who should take the kingship of Connacht for ever, seven cumals from them, a scruple of each one from Síol Muiredhaigh and clann Taidhg. Mac Creiche left them for that: order, valour, honour and pride in their kings, and milk in their cattle, and grain in their soil. And whenever this tribute should not be paid to Mac Creiche, he left them their borders as orphans, and themselves as exiles.

⁴¹ He bade them farewell, and took Aodh mac Eachach’s cup with him northward, and left a blessing with them. And the proof of the tale and the deeds is in these verses. The law of Síl Muirethaig and clann Taidg is that tribute:

Then came to them
Aod Foirinn for honour;
it was a good occasion that chanced —
the perpetual rule of the clerics.

Then Mac Creiche said
a word to mac n-Eachach:
“We shall have from you — it is glorious —
friendship without being shunned.”

“Give me a drink, O cleric,”
said the victorious king;
“fill the fair-white little cup —
a free gift in Cruachan.”

Mac Creiche stamped
the earth to the brink,
till a lovely stream burst
that filled the cup.

It is Tipra Meic Creiche —
its name, fair every season,
on Magh Cruachan is it named —
it remains till doom’s day.

The king of Cruachan lifted
his drink — a saying not hid —
he rose with a prince’s strength
and knelt to Mac Creiche.

“To me you give your will,”
said famous Mac Creiche;
“let there be given right strongly
everything that is known to be asked.”

“you shall have it without shame,”
said the noble rich king;
“bear with you to your faithful church
the famous Boroma.”

“It shall be borne,” said Mac Creiche,
“if by prophetic words,
provided there be required for me
your tribute till doom’s day.”

“I shall offer you —
from my children, fame with victories —
every king who shall go before me(?),
seven cumals from them.”

“I shall give your children,
unless they come against me,
order and valour —
while this number lasts.”

Mac Creiche went
without love of gold or silver;
the right good king gave him
the two steers of his chariot.

It is then there was forgiven
to the saint of the judging cattle;
and he took his clothing
and Aodh mac Eachach’s cup.

There was forgiven to Mac Creiche
the whole — when the cup was given —
from that till living doom,
the tribute of Corcumodruad.

“If my people and children
contend with my people without blemish,
their borders shall be orphans,
they shall be exiles to the green altar(?).

If it be men of your goodness(?),
my service without forgetting —
they shall have their smooth kingship,
though they be not living on heavenly heaven.”

Then said learned Aodh
to the noble slim sleeper(?):
“Your will without glorious deeds(?)
shall be borne to victorious doom.”

Then the famous joyful treasure
stepped — Mac Creiche, of constant fame —
to his mother in Magh Uladh.

It is then he did
the miracle in that district —
he killed the Crom Connaill
that was tormenting that host.

He dealt a victorious word
to its nobles — a princely honour:
“Your strength shall remain — it shall be a sure miracle —
till the world’s end.”

He gave them thereafter
a glorious treasure bound on them —
victory of contest with valour,
produce and valour.

They offered their offering —
from which they are named of wise call(?):
sixty victorious cows
from them every year;

or, if they preferred
(for it is a choice of alms),
a scruple without blemish of geis(?)
of every pair for him.

They were accepted by Aodh Bennáin
and by Aodh Furáin —
his mother’s three brothers
from their chain after division.

Mac Creiche came without hindrance,
with a pure settlement,
to free without damage
the three from the chain.

The cleric found welcome
with banded Aodh Bennáin
for his mother’s three brothers
who had been taken in bondage.

Aodh Bennáin forgave him
the half of the three for fruit(?),
whom my plain of land saved —
Aodh Foirinn ordained them.

On victorious Aodh Bennáin
he bestowed a pleasant blessing;
he promised without decline
the kingship to Aodh Fhoiriond.

There Mac Creiche gave
his kingship — a fair compact —
to the seed of Aodh Bennáin;
it was a noble rich word.

The furious king stepped
the course — a course with strength —
Aodh Foirinn of the wild deer(?)
to serve the cleric.

Mac Creiche released
the three, a noble steadfast man —
unless it be struck(?), not
the iron fetters from their feet.

The furious famous king
knelt to Mac Creiche —
to Aodh Furinn was granted
produce and valour.

Then Aodh Forinn prayed,
that no sigh should fall,
that his kingship might pass
to his race, though contested.

With them was the desire of the offering —
the two fierce ones —
thrice fifty — step of sense —
every enduring year.

Fifty milk-cows,
fifty of white-ale hogs(?),
fifty summer-dry cows —
so it was spoken.

The thrice fifty of those treasures
were delivered without delay
to the holy just cleric,
till he was thankful.

He did a wondrous miracle
in Ard Brasg in Certain(?),
after baptism with strong fury(?)
of Loichin mac Nechtain.

Mac Creiche had forgotten
his little cup without disgrace —
the place where it was before him(?)
at the making of the baptism.

It is there, it is like, that the white bright
little cup was left behind(?),
which was not there, though it was told(?),
when Clúain Dírair came(?).

Since it went under its power(?)
the cup under the ground(?),
a sunburst came over
the land of Léim Conculainn.

Till Clúain Dírair came —
a high heaven that fades not —
every cow in its middle
fell after it in numbers.

Mac Creiche did
many miracles — a fair fulfilment;
He who kindles fire for him(?)
without decay in the world.

He was a faster, he was faithful,
he was believing, greatly penitent,
he was forgiving, he was contrite,
he was fruitful, he was angelic.

The city is famous —
Cluain Dírair, and it is fruitful,
it is forgiving, it is peopled,
it is wealthy, it is gracious.

A fort rich in houses(?) with fruit,
the freedom of every man;
there is the stead
on the high floor of Ruide.

Conall of the hundred wars(?)
took Mac Creiche to worship him;
he contended for his prayers
with heaven and earth.

The King on high remembered him —
the prayer that is not hid —
till there was made for him
a canticle for Mac Creiche.

Acta Meic Creiche agia
Adiuuent nos egregia;
Simus post exilia
In eterna memoria.

“It is true that it loves me —
my tribute and my law;
my own King choosing me
to bear me from your hand.

I am warring Mac Creiche —
so it is said of me —
that when I go to the all-famous world
my relics shall not be forsaken.

Whoever keeps my warring tribute,
everyone to whom it is due,
I shall keep with all fame
them on the everlasting world.

I shall be the tearing all-beast
if they hear the strife;
I shall be answering them(?),
if they destroy my glory.

If they destroy my law
of the stead-lands of the houses(?),
I shall go under their dwelling then,
and shorten their space.

It is from me its magnifying comes there —
if they were obedient to me fully(?),
if they were obedient to me strongly,
their assembly would not be strong.

It is I, holy Mac Creiche —
that is my name by right;
I take to my King without deceit
fifty psalms every nones.

I am the son of Ailbe’s bosom —
let me be praised every nones;
he likes to have me mentioned
in his proper little book.

That was my good father —
the war-hound of Sliab Crot;
he was a son to my grandfather(?),
a king who had many ports.

Broindgheal and Brig
and Mainesc fair —
the king’s three daughters,
and Fiachra of lasting power;

the king’s three great sons —
Roth, and noble Eógan,
and mighty Aongus —
they boasted wave and strand.

The children of the three fair women
boasted in their hour —
a son of mine to Brig of them,
and Ailbe a shelter from hosts.

A son to fair Mainesc —
Cainnech, noble by right;
Brendan’s mother —
Broindgheal of the gentle sleep.

Brendan gave me
a tribute on the Ciarraige —
the first calf of every cow,
Ruisne(?), from the tree.

The Fermacaigh to my rule,
from today till doom come;
it is I who checked the beast
for them — smooth the meeting.

A yearling of every herd,
of every sheep and every cow,
and from every litter(?) the tribute,
and from every sow — it is no lie.

Fair Brendan claimed
a right from the Connachtmen —
for his churches strongly
and for the host’s head.

There chanced a hundred saints
with him in the land northward;
we were beside them
in every fort then(?).

Mighty for us there
was the fort of the fierce white(?);
the host of wild Murchad comes
under us under Tadg’s Hills.

Great was the raid —
the cattle of clann Taidg —
they took over books(?),
men under many woes.

Fair Brendan said:
“O holy son of the bosom,
why lettest you our prey
be taken from our hand?”

Then I rise up
and lift my hand,
and humble the seed of Murchad —
the men of the valiant casts.

I make stone-slaughter(?)
of the men all,
and turn the prey
in their very faces.

When the host saw me
after breaking the heroes,
they offered me their land,
both plain and heath.

Clann Taidg said
a word to me that was new:
“Though you are called son of the bosom,
you are Mac Creiche now.

Bear from us a tribute,
O holy fair cleric —
let it be under tribute of your relics —
we are content, O saint.”

Their silver and their treasure,
their treasures over every fort,
the folk who were our due help —
it is the gold of my relics.

The seed of great Muiredach gave me
a tribute —
fifty ounces of gold
from the host of my right.”

⁴² Wondrous famous miracles were done by Mac Creiche: when great plagues came into all Ireland, and came into Cáoille in Chosnamha — which is called Tuadh-Mumha — past every land: the clawed griffin, and the Buidhe Connaill (yellow plague of Connacht), and the pox(bolccsighi), and the gerrghar, and the Broicsech of Loch Broicsighi — among the cendél Fermaic — a beast that was the strongest(?), and powerful, hostile, untiringly venomous, with its beastly fury upon it; and it laid its weight(?) on the land generally, and when it rose over the land in that manner, it was like fifty horses thundering on the shore in its thunder-feat over the land; and this is what it used to do: its hungry furious jaws open wide like a mad hound’s, and it used to pour a broad most hideous stream of its rough heathen breath across its jaws’ opening, and its chariot all aflame; and every man whom that venomous breath touched, and every beast, went to sudden early death — both cattle and men — till it depopulated the whole land save a few of its nobles, and they abandoned the whole land for the most part thereafter; and the measure of their loss was threescore(?) between men and women every day.

⁴³ And then their native patrons were brought to them — Maoldala, and Mac Aiblen, and Blathmac, and the saints of the whole land, and three nines of elders and old men together for each of them, and the whole land was in one place to meet the holy patrons. And at seeing them all they lifted sorrowful heavy heavenly groans, and began praying and cheek-reddening(?) to the noble holy patrons. And this is what Blathmac said: “Sad are these great heavy groans.” “It is true,” said the clerics. Then it chanced that the beast was at the end of the rows, working its fury on them. Great fear and terror seized the clerics, and this is what they did — they struck their bells and little chimes, and made a great ringing of their relics and croziers, and summoned the whole land to them — men, sons, women; and that beast was radiant, and the clerics thought the whole district’s strength a wonder.

⁴⁴ And Blathmac said: “Let us all fast to God,” said he, “that it may be revealed to us whose lot it is to give us help and deliverance.” So they did — both men and women: a fast in hope of help with the clerics. And the clerics began sweetly singing their psalms, and interceding with Jesus to tell them whose coming would be their help and deliverance. And they passed on till two thirds of the night had gone over them; and the hosts were anxious for fear of the day with terror of the beast, for that beast used to come from the loch with the morning’s cloud-flash, and used to devastate them till it went under the sun, and used to go back into the same loch in the last third of the day.

⁴⁵ The clerics kept their vigil, and the clerics slept after their vigil. And Victor the angel came to Blathmac in his sleep, and said: Pax uobis — God’s peace be with you; and the noble archangel showed himself to Blathmac, and he asked tidings of him. This is what he said to him: “Is there any fated for us to get help or deliverance for ever?” “There is,” said the angel: “go to the son of Ailbe’s bosom; and it is to him God has granted your help and deliverance.” “Where is that worthy son of God?” said Blathmac. “At the brink of Loch Léin,” said the angel. “How shall the sage come to the district?” said Blathmac. “Thus,” said the angel. “I shall sing a lullaby in its ear; it shall sleep its sleep for three days and three nights.” “Not only that,” said Blathmac, “but till it comes over the river Shannon here.” “It shall be,” said the angel, “as you best likest.” And the angel did as it said from beginning to end; till it drove the broicsech before it to the loch, and sang an angelic melody, till the beast fell into its sleep. And the angel went from it thereafter.

⁴⁶ And Blathmac woke after that, and the day rose. And when everyone saw the day with its full light, the people came to the clerics to beseech them for fear of the beast. And Blathmac comes right joyfully to meet them; and they ask tidings of him; and he tells them from beginning to end, and spoke these words:

The angel of Jesus showed to me
above the hosts —
the King’s angel whose work is firm,
a noble glorious deed.

Victor the angel — he came to me
with heavenly garment —
he, by God’s will without displeasure,
the demons’ fervour(?).

The angel of Jesus said to me —
a meeting with certainty —
to go to the glorious rich son
of Ailbe’s bosom.

“Go to pious Mac Creiche,”
said the angel —
“for purity of his mysteries, he is your fort
and your stronghold.”

He promised that he would check the beast,
though hard the meeting(?),
till Mac Creiche, my friend, should come
across the Shannon.

He came to our help, O Jesus —
in every high distress —
Victor the angel, to choose me out(?)
he showed himself.

⁴⁷ After that Blathmac said to all: “Arise, O beloved people, to Mac Creiche, for it is to him God has granted your help and your deliverance — not to us.” “How shall we go there?” said the nobles. “Let your nobles and your high nobles go there,” said Blathmac; “and go under a tributary service to him and his monks after him, for your freeing from the beast, and bring him a tribute every third year — men, sons, women.” “will you come with us?” said the princes. “I shall go,” said Blathmac.

⁴⁸ And after that their noble horses were yoked for them, and they went — twelve hundred their number in company; and Blathmac with his thrice fifty elders and old men with them. And they left Maoldala and Mac Aiblen and the other saints guarding the land. And then the number of the good host went right quickly to reach their land without destroying anything more; and they reached over the river Shannon, and into the district of Ciarraige Luachra, and from there to the brink of Loch Léin. And Blathmac alighted from his chariot at seeing Mac Creiche, and all the others alighted too, and went on their knees across the plain to the cleric; and Mac Creiche welcomed Blathmac, and Mac Creiche asked tidings of him; and he told him that it was to seek him he had come himself, and those nobles, to free them from the distress they were in, and to help them.

⁴⁹ And thus he was then — after putting the whole district under tributary hard service to himself and his monks for ever; and they all said as Blathmac had said. And thus was Mac Creiche: there was none with him but Mainchín alone, and the Finnfaidech. And they began keening in converse, and promising wealth and great good to him for his help. “What warrant have I for that promise?” said Mac Creiche. “The people under the church, and the church under the people,” said Blathmac, “and everyone under your perpetual rule; and your tribute paid to you every third year, and two living scruples on every hearth, and your bell’s due every year.”

⁵⁰ And the people gathered about him then, and Mac Creiche blessed the people(?); and they take a blessing from him, and he leaves a blessing with them; and they go back by the same road, till they reached the brink of the streamy-cliffed Shannon, and came over the river. And when they had come, the beast awoke, and came upon the land after them. And all the people fled before it till they reached the churchyard of Cell Subhulaigh, and all went over the churchyard. And Mac Creiche reached them on the third day; and it was then the beast was behind them harrying them, and heavy wretched groans from the hosts before it, and when the heavy groans were heaviest, they saw the company of the host coming towards them — pious Mac Creiche; and they all knelt to him — men, sons, women; and they went on their knees across the plain to Mac Creiche, and committed themselves to him, into tributary service to himself and to his monks after him.

⁵¹ And they were not long there till they saw the herdsmen of the deer and cattle coming to them, and the beast behind them, and they all fled behind the cleric; and the beast came into the churchyard with great fury and rage; and it used to cast fire-coals over its hungry furious jaws, till great fear seized the cleric, and Mainchín was behind him with the Finnfaidech. And the cleric said: “Reach me my bell, Mainchín,” said Mac Creiche; and both hosts put their faces to the ground, and Mac Creiche spoke these words:

Mac Creiche
behind us may Christ send to heaven(?)
his folk under secret — may He heal it;
behind us may God send to heaven —
may He not let anything further(?) go over me.

O fierce broicsech, come not down —
my bell’s breath on your jaws’ head;
O dumb broicsech, though the meeting be rough,
it is I who check you, in holy Christ’s bosom.

Seven archangels
from the fair city,
by the will of the God of creation,
shall drive you from me.

Four noble evangelists
shall turn their strength on you —
Matthew and Mark in their strong band,
Luke and John.

I entreat the saints,
I entreat the virgins,
I entreat all
who are the blood-warriors(?).

I entreat to my help
the saints of the enduring world —
let them all come with my prayer
both south and north.

I entreat to my help
Christ, everyone’s crown —
King of the kingdom, King of heaven,
star-tree over a fort.

Great fervent forgiving God,
Son of Mary — hide not —
I ask, I beg, I entreat
that You check from heaven.

⁵² After that Mac Creiche asked for the bell, and Mainchín gave it to him, and he struck the bell fiercely, so that the beast started and rose on its hind legs, till it was bigger than a victorious broad-leaved oak-tree or a bell-tower on a hill; and the multitude of its claws and talons was very terrible to see, and great fear seized the cleric at seeing the beast. Et orauit secundo ad Deum, eleuatis manibus et flexis genibus, dicens: “O merciful God, almighty Father, merciful author, true God, one, sole and threefold, have mercy on me, Lord, according to Your great mercy, for you are my most mighty Father, and my merciful God, you are my great victory. To You I commend myself wholly, and free me, Lord, from this deadly worm and from the broicsech’s venom, for I shall adore You, I shall praise You, to You I shall go and in You I shall rest, who live and reign for ever and ever. Amen.”

⁵³ And after that intercession of the cleric’s, the beast was standing thus all the while Mac Creiche was making the prayer. And it came into the churchyard after that with horrible, terrible, wondrous fury, so that it cast equal fire-coals over its hungry furious jaws and through the holes of its nose; and it raised its beast-fury till its dross(?) was blood-red, till there was a red bloody dew on every single hair of its body from its head to its tail. Alas, it were woe for Mac Creiche who was before it in the churchyard, were it not that the true God was ordaining through His powers to check it. And then Mac Creiche interceded with the Lord promptly to save him from the venom of the destructive beast, and this is what he said: “O head of my counsel, O mighty Lord, O mighty one, O lord, O tutor, O soul-friend, O son of the great Virgin, defend me from this monster, as it best pleases me, O King and Sovereign, that it may not come into my head.”

⁵⁴ After that Mac Creiche struck the bell thrice, and the beast walking in the churchyard with a firm step and its jaws aflame; and the third time a spark of fire flew out of the bell into the beast’s jaws, and its jaws caught fire on the beast. When the beast felt its muzzle aflame, it turned in the churchyard with a squeal and a horrible scream, and both hosts rose, and lifted great common exultant victorious cheers. And Mac Creiche followed the beast, his crooked thin-legged staff in his hand, and began driving the beast with his staff, and Mac Creiche comes after the beast, and Maoldala and Mac Aiblén and Blathmac and the other saints of the land after Mac Creiche; and the whole land besides — men, sons, women — after the clerics; and many shouts and many great cheers from the hosts after the beast. And they went on in that wise till they reached the loch; and it leaped into the loch and went under the loch’s depth. The hosts and the clerics lifted great cheers of thanksgiving to God, that the beast had been checked for them.

⁵⁵ And they were not long there till they saw the loch bursting in wild red streams over the loch’s banks; and after that the beast rose in the loch’s middle on its feet in the same first manner. Then the hosts lifted great cries of reproach and mockery of the cleric(?); and great shame seized Mac Creiche that the beast had risen again, and his heart leaped in his breast, and he looked to the firmament and interceded in his mind with Jesus, and looked about him once more and found nothing wherewith to strike or cast at the beast; and there was none near him then but Mainchín alone. And Mainchín rebuked Mac Creiche, when he saw both hosts fleeing. Then Mac Creiche put his hand on the head-covering of his crown — a covering of milk-white cloth he had like a little cowl — and gave a cast at the beast till the Christian’s crown-covering spread out, and the little cowl settling heavy on the beast, till it was shown to them all as an iron cowl beaten out spreading round the beast; and they all saw in common the beast sinking in its crooked windings under the little cowl, till it took it into the loch’s depth, without rising again to the brink of doom and life.

⁵⁶ And both hosts lifted many great cheers giving praise to Mac Creiche — men, sons, women; and the clerics let their knees to the ground and made their compact and union with Mac Creiche, and gave themselves into tributary service to him and to his monks. And after that Mac Creiche gave thanks to God for those great miracles — the drowning of the broicsech — and said:

Mac Creiche
I thank my furious King,
O prince of heaven’s fenced isle(?),
since He slew — with victorious burning —
the broicsech of honey-colours.

I thank the same prince,
for gracious are His mysteries;
may the loch come to its lair —
it shall not come out behind.

O mountain of red gold over pure cliffs(?),
O sermon without falsehood —
I thank the King I worship
who failed me not in my trouble.

⁵⁷ After that the whole people came on the ridge over the loch on one side, and the clerics on the other side. And Mac Creiche then blessed the people — men, sons, women — and their cattle and tribute are gathered from every quarter to him; and the idle man who had nothing but his weapons brought his own judgement of it(?); and horse and clothing are brought in counsel — their prince and their lord to him, with everyone. “Leave legacies on the people,” said Blathmac and the nobles. “What shall I get in return for them?” said Mac Creiche. “Your tribute shall be paid to your monks and to yourself, and the lord’s obligation — both horse and clothing — as you see now,” said the nobles. “I leave the victory of chieftainship on the land,” said Mac Creiche, “and kings’ honour, and the victory of queens and stewards, and the clerics’ victory.”

⁵⁸ “Leave more,” said the nobles. “What shall I get in return?” said Mac Creiche. “you shall get the first-born of every herd.” “I leave grain and milk in your land, and mast on your woods, and fruit in your soil.” “Leave more,” said the nobles. “What shall I have in return?” said Mac Creiche. “you shall have,” said the nobles, “the due of your bell every year.” “I leave the victory of valour on your warriors, and abundance of every land(?). I leave that every heavy plague-sickness that comes into your land — the ringing of my bell and my steward’s prayer shall drive it out; and the prince or tanaiste who is there — his decay or death unless he rise to this bell; and the decay or death of anyone of the people who puts it over his knee upwards(?), with lie or falsehood, for ever.”

⁵⁹ “And I leave to you against that, that you shall be no fewer than the number you came in to me, provided this tribute is kept.” And he said:

Mac Creiche
Thrice a hundred by threes you came,
of proudly clean-weaponed men;
if my tribute be kept,
you shall be no fewer.

“I leave another thing to you: the cattle on whom my scruple is — no heavy plague-sickness shall come to them for ever, and no untimely dead person shall be brought from the house my scruple is in. I leave to you, when my tribute is not kept and my relics not served, that all diseases and plagues shall be dealing with you always, and a hateful secret-minded devil among you constantly, so that each of you shall be treacherous and murderous to his fellow; and whenever this bell of mine is seen, it shall be a reproach and a shame to your race to see it without its tribute being paid with it. I leave another thing moreover — three casts of my bell before you in battle, and you shall have rout on every side, if my tribute be kept(?).”

⁶⁰ Everyone in common praised that everything the sage had said was good. And Blathmac said that great were the marvels and miracles done there. “It is true indeed,” said Mac Creiche, “for Druim na f-Ferta (the Ridge of Miracles) shall be the name of this ridge from today for ever, and Loch m-Broicsidhe shall be this loch below for ever.” And the clerics made their compact and union with each other; and Mac Creiche made shrine and adoration(?), and his tribute and cumals were brought to Mac Creiche; and he began bidding the people farewell, and going over his tributes; and this is what he said: “Good was the journey we made to this land to help it; and it shall be good to them if they keep this tribute of mine in my own time, and in my successors’ time after one another for ever; and it shall be ill if they keep it not.”

⁶¹ And he spoke the lay there:

Mac Creiche
Good the journey we made
by the fair Lord’s will,
to help the host of the Fermacaigh
out of every land to land.

The broicsech was devouring there
the oil(?) of every evil —
an unknown horrible all-beast
none could check.

Maoldala and Mac Aiblen
and Blathmac, though fair his body,
and the saints of this land —
they could not check it.

The saints said
their word right soon:
“Let all leave the land;
its checking comes not from us.”

The princes of Fermacach ask
of smooth-white Blathmac:
“For help — shall it be in hope,
or is any fated for us?”

“Go to the son of Ailbe’s bosom,”
said Blathmac with might;
“it is he, without falsehood,
who will drive the plague from you.

It is to him God has granted
at the first, by the fair Lord’s will —
every sickness and every affliction(?)
to cast from your land.”

The princes of Fermacach come
to seek me southwards,
for their help, for their deliverance —
a journey that was their profit.

They found me on the flat plains
on Loch Léin’s brink;
they all knelt to me
as though to a full monk.

They all said —
the white-toothed host:
“It has been brought to you, O holy cleric —
come over and help us.”

They all promised me —
men, sons, women —
a scruple of every man(?),
and to be all under my tribute.

God takes for me in His graciousness —
true the cause on them —
the judgement of him whom I leave
to be kept for ever.

I come with them here
over the Shannon of the streams;
they come — for it is true —
into the land half by half(?).

All the people come
to us into our assembly,
and kneel to me —
men, sons, women.

The beast comes after them
into the churchyard unchecked;
they come behind me,
and I take my bell.

I beseech great Jesus
that He check the beast;
a spark comes from the bell
and goes into its jaws.

Its strong belly blazes —
for pure was the mystery —
without falsehood — and hide it not —
its venom goes behind.

It turns back
to the loch itself;
when it reaches its brink
it leaps into its middle.

It goes under the loch itself;
a cry(?) comes in its throat;
all the host give
thanksgiving for its checking.

It comes in the loch again
standing — a terror it was;
all the host cry out —
alas, sad the cry.

The while the beast
stood so,
for help to me(?) —
I beseech God of heaven.

I give a cast at it —
for it was angry with me —
my head-covering —
it casts it under its head(?).

My little cowl was moreover
being beaten round it — a course of grace —
clear to everyone
in its great good cauldron(?).

It sank in its crooked windings
in the loch entirely —
without rising before all —
the beast till doom.

The hosts kneel to me —
men, sons, women;
they all come to me —
my own judgement for tribute.

Then there is brought to me
from the white-toothed host
the tribute of every third year —
to serve my relics.

Their horses and their clothing —
I had my due of the prince;
you shall have it henceforth
in return for every good.

My little living scruple —
God granted it to me —
no untimely dead shall be borne
from the house it is in.

A penny of my cleric’s due —
that I brought from Rome —
and paid according to rule
to them every year.

I leave the victory of lordship
on the land itself —
victory of queens, victory of stewards —
while they are under my rule.

Victory of kings, victory of stewards,
victory of clerics in the church;
victory of beauty, victory of horsemanship,
victory of drinking every liquor.

I leave grain and milk
in this land where I am;
I leave mast and great fruit —
if they keep my tribute.

I leave the victory of valour
to its warriors without treachery;
if they keep not my tribute
their pledge shall not be taken(?).

My steward’s prayer,
the ringing of my holy bell —
they shall drive plague and pestilence
from you at every gap.

Three casts of my bell
before you in hard battle —
provided they keep its geis —
you shall bear every victory.

First calf, first lamb, first kid,
first pig of a sow’s litter —
I claim of the host of Fermacach —
I say no lie.

I leave to a king(?)
to rise before my bell;
his decay on the third(?) —
unless he rise quickly.

Every plague, and every sickness,
and every noble horrible disease —
they shall drive from its regions(?)
if they keep my tribute.

Of its men, of its women,
of their own remnant,
these plagues shall drive out,
though they be not under my rule(?).

Everyone of them to serve me —
they shall be on living God’s right hand;
they shall all go to heaven,
both men and women.

Whoever keeps my busy tribute —
everyone to whom it is due —
I shall keep with all fame
them on the everlasting world.

I shall be the tearing all-beast
if they deal falsely with me;
I shall be answering them,
if they destroy my glory.

I thank God —
the beast, though rough the tale —
that it is to me is permitted
that it come not back.

I thank God
my little cowl for ever —
since it was laid under the beast
and let it not out before all.

Though my little cowl was
milk-white cloth — a course of grace —
it is about the beast without sorrow
in its great good cauldron.

Everyone of the people who lifts
my bell with course of grace
over his knee with a lie —
I leave decay to him.

My hundred and forty(? sic: seacht fichit = seven score) years
till the feast of the candle of grace —
I thank God
for all that I have seen of good.

So far the Life of Mac Creiche, written by the poor friar Mícheál Ó Clérigh in the convent of the friars of Dún na nGall, 11 May 1635, from the copy the same friar wrote in the convent of Inis in Tuadh-Mumhain in the month of June of this year 1634, out of the book that Maoilechlainn Ó Callannáin wrote at Cill Mhaoilodhrain for the successor of Mac Creiche, when Christ’s age was 1528.

Another tale of Mac Creiche here. #

There was a certain man in great and unusual trouble from the pox — Tomás Ó Godáin his name — and his speech and his reason were taken from him, and there was but a little of his soul in him; and when a díneach (drink from the relic) was made for him by the mac-cléirech(?) of Mac Creiche, and it was brought by the same mac-cléirech to the sick man to drink out of Mac Creiche’s bell, his speech and his reason came to him at once; and those miracles were praised by all. Whereupon Tomás Ó Godáin — the man of the pox — made the lay:

Tomás Ó Godáin
Great are these miracles, I think,
the patron wrought on me —
Mac Creiche, whose portion is lasting —
brought me from death to life.

I believe in this relic beside me —
it came from the true saint’s bosom;
men’s faith comes not into(?)
that in which its díneach is borne.

Mac Creiche of the great good relics
gave me a gracious protection;
I owe him service beyond all,
since his young warrior forgot me not.

His bells and his crooked croziers,
on which gold was spent of flagstones(?),
fitting it is for everyone — I swear it —
to boast of his miracles.

His tribute on the men of Munster
and on the Connachtmen of the foundation,
a termon for the clerics of his church —
it is due from the men of Ireland.

His miracles to this day
would be hard to number —
he is ever with unbroken strength
doing the true great miracles.

This lay, with proper faith,
whoever shall take it in his honour —
he shall get his boon without refusal,
and bear away every full-great victory.

From the same book it was written.