ext and an
English translation of "The Battle of Gabra," and since that date the
volume of printed texts and English versions has steadily increased,
until now there lies open to the ordinary reader a very considerable
mass of material illustrating the imaginative life of medieval Ireland.

Of these Irish epic tales, "The Destruction of Da Derga's Hostel" is a
specimen of remarkable beauty and power. The primitive nature of the
story is shown by the fact that the plot turns upon the disasters that
follow on the violation of tabus or prohibitions often with a
supernatural sanction, by the monstrous nature of many of the warriors,
and by the utter absence of any attempt to rationalise or explain the
beliefs implied or the marvels related in it. The powers and
achievements of the heroes are fantastic and extraordinary beyond
description, and the natural and extra-natural constantly mingle; yet
nowhere, does the narrator express surprise. The technical method of the
tale, too, is curiously and almost mechanically symmetrical, after the
manner of savage art; and both description and narration are marked by a
high degree of freshness and vividness.

The following translation is, with slight modification, that of Dr.
Whitley Stokes, from a text constructed by him on the basis of eight
manuscripts, the oldest going back to about 1100 A.D. The story itself
is, without doubt, several centuries earlier, and belongs to the oldest
group of extant Irish sagas._

THE DESTRUCTION OF DA DERGA'S HOSTEL

There was a famous and noble king over Erin, named Eochaid Feidlech.
Once upon a time he came over the fairgreen of Bri Leith, and he saw at
the edge of a well a woman with a bright comb of silver adorned with
gold, washing in a silver basin wherein were four golden birds and
little, bright gems of purple carbuncle in the rims of the basin. A
mantle she had, curly and purple, a beautiful cloak, and in the mantle
silvery fringes arranged, and a brooch of fairest gold. A kirtle she
wore, long, hooded, hard-smooth, of green silk, with red embroidery of
gold. Marvellous clasps of gold and silver in the kirtle on her breasts
and her shoulders and spaulds on every side. The sun kept shining upon
her, so that the glistening of the gold against the sun from the green
silk was manifest to men. On her head were two golden-yellow tresses, in
each of which was a plait of four locks, with a bead at the point of
each lock. The hue of that hair