Not to spoil sport for the people, Breogan made up his mind to ride himself. As soon as the man mounted, and was firm in the saddle, the horse stood on his hind-legs, rose with a leap in the air, and away with him faster than any wind, first over the land, and then over the sea. The horse never stopped till he came down on his fore-feet in Breasil, which is a part of Tir nan Og (the Land of the Young).
Breogan found himself now in the finest country man could set eyes on. He rode forward, looking on all sides with delight and pleasure, till out before him he saw a grand castle, and a beautiful gate in front of it, and the gate partly open.
“Well,” thought he, “I’ll go in here for a bit, to know are there people living inside.” With that he tied the bridle to one of the bars of the gate, and left the horse, thinking to come back in a short time. He went to the door of the castle, and knocked on it. A woman came and opened the door to him.
“Oh, then, a hundred thousand welcomes to you, Breogan from Brandon,” said she.
He thanked her, and was greatly surprised when he heard her calling him by name. She brought him then to a parlor; and, though he had fine rooms in his own house, he hardly knew at first how to sit in this parlor, it was that grand and splendid. He wasn’t long sitting, when who should come in but a young woman, a beauty; the like of her he had never seen before in his life. She was first in every way, in good looks as well as in manners. She sat down at his side, and welcomed him.
Breogan remained in the castle a few hours, eating, drinking, talking, and enjoying himself. At long last he thought, “I must be going;” and then he said so.
The first woman laughed. “Well, now, my good friend,” said she, “of all the men that ever came to this place,—and it’s many a man that came here in my time,—there never was a worse man to care for his horse than what you are. Your poor beast is tied to a bar of the gate outside since you came, and you have never as much as thought that he was dry or hungry; and if I had not thought of him, it’s in a bad state he’d be now. How long do you think you are in this castle?”
“Oh, then, I am about seven hours in it.”
“You are in this country just seven years,” said the woman. “The beauty and comfort of this Land of the Young is so great that the life of twelve months seems the length of one hour in another place.”