[ [275] Not known to the Editor, but is probably on the Knapdale side of Loch Sween.
[ [276] This lady is elsewhere called “Contissa Ergadien,” the Countess of Argyle. From the name given her here, she would appear to be a daughter of the Earl of Argyle, but she might as countess be styled Ni vic Cailein, or the daughter of Colin. We know that Sir Colin Campbell of Glenurchy, was uncle and tutor to Archibald, first Earl of Argyle, and that having himself married Margaret, eldest daughter of Stuart last Lord of Lorn, he arranged a marriage between his nephew and Isabella, the second daughter, who became Countess of Argyle. She was most likely the authoress of these lines, but we have no key to the piece of domestic history to which they refer.
[ [277] There is a Duncan Og Albanach among the writers of religious poetry in the MS., who was most likely one of the Mac Vurrichs, and the author of these lines. It is hardly necessary to say that the poet refers in this composition to the seven mortal sins of the Roman Catholic Church.
[ [278] Murdoch of Scotland was the first of the great race of Macvurrichs, bards to Macdonald of Clanranald. From all that can be gathered regarding him, he was an ecclesiastic, and, according to the measure of light he possessed, a man of earnest and sincere religion. It was not known, until this volume of Dean M’Gregor’s was searched, that any remains of his compositions existed; but here we find several, all very much of the same character. There is one long poem to the cross, which appears to have been modelled on the early Latin hymns. Murdoch of Scotland, or Muireadhach Albanach, would appear to have lived between A.D. 1180 and 1220. Mr. Standish H. O’Grady, late President of the Ossianic Society of Dublin, kindly sent to the writer some years ago a poem, still preserved in Ireland, containing a dialogue between Muireadhach and “Cathal Cròdhearg,” the red-handed Cathal O’Connor, King of Connaught, on the occasion of their embracing a religious life. Cathal’s “floruit” is known to have been between A.D. 1184 and 1225. As the lines are curious, they are inserted here.
Cathal croibhdhearg agus Muireadhach Albanach maraon iar n-dul anns na braithribh dhoibh, cecinerunt:— A Mhuireadhaigh, meil do sgian, go ’m bearram inn do’n Aird-rìgh, Tabhram go milis ár mòid, ’us ar dhà trillis do ’n Trianaid, Bearraidh mise do Mhuire, an bhreath so is breath òr-chridhe, Do Mhuire bearr am bàrr so, a dhuine seang, sùlmhal so. Anamh leat, a mhaca ghlan, sgian tar do bharr do’d bhearradh, Fa mhionca rioghain bhinn bhog, a cìreadh a cinn thugad. Gach ré n’uair do foilethi dhuinn, us do Bhrian ard bhairr chladh-ùir, ’Us do fhoileinn uair eile ri stuaidh fhoiltfhinn Bhoroimhe. Do ghrinn comh-shnamh ’us Ua Chàis, air linntibh fuara Forghais, Air teacht air tìr leis o’n linn, do ghrinn ’us Ua Chais coimhshling, An dha sgian so leath air leath, do rad dhuinn Dunchadh Cairbreach, Nior b’fhearr dhà sgian de sginibh; bearr gu mìn a Mhuireadhaich. Meil do chlaidheamh, a Chathail, chosnas am Banbha braonsgathaidh, Ni chuala gun fhachuin d’fhearg, a Chathail chuanna, chròdheirg, Dion air fhuachd ’s air ainteas inn, a inghin uasail Ioachaim, Dean ar coimhead ’s an tìr theith, a ro gheag mhìn, a Mhuire. A Mhuireadhaich.
TRANSLATION.
Cathal Crodhearg and Murdoch of Scotland, on entering among the brethren, sung:— Murdoch, whet thy knife, that we may shave our crowns to the Great King, Let us sweetly give our vow, and the hair of both our heads to the Trinity. I will shave mine to Mary, this is the doing of a true heart, To Mary shave thou these locks, well-formed, soft-eyed man. Seldom hast thou had, handsome man, a knife on thy hair to shave it, Oftener has a sweet, soft queen, comb’d her hair beside thee. Whenever it was that we did bathe, with Brian of the well-curled locks, And once on a time that I did bathe, at the wall of the fair-haired Boroimhe, I strove in swimming with Ua Chais, on the cold waters of the Fergus. When he came ashore from the stream, Ua Chais and I strove in a race. These two knives, one to each, were given us by Duncan Cairbreach, No knives of knives were better, shave gently then, Murdoch. Whet your sword, Cathal, which wins the fertile Banva, Ne’er was thy wrath heard without fighting, brave, red-handed Cathal, Preserve our shaved heads from cold and from heat, gentle daughter of Joachim, Preserve us in the land of heat, softest branch, Mary. Murdoch.
[ [279] In the old form of the verb, in German, the present tense exercised likewise the function of the future.
[ [280] Since this note was written, the writer has learned with great regret of the death of Dr. O’Donovan, and hesitated whether these strictures on some opinions in his able Irish Grammar ought to be retained, but justice to an equally able Scotch grammarian seemed to require them; and he may be allowed this opportunity of expressing his sincere admiration of the great learning and knowledge of that distinguished Irish scholar, and his sense of the loss which Celtic philology has sustained by his lamented death.