So Cul-corrach came on Sunday, and the old woman dressed her in the beautifullest apparel that any lady could be seen in, and made her face beautiful too, so that she was to be admired, and she put her on a grey steed, and glass slippers on her feet. She told her, when Mass would be over, to let neither girl nor man lay hold of her, but to come back to her.
So Cul-corrach came back to her with all speed, and the steed was put up, and the girl sent home in her rough apparel again.
When the two sisters came home, their mother asked them, according to her practice, "What news?" "No news, but the beautifullest lady that could be seen was in the church, and we all admired her, and couldn't keep from watching her, and the lord's son couldn't take his eyes off her."
The Sunday after, Cul-corrach came again to the old woman, and she dressed her more admirable and more to be seen than the first Sunday, and she mounted the grey steed and away to church, the old woman telling her not to let anyone get a hand on her, but to return as fast as she could when Mass was over.
So as much as the lord's son admired her the first Sunday, he admired her more the second, and said he'd do all he could to come in with her. But Cul-corrach went back to the old woman directly the service was over, and the steed was put up, and she returned home in her rough clothes. The mother asked the two daughters when they came, "What news?" and they said the lady was at church again, and that everyone couldn't take their eyes off her, and the lord's son would have her, no matter how he travelled.
The third Sunday Cul-corrach went to the old woman, and if she dressed her finely the other two Sundays, it was more beautiful and more to be seen she dressed her that day, and the lord's son took good care he kneeled by the door for fear she 'd go out without his getting a hold on
