II.

II.If we except the Pastorales, the whole of Basque poetry may be described as lyrical; either secular, as songs, or religious, as hymns and noëls. There is no epic in Basque,7and scarcely any narrative ballads; even those chiefly are of uncertain date. A few sonnets exist, but they are almost exclusively translations or imitations of French, Spanish, or classical poems, and cannot be considered as genuine productions of the Basque muse. Some of the religious poetry may be described as didactic, but this again is mostly paraphrase or translation. All that is really native is lyrical. But even in song the Basques show no remarkable poetical merit. The extreme facility with which the language lends itself to rhyming desinence has a most injurious effect upon versification. There are not verses only, but whole poems, in which each line terminates with the same desinence. Instead of striving after that perfection of form which the change of a single word or even letter would affect injuriously, the Basques are too often satisfied with this mere rhyme. Their compositions, too, if published at all, are usually printed only on single sheets of paper, easily dispersed and soon lost. Hence the preservation of Basque poetry is entrusted mainly to the memory, and thus it happens that one scarcely meets with two copies of the same song exactly alike. If the memory fails, the missing words and rhymes are so easily supplied by others that it is not worth theeffort torecallthe precise expression used. And so it comes to pass that, while versification is very common among the Basques, high-class poetry is extremely rare. They have no song writers to compare with Burns or with Béranger. And if it be alleged that poets like these are rare, even among people far more numerous and more cultivated, the Basques still fall short, when measured by a much lower standard. They have no poets to rival the Gascon, Jasmin, or to compare with the Provençal or the Catalan singers at the other end of the Pyrenean chain. There is no modern Basque song which can be placed by the side of “Le Demiselle” and others of the Biarritz poet, Justin Larrebat; and among the older poets neither Dechepare nor Oyhenart is equal to the Béarnais, Despourrins. While the Jacobite songs of Scotland are among the finest productions of her lyric muse, the Carlist songs, on the contrary, though telling of an equally brave and romantic struggle, are one and all below mediocrity. But, while fully admitting this, there is yet much that is pleasing in Basque poetry. If it has no great merits, it is still free from any very gross defects. It is always true and manly, and completely free from affectation. It is seldom forced, and the singer sings just because it pleases him to do so, not to satisfy a craving vanity or to strain after the name and fame of a poet. The moral tone is almost always good. If at times, as in the drinking songs, and in some few of the amatory, the expression is free and outspoken, vice is never glossed over or covered with a false sentimentality. The Basque is never mawkish or equivocal—with him right is right, and wrong is wrong, and Basque poetry leaves no unpleasant after-taste behind.8The only peculiarity, in a poetical sense, is the extreme fondness for, and frequent employment of, allegory. In the love songs the fair one is constantly addressed under some allegorical disguise. It is a star the lover admires, or it is the nightingale who bewails his sad lot. The loved one is a flower, or a heifer, a dove or a quail, a pomegranate or an apple, figures common to the poets of other countries; but the Basques, even the rudest of them, never confuse these metaphors, as more famous poets sometimes do—the allegory is ever consistently maintained throughout. Even in prose they are accustomed to this use of allegory, and catch up the slightest allusion to it; but to others it often renders their poetry obscure, and very difficult of successful translation. The stranger is in doubt whether a given poem is really meant only for a description of the habits of the nightingale, or whether the bird is a pseudonym for the poet or the poet’s mistress. Curiously enough, sometimes educated Basques seem to have almost as much difficulty in seizing this allegory as have foreigners. Thus, in a work now in course of publication,9one of the most famous of these allegorical complaints is actually taken for a poetical description of the nightingale itself.The historical songs, like all other historical remains among the Basques, are few and doubtful. There are two songs, however, for which are claimed a greater historical importance and a higher antiquity than any others can pretend to. These are the so-called “Leloaren Cantua” and the “Altabiskarco Cantua.” Both these are reputed by some writers to be almost contemporaneous with the events which they relate. The first is said to be founded on the wars of the Roman Emperor Augustus with the Cantabri; the second is an account of the defeat of Charlemagne’s rearguardat Roncesvalles,A.D.778. The former may be some three hundred years old, but the latter is certainly a production of the nineteenth century, though none the less it is the most spirited offspring of the Basque muse. We will give the text and translation of each, and then justify our conclusions.Leloaren Cantua.1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.15.(Torn.)16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.Song of Lelo.1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).13.(It is) impossible more.14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.The history of the above song is as follows: At the close of the sixteenth century a notary of Zornoza, J. Iñiguez de Ibargüen, was commissioned by the Junta of Biscay to search the principal libraries of Spain for documents relating to the Basques. In the archives of Simancas he discovered an ancient MS. on parchment, containing verses in Basque, some almost, others wholly obliterated. Of these he copied what he could, and inserted them in p. 71 of his “Cronica general de España y sumaria de Vizcaya,” a work which still exists in manuscript in the town of Marquina. From this history of Ibargüen the song was first reproduced by the celebrated Wilhelm von Humboldt, and published by him in 1817 in a supplement to Vater’s “Mithridates.” The text above given is taken from that of the “Cancionero Vasco,” Series 2, iii., pp. 18, 20, and claims to be a new and literal copy from the MS. “Cronica” of Ibargüen. From the date of its publication by Humboldt, this piece has been the subject of much discussion. That it is one of the oldest fragments of Basque poetry hardly admits of doubt. But, when asked to believe that it is contemporary with Augustus, we must hesitate. The question arises: Did Ibargüen copy the almost defaced original exactly as it was, or did he suffer his declared predilections unconsciously to influence his reading of it?11Many of the words are still very obscure, and the translation of them is almost guess work. The first verse has little or no apparent connection with the rest of the poem, and has given rise to the most fanciful interpretations. Lelo has been imagined by some to be the name of a Basque hero; Zara, or Zarat, who kills him, the name of another; and the two reproduce the story of Agamemnon and Ægisthus. Others, with more probability, take Lelo, as is certainly the case in other poems, for a mere refrain (the everlasting Lelo, as a Basque proverb has it) used by the singer merely to give the key to the tune or rhythm to which he modulates the rest. Chaho, with his usual audacity, would translate it “glory,” and render it thus:—Finished is the glory! dead is the glory,Our glory!Old age has killed the glory,Our glory!But it has been very plausibly suggested12that the verse bears a suspicious likeness to a vague reminiscence of the Moslem cry “Lâ Êlah Ulâ Allah!” &c.; and if so, this, in the north of Spain, would at one bound place the poem some eight centuries at least after the time of Augustus. The proper names have a too correct look. Octabiano, Roma, and Tiber are far too much like the Latin; for if Greeks and Romans complained, as do Strabo and Mela, of the difficulty of transcribing Basque or Iberian names into their own language, the Basques might possibly find a somewhat corresponding difficulty in transcribing Greek and Latin names into Basque. Moreover, in a later verse appears “Uchin,” asobriquetfor “Augustino,” as a baptismal name in use among the Spanish Basques to this day. What the poem really refers to we dare not assert. We present the “Leloaren Cantua” to our readers simply as one of the oldest curiosities of Basqueverse, without pledging ourselves to any particular date or interpretation thereof.Fortunately, we shall be able to speak with much more decision of the “Altabiskarco Cantua,” of which the following is the latest text:—Altabiskarco Cantua.1.Oyhu bat aditua izan daEscualdunen mendien artetic,Eta etcheco jaunac, bere athearen aitcinean chuticIdeki tu beharriac, eta erran du: “Nor da hor? Cer nahi dautet?”Eta chacurra, bere nausiaren oinetan lo zagüena,Altchatu da, eta karrasiz Altabiscarren inguruac bethe ditu.2.Ibañetaren lepoan harabotz bat aghertcen da,Urbiltcen da, arrokac ezker eta ezcuin jotcen dituelaric;Hori da urrundic heldu den armada baten burrumba.Mendien copetetaric guriec errespuesta eman diote;Beren tuten soinua adiaraci dute,Eta etcheco jaunac bere dardac zorrozten tu.3.Heldu dira! heldu dira! cer lantzazco sasia!Nola cer nahi colorezco banderac heien erdian aghertcen direnCer simistac atheratcen diren heien armetaric!Cembat dira? Haurra condatzic onghi!Bat, biga, hirur, laur, bortz, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar, hameca, hamabi,Hamahirur, hamalaur, hamabortz, hamasei, hamazazpi, hemezortzi, hemeretzi, hogoi.4.Hogoi eta milaca oraino!Heien condatcea demboraren galtcea liteque.Urbilditzagun gure beso zailac, errotic athera ditzagun arroca horiec,Botha ditzagun mendiaren patarra beheraHein buruen gaineraino;Leher ditzagun, herioz jo ditzagun.5.Cer nahi zuten gure mendietaric Norteco guizon horiec?Certaco jin dira gure bakearen nahastera?Jaungoicoac mendiac eguin dituenean nahi izan du hec guizonec ez pasatcea.Bainan arrokac biribilcolica erortcen dira, tropac lehertcen dituzte.Odola churrutan badoa, haraghi puscac dardaran daude.Oh! cembat hezur carrascatuac! cer odolezco itsasoa!6.Escapa! escapa! indar eta zaldi dituzeneac!Escapa hadi, Carlomano erreghe, hire luma beltzekin eta hire capa gorriarekin;Hire iloba maitea, Errolan zangarra, hantchet hila dago;Bere zangartasuna beretaco ez tu izan.Eta orai, Escualdunac, utz ditzagun arroca horiec,Jauts ghiten fite, igor ditzagun gure dardac escapatcen direnen contra.7.Badoazi! badoazi! non da bada lantzazco sasi hura?Non dira heien erdian agheri ciren cer nahi colorezco bandera hec?Ez da gheiago simiztarik atheratcen heien arma odolez bethetaric.Cembat dira? Haurra, condatzac onghi.Hogoi, hemeretzi, hemezortzi, hamazazpi, hamasei, hamabortz, hamalaur, hamairur,Hamabi, hameca, hamar, bederatzi, zortzi, zazpi, sei, bortz, laur, hirur biga, bat.8.Bat! ez da bihiric aghertcen gheiago. Akhabo da!Etcheco jauna, joaiten ahal zira zure chacurrarekin,Zure emaztearen eta zure haurren besarcatcera,Zure darden garbitcera eta alchatcera zure tutekin,Eta ghero heien gainean etzatera eta lo gitera.Gabaz, arranoac joainen dira haraghi pusca lehertu horien jatera,Eta hezur horiec oro churituco dira eternitatean.Song of Altabiscar.1.A cry is heardFrom the Basque mountain’s midst.Etcheco Jauna,13at his door erect,Listens, and cries, “What want they? Who goes there?”At his lord’s feet the dog that sleeping layStarts up, his bark fills Altabiscar14round.2.Through Ibañeta’s14pass the noise resounds,Striking the rocks on right and left it comes;’Tis the dull murmur of a host from far,From off the mountain heights our men reply,Sounding aloud the signal of their horns;Etcheco Jauna whets his arrows then.3.They come! They come! See, what a wood of spearsWhat flags of myriad tints float in the midst!What lightning-flashes glance from off their arms!How many be they? Count them well, my child.1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.4.Twenty, and thousands more!’Twere but lost time to count.Our sinewy arms unite, tear up the rocks,Swift from the mountain tops we hurl them downRight on their heads,And crush, and slay them all.5.What would they in our hills, these Northern men?Why come they here our quiet to disturb?God made the hills intending none should pass.Down fall the rolling rocks, the troops they crush!Streams the red blood! Quivers the mangled flesh!Oh! what a sea of blood! What shattered bones!6.Fly, to whom strength remaineth and a horse!Fly, Carloman, red cloak and raven plumes!Lies thy stout nephew, Roland, stark in death;For him his brilliant courage naught avails.And, now, ye Basques, leaving awhile these rocks,Down on the flying foe your arrows shower!7.They run! They run! Where now that wood of spears?Where the gay flags that flaunted in their midst?Rays from their bloodstained arms no longer flash!How many are they? Count them well, my child.20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13,12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.8.One! There is left not one. ’Tis o’er!Etcheco Jauna home with thy dog retire.Embrace thy wife and child,Thine arrows clean, and stow them with thine horn;And then, lie down and sleep thereon.At night yon mangled flesh shall eagles15eat,And to eternity those bones shall bleach.(This translation is due to the kindness of a friend.)The history of this song is very curious, and shows the little value of subjective criticism in any but the most competent hands. The MS. of it is alleged to have been found on the 5th of August, 1794, in a convent at Fuenterrabia, by La Tour d’Auvergne, the celebrated “premier grenadier” of the French Army. It was printed about the year 1835, by Monglave, and accepted as a genuine contemporary document by Fauriel, Chaho, Cenac-Moncaut, and many other French writers; by Lafuente, Amador de los Rios, and other Spanish authors; by Araquistain, and by the Editors of the “Revista Euskara” and of the “Cancionero Vasco” among the Basques. It is needless to say that all guide-books, tourist sketches,et hoc genus omne, have adopted it. It was inserted as genuine by Fr. Michel, in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, and in more recent years a translation appeared in another London magazine. In the “Basques et Navarrais” of M. Louis Lande, lately published, it is alluded to as genuine; and theSaturday Reviewof the 17th of August, 1878, quotes it as a corroboration of the”Chanson de Roland.”16There have been some, however, who have stoutly opposed these claims; among them M. Barry, of Toulouse, M. Gaston Paris, and M. J. F. Blade, which last writer, both in a separate pamphlet and in his “Études sur l’Origine des Basques” (Paris, 1859), has shown from internal grounds its want of authenticity. M. Alexandre Dihinx, a Basque, in a series of articles in theImpartial, of Bayonne, for 1873, which have since been reprinted by M. J. Vinson, inL’Avenir, of Bayonne, May of the present year, conclusively proved both the incorrectness and the modern character of its Basque. But all these authors seem either to have been unaware of, or to have unaccountably overlooked, the true history of the piece. When M. Fr. Michel published this, and another song called “Abarcaren Cantua,” in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, as specimens ofancientBasque poetry, a letter from M. Antoine d’Abbadie,Membre de l’Institut, appeared forthwith in the number for March, 1859, stating that the Abarca song had actually been among the unsuccessful pieces submitted for the prize in the poetical competition at Urrugne, of the previous August; and he adds:—“I am sorry that theAltabiscarraco cantua, mentioned in your same number, is acknowledged as a gem ofancientpopular poetry. Truth compels me to deny that it is universally admitted as such, for one of my Basque neighbours has often named the person who, about twenty four years ago, composed it in French, and the other person, who translated it intomodernbut indifferent Basque.17The latter idiom,on purely philological ground, stands peerless among the most ancient languages in Europe, and I have felt it my duty to disclaim unfounded pretensions of which it has no need.—I am, etc.,“Antoine d’Abbadie,“London, Jan. 31, 1859.”Correspond. de l’Institut de France.In the next number M. Fr. Michel writes, “henceforth I will believe that the songs calledAbarcaren CantuaandAltabiscarraco Cantuaare forgeries”; this testimony is decisive. It has often been repeated by M. d’Abbadie, with the additional assurance that he knows not only the house, but the very room in which the song was first composed. That the language is modern and indifferent Basque is very evident in the text given by M. Fr. Michel in “Le Pays Basque, Paris, 1857.” That above, taken from the “Cancionero Vasco” of the present year, is considerably corrected and improved. All attempts, and many efforts have been made, to force these irregular lines into any known form of Basque rhythm have hitherto signally failed. For the amusement of some of our readers we give below a list of the more evident foreign words in this and in the “Leloaren Cantua.” The relative antiquity will thus be seen at a glance:—L, Latin;S, Spanish;F, French;G, German words.Song of Lelo.RomakoRomaLArmacarmaLOctabianoOctavianusLMunducomundusLLecu (?)locusLTiberTiberLGrandoyagrandisLgrandiosoSSong of Altabiscar.Copetetaric (?)caputLArmadaarmadaSErrespuestarespuestaSDardacdardFColorezcocolorSBanderacbanderaSSimistacquimistaSchimisteFboth from ArabicTropactropaSArrocarocaSEscapaescaparSCarlomanoKarlomannGErrolanRolandFErregherex, regeLLuma18(?)plumaSFiteviteFCapacapaSCondatceacontarSMilacamilleLmilSDemborarentempus temporaLNorteconorteSPasatceapasarSContracontraLLantzazcolanzaSAkhaboacabarSBesarcatcerabesarSEternitateaneternidadSWith reference to the above list we may observe that the Basque never begins a word with r, but always prefixes a euphonic er, ar, ir; hence er-respuesta, ar-roca, Er-rolan, er-rege, hir-risko, risque, F. In later copies editors have altered “Romaco,” in the “Song of Lelo,” into “Er-romaco,” to give it more of a Basque look. Aren, or aen, eco-aco-co are case terminations; tcea-cea marks the verbal noun. Carlomann was never the name of Charlemagne, but of his brother and his uncle. Er-rolan is evidently from the French Roland; neither from the Hruotlandus of Einhardus, nor from the Spanish Roldan. Defenders of the authenticity of the piece allege that these words are only corruptions, introduced in the course of ages; but our readers can judge for themselves how far they enter into the very structure of the composition.The first book printed in Basque, the“Linguæ Vasconum Primitiæ, per Dominum Bernardum Echepare”(Bordeaux, 1545), is a collection of his poems, religious and amatory, the latter predominating. Echepare was the parish priest of the pretty little village of St. Michel, on the Béhérobie Nive, above St. Jean Pied de Port; and, if Nature alone could inspire a poet, he ought at least to have rivalled those of our own English Lakes. But, in truth, his verses are of scant poetical merit, and of little interest save as a philological curiosity.19They belong so distinctly to that irritating mediocrity which never can be excused in a poet. After Echepare the next author is Arnauld Oyhenart, of Mauléon, who published a collection of his youthful Basque poems in Paris, 1657. These have, if anything, less poetical value than Echepare’s; butOyhenart’s collection of proverbs and his “Notitia Utriusque Vasconiæ” will always make his name stand high among Basque writers. Except hymns and noëls (Christmas carols), of which many collections and editions have been published from 1630 downwards, and some of which are noteworthy on account of higher than mere poetical merit, the deep and evidently genuine spirit of piety they evince,20little else is preserved much older than the present century. One ballad indeed there is, “The Betrothed of Tardetz,” which may be somewhat older. No two versions of it are exactly alike, though the outline of the story is always the same. The Lord of the Castle of Tardetz wishes to give the elder of his two daughters in marriage to the King of Hungary, or of Portugal, as some have it. But the lady’s heart has been already won by Sala, the son of the miller of Tardetz, and she bitterly bewails being “sold like a heifer.” The bells which ring for her wedding will soon toll for her funeral. The romance in its present form is evidently incomplete, but apparently ended with the corpse of the bride being brought back to her father’s castle.Most of the Basque songs, except the drinking ones, are set, more or less, in a minor key. The majority of the love songs would have been described by our forefathers as “complaints.” One of the prettiest, both in words and music, is the fragment entitled “The Hermitage of St. Joseph”:—1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21The songs of the Agots, or Cagots, those Pariahs of the Pyrénées, who dwelt apart shunned and despised by all, are, as might be expected, uniformly sad. The misery of the labourer’s lot, and even of that of thecontrabandista, is morefrequently dwelt upon than the compensations to the poverty of the one, or the transient gleams of good fortune of the other. At least, such is the case in all those which are really songs of the people. In these there are not many delights of “life under the greenwood tree,” as in Robin Hood, or our factitious gipsies’ songs. The forest is an object of dread to the Basque poet, and it requires courage and all the powerful attraction of a loved one to induce him to traverse by night its gloomy shades; but then—Mortu, oihan illunaDeusere ez da neretzat.Deserts and forests darkThey are then nought to me.The following is an illustration of the Cagots’ or Agots’ songs. This piece, of which the author was the hero, was written about 1783, when he was eighteen years old.Cf.Fr. Michel, “Les Races Maudites de France et de l’Espagne,” vol. ii. p. 150, and “Le Pays Basque,” p. 270; and, for the music, Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque,” p. 172.221.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.238.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.There are, too, verses of grim and bitter humour, which tell better than the pen of the historian how wretched was formerly the lot of the peasant, even in this favoured corner of France. Famine is personified, and has a name given it, drawn in biting irony from that of the highest Saint of the Church Calendar, Petiri Sanz (S. Peter). He wanders round the country seeking where to settle permanently; at one place he is driven off by (the sale of) rosin, at anotherlittle maize, at another by cheese and cherries; but at last he fixes hisabode definitivelyat St. Pée (another form of Peter), on the Nivelle, where they have nothing at all to sell, and where he torments the inhabitants by forcing them to keep many a fast beyond those of ecclesiastical obligation. The same strain of gloomy humour appears in another form in a poem entitled “Mes Méditations,”24in which a young priest of Ciboure, slowly dying of consumption, traces in detail all the physical and mental agonies of his approaching dissolution. A much less grim example, however, is contained in the following, which we quote mainly because of its brevity. It may remind some of our readers of a longer but similar strain which used often to be sung at harvest-homes in the Midland Counties:—Dote Galdia.251.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.The Lost Dowry.1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.More literally:—1.My father has given me the dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with her little pigs,A brood hen with her chickens,A cord of onions with them.2.The wolf has eaten my sow,Mine, mine, mine;The fox my brood hen,The rats my cord of onions,Good-bye, my dowry.The lack of good poetry in Basque is certainly not due to want of encouragement. Moreover, the wish to produce it is there, but the power seems lacking. For over twenty years prizes have been annually given, first at Urrugne, and then at Sare, by M. Antoine d’Abbadie, of Abbadia. But among the multitude of competing poems few have been of any real value, and both in merit and in the number presented they seem to diminish annually. The best of them have been written by men of the professional class, whose taste has been formed on French, or Spanish, or classical, rather than on native models. The following is considered by native critics to be among the best, though several others are very little, if at all, inferior26:—Artzain Dohatsua.1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.The Happy Shepherd.1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.A pretty cradle song, “Lo! Lo! ene Maitea” (“Sleep! Sleep! my Darling”), by M. Larralde, a physician of St. Jean de Luz, won the prize at Urrugne in 1859. It is written to a tune composed by the Vicomte de Belzunce; the words have been printed in the “Lettres Labourdines,” par H. L. Fabre (Bayonne, 1869).1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!The following belongs to a more quaint and popular class of lullaby, or cradle songs; as it is so simple we do not give the Basque:—Little Peter.281.Ah, my little Peter,I am sleepy, and—Shall I go to bed?Go on spinning, and—Then, then, then,Go on spinning, and—Then, then, yes.2.Dear little Peter,I have spun, and—Shall I go to bed?Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, then,Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, yes.3.Dear little Peter,I have put it in skeins, and—Shall I go to bed?Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, then,Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, yes.4.Dear little Peter,I have wound it off, and—Shall I go to bed?Bleach it, and—Then, then, then,Bleach it, and—Then, then, yes.5.Dear little Peter,I have bleached it, and—Shall I go to bed?Weave it, and—Then, then, then,Weave it, and—Then, then, yes.6.Dear little Peter,I have woven it, and—Shall I go to bed?Cut it, and—Then, then, then,Cut it, and—Then, then, yes.7.Dear little Peter,I have cut it, and—Shall I go to bed?Sew it, and—Then, then, then,Sew it, and—Then, then, yes.8.Oh! my little Peter,I have sewn it, and—Shall I go to bed?It is daylight! and—Then, then, then,It is daylight! and—Then, then, yes!The best living Basque poets are—on the French side, Captain Elisamboure, of Hendaye; and Iparraguirre, of San Sebastian, among the Spanish Basques. Iparraguirre is now very old. He is the author of the song “Guernicaco Arbola” (“The Tree of Guernica,” in Biscay), an oak under which the Lords of Biscay swore fidelity to the Fueros. This has become almost the national song of the Basques.29A few words on two other classes of songs, the drinking and themacaronic, must conclude our remarks. The most spirited drinking song is the following.30It must be remembered, in excuse, that the shepherds live a very hard life on the mountains the greater part of the year, and taste little wine there.Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!It is not at all uncommon in a country where, within the space of some twenty miles, the traveller may hear at least four languages—French, Gascoun, Basque, and Spanish—to find two or more of these mixed in the same poem, and sometimes with a little Latin as well. This occurs frequently in the noëls, where the angel speaks in French or Latin, and the shepherds reply in Gascoun or Basque; also sometimes in the love songs, where the French or Spanish lover will try to soften the heart of a Basque maiden by compliments in French or Spanish, while shegreatesttour de forceof this kind we know, both as to language and rhyme, is the song given in Fr. Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” p. 429. We quote the first verse only; but the song continues with twenty-eight successive Basque rhymes in “in,” and the last seven in “en.”Latin.Sed libera nos a malo. Sit nomen Domini.Deliver us from evil. God’s holy Name be praised;Spanish.Vamos á cantar un canto para diverti.Let’s sing a song, my friends, and a joyous clamour raise;Basque.Jan dugunaz gueroz chahalki hounetiFor we of rare good meat have eaten to our fill,Basque.Eta edan ardoa Juranzouneti.And the good wine of JurançonFrench.Chantons, chantons, mes chers amis, je suis content pardi!have drunken at our will. Then sing, friends, sing, i’faith, I’m right well pleased!Gascoun.Trinquam d’aquest boun bi,Let’s hear the glasses ring,Basque.Eta dezagun canta cantore berri.And our new song, my friends, let’s all together sing.Almost every one of these Basque songs, like all true lyrics, has been adapted to some tune, either older than the words, or composed specially by the author. The music is often superior to the words. In theNineteenth Centuryfor August, 1878, Grant-Duff speaks of some of the Basque airs sung by the Béarnais tenor, Pascal Lamazou, as “extraordinarily beautiful.”31Lamazou died at Pau in May, 1878. Hisrépertoireconsisted of fifty Pyrenean songs, of which thirty-four are Béarnais, fourteen Basque, and twoare from the “Pyrénées Orientales.”32One of the Basque airs “Artzaina,” has somehow got attached to the popular American hymn, “I want to be an angel.” Another, and larger collection, including more correct renderings of some of Lamazou’s fourteen, is that of Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” (Bayonne, 1870). But, long before this, a collection of Basque Songs, Zorzicos, and dance music was published in San Sebastian, by J. D. Iztueta, in 1824 and 1826. Excellent reviews of these two works, with translations of some of the words, appeared in theForeign Review and Continental Miscellany, vol. ii., pp. 338, 1828; and in vol. iv., p. 198. Some specimens of music are to be found at the end of Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” in the “Cancionero Vasco”—now in course of publication, and so often referred to—and in other local publications, besides those in private hands. Basquophiles love to narrate that Rossini passed a summer in the Basque village of Cambo, and believe that they can recognise the influence of Basque airs in some of his subsequent operas. However this may be, let no one judge of Basque music by the noëls usually howled in the streets at Christmas and the New Year, or by the doleful productions of the last Carlist War. It would be equally fair to judge of English music by the serenades of the waits at Christmas. We refer those who wish to investigate further the subject of this chapter to the excellent work, “Le Pays Basque,” par M. Fr. Michel (Paris and London, 1857), for the French, to the “Cancionero Vasco,” by Don José Manterola, now in course of publication at San Sebastian, for the Spanish, Basque; and to M. Sallaberry’s “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” for the music.

II.If we except the Pastorales, the whole of Basque poetry may be described as lyrical; either secular, as songs, or religious, as hymns and noëls. There is no epic in Basque,7and scarcely any narrative ballads; even those chiefly are of uncertain date. A few sonnets exist, but they are almost exclusively translations or imitations of French, Spanish, or classical poems, and cannot be considered as genuine productions of the Basque muse. Some of the religious poetry may be described as didactic, but this again is mostly paraphrase or translation. All that is really native is lyrical. But even in song the Basques show no remarkable poetical merit. The extreme facility with which the language lends itself to rhyming desinence has a most injurious effect upon versification. There are not verses only, but whole poems, in which each line terminates with the same desinence. Instead of striving after that perfection of form which the change of a single word or even letter would affect injuriously, the Basques are too often satisfied with this mere rhyme. Their compositions, too, if published at all, are usually printed only on single sheets of paper, easily dispersed and soon lost. Hence the preservation of Basque poetry is entrusted mainly to the memory, and thus it happens that one scarcely meets with two copies of the same song exactly alike. If the memory fails, the missing words and rhymes are so easily supplied by others that it is not worth theeffort torecallthe precise expression used. And so it comes to pass that, while versification is very common among the Basques, high-class poetry is extremely rare. They have no song writers to compare with Burns or with Béranger. And if it be alleged that poets like these are rare, even among people far more numerous and more cultivated, the Basques still fall short, when measured by a much lower standard. They have no poets to rival the Gascon, Jasmin, or to compare with the Provençal or the Catalan singers at the other end of the Pyrenean chain. There is no modern Basque song which can be placed by the side of “Le Demiselle” and others of the Biarritz poet, Justin Larrebat; and among the older poets neither Dechepare nor Oyhenart is equal to the Béarnais, Despourrins. While the Jacobite songs of Scotland are among the finest productions of her lyric muse, the Carlist songs, on the contrary, though telling of an equally brave and romantic struggle, are one and all below mediocrity. But, while fully admitting this, there is yet much that is pleasing in Basque poetry. If it has no great merits, it is still free from any very gross defects. It is always true and manly, and completely free from affectation. It is seldom forced, and the singer sings just because it pleases him to do so, not to satisfy a craving vanity or to strain after the name and fame of a poet. The moral tone is almost always good. If at times, as in the drinking songs, and in some few of the amatory, the expression is free and outspoken, vice is never glossed over or covered with a false sentimentality. The Basque is never mawkish or equivocal—with him right is right, and wrong is wrong, and Basque poetry leaves no unpleasant after-taste behind.8The only peculiarity, in a poetical sense, is the extreme fondness for, and frequent employment of, allegory. In the love songs the fair one is constantly addressed under some allegorical disguise. It is a star the lover admires, or it is the nightingale who bewails his sad lot. The loved one is a flower, or a heifer, a dove or a quail, a pomegranate or an apple, figures common to the poets of other countries; but the Basques, even the rudest of them, never confuse these metaphors, as more famous poets sometimes do—the allegory is ever consistently maintained throughout. Even in prose they are accustomed to this use of allegory, and catch up the slightest allusion to it; but to others it often renders their poetry obscure, and very difficult of successful translation. The stranger is in doubt whether a given poem is really meant only for a description of the habits of the nightingale, or whether the bird is a pseudonym for the poet or the poet’s mistress. Curiously enough, sometimes educated Basques seem to have almost as much difficulty in seizing this allegory as have foreigners. Thus, in a work now in course of publication,9one of the most famous of these allegorical complaints is actually taken for a poetical description of the nightingale itself.The historical songs, like all other historical remains among the Basques, are few and doubtful. There are two songs, however, for which are claimed a greater historical importance and a higher antiquity than any others can pretend to. These are the so-called “Leloaren Cantua” and the “Altabiskarco Cantua.” Both these are reputed by some writers to be almost contemporaneous with the events which they relate. The first is said to be founded on the wars of the Roman Emperor Augustus with the Cantabri; the second is an account of the defeat of Charlemagne’s rearguardat Roncesvalles,A.D.778. The former may be some three hundred years old, but the latter is certainly a production of the nineteenth century, though none the less it is the most spirited offspring of the Basque muse. We will give the text and translation of each, and then justify our conclusions.Leloaren Cantua.1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.15.(Torn.)16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.Song of Lelo.1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).13.(It is) impossible more.14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.The history of the above song is as follows: At the close of the sixteenth century a notary of Zornoza, J. Iñiguez de Ibargüen, was commissioned by the Junta of Biscay to search the principal libraries of Spain for documents relating to the Basques. In the archives of Simancas he discovered an ancient MS. on parchment, containing verses in Basque, some almost, others wholly obliterated. Of these he copied what he could, and inserted them in p. 71 of his “Cronica general de España y sumaria de Vizcaya,” a work which still exists in manuscript in the town of Marquina. From this history of Ibargüen the song was first reproduced by the celebrated Wilhelm von Humboldt, and published by him in 1817 in a supplement to Vater’s “Mithridates.” The text above given is taken from that of the “Cancionero Vasco,” Series 2, iii., pp. 18, 20, and claims to be a new and literal copy from the MS. “Cronica” of Ibargüen. From the date of its publication by Humboldt, this piece has been the subject of much discussion. That it is one of the oldest fragments of Basque poetry hardly admits of doubt. But, when asked to believe that it is contemporary with Augustus, we must hesitate. The question arises: Did Ibargüen copy the almost defaced original exactly as it was, or did he suffer his declared predilections unconsciously to influence his reading of it?11Many of the words are still very obscure, and the translation of them is almost guess work. The first verse has little or no apparent connection with the rest of the poem, and has given rise to the most fanciful interpretations. Lelo has been imagined by some to be the name of a Basque hero; Zara, or Zarat, who kills him, the name of another; and the two reproduce the story of Agamemnon and Ægisthus. Others, with more probability, take Lelo, as is certainly the case in other poems, for a mere refrain (the everlasting Lelo, as a Basque proverb has it) used by the singer merely to give the key to the tune or rhythm to which he modulates the rest. Chaho, with his usual audacity, would translate it “glory,” and render it thus:—Finished is the glory! dead is the glory,Our glory!Old age has killed the glory,Our glory!But it has been very plausibly suggested12that the verse bears a suspicious likeness to a vague reminiscence of the Moslem cry “Lâ Êlah Ulâ Allah!” &c.; and if so, this, in the north of Spain, would at one bound place the poem some eight centuries at least after the time of Augustus. The proper names have a too correct look. Octabiano, Roma, and Tiber are far too much like the Latin; for if Greeks and Romans complained, as do Strabo and Mela, of the difficulty of transcribing Basque or Iberian names into their own language, the Basques might possibly find a somewhat corresponding difficulty in transcribing Greek and Latin names into Basque. Moreover, in a later verse appears “Uchin,” asobriquetfor “Augustino,” as a baptismal name in use among the Spanish Basques to this day. What the poem really refers to we dare not assert. We present the “Leloaren Cantua” to our readers simply as one of the oldest curiosities of Basqueverse, without pledging ourselves to any particular date or interpretation thereof.Fortunately, we shall be able to speak with much more decision of the “Altabiskarco Cantua,” of which the following is the latest text:—Altabiskarco Cantua.1.Oyhu bat aditua izan daEscualdunen mendien artetic,Eta etcheco jaunac, bere athearen aitcinean chuticIdeki tu beharriac, eta erran du: “Nor da hor? Cer nahi dautet?”Eta chacurra, bere nausiaren oinetan lo zagüena,Altchatu da, eta karrasiz Altabiscarren inguruac bethe ditu.2.Ibañetaren lepoan harabotz bat aghertcen da,Urbiltcen da, arrokac ezker eta ezcuin jotcen dituelaric;Hori da urrundic heldu den armada baten burrumba.Mendien copetetaric guriec errespuesta eman diote;Beren tuten soinua adiaraci dute,Eta etcheco jaunac bere dardac zorrozten tu.3.Heldu dira! heldu dira! cer lantzazco sasia!Nola cer nahi colorezco banderac heien erdian aghertcen direnCer simistac atheratcen diren heien armetaric!Cembat dira? Haurra condatzic onghi!Bat, biga, hirur, laur, bortz, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar, hameca, hamabi,Hamahirur, hamalaur, hamabortz, hamasei, hamazazpi, hemezortzi, hemeretzi, hogoi.4.Hogoi eta milaca oraino!Heien condatcea demboraren galtcea liteque.Urbilditzagun gure beso zailac, errotic athera ditzagun arroca horiec,Botha ditzagun mendiaren patarra beheraHein buruen gaineraino;Leher ditzagun, herioz jo ditzagun.5.Cer nahi zuten gure mendietaric Norteco guizon horiec?Certaco jin dira gure bakearen nahastera?Jaungoicoac mendiac eguin dituenean nahi izan du hec guizonec ez pasatcea.Bainan arrokac biribilcolica erortcen dira, tropac lehertcen dituzte.Odola churrutan badoa, haraghi puscac dardaran daude.Oh! cembat hezur carrascatuac! cer odolezco itsasoa!6.Escapa! escapa! indar eta zaldi dituzeneac!Escapa hadi, Carlomano erreghe, hire luma beltzekin eta hire capa gorriarekin;Hire iloba maitea, Errolan zangarra, hantchet hila dago;Bere zangartasuna beretaco ez tu izan.Eta orai, Escualdunac, utz ditzagun arroca horiec,Jauts ghiten fite, igor ditzagun gure dardac escapatcen direnen contra.7.Badoazi! badoazi! non da bada lantzazco sasi hura?Non dira heien erdian agheri ciren cer nahi colorezco bandera hec?Ez da gheiago simiztarik atheratcen heien arma odolez bethetaric.Cembat dira? Haurra, condatzac onghi.Hogoi, hemeretzi, hemezortzi, hamazazpi, hamasei, hamabortz, hamalaur, hamairur,Hamabi, hameca, hamar, bederatzi, zortzi, zazpi, sei, bortz, laur, hirur biga, bat.8.Bat! ez da bihiric aghertcen gheiago. Akhabo da!Etcheco jauna, joaiten ahal zira zure chacurrarekin,Zure emaztearen eta zure haurren besarcatcera,Zure darden garbitcera eta alchatcera zure tutekin,Eta ghero heien gainean etzatera eta lo gitera.Gabaz, arranoac joainen dira haraghi pusca lehertu horien jatera,Eta hezur horiec oro churituco dira eternitatean.Song of Altabiscar.1.A cry is heardFrom the Basque mountain’s midst.Etcheco Jauna,13at his door erect,Listens, and cries, “What want they? Who goes there?”At his lord’s feet the dog that sleeping layStarts up, his bark fills Altabiscar14round.2.Through Ibañeta’s14pass the noise resounds,Striking the rocks on right and left it comes;’Tis the dull murmur of a host from far,From off the mountain heights our men reply,Sounding aloud the signal of their horns;Etcheco Jauna whets his arrows then.3.They come! They come! See, what a wood of spearsWhat flags of myriad tints float in the midst!What lightning-flashes glance from off their arms!How many be they? Count them well, my child.1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.4.Twenty, and thousands more!’Twere but lost time to count.Our sinewy arms unite, tear up the rocks,Swift from the mountain tops we hurl them downRight on their heads,And crush, and slay them all.5.What would they in our hills, these Northern men?Why come they here our quiet to disturb?God made the hills intending none should pass.Down fall the rolling rocks, the troops they crush!Streams the red blood! Quivers the mangled flesh!Oh! what a sea of blood! What shattered bones!6.Fly, to whom strength remaineth and a horse!Fly, Carloman, red cloak and raven plumes!Lies thy stout nephew, Roland, stark in death;For him his brilliant courage naught avails.And, now, ye Basques, leaving awhile these rocks,Down on the flying foe your arrows shower!7.They run! They run! Where now that wood of spears?Where the gay flags that flaunted in their midst?Rays from their bloodstained arms no longer flash!How many are they? Count them well, my child.20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13,12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.8.One! There is left not one. ’Tis o’er!Etcheco Jauna home with thy dog retire.Embrace thy wife and child,Thine arrows clean, and stow them with thine horn;And then, lie down and sleep thereon.At night yon mangled flesh shall eagles15eat,And to eternity those bones shall bleach.(This translation is due to the kindness of a friend.)The history of this song is very curious, and shows the little value of subjective criticism in any but the most competent hands. The MS. of it is alleged to have been found on the 5th of August, 1794, in a convent at Fuenterrabia, by La Tour d’Auvergne, the celebrated “premier grenadier” of the French Army. It was printed about the year 1835, by Monglave, and accepted as a genuine contemporary document by Fauriel, Chaho, Cenac-Moncaut, and many other French writers; by Lafuente, Amador de los Rios, and other Spanish authors; by Araquistain, and by the Editors of the “Revista Euskara” and of the “Cancionero Vasco” among the Basques. It is needless to say that all guide-books, tourist sketches,et hoc genus omne, have adopted it. It was inserted as genuine by Fr. Michel, in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, and in more recent years a translation appeared in another London magazine. In the “Basques et Navarrais” of M. Louis Lande, lately published, it is alluded to as genuine; and theSaturday Reviewof the 17th of August, 1878, quotes it as a corroboration of the”Chanson de Roland.”16There have been some, however, who have stoutly opposed these claims; among them M. Barry, of Toulouse, M. Gaston Paris, and M. J. F. Blade, which last writer, both in a separate pamphlet and in his “Études sur l’Origine des Basques” (Paris, 1859), has shown from internal grounds its want of authenticity. M. Alexandre Dihinx, a Basque, in a series of articles in theImpartial, of Bayonne, for 1873, which have since been reprinted by M. J. Vinson, inL’Avenir, of Bayonne, May of the present year, conclusively proved both the incorrectness and the modern character of its Basque. But all these authors seem either to have been unaware of, or to have unaccountably overlooked, the true history of the piece. When M. Fr. Michel published this, and another song called “Abarcaren Cantua,” in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, as specimens ofancientBasque poetry, a letter from M. Antoine d’Abbadie,Membre de l’Institut, appeared forthwith in the number for March, 1859, stating that the Abarca song had actually been among the unsuccessful pieces submitted for the prize in the poetical competition at Urrugne, of the previous August; and he adds:—“I am sorry that theAltabiscarraco cantua, mentioned in your same number, is acknowledged as a gem ofancientpopular poetry. Truth compels me to deny that it is universally admitted as such, for one of my Basque neighbours has often named the person who, about twenty four years ago, composed it in French, and the other person, who translated it intomodernbut indifferent Basque.17The latter idiom,on purely philological ground, stands peerless among the most ancient languages in Europe, and I have felt it my duty to disclaim unfounded pretensions of which it has no need.—I am, etc.,“Antoine d’Abbadie,“London, Jan. 31, 1859.”Correspond. de l’Institut de France.In the next number M. Fr. Michel writes, “henceforth I will believe that the songs calledAbarcaren CantuaandAltabiscarraco Cantuaare forgeries”; this testimony is decisive. It has often been repeated by M. d’Abbadie, with the additional assurance that he knows not only the house, but the very room in which the song was first composed. That the language is modern and indifferent Basque is very evident in the text given by M. Fr. Michel in “Le Pays Basque, Paris, 1857.” That above, taken from the “Cancionero Vasco” of the present year, is considerably corrected and improved. All attempts, and many efforts have been made, to force these irregular lines into any known form of Basque rhythm have hitherto signally failed. For the amusement of some of our readers we give below a list of the more evident foreign words in this and in the “Leloaren Cantua.” The relative antiquity will thus be seen at a glance:—L, Latin;S, Spanish;F, French;G, German words.Song of Lelo.RomakoRomaLArmacarmaLOctabianoOctavianusLMunducomundusLLecu (?)locusLTiberTiberLGrandoyagrandisLgrandiosoSSong of Altabiscar.Copetetaric (?)caputLArmadaarmadaSErrespuestarespuestaSDardacdardFColorezcocolorSBanderacbanderaSSimistacquimistaSchimisteFboth from ArabicTropactropaSArrocarocaSEscapaescaparSCarlomanoKarlomannGErrolanRolandFErregherex, regeLLuma18(?)plumaSFiteviteFCapacapaSCondatceacontarSMilacamilleLmilSDemborarentempus temporaLNorteconorteSPasatceapasarSContracontraLLantzazcolanzaSAkhaboacabarSBesarcatcerabesarSEternitateaneternidadSWith reference to the above list we may observe that the Basque never begins a word with r, but always prefixes a euphonic er, ar, ir; hence er-respuesta, ar-roca, Er-rolan, er-rege, hir-risko, risque, F. In later copies editors have altered “Romaco,” in the “Song of Lelo,” into “Er-romaco,” to give it more of a Basque look. Aren, or aen, eco-aco-co are case terminations; tcea-cea marks the verbal noun. Carlomann was never the name of Charlemagne, but of his brother and his uncle. Er-rolan is evidently from the French Roland; neither from the Hruotlandus of Einhardus, nor from the Spanish Roldan. Defenders of the authenticity of the piece allege that these words are only corruptions, introduced in the course of ages; but our readers can judge for themselves how far they enter into the very structure of the composition.The first book printed in Basque, the“Linguæ Vasconum Primitiæ, per Dominum Bernardum Echepare”(Bordeaux, 1545), is a collection of his poems, religious and amatory, the latter predominating. Echepare was the parish priest of the pretty little village of St. Michel, on the Béhérobie Nive, above St. Jean Pied de Port; and, if Nature alone could inspire a poet, he ought at least to have rivalled those of our own English Lakes. But, in truth, his verses are of scant poetical merit, and of little interest save as a philological curiosity.19They belong so distinctly to that irritating mediocrity which never can be excused in a poet. After Echepare the next author is Arnauld Oyhenart, of Mauléon, who published a collection of his youthful Basque poems in Paris, 1657. These have, if anything, less poetical value than Echepare’s; butOyhenart’s collection of proverbs and his “Notitia Utriusque Vasconiæ” will always make his name stand high among Basque writers. Except hymns and noëls (Christmas carols), of which many collections and editions have been published from 1630 downwards, and some of which are noteworthy on account of higher than mere poetical merit, the deep and evidently genuine spirit of piety they evince,20little else is preserved much older than the present century. One ballad indeed there is, “The Betrothed of Tardetz,” which may be somewhat older. No two versions of it are exactly alike, though the outline of the story is always the same. The Lord of the Castle of Tardetz wishes to give the elder of his two daughters in marriage to the King of Hungary, or of Portugal, as some have it. But the lady’s heart has been already won by Sala, the son of the miller of Tardetz, and she bitterly bewails being “sold like a heifer.” The bells which ring for her wedding will soon toll for her funeral. The romance in its present form is evidently incomplete, but apparently ended with the corpse of the bride being brought back to her father’s castle.Most of the Basque songs, except the drinking ones, are set, more or less, in a minor key. The majority of the love songs would have been described by our forefathers as “complaints.” One of the prettiest, both in words and music, is the fragment entitled “The Hermitage of St. Joseph”:—1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21The songs of the Agots, or Cagots, those Pariahs of the Pyrénées, who dwelt apart shunned and despised by all, are, as might be expected, uniformly sad. The misery of the labourer’s lot, and even of that of thecontrabandista, is morefrequently dwelt upon than the compensations to the poverty of the one, or the transient gleams of good fortune of the other. At least, such is the case in all those which are really songs of the people. In these there are not many delights of “life under the greenwood tree,” as in Robin Hood, or our factitious gipsies’ songs. The forest is an object of dread to the Basque poet, and it requires courage and all the powerful attraction of a loved one to induce him to traverse by night its gloomy shades; but then—Mortu, oihan illunaDeusere ez da neretzat.Deserts and forests darkThey are then nought to me.The following is an illustration of the Cagots’ or Agots’ songs. This piece, of which the author was the hero, was written about 1783, when he was eighteen years old.Cf.Fr. Michel, “Les Races Maudites de France et de l’Espagne,” vol. ii. p. 150, and “Le Pays Basque,” p. 270; and, for the music, Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque,” p. 172.221.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.238.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.There are, too, verses of grim and bitter humour, which tell better than the pen of the historian how wretched was formerly the lot of the peasant, even in this favoured corner of France. Famine is personified, and has a name given it, drawn in biting irony from that of the highest Saint of the Church Calendar, Petiri Sanz (S. Peter). He wanders round the country seeking where to settle permanently; at one place he is driven off by (the sale of) rosin, at anotherlittle maize, at another by cheese and cherries; but at last he fixes hisabode definitivelyat St. Pée (another form of Peter), on the Nivelle, where they have nothing at all to sell, and where he torments the inhabitants by forcing them to keep many a fast beyond those of ecclesiastical obligation. The same strain of gloomy humour appears in another form in a poem entitled “Mes Méditations,”24in which a young priest of Ciboure, slowly dying of consumption, traces in detail all the physical and mental agonies of his approaching dissolution. A much less grim example, however, is contained in the following, which we quote mainly because of its brevity. It may remind some of our readers of a longer but similar strain which used often to be sung at harvest-homes in the Midland Counties:—Dote Galdia.251.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.The Lost Dowry.1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.More literally:—1.My father has given me the dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with her little pigs,A brood hen with her chickens,A cord of onions with them.2.The wolf has eaten my sow,Mine, mine, mine;The fox my brood hen,The rats my cord of onions,Good-bye, my dowry.The lack of good poetry in Basque is certainly not due to want of encouragement. Moreover, the wish to produce it is there, but the power seems lacking. For over twenty years prizes have been annually given, first at Urrugne, and then at Sare, by M. Antoine d’Abbadie, of Abbadia. But among the multitude of competing poems few have been of any real value, and both in merit and in the number presented they seem to diminish annually. The best of them have been written by men of the professional class, whose taste has been formed on French, or Spanish, or classical, rather than on native models. The following is considered by native critics to be among the best, though several others are very little, if at all, inferior26:—Artzain Dohatsua.1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.The Happy Shepherd.1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.A pretty cradle song, “Lo! Lo! ene Maitea” (“Sleep! Sleep! my Darling”), by M. Larralde, a physician of St. Jean de Luz, won the prize at Urrugne in 1859. It is written to a tune composed by the Vicomte de Belzunce; the words have been printed in the “Lettres Labourdines,” par H. L. Fabre (Bayonne, 1869).1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!The following belongs to a more quaint and popular class of lullaby, or cradle songs; as it is so simple we do not give the Basque:—Little Peter.281.Ah, my little Peter,I am sleepy, and—Shall I go to bed?Go on spinning, and—Then, then, then,Go on spinning, and—Then, then, yes.2.Dear little Peter,I have spun, and—Shall I go to bed?Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, then,Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, yes.3.Dear little Peter,I have put it in skeins, and—Shall I go to bed?Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, then,Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, yes.4.Dear little Peter,I have wound it off, and—Shall I go to bed?Bleach it, and—Then, then, then,Bleach it, and—Then, then, yes.5.Dear little Peter,I have bleached it, and—Shall I go to bed?Weave it, and—Then, then, then,Weave it, and—Then, then, yes.6.Dear little Peter,I have woven it, and—Shall I go to bed?Cut it, and—Then, then, then,Cut it, and—Then, then, yes.7.Dear little Peter,I have cut it, and—Shall I go to bed?Sew it, and—Then, then, then,Sew it, and—Then, then, yes.8.Oh! my little Peter,I have sewn it, and—Shall I go to bed?It is daylight! and—Then, then, then,It is daylight! and—Then, then, yes!The best living Basque poets are—on the French side, Captain Elisamboure, of Hendaye; and Iparraguirre, of San Sebastian, among the Spanish Basques. Iparraguirre is now very old. He is the author of the song “Guernicaco Arbola” (“The Tree of Guernica,” in Biscay), an oak under which the Lords of Biscay swore fidelity to the Fueros. This has become almost the national song of the Basques.29A few words on two other classes of songs, the drinking and themacaronic, must conclude our remarks. The most spirited drinking song is the following.30It must be remembered, in excuse, that the shepherds live a very hard life on the mountains the greater part of the year, and taste little wine there.Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!It is not at all uncommon in a country where, within the space of some twenty miles, the traveller may hear at least four languages—French, Gascoun, Basque, and Spanish—to find two or more of these mixed in the same poem, and sometimes with a little Latin as well. This occurs frequently in the noëls, where the angel speaks in French or Latin, and the shepherds reply in Gascoun or Basque; also sometimes in the love songs, where the French or Spanish lover will try to soften the heart of a Basque maiden by compliments in French or Spanish, while shegreatesttour de forceof this kind we know, both as to language and rhyme, is the song given in Fr. Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” p. 429. We quote the first verse only; but the song continues with twenty-eight successive Basque rhymes in “in,” and the last seven in “en.”Latin.Sed libera nos a malo. Sit nomen Domini.Deliver us from evil. God’s holy Name be praised;Spanish.Vamos á cantar un canto para diverti.Let’s sing a song, my friends, and a joyous clamour raise;Basque.Jan dugunaz gueroz chahalki hounetiFor we of rare good meat have eaten to our fill,Basque.Eta edan ardoa Juranzouneti.And the good wine of JurançonFrench.Chantons, chantons, mes chers amis, je suis content pardi!have drunken at our will. Then sing, friends, sing, i’faith, I’m right well pleased!Gascoun.Trinquam d’aquest boun bi,Let’s hear the glasses ring,Basque.Eta dezagun canta cantore berri.And our new song, my friends, let’s all together sing.Almost every one of these Basque songs, like all true lyrics, has been adapted to some tune, either older than the words, or composed specially by the author. The music is often superior to the words. In theNineteenth Centuryfor August, 1878, Grant-Duff speaks of some of the Basque airs sung by the Béarnais tenor, Pascal Lamazou, as “extraordinarily beautiful.”31Lamazou died at Pau in May, 1878. Hisrépertoireconsisted of fifty Pyrenean songs, of which thirty-four are Béarnais, fourteen Basque, and twoare from the “Pyrénées Orientales.”32One of the Basque airs “Artzaina,” has somehow got attached to the popular American hymn, “I want to be an angel.” Another, and larger collection, including more correct renderings of some of Lamazou’s fourteen, is that of Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” (Bayonne, 1870). But, long before this, a collection of Basque Songs, Zorzicos, and dance music was published in San Sebastian, by J. D. Iztueta, in 1824 and 1826. Excellent reviews of these two works, with translations of some of the words, appeared in theForeign Review and Continental Miscellany, vol. ii., pp. 338, 1828; and in vol. iv., p. 198. Some specimens of music are to be found at the end of Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” in the “Cancionero Vasco”—now in course of publication, and so often referred to—and in other local publications, besides those in private hands. Basquophiles love to narrate that Rossini passed a summer in the Basque village of Cambo, and believe that they can recognise the influence of Basque airs in some of his subsequent operas. However this may be, let no one judge of Basque music by the noëls usually howled in the streets at Christmas and the New Year, or by the doleful productions of the last Carlist War. It would be equally fair to judge of English music by the serenades of the waits at Christmas. We refer those who wish to investigate further the subject of this chapter to the excellent work, “Le Pays Basque,” par M. Fr. Michel (Paris and London, 1857), for the French, to the “Cancionero Vasco,” by Don José Manterola, now in course of publication at San Sebastian, for the Spanish, Basque; and to M. Sallaberry’s “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” for the music.

II.If we except the Pastorales, the whole of Basque poetry may be described as lyrical; either secular, as songs, or religious, as hymns and noëls. There is no epic in Basque,7and scarcely any narrative ballads; even those chiefly are of uncertain date. A few sonnets exist, but they are almost exclusively translations or imitations of French, Spanish, or classical poems, and cannot be considered as genuine productions of the Basque muse. Some of the religious poetry may be described as didactic, but this again is mostly paraphrase or translation. All that is really native is lyrical. But even in song the Basques show no remarkable poetical merit. The extreme facility with which the language lends itself to rhyming desinence has a most injurious effect upon versification. There are not verses only, but whole poems, in which each line terminates with the same desinence. Instead of striving after that perfection of form which the change of a single word or even letter would affect injuriously, the Basques are too often satisfied with this mere rhyme. Their compositions, too, if published at all, are usually printed only on single sheets of paper, easily dispersed and soon lost. Hence the preservation of Basque poetry is entrusted mainly to the memory, and thus it happens that one scarcely meets with two copies of the same song exactly alike. If the memory fails, the missing words and rhymes are so easily supplied by others that it is not worth theeffort torecallthe precise expression used. And so it comes to pass that, while versification is very common among the Basques, high-class poetry is extremely rare. They have no song writers to compare with Burns or with Béranger. And if it be alleged that poets like these are rare, even among people far more numerous and more cultivated, the Basques still fall short, when measured by a much lower standard. They have no poets to rival the Gascon, Jasmin, or to compare with the Provençal or the Catalan singers at the other end of the Pyrenean chain. There is no modern Basque song which can be placed by the side of “Le Demiselle” and others of the Biarritz poet, Justin Larrebat; and among the older poets neither Dechepare nor Oyhenart is equal to the Béarnais, Despourrins. While the Jacobite songs of Scotland are among the finest productions of her lyric muse, the Carlist songs, on the contrary, though telling of an equally brave and romantic struggle, are one and all below mediocrity. But, while fully admitting this, there is yet much that is pleasing in Basque poetry. If it has no great merits, it is still free from any very gross defects. It is always true and manly, and completely free from affectation. It is seldom forced, and the singer sings just because it pleases him to do so, not to satisfy a craving vanity or to strain after the name and fame of a poet. The moral tone is almost always good. If at times, as in the drinking songs, and in some few of the amatory, the expression is free and outspoken, vice is never glossed over or covered with a false sentimentality. The Basque is never mawkish or equivocal—with him right is right, and wrong is wrong, and Basque poetry leaves no unpleasant after-taste behind.8The only peculiarity, in a poetical sense, is the extreme fondness for, and frequent employment of, allegory. In the love songs the fair one is constantly addressed under some allegorical disguise. It is a star the lover admires, or it is the nightingale who bewails his sad lot. The loved one is a flower, or a heifer, a dove or a quail, a pomegranate or an apple, figures common to the poets of other countries; but the Basques, even the rudest of them, never confuse these metaphors, as more famous poets sometimes do—the allegory is ever consistently maintained throughout. Even in prose they are accustomed to this use of allegory, and catch up the slightest allusion to it; but to others it often renders their poetry obscure, and very difficult of successful translation. The stranger is in doubt whether a given poem is really meant only for a description of the habits of the nightingale, or whether the bird is a pseudonym for the poet or the poet’s mistress. Curiously enough, sometimes educated Basques seem to have almost as much difficulty in seizing this allegory as have foreigners. Thus, in a work now in course of publication,9one of the most famous of these allegorical complaints is actually taken for a poetical description of the nightingale itself.The historical songs, like all other historical remains among the Basques, are few and doubtful. There are two songs, however, for which are claimed a greater historical importance and a higher antiquity than any others can pretend to. These are the so-called “Leloaren Cantua” and the “Altabiskarco Cantua.” Both these are reputed by some writers to be almost contemporaneous with the events which they relate. The first is said to be founded on the wars of the Roman Emperor Augustus with the Cantabri; the second is an account of the defeat of Charlemagne’s rearguardat Roncesvalles,A.D.778. The former may be some three hundred years old, but the latter is certainly a production of the nineteenth century, though none the less it is the most spirited offspring of the Basque muse. We will give the text and translation of each, and then justify our conclusions.Leloaren Cantua.1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.15.(Torn.)16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.Song of Lelo.1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).13.(It is) impossible more.14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.The history of the above song is as follows: At the close of the sixteenth century a notary of Zornoza, J. Iñiguez de Ibargüen, was commissioned by the Junta of Biscay to search the principal libraries of Spain for documents relating to the Basques. In the archives of Simancas he discovered an ancient MS. on parchment, containing verses in Basque, some almost, others wholly obliterated. Of these he copied what he could, and inserted them in p. 71 of his “Cronica general de España y sumaria de Vizcaya,” a work which still exists in manuscript in the town of Marquina. From this history of Ibargüen the song was first reproduced by the celebrated Wilhelm von Humboldt, and published by him in 1817 in a supplement to Vater’s “Mithridates.” The text above given is taken from that of the “Cancionero Vasco,” Series 2, iii., pp. 18, 20, and claims to be a new and literal copy from the MS. “Cronica” of Ibargüen. From the date of its publication by Humboldt, this piece has been the subject of much discussion. That it is one of the oldest fragments of Basque poetry hardly admits of doubt. But, when asked to believe that it is contemporary with Augustus, we must hesitate. The question arises: Did Ibargüen copy the almost defaced original exactly as it was, or did he suffer his declared predilections unconsciously to influence his reading of it?11Many of the words are still very obscure, and the translation of them is almost guess work. The first verse has little or no apparent connection with the rest of the poem, and has given rise to the most fanciful interpretations. Lelo has been imagined by some to be the name of a Basque hero; Zara, or Zarat, who kills him, the name of another; and the two reproduce the story of Agamemnon and Ægisthus. Others, with more probability, take Lelo, as is certainly the case in other poems, for a mere refrain (the everlasting Lelo, as a Basque proverb has it) used by the singer merely to give the key to the tune or rhythm to which he modulates the rest. Chaho, with his usual audacity, would translate it “glory,” and render it thus:—Finished is the glory! dead is the glory,Our glory!Old age has killed the glory,Our glory!But it has been very plausibly suggested12that the verse bears a suspicious likeness to a vague reminiscence of the Moslem cry “Lâ Êlah Ulâ Allah!” &c.; and if so, this, in the north of Spain, would at one bound place the poem some eight centuries at least after the time of Augustus. The proper names have a too correct look. Octabiano, Roma, and Tiber are far too much like the Latin; for if Greeks and Romans complained, as do Strabo and Mela, of the difficulty of transcribing Basque or Iberian names into their own language, the Basques might possibly find a somewhat corresponding difficulty in transcribing Greek and Latin names into Basque. Moreover, in a later verse appears “Uchin,” asobriquetfor “Augustino,” as a baptismal name in use among the Spanish Basques to this day. What the poem really refers to we dare not assert. We present the “Leloaren Cantua” to our readers simply as one of the oldest curiosities of Basqueverse, without pledging ourselves to any particular date or interpretation thereof.Fortunately, we shall be able to speak with much more decision of the “Altabiskarco Cantua,” of which the following is the latest text:—Altabiskarco Cantua.1.Oyhu bat aditua izan daEscualdunen mendien artetic,Eta etcheco jaunac, bere athearen aitcinean chuticIdeki tu beharriac, eta erran du: “Nor da hor? Cer nahi dautet?”Eta chacurra, bere nausiaren oinetan lo zagüena,Altchatu da, eta karrasiz Altabiscarren inguruac bethe ditu.2.Ibañetaren lepoan harabotz bat aghertcen da,Urbiltcen da, arrokac ezker eta ezcuin jotcen dituelaric;Hori da urrundic heldu den armada baten burrumba.Mendien copetetaric guriec errespuesta eman diote;Beren tuten soinua adiaraci dute,Eta etcheco jaunac bere dardac zorrozten tu.3.Heldu dira! heldu dira! cer lantzazco sasia!Nola cer nahi colorezco banderac heien erdian aghertcen direnCer simistac atheratcen diren heien armetaric!Cembat dira? Haurra condatzic onghi!Bat, biga, hirur, laur, bortz, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar, hameca, hamabi,Hamahirur, hamalaur, hamabortz, hamasei, hamazazpi, hemezortzi, hemeretzi, hogoi.4.Hogoi eta milaca oraino!Heien condatcea demboraren galtcea liteque.Urbilditzagun gure beso zailac, errotic athera ditzagun arroca horiec,Botha ditzagun mendiaren patarra beheraHein buruen gaineraino;Leher ditzagun, herioz jo ditzagun.5.Cer nahi zuten gure mendietaric Norteco guizon horiec?Certaco jin dira gure bakearen nahastera?Jaungoicoac mendiac eguin dituenean nahi izan du hec guizonec ez pasatcea.Bainan arrokac biribilcolica erortcen dira, tropac lehertcen dituzte.Odola churrutan badoa, haraghi puscac dardaran daude.Oh! cembat hezur carrascatuac! cer odolezco itsasoa!6.Escapa! escapa! indar eta zaldi dituzeneac!Escapa hadi, Carlomano erreghe, hire luma beltzekin eta hire capa gorriarekin;Hire iloba maitea, Errolan zangarra, hantchet hila dago;Bere zangartasuna beretaco ez tu izan.Eta orai, Escualdunac, utz ditzagun arroca horiec,Jauts ghiten fite, igor ditzagun gure dardac escapatcen direnen contra.7.Badoazi! badoazi! non da bada lantzazco sasi hura?Non dira heien erdian agheri ciren cer nahi colorezco bandera hec?Ez da gheiago simiztarik atheratcen heien arma odolez bethetaric.Cembat dira? Haurra, condatzac onghi.Hogoi, hemeretzi, hemezortzi, hamazazpi, hamasei, hamabortz, hamalaur, hamairur,Hamabi, hameca, hamar, bederatzi, zortzi, zazpi, sei, bortz, laur, hirur biga, bat.8.Bat! ez da bihiric aghertcen gheiago. Akhabo da!Etcheco jauna, joaiten ahal zira zure chacurrarekin,Zure emaztearen eta zure haurren besarcatcera,Zure darden garbitcera eta alchatcera zure tutekin,Eta ghero heien gainean etzatera eta lo gitera.Gabaz, arranoac joainen dira haraghi pusca lehertu horien jatera,Eta hezur horiec oro churituco dira eternitatean.Song of Altabiscar.1.A cry is heardFrom the Basque mountain’s midst.Etcheco Jauna,13at his door erect,Listens, and cries, “What want they? Who goes there?”At his lord’s feet the dog that sleeping layStarts up, his bark fills Altabiscar14round.2.Through Ibañeta’s14pass the noise resounds,Striking the rocks on right and left it comes;’Tis the dull murmur of a host from far,From off the mountain heights our men reply,Sounding aloud the signal of their horns;Etcheco Jauna whets his arrows then.3.They come! They come! See, what a wood of spearsWhat flags of myriad tints float in the midst!What lightning-flashes glance from off their arms!How many be they? Count them well, my child.1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.4.Twenty, and thousands more!’Twere but lost time to count.Our sinewy arms unite, tear up the rocks,Swift from the mountain tops we hurl them downRight on their heads,And crush, and slay them all.5.What would they in our hills, these Northern men?Why come they here our quiet to disturb?God made the hills intending none should pass.Down fall the rolling rocks, the troops they crush!Streams the red blood! Quivers the mangled flesh!Oh! what a sea of blood! What shattered bones!6.Fly, to whom strength remaineth and a horse!Fly, Carloman, red cloak and raven plumes!Lies thy stout nephew, Roland, stark in death;For him his brilliant courage naught avails.And, now, ye Basques, leaving awhile these rocks,Down on the flying foe your arrows shower!7.They run! They run! Where now that wood of spears?Where the gay flags that flaunted in their midst?Rays from their bloodstained arms no longer flash!How many are they? Count them well, my child.20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13,12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.8.One! There is left not one. ’Tis o’er!Etcheco Jauna home with thy dog retire.Embrace thy wife and child,Thine arrows clean, and stow them with thine horn;And then, lie down and sleep thereon.At night yon mangled flesh shall eagles15eat,And to eternity those bones shall bleach.(This translation is due to the kindness of a friend.)The history of this song is very curious, and shows the little value of subjective criticism in any but the most competent hands. The MS. of it is alleged to have been found on the 5th of August, 1794, in a convent at Fuenterrabia, by La Tour d’Auvergne, the celebrated “premier grenadier” of the French Army. It was printed about the year 1835, by Monglave, and accepted as a genuine contemporary document by Fauriel, Chaho, Cenac-Moncaut, and many other French writers; by Lafuente, Amador de los Rios, and other Spanish authors; by Araquistain, and by the Editors of the “Revista Euskara” and of the “Cancionero Vasco” among the Basques. It is needless to say that all guide-books, tourist sketches,et hoc genus omne, have adopted it. It was inserted as genuine by Fr. Michel, in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, and in more recent years a translation appeared in another London magazine. In the “Basques et Navarrais” of M. Louis Lande, lately published, it is alluded to as genuine; and theSaturday Reviewof the 17th of August, 1878, quotes it as a corroboration of the”Chanson de Roland.”16There have been some, however, who have stoutly opposed these claims; among them M. Barry, of Toulouse, M. Gaston Paris, and M. J. F. Blade, which last writer, both in a separate pamphlet and in his “Études sur l’Origine des Basques” (Paris, 1859), has shown from internal grounds its want of authenticity. M. Alexandre Dihinx, a Basque, in a series of articles in theImpartial, of Bayonne, for 1873, which have since been reprinted by M. J. Vinson, inL’Avenir, of Bayonne, May of the present year, conclusively proved both the incorrectness and the modern character of its Basque. But all these authors seem either to have been unaware of, or to have unaccountably overlooked, the true history of the piece. When M. Fr. Michel published this, and another song called “Abarcaren Cantua,” in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, as specimens ofancientBasque poetry, a letter from M. Antoine d’Abbadie,Membre de l’Institut, appeared forthwith in the number for March, 1859, stating that the Abarca song had actually been among the unsuccessful pieces submitted for the prize in the poetical competition at Urrugne, of the previous August; and he adds:—“I am sorry that theAltabiscarraco cantua, mentioned in your same number, is acknowledged as a gem ofancientpopular poetry. Truth compels me to deny that it is universally admitted as such, for one of my Basque neighbours has often named the person who, about twenty four years ago, composed it in French, and the other person, who translated it intomodernbut indifferent Basque.17The latter idiom,on purely philological ground, stands peerless among the most ancient languages in Europe, and I have felt it my duty to disclaim unfounded pretensions of which it has no need.—I am, etc.,“Antoine d’Abbadie,“London, Jan. 31, 1859.”Correspond. de l’Institut de France.In the next number M. Fr. Michel writes, “henceforth I will believe that the songs calledAbarcaren CantuaandAltabiscarraco Cantuaare forgeries”; this testimony is decisive. It has often been repeated by M. d’Abbadie, with the additional assurance that he knows not only the house, but the very room in which the song was first composed. That the language is modern and indifferent Basque is very evident in the text given by M. Fr. Michel in “Le Pays Basque, Paris, 1857.” That above, taken from the “Cancionero Vasco” of the present year, is considerably corrected and improved. All attempts, and many efforts have been made, to force these irregular lines into any known form of Basque rhythm have hitherto signally failed. For the amusement of some of our readers we give below a list of the more evident foreign words in this and in the “Leloaren Cantua.” The relative antiquity will thus be seen at a glance:—L, Latin;S, Spanish;F, French;G, German words.Song of Lelo.RomakoRomaLArmacarmaLOctabianoOctavianusLMunducomundusLLecu (?)locusLTiberTiberLGrandoyagrandisLgrandiosoSSong of Altabiscar.Copetetaric (?)caputLArmadaarmadaSErrespuestarespuestaSDardacdardFColorezcocolorSBanderacbanderaSSimistacquimistaSchimisteFboth from ArabicTropactropaSArrocarocaSEscapaescaparSCarlomanoKarlomannGErrolanRolandFErregherex, regeLLuma18(?)plumaSFiteviteFCapacapaSCondatceacontarSMilacamilleLmilSDemborarentempus temporaLNorteconorteSPasatceapasarSContracontraLLantzazcolanzaSAkhaboacabarSBesarcatcerabesarSEternitateaneternidadSWith reference to the above list we may observe that the Basque never begins a word with r, but always prefixes a euphonic er, ar, ir; hence er-respuesta, ar-roca, Er-rolan, er-rege, hir-risko, risque, F. In later copies editors have altered “Romaco,” in the “Song of Lelo,” into “Er-romaco,” to give it more of a Basque look. Aren, or aen, eco-aco-co are case terminations; tcea-cea marks the verbal noun. Carlomann was never the name of Charlemagne, but of his brother and his uncle. Er-rolan is evidently from the French Roland; neither from the Hruotlandus of Einhardus, nor from the Spanish Roldan. Defenders of the authenticity of the piece allege that these words are only corruptions, introduced in the course of ages; but our readers can judge for themselves how far they enter into the very structure of the composition.The first book printed in Basque, the“Linguæ Vasconum Primitiæ, per Dominum Bernardum Echepare”(Bordeaux, 1545), is a collection of his poems, religious and amatory, the latter predominating. Echepare was the parish priest of the pretty little village of St. Michel, on the Béhérobie Nive, above St. Jean Pied de Port; and, if Nature alone could inspire a poet, he ought at least to have rivalled those of our own English Lakes. But, in truth, his verses are of scant poetical merit, and of little interest save as a philological curiosity.19They belong so distinctly to that irritating mediocrity which never can be excused in a poet. After Echepare the next author is Arnauld Oyhenart, of Mauléon, who published a collection of his youthful Basque poems in Paris, 1657. These have, if anything, less poetical value than Echepare’s; butOyhenart’s collection of proverbs and his “Notitia Utriusque Vasconiæ” will always make his name stand high among Basque writers. Except hymns and noëls (Christmas carols), of which many collections and editions have been published from 1630 downwards, and some of which are noteworthy on account of higher than mere poetical merit, the deep and evidently genuine spirit of piety they evince,20little else is preserved much older than the present century. One ballad indeed there is, “The Betrothed of Tardetz,” which may be somewhat older. No two versions of it are exactly alike, though the outline of the story is always the same. The Lord of the Castle of Tardetz wishes to give the elder of his two daughters in marriage to the King of Hungary, or of Portugal, as some have it. But the lady’s heart has been already won by Sala, the son of the miller of Tardetz, and she bitterly bewails being “sold like a heifer.” The bells which ring for her wedding will soon toll for her funeral. The romance in its present form is evidently incomplete, but apparently ended with the corpse of the bride being brought back to her father’s castle.Most of the Basque songs, except the drinking ones, are set, more or less, in a minor key. The majority of the love songs would have been described by our forefathers as “complaints.” One of the prettiest, both in words and music, is the fragment entitled “The Hermitage of St. Joseph”:—1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21The songs of the Agots, or Cagots, those Pariahs of the Pyrénées, who dwelt apart shunned and despised by all, are, as might be expected, uniformly sad. The misery of the labourer’s lot, and even of that of thecontrabandista, is morefrequently dwelt upon than the compensations to the poverty of the one, or the transient gleams of good fortune of the other. At least, such is the case in all those which are really songs of the people. In these there are not many delights of “life under the greenwood tree,” as in Robin Hood, or our factitious gipsies’ songs. The forest is an object of dread to the Basque poet, and it requires courage and all the powerful attraction of a loved one to induce him to traverse by night its gloomy shades; but then—Mortu, oihan illunaDeusere ez da neretzat.Deserts and forests darkThey are then nought to me.The following is an illustration of the Cagots’ or Agots’ songs. This piece, of which the author was the hero, was written about 1783, when he was eighteen years old.Cf.Fr. Michel, “Les Races Maudites de France et de l’Espagne,” vol. ii. p. 150, and “Le Pays Basque,” p. 270; and, for the music, Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque,” p. 172.221.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.238.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.There are, too, verses of grim and bitter humour, which tell better than the pen of the historian how wretched was formerly the lot of the peasant, even in this favoured corner of France. Famine is personified, and has a name given it, drawn in biting irony from that of the highest Saint of the Church Calendar, Petiri Sanz (S. Peter). He wanders round the country seeking where to settle permanently; at one place he is driven off by (the sale of) rosin, at anotherlittle maize, at another by cheese and cherries; but at last he fixes hisabode definitivelyat St. Pée (another form of Peter), on the Nivelle, where they have nothing at all to sell, and where he torments the inhabitants by forcing them to keep many a fast beyond those of ecclesiastical obligation. The same strain of gloomy humour appears in another form in a poem entitled “Mes Méditations,”24in which a young priest of Ciboure, slowly dying of consumption, traces in detail all the physical and mental agonies of his approaching dissolution. A much less grim example, however, is contained in the following, which we quote mainly because of its brevity. It may remind some of our readers of a longer but similar strain which used often to be sung at harvest-homes in the Midland Counties:—Dote Galdia.251.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.The Lost Dowry.1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.More literally:—1.My father has given me the dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with her little pigs,A brood hen with her chickens,A cord of onions with them.2.The wolf has eaten my sow,Mine, mine, mine;The fox my brood hen,The rats my cord of onions,Good-bye, my dowry.The lack of good poetry in Basque is certainly not due to want of encouragement. Moreover, the wish to produce it is there, but the power seems lacking. For over twenty years prizes have been annually given, first at Urrugne, and then at Sare, by M. Antoine d’Abbadie, of Abbadia. But among the multitude of competing poems few have been of any real value, and both in merit and in the number presented they seem to diminish annually. The best of them have been written by men of the professional class, whose taste has been formed on French, or Spanish, or classical, rather than on native models. The following is considered by native critics to be among the best, though several others are very little, if at all, inferior26:—Artzain Dohatsua.1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.The Happy Shepherd.1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.A pretty cradle song, “Lo! Lo! ene Maitea” (“Sleep! Sleep! my Darling”), by M. Larralde, a physician of St. Jean de Luz, won the prize at Urrugne in 1859. It is written to a tune composed by the Vicomte de Belzunce; the words have been printed in the “Lettres Labourdines,” par H. L. Fabre (Bayonne, 1869).1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!The following belongs to a more quaint and popular class of lullaby, or cradle songs; as it is so simple we do not give the Basque:—Little Peter.281.Ah, my little Peter,I am sleepy, and—Shall I go to bed?Go on spinning, and—Then, then, then,Go on spinning, and—Then, then, yes.2.Dear little Peter,I have spun, and—Shall I go to bed?Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, then,Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, yes.3.Dear little Peter,I have put it in skeins, and—Shall I go to bed?Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, then,Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, yes.4.Dear little Peter,I have wound it off, and—Shall I go to bed?Bleach it, and—Then, then, then,Bleach it, and—Then, then, yes.5.Dear little Peter,I have bleached it, and—Shall I go to bed?Weave it, and—Then, then, then,Weave it, and—Then, then, yes.6.Dear little Peter,I have woven it, and—Shall I go to bed?Cut it, and—Then, then, then,Cut it, and—Then, then, yes.7.Dear little Peter,I have cut it, and—Shall I go to bed?Sew it, and—Then, then, then,Sew it, and—Then, then, yes.8.Oh! my little Peter,I have sewn it, and—Shall I go to bed?It is daylight! and—Then, then, then,It is daylight! and—Then, then, yes!The best living Basque poets are—on the French side, Captain Elisamboure, of Hendaye; and Iparraguirre, of San Sebastian, among the Spanish Basques. Iparraguirre is now very old. He is the author of the song “Guernicaco Arbola” (“The Tree of Guernica,” in Biscay), an oak under which the Lords of Biscay swore fidelity to the Fueros. This has become almost the national song of the Basques.29A few words on two other classes of songs, the drinking and themacaronic, must conclude our remarks. The most spirited drinking song is the following.30It must be remembered, in excuse, that the shepherds live a very hard life on the mountains the greater part of the year, and taste little wine there.Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!It is not at all uncommon in a country where, within the space of some twenty miles, the traveller may hear at least four languages—French, Gascoun, Basque, and Spanish—to find two or more of these mixed in the same poem, and sometimes with a little Latin as well. This occurs frequently in the noëls, where the angel speaks in French or Latin, and the shepherds reply in Gascoun or Basque; also sometimes in the love songs, where the French or Spanish lover will try to soften the heart of a Basque maiden by compliments in French or Spanish, while shegreatesttour de forceof this kind we know, both as to language and rhyme, is the song given in Fr. Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” p. 429. We quote the first verse only; but the song continues with twenty-eight successive Basque rhymes in “in,” and the last seven in “en.”Latin.Sed libera nos a malo. Sit nomen Domini.Deliver us from evil. God’s holy Name be praised;Spanish.Vamos á cantar un canto para diverti.Let’s sing a song, my friends, and a joyous clamour raise;Basque.Jan dugunaz gueroz chahalki hounetiFor we of rare good meat have eaten to our fill,Basque.Eta edan ardoa Juranzouneti.And the good wine of JurançonFrench.Chantons, chantons, mes chers amis, je suis content pardi!have drunken at our will. Then sing, friends, sing, i’faith, I’m right well pleased!Gascoun.Trinquam d’aquest boun bi,Let’s hear the glasses ring,Basque.Eta dezagun canta cantore berri.And our new song, my friends, let’s all together sing.Almost every one of these Basque songs, like all true lyrics, has been adapted to some tune, either older than the words, or composed specially by the author. The music is often superior to the words. In theNineteenth Centuryfor August, 1878, Grant-Duff speaks of some of the Basque airs sung by the Béarnais tenor, Pascal Lamazou, as “extraordinarily beautiful.”31Lamazou died at Pau in May, 1878. Hisrépertoireconsisted of fifty Pyrenean songs, of which thirty-four are Béarnais, fourteen Basque, and twoare from the “Pyrénées Orientales.”32One of the Basque airs “Artzaina,” has somehow got attached to the popular American hymn, “I want to be an angel.” Another, and larger collection, including more correct renderings of some of Lamazou’s fourteen, is that of Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” (Bayonne, 1870). But, long before this, a collection of Basque Songs, Zorzicos, and dance music was published in San Sebastian, by J. D. Iztueta, in 1824 and 1826. Excellent reviews of these two works, with translations of some of the words, appeared in theForeign Review and Continental Miscellany, vol. ii., pp. 338, 1828; and in vol. iv., p. 198. Some specimens of music are to be found at the end of Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” in the “Cancionero Vasco”—now in course of publication, and so often referred to—and in other local publications, besides those in private hands. Basquophiles love to narrate that Rossini passed a summer in the Basque village of Cambo, and believe that they can recognise the influence of Basque airs in some of his subsequent operas. However this may be, let no one judge of Basque music by the noëls usually howled in the streets at Christmas and the New Year, or by the doleful productions of the last Carlist War. It would be equally fair to judge of English music by the serenades of the waits at Christmas. We refer those who wish to investigate further the subject of this chapter to the excellent work, “Le Pays Basque,” par M. Fr. Michel (Paris and London, 1857), for the French, to the “Cancionero Vasco,” by Don José Manterola, now in course of publication at San Sebastian, for the Spanish, Basque; and to M. Sallaberry’s “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” for the music.

If we except the Pastorales, the whole of Basque poetry may be described as lyrical; either secular, as songs, or religious, as hymns and noëls. There is no epic in Basque,7and scarcely any narrative ballads; even those chiefly are of uncertain date. A few sonnets exist, but they are almost exclusively translations or imitations of French, Spanish, or classical poems, and cannot be considered as genuine productions of the Basque muse. Some of the religious poetry may be described as didactic, but this again is mostly paraphrase or translation. All that is really native is lyrical. But even in song the Basques show no remarkable poetical merit. The extreme facility with which the language lends itself to rhyming desinence has a most injurious effect upon versification. There are not verses only, but whole poems, in which each line terminates with the same desinence. Instead of striving after that perfection of form which the change of a single word or even letter would affect injuriously, the Basques are too often satisfied with this mere rhyme. Their compositions, too, if published at all, are usually printed only on single sheets of paper, easily dispersed and soon lost. Hence the preservation of Basque poetry is entrusted mainly to the memory, and thus it happens that one scarcely meets with two copies of the same song exactly alike. If the memory fails, the missing words and rhymes are so easily supplied by others that it is not worth theeffort torecallthe precise expression used. And so it comes to pass that, while versification is very common among the Basques, high-class poetry is extremely rare. They have no song writers to compare with Burns or with Béranger. And if it be alleged that poets like these are rare, even among people far more numerous and more cultivated, the Basques still fall short, when measured by a much lower standard. They have no poets to rival the Gascon, Jasmin, or to compare with the Provençal or the Catalan singers at the other end of the Pyrenean chain. There is no modern Basque song which can be placed by the side of “Le Demiselle” and others of the Biarritz poet, Justin Larrebat; and among the older poets neither Dechepare nor Oyhenart is equal to the Béarnais, Despourrins. While the Jacobite songs of Scotland are among the finest productions of her lyric muse, the Carlist songs, on the contrary, though telling of an equally brave and romantic struggle, are one and all below mediocrity. But, while fully admitting this, there is yet much that is pleasing in Basque poetry. If it has no great merits, it is still free from any very gross defects. It is always true and manly, and completely free from affectation. It is seldom forced, and the singer sings just because it pleases him to do so, not to satisfy a craving vanity or to strain after the name and fame of a poet. The moral tone is almost always good. If at times, as in the drinking songs, and in some few of the amatory, the expression is free and outspoken, vice is never glossed over or covered with a false sentimentality. The Basque is never mawkish or equivocal—with him right is right, and wrong is wrong, and Basque poetry leaves no unpleasant after-taste behind.8

The only peculiarity, in a poetical sense, is the extreme fondness for, and frequent employment of, allegory. In the love songs the fair one is constantly addressed under some allegorical disguise. It is a star the lover admires, or it is the nightingale who bewails his sad lot. The loved one is a flower, or a heifer, a dove or a quail, a pomegranate or an apple, figures common to the poets of other countries; but the Basques, even the rudest of them, never confuse these metaphors, as more famous poets sometimes do—the allegory is ever consistently maintained throughout. Even in prose they are accustomed to this use of allegory, and catch up the slightest allusion to it; but to others it often renders their poetry obscure, and very difficult of successful translation. The stranger is in doubt whether a given poem is really meant only for a description of the habits of the nightingale, or whether the bird is a pseudonym for the poet or the poet’s mistress. Curiously enough, sometimes educated Basques seem to have almost as much difficulty in seizing this allegory as have foreigners. Thus, in a work now in course of publication,9one of the most famous of these allegorical complaints is actually taken for a poetical description of the nightingale itself.

The historical songs, like all other historical remains among the Basques, are few and doubtful. There are two songs, however, for which are claimed a greater historical importance and a higher antiquity than any others can pretend to. These are the so-called “Leloaren Cantua” and the “Altabiskarco Cantua.” Both these are reputed by some writers to be almost contemporaneous with the events which they relate. The first is said to be founded on the wars of the Roman Emperor Augustus with the Cantabri; the second is an account of the defeat of Charlemagne’s rearguardat Roncesvalles,A.D.778. The former may be some three hundred years old, but the latter is certainly a production of the nineteenth century, though none the less it is the most spirited offspring of the Basque muse. We will give the text and translation of each, and then justify our conclusions.

Leloaren Cantua.1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.15.(Torn.)16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.Song of Lelo.1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).13.(It is) impossible more.14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.

Leloaren Cantua.1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.15.(Torn.)16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.

Leloaren Cantua.1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.15.(Torn.)16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.

Leloaren Cantua.1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.15.(Torn.)16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.

1.lelo. yl lelo;lelo. yl lelo;leloa çarat10il leloa.

lelo. yl lelo;

lelo. yl lelo;

leloa çarat10

il leloa.

2.Romaco armacaleguin etaVizcayac daroaZanzoa.

Romaco armac

aleguin eta

Vizcayac daroa

Zanzoa.

3.Octabianomunduco jaunale coby di10Vizcayocoa.

Octabiano

munduco jauna

le coby di10

Vizcayocoa.

4.Ichasotatieta leorresy mini deuscomolsoa.

Ichasotati

eta leorres

y mini deusco

molsoa.

5.leor celayacbereac diramenditan tayacleusoac.

leor celayac

bereac dira

menditan tayac

leusoac.

6.lecu yronyangagozanyannocbera sendodaugogoa.

lecu yronyan

gagozanyan

nocbera sendo

daugogoa.

7.bildurric guichiarmabardinasoramayasuguexoa.

bildurric guichi

armabardinas

oramayasu

guexoa.

8.Soyacgogorracbadyri tuysnarrubiloxasurboa.

Soyacgogorrac

badyri tuys

narrubiloxa

surboa.

9.bost urtecoegun gabeangueldi bagaricpochoa.

bost urteco

egun gabean

gueldi bagaric

pochoa.

10.gurecobataylbadaguyanbost amarrengaldoa.

gurecobata

ylbadaguyan

bost amarren

galdoa.

11.aecanistague guichitayaasqugudugulalboa.

aecanista

gue guichitaya

asqugudugu

lalboa.

12.gueurelurreanta aen errianbiroch ainbatenzamoa.

gueurelurrean

ta aen errian

biroch ainbaten

zamoa.

13.Ecin gueyago(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)

Ecin gueyago

(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)

14.tiber lecuagueldico zabalUchin tamayograndoya.

tiber lecua

gueldico zabal

Uchin tamayo

grandoya.

15.(Torn.)

(Torn.)

16.andiaristacgueisto syndoasbeticonayasnarraca.

andiaristac

gueisto syndoas

beticonayas

narraca.

Song of Lelo.1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).13.(It is) impossible more.14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.

Song of Lelo.1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).13.(It is) impossible more.14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.

Song of Lelo.1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).13.(It is) impossible more.14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.

1.Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;Lelo, Zara (?)10Killed Lelo.

Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;

Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;

Lelo, Zara (?)10

Killed Lelo.

2.The arms of Romedo all they can, andBiscay raisesThe song of war.

The arms of Rome

do all they can, and

Biscay raises

The song of war.

3.Octavianus,Of the world lord,Lecobidi (?)10of Biscay.

Octavianus,

Of the world lord,

Lecobidi (?)10

of Biscay.

4.By seaand by landhe has placed usthe siege.

By sea

and by land

he has placed us

the siege.

5.The dry plainsare theirs;the high mountains,the caverns (are ours).

The dry plains

are theirs;

the high mountains,

the caverns (are ours).

6.In favourable groundwhen we are,each one firmhas heart (?)

In favourable ground

when we are,

each one firm

has heart (?)

7.Little fear(with) equal arms,(but) our kneading-trough(goes) ill.

Little fear

(with) equal arms,

(but) our kneading-trough

(goes) ill.

8.Hard corseletswear they;Bare body;(more) agility (?)

Hard corselets

wear they;

Bare body;

(more) agility (?)

9.For five years,by day, by night,without ceasing,(lasts) the siege(?)

For five years,

by day, by night,

without ceasing,

(lasts) the siege(?)

10.One of ourswhen he is dead,five tensthey lose (?)

One of ours

when he is dead,

five tens

they lose (?)

11.They many andwe few (?)at last we have madethe peace.

They many and

we few (?)

at last we have made

the peace.

12.In our landand in his villageare tied in the same waythe loads (of wood).

In our land

and in his village

are tied in the same way

the loads (of wood).

13.(It is) impossible more.

(It is) impossible more.

14.Tiber the placeremains broad (?)Uchin Tamayo(?)very large.

Tiber the place

remains broad (?)

Uchin Tamayo(?)

very large.

16.The great oaksyieldto the constant strokes(of) the woodpecker.

The great oaks

yield

to the constant strokes

(of) the woodpecker.

The history of the above song is as follows: At the close of the sixteenth century a notary of Zornoza, J. Iñiguez de Ibargüen, was commissioned by the Junta of Biscay to search the principal libraries of Spain for documents relating to the Basques. In the archives of Simancas he discovered an ancient MS. on parchment, containing verses in Basque, some almost, others wholly obliterated. Of these he copied what he could, and inserted them in p. 71 of his “Cronica general de España y sumaria de Vizcaya,” a work which still exists in manuscript in the town of Marquina. From this history of Ibargüen the song was first reproduced by the celebrated Wilhelm von Humboldt, and published by him in 1817 in a supplement to Vater’s “Mithridates.” The text above given is taken from that of the “Cancionero Vasco,” Series 2, iii., pp. 18, 20, and claims to be a new and literal copy from the MS. “Cronica” of Ibargüen. From the date of its publication by Humboldt, this piece has been the subject of much discussion. That it is one of the oldest fragments of Basque poetry hardly admits of doubt. But, when asked to believe that it is contemporary with Augustus, we must hesitate. The question arises: Did Ibargüen copy the almost defaced original exactly as it was, or did he suffer his declared predilections unconsciously to influence his reading of it?11Many of the words are still very obscure, and the translation of them is almost guess work. The first verse has little or no apparent connection with the rest of the poem, and has given rise to the most fanciful interpretations. Lelo has been imagined by some to be the name of a Basque hero; Zara, or Zarat, who kills him, the name of another; and the two reproduce the story of Agamemnon and Ægisthus. Others, with more probability, take Lelo, as is certainly the case in other poems, for a mere refrain (the everlasting Lelo, as a Basque proverb has it) used by the singer merely to give the key to the tune or rhythm to which he modulates the rest. Chaho, with his usual audacity, would translate it “glory,” and render it thus:—

Finished is the glory! dead is the glory,Our glory!Old age has killed the glory,Our glory!

Finished is the glory! dead is the glory,

Our glory!

Old age has killed the glory,

Our glory!

But it has been very plausibly suggested12that the verse bears a suspicious likeness to a vague reminiscence of the Moslem cry “Lâ Êlah Ulâ Allah!” &c.; and if so, this, in the north of Spain, would at one bound place the poem some eight centuries at least after the time of Augustus. The proper names have a too correct look. Octabiano, Roma, and Tiber are far too much like the Latin; for if Greeks and Romans complained, as do Strabo and Mela, of the difficulty of transcribing Basque or Iberian names into their own language, the Basques might possibly find a somewhat corresponding difficulty in transcribing Greek and Latin names into Basque. Moreover, in a later verse appears “Uchin,” asobriquetfor “Augustino,” as a baptismal name in use among the Spanish Basques to this day. What the poem really refers to we dare not assert. We present the “Leloaren Cantua” to our readers simply as one of the oldest curiosities of Basqueverse, without pledging ourselves to any particular date or interpretation thereof.

Fortunately, we shall be able to speak with much more decision of the “Altabiskarco Cantua,” of which the following is the latest text:—

Altabiskarco Cantua.1.Oyhu bat aditua izan daEscualdunen mendien artetic,Eta etcheco jaunac, bere athearen aitcinean chuticIdeki tu beharriac, eta erran du: “Nor da hor? Cer nahi dautet?”Eta chacurra, bere nausiaren oinetan lo zagüena,Altchatu da, eta karrasiz Altabiscarren inguruac bethe ditu.2.Ibañetaren lepoan harabotz bat aghertcen da,Urbiltcen da, arrokac ezker eta ezcuin jotcen dituelaric;Hori da urrundic heldu den armada baten burrumba.Mendien copetetaric guriec errespuesta eman diote;Beren tuten soinua adiaraci dute,Eta etcheco jaunac bere dardac zorrozten tu.3.Heldu dira! heldu dira! cer lantzazco sasia!Nola cer nahi colorezco banderac heien erdian aghertcen direnCer simistac atheratcen diren heien armetaric!Cembat dira? Haurra condatzic onghi!Bat, biga, hirur, laur, bortz, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar, hameca, hamabi,Hamahirur, hamalaur, hamabortz, hamasei, hamazazpi, hemezortzi, hemeretzi, hogoi.4.Hogoi eta milaca oraino!Heien condatcea demboraren galtcea liteque.Urbilditzagun gure beso zailac, errotic athera ditzagun arroca horiec,Botha ditzagun mendiaren patarra beheraHein buruen gaineraino;Leher ditzagun, herioz jo ditzagun.5.Cer nahi zuten gure mendietaric Norteco guizon horiec?Certaco jin dira gure bakearen nahastera?Jaungoicoac mendiac eguin dituenean nahi izan du hec guizonec ez pasatcea.Bainan arrokac biribilcolica erortcen dira, tropac lehertcen dituzte.Odola churrutan badoa, haraghi puscac dardaran daude.Oh! cembat hezur carrascatuac! cer odolezco itsasoa!6.Escapa! escapa! indar eta zaldi dituzeneac!Escapa hadi, Carlomano erreghe, hire luma beltzekin eta hire capa gorriarekin;Hire iloba maitea, Errolan zangarra, hantchet hila dago;Bere zangartasuna beretaco ez tu izan.Eta orai, Escualdunac, utz ditzagun arroca horiec,Jauts ghiten fite, igor ditzagun gure dardac escapatcen direnen contra.7.Badoazi! badoazi! non da bada lantzazco sasi hura?Non dira heien erdian agheri ciren cer nahi colorezco bandera hec?Ez da gheiago simiztarik atheratcen heien arma odolez bethetaric.Cembat dira? Haurra, condatzac onghi.Hogoi, hemeretzi, hemezortzi, hamazazpi, hamasei, hamabortz, hamalaur, hamairur,Hamabi, hameca, hamar, bederatzi, zortzi, zazpi, sei, bortz, laur, hirur biga, bat.8.Bat! ez da bihiric aghertcen gheiago. Akhabo da!Etcheco jauna, joaiten ahal zira zure chacurrarekin,Zure emaztearen eta zure haurren besarcatcera,Zure darden garbitcera eta alchatcera zure tutekin,Eta ghero heien gainean etzatera eta lo gitera.Gabaz, arranoac joainen dira haraghi pusca lehertu horien jatera,Eta hezur horiec oro churituco dira eternitatean.

1.Oyhu bat aditua izan daEscualdunen mendien artetic,Eta etcheco jaunac, bere athearen aitcinean chuticIdeki tu beharriac, eta erran du: “Nor da hor? Cer nahi dautet?”Eta chacurra, bere nausiaren oinetan lo zagüena,Altchatu da, eta karrasiz Altabiscarren inguruac bethe ditu.

Oyhu bat aditua izan da

Escualdunen mendien artetic,

Eta etcheco jaunac, bere athearen aitcinean chutic

Ideki tu beharriac, eta erran du: “Nor da hor? Cer nahi dautet?”

Eta chacurra, bere nausiaren oinetan lo zagüena,

Altchatu da, eta karrasiz Altabiscarren inguruac bethe ditu.

2.Ibañetaren lepoan harabotz bat aghertcen da,Urbiltcen da, arrokac ezker eta ezcuin jotcen dituelaric;Hori da urrundic heldu den armada baten burrumba.Mendien copetetaric guriec errespuesta eman diote;Beren tuten soinua adiaraci dute,Eta etcheco jaunac bere dardac zorrozten tu.

Ibañetaren lepoan harabotz bat aghertcen da,

Urbiltcen da, arrokac ezker eta ezcuin jotcen dituelaric;

Hori da urrundic heldu den armada baten burrumba.

Mendien copetetaric guriec errespuesta eman diote;

Beren tuten soinua adiaraci dute,

Eta etcheco jaunac bere dardac zorrozten tu.

3.Heldu dira! heldu dira! cer lantzazco sasia!Nola cer nahi colorezco banderac heien erdian aghertcen direnCer simistac atheratcen diren heien armetaric!Cembat dira? Haurra condatzic onghi!Bat, biga, hirur, laur, bortz, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar, hameca, hamabi,Hamahirur, hamalaur, hamabortz, hamasei, hamazazpi, hemezortzi, hemeretzi, hogoi.

Heldu dira! heldu dira! cer lantzazco sasia!

Nola cer nahi colorezco banderac heien erdian aghertcen diren

Cer simistac atheratcen diren heien armetaric!

Cembat dira? Haurra condatzic onghi!

Bat, biga, hirur, laur, bortz, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar, hameca, hamabi,

Hamahirur, hamalaur, hamabortz, hamasei, hamazazpi, hemezortzi, hemeretzi, hogoi.

4.Hogoi eta milaca oraino!Heien condatcea demboraren galtcea liteque.Urbilditzagun gure beso zailac, errotic athera ditzagun arroca horiec,Botha ditzagun mendiaren patarra beheraHein buruen gaineraino;Leher ditzagun, herioz jo ditzagun.

Hogoi eta milaca oraino!

Heien condatcea demboraren galtcea liteque.

Urbilditzagun gure beso zailac, errotic athera ditzagun arroca horiec,

Botha ditzagun mendiaren patarra behera

Hein buruen gaineraino;

Leher ditzagun, herioz jo ditzagun.

5.Cer nahi zuten gure mendietaric Norteco guizon horiec?Certaco jin dira gure bakearen nahastera?Jaungoicoac mendiac eguin dituenean nahi izan du hec guizonec ez pasatcea.Bainan arrokac biribilcolica erortcen dira, tropac lehertcen dituzte.Odola churrutan badoa, haraghi puscac dardaran daude.Oh! cembat hezur carrascatuac! cer odolezco itsasoa!

Cer nahi zuten gure mendietaric Norteco guizon horiec?

Certaco jin dira gure bakearen nahastera?

Jaungoicoac mendiac eguin dituenean nahi izan du hec guizonec ez pasatcea.

Bainan arrokac biribilcolica erortcen dira, tropac lehertcen dituzte.

Odola churrutan badoa, haraghi puscac dardaran daude.

Oh! cembat hezur carrascatuac! cer odolezco itsasoa!

6.Escapa! escapa! indar eta zaldi dituzeneac!Escapa hadi, Carlomano erreghe, hire luma beltzekin eta hire capa gorriarekin;Hire iloba maitea, Errolan zangarra, hantchet hila dago;Bere zangartasuna beretaco ez tu izan.Eta orai, Escualdunac, utz ditzagun arroca horiec,Jauts ghiten fite, igor ditzagun gure dardac escapatcen direnen contra.

Escapa! escapa! indar eta zaldi dituzeneac!

Escapa hadi, Carlomano erreghe, hire luma beltzekin eta hire capa gorriarekin;

Hire iloba maitea, Errolan zangarra, hantchet hila dago;

Bere zangartasuna beretaco ez tu izan.

Eta orai, Escualdunac, utz ditzagun arroca horiec,

Jauts ghiten fite, igor ditzagun gure dardac escapatcen direnen contra.

7.Badoazi! badoazi! non da bada lantzazco sasi hura?Non dira heien erdian agheri ciren cer nahi colorezco bandera hec?Ez da gheiago simiztarik atheratcen heien arma odolez bethetaric.Cembat dira? Haurra, condatzac onghi.Hogoi, hemeretzi, hemezortzi, hamazazpi, hamasei, hamabortz, hamalaur, hamairur,Hamabi, hameca, hamar, bederatzi, zortzi, zazpi, sei, bortz, laur, hirur biga, bat.

Badoazi! badoazi! non da bada lantzazco sasi hura?

Non dira heien erdian agheri ciren cer nahi colorezco bandera hec?

Ez da gheiago simiztarik atheratcen heien arma odolez bethetaric.

Cembat dira? Haurra, condatzac onghi.

Hogoi, hemeretzi, hemezortzi, hamazazpi, hamasei, hamabortz, hamalaur, hamairur,

Hamabi, hameca, hamar, bederatzi, zortzi, zazpi, sei, bortz, laur, hirur biga, bat.

8.Bat! ez da bihiric aghertcen gheiago. Akhabo da!Etcheco jauna, joaiten ahal zira zure chacurrarekin,Zure emaztearen eta zure haurren besarcatcera,Zure darden garbitcera eta alchatcera zure tutekin,Eta ghero heien gainean etzatera eta lo gitera.Gabaz, arranoac joainen dira haraghi pusca lehertu horien jatera,Eta hezur horiec oro churituco dira eternitatean.

Bat! ez da bihiric aghertcen gheiago. Akhabo da!

Etcheco jauna, joaiten ahal zira zure chacurrarekin,

Zure emaztearen eta zure haurren besarcatcera,

Zure darden garbitcera eta alchatcera zure tutekin,

Eta ghero heien gainean etzatera eta lo gitera.

Gabaz, arranoac joainen dira haraghi pusca lehertu horien jatera,

Eta hezur horiec oro churituco dira eternitatean.

Song of Altabiscar.1.A cry is heardFrom the Basque mountain’s midst.Etcheco Jauna,13at his door erect,Listens, and cries, “What want they? Who goes there?”At his lord’s feet the dog that sleeping layStarts up, his bark fills Altabiscar14round.2.Through Ibañeta’s14pass the noise resounds,Striking the rocks on right and left it comes;’Tis the dull murmur of a host from far,From off the mountain heights our men reply,Sounding aloud the signal of their horns;Etcheco Jauna whets his arrows then.3.They come! They come! See, what a wood of spearsWhat flags of myriad tints float in the midst!What lightning-flashes glance from off their arms!How many be they? Count them well, my child.1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.4.Twenty, and thousands more!’Twere but lost time to count.Our sinewy arms unite, tear up the rocks,Swift from the mountain tops we hurl them downRight on their heads,And crush, and slay them all.5.What would they in our hills, these Northern men?Why come they here our quiet to disturb?God made the hills intending none should pass.Down fall the rolling rocks, the troops they crush!Streams the red blood! Quivers the mangled flesh!Oh! what a sea of blood! What shattered bones!6.Fly, to whom strength remaineth and a horse!Fly, Carloman, red cloak and raven plumes!Lies thy stout nephew, Roland, stark in death;For him his brilliant courage naught avails.And, now, ye Basques, leaving awhile these rocks,Down on the flying foe your arrows shower!7.They run! They run! Where now that wood of spears?Where the gay flags that flaunted in their midst?Rays from their bloodstained arms no longer flash!How many are they? Count them well, my child.20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13,12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.8.One! There is left not one. ’Tis o’er!Etcheco Jauna home with thy dog retire.Embrace thy wife and child,Thine arrows clean, and stow them with thine horn;And then, lie down and sleep thereon.At night yon mangled flesh shall eagles15eat,And to eternity those bones shall bleach.

1.A cry is heardFrom the Basque mountain’s midst.Etcheco Jauna,13at his door erect,Listens, and cries, “What want they? Who goes there?”At his lord’s feet the dog that sleeping layStarts up, his bark fills Altabiscar14round.

A cry is heard

From the Basque mountain’s midst.

Etcheco Jauna,13at his door erect,

Listens, and cries, “What want they? Who goes there?”

At his lord’s feet the dog that sleeping lay

Starts up, his bark fills Altabiscar14round.

2.Through Ibañeta’s14pass the noise resounds,Striking the rocks on right and left it comes;’Tis the dull murmur of a host from far,From off the mountain heights our men reply,Sounding aloud the signal of their horns;Etcheco Jauna whets his arrows then.

Through Ibañeta’s14pass the noise resounds,

Striking the rocks on right and left it comes;

’Tis the dull murmur of a host from far,

From off the mountain heights our men reply,

Sounding aloud the signal of their horns;

Etcheco Jauna whets his arrows then.

3.They come! They come! See, what a wood of spearsWhat flags of myriad tints float in the midst!What lightning-flashes glance from off their arms!How many be they? Count them well, my child.1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.

They come! They come! See, what a wood of spears

What flags of myriad tints float in the midst!

What lightning-flashes glance from off their arms!

How many be they? Count them well, my child.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,

13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.

4.Twenty, and thousands more!’Twere but lost time to count.Our sinewy arms unite, tear up the rocks,Swift from the mountain tops we hurl them downRight on their heads,And crush, and slay them all.

Twenty, and thousands more!

’Twere but lost time to count.

Our sinewy arms unite, tear up the rocks,

Swift from the mountain tops we hurl them down

Right on their heads,

And crush, and slay them all.

5.What would they in our hills, these Northern men?Why come they here our quiet to disturb?God made the hills intending none should pass.Down fall the rolling rocks, the troops they crush!Streams the red blood! Quivers the mangled flesh!Oh! what a sea of blood! What shattered bones!

What would they in our hills, these Northern men?

Why come they here our quiet to disturb?

God made the hills intending none should pass.

Down fall the rolling rocks, the troops they crush!

Streams the red blood! Quivers the mangled flesh!

Oh! what a sea of blood! What shattered bones!

6.Fly, to whom strength remaineth and a horse!Fly, Carloman, red cloak and raven plumes!Lies thy stout nephew, Roland, stark in death;For him his brilliant courage naught avails.And, now, ye Basques, leaving awhile these rocks,Down on the flying foe your arrows shower!

Fly, to whom strength remaineth and a horse!

Fly, Carloman, red cloak and raven plumes!

Lies thy stout nephew, Roland, stark in death;

For him his brilliant courage naught avails.

And, now, ye Basques, leaving awhile these rocks,

Down on the flying foe your arrows shower!

7.They run! They run! Where now that wood of spears?Where the gay flags that flaunted in their midst?Rays from their bloodstained arms no longer flash!How many are they? Count them well, my child.20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13,12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

They run! They run! Where now that wood of spears?

Where the gay flags that flaunted in their midst?

Rays from their bloodstained arms no longer flash!

How many are they? Count them well, my child.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13,

12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

8.One! There is left not one. ’Tis o’er!Etcheco Jauna home with thy dog retire.Embrace thy wife and child,Thine arrows clean, and stow them with thine horn;And then, lie down and sleep thereon.At night yon mangled flesh shall eagles15eat,And to eternity those bones shall bleach.

One! There is left not one. ’Tis o’er!

Etcheco Jauna home with thy dog retire.

Embrace thy wife and child,

Thine arrows clean, and stow them with thine horn;

And then, lie down and sleep thereon.

At night yon mangled flesh shall eagles15eat,

And to eternity those bones shall bleach.

(This translation is due to the kindness of a friend.)

The history of this song is very curious, and shows the little value of subjective criticism in any but the most competent hands. The MS. of it is alleged to have been found on the 5th of August, 1794, in a convent at Fuenterrabia, by La Tour d’Auvergne, the celebrated “premier grenadier” of the French Army. It was printed about the year 1835, by Monglave, and accepted as a genuine contemporary document by Fauriel, Chaho, Cenac-Moncaut, and many other French writers; by Lafuente, Amador de los Rios, and other Spanish authors; by Araquistain, and by the Editors of the “Revista Euskara” and of the “Cancionero Vasco” among the Basques. It is needless to say that all guide-books, tourist sketches,et hoc genus omne, have adopted it. It was inserted as genuine by Fr. Michel, in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, and in more recent years a translation appeared in another London magazine. In the “Basques et Navarrais” of M. Louis Lande, lately published, it is alluded to as genuine; and theSaturday Reviewof the 17th of August, 1878, quotes it as a corroboration of the”Chanson de Roland.”16There have been some, however, who have stoutly opposed these claims; among them M. Barry, of Toulouse, M. Gaston Paris, and M. J. F. Blade, which last writer, both in a separate pamphlet and in his “Études sur l’Origine des Basques” (Paris, 1859), has shown from internal grounds its want of authenticity. M. Alexandre Dihinx, a Basque, in a series of articles in theImpartial, of Bayonne, for 1873, which have since been reprinted by M. J. Vinson, inL’Avenir, of Bayonne, May of the present year, conclusively proved both the incorrectness and the modern character of its Basque. But all these authors seem either to have been unaware of, or to have unaccountably overlooked, the true history of the piece. When M. Fr. Michel published this, and another song called “Abarcaren Cantua,” in theGentleman’s Magazine, in 1858, as specimens ofancientBasque poetry, a letter from M. Antoine d’Abbadie,Membre de l’Institut, appeared forthwith in the number for March, 1859, stating that the Abarca song had actually been among the unsuccessful pieces submitted for the prize in the poetical competition at Urrugne, of the previous August; and he adds:—

“I am sorry that theAltabiscarraco cantua, mentioned in your same number, is acknowledged as a gem ofancientpopular poetry. Truth compels me to deny that it is universally admitted as such, for one of my Basque neighbours has often named the person who, about twenty four years ago, composed it in French, and the other person, who translated it intomodernbut indifferent Basque.17The latter idiom,on purely philological ground, stands peerless among the most ancient languages in Europe, and I have felt it my duty to disclaim unfounded pretensions of which it has no need.—I am, etc.,“Antoine d’Abbadie,“London, Jan. 31, 1859.”Correspond. de l’Institut de France.

“I am sorry that theAltabiscarraco cantua, mentioned in your same number, is acknowledged as a gem ofancientpopular poetry. Truth compels me to deny that it is universally admitted as such, for one of my Basque neighbours has often named the person who, about twenty four years ago, composed it in French, and the other person, who translated it intomodernbut indifferent Basque.17The latter idiom,on purely philological ground, stands peerless among the most ancient languages in Europe, and I have felt it my duty to disclaim unfounded pretensions of which it has no need.—I am, etc.,

“Antoine d’Abbadie,

“London, Jan. 31, 1859.”Correspond. de l’Institut de France.

In the next number M. Fr. Michel writes, “henceforth I will believe that the songs calledAbarcaren CantuaandAltabiscarraco Cantuaare forgeries”; this testimony is decisive. It has often been repeated by M. d’Abbadie, with the additional assurance that he knows not only the house, but the very room in which the song was first composed. That the language is modern and indifferent Basque is very evident in the text given by M. Fr. Michel in “Le Pays Basque, Paris, 1857.” That above, taken from the “Cancionero Vasco” of the present year, is considerably corrected and improved. All attempts, and many efforts have been made, to force these irregular lines into any known form of Basque rhythm have hitherto signally failed. For the amusement of some of our readers we give below a list of the more evident foreign words in this and in the “Leloaren Cantua.” The relative antiquity will thus be seen at a glance:—

L, Latin;S, Spanish;F, French;G, German words.

Song of Lelo.RomakoRomaLArmacarmaLOctabianoOctavianusLMunducomundusLLecu (?)locusLTiberTiberLGrandoyagrandisLgrandiosoS

Song of Altabiscar.Copetetaric (?)caputLArmadaarmadaSErrespuestarespuestaSDardacdardFColorezcocolorSBanderacbanderaSSimistacquimistaSchimisteFboth from ArabicTropactropaSArrocarocaSEscapaescaparSCarlomanoKarlomannGErrolanRolandFErregherex, regeLLuma18(?)plumaSFiteviteFCapacapaSCondatceacontarSMilacamilleLmilSDemborarentempus temporaLNorteconorteSPasatceapasarSContracontraLLantzazcolanzaSAkhaboacabarSBesarcatcerabesarSEternitateaneternidadS

With reference to the above list we may observe that the Basque never begins a word with r, but always prefixes a euphonic er, ar, ir; hence er-respuesta, ar-roca, Er-rolan, er-rege, hir-risko, risque, F. In later copies editors have altered “Romaco,” in the “Song of Lelo,” into “Er-romaco,” to give it more of a Basque look. Aren, or aen, eco-aco-co are case terminations; tcea-cea marks the verbal noun. Carlomann was never the name of Charlemagne, but of his brother and his uncle. Er-rolan is evidently from the French Roland; neither from the Hruotlandus of Einhardus, nor from the Spanish Roldan. Defenders of the authenticity of the piece allege that these words are only corruptions, introduced in the course of ages; but our readers can judge for themselves how far they enter into the very structure of the composition.

The first book printed in Basque, the“Linguæ Vasconum Primitiæ, per Dominum Bernardum Echepare”(Bordeaux, 1545), is a collection of his poems, religious and amatory, the latter predominating. Echepare was the parish priest of the pretty little village of St. Michel, on the Béhérobie Nive, above St. Jean Pied de Port; and, if Nature alone could inspire a poet, he ought at least to have rivalled those of our own English Lakes. But, in truth, his verses are of scant poetical merit, and of little interest save as a philological curiosity.19They belong so distinctly to that irritating mediocrity which never can be excused in a poet. After Echepare the next author is Arnauld Oyhenart, of Mauléon, who published a collection of his youthful Basque poems in Paris, 1657. These have, if anything, less poetical value than Echepare’s; butOyhenart’s collection of proverbs and his “Notitia Utriusque Vasconiæ” will always make his name stand high among Basque writers. Except hymns and noëls (Christmas carols), of which many collections and editions have been published from 1630 downwards, and some of which are noteworthy on account of higher than mere poetical merit, the deep and evidently genuine spirit of piety they evince,20little else is preserved much older than the present century. One ballad indeed there is, “The Betrothed of Tardetz,” which may be somewhat older. No two versions of it are exactly alike, though the outline of the story is always the same. The Lord of the Castle of Tardetz wishes to give the elder of his two daughters in marriage to the King of Hungary, or of Portugal, as some have it. But the lady’s heart has been already won by Sala, the son of the miller of Tardetz, and she bitterly bewails being “sold like a heifer.” The bells which ring for her wedding will soon toll for her funeral. The romance in its present form is evidently incomplete, but apparently ended with the corpse of the bride being brought back to her father’s castle.

Most of the Basque songs, except the drinking ones, are set, more or less, in a minor key. The majority of the love songs would have been described by our forefathers as “complaints.” One of the prettiest, both in words and music, is the fragment entitled “The Hermitage of St. Joseph”:—

1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21

1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.

1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.

1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.

1.Chorittua, nurat huaBi hegalez airian?Españalat juaitekoElhürra dük borthian:Juanen gütük alkharrekiHura hurtü denian.

Chorittua, nurat hua

Bi hegalez airian?

Españalat juaiteko

Elhürra dük borthian:

Juanen gütük alkharreki

Hura hurtü denian.

2.San-Josefan ermitaDesertian gora da;Españalat juaitian.Han da ene phausada;Guibelilat so’ gin etaHasperena ardüra!

San-Josefan ermita

Desertian gora da;

Españalat juaitian.

Han da ene phausada;

Guibelilat so’ gin eta

Hasperena ardüra!

3.Hasperena, habiluaMaitenaren borthala:Habil, eta erran izokNik igorten haidala;Bihotzian sar hakioHura eni bezala.

Hasperena, habilua

Maitenaren borthala:

Habil, eta erran izok

Nik igorten haidala;

Bihotzian sar hakio

Hura eni bezala.

1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21

1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21

1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21

1.Little bird, where goest thouOn thy two wings in the air?To Spain to go,The snow is on the passes:We will go togetherWhen the snow is melted.

Little bird, where goest thou

On thy two wings in the air?

To Spain to go,

The snow is on the passes:

We will go together

When the snow is melted.

2.The Hermitage of Saint JosephIs high in the desertIn going to Spain.There is my resting-place,There have I looked behind, andThe sigh is frequent.

The Hermitage of Saint Joseph

Is high in the desert

In going to Spain.

There is my resting-place,

There have I looked behind, and

The sigh is frequent.

3.Sigh, goTo the door of my beloved.Go, and tell herIt is I who send you:Enter into her heart,As she (is) in mine.21

Sigh, go

To the door of my beloved.

Go, and tell her

It is I who send you:

Enter into her heart,

As she (is) in mine.21

The songs of the Agots, or Cagots, those Pariahs of the Pyrénées, who dwelt apart shunned and despised by all, are, as might be expected, uniformly sad. The misery of the labourer’s lot, and even of that of thecontrabandista, is morefrequently dwelt upon than the compensations to the poverty of the one, or the transient gleams of good fortune of the other. At least, such is the case in all those which are really songs of the people. In these there are not many delights of “life under the greenwood tree,” as in Robin Hood, or our factitious gipsies’ songs. The forest is an object of dread to the Basque poet, and it requires courage and all the powerful attraction of a loved one to induce him to traverse by night its gloomy shades; but then—

Mortu, oihan illunaDeusere ez da neretzat.Deserts and forests darkThey are then nought to me.

Mortu, oihan illunaDeusere ez da neretzat.

Mortu, oihan illunaDeusere ez da neretzat.

Mortu, oihan illunaDeusere ez da neretzat.

Mortu, oihan illuna

Deusere ez da neretzat.

Deserts and forests darkThey are then nought to me.

Deserts and forests darkThey are then nought to me.

Deserts and forests darkThey are then nought to me.

Deserts and forests dark

They are then nought to me.

The following is an illustration of the Cagots’ or Agots’ songs. This piece, of which the author was the hero, was written about 1783, when he was eighteen years old.Cf.Fr. Michel, “Les Races Maudites de France et de l’Espagne,” vol. ii. p. 150, and “Le Pays Basque,” p. 270; and, for the music, Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque,” p. 172.22

1.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.238.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.

1.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.

1.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.

1.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.

1.—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako erradaNigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?

—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,

Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;

Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako errada

Nigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?

2.—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.

—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,

Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,

Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,

Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.

3.—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügülaLürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?

—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?

Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?

Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügüla

Lürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?

4.—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehiaEta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.

—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,

Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;

Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehia

Eta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.

5.—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüriaEnündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.

—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;

Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:

Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüria

Enündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.

6.—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?

—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:

Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.

Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:

Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?

7.—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestiaBiribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.

—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:

Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;

Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestia

Biribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.

8.—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.

—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,

Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.

Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,

Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.

9.—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begiaLürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.

—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begia

Lürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.

Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,

Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.

1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.238.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.

1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.238.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.

1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.238.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.

1.Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.Where have you left the sheep? Whence is itI see your beautiful eye full of tears?

Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,

Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.

Where have you left the sheep? Whence is it

I see your beautiful eye full of tears?

2.Unknown to my father I have come towards you,Heart-broken, to tell you yourselfThat he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.

Unknown to my father I have come towards you,

Heart-broken, to tell you yourself

That he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,

Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.

3.Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?That you are come to bid farewell for ever?Do you not remember that we have given our wordTo love each other as long as we live upon the earth?

Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?

That you are come to bid farewell for ever?

Do you not remember that we have given our word

To love each other as long as we live upon the earth?

4.Yesterday some one came to my father and motherTo warn them that we loved each other;That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.

Yesterday some one came to my father and mother

To warn them that we loved each other;

That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,

And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.

5.That there are Agots I have heard tell;You tell me, too, that I am of them!If I had ever had only the shadow of them,I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.

That there are Agots I have heard tell;

You tell me, too, that I am of them!

If I had ever had only the shadow of them,

I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.

6.Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?

Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;

Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.

Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:

In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?

7.It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—One gives the first glance at his ear;He has one too large, and, as for the other,It is round and covered all over with hair.23

It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—

One gives the first glance at his ear;

He has one too large, and, as for the other,

It is round and covered all over with hair.23

8.If that is so, you are not of those folk;For your ears resemble each other perfectly.If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,I will tell my father you have the two alike.

If that is so, you are not of those folk;

For your ears resemble each other perfectly.

If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,

I will tell my father you have the two alike.

9.The Agot walks with his head low, and his eyeIs fixed on the earth like a criminal.If I had been rich, like you,Your father would not have said that I was Agot.

The Agot walks with his head low, and his eye

Is fixed on the earth like a criminal.

If I had been rich, like you,

Your father would not have said that I was Agot.

There are, too, verses of grim and bitter humour, which tell better than the pen of the historian how wretched was formerly the lot of the peasant, even in this favoured corner of France. Famine is personified, and has a name given it, drawn in biting irony from that of the highest Saint of the Church Calendar, Petiri Sanz (S. Peter). He wanders round the country seeking where to settle permanently; at one place he is driven off by (the sale of) rosin, at anotherlittle maize, at another by cheese and cherries; but at last he fixes hisabode definitivelyat St. Pée (another form of Peter), on the Nivelle, where they have nothing at all to sell, and where he torments the inhabitants by forcing them to keep many a fast beyond those of ecclesiastical obligation. The same strain of gloomy humour appears in another form in a poem entitled “Mes Méditations,”24in which a young priest of Ciboure, slowly dying of consumption, traces in detail all the physical and mental agonies of his approaching dissolution. A much less grim example, however, is contained in the following, which we quote mainly because of its brevity. It may remind some of our readers of a longer but similar strain which used often to be sung at harvest-homes in the Midland Counties:—

Dote Galdia.251.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.The Lost Dowry.1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.

Dote Galdia.251.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.

Dote Galdia.251.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.

Dote Galdia.251.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.

1.Aitac eman daut dotia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,Oilo corroca bere chituekin,Tipula corda hayekin.

Aitac eman daut dotia,

Neuria, neuria, neuria;

Urdeño bat bere cherriekin,

Oilo corroca bere chituekin,

Tipula corda hayekin.

2.Oxuac jan daut urdia,Neuria, neuria, neuria;Acheriac oilo coroca,Garratoinac tipula corda;Adios ene dotia.

Oxuac jan daut urdia,

Neuria, neuria, neuria;

Acheriac oilo coroca,

Garratoinac tipula corda;

Adios ene dotia.

The Lost Dowry.1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.

The Lost Dowry.1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.

The Lost Dowry.1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.

1.My father has given me my dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with pigs ten,Her chicks with the hen,And of onions a rope to stow by.2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.

My father has given me my dowry,

Mine, mine, mine;

A sow with pigs ten,

Her chicks with the hen,

And of onions a rope to stow by.

2.But the wolf has devoured my sow,Mine, mine, mine;My chickens are killed by the cats,My onions are gnawn by the rats;Good-bye to my dowry now.

But the wolf has devoured my sow,

Mine, mine, mine;

My chickens are killed by the cats,

My onions are gnawn by the rats;

Good-bye to my dowry now.

More literally:—

1.My father has given me the dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with her little pigs,A brood hen with her chickens,A cord of onions with them.2.The wolf has eaten my sow,Mine, mine, mine;The fox my brood hen,The rats my cord of onions,Good-bye, my dowry.

1.My father has given me the dowry,Mine, mine, mine;A sow with her little pigs,A brood hen with her chickens,A cord of onions with them.

My father has given me the dowry,

Mine, mine, mine;

A sow with her little pigs,

A brood hen with her chickens,

A cord of onions with them.

2.The wolf has eaten my sow,Mine, mine, mine;The fox my brood hen,The rats my cord of onions,Good-bye, my dowry.

The wolf has eaten my sow,

Mine, mine, mine;

The fox my brood hen,

The rats my cord of onions,

Good-bye, my dowry.

The lack of good poetry in Basque is certainly not due to want of encouragement. Moreover, the wish to produce it is there, but the power seems lacking. For over twenty years prizes have been annually given, first at Urrugne, and then at Sare, by M. Antoine d’Abbadie, of Abbadia. But among the multitude of competing poems few have been of any real value, and both in merit and in the number presented they seem to diminish annually. The best of them have been written by men of the professional class, whose taste has been formed on French, or Spanish, or classical, rather than on native models. The following is considered by native critics to be among the best, though several others are very little, if at all, inferior26:—

Artzain Dohatsua.1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.The Happy Shepherd.1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.

Artzain Dohatsua.1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.

Artzain Dohatsua.1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.

Artzain Dohatsua.1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.

1.Etchola bat da ene jauregiaAldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;Arthalde batHalakorik ez baita hambat,Bazait niri behar besembat.Ai! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi

Etchola bat da ene jauregia

Aldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;

Arthalde bat

Halakorik ez baita hambat,

Bazait niri behar besembat.

Ai! etzait itsusi!

Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi

2.Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;Hemen nago,Erregue baino fierrago.Nik zer behar dut gehiago?Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.

Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,

Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;

Hemen nago,

Erregue baino fierrago.

Nik zer behar dut gehiago?

Ha! ez da itsusi!

Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.

3.Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;Eta geroItzalpean jarririk nago,Nor da ni baino urusago?Ez! etzait itsusi!Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.

Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,

Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;

Eta gero

Itzalpean jarririk nago,

Nor da ni baino urusago?

Ez! etzait itsusi!

Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.

4.Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.Alegera(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27Nik ez dut dembora sobera.Ai! etzait itsusi!Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.

Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,

Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.

Alegera

(Bethi naiz; tristatucera)27

Nik ez dut dembora sobera.

Ai! etzait itsusi!

Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.

5.Jan onegiak barnea betherik,Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;Eta bethiEne trempuaz da bekhaizti;Diruz ez baitaite erosi.Ha! ez da itsusi!Etchola gasteluaren nausi.

Jan onegiak barnea betherik,

Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;

Eta bethi

Ene trempuaz da bekhaizti;

Diruz ez baitaite erosi.

Ha! ez da itsusi!

Etchola gasteluaren nausi.

6.Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,Igortzen banindu aberasturik;ZorigaitzezHesturik nindauke bihotzez,Ene etchola hemen minez.Jauna! ba ha niri!Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.

Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,

Igortzen banindu aberasturik;

Zorigaitzez

Hesturik nindauke bihotzez,

Ene etchola hemen minez.

Jauna! ba ha niri!

Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.

The Happy Shepherd.1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.

The Happy Shepherd.1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.

The Happy Shepherd.1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.

1.A cottage my castle is,By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;A flockSuch as mine is of no great worth,Yet it is all I need.Ah! my lot is not so bad!I am master of this little house.

A cottage my castle is,

By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;

A flock

Such as mine is of no great worth,

Yet it is all I need.

Ah! my lot is not so bad!

I am master of this little house.

2.Tranquil I live by night and day,Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;Here dwellNo king more proud.What need I more?Ha! it is not so bad!Peter is master in this little house.

Tranquil I live by night and day,

Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;

Here dwell

No king more proud.

What need I more?

Ha! it is not so bad!

Peter is master in this little house.

3.Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,My sheep I drive to the pastures;And then’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.Where is there one more happy than I?No! my lot is not so bad!I of my flock the master am.

Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,

My sheep I drive to the pastures;

And then

’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.

Where is there one more happy than I?

No! my lot is not so bad!

I of my flock the master am.

4.The sons of the nobles in the castles,Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.Joyful(Always am I; to be sad)I have not time enough for that.Ah! my lot is not so bad!In the cottage of which I the master am.

The sons of the nobles in the castles,

Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.

Joyful

(Always am I; to be sad)

I have not time enough for that.

Ah! my lot is not so bad!

In the cottage of which I the master am.

5.Eating too much, and ever full,The rich they never feel hunger;Yet alwaysMy rude good health they envy;With money they cannot purchase that.Ha! it is not so bad!The cottage the lord of the castle is.

Eating too much, and ever full,

The rich they never feel hunger;

Yet always

My rude good health they envy;

With money they cannot purchase that.

Ha! it is not so bad!

The cottage the lord of the castle is.

6.Once on a time I grieved the Lord,Sending me full of riches;Of sorrowFull then was I at heart,My little house here suffering.Lord! spare me!Leave me the master of my little house.

Once on a time I grieved the Lord,

Sending me full of riches;

Of sorrow

Full then was I at heart,

My little house here suffering.

Lord! spare me!

Leave me the master of my little house.

A pretty cradle song, “Lo! Lo! ene Maitea” (“Sleep! Sleep! my Darling”), by M. Larralde, a physician of St. Jean de Luz, won the prize at Urrugne in 1859. It is written to a tune composed by the Vicomte de Belzunce; the words have been printed in the “Lettres Labourdines,” par H. L. Fabre (Bayonne, 1869).

1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!

1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!

1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!

1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!

1.Lo! Lo! nere maitea!Lo! ni naiz zurekin!Lo! Lo! paregabea!Nigarrik ez-eghin;Goizegui da! MundukoGelditzen bazira,Nigarretan urtzecoBaduzu dembora.

Lo! Lo! nere maitea!

Lo! ni naiz zurekin!

Lo! Lo! paregabea!

Nigarrik ez-eghin;

Goizegui da! Munduko

Gelditzen bazira,

Nigarretan urtzeco

Baduzu dembora.

2.Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,Lo! Lo! nombait goza.Es duzuya ezagutzenAmattoren boza?Exai guzietaricZure begiratzenBertze lanak utzirik.Egonen naiz hemen.

Lo! nik zaitut higitzen,

Lo! Lo! nombait goza.

Es duzuya ezagutzen

Amattoren boza?

Exai guzietaric

Zure begiratzen

Bertze lanak utzirik.

Egonen naiz hemen.

3.Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!Bainan amexetan,Dabilkasu burua;Hirria ezpainetan;Norekin othe zare?Non othe zabiltza?Ez urrun ama-gabeGan ene bihotza.

Lo! Lo! nere aingerua!

Bainan amexetan,

Dabilkasu burua;

Hirria ezpainetan;

Norekin othe zare?

Non othe zabiltza?

Ez urrun ama-gabe

Gan ene bihotza.

4.Lo! Lo! zeruetaratAiratu bazare,Ez bihar zu lurreratArdiexi-gabeUngi zure altchatzekoEnetzat gracia;Guciz eni hortakoZait ezti bizia!

Lo! Lo! zeruetarat

Airatu bazare,

Ez bihar zu lurrerat

Ardiexi-gabe

Ungi zure altchatzeko

Enetzat gracia;

Guciz eni hortako

Zait ezti bizia!

5.Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,Nombait du eguna;Ez da nihon argirikBaizik izarrena.Izarrez! mintzazeanZutaz naiz orhoitzen;Zein guti, zure aldeanDuten distiratzen!

Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik,

Nombait du eguna;

Ez da nihon argirik

Baizik izarrena.

Izarrez! mintzazean

Zutaz naiz orhoitzen;

Zein guti, zure aldean

Duten distiratzen!

6.Lo! Lo! dembora dela!Iduri zait albakHisten hari tuelaEkhi gabazkoak.Choriac arboletanKantaz hasi dire;Laster nere besoetanGochatuko zare.

Lo! Lo! dembora dela!

Iduri zait albak

Histen hari tuela

Ekhi gabazkoak.

Choriac arboletan

Kantaz hasi dire;

Laster nere besoetan

Gochatuko zare.

7.Bainan atzarri zareUso bat iduri.Una nik zembat lore(ac)Zuretzat ekharri!Ametsetan ait-amezOthe zare orhoitu?Ai! hirri maite batezBaietz erradazu!

Bainan atzarri zare

Uso bat iduri.

Una nik zembat lore(ac)

Zuretzat ekharri!

Ametsetan ait-amez

Othe zare orhoitu?

Ai! hirri maite batez

Baietz erradazu!

1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!

1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!

1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!

1.Sleep! Sleep! my darling!Sleep! I am with thee!Sleep! Sleep! without peer!Shed no tears;It is too soon! Of the world,If thou seest long days,For tears thou wilt haveEnough time.

Sleep! Sleep! my darling!

Sleep! I am with thee!

Sleep! Sleep! without peer!

Shed no tears;

It is too soon! Of the world,

If thou seest long days,

For tears thou wilt have

Enough time.

2.Sleep! I am rocking thee,Sleep! Sleep! and be still.Dost thou not recogniseOf thy mother the voice?From every foeTo guard theeI quit all else.I am watching here.

Sleep! I am rocking thee,

Sleep! Sleep! and be still.

Dost thou not recognise

Of thy mother the voice?

From every foe

To guard thee

I quit all else.

I am watching here.

3.Sleep! Sleep! my angel!But borne on the wings of a dreamThy spirit far away flies;A smile plays on thy lips;Who are with thee?Where dost thou wander?Not far without your motherGo my (dear) heart.

Sleep! Sleep! my angel!

But borne on the wings of a dream

Thy spirit far away flies;

A smile plays on thy lips;

Who are with thee?

Where dost thou wander?

Not far without your mother

Go my (dear) heart.

4.Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavensIf thy spirit has flown,Do not to earth returnWithout having obtainedTo bring thee up wellFor me the favour;This duty is allThat is life to me!

Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavens

If thy spirit has flown,

Do not to earth return

Without having obtained

To bring thee up well

For me the favour;

This duty is all

That is life to me!

5.Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,The day is still distant;There is no other lightThan that of the stars.The stars! At the wordI am thinking of thee;And (I say) than theeA star is less bright.

Sleep! Sleep! now it is night,

The day is still distant;

There is no other light

Than that of the stars.

The stars! At the word

I am thinking of thee;

And (I say) than thee

A star is less bright.

6.Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!I see that the dawnIs making paleThe stars of the night.The birds in the treesTheir songs have begun;Soon on my bosomThou wilt begin to play.

Sleep! Sleep! while there is time!

I see that the dawn

Is making pale

The stars of the night.

The birds in the trees

Their songs have begun;

Soon on my bosom

Thou wilt begin to play.

7.But thou art wakingLike a sweet dove.See what flowersI have gathered for theeTell me, in thy dreamDidst thou think of me?Ah! what a dear smileDoth answer me, Yes!

But thou art waking

Like a sweet dove.

See what flowers

I have gathered for thee

Tell me, in thy dream

Didst thou think of me?

Ah! what a dear smile

Doth answer me, Yes!

The following belongs to a more quaint and popular class of lullaby, or cradle songs; as it is so simple we do not give the Basque:—

Little Peter.281.Ah, my little Peter,I am sleepy, and—Shall I go to bed?Go on spinning, and—Then, then, then,Go on spinning, and—Then, then, yes.2.Dear little Peter,I have spun, and—Shall I go to bed?Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, then,Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, yes.3.Dear little Peter,I have put it in skeins, and—Shall I go to bed?Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, then,Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, yes.4.Dear little Peter,I have wound it off, and—Shall I go to bed?Bleach it, and—Then, then, then,Bleach it, and—Then, then, yes.5.Dear little Peter,I have bleached it, and—Shall I go to bed?Weave it, and—Then, then, then,Weave it, and—Then, then, yes.6.Dear little Peter,I have woven it, and—Shall I go to bed?Cut it, and—Then, then, then,Cut it, and—Then, then, yes.7.Dear little Peter,I have cut it, and—Shall I go to bed?Sew it, and—Then, then, then,Sew it, and—Then, then, yes.8.Oh! my little Peter,I have sewn it, and—Shall I go to bed?It is daylight! and—Then, then, then,It is daylight! and—Then, then, yes!

1.Ah, my little Peter,I am sleepy, and—Shall I go to bed?Go on spinning, and—Then, then, then,Go on spinning, and—Then, then, yes.

Ah, my little Peter,

I am sleepy, and—

Shall I go to bed?

Go on spinning, and—

Then, then, then,

Go on spinning, and—

Then, then, yes.

2.Dear little Peter,I have spun, and—Shall I go to bed?Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, then,Put the thread up in skeins, and—Then, then, yes.

Dear little Peter,

I have spun, and—

Shall I go to bed?

Put the thread up in skeins, and—

Then, then, then,

Put the thread up in skeins, and—

Then, then, yes.

3.Dear little Peter,I have put it in skeins, and—Shall I go to bed?Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, then,Wind off the thread, and—Then, then, yes.

Dear little Peter,

I have put it in skeins, and—

Shall I go to bed?

Wind off the thread, and—

Then, then, then,

Wind off the thread, and—

Then, then, yes.

4.Dear little Peter,I have wound it off, and—Shall I go to bed?Bleach it, and—Then, then, then,Bleach it, and—Then, then, yes.

Dear little Peter,

I have wound it off, and—

Shall I go to bed?

Bleach it, and—

Then, then, then,

Bleach it, and—

Then, then, yes.

5.Dear little Peter,I have bleached it, and—Shall I go to bed?Weave it, and—Then, then, then,Weave it, and—Then, then, yes.

Dear little Peter,

I have bleached it, and—

Shall I go to bed?

Weave it, and—

Then, then, then,

Weave it, and—

Then, then, yes.

6.Dear little Peter,I have woven it, and—Shall I go to bed?Cut it, and—Then, then, then,Cut it, and—Then, then, yes.

Dear little Peter,

I have woven it, and—

Shall I go to bed?

Cut it, and—

Then, then, then,

Cut it, and—

Then, then, yes.

7.Dear little Peter,I have cut it, and—Shall I go to bed?Sew it, and—Then, then, then,Sew it, and—Then, then, yes.

Dear little Peter,

I have cut it, and—

Shall I go to bed?

Sew it, and—

Then, then, then,

Sew it, and—

Then, then, yes.

8.Oh! my little Peter,I have sewn it, and—Shall I go to bed?It is daylight! and—Then, then, then,It is daylight! and—Then, then, yes!

Oh! my little Peter,

I have sewn it, and—

Shall I go to bed?

It is daylight! and—

Then, then, then,

It is daylight! and—

Then, then, yes!

The best living Basque poets are—on the French side, Captain Elisamboure, of Hendaye; and Iparraguirre, of San Sebastian, among the Spanish Basques. Iparraguirre is now very old. He is the author of the song “Guernicaco Arbola” (“The Tree of Guernica,” in Biscay), an oak under which the Lords of Biscay swore fidelity to the Fueros. This has become almost the national song of the Basques.29A few words on two other classes of songs, the drinking and themacaronic, must conclude our remarks. The most spirited drinking song is the following.30It must be remembered, in excuse, that the shepherds live a very hard life on the mountains the greater part of the year, and taste little wine there.

Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!

Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!

Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!

Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!

Artzain Zaharrac.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!

1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.Hordi gira?Ez, ezgira.Basoak detzagun bira!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Artzain zaharrac tafarnan.

Hordi gira?

Ez, ezgira.

Basoak detzagun bira!

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Basoak detzagun bira!

2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Nork joiten derauku borthan?BehabadaOtsoa da!Nihor ez gaiten athera!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Basoak detzagun bira!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Nork joiten derauku borthan?

Behabada

Otsoa da!

Nihor ez gaiten athera!

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Basoak detzagun bira!

3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Uria hari karrikan.Gauden hemen,Arno hunenGostu onean edaten.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Gauden gostuan edaten!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Uria hari karrikan.

Gauden hemen,

Arno hunen

Gostu onean edaten.

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Gauden gostuan edaten!

4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Babazuza tarrapatan!Dugun edanHamarretan.Aberats gira gau huntan.Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aberats gira gau hutan.

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Babazuza tarrapatan!

Dugun edan

Hamarretan.

Aberats gira gau huntan.

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Aberats gira gau hutan.

5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Ez dut minik sabeletan!Nahi nukeEhun urthe,Hola egon banindaite!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Hola egon banindaite!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Ez dut minik sabeletan!

Nahi nuke

Ehun urthe,

Hola egon banindaite!

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Hola egon banindaite!

6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Arnorik ez da boteilan!Ostalera,Ez ikhara,Arnoko bethi sos bada!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Arnoko bethi sos bada!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Arnorik ez da boteilan!

Ostalera,

Ez ikhara,

Arnoko bethi sos bada!

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Arnoko bethi sos bada!

7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zer othe dut beguietan?Non da bortha?Airatu da.Mahaya dantzan dabila!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Mahaya dantzan dabila!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Zer othe dut beguietan?

Non da bortha?

Airatu da.

Mahaya dantzan dabila!

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Mahaya dantzan dabila!

8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Zangoak amor bidean!Hanketan min!Gaizo, Martin,Urkatsik ez dirok egin!Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Urkatsik ez dirok egin!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Zangoak amor bidean!

Hanketan min!

Gaizo, Martin,

Urkatsik ez dirok egin!

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Urkatsik ez dirok egin!

9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.Sendo nintzanAski edan;Izan banu gau hunetan,Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!Aski edan gau hunetan!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan.

Sendo nintzan

Aski edan;

Izan banu gau hunetan,

Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho!

Aski edan gau hunetan!

The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!

The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!

The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!

The Old Shepherds.1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!

1.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The old shepherds (are) at the inn.Are we drunk?No, we are not.Long live the glass!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

The old shepherds (are) at the inn.

Are we drunk?

No, we are not.

Long live the glass!

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

Long live the glass!

2.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.Who knocks at the door?PerhapsIt’s the wolf!We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Long live the glass!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

Who knocks at the door?

Perhaps

It’s the wolf!

We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)!

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

Long live the glass!

3.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The rain begins in the street.Let us stop the night here,This good wineTo drink with pleasure.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!In the night to drink with pleasure!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

The rain begins in the street.

Let us stop the night here,

This good wine

To drink with pleasure.

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

In the night to drink with pleasure!

4.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.The hail comes rattling down!Let us drinkFor the tenth time.We are rich to-night.Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!We are rich this night.

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

The hail comes rattling down!

Let us drink

For the tenth time.

We are rich to-night.

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

We are rich this night.

5.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am so jolly inside!I wish (I could live)A hundred years,If I might remain like this!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!If I might remain like this!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

I am so jolly inside!

I wish (I could live)

A hundred years,

If I might remain like this!

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

If I might remain like this!

6.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.There’s no more wine in the bottle!Landlord,Don’t be afraid,There’s always money for wine!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!There’s always money for wine!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

There’s no more wine in the bottle!

Landlord,

Don’t be afraid,

There’s always money for wine!

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

There’s always money for wine!

7.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.What’s gone wrong with my eyes?Where’s the door?It has flown away.The table’s beginning to dance!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!The table’s beginning to dance!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

What’s gone wrong with my eyes?

Where’s the door?

It has flown away.

The table’s beginning to dance!

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

The table’s beginning to dance!

8.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.My feet won’t go straight on the road!I’m bad in my legs!To-morrow, Martin,You will not be able to walk at all!Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!You will not be able to walk at all!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

My feet won’t go straight on the road!

I’m bad in my legs!

To-morrow, Martin,

You will not be able to walk at all!

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

You will not be able to walk at all!

9.Tam, tam, tam, tam,Rapetanplan.I am very ill, I am like to die.I should have been curedHad I drunk enough;If I had but this night,Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!Drunk enough this night!

Tam, tam, tam, tam,

Rapetanplan.

I am very ill, I am like to die.

I should have been cured

Had I drunk enough;

If I had but this night,

Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho!

Drunk enough this night!

It is not at all uncommon in a country where, within the space of some twenty miles, the traveller may hear at least four languages—French, Gascoun, Basque, and Spanish—to find two or more of these mixed in the same poem, and sometimes with a little Latin as well. This occurs frequently in the noëls, where the angel speaks in French or Latin, and the shepherds reply in Gascoun or Basque; also sometimes in the love songs, where the French or Spanish lover will try to soften the heart of a Basque maiden by compliments in French or Spanish, while shegreatesttour de forceof this kind we know, both as to language and rhyme, is the song given in Fr. Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” p. 429. We quote the first verse only; but the song continues with twenty-eight successive Basque rhymes in “in,” and the last seven in “en.”

Latin.Sed libera nos a malo. Sit nomen Domini.Deliver us from evil. God’s holy Name be praised;Spanish.Vamos á cantar un canto para diverti.Let’s sing a song, my friends, and a joyous clamour raise;Basque.Jan dugunaz gueroz chahalki hounetiFor we of rare good meat have eaten to our fill,Basque.Eta edan ardoa Juranzouneti.And the good wine of JurançonFrench.Chantons, chantons, mes chers amis, je suis content pardi!have drunken at our will. Then sing, friends, sing, i’faith, I’m right well pleased!Gascoun.Trinquam d’aquest boun bi,Let’s hear the glasses ring,Basque.Eta dezagun canta cantore berri.And our new song, my friends, let’s all together sing.

Almost every one of these Basque songs, like all true lyrics, has been adapted to some tune, either older than the words, or composed specially by the author. The music is often superior to the words. In theNineteenth Centuryfor August, 1878, Grant-Duff speaks of some of the Basque airs sung by the Béarnais tenor, Pascal Lamazou, as “extraordinarily beautiful.”31Lamazou died at Pau in May, 1878. Hisrépertoireconsisted of fifty Pyrenean songs, of which thirty-four are Béarnais, fourteen Basque, and twoare from the “Pyrénées Orientales.”32One of the Basque airs “Artzaina,” has somehow got attached to the popular American hymn, “I want to be an angel.” Another, and larger collection, including more correct renderings of some of Lamazou’s fourteen, is that of Sallaberry, “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” (Bayonne, 1870). But, long before this, a collection of Basque Songs, Zorzicos, and dance music was published in San Sebastian, by J. D. Iztueta, in 1824 and 1826. Excellent reviews of these two works, with translations of some of the words, appeared in theForeign Review and Continental Miscellany, vol. ii., pp. 338, 1828; and in vol. iv., p. 198. Some specimens of music are to be found at the end of Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” in the “Cancionero Vasco”—now in course of publication, and so often referred to—and in other local publications, besides those in private hands. Basquophiles love to narrate that Rossini passed a summer in the Basque village of Cambo, and believe that they can recognise the influence of Basque airs in some of his subsequent operas. However this may be, let no one judge of Basque music by the noëls usually howled in the streets at Christmas and the New Year, or by the doleful productions of the last Carlist War. It would be equally fair to judge of English music by the serenades of the waits at Christmas. We refer those who wish to investigate further the subject of this chapter to the excellent work, “Le Pays Basque,” par M. Fr. Michel (Paris and London, 1857), for the French, to the “Cancionero Vasco,” by Don José Manterola, now in course of publication at San Sebastian, for the Spanish, Basque; and to M. Sallaberry’s “Chants Populaires du Pays Basque” for the music.


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