1I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,An a cow low down in yon glen;Lang, lang will my young son greetOr his mither bid him come ben.2I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,An a cow low down in yon fauld;Lang, lang will my young son greetOr his mither take him frae cauld.* * * * *3. . . . . . .. . . . . . .Waken, Queen of Elfan,An hear your nourice moan.'4'O moan ye for your meat,Or moan ye for your fee,Or moan ye for the ither bountiesThat ladies are wont to gie?'5'I moan na for my meat,Nor moan I for my fee,Nor moan I for the ither bountiesThat ladies are wont to gie.6. . . . . . .. . . . . . .But I moan for my young sonI left in four nights auld.7'I moan na for my meat,Nor yet for my fee,But I mourn for Christen land,It's there I fain would be.'8'O nurse my bairn, nourice,' she says,'Till he stan at your knee,An ye's win hame to Christen land,Whar fain it's ye wad be.9'O keep my bairn, nourice,Till he gang by the hauld,An ye's win hame to your young sonYe left in four nights auld.'* * * * *10'O nourice lay your headUpo my knee:See ye na that narrow roadUp by yon tree?11. . . . . . .. . . . . . .That's the road the righteous goes,And that's the road to heaven.12'An see na ye that braid road,Down by yon sunny fell?Yon's the road the wicked gae,An that's the road to hell.'* * * * *
1I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,An a cow low down in yon glen;Lang, lang will my young son greetOr his mither bid him come ben.
2I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,An a cow low down in yon fauld;Lang, lang will my young son greetOr his mither take him frae cauld.
* * * * *
3. . . . . . .. . . . . . .Waken, Queen of Elfan,An hear your nourice moan.'
4'O moan ye for your meat,Or moan ye for your fee,Or moan ye for the ither bountiesThat ladies are wont to gie?'
5'I moan na for my meat,Nor moan I for my fee,Nor moan I for the ither bountiesThat ladies are wont to gie.
6. . . . . . .. . . . . . .But I moan for my young sonI left in four nights auld.
7'I moan na for my meat,Nor yet for my fee,But I mourn for Christen land,It's there I fain would be.'
8'O nurse my bairn, nourice,' she says,'Till he stan at your knee,An ye's win hame to Christen land,Whar fain it's ye wad be.
9'O keep my bairn, nourice,Till he gang by the hauld,An ye's win hame to your young sonYe left in four nights auld.'
* * * * *
10'O nourice lay your headUpo my knee:See ye na that narrow roadUp by yon tree?
11. . . . . . .. . . . . . .That's the road the righteous goes,And that's the road to heaven.
12'An see na ye that braid road,Down by yon sunny fell?Yon's the road the wicked gae,An that's the road to hell.'
* * * * *
11. an a bonnie cow low,withancrossed out.22. yon fall:fauldin margin.64.auldnot in MS., supplied from 94.73. Christend.81.she saysis probably the comment of the singer or reciter.
11. an a bonnie cow low,withancrossed out.
22. yon fall:fauldin margin.
64.auldnot in MS., supplied from 94.
73. Christend.
81.she saysis probably the comment of the singer or reciter.
FOOTNOTES:[333]Many of these instances are cited by Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 1875, I, 378. In Thiele's first example the necessity of having Christian aid comes from the lying-in woman being a Christian who had been carried off by an elf. In Asbjørnsen's tale, the woman who is sent for to act as midwife finds that her own serving-maid is forced, without being aware of it, to work all night in the elfin establishment, and is very tired with double duty.
[333]Many of these instances are cited by Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 1875, I, 378. In Thiele's first example the necessity of having Christian aid comes from the lying-in woman being a Christian who had been carried off by an elf. In Asbjørnsen's tale, the woman who is sent for to act as midwife finds that her own serving-maid is forced, without being aware of it, to work all night in the elfin establishment, and is very tired with double duty.
[333]Many of these instances are cited by Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 1875, I, 378. In Thiele's first example the necessity of having Christian aid comes from the lying-in woman being a Christian who had been carried off by an elf. In Asbjørnsen's tale, the woman who is sent for to act as midwife finds that her own serving-maid is forced, without being aware of it, to work all night in the elfin establishment, and is very tired with double duty.
A.'Young Akin,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 6. Motherwell's MS., p. 554.B.'Hynde Etin,' Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 228.C.'Young Hastings,' Buchan, Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 67. 'Young Hastings the Groom,' Motherwell's MS., p. 450; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 287.
A.'Young Akin,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 6. Motherwell's MS., p. 554.
B.'Hynde Etin,' Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 228.
C.'Young Hastings,' Buchan, Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 67. 'Young Hastings the Groom,' Motherwell's MS., p. 450; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 287.
It is scarcely necessary to remark that this ballad, like too many others, has suffered severely by the accidents of tradition.Ahas been not simply damaged by passing through low mouths, but has been worked over by low hands. Something considerable has been lost from the story, and fine romantic features, preserved in Norse and German ballads, have been quite effaced.
Margaret, a king's daughter,A, an earl's daughter,B, a lady of noble birth,C, as she sits sewing in her bower door, hears a note in Elmond's wood and wishes herself there,A. The wood is Amon-shaw inC, Mulberry inB: the Elmond (Amond, Elfman?) is probably significant. So far the heroine resembles Lady Isabel in No 4, who, sewing in her bower, hears an elf-horn, and cannot resist the enchanted tone. Margaret makes for the wood as fast as she can go. The note that is heard inAis mistaken inBfornuts: Margaret, as she stands in her bower door, spies some nuts growing in the wood, and wishes herself there. Arrived at the wood, Margaret, inAas well asB, immediately takes to pulling nuts.[334]The lady is carried off inCunder cover of a magical mist, and the hero in all is no ordinary hind.
Margaret has hardly pulled a nut, when she is confronted by young Akin,A, otherwise, and correctly, called Etin inB, a hind of giant strength in both, who accuses her of trespassing, and stops her. Akin pulls up the highest tree in the wood and builds a bower, invisible to passers-by, for their habitation.B, which recognizes no influence of enchantment upon the lady's will, as found inA, and no prepossession on her part, as inC, makes Hind Etin pull up the biggest tree in the forest as well, but it is to scoop out a cave many fathoms deep, in which he confines Margaret till she comes to terms, and consents togo homewith him, wherever that may be. Hastings, another corruption of Etin, carries off the lady on his horse to the wood, "where again their loves are sworn," and there they take up their abode in a cave of stone,C9. Lady Margaret lives with the etin seven years, and bears him seven sons,A9; many years, and bears seven sons,B; ten years, and bears seven bairns,C6, 8, 9.[335]
Once upon a time the etin goes hunting,and takes his eldest boy with him. The boy asks his father why his mother is so often in tears, and the father says it is because she was born of high degree, but had been stolen by him; "is wife of Hynde Etin, wha ne'er got christendame,"B15. The etin, who could pull the highest tree in the wood up by the roots, adds inA15 that when he stole his wife he was her father's cup-bearer! and that he caught her "on a misty night," which reminds us of the mist which Young Hastings, "the groom," cast before the lady's attendants when he carried her off.
The next time Akin goes hunting he leaves his young comrade behind, and the boy tells his mother that he heard "fine music ring" when he was coming home, on the other occasion. She wishes she had been there. He takes his mother and six brothers, and they make their way through the wood at their best speed, not knowing in what direction they are going. But luckily they come to the gate of the king, the father and grandfather of the band. The mother sends her eldest boy in with three rings, to propitiate the porter, the butler-boy, who acts as usher in this particular palace, and the minstrel who plays before the king. His majesty is so struck with the resemblance of the boy to his daughter that he is blinded with tears. The boy informs his grandfather that his mother is standing at the gates, with six more brothers, and the king orders that she be admitted. He asks her to dine, but she can touch nothing till she has seen her mother and sister. Admitted to her mother, the queen in turn says, You will dine with me; but she can touch nothing till she has seen her sister. Her sister, again, invites her to dine, but now she can touch nothing till she has seen her "dear husband." Rangers are sent into the wood to fetch Young Akin, under promise of a full pardon. He is found tearing his yellow hair. The king now asks Akin to dine with him, and there appears to have been a family dinner. While this is going on the boy expresses a wish to be christened, "to get christendoun;" in all his eight years he had never been in a church. The king promises that he shall go that very day with his mother, and all seven of the boys seem to have got their christendoun; and so, we may hope, did Hind Etin, who was, if possible, more in want of it than they;B15, 19.
In this storyAandBpretty nearly agree.Chas nothing of the restoration of the lady to her parents and home. The mother, in this version, having harped her seven bairns asleep, sits down and weeps bitterly. She wishes, like Fair Annie, that they were rats, and she a cat, to eat them one and all. She has lived ten years in a stone cave, and has never had a churching. The eldest boy suggests that they shall all go to some church: they be christened and she be churched. This is accomplished without any difficulty, and, as the tale stands, we can only wonder that it had not been attempted before.
The etin of the Scottish story is in Norse and German a dwarf-king, elf-king, hill-king, or even a merman. The ballad is still sung in Scandinavia and Germany, but only the Danes have versions taken down before the present century.
Danish.'Jomfruen og Dværgekongen,' Grundtvig, No 37,A-Cfrom manuscripts of the sixteenth century.A-G, Grundtvig, II, 39-46;H,I, III, 806-808;K-T, IV, 795-800,P-Sbeing short fragments.Kpreviously in "Fylla," a weekly newspaper, 1870, Nos 23, 30;L-O,Q,R, 'Agnete i Bjærget,' in Kristensen's Jyske Folkeviser, II, 72, 77, 349,74, I, xxxi, II, 79;U, a short fragment, Danske Viser, V, x, xi.
Swedish.'Den Bergtagna,'A,B, Afzelius, I, 1, No 1, II, 201.C, 'Bergkonungen,' Afzelius, II, 22, No 35.D,E, 'Herr Elver, Bergakonungen,' Arwidsson, II, 277, No 141 B, II, 275, No 141 A.F, 'Jungfrun och Bergakonungen,' Arwidsson, II, 280, No 142.G, 'Agneta och Bergamannen,' Wigström, Folkdiktning, p. 13.H, 'Jungfrun och Bergamannen,' the same, p. 21.I,K,L, in Cavallius and Stephens' manuscript collection (K,L, fragments), given by Grundtvig, IV, 803.M, F. L. Borgströms Folkvisor, No 11, described by Grundtvig, IV, 802.N, Werner's Westergötlands Fornminnen, p. 93 f, two stanzas.
Norwegian.A,B,[336]C, 'Liti Kersti, som vart inkvervd,' Landstad, p. 431, No 42, p. 442, No 44, p. 446, No 45.D, 'Margit Hjuxe, som vart inkvervd,' the same, p. 451, No 46.E,F, 'Målfri,' 'Antonetta,' Grundtvig, IV, 801 f, the last evidently derived from Denmark.G-P, nine versions communicated to Grundtvig by Professor Sophus Bugge, and partially described in Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, III, 808-10. Lindeman gives the first stanza ofAwith airs No 214, No 262 of his Fjeldmelodier, and perhaps had different copies. Nos 323, 320 may also have been versions of this ballad.C, rewritten, occurs inJ. M. Moe og Ivar Mortensen's Norske Fornkvæde og Folkevisur, p. 16. Mixed forms, in which the ballad proper is blended with another, Landstad, No 43 == Swedish, Arwidsson, No 145; eight, communicated by Bugge, Grundtvig, III, 810-13; two others, IV, 483 f.[337]
Färöe.A,B, Grundtvig, IV, 803 f.
Icelandic.'Rika álfs kvæði,' Íslenzk fornkvæði, No 4.
DanishA, one of the three sixteenth-century versions, tells how a knight, expressing a strong desire to obtain a king's daughter, is overheard by a dwarf, who says this shall never be. The dwarf pretends to bargain with the knight for his services in forwarding the knight's object, but consults meanwhile with his mother how he may get the lady for himself.[338]The mother tells him that the princess will go to even-song, and the dwarf writes runes on the way she must go by, which compel her to come to the hill. The dwarf holds out his hand and asks, How came ye to this strange land? to which the lady answers mournfully, I wot never how. The dwarf says, You have pledged yourself to a knight, and he has betrayed you with runes: this eve you shall be the dwarf's guest. She stayed there the night, and was taken back to her mother in the morning. Eight years went by; her hand was sought by five kings, nine counts, but no one of them could get a good answer. One day her mother asked, Why are thy cheeks so faded? Why can no one get thee? She then revealed that she had been beguiled by the dwarf, and had seven sons and a daughter in the hill, none of whom she ever saw. She thought she was alone, but the dwarf-king was listening. He strikes her with an elf-rod, and bids her hie to the hill after him. Late in the evening the poor thing dons her cloak, knocks at her father's door, and says good-night to the friends that never will see her again, then sadly turns to the hill. Her seven sons advance to meet her, and ask why she told of their father. Her tears run sore; she gives no answer; she is dead ere midnight.
WithAagrees another of the three old Danish copies,B, and three modern ones,D,M,N, have something of the opening scene which characterizesA. So also SwedishC,I, and the Icelandic ballad. In SwedishC, Proud Margaret, who is daughter of a king of seven kingdoms, will have none of her suitors (thiscircumstance comes too soon). A hill-king asks his mother how he may get her. She asks in return, What will you give me to make her come of herself to the hill? He promises red gold and chestfuls of pence; and one Sunday morning Margaret, who has set out to go to church, is made—by magical operations, of course—to take the way to the hill.
A second form begins a stage later: DanishC,G,K, SwedishD,E,K, NorwegianA,C,E,G,H,I(?),K,L,M(?),N(?), FäröeA,B. We learn nothing of the device by which the maid has been entrapped. Mother and daughter are sitting in their bower, and the mother asks her child why her cheeks are pale, why milk is running from her breasts. She answers that she has been working too hard; that what is taken for milk is mead. The mother retorts that other women do not suffer from their industry; that mead is brown, and milk is white. Hereupon the daughter reveals that she has been beguiled by an elf, and, though living under her mother's roof, has had eight or nine children (seven or eight sons and a daughter; fifteen children, FäröeA,B), none of whom she ever saw, since after birth they were always transferred to the hill (see, especially, DanishC,G, alsoA; NorwegianH,I; FäröeA,B). The mother (who disowns her, DanishC,G, SwedishD,E, NorwegianK), in several versions, asks what gifts she got for her honor. Among these was a harp [horn, NorwegianL], which she was to play when she was unhappy. The mother asks for a piece, and the first tones bring the elf, who reproaches the daughter for betraying him: had she concealed their connection she might still have lived at home,C; but now she must go with him. She is kindly received by her children. They give her a drink which makes her forget father and mother, heaven and earth, moon and sun, and even makes her think she was born in the hill, DanishC,G, SwedishD, NorwegianA,C.[339]
DanishG,K, FäröeA,B, take a tragic turn: the woman dies in the first two the night she comes to the hill. DanishC, one of the sixteenth-century versions, goes as far as possible in the other direction. The elf-king pats Maldfred's cheek, takes her in his arms, gives her a queen's crown and name.
And this he did for the lily-wand,He had himself christened and all his land!
And this he did for the lily-wand,He had himself christened and all his land!
A third series of versions offers the probable type of the much-corrupted Scottish ballads, and under this head come DanishE,F,H,I,L-R,T; SwedishA,B,F-I, and alsoC, after an introduction which belongs to the first class; NorwegianD,F. The characteristic feature is that the woman has been living eight or nine years in the hill, and has there borne her children, commonly seven sons and a daughter. She sets out to go to matins, and whether under the influence of runes, or accidentally, or purposely, takes the way to the hill. In a few cases it is clear that she does not seek the hill-man or put herself in his way, e.g., DanishN, SwedishG, but SwedishA,H,Nmake her apply for admission at the hill-door. In DanishI,N-R,T, NorwegianF, it is not said that she was on her way to church; she is in a field or in the hill. In SwedishFshe has been two years in the cave, and it seems to her as if she had come yesterday. After her eight or nine years with the hill-man the woman longs to go home, DanishE,F,I, SwedishA,F,I, NorwegianD; to go to church, DanishL,M,N,P,T, NorwegianF; for she had heard Denmark's bells, church bells, DanishL-P,T, SwedishG, NorwegianD,F. She had heard these bells as she watched the cradle, DanishT,P, SwedishG; sat by the cradle and sang,T4; compare EnglishC7. She asks the hill-man's permission, and it is granted on certain terms: she is not to talk of him and her life in the hill, DanishE,I, SwedishA,F,I, is to come back, DanishF, must not stay longer than an hour or two, NorwegianD; she is not to wear her gold, her best clothes, not to let out her hair, not to go into her mother's pew at the church, not to bow when the priest pronounces the holy name, or make an offering, or go home after service, etc., DanishI,L-P,T, NorwegianF. All these last conditions she violates, nor does she in the least heed the injunction not to speak of the hill-man. The consequence is that he summarily presents himself, whether at the church or the paternal mansion, and orders her back to the hill, sometimes striking her on the ear or cheek so that blood runs, or beating her with a rod, DanishE,I,L,M,S,T, SwedishA,B,C,H,I, NorwegianF. In a few versions, the hill-man tells her that her children are crying for her, and she replies, Let them cry; I will never go back to the hill; DanishM,N,O, NorwegianF. In DanishE, SwedishG, a gold apple thrown into her lap seems to compel her to return; more commonly main force is used. She is carried dead into the hill, or dies immediately on her arrival, in NorwegianF, DanishT; she dies of grief, according to traditional comment, in NorwegianD. They give her a drink, and her heart breaks, SwedishA,G,H,M; but elsewhere the drink only induces forgetfulness, DanishL,M, SwedishB,C,F.
Much of the story of 'Jomfruen og Dværgekongen' recurs in the ballad of 'Agnete og Havmanden,' which, for our purposes, may be treated as a simple variation of the other. The Norse forms are again numerous, but all from broadsides dating, at most, a century back, or from recent tradition.
Danish.'Agnete og Havmanden,' Grundtvig, No 38,A-D, II, 51 ff, 656 ff, III, 813 ff. Copies ofAare numerous, and two had been previously printed; in Danske Viser, I, 313, No 50, and "in Barfod's Brage og Idun, II, 264."E, Rask's Morskabslæsning, III, 81, Grundtvig, II, 659.F, one stanza, Grundtvig, p. 660.G,H, the same, III, 816.I, Kristensen, II, 75, No 28 C, Grundtvig, IV, 807.K, Grundtvig, IV, 808.[340]
Swedish.A,B,C, in Cavallius and Stephens' unprinted collection, described by Grundtvig, II, 661.D, 'Agneta och Hafsmannen,' Eva Wigström's Folkdiktning, p. 9.E, Bergström's Afzelius, II, 308.F, 'Skön Anna och Hafskungen,' Aminson, Bidrag till Södermanlands äldre Kulturhistoria,III, 43.G, 'Helena och Hafsmannen,' the same, p. 46.
Norwegian.A, Grundtvig, III, 817, properly Danish rather than Norwegian.B, a version partly described at p. 818.C, Grundtvig, IV, 809, also more Danish than Norwegian. All these communicated by Bugge.
DanishC,G, NorwegianA, have a hillman instead of a merman, and might as well have been put with the other ballad. On the other hand, the Danish versionsM,N,Oof 'The Maid and the Dwarf-King' call the maid Agenet, and give the hill-man a name, Nek, Netmand, Mekmand, which implies a watery origin for him, and the fragmentsP,Q,Rhave similar names, Nekmand, Negen, Lækkemand, as also Agenete, and might as well have been ranked with 'Agnes and the Merman.' In 'The Maid and the Dwarf-King,' SwedishL(one stanza) the maid is taken by "Pel Elfven" to the sea.
Agnes goes willingly with the merman to the sea-bottom, DanishA,D,E,K, SwedishA,D,E, NorwegianA,C. She lives there, according to many versions, eight years, and has seven children. As she is sitting and singing by the cradle one day, she hears the bells of England, DanishA,C,D,E,H,I,K, SwedishD[church bells, bells,F,G], NorwegianA,C. She asks if she may go tochurch, go home, and receives permission on the same terms as in the other ballad. Her mother asks her what gifts she had received, DanishA,D,E,H,I, SwedishE,F, NorwegianC. When the merman comes into the church all the images turn their backs, DanishA,D,K, SwedishD,F,G, NorwegianA,C; and, in some cases, for Agnes, too. He tells her that the children are crying for her; she refuses to go back, DanishA,C,D,I,K, SwedishD,F,G(and apparentlyA,B,C), NorwegianC. In NorwegianAthe merman strikes her on the cheek, and she returns; in DanishIshe is taken back quietly; in DanishChe gives her so sore an ail that she dies presently; in DanishHshe is taken away by force, and poisoned by her children; in DanishKthe merman says that if she stays with her mother they must divide the children (five). He takes two, she two, and each has to take half of the odd one.
The Norse forms of 'Agnes and the Merman' are conceded to have been derived from Germany: see Grundtvig, IV, 812. Of theGermanballad, which is somewhat nearer to the English, the following versions have been noted:
A.'Die schöne Agniese,' Fiedler, Volksreime und Volkslieder in Anhalt-Dessau, p. 140, No 1 == Mittler, No 553.B.'Die schöne Agnese,' Parisius, Deutsche Volkslieder in der Altmark und im Magdeburgischen gesammelt, p. 29, No 8 B, from nearly the same region asA.C.Parisius, p. 28, No 8 A, Pechau on the Elbe.D.'Die schöne Angnina,' Erk's Neue Sammlung, ii, 40, No 26 == Mittler, No 552, from the neighborhood of Magdeburg.E.'Die Schöne Agnete,' Erk's Liederhort, No 16a, p. 47, Erk's Wunderhorn, IV, 91, from the neighborhood of Guben.F.'Die schöne Dorothea,' Liederhort, No 16b, p. 48, Gramzow in der Ukermark.G.'Die schöne Hannăle,' Liederhort, No 16, p. 44, Erk's Wunderhorn, IV, 87, Silesia.H.'Die schöne Hannele,' Hoffmann u. Richter, Schlesische Volkslieder, p. 3, No 1 == Mittler, No 551, Böhme, No 90 A, Breslau. 'Der Wassermann,' Simrock, No 1, is a compounded copy.
A wild merman has become enamored of the King of England's daughter,A,B,C,D. He plates a bridge with gold; she often walks over the bridge; it sinks with her into the water [the merman drags her down into the water,H]. She stays below seven years, and bears seven sons. One day [by the cradle,C,G] she hears the bells of England,A6,B,C,D,F[bells,E,G,H], and longs to go to church. She expresses this wish to the merman,C,D,G,H. The merman says she must take her seven sons with her,B,C,D; she must come back,G,H. She takes her seven sons by the hand, and goes with them to England,A5,B7; cf. ScottishC13, 14,A22, 50. When she enters the church everything in it bows,A,B,F. Her parents are there,C,D; her father opens the pew, her mother lays a cushion for her,G,H. As she goes out of the church, there stands the merman,A,B,E,F. Her parents take her home inD,G,H. They seat her at the table, and while she is eating, a gold apple falls into her lap (cf. 'The Maid and the Dwarf-King,' DanishE, SwedishG), which she begs her mother to throw into the fire; the merman appears, and asks if she wishes him burnt,G,H. The merman, when he presents himself at the church, asks whether the woman will go back with him, or die where she is, and she prefers death on the spot,A,B,E. In the other case, he says that if she will not return, the children must be divided,—three and three, and half of the seventh to each; the mother prefers the water to this.Dhas a peculiar and not very happy trait. The merman fastens a chain to his wife's foot before she goes up, and, having been kept long waiting, draws it in. But the people at the church have taken off the chain, and he finds nothing at the end of it. He asks whether she does not wish to live with him; she replies, I will no longer torment you, or fret myself to death.
The story of Agnes and the Merman occurs in a Wendish ballad, with an introductory scene found in the beautiful German ballad, 'Wassermanns Braut:'[341]Haupt und Schmaler, I, 62, No 34. A maid begs that she may be left to herself for a year, but her father says it is time for her to be married. She goes to her chamber, weeps and wrings her hands. The merman comes and asks, Where is my bride? They tell him that she is in her chamber, weeping and wringing her hands. The merman asks her the reason, and she answers, They all say that you are the merwoman's son. He says he will build her a bridge of pure silver and gold, and have her driven over it with thirty carriages and forty horses; but ere she has half passed the bridge it goes down to the bottom. She is seven years below, has seven sons in as many years, and is going with the eighth. She implores her husband to permit her to go to church in the upper world, and he consents, with the proviso that she shall not stay for the benediction. At church she sees her brother and sister, who receive her kindly. She tells them that she cannot stay till the benediction;[342]they beg her to come home to dine with them. She does wait till the benediction; the merman rushes frantically about. As she leaves the church and is saying good-by to her sister, she meets the merman, who snatches the youngest child from her (she appears to have all seven with her), tears it in pieces, strangles the rest, scatters their limbs on the road, and hangs himself, asking, Does not your heart grieve for your children? She answers, I grieve for none but the youngest.[343]
A Slovenian ballad has the story with modifications, Achacel and Korytko, [S,]lovénşke Péşmi krajnskiga Naróda, I, 30,[344]'Povodnji mósh;' given in abstract by Haupt and Schmaler, I, 339, note to No. 34. Mizika goes to a dance, in spite of her mother's forbidding. Her mother, in a rage, wishes that the merman may fetch her. A young man who dances with her whirls her round so furiously that she complains, but he becomes still more violent. Mizika sees how it is, and exclaims, The merman has come for me! The merman flies out of the window with her, and plunges into the water. She bears a son, and asks leave to pay a visit to her mother; and this is allowed on conditions, one of which is that she shall not expose herself to a benediction. She does not conform, and the merman comes and says that her son is crying for her. She refuses to go with him, and he tears the boy in two, that each may have a half.
Two or three of the minuter correspondences between the Scottish and the Norse or German ballads, which have not been referred to, may be indicated in conclusion. The hillman, in several Norwegian copies, asB,M, carries off the lady on horseback, and so Hastings inC. InA34-39, the returned sister, being invited to dine, cannot eat a bit or drink a drop. So, in 'The Maid and the Dwarf-King,' SwedishG15, 16, they set before Agnes dishes four and five, dishes eight and nine, but she can take nothing:
Agneta ej smakte en endaste bit.
Agneta ej smakte en endaste bit.
Young Akin, inA43, is found in the wood, "tearing his yellow hair." The merman has golden hair in DanishA16, SwedishD2, 19, NorwegianA17 (nothing very remarkable, certainly), and in DanishD31 wrings his hands and is very unhappy, because Agnes refuses to return. It is much more important that in one of the Swedish copies of the merman ballad, Grundtvig, II, 661a, we find a trace of the 'christendom' which is made such an object in the Scottish ballads:
'Nay,' said the mother, 'now thou art mine,'And christened her with water and with wine.
'Nay,' said the mother, 'now thou art mine,'And christened her with water and with wine.
'The Maid and the Dwarf-King,' DanishE, is translated by Prior, III, 338; SwedishAby Stephens, Foreign Quarterly Review, XXV, 35; SwedishCby Keightley, FairyMythology, p. 103. 'Agnes and the Merman,' DanishA,C, by Prior, III, 332, 335; some copy ofAby Borrow, p. 120; Øhlenschlæger's ballad by Buchanan, p. 76.
ScottishBis translated, after Allingham, by Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen, No 30;A1-8,C6-14, by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, No 2; a compounded version by Roberts into German by Podhorszki, Acta Comparationis, etc., VIII, 69-73.
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 6; Motherwell's MS., p. 554.
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 6; Motherwell's MS., p. 554.
1Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,Sewing at her silken seam;She heard a note in Elmond's wood,And wishd she there had been.2She loot the seam fa frae her side,And the needle to her tae,And she is on to Elmond's woodAs fast as she coud gae.3She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,Nor broken a branch but ane,Till by it came a young hind chiel,Says, Lady, lat alane.4O why pu ye the nut, the nut,Or why brake ye the tree?For I am forester o this wood:Ye shoud spier leave at me.5'I'll ask leave at no living man,Nor yet will I at thee;My father is king oer a' this realm,This wood belongs to me.'6She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,Nor broken a branch but three,Till by it came him Young Akin,And gard her lat them be.7The highest tree in Elmond's wood,He's pu'd it by the reet,And he has built for her a bower,Near by a hallow seat.8He's built a bower, made it secureWi carbuncle and stane;Tho travellers were never sae nigh,Appearance it had nane.9He's kept her there in Elmond's wood,For six lang years and one,Till six pretty sons to him she bear,And the seventh she's brought home.10It fell ance upon a day,This guid lord went from home,And he is to the hunting gane,Took wi him his eldest son.11And when they were on a guid way,Wi slowly pace did walk,The boy's heart being something wae,He thus began to talk:12'A question I woud ask, father,Gin ye woudna angry be:''Say on, say on, my bonny boy,Ye'se nae be quarrelld by me.'13'I see my mither's cheeks aye weet,I never can see them dry;And I wonder what aileth my mither,To mourn continually.'14'Your mither was a king's daughter,Sprung frae a high degree,And she might hae wed some worthy prince,Had she nae been stown by me.15'I was her father's cup-bearer,Just at that fatal time;I catchd her on a misty night,Whan summer was in prime.16'My luve to her was most sincere,Her luve was great for me,But when she hardships doth endure,Her folly she does see.'17'I'll shoot the buntin o the bush,The linnet o the tree,And bring them to my dear mither,See if she'll merrier be.'18It fell upo another day,This guid lord he thought lang,And he is to the hunting gane,Took wi him his dog and gun.19Wi bow and arrow by his side,He's aff, single, alane,And left his seven children to stayWi their mither at hame.20'O I will tell to you, mither,Gin ye wadna angry be:''Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,Ye'se nae be quarrelld by me.'21'As we came frae the hynd-hunting,We heard fine music ring:''My blessings on you, my bonny boy,I wish I'd been there my lane.'22He's taen his mither by the hand,His six brithers also,And they are on thro Elmond's wood,As fast as they coud go.23They wistna weel where they were gaen,Wi the stratlins o their feet;They wistna weel where they were gaen,Till at her father's yate.24'I hae nae money in my pocket,But royal rings hae three;I'll gie them you, my little young son,And ye'll walk there for me.25'Ye'll gie the first to the proud porter,And he will lat you in;Ye'll gie the next to the butler-boy,And he will show you ben;26'Ye'll gie the third to the minstrelThat plays before the king;He'll play success to the bonny boyCame thro the wood him lane.'27He gae the first to the proud porter,And he opend an let him in;He gae the next to the butler-boy,And he has shown him ben;28He gae the third to the minstrelThat playd before the king;And he playd success to the bonny boyCame thro the wood him lane.29Now when he came before the king,Fell low down on his knee;The king he turned round about,And the saut tear blinded his ee.30'Win up, win up, my bonny boy,Gang frae my companie;Ye look sae like my dear daughter,My heart will birst in three.'31'If I look like your dear daughter,A wonder it is none;If I look like your dear daughter,I am her eldest son.'32'Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,Where may my Margaret be?''She's just now standing at your yates,And my six brithers her wi.'33'O where are all my porter-boysThat I pay meat and fee,To open my yates baith wide and braid?Let her come in to me.'34When she came in before the king,Fell low down on her knee;'Win up, win up, my daughter dear,This day ye'll dine wi me.'35'Ae bit I canno eat, father,Nor ae drop can I drink,Till I see my mither and sister dear,For lang for them I think.'36When she came before the queen,Fell low down on her knee;'Win up, win up, my daughter dearThis day ye'se dine wi me.'37'Ae bit I canno eat, mither,Nor ae drop can I drink,Until I see my dear sister,For lang for her I think.'38When that these two sisters met,She haild her courteouslie;'Come ben, come ben, my sister dear,This day ye'se dine wi me.'39'Ae bit I canno eat, sister,Nor ae drop can I drink,Until I see my dear husband,For lang for him I think.'40'O where are all my rangers boldThat I pay meat and fee,To search the forest far an wide,And bring Akin to me?'41Out it speaks the little wee boy:Na, na, this maunna be;Without ye grant a free pardon,I hope ye'll nae him see.42'O here I grant a free pardon,Well seald by my own han;Ye may make search for Young Akin,As soon as ever you can.'43They searchd the country wide and braid,The forests far and near,And found him into Elmond's wood,Tearing his yellow hair.44'Win up, win up now, Young Akin,Win up, and boun wi me;We're messengers come from the court,The king wants you to see.'45'O lat him take frae me my head,Or hang me on a tree;For since I've lost my dear lady,Life's no pleasure to me.'46'Your head will nae be touchd, Akin,Nor hangd upon a tree;Your lady's in her father's court,And all he wants is thee.'47When he came in before the king,Fell low down on his knee;'Win up, win up now, Young Akin,This day ye'se dine wi me.'48But as they were at dinner set,The boy asked a boun:'I wish we were in the good church,For to get christendoun.49'We hae lived in guid green woodThis seven years and ane;But a' this time, since eer I mind,Was never a church within.'50'Your asking's nae sae great, my boy,But granted it shall be;This day to guid church ye shall gang,And your mither shall gang you wi.'51When unto the guid church she came,She at the door did stan;She was sae sair sunk down wi shame,She coudna come farer ben.52Then out it speaks the parish priest,And a sweet smile gae he:'Come ben, come ben, my lily flower,Present your babes to me.'53Charles, Vincent, Sam and Dick,And likewise James and John;They calld the eldest Young Akin,Which was his father's name.54Then they staid in the royal court,And livd wi mirth and glee,And when her father was deceasd,Heir of the crown was she.
1Lady Margaret sits in her bower door,Sewing at her silken seam;She heard a note in Elmond's wood,And wishd she there had been.
2She loot the seam fa frae her side,And the needle to her tae,And she is on to Elmond's woodAs fast as she coud gae.
3She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,Nor broken a branch but ane,Till by it came a young hind chiel,Says, Lady, lat alane.
4O why pu ye the nut, the nut,Or why brake ye the tree?For I am forester o this wood:Ye shoud spier leave at me.
5'I'll ask leave at no living man,Nor yet will I at thee;My father is king oer a' this realm,This wood belongs to me.'
6She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut,Nor broken a branch but three,Till by it came him Young Akin,And gard her lat them be.
7The highest tree in Elmond's wood,He's pu'd it by the reet,And he has built for her a bower,Near by a hallow seat.
8He's built a bower, made it secureWi carbuncle and stane;Tho travellers were never sae nigh,Appearance it had nane.
9He's kept her there in Elmond's wood,For six lang years and one,Till six pretty sons to him she bear,And the seventh she's brought home.
10It fell ance upon a day,This guid lord went from home,And he is to the hunting gane,Took wi him his eldest son.
11And when they were on a guid way,Wi slowly pace did walk,The boy's heart being something wae,He thus began to talk:
12'A question I woud ask, father,Gin ye woudna angry be:''Say on, say on, my bonny boy,Ye'se nae be quarrelld by me.'
13'I see my mither's cheeks aye weet,I never can see them dry;And I wonder what aileth my mither,To mourn continually.'
14'Your mither was a king's daughter,Sprung frae a high degree,And she might hae wed some worthy prince,Had she nae been stown by me.
15'I was her father's cup-bearer,Just at that fatal time;I catchd her on a misty night,Whan summer was in prime.
16'My luve to her was most sincere,Her luve was great for me,But when she hardships doth endure,Her folly she does see.'
17'I'll shoot the buntin o the bush,The linnet o the tree,And bring them to my dear mither,See if she'll merrier be.'
18It fell upo another day,This guid lord he thought lang,And he is to the hunting gane,Took wi him his dog and gun.
19Wi bow and arrow by his side,He's aff, single, alane,And left his seven children to stayWi their mither at hame.
20'O I will tell to you, mither,Gin ye wadna angry be:''Speak on, speak on, my little wee boy,Ye'se nae be quarrelld by me.'
21'As we came frae the hynd-hunting,We heard fine music ring:''My blessings on you, my bonny boy,I wish I'd been there my lane.'
22He's taen his mither by the hand,His six brithers also,And they are on thro Elmond's wood,As fast as they coud go.
23They wistna weel where they were gaen,Wi the stratlins o their feet;They wistna weel where they were gaen,Till at her father's yate.
24'I hae nae money in my pocket,But royal rings hae three;I'll gie them you, my little young son,And ye'll walk there for me.
25'Ye'll gie the first to the proud porter,And he will lat you in;Ye'll gie the next to the butler-boy,And he will show you ben;
26'Ye'll gie the third to the minstrelThat plays before the king;He'll play success to the bonny boyCame thro the wood him lane.'
27He gae the first to the proud porter,And he opend an let him in;He gae the next to the butler-boy,And he has shown him ben;
28He gae the third to the minstrelThat playd before the king;And he playd success to the bonny boyCame thro the wood him lane.
29Now when he came before the king,Fell low down on his knee;The king he turned round about,And the saut tear blinded his ee.
30'Win up, win up, my bonny boy,Gang frae my companie;Ye look sae like my dear daughter,My heart will birst in three.'
31'If I look like your dear daughter,A wonder it is none;If I look like your dear daughter,I am her eldest son.'
32'Will ye tell me, ye little wee boy,Where may my Margaret be?''She's just now standing at your yates,And my six brithers her wi.'
33'O where are all my porter-boysThat I pay meat and fee,To open my yates baith wide and braid?Let her come in to me.'
34When she came in before the king,Fell low down on her knee;'Win up, win up, my daughter dear,This day ye'll dine wi me.'
35'Ae bit I canno eat, father,Nor ae drop can I drink,Till I see my mither and sister dear,For lang for them I think.'
36When she came before the queen,Fell low down on her knee;'Win up, win up, my daughter dearThis day ye'se dine wi me.'
37'Ae bit I canno eat, mither,Nor ae drop can I drink,Until I see my dear sister,For lang for her I think.'
38When that these two sisters met,She haild her courteouslie;'Come ben, come ben, my sister dear,This day ye'se dine wi me.'
39'Ae bit I canno eat, sister,Nor ae drop can I drink,Until I see my dear husband,For lang for him I think.'
40'O where are all my rangers boldThat I pay meat and fee,To search the forest far an wide,And bring Akin to me?'
41Out it speaks the little wee boy:Na, na, this maunna be;Without ye grant a free pardon,I hope ye'll nae him see.
42'O here I grant a free pardon,Well seald by my own han;Ye may make search for Young Akin,As soon as ever you can.'
43They searchd the country wide and braid,The forests far and near,And found him into Elmond's wood,Tearing his yellow hair.
44'Win up, win up now, Young Akin,Win up, and boun wi me;We're messengers come from the court,The king wants you to see.'
45'O lat him take frae me my head,Or hang me on a tree;For since I've lost my dear lady,Life's no pleasure to me.'
46'Your head will nae be touchd, Akin,Nor hangd upon a tree;Your lady's in her father's court,And all he wants is thee.'
47When he came in before the king,Fell low down on his knee;'Win up, win up now, Young Akin,This day ye'se dine wi me.'
48But as they were at dinner set,The boy asked a boun:'I wish we were in the good church,For to get christendoun.
49'We hae lived in guid green woodThis seven years and ane;But a' this time, since eer I mind,Was never a church within.'
50'Your asking's nae sae great, my boy,But granted it shall be;This day to guid church ye shall gang,And your mither shall gang you wi.'
51When unto the guid church she came,She at the door did stan;She was sae sair sunk down wi shame,She coudna come farer ben.
52Then out it speaks the parish priest,And a sweet smile gae he:'Come ben, come ben, my lily flower,Present your babes to me.'
53Charles, Vincent, Sam and Dick,And likewise James and John;They calld the eldest Young Akin,Which was his father's name.
54Then they staid in the royal court,And livd wi mirth and glee,And when her father was deceasd,Heir of the crown was she.