C.

Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 228.

1May Margret stood in her bouer door,Kaiming doun her yellow hair;She spied some nuts growin in the wud,And wishd that she was there.2She has plaited her yellow locksA little abune her bree,And she has kilted her petticoatsA little below her knee,And she's aff to Mulberry wud,As fast as she could gae.3She had na pu'd a nut, a nut,A nut but barely ane,Till up started the Hynde Etin,Says, Lady, let thae alane!4'Mulberry wuds are a' my ain;My father gied them me,To sport and play when I thought lang;And they sall na be tane by thee.'5And ae she pu'd the tither berrie,Na thinking o' the skaith,And said, To wrang ye, Hynde Etin,I wad be unco laith.6But he has tane her by the yellow locks,And tied her till a tree,And said, For slichting my commands,An ill death sall ye dree.7He pu'd a tree out o the wud,The biggest that was there,And he howkit a cave monie fathoms deep,And put May Margret there.8'Now rest ye there, ye saucie may;My wuds are free for thee;And gif I tak ye to mysell,The better ye'll like me.'9Na rest, na rest May Margret took,Sleep she got never nane;Her back lay on the cauld, cauld floor,Her head upon a stane.10'O tak me out,' May Margret cried,'O tak me hame to thee,And I sall be your bounden pageUntil the day I dee.'11He took her out o the dungeon deep,And awa wi him she's gane;But sad was the day an earl's dochterGaed hame wi Hynde Etin.* * * * *12It fell out ance upon a dayHynde Etin's to the hunting gane,And he has tane wi him his eldest son,For to carry his game.13'O I wad ask ye something, father,An ye wadna angry be;''Ask on, ask on, my eldest son,Ask onie thing at me.'14'My mother's cheeks are aft times weet,Alas! they are seldom dry;''Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son,Tho she should brast and die.15'For your mother was an earl's dochter,Of noble birth and fame,And now she's wife o Hynde Etin,Wha neer got christendame.16'But we'll shoot the laverock in the lift,The buntlin on the tree,And ye'll tak them hame to your mother,And see if she'll comforted be.'* * * * *17'I wad ask ye something, mother,An ye wadna angry be;''Ask on, ask on, my eldest son,Ask onie thing at me.'18'Your cheeks they are aft times weet,Alas! they're seldom dry;''Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son,Tho I should brast and die.19'For I was ance an earl's dochter,Of noble birth and fame,And now I am the wife of Hynde Etin,Wha neer got christendame.'* * * * *

1May Margret stood in her bouer door,Kaiming doun her yellow hair;She spied some nuts growin in the wud,And wishd that she was there.

2She has plaited her yellow locksA little abune her bree,And she has kilted her petticoatsA little below her knee,And she's aff to Mulberry wud,As fast as she could gae.

3She had na pu'd a nut, a nut,A nut but barely ane,Till up started the Hynde Etin,Says, Lady, let thae alane!

4'Mulberry wuds are a' my ain;My father gied them me,To sport and play when I thought lang;And they sall na be tane by thee.'

5And ae she pu'd the tither berrie,Na thinking o' the skaith,And said, To wrang ye, Hynde Etin,I wad be unco laith.

6But he has tane her by the yellow locks,And tied her till a tree,And said, For slichting my commands,An ill death sall ye dree.

7He pu'd a tree out o the wud,The biggest that was there,And he howkit a cave monie fathoms deep,And put May Margret there.

8'Now rest ye there, ye saucie may;My wuds are free for thee;And gif I tak ye to mysell,The better ye'll like me.'

9Na rest, na rest May Margret took,Sleep she got never nane;Her back lay on the cauld, cauld floor,Her head upon a stane.

10'O tak me out,' May Margret cried,'O tak me hame to thee,And I sall be your bounden pageUntil the day I dee.'

11He took her out o the dungeon deep,And awa wi him she's gane;But sad was the day an earl's dochterGaed hame wi Hynde Etin.

* * * * *

12It fell out ance upon a dayHynde Etin's to the hunting gane,And he has tane wi him his eldest son,For to carry his game.

13'O I wad ask ye something, father,An ye wadna angry be;''Ask on, ask on, my eldest son,Ask onie thing at me.'

14'My mother's cheeks are aft times weet,Alas! they are seldom dry;''Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son,Tho she should brast and die.

15'For your mother was an earl's dochter,Of noble birth and fame,And now she's wife o Hynde Etin,Wha neer got christendame.

16'But we'll shoot the laverock in the lift,The buntlin on the tree,And ye'll tak them hame to your mother,And see if she'll comforted be.'

* * * * *

17'I wad ask ye something, mother,An ye wadna angry be;''Ask on, ask on, my eldest son,Ask onie thing at me.'

18'Your cheeks they are aft times weet,Alas! they're seldom dry;''Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son,Tho I should brast and die.

19'For I was ance an earl's dochter,Of noble birth and fame,And now I am the wife of Hynde Etin,Wha neer got christendame.'

* * * * *

Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 67, communicated by Mr James Nicol, of Strichen; Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 287; Motherwell's MS., p. 450.

1'O well like I to ride in a mist,And shoot in a northern win,And far better a lady to steal,That's come of a noble kin.'2Four an twenty fair ladiesPut on this lady's sheen,And as mony young gentlemenDid lead her ower the green.3Yet she preferred before them allHim, young Hastings the Groom;He's coosten a mist before them all,And away this lady has taen.4He's taken the lady on him behind,Spared neither grass nor corn,Till they came to the wood o Amonshaw,Where again their loves were sworn.5And they hae lived in that woodFull mony a year and day,And were supported from time to timeBy what he made of prey.6And seven bairns, fair and fine,There she has born to him,And never was in gude church-door,Nor ever got gude kirking.7Ance she took harp into her hand,And harped them a' asleep,Then she sat down at their couch-side,And bitterly did weep.8Said, Seven bairns hae I born nowTo my lord in the ha;I wish they were seven greedy rats,To run upon the wa,And I mysel a great grey cat,To eat them ane and a'.9For ten lang years now I hae livedWithin this cave of stane,And never was at gude church-door,Nor got no gude churching.10O then out spake her eldest child,And a fine boy was he:O hold your tongue, my mother dear;I'll tell you what to dee.11Take you the youngest in your lap,The next youngest by the hand,Put all the rest of us you before,As you learnt us to gang.12And go with us unto some kirk—You say they are built of stane—And let us all be christened,And you get gude kirking.13She took the youngest in her lap,The next youngest by the hand,Set all the rest of them her before,As she learnt them to gang.14And she has left the wood with them,And to the kirk has gane,Where the gude priest them christened,And gave her gude kirking.

1'O well like I to ride in a mist,And shoot in a northern win,And far better a lady to steal,That's come of a noble kin.'

2Four an twenty fair ladiesPut on this lady's sheen,And as mony young gentlemenDid lead her ower the green.

3Yet she preferred before them allHim, young Hastings the Groom;He's coosten a mist before them all,And away this lady has taen.

4He's taken the lady on him behind,Spared neither grass nor corn,Till they came to the wood o Amonshaw,Where again their loves were sworn.

5And they hae lived in that woodFull mony a year and day,And were supported from time to timeBy what he made of prey.

6And seven bairns, fair and fine,There she has born to him,And never was in gude church-door,Nor ever got gude kirking.

7Ance she took harp into her hand,And harped them a' asleep,Then she sat down at their couch-side,And bitterly did weep.

8Said, Seven bairns hae I born nowTo my lord in the ha;I wish they were seven greedy rats,To run upon the wa,And I mysel a great grey cat,To eat them ane and a'.

9For ten lang years now I hae livedWithin this cave of stane,And never was at gude church-door,Nor got no gude churching.

10O then out spake her eldest child,And a fine boy was he:O hold your tongue, my mother dear;I'll tell you what to dee.

11Take you the youngest in your lap,The next youngest by the hand,Put all the rest of us you before,As you learnt us to gang.

12And go with us unto some kirk—You say they are built of stane—And let us all be christened,And you get gude kirking.

13She took the youngest in her lap,The next youngest by the hand,Set all the rest of them her before,As she learnt them to gang.

14And she has left the wood with them,And to the kirk has gane,Where the gude priest them christened,And gave her gude kirking.

C.Motherwell's copies exhibit five or six slight variations from Buchan.

FOOTNOTES:[334]This reading,nuts, may have subsequently made its way intoAinstead ofrose, which it would be more ballad-like for Margaret to be plucking, as the maid does in 'Tam Lin,' where also the passageA3-6,B2-4 occurs. Grimm suggests a parallel to Tam Lin in the dwarf Laurin, who does not allow trespassing in his rose-garden: Deutsche Mythologie, III, 130. But the resemblance seems not material, there being no woman in the case. The pretence of trespass in Tam Lin and Hind Etin is a simple commonplace, and we have it in some Slavic forms of No 4, as at p. 41.[335]Bis defective in the middle and the end. "The reciter, unfortunately, could not remember more of the ballad, although the story was strongly impressed on her memory. She related that the lady, after having been taken home by Hynde Etin, lived with him many years, and bore him seven sons, the eldest of whom, after the inquiries at his parents detailed in the ballad, determines to go in search of the earl, his grandfather. At his departure his mother instructs him how to proceed, giving him a ring to bribe the porter at her father's gate, and a silken vest, wrought by her own hand, to be worn in presence of her father. The son sets out, and arrives at the castle, where, by bribing the porter, he gets admission to the earl, who, struck with the resemblance of the youth to his lost daughter, and the similarity of the vest to one she had wrought for himself, examines the young man, from whom he discovers the fate of his daughter. He gladly receives his grandson, and goes to his daughter's residence, where he meets her and Hynde Etin, who is pardoned by the earl, through the intercession of his daughter." Kinloch, Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 226 f.[336]B, Landstad 44 (which has only this in common with the Scottish ballad, that a hill-man carries a maid to his cave), has much resemblance at the beginning to 'Kvindemorderen,' Grundtvig, No 183, our No 4. See Grundtvig's note ** at III, 810. This is only what might be looked for, since both ballads deal with abductions.[337]It is not necessary, for purposes of the English ballad, to notice these mixed forms.[338]In 'Nøkkens Svig,'C, Grundtvig, No 39, the merman consults with his mother, and then, as also in other copies of the ballad, transforms himself into a knight. See the translation by Prior, III, 269; Jamieson, Popular Ballads, I, 210; Lewis, Tales of Wonder, I, 60.[339]The beauty of the Norse ballads should make an Englishman's heart wring for his loss. They are particularly pretty here, where the forgetful draught is administered; as NorwegianC,A:Forth came her daughter, as jimp as a wand,She dances a dance, with silver can in hand.'O where wast thou bred, and where wast thou born?And where were thy maiden-garments shorn?''In Norway was I bred, in Norway was I born,And in Norway were my maiden-garments shorn.'The ae first drink from the silver can she drank,What stock she was come of she clean forgat.'O where wast thou bred, and where wast thou born?And where were thy maiden-garments shorn?''In the hill was I bred, and there was I born,In the hill were my maiden-garments shorn.'[340]For reasons, doubtless sufficient, but to me unknown, Grundtvig has not noticed two copies in Boisen's Nye og gamle Viser, 10th edition, p. 192, p. 194. The former of these is likeA, with more resemblance here and there to other versions, and may be a made-up copy; the other, 'Agnete og Bjærgmanden, fra Sønderjylland,' consists of stanzas 1-5 ofC.[341]See five versions in Mittler, Nos 546-550. As Grundtvig remarks, what is one ballad in Wendish is two in German and three in Norse:D. g.F., IV, 810.[342]This trait, corresponding to the prohibition in the Norse ballads of bowing when the holy name is pronounced, occurs frequently in tradition, as might be expected. In a Swedish merman-ballad, 'Necken,' Afzelius, III, 133, the nix, who has attended to church the lady whom he is about to kidnap, makes off with his best speed when the priest reads the benediction. See, further, Árnason's Íslenzkar þjóðsögur, I, 73 f; Maurer's Isländische Volksagen, 19 f; Liebrecht, Gervasius, p. 26, LVII, and p. 126, note (Grundtvig).[343]The merfolk are apt to be ferocious, as compared with hill-people, elves, etc. See Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, I, 409 f.[344]I 79, of a second edition, which, says Vraz, has an objectionable fantastic spelling due to the publisher.

[334]This reading,nuts, may have subsequently made its way intoAinstead ofrose, which it would be more ballad-like for Margaret to be plucking, as the maid does in 'Tam Lin,' where also the passageA3-6,B2-4 occurs. Grimm suggests a parallel to Tam Lin in the dwarf Laurin, who does not allow trespassing in his rose-garden: Deutsche Mythologie, III, 130. But the resemblance seems not material, there being no woman in the case. The pretence of trespass in Tam Lin and Hind Etin is a simple commonplace, and we have it in some Slavic forms of No 4, as at p. 41.

[335]Bis defective in the middle and the end. "The reciter, unfortunately, could not remember more of the ballad, although the story was strongly impressed on her memory. She related that the lady, after having been taken home by Hynde Etin, lived with him many years, and bore him seven sons, the eldest of whom, after the inquiries at his parents detailed in the ballad, determines to go in search of the earl, his grandfather. At his departure his mother instructs him how to proceed, giving him a ring to bribe the porter at her father's gate, and a silken vest, wrought by her own hand, to be worn in presence of her father. The son sets out, and arrives at the castle, where, by bribing the porter, he gets admission to the earl, who, struck with the resemblance of the youth to his lost daughter, and the similarity of the vest to one she had wrought for himself, examines the young man, from whom he discovers the fate of his daughter. He gladly receives his grandson, and goes to his daughter's residence, where he meets her and Hynde Etin, who is pardoned by the earl, through the intercession of his daughter." Kinloch, Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 226 f.

[336]B, Landstad 44 (which has only this in common with the Scottish ballad, that a hill-man carries a maid to his cave), has much resemblance at the beginning to 'Kvindemorderen,' Grundtvig, No 183, our No 4. See Grundtvig's note ** at III, 810. This is only what might be looked for, since both ballads deal with abductions.

[337]It is not necessary, for purposes of the English ballad, to notice these mixed forms.

[338]In 'Nøkkens Svig,'C, Grundtvig, No 39, the merman consults with his mother, and then, as also in other copies of the ballad, transforms himself into a knight. See the translation by Prior, III, 269; Jamieson, Popular Ballads, I, 210; Lewis, Tales of Wonder, I, 60.

[339]The beauty of the Norse ballads should make an Englishman's heart wring for his loss. They are particularly pretty here, where the forgetful draught is administered; as NorwegianC,A:Forth came her daughter, as jimp as a wand,She dances a dance, with silver can in hand.'O where wast thou bred, and where wast thou born?And where were thy maiden-garments shorn?''In Norway was I bred, in Norway was I born,And in Norway were my maiden-garments shorn.'The ae first drink from the silver can she drank,What stock she was come of she clean forgat.'O where wast thou bred, and where wast thou born?And where were thy maiden-garments shorn?''In the hill was I bred, and there was I born,In the hill were my maiden-garments shorn.'

[339]The beauty of the Norse ballads should make an Englishman's heart wring for his loss. They are particularly pretty here, where the forgetful draught is administered; as NorwegianC,A:

Forth came her daughter, as jimp as a wand,She dances a dance, with silver can in hand.'O where wast thou bred, and where wast thou born?And where were thy maiden-garments shorn?''In Norway was I bred, in Norway was I born,And in Norway were my maiden-garments shorn.'The ae first drink from the silver can she drank,What stock she was come of she clean forgat.'O where wast thou bred, and where wast thou born?And where were thy maiden-garments shorn?''In the hill was I bred, and there was I born,In the hill were my maiden-garments shorn.'

[340]For reasons, doubtless sufficient, but to me unknown, Grundtvig has not noticed two copies in Boisen's Nye og gamle Viser, 10th edition, p. 192, p. 194. The former of these is likeA, with more resemblance here and there to other versions, and may be a made-up copy; the other, 'Agnete og Bjærgmanden, fra Sønderjylland,' consists of stanzas 1-5 ofC.

[341]See five versions in Mittler, Nos 546-550. As Grundtvig remarks, what is one ballad in Wendish is two in German and three in Norse:D. g.F., IV, 810.

[342]This trait, corresponding to the prohibition in the Norse ballads of bowing when the holy name is pronounced, occurs frequently in tradition, as might be expected. In a Swedish merman-ballad, 'Necken,' Afzelius, III, 133, the nix, who has attended to church the lady whom he is about to kidnap, makes off with his best speed when the priest reads the benediction. See, further, Árnason's Íslenzkar þjóðsögur, I, 73 f; Maurer's Isländische Volksagen, 19 f; Liebrecht, Gervasius, p. 26, LVII, and p. 126, note (Grundtvig).

[343]The merfolk are apt to be ferocious, as compared with hill-people, elves, etc. See Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, I, 409 f.

[344]I 79, of a second edition, which, says Vraz, has an objectionable fantastic spelling due to the publisher.

A.'Clark Colven,' from a transcript of No 13 of William Tytler's Brown MS.B.'Clerk Colvill, or, The Mermaid,' Herd's Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 302.C.W. F. in Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, VIII, 510, from the recitation of a lady in Forfarshire.

A.'Clark Colven,' from a transcript of No 13 of William Tytler's Brown MS.

B.'Clerk Colvill, or, The Mermaid,' Herd's Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 302.

C.W. F. in Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, VIII, 510, from the recitation of a lady in Forfarshire.

Although, as has been already said, William Tytler's Brown manuscript is now not to be found, a copy of two of its fifteen ballads has been preserved in the Fraser Tytler family,and 'Clerk Colvill,'A('Clark Colven') is one of the two.[345]This ballad is not in Jamieson's Brown manuscript. Rewritten by Lewis,Awas published in Tales of Wonder, 1801, II, 445, No 56.B, 1769, is the earliest printed English copy, but a corresponding Danish ballad antedates its publication by seventy-five years. OfC, W. F., who communicated it to Notes and Queries, says: "I have reason to believe that it is originally from the same source as that from which Scott, and especially Jamieson, derived many of their best ballads." This source should be no other than Mrs Brown, who certainly may have known two versions of Clerk Colvill; butCis markedly different fromA. An Abbotsford manuscript, entitled "Scottish Songs," has, at fol. 3, a version which appears to have been made up from Lewis's copy, its original,A, and Herd's,B.

All the English versions are deplorably imperfect, andCis corrupted, besides. The story which they afford is this. Clerk Colvill, newly married as we may infer, is solemnly entreated by his gay lady never to go near a well-fared may who haunts a certain spring or water. It is clear that before his marriage he had been in the habit of resorting to this mermaid, as she is afterwards called, and equally clear, from the impatient answer which he renders his dame, that he means to visit her again. His coming is hailed with pleasure by the mermaid, who, in the course of their interview, does something which gives him a strange pain in the head,—a pain only increased by a prescription which she pretends will cure it, and, as she then exultingly tells him, sure to grow worse until he is dead. He draws his sword on her, but she merrily springs into the water. He mounts his horse, rides home tristful, alights heavily, and bids his mother make his bed, for all is over with him.

Cis at the beginning blended with verses which belong to 'Willie and May Margaret,' Jamieson, I, 135 (from Mrs Brown's recitation), or 'The Drowned Lovers,' Buchan, I, 140. In this ballad a mother adjures her son not to go wooing, under pain of her curse. He goes, nevertheless, and is drowned. It is obvious, without remark, that the band and belt inC1 do not suit the mother; neither does the phrase 'love Colin' in the second stanza.[346]C9-11 afford an important variation from the other versions. The mermaid appears at the foot of the young man's bed, and offers him a choice between dying then and living with her in the water. (See the Norwegian ballads at p. 377.)

Clerk Colvill is not, as his representative is or may be in other ballads, the guiltless and guileless object of the love or envy of a water-sprite or elf. His relations with the mermaid began before his marriage with his gay lady, and his death is the natural penalty of his desertion of the water-nymph; for no point is better established than the fatal consequences of inconstancy in such connections.[347]His history, were it fully told, would closely resemble that of the Knight of Staufenberg, as narrated in a German poem of about the year 1300.[348]

The already very distinguished chevalier, Peter Diemringer, of Staufenberg (in the Ortenau, Baden, four leagues from Strassburg), when riding to mass one Whitsunday, saw a lady of surpassing beauty, dressed with equal magnificence, sitting on a rock by the wayside. He became instantaneously enamored, and, greeting the lady in terms expressive of his admiration, received no discouraging reply. The lady rose; the knight sprang from his horse, took a hand which she offered, helped her from the rock, and they sat down on the grass. The knight asked how she came to be there alone. The lady replied that she had been waiting for him: ever since he could bestride a horse she had been devoted to him; she had been his help and protection in tourneys and fights, in all climes and regions, though he had never seen her. The knight wished he might ever be hers. He could have his wish, she said, and never know trouble or sickness, on one condition, and that was that he never should marry: if he did this, he would die in three days. He vowed to be hers as long as he lived; they exchanged kisses, and then she bade him mount his horse and go to mass. After the benediction he was to return home, and when he was alone in his chamber, and wished for her, she would come, and so always; that privilege God had given her: "swâ ich wil, dâ bin ich." They had their meeting when he returned from church: he redoubled his vows, she promised him all good things, and the bounties which he received from her overflowed upon all his friends and comrades.

The knight now undertook a chivalrous tour, to see such parts of the world as he had not visited before. Wherever he went, the fair lady had only to be wished for and she was by him: there was no bound to her love or her gifts. Upon his return he was beset by relatives and friends, and urged to marry. He put them off with excuses: he was too young to sacrifice his freedom, and what not. They returned to the charge before long, and set a wise man of his kindred at him to beg a boon of him. "Anything," he said, "but marrying: rather cut me into strips than that." Having silenced his advisers by this reply, he went to his closet and wished for his lady. She was full of sympathy, and thought it might make his position a little easier if he should tell his officious friends something of the real case, how he had a wife who attended him wherever he went and was the source of all his prosperity; but he must not let them persuade him, or what she had predicted would surely come to pass.

At this time a king was to be chosen at Frankfurt, and all the nobility flocked thither, and among them Staufenberg, with a splendid train. He, as usual, was first in all tourneys, and made himself remarked for his liberal gifts and his generous consideration of youthful antagonists: his praise was in everybody's mouth. The king sent for him, and offered him an orphan niece of eighteen, with a rich dowry. The knight excused himself as unworthy of such a match. The king said his niece must accept such a husband as he pleased to give, and many swore that Staufenberg was a fool. Bishops, who were there in plenty, asked him if he had a wife already. Staufenberg availed himself of the leave which had been given him, and told his whole story, not omitting that he was sure to die in three days if he married. "Let me see the woman," said one of the bishops. "She lets nobody see her but me," answered Staufenberg. "Then it is a devil," said another of the clergy, "and your soul is lost forever." Staufenberg yielded, and said he would do the king's will. He was betrothed that very hour, and set out for Ortenau, where he had appointed the celebration of the nuptials. When night came he wished for the invisible lady. She appeared, and told him with all gentleness that he must prepare for the fate of which she had forewarned him, a fate seemingly inevitable, and not the consequence of her resentment. At the wedding feast she would display her foot in sight of all the guests: when he saw that, let him send for the priest. The knight thought of what the clergy had said, and that this might be a cheat of the devil. The bride was brought to Staufenberg, the feast was held, but at the very beginning of it a foot whiter than ivory was seen through the ceiling. Staufenberg tore his hair and cried, Friends, ye have ruinedyourselves and me! He begged his bride and all who had come with her to the wedding to stay for his funeral, ordered a bed to be prepared for him and a priest to be sent for. He asked his brothers to give his bride all that he had promised her. But she said no; his friends should rather have all that she had brought; she would have no other husband, and since she had been the cause of his death she would go into a cloister, where no eye should see her: which she did after she had returned to her own country.

A superscription to the old poem denominates Staufenberg's amphibious consort a mer-fey, sea-fairy; but that description is not to be strictly interpreted, no more than mer-fey, or fata morgana, is in some other romantic tales. There is nothing of the water-sprite in her, nor is she spoken of by any such name in the poem itself. The local legends of sixty years ago,[349]and perhaps still, make her to have been a proper water-nymph. She is first met with by the young knight near a spring or a brook, and it is in a piece of water that he finds his death, and that on the evening of his wedding day.

Clerk Colvill and the mermaid are represented by Sir Oluf and an elf in Scandinavian ballads to the number of about seventy. The oldest of these is derived from a Danish manuscript of 1550, two centuries and a half later than the Staufenberg poem, but two earlier than Clerk Colvill, the oldest ballad outside of the Scandinavian series. Five other versions are of the date 1700, or earlier, the rest from tradition of this century. No ballad has received more attention from the heroic Danish editor, whose study of 'Elveskud' presents an admirably ordered synoptic view of all the versions known up to 1881: Grundtvig, No 47, II, 109-19, 663-66; III, 824-25; IV, 835-74.[350]

The Scandinavian versions are:

Färöe, four:A, 39 sts,B, 24 sts,C, 18 sts,D, 23 sts, Grundtvig, IV, 849-52.

Icelandic, twelve, differing slightly except at the very end:A, 'Kvæði af Ólafi Liljurós,' 24 sts, MS. of 1665;B,C, MS. of about 1700, 20 sts, 1 st.;D, 18 sts;E, 17 sts;F,G, 16 sts;H, 'Ólafs kvæði,' 22 sts;I a, 18 sts;I b, 20 sts;K, 22 sts;L, 24 sts;M, 25 sts. These in Íslenzk fornkvæði, pp 4-10,A ain full, but only the variations of the other versions.I b, previously, 'Ólafur og álfamær,' Berggreen, Danske Folke-Sange og Melodier, 2d ed., pp 56, 57, No 20 d; andM, "Snót, p. 200."

Danish, twenty-six: 'Elveskud'A, 54 sts, MS. of 1550, Grundtvig, II, 112;B, 25 sts, Syv No 87 (1695), Danske Viser, I, 237, Grundtvig, II, 114;C, 29 sts, the same, II, 115;D a,D b, 31, 15 sts, II, 116, 665;E-G, 20, 16, 8 sts, II, 117-19;H,I, 32, 25 sts, II, 663-64;K, 29 sts,L, 15 sts,M, 27 sts,N, 16 sts,O, 33 sts,P, 22 sts,Q, 7 sts,R, 22 sts,S, 32 sts,T, 27 sts,U, 25 sts,V, 18 sts,X, 11 sts,Y, 11 sts,Z, 8 sts,Æ, 23 sts, IV, 835-47;Ø, 10 sts, Boisen, Nye og gamle Viser, 1875, p. 191, No 98.

Swedish, eight:A, 15 sts, 'Elf-Qvinnan och Herr Olof,' MS. of seventeenth century, Afzelius, III, 165;B, 12 sts, 'Herr Olof i Elfvornas dans,' Afzelius, III, 160;C, 18 sts, Afzelius, III, 162;D, 21 sts, 'Herr Olof och Elfvorna,' Arwidsson, II, 304;E, 20 sts, Arwidsson, II, 307;F, 19 sts, Grundtvig, IV, 848;G, 12 sts, 'Herr Olof och Elffrun,' Djurklou, p. 94;H, 8 sts, Afzelius, Sago-Häfder, ed. 1844, ii, 157.

Norwegian, eighteen:A, 39 sts, 'Olaf Liljukrans,' Landstad, p. 355;B, 15 sts, Landstad, p. 843;C-S, collections of Professor Bugge, used in manuscript by Grundtvig;C, 36 sts, partly printed in Grundtvig, III, 824;D, 23 sts, Grundtvig, III, 824-25, partly;E, 22 sts;F, 11 sts;G, 27 sts;H, 13 sts;I, 7 sts;K, 4 sts, two printed,ib., p. 824.[351]

Of these the Färöe versions are nearest to the English. Olaf's mother asks him whither he means to ride; his corselet is hanging inthe loft;A,C,D. "I am going to the heath, to course the hind," he says. "You are not going to course the hind; you are going to your leman. White is your shirt, well is it washed, but bloody shall it be when it is taken off,"A,D. "God grant it be not as she bodes!" exclaims Olaf, as he turns from his mother,A. He rides to the hills and comes to an elf-house. An elf comes out, braiding her hair, and invites him to dance. "You need not braid your hair for me; I have not come a-wooing," he says. "I must quit the company of elves, for to-morrow is my bridal." "If you will have no more to do with elves, a sick bridegroom shall you be! Would you rather lie seven years in a sick-bed, or go to the mould to-morrow?" He would rather go to the mould to-morrow. The elf brought him a drink, with an atter-corn, a poison grain, floating in it: at the first draught his belt burstA,B*. "Kiss me," she said, "before you ride." He leaned over and kissed her, though little mind had he to it: she was beguiling him, him so sick a man. His mother came out to meet him: "Why are you so pale, as if you had been in an elf-dance?" "I have been in an elf-dance," he said,[352]went to bed, turned his face to the wall, and was dead before midnight. His mother and his love (moy, vív) died thereupon.

Distinct evidence of previous converse with elves is lacking in the Icelandic versions. Olaf rides along the cliffs, and comes upon an elf-house. One elf comes out with her hair twined with gold, another with a silver tankard, a third in a silver belt, and a fourth welcomes him by name. "Come into the booth and drink with us." "I will not live with elves," says Olaf; "rather will I believe in God." The elf answers that he might do both, excuses herself for a moment, and comes back in a cloak, which hides a sword. "You shall not go without giving us a kiss," she says. Olaf leans over his saddle-bow and kisses her, with but half a heart, and she thrusts the sword under his shoulder-blade into the roots of his heart. He sees his heart's blood under his horse's feet, and spurs home to his mother. "Whence comest thou, my son, and why so pale, as if thou hadst been in an elf-dance (leik)?" "It boots not to hide it from thee: an elf has beguiled me. Make my bed, mother; bandage my side, sister." He dies presently: there was more mourning than mirth; three were borne to the grave together.

Nearly all the Danish and Swedish versions, and a good number of the Norwegian, interpose an affecting scene between the death of the hero and that of his bride and his mother. The bride, on her way to Olaf's house, and on her arrival, is disconcerted and alarmed by several ominous proceedings or circumstances. She hears bells tolling; sees people weeping; sees men come and go, but not the bridegroom. She is put off for a time with false explanations, but in the end discovers the awful fact. Such a passage occurs in the oldest Danish copy, which is also the oldest known copy of the ballad. The importance of this version is such that the story requires to be given with some detail.

Oluf rode out before dawn, but it seemed to him bright as day.[353]He rode to a hill where dwarfs were dancing. A maid stepped out from the dance, put her arm round his neck, and asked him whither he would ride. "To talk with my true-love," said he. "But first," said she, "you must dance with us." She then went on to make him great offers if he would plight himself to her: a horse that would go to Rome and back in an hour, and a gold saddle for it; a new corselet, having which he never need fly from man; a sword such, as never was used in war. Such were all her benches as if gold were laid in links, and suchwere all her drawbridges as the gold on his hands. "Keep your gold," he answered; "I will go home to my true-love." She struck him on the cheek, so that the blood spattered his coat; she struck him midshoulders, so that he fell to the ground: "Stand up, Oluf, and ride home; you shall not live more than a day." He turned his horse, and rode home a shattered man. His mother was at the gate: "Why comest thou home so sad?" "Dear mother, take my horse; dear brother, fetch a priest," "Say not so, Oluf; many a sick man does not die. To whom do you give your betrothed?" "Rise, my seven brothers, and ride to meet my young bride."

As the bride's train came near the town, they heard the bells going. "Why is this?" she asked, her heart already heavy with pain; "I know of no one having been sick." They told her it was a custom there to receive a bride so. But when she entered the house, all the women were weeping. "Why are these ladies weeping?" No one durst answer a word. The bride went on into the hall, and took her place on the bride-bench. "I see," she said, "knights go and come, but I see not my lord Oluf." The mother answered, Oluf is gone to the wood with hawk and hound. "Does he care more for hawk and hound than for his young bride?"

At evening they lighted the torches as if to conduct the bride to the bride-bed; but Oluf's page, who followed his lady, revealed the truth on the way. "My lord," he said, "lies on his bier above, and you are to give your troth to his brother." "Never shalt thou see that day that I shall give my troth to two brothers." She begged the ladies that she might see the dead. They opened the door; she ran to the bier, threw back the cloth, kissed the body precipitately; her heart broke in pieces; grievous was it to see.

DanishB, printed by Syv in 1695, is the copy by which the ballad of the Elf-shot has become so extensively known since Herder's time, through his translation and others.[354]

The principal variations of the Scandinavian ballads, so far as they have not been given, now remain to be noted.

The hero's name is mostly Oluf, Ole, or a modification of this, Wolle, Rolig, Volder; sometimes with an appendage, as Färöe Ólavur Riddararós, Rósinkrans, Icelandic Ólafur Liljurós, Norwegian Olaf Liljukrans, etc. It is Peder in DanishH,I,O,P,Q,R,Æ.

Excepting the Färöe ballads, Oluf is not distinctly represented as having had previous acquaintance with the elves. In SwedishA5 he says, I cannot dance with you, my betrothed has forbidden me; in DanishC, I should be very glad if I could; to-morrow is my wedding-day.

The object of his riding out is to hunt, or the like, in DanishD b,E,F,I,R,T,X,Y; to bid guests to his wedding, DanishB,C,D a,G,H,K-N,P,S,U,V,Ø, NorwegianA,B.

He falls in with dwarfs, DanishA,H, NorwegianA; trolds, DanishI; elves and dwarfs, NorwegianB, and a variation ofA: elsewhere it is elves.

There is naturally some diversity in the gifts which the elf offers Oluf in order to induce him to dance with her. He more commonly replies that the offer is a handsome one, 'kan jeg vel få,' but dance with her he cannot; sometimes that his true-love has already given him that, or two, three, seven such, DanishD a,I,T,X,Y.

If he will not dance with her, the elf threatens him with sore sickness, DanishB,E,H,Z,Ø, NorwegianA, SwedishE,F; a great misfortune, DanishF, SwedishA; sharp knives, DanishP; it shall cost him his young life, DanishD a, b,T,Y.

Oluf dances with the elves, obviously under compulsion, in DanishC,D,G-N,S,T,U,X,Y, SwedishF, and only in these. He dances tillboth his boots are full of blood,D a15,D b4,G5,I11,K5,L5,M6,N7,S6 [shoes],T10,U5,X8,Y7; he dances so long that he is nigh dead,I12.

The hard choice between dying at once or lying sick seven years is found, out of the Färöe ballads, only in DanishH8,M8,O4,Q2,S8. Norwegian ballads, like EnglishC, present an option between living with elves and dying, essentially a repetition of the terms under which Peter of Staufenberg weds the fairy, that he shall forfeit his life if he takes a mortal wife. So Norwegian

12Whether wilt thou rather live with the elves,Or leave the elves, a sick man?13Whether wilt thou be with the elves,Or bid thy guests and be sick?

12Whether wilt thou rather live with the elves,Or leave the elves, a sick man?

13Whether wilt thou be with the elves,Or bid thy guests and be sick?

9Whether wilt thou stay with the elves,Or, a sick man, flit [bring home] thy true-love?10Whether wilt thou be with elves,Or, a sick man, flit thy bride?

9Whether wilt thou stay with the elves,Or, a sick man, flit [bring home] thy true-love?

10Whether wilt thou be with elves,Or, a sick man, flit thy bride?

There is no answer.

NorwegianC,E,G,IresembleA.His more definite.

6Whether wilt thou go off sick, "under isle,"Or wilt thou marry an elf-maid?7Whether wilt thou go off sick, under hill,Or wilt thou marry an elf-wife?

6Whether wilt thou go off sick, "under isle,"Or wilt thou marry an elf-maid?

7Whether wilt thou go off sick, under hill,Or wilt thou marry an elf-wife?

To which Olaf answers that he lists not to go off a sick man, and he cannot marry an elf.

The two last stanzas of EnglishC, which correspond to these,

'Will ye lie there an die, Clerk Colin,Will ye lie there an die?Or will ye gang to Clyde's water,To fish in flood wi me?''I will lie here an die,' he said,'I will lie here an die;In spite o a' the deils in hell,I will lie here an die,'

'Will ye lie there an die, Clerk Colin,Will ye lie there an die?Or will ye gang to Clyde's water,To fish in flood wi me?'

'I will lie here an die,' he said,'I will lie here an die;In spite o a' the deils in hell,I will lie here an die,'

may originally have come in before the mermaid and the clerk parted; but her visit to him as he lies in bed is paralleled by that of the fairy to Staufenberg after he has been persuaded to give up what he had been brought to regard as an infernalliaison; and certainly Clerk Colin's language might lead us to think that some priest had been with him, too.

Upon Oluf's now seeking to make his escape through the elves' flame, ring, dance, etc., NorwegianA,B,C,E,G,I,H,K, the elf-woman strikes at him with a gold band, her wand, hand, a branch or twig; gives him a blow on the cheek, between the shoulders, over his white neck; stabs him in the heart, gives him knife-strokes five, nine; sickness follows the stroke, or blood: DanishA,B,F,N,O,R,V,Z,Æ,Ø, SwedishD,G, NorwegianA-E,H,I, Icelandic. The knife-stabs are delayed till the elves have put him on his horse in DanishD,G,X; as he sprang to his horse the knives rang after him,H. "Ride home," they say, "you shall not live more than a day" [five hours, two hours], DanishA,C,K-N,S,U,V. His hair fades, DanishE; his cheek pales, DanishE, NorwegianA; sickness follows him home, SwedishA,C,D,E; the blood is running out of the wound in his heart, SwedishG; when he reaches his father's house both his boots are full of blood, DanishR,Æ.

His mother [father] is standing without, and asks, Why so pale? Why runs the blood from thy saddle? Oluf, in some instances, pretends that his horse, not being sure-footed, had stumbled, and thrown him against a tree, but is told, or of himself adds, that he has been among the elves. He asks one or the other of his family to take his horse, bring a priest, make his bed, put on a bandage. He says he shall never rise from his bed, SwedishC, DanishF; fears he shall not live till the priest comes, DanishO,P.

The important passage which relates the arrival of the bride, the ominous circumstances at the bridegroom's house, the attempts to keep the bride in ignorance of his death, and her final discovery that she is widowed before marriage, occupies some thirty stanzas in DanishA, the oldest of all copies; in DanishBit is reduced to six; in other Danish versions it has a range of from fifteen to two; but, shorter or longer, it is found in all versions butR,Ø, and the fragmentsG,L,Q,X,Z. All the Swedish versions have a similar scene, extending from three to nine stanzas, with the exception ofGand ofA, which latter should perhaps be treated as a fragment. In NorwegianA, again, this part of the story fills ten stanzas;Blacks it, butC-H(which have not been published in full) have it, and probably other unpublished copies.

The bride is expected the next day, DanishD,F,I,K,N,O,S,T,U, SwedishA,D. In DanishAOluf begs his brothers, shortly after his reaching home, to set out to meet her; he fears she may arrive that very night, DanishÆ. "What shall I answer your young bride?" asks the mother, DanishB,C,D, etc., SwedishH. "Tell her that I have gone to the wood, to hunt and shoot, to try my horse and my dogs," DanishB,C,D,F,H,I,K,O,S,T,U, SwedishD,H, NorwegianA,L; in DanishNonly, "Say I died in the night." Oluf now makes his will; he wishes to assign his bride to his brother, DanishL,O,R, NorwegianC,F; he dies before the bride can come to him. (NorwegianFseems to have gone wrong here.)

The bride, with her train, comes in the morning, DanishB,D,E,I,M,T, SwedishD, NorwegianD; SwedishCmakes her wait for her bridegroom several days. As she passes through the town the bells are tolling, and she anxiously asks why, DanishA,K,O,S,U; she is told that it is a custom there to ring when the bride comes, DanishA, SwedishB. In DanishH, though it is day, she sees a light burning in Oluf's chamber, and this alarms her. When she comes to the house, Oluf's mother is weeping, all the ladies are weeping, or there are other signs of grief, DanishA,C,H,U,Æ. When she asks the reason, no one can answer, or she is told that a woman, a fair knight, is dead,A,C,H. Now she asks, Where is Oluf, who should have come to meet me, should have been here to receive me? DanishK,O,S,U,D,E,I,T, etc. They conduct the bride into the hall and seat her on the bride bench; knights come and go; they pour out mead and wine. "Where is Oluf," she asks again; the mother replies, as best she can, that Oluf is gone to the wood, DanishB,H, NorwegianA,D, SwedishH, etc. "Does he then care more for that than for his bride?" DanishA,D,I,M, etc., SwedishC,D, NorwegianA,E,G.

The truth is now avowed that Oluf is dead, DanishA,D,I,T,Y,Æ, SwedishB, NorwegianG. The bride begs that she may see the dead, DanishA,C,P,Æ, SwedishF, NorwegianD,E, and makes her way to the room where Oluf is lying. She puts aside the cloths that cover him, or the curtains, or the flowers, DanishA,B,K,V, etc., SwedishC,D, NorwegianC,D,E,G; says a word or two to her lover, DanishA,C,E,H, SwedishE,F, NorwegianG; kisses him, DanishA,C,H; her heart breaks, DanishA,C; she swoons dead at his feet, DanishK,M,S,U. In NorwegianA,C,D, she kills herself with Olaf's sword; in SwedishE, with her own knife. In DanishRshe dies in Oluf's mother's arms. On the morrow, when it was day, in Oluf's house three corpses lay: the first was Oluf, the second his maid, the third his mother, of grief was she dead: Danish, Swedish, Norwegian,passim.[355]

Bretonballads preserve the story in a form closely akin to the Scandinavian, and particularly to the oldest Danish version. I have seen the following, all from recent tradition:A,C, 'Ann Aotro ar C'hont,' 'Le SeigneurComte,' Luzel, I, 4/5, 16/17, fifty-seven and fifty-nine two-line stanzas.B, 'Ann Aotro Nann,' 'Le Seigneur Nann,' Luzel,I, 10/11, fifty-seven stanzas.[356]D, 'Aotrou Nann hag ar Gorrigan,' 'Le Seigneur Nann et la Fée,' Villemarqué, p. 25, ed. 1867, thirty-nine stanzas.E, 'Monsieur Nann,' Poésies populaires de la France, MS., V, fol. 381, fifty-three verses.F, 'Sonen Gertrud guet hi Vam,' 'Chant de Gertrude et de sa Mère,' L. Kérardven [== Dufilhol], Guionvac'h, Études sur la Bretagne, 2d ed., Paris, 1835, p. 362, p. 13, eleven four-line stanzas.G, Rolland in Romania, XII, 117, a somewhat abridged literal translation, in French.

The count [Nann] and his wife were married at the respective ages of thirteen and twelve. The next year a son was born [a boy and girl,D]. The young husband asked the countess if she had a fancy for anything. She owned that she should like a bit of game, and he took his gun [lance] and went to the wood. At the entrance of the wood he met a fairy [a dwarf,E; a hind,G; saw a white hind, which he pursued hotly till evening, when he dismounted near a grotto to drink, and there was a korrigan, sitting by the spring, combing her hair with a gold comb,D]. The fairy [dwarf, hind] said that she had long been looking for him,A,B,C,E,G. "Now that I have met you, you must marry me."[357]"Marry you? Not I. I am married already." "Choose either to die in three days or to lie sick in bed seven [three] years" [and then die,C]. He would rather die in three days, for his wife is very young, and would suffer greatly [he would rather die that instant than wed a korrigan,D].

On reaching home the young man called to his mother to make his bed; he should never get up again. [His mother, inC21, says, Do not weep so: it is not every sick man that dies, as in DanishA22.] He recounted his meeting with the fairy, and begged that his wife might not be informed of his death.

The countess asked, What has happened to my husband, that he does not come to see me? She was told that he had gone to the wood to get her something,A[to Paris,C; to the city,D]. Why were the men-servants weeping? The best horse had been drowned in bathing him,A,E; had been eaten by the wolves,B; had broken his neck,C; had died,F. They were not to weep; others should be bought. And why were the maids weeping? Linen had been lost in washing,A,C,E,F; the best silver cover had been stolen,F. They must not weep; the loss would be supplied. Why were the priests chanting? [the bells tolling,E,F]. A poor person whom they had lodged had died in the night,A-E[a young prince had died,F]. What dress should she wear for her churching,—red or blue?D,F.[358]The custom had come in of wearing black [she asks for red, they give her black,F]. On arriving at the church, or cemetery, she saw that the earth had been disturbed; her pew was hung with black,B; why was this? "I can no longer conceal it," said her mother-in-law: "your husband is dead." She died upon the spot,A,D. "Take my keys, take care of my son; I will stay with his father,"B,C. "Your son is dead, your daughter is dead,"F.[359]

This ballad has spread, apparently from Brittany, over all France. No distinct trace of the fairy remains, however, except in a single case. The versions that have been madepublic, so far as they have come to my knowledge, are as follows, resemblance to the Breton ballad principally directing the arrangement.

A.'Le fils Louis,' Vendée, pays de Retz, Poésies populaires de la France, MS., III, fol. 118, printed in Romania, XI, 100, 44 verses.B.Normandy, 1876, communicated by Legrand to Romania, X, 372, 61 verses.C."Forez, Frédéric Noëlas, Annales de la Société impériale d'agriculture, industrie, sciences, arts et belles-lettres du département de la Loire, Année 1865, p. 210, 64 verses," Grundtvig, IV, 867-70.D.Victor Smith, Chants populaires du Velay et du Forez, Romania, X, 583, 68 verses.E.The same, p. 581, 64 verses.F.Saint-Denis, Poés. pop. de la France, III, fol. 103, Romania, XI, 98, 74 verses, as sung by a young girl, her mother and grandmother.G.Poitou et Vendée, Études historiques et artistiques par B. Fillon et O. De Rochbrune, 7e-10elivraisons, Fontenay-le-Comte, 1865, article Nalliers, pp 17, 18, nineteen four-line stanzas and a couplet; before by B. Fillon in "L'Histoire véridique des fraudes et exécrables voleries et subtilités de Guillery, depuis sa naissance jusqu'à la juste punition de ses crimes, Fontenay, 1848," extracted in Poés, pop., III, fol. 112; other copies at fol. 108 and at fol. 116; Romania, XI, 101, 78 verses.H.Bourbonnais, Poés. pop. III, fol. 91, Romania, XI, 103, 38 verses, sung by a woman seventy-two years old.I.Bretagne, Loudéac, Poés. pop., III, fol. 121, Romania, XI, 103 f, 64 verses.J.Poés. pop., III, fol. 285, Romania, XII, 115 (I), 50 verses.K.Bretagne (?), Romania, XII, 115 f, 36 verses.L.V. Smith, Chants pop. du Velay et du Forez, Romania, X, 582. 57 verses.M.'Le roi Renaud,' Flévy, Puymaigre, I, 39, 78 verses.N.Touraine, Bléré, Brachet in Revue Critique, II, 125, 60 verses.O.The same, variations of a later version.P.'L'Arnaud l'Infant,' Limoges, Laforest, Limoges au XVIIesiècle, 1862, p. 300, Poés. pop., III, fol. 95, Romania, XI, 104, 82 verses.Q.Charente, Poés. pop., III, fol. 107, Romania, XI, 99, 60 verses.R.Cambes, Lot-et-Garonne, Romania, XII, 116, 46 verses.S.Jura, Revue des Deux Mondes, 1854, Août, p. 486, 50 verses.T.Rouen, Poés. pop. III, fol. 100, Romania, XI, 102, 60 verses, communicated by a gentleman who at the beginning of the century had learned the ballad from an aunt, who had received it from an aged nun.U. a, Buchon, Noëls et Chants populaires de la Franche-Comté, p. 85, 34 verses;b, Tarbé, Romancero de Champagne, Vol. II, Chants Populaires, p. 125, 32 verses;c, G. de Nerval, La Bohème Galante, ed. 1866, p. 77, Les Filles du Feu, ed. 1868, p. 130, 30 verses;d, 'Jean Renaud,' Bujeaud, Chants et Chansons populaires des Provinces de l'Ouest, II, 213, 32 verses.V.Poés. pop., III, fol. 122, Romania, XI, 100 f, 32 verses.W.Le Blésois, Ampère, Instructions, etc., p. 37, 36 verses.X.Provence, Poés. pop., III, fol. 114, Romania, XI, 105, 44 verses.Y.'Lou Counte Arnaud,' Bivès, Gers, Bladé, Poés. pop. de la Gascogne, II, 134/135, 48 verses.Z.Vagney, Vosges, Mélusine, p. 75, 44 verses.AA.Cambes, Lot-et-Garonne, Romania, XII, 116 f, 40 verses.BB.Quercy, Sérignac, Poés. pop., Romania, XI, 106, 34 verses.CC.Quercy, Poés. pop., Romania, XI, 107, 26 verses.DD.Bretagne, Villemarqué, Barzaz-Breiz, ed. 1846, I, 46, 12 verses.EE.Orléans, Poés. pop., III, fol. 102, Romania, XI, 107, 10 verses.FF.Auvergne, Poés, pop., III, fol. 89, Romania, XI, 107 f, 6 verses.GG.Boulonnais, 'La Ballade du Roi Renaud,' E. Hamy, in Almanach de Boulogne-sur-Mer pour 1863, p. 110 (compounded from several versions), 16 four-line stanzas.[360]

The name of the hero in the French ballad is mostly Renaud, or some modification of Renaud: Jean Renaud,G,H,U; Renom,AA; Arnaud,C,E,L,Y,BB; L'Arnaud l'Infant,P; Louis Renaud, brother of Jean,F.It is Louis inA,I,J,V. He is king, or of the royal family,F,M,N,O,Q,W,BB,CC,GG; count,Y; Renaud le grand,H,Z. InA, while he is walking in his meadows, he meets Death, who asks him, peremptorily, Would you rather die this very night, or languish seven years? and he answers that he prefers to die at once. Here there is a very plain trace of the older fairy. He is mortally hurt, while hunting, by a wolf,B; by a boar,DD. But in more than twenty versions he returns from war, often with a horrible wound, "apportant son cœur dans sa main,"C; "tenant ses tripes dans ses mains,"N; "oque ses tripes on sa main, sen estoumac on sen chapea, sen cûr covert de sen mentea,"G; etc. InF,I,Jhe comes home in a dying state from prison (to which he was consigned, according toI, for robbing a church!). In these versions the story is confused with that of another ballad, existing in Breton, and very likely in French, 'Komt ar Chapel,' 'Le Comte des Chapelles,' Luzel, I, 456/457, or 'Le Page de Louis XIII,' Villemarqué, Barzaz-Breiz, p. 301. A fragment of a corresponding Italian ballad is given by Nigra, Romania, XI, 397, No 9.

Renaud, as it will be convenient to call the hero, coming home triste et chagrin,F,P,U b, c, triste et bien malauY, receives on his arriving felicitations from his mother on account of the birth of a son. He has no heart to respond to these: "Ni de ma femme, ni de mon fils, je ne saurais me réjoui." He asks that his bed may be made, with precautions against his wife's hearing. At midnight he is dead.

The wife, hearing the men-servants weeping, asks her mother-in-law the cause. The best horse [horses] has been found dead in the stable, has strayed away, etc.,B,D-S,GG. "No matter for that," says the wife; "when Renaud comes he will bring better,"B,D-G,L-Q,GG. The maids are heard weeping; why is that? They have lost, or injured, sheets in the washing,B,D,E,G,J. When Renaud comes we shall have better,B,D,E,G. Or a piece of plate has been lost or broken,A,F,H,I,K,O. [It is children with the toothache,F,U a, b, c, d]. "What is this chanting which I hear?" It is a procession, making the tour of the house:B,D-F,L,P-X,GG. "What gown shall I wear when I go to church?" Black is the color for women at their churching,B,F,I,L,M,O,P,V,Y; black is more becoming, plus joli, plus convenant, plus conséquent,A,D,H,K,N,R,X,BB,DD,GG; "quittez le ros', quittez le gris, prenez le noir, pour mieux choisir," etc.,Q,W,U,E,S,T.

Besides these four questions, all of which occur in Breton ballads, there are two which are met with in many versions, always coming before the last. "What is this pounding (frapper, cogner, taper) which I hear?" It is carpenters, or masons, repairing some part of the house,D,E,K,L,N,P-U,W;A,V,X,AA;GG. "Why are the bells ringing?" For a procession, or because a distinguished personage has come, has died, etc.,A,B,F-L,Q,R,W,Y,AA,DD,GG. On the way to church [or cemetery] herdboys or others say to one another, as the lady goes by, That is the wife of the king, the seigneur, that was buried last night, or the like; and the mother-in-law has again to put aside the lady's question as to what they were saying,D,E,G,H,L-P,S,T,X,Y,FF,GG.

Flambeaux or candles are burning at the church,E,V; a taper is presented to the widow,M, or holy water,N,T,Z,GG; the church is hung with black,D,O,FF; the funeral is going on,AA,CC. "Whose is this new monument?" "What a fine tomb!"M,N,R,T,Z,GG. The scene in other cases is transferred to the cemetery. "Why has the earth been disturbed?" "What new monument is this?"A,DD;C,F,I,J,P. InBthe tomb is in the garden; inL,S,X,BBthe place is not defined.

The young wife utters a piercing shriek,C,D,K,L,N. Open earth, split tomb, split tiles!A,B,Q,R,V,W,X,Y; I will stay with my husband, will die with my husband, will not go back,A,C,D,M,N,Q,R,S,X,Y,Z,BB,CC,GG. She bids her mother take her keys,B,C,G,L,M,P,Y,BB,CC,GG, and commits her son [children] to herkinsfolk, to bring up piously,B,G,I,J,L,M,O,Z,BB,CC. InH,P,Q,W,X,Ythe earth opens, and in the last four it encloses her. InKheaven is rent by her shriek, and she sees her husband in light (who says, strangely, that his mouth smacks of rot); he bids her bring up the children as Christians. Heaven opens to her prayer inAA, and a voice cries, Wife, come up hither! InGGthe voice from heaven says, Go to your child: I will keep your husband safe. There are other variations.[361]

G,T,Isay expressly that Renaud's wife died the next day, or after hearing three masses, or soon after.M,O, by a feeble modern perversion, make her go into a convent.

Italianballads cover very much the same ground as the French. The versions hitherto published are:

A.'La Lavandaia,' Cento, Ferraro, Canti popolari di Ferrara, Cento e Pontelagoscuro, p. 52, 16 verses, Romania, XI, 397, amended.B.'Il Cavaliere della bella Spada,' Pontelagoscuro, Ferraro, p. 107, previously in Rivista di Filologia romanza, II, 205, 28 verses, Romania, XI, 398.C.Piedmont, communicated by Nigra, with other versions, to Romania, XI, 394, No 4, 48 verses.D.Romania, XI, 393 f, No 3, 34 verses.E.Ib.p. 395, No 6, 42 verses.F.Ib.p. 392 f, No 2, 46 verses.G.'Conte Anzolin,' Wolf, Volkslieder aus Venetien, p. 61, 57 verses.H.Romania, XI, 396, No 7, 38 verses.I.Ib.p. 394 f, No 5, 26 verses.J.'Il re Carlino,' Ferraro, Canti popolari monferrini, p. 34, 42 verses.K.Romania, XI, 392, No 1, 20 verses.L.'Il Conte Angiolino,' Rovigno, Ive, Canti popolari istriani, p. 344, 34 verses.M.'Il Conte Cagnolino,' Pontelagoscuro, Ferraro, as above, p. 84, Rivista di Filologia romanza, II, 196, 36 verses. All these are from recent tradition.

The name Rinaldo, Rinald, is found only inI,C, and the latter has also Lüis. Lüis is the name inE; Carlino, Carlin, inJ,H; Angiolino, Anzolin,L,G; Cagnolino,M. The rank is king inC,E,H-K; prince,D; count,G,L,M.

AandB, corrupted fragments though they be, retain clear traces of the ancient form of the story, and of the English variety of that form. Under the bridge of the Rella [Diamantina] a woman is washing clothes, gh' è 'na lavandera. A knight passes,B, and apparently accosts the laundress. She moves into the water, and the knight after her; the knight embraces her,A. Dowy rade he hame, el va a cà tüto mojà,A. InB(passing over some verses which have intruded) he has many knife-stabs, and his horse many also.[362]He asks his mother to put him to bed and his horse into the stable, and gives directions about his funeral.

All of the story which precedes the hero's return home is either omitted,D,F,J,K,L, or abridged to a single stanza: ven da la cassa lo re Rinald, ven da la cassa, l'è tüt ferì,C; ven da la guerra re Rinaldo, ven da la guerra, l'è tüt ferì,I,E,H; save thatG, which likeCmakes him to have been hunting (and to have been bitten by a mad dog), adds that, while he was hunting, his wife had given birth to a boy.Mhas an entirely false beginning: Count Cagnolino was disposed to marry, but wished to be secure about his wife's previous life. He had a marble statue in his garden which moved its eyes when any girl that had gone astray presented herself before it. Thedaughter of Captain Tartaglia having been declined, for reason, and another young woman espoused, Tartaglia killed the count while they were hunting.

The wounded man, already feeling the approach of death,F,G,L, asks that his bed may be made; he shall die before the morrow,D,F,J; let not his wife know,F,G. The wife asks why the men-servants, coachmen, are weeping, and is told that they have drowned [lost] some of the horses,C-J,M[have burned the king's carriage,K]. We will get others when the king comes, she answers,C,D,H[when I get up,F, as in BretonA]. Why are the maids weeping? The maids have lost sheets or towels in washing,F,I,K; have scorched the shirts in ironing,C,D,H. When the king comes, he will buy or bring better,C,D,H[when I get up,F, as in BretonA]. Why are the priests chanting? For a great feast to-morrow,F. Why are the carpenters at work? They are making a cradle for your boy,C-E,H-K. Why do the bells ring? A great lord is dead; in honor of somebody or something;C,E-L. Why does not Anzolin come to see me? He has gone a-hunting,G,L. What dress shall I put on to go to church? [When I get up I shall put on red,F,I.] You in black and I in gray, as in our country is the way,C-F,H,I[Hmoda aParis, by corruption of dël pais]; I white, you gray,J; you will look well in black,M; put on red, or put on white, or put on black for custom's sake,G.

The children in the street say, That is the wife of the lord who was buried, or the people look at the lady in a marked way,C,J,G,M; and why is this? For the last time the mother-in-law puts off the question. At the church, under the family bench, there is a grave new made, and now it has to be said that the husband is buried there,C-K,M.

A conclusion is wanting in half of the ballads, and what there is is corrupted in others. The widow commends her boy to her husband's mother,G,M, and says she will die with her dear one,D,E,J,M. InC, as in FrenchV, she wishes to speak to her husband. If the dead ever spake to the quick, she would speak once to her dear Lüis; if the quick ever spake to the dead, she would speak once to her dear husband. InGshe bids the grave unlock, that she may come into the arms of her beloved, and then bids it close, that in his arms she may stay: cf. FrenchY,Q,X,R,AA.

The story of the Italian ballad, under the title of 'Il Conte Angiolino,' was given in epitome by Luigi Carrer, in his Prose e Poesie, Venice, 1838, IV, 81 f, before any copy had been published (omitted in later editions). According to Carrer's version, the lady, hearing bells, and seeing from her windows the church lighted up as for some office, extracts the fact from her mother-in-law on the spot, and then, going to the church and seeing her husband's tomb, prays that it would open and receive her.

A fragment of an Italian ballad given by Nigra, Romania, XI, 396, No 8, describes three card players, quarrelling over their game, as passing from words to knives, and from knives to pistols, and one of the party, the king of Spain, as being wounded in the fray. He rides home with a depressed air, and asks his mother to make his bed, for he shall be dead at midnight and his horse at dawn. There is a confusion of two stories here, as will be seen from Spanish ballads which are to be spoken of. Both stories are mixed with the original adventure of the mermaid in 'Il Cavaliere della bella spada,' already referred to asB. In this last the knight has a hundred and fifty stabs, and his horse ninety.[363]

Nigra has added to the valuable and beautiful ballads furnished to Romania, XI, a tale (p. 398) from the province of Turin, which preserves the earlier portion of the Breton story. A hunter comes upon a beautiful woman under a rock. She requires him tomarry her, and is told by the hunter that he is already married. The beautiful woman, who is of course a fairy, presents the hunter with a box for his wife, which he is not to open. This box contains an explosive girdle, intended to be her death; and the hunter's curiosity impelling him to examine the gift, he is so much injured by a detonation which follows that he can just drag himself home to die.

Spanish.This ballad is very common in Catalonia, and has been found in Asturias. Since it is also known in Portugal, we may presume that it might be recovered in other parts of the peninsula.A.'La bona viuda,' Briz, Cansons de la Terra, III, 155, 32 verses.B.'La Viuda,' 33 verses, Milá y Fontanals, Romancerillo Catalan, 2d ed., p. 155, No 204.C-I.Ib.p. 156 f.J.Ib.p. 157 f, No 204, 36 verses.K.'Romance de Doña Ana,' Asturias, the argument only, Amador de los Rios, Historia Critica de la Literatura Española, VII, 446, being No 30 of that author's unpublished collection.

The name of the husband is Don Joan de Sevilla,D, Don Joan,F, Don Olalbo,I, Don Francisco,J, Don Pedro,K. His wife, a princess,A,G, has given birth to a child, or is on the eve of so doing. The gentleman is away from home, or is about to leave home on a pilgrimage of a year and a day,A,G; has gone to war,D; to a hunt,I,K. He dies just as he returns home or is leaving home, or away from home, in other versions, but inKcomes back in a dying condition, and begs that his state may be concealed from his wife. The lady, hearing a commotion in the house, and asking the cause, is told that it is the noisy mirth of the servants,A-D. There is music, chanting, tolling of bells; and this is said to be for a great person who has died,B,D,A. InB,D, the wife asks, Can it be for my husband? InJthe mother-in-law explains her own sorrowful demeanor as occasioned by the death of an uncle, and we are informed that the burial was without bells, in order that the new mother might not hear. InJonly do we have the question, Where is my husband? He has been summoned to court, says the mother-in-law, where, as a favorite, he will stay a year and ten days. When should the young mother go to mass? Peasants go after a fortnight, tradesfolk after forty days, etc.; she, as a great lady, will wait a year and a day,A,D,I, a year,B, a year and ten days,J. What dress should she wear, silk, gold tissue, silver? etc. Black would become her best,A,J,K. [Doña Ana, inK, like the lady in ItalianG, resists the suggestion of mourning, as proper only for a widow, and appears in a costume de Pascua florida: in some other copies also she seems to wear a gay dress.] The people, the children, point to her, and say, There is the widow, and her mother-in-law parries the inquiry why she is the object of remark; but the truth is avowed when they see a grave digging, and the wife asks for whom it is,A. InJthe lady sees a monument in the church, hung with black, reads her husband's name, and swoons.B,Cmake the mother's explanation follow upon the children's talk. InKthe announcement is made first by a shepherd, then confirmed by gaping spectators and by a rejected lover. The widow commends her child to its grandmother, and says she will go to her husband in heaven,A-D; dies on the spot,K; Don Francisco dies in March, Doña Ana in May,J.

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