R

Pitcairn's MSS, III, 19. "This was communicated to me by my friend Patrick Robertson, Esq., Advocate,[427]who heard it sung by an old lady in the North Country; and though by no means enthusiastic about popular poetry, it struck him so forcibly that he requested her to repeat it slowly, so as he might write it down." Stanzas 2-5 "were very much similar to the set in Scott's Minstrelsy," and were not taken down.

1'O whare hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son?O whare hae ye been, my handsome young man?''Oer the peat moss mang the heather, mother, mak my bed soon,For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.'6'What leave ye to your father, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your father, my handsome young man?''I leave my houses and land, mother, mak my bed soon,For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.'7'What leave ye to your brother, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your brother, my handsome young man?''O the guid milk-white steed that I rode upon,For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.'8'What leave ye to your true-love, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your true-love, my handsome young man?''O a high, high gallows, to hang her upon,For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.'

6'What leave ye to your father, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your father, my handsome young man?''I leave my houses and land, mother, mak my bed soon,For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.'

7'What leave ye to your brother, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your brother, my handsome young man?''O the guid milk-white steed that I rode upon,For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.'

8'What leave ye to your true-love, Lord Randal, my son?What leave ye to your true-love, my handsome young man?''O a high, high gallows, to hang her upon,For I'm weary, weary hunting, and fain wad lie down.'

Pitcairn's MSS, III, 11. "From tradition: widow Stevenson."

1'Whare hae ye been a' day, my little wee toorin dow?''It's I've been at my grandmammy's; mak my bed, mammy, now.'2'And what did ye get frae your grandmammy, my little wee toorin dow?''It's I got a wee bit fishy to eat; mak my bed, mammy, now.'3'An what did ye do wi the banes o it, my little wee toorin dow?''I gied it to my black doggy to eat; mak my bed, mammy, now.'4'An what did your little black doggy do syne, my little wee toorin dow?''He shot out his head, and his feet, and he died; as I do, mammy, now.'

1'Whare hae ye been a' day, my little wee toorin dow?''It's I've been at my grandmammy's; mak my bed, mammy, now.'

2'And what did ye get frae your grandmammy, my little wee toorin dow?''It's I got a wee bit fishy to eat; mak my bed, mammy, now.'

3'An what did ye do wi the banes o it, my little wee toorin dow?''I gied it to my black doggy to eat; mak my bed, mammy, now.'

4'An what did your little black doggy do syne, my little wee toorin dow?''He shot out his head, and his feet, and he died; as I do, mammy, now.'

Communicated to Percy by Rev. P. Parsons, of Wye, near Ashford, Kent, April 19, 1775: taken down by a friend of Mr Parsons "from the spinning-wheel, in Suffolk."

1'Where have you been today, Randall, my son?Where have you been today, my only man?''I have been a hunting, mother, make my bed soon,For I'm sick at the heart, fain woud lie down.Dear sister, hold my head, dear mother, make my bed,I am sick at the heart, fain woud lie down.'2'What have you eat today, Randal, my son?What have you eat today, my only man?''I have eat an eel; mother, make,' etc.3'What was the colour of it, Randal, my son?What was the colour of it, my only man?''It was neither green, grey, blue nor black,But speckled on the back; make,' etc.4'Who gave you eels today, Randal, my son?Who gave you eels today, my only man?''My own sweetheart; mother, make,' etc.5'Where shall I make your bed, Randal, my son?Where shall I make your bed, my only man?''In the churchyard; mother, make,' etc.6'What will you leave her then, Randall, my son?What will you leave her then, my only man?''A halter to hang herself; make,' etc.

2'What have you eat today, Randal, my son?What have you eat today, my only man?''I have eat an eel; mother, make,' etc.

3'What was the colour of it, Randal, my son?What was the colour of it, my only man?''It was neither green, grey, blue nor black,But speckled on the back; make,' etc.

4'Who gave you eels today, Randal, my son?Who gave you eels today, my only man?''My own sweetheart; mother, make,' etc.

5'Where shall I make your bed, Randal, my son?Where shall I make your bed, my only man?''In the churchyard; mother, make,' etc.

6'What will you leave her then, Randall, my son?What will you leave her then, my only man?''A halter to hang herself; make,' etc.

166a. Insert afterC:

D. b.Disordered:b1 ==a1;b2 ==a4;b3 ==a51,2+a23,4;b4 ==a3;a21,2, 53,4, are wanting.

b.13, been at the hunting.32. I fear ye've drunk poison.33==a23. I supd wi my auntie.41,2==a31,2. your supper.This copy may be an imperfect recollection ofa.

b.13, been at the hunting.

32. I fear ye've drunk poison.

33==a23. I supd wi my auntie.

41,2==a31,2. your supper.

This copy may be an imperfect recollection ofa.

166b.

I. h.Four stanzas only, 1, 2, 6, 7.

12. my own little one.14. at the heart ... and fain.61. will you leave mother.71. will you leave grandma.73. a rope.

12. my own little one.

14. at the heart ... and fain.

61. will you leave mother.

71. will you leave grandma.

73. a rope.

k.Seven stanzas.

13. to see grandmother.14. sick at heart, and fain.23. Stripëd eels fried.3 ==a6,d5,h3.31,2. Your grandmother has poisoned you.33. I know it, I know it.4 ==a6. 41,2. would you leave mother.5 ==a8,b9,h7.51,2. would you leave sister.53. A box full of jewels.6 ==a7; 7 ==a8.61,2. would you leave grandmother.63. A rope for to hang her.71,2. O where shall I make it.

13. to see grandmother.

14. sick at heart, and fain.

23. Stripëd eels fried.

3 ==a6,d5,h3.

31,2. Your grandmother has poisoned you.

33. I know it, I know it.

4 ==a6. 41,2. would you leave mother.

5 ==a8,b9,h7.

51,2. would you leave sister.

53. A box full of jewels.

6 ==a7; 7 ==a8.

61,2. would you leave grandmother.

63. A rope for to hang her.

71,2. O where shall I make it.

K.Add afterc:

d.11, my bonnie wee crowdin,and always.

21. frae your stepmither.22. She gied me a bonnie wee fish, it was baith black and blue.51. my ain wee dog.61. And whare is your ain wee dog.

21. frae your stepmither.

22. She gied me a bonnie wee fish, it was baith black and blue.

51. my ain wee dog.

61. And whare is your ain wee dog.

62.It laid down its wee headie and deed,And sae maun I do nou.

Q."The second, third, fourth, and fifth stanzas were very much similar to the set Lord Ronald, in Scott's Border Minstrelsy, and as Mr Robertson was hurried he did not take down the precise words." MS., p. 21.

Ronaldis changed toRandalin 6, 7, but is left in 8.

R.Written in four-line stanzas.

P.168a, first paragraph. Add: SwedishE, Aminson, Bidrag till Södermanlands Kulturhistoria,III, 37, eight stanzas. Nine stanzas of FinnishBare translated by Schott, Acta Comparationis, 1878, IV, cols 132, 133. The murder here is for wife-seduction, a peculiar and assuredly not original variation.

168b.Bis translated by Adolph von Marées, p. 27; by Graf von Platen, II, 329, Stuttgart, 1847; after Herder into Magyar, by Dr Karl von Szász.

P.172a.Swedish.Professor George Stephens points me to two localized prose outlines of the story, one from Småland, the other from Skåne; 'Truls och hans barn,' in the Svenska Fornminnesföreningens Tidskrift, II, 77 f.

P.179a.Swedish. II. Add:I, 'Risa lill,' Wigström, Folkdiktning, II, 28.

180a, lines 25, 26. Read:A,G,M,X.

181a.German.Add:D, 'Der Ritter und seine Geliebte,' Ditfurth, Deutsche Volks- und Gesellschaftslieder des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts, p. 14, No 13. (Köhler.)

181b.French.C.A still more corrupted copy in Poésies populaires de la France, III, fol. 143, 'La fausse morte.'D.Fol. 215 of the same volume, a very pretty ballad from Périgord, which has lost most of the characteristic incidents, but not the tragic conclusion.

182b, first paragraph. A similar scene, ending happily, in I Complementi della Chanson d'Huon de Bordeaux, pubblicati da A. Graf, pp 26 ff. (Köhler.)

183b, stanzas 27, 28. Compare:

Modhreu lärde sonnenn sinn:'Skiuter tu diur och skiuter tu råå;'Skiuter tu diur och skiuter tu råå,Then salige hindenn lätt tu gå!'

Modhreu lärde sonnenn sinn:'Skiuter tu diur och skiuter tu råå;

'Skiuter tu diur och skiuter tu råå,Then salige hindenn lätt tu gå!'

'Den förtrollade Jungfrun,' Arwidsson, II, 260, No 136,AI, 2.

P.187.F.Insert the title 'Young Hyndhorn.'

G.Insert: Kinloch MSS, VII, 117.

192. Dr Davidson informs me that many years ago he heard a version of 'Hind Horn,' in four-line stanzas, in which, as in 'Horn et Rymenhild' and 'Horn Childe and Maiden Rimnild,' Horn took part in a joust at the king's court,

An young Hind Horn was abune them a'.

He remembers further only these stanzas:

'O got ye this o the sea sailin,Or got ye 't o the lan?Or got ye 't o the bloody shores o Spain,On a droont man's han?''I got na 't o the sea sailin,I got na 't o the lan,Nor yet upo the bloody shores o Spain,On a droont man's han.'

'O got ye this o the sea sailin,Or got ye 't o the lan?Or got ye 't o the bloody shores o Spain,On a droont man's han?'

'I got na 't o the sea sailin,I got na 't o the lan,Nor yet upo the bloody shores o Spain,On a droont man's han.'

193b (2). Add: 'Herr Lovmand,' Kristensen, I, 136, No 52.

194. A corrupt fragment of a ballad, 'Der Bettler,' in Schröer's Ausflug nach Gottschee, p. 210 f (Köhler), retains features like 'Hind Horn.' The beggar comes to a wedding, and sits by the stove. The bride kindly says, Nobody is thinking of the beggar, and hands him a glass of wine. He says, Thanks, fair bride; thou wast my first wife. Upon this thebridegroomjumps over the table, crying, Bachelor I came, and bachelor will go.

The Epirots and Albanians have a custom of betrothing or marrying, commonly in early youth, and of then parting for a long period. A woman was lately (1875) buried at Iannina who, as the archbishop boasted in the funeral discourse, had preserved her fidelity to a husband who had been separated from her thirty years. This unhappy usage has given rise to a distinct class of songs. Dozon, Chansons populaires bulgares, p. 294, note.

195b (5). The German popular rhymed tale of Henry the Lion is now known to have been composed by the painter Heinrich Götting, Dresden, 1585. Germania, XXVI, 453, No 527.

198a, to first paragraph. For the marvellous transportation in these stories, see a note by Liebrecht in Jahrbücher für rom. u. eng. Literatur, III, 147. In the same, IV, 110, Liebrecht refers to the legend of Hugh of Halton, recounted by Dugdale in his Antiquities of Warwickshire, II, 646, ed. of 1730, and Monasticon Anglicanum, IV, 90 f, ed. 1823 (and perhaps in Dugdale's Baronage of England, but I have not found it there). Hugo is another Gerard: the two half-rings miraculously unite. (Köhler.) See, also, Landau on Torello, 'Der Wunderritt,' Quellen des Dekameron 1884, pp 193-218.

198b, third paragraph. Other versions of 'Le Retour du Mari:' Fleury, Littérature Orale de la Basse-Normandie, p. 268; E. Legrand, Romania, X, 374, also from Normandy.

A ballad of the nature of 'Le Retour du Mari' is very popular in Poland: Kolberg, No 22, pp 224 ff, some dozen copies; Wojcicki, I, 287; Wojcicki, II, 311 == Kolberg'sc; Lipinski, p. 159 == Kolberg's i; Konopka, p. 121, No 20; Kozłowski, No 5, p. 35, p. 36, two copies. In Moravian, 'První milejší,' 'The First Love,' Sušil, No 135, p. 131. The general course of the story is that a young man has to go to the war the day of his wedding or the day after. He commits his bride to her mother, saying, Keep her for me seven years; and if I do not then come back, give her to whom you please. He is gone seven years, and, returning then, asks for his wife. She has just been given to another. He asks for a fiddle [pipe], and says he will go to the wedding. They advise him to stay away, for there will be a disturbance. No, he will only stand at the door and play. The bride jumps over four tables, and makes a courtesy to him on a fifth, welcomes him and dismisses the new bridegroom.

199a, end of the first paragraph. I forgot to mention the version of Costantino, agreeing closely with Camarda's, in De Rada, Rapsodie d'un poema albanese raccolte nelle colonie del Napoletano, pp 61-64.

200. A maid, parting from her lover for three years, divides her ring with him. He forgets, and prepares to marry another woman. She comes to the nuptials, and is not known. She throws the half ring into a cup, drinks, and hands the cup to him. He sees the half ring, and joins it to his own. This is my wife, he says. She delivered me from death. He annuls hismarriage, and espouses the right woman. Miklosisch, Ueber die Mundarten der Zigeuner, IV, Märchen u. Lieder, 15th Tale, pp 52-55, at the end of a story of the class referred to at p. 401 f. (Köhler.)

A personage appeared at Magdeburg in 1348 in the disguise of a pilgrim, asked for a cup of wine from the archbishop's table, and, in drinking, dropped into the cup from his mouth the seal ring of the margrave Waldemar, supposed to have been long dead, but whom he confessed or avowed himself to be. Klöden, Diplomatische Geschichte des für falsch erklärten Markgrafen Waldemar, p. 189 f. (Köhler.)

A wife who long pursues her husband, lost to her through spells, drops a ring into his broth at the feast for his second marriage, is recognized, and they are happily reunited: The Tale of the Hoodie, Campbell, West Highland Tales, I, 63-66.

In a pretty Portuguese ballad, which has numerous parallels in other languages, a long-absent husband, after tormenting his wife by telling her that she is a widow, legitimates himself by saying, Where is your half of the ring which we parted? Here is mine: 'Bella Infanta,' Almeida-Garrett, II, 11, 14, Braga, Cantos p. do Archipelago Açoriano, p. 300; 'Dona Infanta,' 'Dona Catherina,' Braga, Romanceiro Geral, pp 3 f, 7.

See, further, for ring stories, Wesselofsky, Neue Beiträge zur Geschichte der Salomonsage, in Archiv für Slavische Philologie, VI, 397 f; Hahn, Neugriechische Märchen, No 25.

The cases in which a simple ring is the means of recognition or confirmation need, of course, not be multiplied.

200a, line twenty-four. For Alesha read Alyosha.

205.G.In Kinloch MSS, VII, 117. After "from the recitation of my niece, M. Kinnear, 23 August, 1826," is written in pencil "Christy Smith," who may have been the person from whom Miss Kinnear derived the ballad, or another reciter. Changes are made in pencil, some of which are written over in ink, some not. The printed copy, as usual with Kinloch, differs in some slight respects from the manuscript.

a.From the recitation of Miss Jane Webster, formerly of Airds of Kells, now of Dalry, both in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, December 12, 1882.b.From Miss Jessie Jane Macmath and Miss Agnes Macmath, nieces of Miss Webster, December 11, 1882: originally derived from an old nurse. Communicated by Mr Macmath, of Edinburgh.

* * * * *1She gave him a gay gold ring,Hey lillelu and how lo lanBut he gave her a far better thing.With my hey down and a hey diddle downie2He gave her a silver wan,With nine bright laverocks thereupon.* * * * *3Young Hynd Horn is come to the lan,There he met a beggar man.4'What news, what news do ye betide?''Na news but Jeanie's the prince's bride.'5'Wilt thou give me thy begging weed?And I'll give thee my good grey steed.6'Wilt thou give me thy auld grey hair?And I'll give ye mine that is thrice as fair.'7The beggar he got on for to ride,But young Hynd Horn is bound for the bride.8First the news came to the ha,Then to the room mang the gentles a'.9'There stands a beggar at our gate,Asking a drink for young Hynd Horn's sake.'10'I'll ga through nine fires hotTo give him a drink for young Hynd Horn's sake.'11She gave him the drink, and he dropt in the ring;The lady turned baith pale an wan.12'Oh got ye it by sea, or got ye it by lan?Or got ye it off some dead man's han?'13'I got it not by sea, nor I got it not by lan,But I got it off thy milk-white han.'14'I'll cast off my dress of red,And I'll go with thee and beg my bread.15I'll cast off my dress of brown,And follow you from city to town.16'I'll cast off my dress of green,For I am not ashamed with you to be seen.'17'You need not cast off your dress of red,For I can support thee on both wine and bread.18'You need not cast off your dress of brown,For I can keep you a lady in any town.19'You need not cast off your dress of green,For I can maintain you as gay as a queen.'

* * * * *

1She gave him a gay gold ring,Hey lillelu and how lo lanBut he gave her a far better thing.With my hey down and a hey diddle downie

2He gave her a silver wan,With nine bright laverocks thereupon.

* * * * *

3Young Hynd Horn is come to the lan,There he met a beggar man.

4'What news, what news do ye betide?''Na news but Jeanie's the prince's bride.'

5'Wilt thou give me thy begging weed?And I'll give thee my good grey steed.

6'Wilt thou give me thy auld grey hair?And I'll give ye mine that is thrice as fair.'

7The beggar he got on for to ride,But young Hynd Horn is bound for the bride.

8First the news came to the ha,Then to the room mang the gentles a'.

9'There stands a beggar at our gate,Asking a drink for young Hynd Horn's sake.'

10'I'll ga through nine fires hotTo give him a drink for young Hynd Horn's sake.'

11She gave him the drink, and he dropt in the ring;The lady turned baith pale an wan.

12'Oh got ye it by sea, or got ye it by lan?Or got ye it off some dead man's han?'

13'I got it not by sea, nor I got it not by lan,But I got it off thy milk-white han.'

14'I'll cast off my dress of red,And I'll go with thee and beg my bread.

15I'll cast off my dress of brown,And follow you from city to town.

16'I'll cast off my dress of green,For I am not ashamed with you to be seen.'

17'You need not cast off your dress of red,For I can support thee on both wine and bread.

18'You need not cast off your dress of brown,For I can keep you a lady in any town.

19'You need not cast off your dress of green,For I can maintain you as gay as a queen.'

207b. Add:F. 13, 71, 91, 132, Hyndhorn.

208.I.b. 1-3, 6, 8, 10, 14, 16-19,wanting.

Burden2: Wi my hey-dey an my hey deedle downie.51. O gie to me your aul beggar weed.

Burden2: Wi my hey-dey an my hey deedle downie.

51. O gie to me your aul beggar weed.

11.She gave him the cup, and he dropped in the ring:O but she turned pale an wan!

Between 11 and 12:

O whaur got e that gay gold ring?. . . . . . .

132. your ain fair han.

15.O bring to me my dress o broun,An I'll beg wi you frae toun tae toun.

216a. Sir Orfeo has been lately edited by Dr Oscar Zielke: Sir Orfeo, ein englisches Feenmärchen aus dem Mittelalter, mit Einleitung und Anmerkungen, Breslau, 1880.

P.218.D. b.Kinloch MSS, VII, 23. Insert again at p. 221.

F. a.Also in Motherwell's MS., p. 514. Insert again at p. 222.

I. a.Also in Motherwell's MS., p. 475. Insert again at p. 223.

Add:N.'The Loch o the Loanie,' Campbell MSS, II, 264.

219b. Add to the German versions of 'The Cruel Mother:'M.Pater Amand Baumgarten, Aus der volksmässigen Ueberlieferung der Heimat: IX, Geburt, Heirat, Tod, mit einem Anhang von Liedern, p. 140. ['Das ausgesetzte Kind.']N.A. Schlosser, Deutsche Volkslieder aus Steiermark, p. 336, No 306, 'Der alte Halter und das Kind' (not yet seen by me). (Köhler.)

220 a. A ballad of Slavic origin in Nesselmann's Littauische Volkslieder, No 380, p. 322, resembles the German and Wendish versions of 'The Cruel Mother,' with a touch of 'The Maid and the Palmer.' (G. L. Kittredge.)

220b, line 7. Read: Hausschatz.

225.

Campbell MSS, II, 264.

1As I lookit oer my father's castle wa,All alone and alone OI saw two pretty babes playing at the ba.Down by yon green-wood sidie2'O pretty babes, gin ye were mine,'Hey the loch o the Loanie'I would clead ye o the silk sae fine.'Down by that green-wood sidie3'O sweet darlings, gin ye were mine,'Hey the loch o the Loanie'I would feed ye on the morning's milk.'Down by that green-wood sidie4'O mither dear, when we were thine,'By the loch o the Loanie'Ye neither dressd us wi silk nor twine.'Down by this green-wood sidie5'But ye tuke out your little pen-knife,'By, etc.'And there ye tuke yer little babes' life.'Down by the, etc.6'O mither dear, when this ye had done,'Alone by, etc.'Ye unkirtled yersel, and ye wrapt us in 't.'Down by the, etc.7'Neist ye houkit a hole fornent the seen.'All alone and alone O'And tearless ye stappit your little babes in'Down by the, etc.8'But we are in the heavens high,'And far frae the loch o the Loanie'But ye hae the pains o hell to d[r]ie.'Before ye leave the green-wood sidie

1As I lookit oer my father's castle wa,All alone and alone OI saw two pretty babes playing at the ba.Down by yon green-wood sidie

2'O pretty babes, gin ye were mine,'Hey the loch o the Loanie'I would clead ye o the silk sae fine.'Down by that green-wood sidie

3'O sweet darlings, gin ye were mine,'Hey the loch o the Loanie'I would feed ye on the morning's milk.'Down by that green-wood sidie

4'O mither dear, when we were thine,'By the loch o the Loanie'Ye neither dressd us wi silk nor twine.'Down by this green-wood sidie

5'But ye tuke out your little pen-knife,'By, etc.'And there ye tuke yer little babes' life.'Down by the, etc.

6'O mither dear, when this ye had done,'Alone by, etc.'Ye unkirtled yersel, and ye wrapt us in 't.'Down by the, etc.

7'Neist ye houkit a hole fornent the seen.'All alone and alone O'And tearless ye stappit your little babes in'Down by the, etc.

8'But we are in the heavens high,'And far frae the loch o the Loanie'But ye hae the pains o hell to d[r]ie.'Before ye leave the green-wood sidie

226a.C.Cunningham, as Mr Macmath has reminded me, has made this stanza a part of another ballad, in Cromek's Remains, p. 223.

231.Catalan.The Romancerillo Catalan, in the new edition, p. 10, No 12, 'Magdalena,' gives another version, with the variations of eight more copies, that of the Observaciones being nowC.

232. Add:Italian.Ive, Canti popolari istriani, p. 366, No 14, 'S. Maria Maddalena.' Mary's father, dying, left her a castle of gold and silver, from whichone day she saw Jesus pass. She wept a fountain of tears to wash his feet, and dried his feet with her tresses. Then she asked for a penance. She wished to go into a cave without door or windows, sleep on the bare ground, eat raw herbs, and drink alittlesalt water; and this she did. In 'La Maddalena,' Guerrini, Alcuni C. p. romagnoli, p. 7, there is no penance.

P.236a.Spanish.Milá's new edition, Romancerillo Catalan, No 31, 'El romero acusado de robo,' pp 36-38, adds six copies, not differing in anything important. InC, the youth, un estudiant, n'era ros com un fil d'or, blanch com Santa Catarina.

I may note that Thomas Becket stands by his votaries when brought to the gallows as effectually as St James. See Robertson, Materials, etc., I, 369, 471, 515, 524.

238. Note[195]should have been credited to R. Köhler.

238b, second paragraph. Professor George Stephens informs me that the miracle of the cock is depicted, among scenes from the life of Jesus, on anantependiumof an altar, derived from an old church in Slesvig, and now in the Danish Museum. Behind a large table sits a crowned woman, and at her left stands a crowned man, who points to a dish from which a cock has started up, with beak wide open. At the queen's right stands an old woman, simply clad and leaning on a staff. This picture comes between the Magi announcing Christ's Birth and the Massacre of the Innocents, and the crowned figures are judged by Professor Stephens to be Herod and Herodias. Who the old woman should be it is not easy to say, but there can be no connection with St James. The work is assigned to the last part of the fourteenth century.

239. Most of the literature on the topic of the restoration of the roasted cock to life is collected by Dr R. Köhler and by Ferdinand Wolf, in Jahrbücher für romanische u. englische Literatur, III, 58 ff, 67 f. Dr Köhler now adds these notes: The miracle of St James, in Hermann von Fritslar's Heiligenleben, Pfeiffer's Deutsche Mystiker des vierzehnten Jahrhunderts, I, 168 f; Hahn, Das alte Passional (from the Golden Legend), p. 223, v. 47-p. 225, v. 85; Lütolf, Sagen, Bräuche und Legenden aus Lucern, u. s. w., p. 367, No 334; von Alpenburg, Deutsche Alpensagen, p. 137, No 135; Sepp, Altbayerischer Sagenschatz, pp 652 ff, 656 f.

239b. Three stone partridges on a buttress of a church at Mühlhausen are thus accounted for. In the early days of the Reformation a couple of orthodox divines, while waiting dinner, were discussing the prospect of the infection spreading to their good city. One of them, growing warm, declared that there was as much chance of that as of the three partridges that were roasting in the kitchen taking flight from the spit. Immediately there was heard a fluttering and a cooing in the region of the kitchen, the three birds winged their way from the house, and, lighting on the buttress of Mary Kirk, were instantly turned to stone, and there they are. Thüringen und der Harz, mit ihren Merkwürdigkeiten, u. s. w., VI, 20 f. (Köhler.)

240a. The monk Andrius has the scene between Judas and his mother as in Cursor Mundi, and attributes to Greek writers the opinion that the roasted cock was the same that caused Peter's compunction. Mussafia, Sulla legenda del legno della Croce, Sitz. Ber. der phil.-hist. Classe der Wiener Akad., LXIII, 206, note. (Köhler.)

"About the year 1850 I was on a visit to the rector of Kilmeen, near Clonakilty, in the county of Cork. My friend brought me to visit the ruins of an old castle. Over the open fireplace, in the great hall there was a stone, about two or three feet square, carved in the rudest fashion, and evidently representing our Lord's sufferings. There were the cross, the nails, the hammer, the scourge; but there was one piece of sculpture which I could not understand. It was a sort of rude semi-circle, the curve below and the diameter above, and at the junction a figure intended to represent a bird. My friend asked me what it meant. I confessed my ignorance. 'That,' said he, 'is the cock. The servants were boiling him for supper, but when the moment came to convict theapostlehe started up, perched on the side of the pot, and astonished the assembly by his salutation of the morning.'" Notes and Queries, 5th series, IX, 412 a. (Köhler.)

A heathen in West Gothland (Vestrogothia) had killed his herdsman, Torsten, a Christian, and was reproached for it by Torsten's wife. Pointing to an ox that had been slaughtered, the heathen answered: Tam Torstenum tuum, quem sanctum et in cœlis vivere existimas, plane ita vivum credo prout hunc bovem quem in frusta cædendum conspicis. Mirum dictu, vix verba finiverat, cum e vestigio bos in pedes se erexit vivus, stupore omnibus qui adstabant attonitis. Quare sacellum in loco eodem erectum, multaque miracula, præsertim in pecorum curatione, patrata. Ioannis Vastovii Vitis Aquilonia, sive Vitæ Sanctorum regni Sveo-gothici, emend. et illustr. Er. Benzelius filius, Upsaliæ, 1708, p. 59. (Köhler.)

240b. Man begegnet auf alten Holzschnitten einer Abbildung von Christi Geburt, welche durch die dabei stehenden Thiere erklärt werden soll. Der Hahn auf der Stange krähet da:Christus natus est!der Ochse brüllt mit überschnappender Stimme drein:Ubi?und das Lammlein bläheret die Antwort:Bethlehem!Rochholz, Alemannisches Kinderlied und Kinderspiel aus der Schweiz, p. 69 f. (Köhler.)

241a. Wer sind die ersten Vorbothen Gottes? Der Hahn, weil er kräht, "Christ ist geboren." Der Tauber, weil er ruft, "Wo?" Und der Ziegenbock, weil er schreit, "Z' Bethlehem." Pater Amand Baumgarten, Aus der volksmässigen Ueberlieferung der Heimat, I, Zur volksthümlichen Naturkunde, p. 94. (Köhler.)

Hahn: Kikeriki! Gott der Herr lebt!

Ochs: Wo? Wo?

Geiss: Mäh! zu Bethlehem!

Simrock, Das deutsche Kinderbuch, 2d ed., p. 173, No 719; 3d ed., p. 192, No 787. (Köhler.)

Quando Christo nasceu disse o gallo:Jesus-Christo e ná ... á ... á ... do(nádo). J. Leite de Vasconcellos, Tradiçôes populares de Portugal, p. 148, No 285 b.

242. Note. Add: W. Creizenach, Judas Ischarioth in Legende und Sage des Mittelalters, in Paul and Braune's Beiträge, II, 177 ff.

P.247b. Add:E.'Willie's Lyke-Wake.'a.Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 51.b.Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 122.

249b.Swedish.Add:D.Aminson, Bidrag till Södermanlands Kulturhistoria,II, 18.

French.'Le Soldat au Convent,' Victor Smith, Vielles Chansons recueillies en Velay et en Forez, p. 24, No 21, or Romania, VII, 73; Fleury, Littérature Orale de la Basse Normandie, p. 310, 'La Religieuse;' Poésies populaires de la France, III, fol. 289, fol. 297. A soldier who has been absent some years in the wars returns to find his mistress in a convent; obtains permission to see her for a last time, puts a ring on her finger, and then "falls dead." His love insists on conducting his funeral; the lover returns to life and carries her off.

249b.A. Magyar. The ballad of 'Handsome Tony' is also translated by G. Heinrich, in Ungarische Revue, 1883, p. 155.

The same story, perverted to tragedy at the end, in Golovatsky, II, 710, No 13, a ballad of the Carpathian Russians in Hungary.

250. Dr R. Köhler points out to me a German copy ofA,B,C, which I had overlooked, in Schröer, Ein Ausflug nach Gottschee, p. 266 ff, 'Hansel june.' The mother builds a mill and a church, and then the young man feigns death, as before. But a very cheap tragic turn is given to the conclusion when the young man springs up and kisses his love. She falls dead with fright, and he declares that since she has died for him he will die for her. So they are buried severally at one and the other side of the church, and two lily stocks are planted, which embrace "like two real married people;" or, a vine grows from one and a flower from the other.

252. This is the other form referred to at p. 247 a.

a.Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 51.b.Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs, I, 122.

1'If my love loves me, she lets me not know,That is a dowie chance;I wish that I the same could do,Tho my love were in France, France,Tho my love were in France.2'O lang think I, and very lang,And lang think I, I true;But lang and langer will I thinkOr my love o me rue.3'I will write a broad letter,And write it sae perfite,That an she winna o me rue,I'll bid her come to my lyke.'4Then he has written a broad letter,And seald it wi his hand,And sent it on to his true love,As fast as boy could gang.5When she looked the letter upon,A light laugh then gae she;But ere she read it to an end,The tear blinded her ee.6'O saddle to me a steed, father,O saddle to me a steed;For word is come to me this night,That my true love is dead.'7'The steeds are in the stable, daughter,The keys are casten by;Ye cannot won to-night, daughter,To-morrow ye'se won away.'8She has cut aff her yellow locks,A little aboon her ee,And she is on to Willie's lyke,As fast as gang could she.9As she gaed ower yon high hill head,She saw a dowie light;It was the candles at Willie's lyke,And torches burning bright.10Three o Willie's eldest brothersWere making for him a bier;One half o it was gude red gowd,The other siller clear.11Three o Willie's eldest sistersWere making for him a sark;The one half o it was cambric fine,The other needle wark.12Out spake the youngest o his sisters,As she stood on the fleer:How happy would our brother been,If ye'd been sooner here!13She lifted up the green covering,And gae him kisses three;Then he lookd up into her face,The blythe blink in his ee.14O then he started to his feet,And thus to her said he:Fair Annie, since we're met again,Parted nae mair we'se be.

1'If my love loves me, she lets me not know,That is a dowie chance;I wish that I the same could do,Tho my love were in France, France,Tho my love were in France.

2'O lang think I, and very lang,And lang think I, I true;But lang and langer will I thinkOr my love o me rue.

3'I will write a broad letter,And write it sae perfite,That an she winna o me rue,I'll bid her come to my lyke.'

4Then he has written a broad letter,And seald it wi his hand,And sent it on to his true love,As fast as boy could gang.

5When she looked the letter upon,A light laugh then gae she;But ere she read it to an end,The tear blinded her ee.

6'O saddle to me a steed, father,O saddle to me a steed;For word is come to me this night,That my true love is dead.'

7'The steeds are in the stable, daughter,The keys are casten by;Ye cannot won to-night, daughter,To-morrow ye'se won away.'

8She has cut aff her yellow locks,A little aboon her ee,And she is on to Willie's lyke,As fast as gang could she.

9As she gaed ower yon high hill head,She saw a dowie light;It was the candles at Willie's lyke,And torches burning bright.

10Three o Willie's eldest brothersWere making for him a bier;One half o it was gude red gowd,The other siller clear.

11Three o Willie's eldest sistersWere making for him a sark;The one half o it was cambric fine,The other needle wark.

12Out spake the youngest o his sisters,As she stood on the fleer:How happy would our brother been,If ye'd been sooner here!

13She lifted up the green covering,And gae him kisses three;Then he lookd up into her face,The blythe blink in his ee.

14O then he started to his feet,And thus to her said he:Fair Annie, since we're met again,Parted nae mair we'se be.

b."Given with some changes from the way the editor has heard it sung."

Back to Index Next