IIIAFFECTIONATE KISSES

Sur les lèvres de la jeunesseTu fais les plus douces moissons.(Dorat).

The young maiden will only give her love-kiss to her sweetheart, the stalwart swain; an old suitor is spurned with scorn. The lovely Mara, white and red, walked by the spring and tended her sheep:

See an old, old suitor comes riding up on horseback,Shouting: “God’s peace be thine, fair Mara, white and red.Tell me, canst thou offer me a draught of cold clear water;Tell me, can the basil ever verdant here be gathered,And may I snatch a kiss from thee, fair Mara, white and red?”W. F. H.

But straightway comes the answer from fair Mara, white and red:

“I charge thee, old, old suitor, to horse and ride hence quickly,No drink is here thy portion from the fountain cold and clear,And the ever-verdant basil by thee shall not be gathered,Nor durst thou snatch a kiss from me, fair Mara, white and red.”W. F. H.

Again, fair Mara, white and red, walked by the spring and tended her sheep:

See a young and handsome suitor comes riding up on horseback,Shouting: “God’s peace be thine, fair Mara, white and red.Tell me, canst thou offer me a draught of cold clear water;Tell me, can the basil ever verdant here be gathered,And may I snatch a kiss from thee, fair Mara, white and red?”W. F. H.

But straightway comes the answer from fair Mara, white and red:

“I charge thee, handsome laddie, to horse and ride hence quickly,Wouldst thou drink of this cool fountain, thou must hither come some morning,For cold and clear’s the water in the hours of early dawn.Wouldst thou gather from the bushes, thou must hither come at mid-day,For the flower-trees smell the sweetest about the noon-tide hour.Wouldst thou kiss the beauteous Mara, then hither come at evening,At evening sighs each maiden who finds herself alone.”W. F. H.

In another Servian ballad we find the same glorification of the stalwart young lover, the same contempt for, and detestation of, old men who go a-wooing.

High upon a mountain’s slope once stood a maiden,Mirroring her lovely image in the stream,And her image in these words addressing:‘Image fraught to me with so much sadnessHad I known a time was ever comingWhen thou shouldst be kissed by agèd lover,Then amidst the green hills I had wandered,Gath’ring with my hands their bitter herbage,Squeezing out of it its acrid juices,Washed thee then therewith that thou should’st savourBitterly wheresoe’r the old man kissed thee.’‘O my lovely image, had I known thatThou wert fated for a young man’s kisses,I had hurried to the verdant meadows,Gathered all the roses in the meadows,Squeezing from the roses their sweet juices,Laved thee with them, O mine image, that thouSavoured of fragrance wheresoe’r he kissed thee.’W. F. H.

‘O my lovely image, had I known thatThou wert fated for a young man’s kisses,I had hurried to the verdant meadows,Gathered all the roses in the meadows,Squeezing from the roses their sweet juices,Laved thee with them, O mine image, that thouSavoured of fragrance wheresoe’r he kissed thee.’W. F. H.

A kiss must be given and taken in frank, joyous affection. To have recourse to violence is unknightly, unlovely, and despicable in the highest degree. This is a sphere wherein the brutal axiom regarding the right of the stronger can never hold good. An Albanian folk-song tells us of a young man who is in search of a young maiden with whom he is in love; he finds her at a brook, and, against her will, kisses her mouth and cheeks. Filled with shame, the young maiden tries to wash away the kisses in the brook, but its water is dyed red, and “when the women in theneighbouring village come thither to wash their clothes, the latter turn red instead of white. And, in the gardens watered with water from the brook, scarlet flowers sprout up; and the birds which drank of the water thereof lost their power of song.”

This ballad shows us, in burning words, how deeply a man outrages a woman when he kisses her against the dictates of her heart. A Southern imagination alone can find an expression so sublime and poetical: in French it runs simply and frankly:Un baiser n’est rien, quand le cœur est muet. In Teutonic countries it is expressed somewhat more awkwardly. In Denmark people say:Kys med gevalt er æg uden salt(a kiss snatched by force is as an egg without salt); and in Germany still less elegantly:Ein aufgezwungener Kuss ist wie ein Hühneraug’ am Fuss(like a corn on one’s foot).

The question of kissing by main force can be treated not only from an ethical, but also from a juristic point of view. Holberg relates that in Naples the individual who kissed in the street a woman against her will was punished by not being allowed to approach within thirty miles distance of the spot wherethe outrage had taken place; and a German jurist wrote in the end of the eighteenth century, a minute and extremely solid treatise on the remedy that a woman has against a man who kisses her against her will (Von dem Rechte des Frauenzimmers gegen eine Mannperson, die es wider seinen Willen küsset). The author begins by classifying kisses; he distinguishes between lawful and unlawful kisses, and frames the following classification:—

Kisses are either

After this particularly happy attempt to reduce kissing to a system, our jurist maintains the view that all depends on the person who kisses and the person who is kissed.

If, for instance, a peasant or a vulgar citizen takes such a liberty as to kiss a noble and high-born lady against her will, her claim against the aggressor ought to be far greater than it would be in the case of one of less ignoble descent; but, on the other hand, if Hans steals from his Greta “an informal, hearty, rustic kiss,” and she complains to the authorities about it, there will scarcely be any grounds for litigation.

On the whole, says he, a kiss between individuals of the same position in society is not to be regarded as a tort, and he more closelydefines how he arrives at this conception. It can only be actionable in the case of a party having some consciously unchaste intention when he kissed, or in the case of anosculum luxuriosumorlibidinosum—in such cases only can a verdict be brought in of what, according to Roman law, is termedcrimen osculationis, and in no other case can the wrong-doer be punished by fine or imprisonment,propter voluntatem perniciosæ libidinis. The punishment, however, should be proportioned in severity according to the rank of the injured party. In the case of a nun or a married woman it ought to be most severe; less severe if the lady be unmarried but betrothed, and mildest when she is neither married nor betrothed.

But if the unchaste intention cannot be distinctly proved, the woman has no grounds for complaining of any sort, and, in accordance with the procedure of the German courts, the kiss is to be considered innocent till the contrary is proved.

Our jurist thus takes a really liberal view in the case of a “kiss taken by force”; he may almost be said to regard it aseine grosse Kleinigkeit(an unimportant trifle).

With regard to the question of a woman’sright to defend herself in such cases, he is of opinion that she is justified in repulsing the insulter by a box on the ears, but only if the offence amounts tocrimen osculationis, and this box on the ears may not be inflicted with “the fist of an Amazon,” as, by such requital, she easily loses her right to take legal action in the matter. She must, above all, be careful that the box on the ears be not excessive (die Ohrfeige proportionirlich einzukleiden), as otherwise the man can bring an action against her; consequently the woman ought to use her right of self-defence with great caution.

Our jurist concludes with considerations of cases when the woman who has been kissed forfeits all claims, viz., when, for instance, by look or gestures she says, “I should like to see the man who would dare to kiss me,” and, by such conduct, obviously exposes herself to the danger.

Holberg has also occupied himself with this question, and tells the following story in one of his epistles (No. 199):—

“Last week I was at a party where a curious incident happened. A person stole up to a lady and gave her a kiss unexpectedly. TheVestal virgin took thisdouceurin such ill part that, in her wrath, she gave him a sound box on the ears. He gave a start, and every one expected he was going to pay her back in the same coin; but, to show his respect for the fair sex, he made a low bow, and kissed the very hand that had but lately struck him. All present praised this act of courtesy, on his part.” Holberg, on the contrary, does not commend the man’s politeness; like the German jurist, he sees nothing wrong about a kiss—indeed, he even goes so far as to say that the young man ought to have given the maiden a box on the ears in return. This coarse way of looking at the subject from a bachelor’s point of view is wittily defended in the following rather startling way:

“I candidly confess that if anything of the kind had happened to me I should have returned the good lady’s salutation in the same way, and that not out of anger or desire of being revenged, but for the purpose of showing the courtesy with which one ought to treat a woman; for kissing the lady on the hand which has boxed his ears is equivalent to saying: ‘As you are a feeble creature of no importance, and cannot hurt me,your act deserves ridicule rather than revenge or rage.’ No sensible woman can be pleased with such a compliment, as there is nothing worse than being treated like a puppet; and I hope no maid or matron will take this opinion of mine in ill part, but will rather regard it as a proof of the justice I have always shown to women by always taking them seriously. A kiss is nothing but a salutation, and cannot be looked on as anything else. We are no longer living in the golden age, when a young lady almost fainted at hearing the word pronounced.”

English ladies regard the matter from quite another point of view. In 1837 Mr Thomas Saverland brought an action against Miss Caroline Newton, who had bitten a piece out of his nose for his having tried to kiss her by way of a joke. The defendant was acquitted, and the judge laid it down that “when a man kisses a woman against her will she is fully entitled to bite his nose, if she so pleases.”—“And eat it up, if she has a fancy that way,” added a jocular barrister half aloud.

Let us next consider how the thing stands when it is apparently only a question of a kiss snatched by force—for it is, you know,a matter of general knowledge that a woman’s “No” is not always to be taken seriously. The refusal may, you know, be merely feigned. The maiden’s “No” is the swain’s “Yes,” Peder Syv teaches us, and Runeberg, who also understood women, says:—

Ev’ry girl is fond of kisses,Though she may pretend to scorn them.W. F. H.

If one is now convinced that the German proverb which says:Auf ein Weibes Zunge ist Nein nicht Nein(On a woman’s tongue “no” is not “no”), what then? Well, but how the point is to be finally settled is not satisfactorily explained by the authorities within my reach; and this is the reason why I dare not pronounce an opinion on the question at issue. But I am convinced that the momentary difficulty will afford the man the necessary diplomatic qualities as well as the requisite tact. There is only one thing I can lay down for certain, viz., that if a man follows his natural simplicity and reserve, and takes the girl’s feigned “No” seriously, she will only laugh at him afterwards—such, again, is woman’s nature.

A well-known Frenchchansondeals witha hunter who meets a young girl out in the forest. Struck by her beauty, he wants to kiss her:

And takes her by her white hand,Intending to caress her;W. F. H.

but she begins to cry, and, moved by her tears, he releases her; but he has hardly got clear of the wood before she begins to laugh at him heartily, and in derision shouts after him: “When you’ve got hold of a quail you ought to pluck it, and when you’ve got hold of a girl you ought to embrace her”:

Quand vous teniez la caille,Il fallait la plumer.Quand vous teniez la fillette,Il fallait l’embrasser.

I quote these verses, for they may possibly afford inexperienced young men some matter for reflection.

Besides, a woman’s “No” has often a piquancy about it which lovers of a somewhat more refined class set great store by. Even Martial (v. 46) has expressed himself in favour of this in a little epigram which begins thus:

While ev’ry joy I scorn, but that I snatch;And me thy furies more than features catch.

And Marot, who was likewise much skilled in “ars amandi,” even begs his mistress not to give him her kisses readily:

Mouth of coral, rare and bright,That in kissing seems to bite;Longed-for mouth, I pray you this:Feign deny me when you kiss.W. F. H.

Dorat has also expressed himself in favour of such. “Promise me nine kisses,” says he to his Thais, “give me eight, and let me struggle for the ninth.”

The first eight kisses you accordWill crown my love’s felicity;But I shall die in joy’s rewardIf for the ninth a struggle be.W. F. H.

Even if the answer is not a decided negative, yet it can, you know, be couched in such equivocal words as to be tantamount to neither a permission nor a refusal. Many girls agree with the Swedish song:

But “yes” ’s a word I will not say,Nor will I either answer “nay.”W. F. H.

There is a saying in Jutland that runs thus: “Maren, may I kiss you?—Guess. You won’t then, I suppose?—Guess once more?You will?—But how could you guess it then?” This tallies capitally with the following German saying: “Zwinge mich, so thu’ ich keine Sünde,” sagte das Mädchen(“Constrain me, so that I shall not commit sin,” said the maiden). Naturally in this case, there can be no question of anycrimen osculationis, for, as the jurists have it,volenti non fit injuria.

Let us finally examine all these kisses from an ethical standpoint. We have all of us, you know, learnt from our earliest childhood that—

He who kisses maidens hathA very naughty habit;W. F. H.

and popular belief adds, by way of warning, that it causes sores on the mouth. Ah, yes, that is certainly very true, but what becomes of our childish lore in the main when we attain to somewhat riper age? Now, only listen to the ballad about what happened in the case of the young Serb, in spite of all he had learnt:

Here, so people told us,Dwells a youth industrious,Who from ancient volumesLate and early studies.As for books they tell us:Don’t vault on the saddle,Buckle not thy sword on,Drink no wine that fuddles,Never kiss a maiden.But the young man harkensNot to what they tell him:Keenest sword he seizes,Hottest wine he drinketh,Fairest maids he kisses.W. F. H.

Here, so people told us,Dwells a youth industrious,Who from ancient volumesLate and early studies.

As for books they tell us:Don’t vault on the saddle,Buckle not thy sword on,Drink no wine that fuddles,Never kiss a maiden.

But the young man harkensNot to what they tell him:Keenest sword he seizes,Hottest wine he drinketh,Fairest maids he kisses.W. F. H.

When so learned a man as our Serb succumbs to the tempting kiss, what is to be said then about all the rest who are less instructed? And let us remember ere we sit in judgment on any one—and it ought to be regarded as peculiarly extenuating circumstances—that a woman’s mouth is a direct incentive to kissing, that it is formed, as you know, for that purpose, asserts an old troubadour, and created to kiss and smile:—

And when I gazed upon her red mouth sweet,To match whose charms not Jove himself were meet,That mouth for laughter and for kisses framed,I fell thereof so amorous straightwayThat I lacked power to do aught or to say.W. F. H.

The roguish mouth with the white teeth and the moist red, delicately-shaped lips say toevery man who is not made of marble, “Kiss me, kiss me”:

Her fresh mouth’s playingSeems ever sayingTo kiss I am fainAgain, again.W. F. H.

How human is Byron’s wish that all women had but one mouth so that he might kiss them all at the same time:

That womankind had but one rosy mouth,To kiss them all at once from north to south.

Runeberg has uttered a similar wish, and with a minute account of his reasons:

I gaze on a bevy of damsels,I’m gazing and gazing incessant,The fairest of all I’ll be choosing,And yet as to choice I’m uncertain;For one has the brightest of bright eyes,Another girl’s cheeks are more rosy,A third one’s lips are the riper,The fourth has a heart far more tender.There isn’t a single maid lackingA something that captures my senses.There isn’t one there I’d say “no” to,Oh, would I might kiss the whole bevy!W. F. H.

Even an ecclesiastic such as Æneas Silvius Piccolomini, when wishing to describe how beautiful and fascinating a young girl was,writes that “no one could see her without being seized at once with a desire to kiss her.” So as not to shock my readers, I may mention that he wrote this before he was made Pope and assumed the name of Pius II.

It ought now to be taken as proved that women—beautiful women—and kisses are of a piece. It is at the same time nature’s ordinance, and we find it verified in all countries and in all ages. Odin himself says, you know, in Hávamál, where he instructs mortals in the wisdom of life:

Ships are for voyages,And shields for ward,Sword-blades to smite,And maids to kiss.W. F. H.

And the Greeks sing: “Wine belongs to chestnuts, honey to nuts, and kisses morning and night to young maids.”

I am inclined to assume that women also agree with this view; certainly I have no positive enunciation to support my assumption, but I am able to quote a German proverb which most assuredly points in this direction: “Ich kann das Küssen nicht leiden,”sagte das Mädchen, “wenn ich nicht dabei bin” (“I cannotbear kissing,” said the maiden, “when I am not taking any part in it.”)

Now if, in spite of all I have quoted, some rigid moralist or other will persist that kissing young maids is always a “bad” habit, and if, peradventure, a still sterner moralist will maintain it is a sin into the bargain, I should reply that, in any case, it is one of those sorts of sin that are venial. The Pope himself will not refuse his absolution, say the Italians, and they certainly ought to understand things in Rome. “Kiss me,” runs an Italian folk-song, “the Pope will forgive you; kiss me and I will kiss you, and the Pope will forgive us both.”

O bella figlia, o bella garzona,Baciate me, chè il Papa vi perdona;Baciate me, chè io bacerò vui,Chè il Papa ci perdona tutti e dui.

If the Pope is so complaisant then, to be sure, a subordinate servant of the Church such as Aarestrup’s Father Hugo may well say:

Child, a kiss is but a trifle,If it’s only long and sweet.W. F. H.

Seigneur, tu m’as donné les baisers de ma mère,Je te bénis, Seigneur!F. E. Adam.

I bless thee, O Lord, for having given me my mother’s kisses.

Akisscan also express feelings from which the erotic element is excluded—feelings that are consequently less ardent and longing, but, most frequently, far deeper and more lasting.

A kiss is expressive of love in the widest and most comprehensive meaning of the word, bringing a message of loyal affection, gratitude, compassion, sympathy, intense joy, and profound sorrow. In the first place a kiss is the expression of the deep and intense feeling which knits parents to their offspring. At its entrance into the world the little helpless infant is received by its father’s and mother’s warm kiss. In the Middle Ages they kissed the new-born baby thrice in the name of the Holy Trinity. And the parent’s kiss follows the child through life.When Hector takes leave of his wife Andromache he lifts his little son up into his arms, but the child is afraid of his father’s helmet, “of the gleam of the copper and the nodding crest of horse-hair.”

And from his browHector the casque removed, and set it down,All glittering, on the ground; then kissed his child,And danced him in his arms.[9]

The Evangelist Luke tells the story of the Prodigal Son’s return home. “But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck, and kissed him.”

The parent’s kiss is like the good angel which shields the child from all evil. When Johannes in Sören Kierkegaard’sForførerens dagbogwould describe the impression made on him by Cordelia he says, “She looked so young and fresh, as if nature like a tender and opulent mother had that very instant released her from her hand,” and he goes on to say: “It seemed to me as if I had been witness to this farewell scene; I marked how the loving mother once again embraced her and bade her farewell; I heard her say:’Go out into the world now, my child; I have done all for you. Now take this kiss as a seal upon your lips; ’tis a seal the sanctuary preserves; no one can break it against your own will, but when the right man comes, you shall understand him.’ And she presses a kiss on her lips—a kiss which, not like a human kiss, takes aught, but a divine kiss that gives all.” The chaste purity, which is Cordelia’s halo and protection, is, as it were, the reflection of a mother’s kiss.

It is for this reason also that in thesagasa quite irresistible power is attributed to the parent’s kiss. When Vildering, the king’s son, quits Maid Miseri and journeys alone to his parents to tell them what has befallen him, she implores him to be especially careful not to let his parents kiss him, “for should that happen, you will forget me utterly.” In spite of his caution his mother kisses him, and oblivion covers the past; he forgets his betrothed, who is sitting and waiting for him in the depths of the forest.

Kisses of affection are exchanged not only between parents and children, but between all the members of the same family; we find them even outside the more narrowfamily circle, everywhere where deep affection unites people.

When Naomi bade her son’s wife farewell, “they lifted up their voice and wept again; and Orpah kissed her mother-in-law; but Ruth clave unto her.” When Moses went to meet his father-in-law, “he did obeisance and kissed him; and they asked each other of their welfare; and they came into the tent;” and when Jacob had wrestled with the Lord he met Esau, ran towards him, fell on his neck and kissed him.

The family kiss was also much in vogue with the Romans. Propertius, in one of his elegies, chides his mistress for inventing quitead libituma whole crowd of relations so as always to have at hand some one to kiss her. This is how that came to pass: In ancient times there was a so-calledjus osculi, which allowed all a woman’s relations to kiss her. There are several curious stories about this peculiar privilege. The old traditions, which have been solemnly discussed by several writers, relate that once upon a time women were forbidden to drink wine; the above-mentioned law must have been instituted so that the partiesconcerned should, in a pleasant and practical way, be able to satisfy themselves about observing the prohibition. This highly improbable explanation has been defended in a thesis for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy even in the eighteenth century.

The kiss of affection is often mentioned by the early Greeks. Odysseus, on reaching his home, meets his faithful shepherds, discloses his identity to them, and shows them, as a certain proof, the cicatrix of a wound that he had on one occasion received when out hunting:

“But come, another token most manifest will I show,That the truth in your souls may be strengthened, and my very self ye may know.Lo the scar of the hurt, which the wood-boar with his white tooth drave on a tide,When with Autolycus’ children I sought Parnassus’ side!”[10]So saying, the rags about him from the mighty weal he drew,And they twain looked upon it, and all the tale they knew;And they wept, and o’er wise Odysseus they cast their hands, they twain,And kissed his head and his shoulders, and loved him and were fain.[11]

So saying, the rags about him from the mighty weal he drew,And they twain looked upon it, and all the tale they knew;And they wept, and o’er wise Odysseus they cast their hands, they twain,And kissed his head and his shoulders, and loved him and were fain.[11]

In the same hearty manner the shepherd Eumæus received Odysseus’ son on the latter’s return from his journey, and lucky escape from the treacherous plot of the suitors:

And on the head he kissed him, and both his eyes so fair,And both his hands, moreover, and he shed a mighty tear;And e’en as a loving father makes much of his dear son,Who has come from an alien country where the tenth long year is done,His only son and darling for whom he hath travailed sore,E’en so the goodly swineherd now kisseth him o’er and o’erTelemachus the godlike, as one escaped from death.[A]

He gets the same reception from his old nurse and his mother:

But the nurse, e’en Euryclea, beheld him first of allAs the fleecy fells she was spreading o’er the painted seats of the hall,And, weeping, went straight toward him; and the other maids theretoOf Odysseus hardy-hearted, all round about him drew,And they kissed him and caressed him, his shoulders and his head.[12]. . . . . . . . . .Then Penelope the wise-heart from her chamber forth she sped,Like to golden Aphrodite or Artemis the fair,And she cast her arms amidst weeping round her son beloved and dear;And therewithal she kissed him, his head and his lovely eyes.[13]

We have another famous scene of recognition, but of far later date, in the old French epic of Girart de Roussillon. Girart, after many years’ absence, returns in poverty and sickness to France. He presents himself to the queen, who recognises him by means of a ring, and, “although it was Good Friday, she fell on Girart’s neck and kissed him seven times.”

It would perhaps be superfluous to quote more instances of the kisses of affection. We meet with it in all ages in grave and solemn moments, not only among those who love each other, but also as an expression of profound gratitude. When the Apostle Paul took leave of the elders of the congregation at Ephesus, “they all wept sore, and fell on Paul’s neck and kissed him” (Acts xx. 37).

When De Malesherbes had solicited for himself the perilous honour of undertakingthe defence of Louis XVI., that monarch got up and, in order to show his gratitude, kissed him publicly.

Even among persons who are utter strangers to each other, kisses such as these may be exchanged. The profoundest sympathy with, the warmest interest in, another’s weal or woe can be instantly created.

The story of Ingeborg Vinding and Poul Vendelbo Løvenørn is well known. H. P. Giessing relates it, just as he heard it, in the following form: Poul Vendelbo, the poor student, went one day on the ramparts round Copenhagen, and walked with two rich noblemen who, like himself, had matriculated at the university from Horsen’s School. They happened to notice a singularly beautiful woman sitting at the window of one of the adjacent houses. One of the noblemen then said half-mockingly to Vendelbo, “Now, if you could get a kiss from that lady, Poul, we would defray the expenses of that tour abroad which you are so anxious to make.” Vendelbo took him at his word, went up to the beautiful lady, and told her how his whole future possibly depended on her. She then drew him towards the window, and, inthe view of the nobleman, gave him the kiss he craved. He went abroad, and, returning at last as Adjutant-General Løvenørn, paid the fair lady a visit. She was none other than Ingeborg Vinding.

This is the anecdote, equally characteristic of both parties, that Carl Ploug has so prettily treated in his poemEt Kys(A Kiss).

The professor’s daughter is sitting alone in the sitting-room, and “humming a song she has learnt by heart.” Then some one knocks at the door, and in steps young Poul with his audacious request; first she will refuse him indignantly:

Ere yet a word she utteredShe raised her eyes again.Their angry flash should witherThat overbold young swain.But, ah, he stood so quiet,With such a modest grace,With features stamped with honour,And such a noble face.Once more the maiden’s glancesLooked down, their anger dead,And with a blush deliciousShe spoke him fair instead.“ ’Twas wrong indeed, I take it,That you should boldly dareAddress a well-born maidenBy stealth with such a prayer.“But if your looks belie not,You good and noble are,And so your path to fortuneI should be loth to mar.”Then by the hand she leads himTo where the window is,She blushes and she trembles;They interchange a kiss.W. F. H.

Ere yet a word she utteredShe raised her eyes again.Their angry flash should witherThat overbold young swain.

But, ah, he stood so quiet,With such a modest grace,With features stamped with honour,And such a noble face.

Once more the maiden’s glancesLooked down, their anger dead,And with a blush deliciousShe spoke him fair instead.

“ ’Twas wrong indeed, I take it,That you should boldly dareAddress a well-born maidenBy stealth with such a prayer.

“But if your looks belie not,You good and noble are,And so your path to fortuneI should be loth to mar.”

Then by the hand she leads himTo where the window is,She blushes and she trembles;They interchange a kiss.W. F. H.

It would be superfluous to say more about this poem, which I suppose is the most popular of Ploug’s essays in epic narrative. How far the anecdote is historical is uncertain; but with the knowledge we have of his and her character it cannot, in any case, be regarded as improbable. Ploug may thus be right when he says:

A kiss has with its gentle flameOnce kindled honour’s beacon high;A kiss has given Denmark’s fameA hero’s name that shall not die.W. F. H.

In early French literature there is a story somewhat akin to this; it occurs in the oldmiracle play of “La Marquise de la Gaudine.” In her husband’s absence she has been falsely accused of adultery and thrown into prison. Nobody dares to undertake her defence when, suddenly, a knight named Anthenor steps up and offers, with sword in hand, to undertake the defence of her innocence, having a long time back owed her a deep debt of gratitude for having, on one occasion, saved his life by a kiss. He himself tells us naïvely and ingenuously how it happened: “Once upon a time I found myself, as you are aware, in peril of death; the king suspected me and believed I aspired to his wife’s favour. Ah, this was not the case at all, you know. But one day he said he would believe me if I divulged to him who my sweetheart was. I did not know what to do, and to save my life I said that themarquisewas myamie. He was not, however, content with this, but, as a proof, demanded that I should take her by the waist in his presence and ask her for a kiss. She gave it me and thus saved me from the snare the king had laid. I shall never be able to repay her for what she has done for me.”

The kiss of affection is also bestowed onsome person or thing that excites detestation and abhorrence.

The legends of St Martin tell us how, on coming one day to Lutetia, followed by a great crowd of people, he caught sight of a leper at the gate of the city, who was so terrible an object to look at that everybody turned away from him with loathing. To give those who followed him a lesson in Christian charity, he went up to the poor sick man, kissed and blessed him, and on the following morning the latter was cured as by a miracle.

It is just through overcoming oneself in respect to that which is intrinsically foul and repugnant that this kiss gets its high significance and dignity. St Francis of Assisi had bidden farewell to an existence of luxury, bestowed his wealth on the necessitous, and lived the life of a beggar, but his conversion was still incomplete; he did not become ripe for his great work of charity until he had overcome his repugnance to the leprous. One day, when out riding, he met one of these wretched sufferers, whose whole body was like a great open wound, and he reined his horse aside in disgust; butshame overtook him at once, he leapt off his horse, spoke kindly to the sick man, gave him what money he had, and kissed both his hands. Such is the account given by the historical chronicles, but the legend goes on to say that the leper immediately afterwards vanished: it was Christ Himself who wished, in this wise, to bestow His benediction on the noble and beautiful life’s work of the saint.

The kiss of affection also plays an important part in folk-poetry; that alone has power to cast off spells, that alone breaks all the bonds of witchcraft and sorcery, and is able to restore man to his original shape.

In the Scotch ballad of Kempion we are told how the Earl of Estmereland’s daughter is persecuted by her wicked stepmother, who at last by magic arts changes her into a snake:

Cum heir, cum heir, ye freely feedAnd lay your head low on my knee;The heaviest weird I will you read,That ever was read to gay ladye.O meikle dolour sall ye dree,And aye the salt seas o’er ye’se swim;And far mair dolour sall ye dree,On Estmere crags, when ye them climb.“I weired ye to a fiery beast,And relieved sall ye never be,Till Kempion, the king’s son,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss thee.”O meikle dolour did she dree,And aye the salt seas o’er she swam;And far mair dolour did she dreeOn Estmere crags, when she them clamb.And aye she cried for Kempion,Gin he would but come to her hand.

Cum heir, cum heir, ye freely feedAnd lay your head low on my knee;The heaviest weird I will you read,That ever was read to gay ladye.

O meikle dolour sall ye dree,And aye the salt seas o’er ye’se swim;And far mair dolour sall ye dree,On Estmere crags, when ye them climb.

“I weired ye to a fiery beast,And relieved sall ye never be,Till Kempion, the king’s son,Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss thee.”

O meikle dolour did she dree,And aye the salt seas o’er she swam;And far mair dolour did she dreeOn Estmere crags, when she them clamb.

And aye she cried for Kempion,Gin he would but come to her hand.

At last Kempion hears her voice, and straightway rows towards the foot of the mountain:

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