VII.
Epopees, chansons de geste, romantic ballads, occasional or ceremonial songs, nursery rhymes, singing-games, rustic dramas; to these must be added the great order of purely personal and lyrical songs, of which the unique and exclusive subject is love. Popular love songs have one quality in common: a sincerity which is not perhaps reached in the entire range of lettered amorous poetry. Love is to these singers a thing so serious that however high they fly, they do not outsoar what is to them the atmosphere of truth. "La passion parle là toute pure," as Molière said of the old song:
Si le roi m'avoit donné
Paris, sa grande ville,
Et qu'il me fallût quitter
L'amour de ma mie:
Je dirois au roi Henri
Reprenez votre Paris
J'aime mieux ma mie, oh gay!
J'aime mieux ma mie.
An immense, almost incredible, number of popular songs have been set down during the last twenty years by collectors who, like Tigri in Tuscany, and Pitrè in Sicily, have done honour to their birthlands, and an enduring service to literature. It has been seen that Italy, Portugal, and Spain have songs which, though differing in shape, are yet materially alike. Where was the original fount of this lyrical river? Some would look for it in Arabia, and cite the evident poetic fertility of those countries where Arab influence once prevailed. Others regard the existing passion-verse as a descendant of the mediæval poetry associated with Provence. Others, again, while admitting that there may have been modifications of form, find it hard to believe that there was ever a time, since the type was first established, when the southern peasant was dumb, or when he did not sing in substance very much as he does now.
Whatever theory be ultimately accepted, it is certain that the popular love-poetry of southern nations, such as it has been received direct from peasant lips, is not the least precious gift we owe to the untaught, uncultured poet, who after having been for long ages ignored or despised, is now raised to his rightful place near the throne of his illustrious brother, the perfect lettered poet. Pan sits unrebuked by the side of Apollo.
These introductory remarks are meant to do no more than to show the principal landmarks of folk-poetry. The subject is a wide one, as they best know who have given it the most careful attention. In the following essays, I have dealt with a few of its less familiar aspects. I would, in conclusion, express my gratitude to the indefatigable excavators of popular lore whose large labours have made my small work possible, and to all who have helped, whether by furnishing unedited specimens or by procuring copies of rare books. My cordial thanks are also due to the editors and publishers of the Cornhill Magazine, Fraser's Magazine, the National Review, the British Quarterly Review, the Revue Internationale, the Antiquary, and the Record and Journal of the Folk-lore Society, for leave to reprint such part of this book as had appeared in those publications.
Salò, Lago di Garda,
January 15 1886.
[Footnote 1:] Voltaire.
Sire cuens, j'ai vielé
Devant vous, en vostre osté;
Si ne m'avez, riens doné,
Ne mes gages aquité
C'est vilanie;
Foi que doi Sainte Marie!
Ainc ne vos sievrai je mie,
M'aumosniere est mal garnie
Et ma malle mal farsie.
Sire cuens, quar comandez
De moi vostre volonté.
Sire, s'il vous vient à gré
Un beau don car me donez
Par cortoisie.
Talent ai, n'en dotez mie,
De r'aler à ma mesnie.
Quant vois borse desgarnie,
Ma feme ne me rit mie.
Ains me dit: Sire Engelé
En quel terre avez esté,
Qui n'avez rien conquesté
Aval la ville?
Vez com vostre male plie,
Ele est bien de vent farsie.
Honi soit qui a envie
D'estre en vostre compaignie.
Quant je vieng à mon hosté
Et ma feme a regardé
Derier moi le sac enflé,
Et ge qui sui bien paré
De robe grise,
Sachiez qu'ele a tot jus mise
La quenoille, sans faintise.
Elle me rit par franchise,
Les deux bras au col me lie.
Ma feme va destrousser
Ma male, sanz demorer.
Mon garçon va abruver
Mon cheval et conreer.
Ma pucele va tuer
Deux chapons por deporter
A la sause aillie;
Ma fille m'apporte un pigne.
En sa main par cortoisie
Lors sui de mon ostel sire,
A mult grant joie, sans ire,
Plus que nus ne porroit dire.
[Footnote 3:] Not to speak of Charlemagne, who ordered a collection to be made of German songs.
[Footnote 4:] A fuller description of German harvest customs, with remarks on their presumed meaning, will be found in the Rev. J. Van den Gheyn's "Essais de Mythologie et de Philologie comparée," 1885.
[Footnote 5:] Mr W. R. S. Ralston has kindly communicated to me this Russian version, which he translates: "Snail, snail, put forth thy horns, I will give to thee cakes."
[Footnote 6:] "Les deux Masques," tome i. p. 1.
[Footnote 7:] "Confessions," book iii. chap. 11.
[Footnote 8:] "Shakespeare's Dramatic Art," 1876.