Story of the Three Young Brahmans who Restored a Dead Lady to Life.

Bráhman Agnisvámin has a beautiful daughter, Mandáravatí. Three young Bráhmans, equally matched in accomplishments, come to Agnisvámin, and demand the daughter, each for himself. Her father refuses, fearing to cause the death of any one of them. Mandáravatí remains unmarried. The three suitors stay at her house day and night, living on the sight of her. Then Mandáravatí suddenly dies of a fever. The three Bráhmans take her body to the cemetery and burn it. One builds a hut there, and makes her ashes his bed; the second takes her bones, and goes with them to the sacred river Ganges; the third becomes an ascetic, and sets out travelling.

While roaming about, the third suitor reaches a village, where he is entertained by a Bráhman. From him the ascetic steals a magic book that will restore life to dead ashes. (He has seen its power proved after his hostess, in a fit of anger, throws her crying child into the fire.) With his magic book he returns to the cemetery before the second suitor has thrown the maiden’s bones into the river. After having the first Bráhman remove the hut he had erected, the ascetic, reading the charm and throwing some dust on the ashes of Mandáravatí, causes the maiden to rise up alive, more beautiful than ever. Then the three quarrel about her, each claiming her as his own. The first says, “She is mine, for I preserved her ashes and resuscitated her by asceticism.” The second says, “She belongs to me, for she was produced by the efficacy of sacred bathing-places.” The third says, “She is my wife, for she was won by the power of my charm.”

The vetâla, who has been telling the story, now puts the question to King Vikramasena. The king rules as follows: “The third Bráhman must be considered as her father; the second, as her son; and the first, as her husband, for he lay in the cemetery embracing her ashes, which was an act of deep affection.”

A modern link is the Georgian folk-tale of “The King and the Apple” (Wardrop, No. XVI), in which the king’s magic apple tells three riddle-stories to the wonderful boy:—

(1) A woman is travelling with her husband and brother. The party meets brigands, and the two men are decapitated. Their heads are restored to them by the woman through the help of a magic herb revealed to her by a mouse. However, she gets her husband’s head on her brother’s body. Q.—Which man is the right husband? A.—The one with the husband’s head.

(2) A joiner, a tailor, and a priest are travelling. When night comes, they appoint three watches. The joiner, for amusement, cuts down a tree and carves out a man. The tailor, in his turn, takes off his clothes and dresses the figure. The priest, when his turn comes, prays for a soul for the image, and the figure becomes alive. Q.–Who made the man? A.—He who gave him the soul.

(3) A diviner, a physician, and a swift runner are met together. The diviner says, “There is a certain prince ill with such and such a disease.” The physician says, “I know a cure.” The swift runner says, “I will run with it.” The physician prepares the medicine, the runner runs with it, and the prince is cured. Q.—Who cured the king’s son? A.—He who made the medicine.

These three stories, with their framework, appear to be descended in part from the Ardschi-Bordschi saga. A connection between the third and our type II is obvious.

A Bohemian form of this type is No. 4 of Wratislaw’s collection.

(II) Type II, according to Benfey, also originated in India. The oldest known form of the story is the “Vetâlapancaviṇçati,” No. 5. A brief summary of Somadeva’s version, “The Story of Somaprabhá and her Three Suitors” (Tawney, 2 : 258–260), may be given here:—

In Ujjayiní there lived a Bráhman who had an excellent son and a beautiful proud daughter. When the time for her to be married came, she told her mother to give the following message to her father and her brother: “I am to be given in marriage only to a person possessed of heroism, knowledge, or magic power.”

A noble Brahman (No. 1) in time came to the father and asked for his daughter’s hand. When told of the conditions, he said, “I am possessed of magic power,” and to demonstrate, he made a chariot and took the father for a ride in the clouds. Then Harisvámin, the father, promised his daughter to the Bráhman possessed of magic power, and set the marriage day seven days hence.

Another Bráhman (No. 2) came and asked the son for his sister’s hand. When told the conditions, he said that he was a hero, and he displayed his skill in the use of weapons. The brother, ignorant of what his father had done, promised his sister’s hand to this man, and by the advice of an astrologer he selected the same day for the wedding as his father had selected.

A third Bráhman (No. 3) on that same day asked the mother for her daughter’s hand, saying that he was possessed of wisdom. Ignorant of what her husband and her son had done, she questioned this Bráhman about the past and the future, and at length promised him her daughter’s hand on the same seventh day.

On the same day, then, three bridegrooms appeared, and, strange to say, on that very day the bride disappeared. No. 3, with his knowledge, discovered that she had been carried off by a Rákshasa. No. 1 made a chariot equipped with weapons, and the three suitors and Harisvámin were carried to the Rákshasa’s abode. There No. 2 fought and killed the demon, and all returned with the maiden. A dispute then arose among the Bráhmans as to which was entitled to the maiden’s hand. Each set forth his claim.

The vetâla, who has been telling the story, now makes King Vikramasena decide which deserves the girl. The king says that the girl ought to be given to No. 2, who risked his life in battle to save her. Nos. 1 and 3 were only instruments; calculators and artificers are always subordinate to others.

The story next passed over into Mongolia, growing by the way. The version in the “Siddhi-Kür,” No. 13, is interesting, because it shows our story already linked up with another cycle, the “True Brothers.” Only the last part, which begins approximately where the companions miss the rich youth, corresponds to the Sanscrit above. (This Mongolian version may be found in English in Busk, 105–114.) The story then moved westward, and we next meet it in the Persian and the Turkish “Tûtî-nâmah,” “The Story of the Beautiful Zehra.” (For an English rendering from the Persian, see “The Tootinameh; or, Tales of a Parrot,” Persian text with English translation [Calcutta, 1792], pp. 111–114.)

W. A. Clouston (Clouston 3, 2 : 277–288) has discussed this group of stories, and gives abstracts of a number of variants that Benfey does not mention: Dozon, “Albanian Tales,” No. 4; a Persian manuscript text of the “Sindibád Náma;” a Japanese legend known as early as the tenth century; the “1001 Nights” story of “Prince Ahmed and the Peri Bánú;” Powell and Magnussen’s “Icelandic Legends,” pp. 348–354, “The Story of the Three Princes;” Von Hahn, “Contes Populaires Grecs” (Athens and Copenhagen, 1879), No. II, p. 98. Of these he says (p. 285), “We have probably the original of all these different versions in the fifth of the ‘Vetálapanchaviṇsati,’ ”—but hardly from No. 5 alone, probably in combination with Nos. 2 and 22 (cf. above). At least, the Arabian, Icelandic, and Greek forms cited by Clouston include the search for trades or magic objects by rival brothers, a detail not found in No. 5, but occurring in Nos. 22 and 2. Clouston calls attention to the fact that in No. 5 and in the “Tûtî-nâmah” version the damsel is not represented as being ill, while in the “Sindibád-Námá” and in the Arabian version she is so represented.

(III) The third type seems to be of European origin. It is perhaps best represented by Grimm, No. 124, “The Three Brothers.” In his notes, Grimm calls this story an old lying and jesting tale, and says that it is apparently very widespread. He cites few analogues of it, however. He does mention an old one (sixteenth century) which seems to be the parent of the German story. It is Philippe d’Alcripe’s “Trois frères, excellens ouvriers de leurs mestiers” (No. 1 in the 1853 Paris edition, Biblioth. Elzevirien). As in Grimm, the three skilled brothers in the French tale are a barber, a horse-shoer, and a swordsman; and the performances of skill are identical in the two stories. The French version, however, ends with the display of skill: no decision is made as to which is entitled to receive the “petite maison,” the property that the father wishes to leave to the son who proves himself to be the best craftsman. Our fifth story, the Bicol variant, clearly belongs to this type, although it has undergone some modifications, and has been influenced by contact with other cycles.

(IV) The fourth type represents the form to which our four printed stories most closely approximate. As remarked above, it is a combination of the third and the second types. This combination appears to have been developed in Europe, although, as may be seen from the analysis of “Vetâlapancaviṇcati,” No. 2, it might easily have been suggested by the Sanscrit. Compare also the “Siddhi-Kür” form of type II, where, although not brothers, and six in number instead of three, the six comrades set out to seek their fortunes. But here there is no suggestion of the six acquiring skill: they have that before they separate.

The earliest known European version of this type is Morlini’s, Nov. 30 (about 1520). His Latin was translated by Straparola (about 1553) in the “Tredici piacevoli Notti,” VII, 5. In outline his version runs about as follows:—

Three brothers, sons of a poor man, voluntarily leave home to seek their fortunes, promising to return in ten years. After determining on a meeting-place, they separate. The first takes service with soldiers, and becomes expert in the art of war: he can scale walls, dagger in hand. The second becomes a master shipwright. The third spends his time in the woods, and becomes skilled in the tongues of birds. After ten years they meet again, as appointed. While they are sitting in an inn, the youngest hears a bird say that there is a great treasure hidden by the corner-stone of the inn. This they dig up, and return as wealthy men to their father’s house.

Another bird announces the imprisonment of the beautiful Aglea in a tower on an island in the Ægean Sea. She is guarded by a serpent. The second brother builds a swift ship, in which all three sail to the island. There the first brother climbs the tower, rescues Aglea, and plunders all the serpent’s treasure. With the wealth and the lady the three return. A dispute now arises as to which brother has the best claim over her. The matter is left undecided by the story-teller.

At the beginning of the seventeenth century, Basile, working very likely on oral tradition, and independent of Straparola (with whose work he does not appear to have been acquainted), gives another version, “Pentamerone,” v, 7:—

Pacione, a poor father, sends his five good-for-nothing sons out into the world for one year to learn a craft. They return at the appointed time. During the year the eldest son has learned thieving; the second has learned boat-building; the third, how to shoot with the cross-bow; the fourth has learned of an herb that will cause the dead to rise; the fifth has learned the language of birds. While the five sons are eating with their father, the youngest son hears sparrows saying that a ghoul has stolen the princess, daughter of the King of Autogolfo. The father suggests that his five sons go to her rescue. So a boat is built, the princess is stolen from the ghoul, the ghoul pursues and is blinded by a shot from the bow, the princess falls in a dead faint and is restored by the life-giving herb. After the five brothers have returned the princess to her father, they dispute as to who did the greatest deed of prowess, so as to be worthy of being her husband. Her father the king decides the dispute by giving his daughter to Pacione, because he is the parent-stem of all these branches.

Benfey thinks that the brother who knows of the life-restoring herb is an original addition of Basile’s or of his immediate source; but this character is to be found in the cycle from earliest times (see “Vetâlapancaviṇçati,” No. 2; and “Siddhi-Kür,” No. 13).

The story is next found as a Märchen pretty well scattered throughout Europe. German, Russian, Bohemian, Italian, Greek, and Serbian forms are known (see Benfey’s article, and Grimm’s notes to No. 129). We may examine briefly six interesting versions not mentioned by Benfey or Grimm:—

Greek (Von Hahn, No. 47).—A king with three sons wishes to marry off the eldest. He seeks a suitable wife for the prince; but when she is found and brought to the court, she is so beautiful, that all three brothers want her. To decide their dispute, the king, on advice, sends them abroad, promising the hand of the princess to the one who shall bring back the most valuable article. The three brothers set out; they separate at Adrianople, agreeing to meet there again at an appointed time. On his travels, the eldest buys a telescope through which he can see anything he wishes to see. The second buys an orange that will restore to life the dying if the sick person but smells of the fruit. The third buys a magic transportation-carpet. They all meet as agreed. By means of the telescope one of the brothers learns that the princess is dying. The magic carpet carries them all home instantaneously, and the orange cures the maiden. A quarrel arises as to which brother deserves her hand. The king, unable to decide, marries her himself.

Bohemian (Waldau [Prag, 1860], “Das Weise Urteil”).—In this there are three rival brothers. One has a magic mirror; another, a magic chariot; and the third, three magic apples. The first finds out that the lady is desperately ill; the second takes himself and his rivals to her; and the third restores her to health. A dispute arising, an old man decides that the third brother should have her, as his apples were consumed as medicine, while the other two still have their chariot and mirror respectively. (Compare the decision in the Georgian folk-tale under type II.)

Serbian (Mme. Mijatovies, 230 ff., “The Three Suitors”).—Three noblemen seek the hand of a princess. As the king cannot make a choice, he says to the three, “Go travel about the world. The one who brings home the most remarkable thing shall be my son-in-law.” As in the Greek story, one gets a transportation-carpet; another, a magic telescope; and the third, a wonder-working ointment that will cure all diseases and even bring the dead to life. The three noblemen meet, learn through the telescope of the princess’s mortal illness, and, hastening to her side with the help of the magic carpet, cure her with the ointment. A dispute arises as to which suitor shall have her. The king decides that each has as good a claim as the others, and persuades all to give up the idea of marrying the princess. They do so, go to a far-off desert, and become hermits, while the king marries his daughter to another noble. The story does not end here, but thus much is all we are interested in.

Italian Tyrolese (Schneller, No. 14, “Die Drei Liebhaber”).—This story is like Von Hahn, No. 47. The magic objects are an apple, a chair, and a mirror. In the magic mirror the three suitors see the bride on the point of death. They are carried to her in the magic chair, and she is saved by means of the apple. The story ends as a riddle: Who married the maiden?

Icelandic (Rittershaus, No. XLIII, “Die drei Freier um eine Braut”).—This story, which closely follows the “1001 Nights” version and is probably derived from it, agrees in the first part with Von Hahn, No. 47. When a folk-tribunal is called to decide which brother most deserves the princess and is unable to agree, the king proposes another test,—a shooting-match. The princess is to be given to the one who can shoot his arrow the farthest. The youngest really wins; but, as his arrow goes out of sight and cannot be found, the princess is given to the second brother. From this point on, the adventures of the hero are derived from another cycle that does not belong with our group.

Icelandic (Rittershaus, No. XLII, “Die Kunstreichen Brüder”).—Although this story is very different from any of ours, I call attention to it here because Dr. Rittershaus says (p. 181) that in it we have, “in allerdings verwischter Form, das Märchen von ‘der Menschen mit den wunderbaren Eigenschaften,’ ” and she refers to Benfey’s “Ausland” article. The collector states, however, that the story is so different from the other Märchen belonging to this family, that no further parallels can be adduced. As a matter of fact, this Icelandic story is a combination of the “Skilful Companions” cycle with the “Child and the Hand” cycle. For this combined Märchen, see Kittredge, “Arthur and Gorlagon,” 222–227.


It might be noted, in passing, that a connection between this type of the “Rival Brothers” and the “Skilful Companions” cycle is established through Gonzenbach’s Sicilian story of “The Seven Brothers who had Magic Articles,” No. 45. (See Köhler’s notes to this tale and also to No. 74; to Widter-Wolf, No. 6 [Jahrb. f. rom. und eng. lit., VII]; and to V. Tagić, No. 46 [Köhler-Bolte, 438–440].)


I have not attempted to give an exhaustive bibliographical account of this cycle of the “Rival Brothers,” but have merely suggested points that seem to me particularly significant in its history and development. So far as our four Filipino examples are concerned, I think that it is perfectly clear that in their present form, at least, they have been derived from Europe. There is so much divergence among them, however, and they are so widely separated from one another geographically, that it would be fruitless to search for a common ancestor of the four.

The Ilocano story is the best in outline, and is fairly close to Grimm, No. 129, though there are only three brothers in the Filipino tale, and there is no skill contest held by the mother before the youths set out to rescue the princess. The all-seeing telescope and the clever thief, however, are found in both. The solution at the end is the same: the king keeps his daughter, and divides half a kingdom among her rescuers.

The Pangasinan tale has obviously been garbled. The use of two magic articles with properties so nearly the same, the taking ship by the three brothers when they had a transportation-mat at their service, and finally the inhuman decision of the king,[4]—all suggest either a confusion of stories, or a contamination of old native analogies, or crude manufacture on the part of some narrator. It may be remarked, however, that the life-restoring book is analogous to the magic book in “Vetâlapancaviṇçati,” No. 2, while the repairing of the shattered ship by means of the magic stones suggests the stitching-together of the planks in Grimm, No. 129. The setting appears to be modern.

In the first Tagalog story (c) the three men are not brothers. They are given the magic objects as a reward for kindness. The sentimental dénouement reads somewhat smug and strained after all three men have been represented as equally kind-hearted. The shooting-contest with arrows to decide the question, however, may be reminiscent of the “1001 Nights” version. For the resuscitating flute in droll stories, see Bolte-Polívka’s notes to Grimm, No. 61 (episode G¹). The book of knowledge suggests the magic book in the Pangasinan version.


[1] Whether or not these powers reside in the men themselves, who have acquired them through practice, or in magic objects which they find or are presented with. Benfey (loc. cit., p. 969) makes two distinct cycles on an entirely different basis from mine, both derived from India: the one telling of the extraordinary endowments of men; the other, of extraordinary properties of objects (i.e., magic objects). It seems to me a mistake, however, to make a cycle of this second group, for magic articles are only machinery in a story. A family of folk-tales cannot turn merely on things; the magic objects are only latently powerful until guided and controlled by the human hero.

[2] For example, “The Grateful Dead,” “John the Bear,” “The Child and the Hand,” “The Ransomed Woman,” etc.

[3] The most recent investigation of this cycle that I know of is that of W. E. Farnham in connection with the sources of Chaucer’s “Parlement of Foules” (in Publications of the Modem Language Association, 32 : 502–513 [1917]). Dr. Farnham has named the cycle “The Contending Lovers,” the stories of which, he says, fall into six clearly marked types. My discussion of the cycle may require some modification in the light of his study; but I have printed it here as I wrote it, some two years before Dr. Farnham’s article came to my notice.

[4] For practically this identical judgment, see the Dsanglun (St. Petersburg, 1843), p. 94 (cited by Benfey, 1 : 396, note 2).