VOL. II.

55. The Carnal and the Crane.

P. 7 f., 510 a. Legend of the Sower. Catalan (with the partridge), Miscelánea Folk-Lórica, 1887, p. 115, No 6.

Moravian, Sušil, p. 19, No 16; Little-Russian, Golovatsky, II, 9, No 13. (W. W.)

56. Dives and Lazarus.

P. 10 b. ‘Il ricco Epulone,’ Nigra, No 159, p. 543, with Jesus and the Madonna for Lazarus.

Little-Russian, Golovatsky, II, 737, No 5; III, 263, No 1, and 267, No 2. Lazarus and the rich man are represented as brothers. (W. W.)

57. Brown Robyn’s Confession.

P. 13 b, 5th line. A is not a manuscript of the ‘fifteenth’ century, but of the date 1590 or 1591. (Note of Mr Axel Olrik.)

59. Sir Aldingar.

Pp. 37–43. The first adventure of the fragmentary romance of Joufrois affords this story. Count Richard of Poitiers has a son Joufrois. The boy begs his father to send him to the English court, that King Henry may knight him. The English king receives him well, but he remains a vaslet for some time. The seneschal of the court endeavors to win the queen’s amisté, but fails. He tells the king that he has seen the queen in bed with a kitchen-boy, and Henry swears that she shall hang or burn. The vaslet Joufrois offers to prove the seneschal a liar, and begs to be knighted for that purpose. Everybody thinks him mad to undertake battle with the seneschal, who is an unmatched man-at-arms: li biaus vaslet estoit enfens. The fight takes place at Winchester. Joufrois’ sword is broken, but he picks up a piece of a huge lance and disables his adversary with a blow on the arm. Joufrois then threatens to cut off the felon’s head if he does not retract, and as the seneschal prefers death to eating his words, this is done. Joufrois, Altfranzösisches Rittergedicht, ed. Hofmann und Muncker, vv. 91–631, pp. 3–18. (G. L. K.)

60. King Estmere.

Pp. 51, 510 b. Mr Kittredge has noted for me some twenty other cases in metrical romances of knights riding into hall.

Aiol’s steed is stabled in the hall, Aiol et Mirabel, ed. Förster, vv. 1758–61, p. 51. So Gawain’s horse in the ‘Chevalier à l’Espée,’ vv. 224–236, Méon, Nouveau Recueil, I, 134. Cf. ‘Perceval le Gallois,’ ed. Potvin, II, 255 ff., vv. 16803–42. In ‘Richars li Biaus,’ the hero evidently has his horse with him while at dinner in the hall of the robber-castle: ed. Förster, v. 3396, p. 93; cf. the editor’s note, p. 182. In ‘Perceval le Gallois,’ a knight takes his horse with him into a bedchamber and ties him to a bed-post: ed. Potvin, III, 34, v. 21169 f.. Cf. Elie de Saint Gille, ed. Förster, pp. 377, 379, 380, vv. 2050–55, 2105, 2129–42. (G. L. K.)

61. Sir Cawline.

P. 56 b. Amadas, while watching at the tomb of Ydoine, has a terrific combat with a highly mysterious stranger knight, whom he vanquishes. The stranger then informs Amadas that Ydoine is not really dead, etc., etc. He gives sufficient evidence of his elritch character, and the author clinches the matter by speaking of him as “the maufé” (v. 6709). Amadas et Ydoine, ed. Hippeau, vv. 5465 ff., p. 189 ff.. (G. L. K.)

60. Stanzas 42 ff.. It might have been remarked that this feat of tearing out a lion’s heart belongs to King Richard (see Weber’s Romances, II, 44), hence, according to the romance, named Cœur de Lion, and that it has also been assigned to an humbler hero, in a well-known broadside ballad, ‘The Honour of a London Prentice,’ Old Ballads, 1723, I, 199 (where there are two lions for one).

63. Child Waters.

P. 83. Italian. ‘Ambrogio e Lietta,’ Nigra, No 35, p. 201. The Piedmontese ballad, though incomplete, has the rough behavior of the man to the woman, the crossing of the water, the castle and the mother, the stable, and twins brought forth in a manger.

84 b. Danish. ‘Hr. Peders stalddreng,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 121, No 441; ‘Liden Kirsten som stalddreng,’ V, 98, No 645.

‘Hr. Grönnevold,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, VII, 49, No 177, is an imperfect copy of the second sort of Scandinavian ballads.

64. Fair Janet.

P. 103, note. ‘La Fidanzata Infedele’ is now No 34 of Nigra’s collection. See above the addition to No 5, I, 65 b.

65. Lady Maisry.

P. 113 a, last paragraph. Burning, etc. See Amis e Amiloun (the French text), v. 364, p. 134, ed. Kölbing; Elie de St Gille, ed. Förster, vv. 2163–69, p. 381. Amadis de Gaule, Nicolas de Herberay, Anvers, 1573, I, 8 f., book 1, chap. 2, maid or wife; but Venice, 1552, I, 6 b, and Gayangos, Libros de Caballerias, p. 4, wife. (G. L. K.)

113 b. Only certain copies, and those perverted, of Grundtvig Nos 108, 109 have the punishment of burning for simple incontinence. This is rather the penalty for incest: cf. Syv, No 16,==Kristensen, I, No 70, II, No 49,==Grundtvig, No 292, and many other ballads. (Note of Mr Axel Olrik.)

Note §. ‘Galanzuca,’ ‘Galancina,’ Pidal, Asturian Romance, Nos 6, 7, pp. 92, 94, belong here. They have much of the story of ‘Lady Maisry,’ with a happy ending.

66. Lord Ingram and Chiel Wyet.

P. 127 a, 9th line of the second paragraph. A copy of ‘Fru Margaretha’ in Harald Oluffsons Visbok. Nyare Bidrag, o. s. v., p. 36, No 16, stanzas 21, 22.

127 b, 511 b. In a Breton ballad, Mélusine, III, 350 f., a priest jumps a table, at the cry of his sister, who is in a desperate extremity.

But the greatest achievements in this way are in Slavic ballads. A bride, on learning of her bridegroom’s death, jumps over four tables and lights on the fifth, rushes to her chamber and stabs herself: Moravian, Sušil, p. 83. According to a variant, p. 84, note, she jumps over nine. A repentant husband who had projected the death of his wife, on hearing that she is still living, leaps nine tables without touching the glasses on them: Magyar-Croat, Kurelac, p. 184, No 479. (W. W.)

Mr Kittredge has given me many cases from romances.

127 b, note. Sword reduced to a straw: add Nigra, No 113, etc. ‘Gerineldo:’ add Pidal, Asturian Romances, Nos 3, 4, 5.

67. Glasgerion.

P. 137 b. ‘Poter del Canto’ is now No 47, p. 284, of Nigra’s collection.

68. Young Hunting.

P. 142. A copy in A. Nimmo’s Songs and Ballads of Clydesdale, ‘Young Hyndford,’ p. 155, is made up (with changes) from Scott, Kinloch, Buchan, Motherwell and Herd, E, J, B, K, F, G.

143, 512 a. Discovery of drowned bodies. See Revue des Traditions populaires, I, 56; Mélusine, III, 141.

69. Clerk Saunders.

P. 157. There are four copies of the Färöe ‘Faðir og dóttir,’ and Hammershaimb has printed a second (with but slight variations) in his Færøsk Anthologi: p. 253, No 31.

158. Spanish. Add: ‘La Esposa infiel,’ Pidal, Asturian Romances, No 33, p. 154.

71. The Bent Sae Brown.

P. 170. Nine versions of ‘Jomfruens Brødre’ in Kristensen’s Skattegraveren, II, 145 ff., Nos 717–23, V, 81 ff., Nos 633, 634.

72. The Clerk’s Twa Sons o Owsenford.

Pp. 174, 512. Add to the French ballads one from Carcassonne, first published in a newspaper of that place, Le Bon Sens, August 10, 1878, and reprinted in Mélusine, II, 212. The occurrence which gave rise to the ballad is narrated by Nigra, C. p. del Piemonte, p. 54 f., after Mary Lafon, and the Italian version is No 4 of that collection, ‘Gli Scolari di Tolosa.’ The ballad is originally French, the scene Toulouse.

73. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.

P. 179 f. D. The Roxburghe copy of ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor,’ III, 554, is printed by Mr J. W. Ebsworth in the Ballad Society’s edition of the Roxburghe Ballads, VI, 647. (Mr Ebsworth notes that the broadside occurs in the Bagford Ballads, II, 127; Douce, I, 120 v., III, 58 v., IV, 36; Ouvry, II, 38; Jersey, III, 88.) ‘The Unfortunate Forrester,’ Roxburghe, II, 553, is printed at p. 645 of the same volume. A copy from singing is given (with omissions) in Miss Burne’s Shropshire Folk-Lore, 1883–86, p. 545; another, originally from recitation, in Mr G. R. Tomson’s Ballads of the North Countrie, 1888, p. 82. Both came, traditionally, from print. Still another, from the singing of a Virginian nurse-maid (helped out by her mother), was communicated by Mr W. H. Babcock to the Folk-Lore Journal, VII, 33, 1889, and may be repeated here, both because it is American and also because of its amusing perversions.

THE BROWN GIRL

‘O mother, O mother, come read this to me,

And regulate all as one,

Whether I shall wed fair Ellinter or no,

Or fetch you the brown girl home.’

‘Fair Ellinter she has houses and wealth,

The brown girl she has none;

But before I am charged with that blessing,

Go fetch me the brown girl home.’

He dressed himself in skylight green,

His groomsmen all in red;

And every town as he rode through

They took him to be some king.

He rode and he rode until he came to fair Ellinter’s door;

He knocked so loud at the ring;

There was none so ready as fair Ellinter herself

To rise and let him in.

‘O what is the news, Lord Thomas?’ she said,

‘O what is the news to thee?’

‘I’ve come to invite you to my wedding,

And that is bad news to thee.’

‘God forbid, Lord Thomas,’ she said,

‘That any such thing should be!

For I should have been the bride myself,

And you should the bridegroom be.

‘O mother, O mother, come read this to me,

And regulate all as one,

Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas’ wed,

Or stay with you at home.’

‘Here you have one thousand friends,

Where there you would but one;

So I will invite you, with my blessing,

To stay with me at home.’

But she dressed herself in skylight red,

Her waiting-maids all in green,

And every town as she rode through

They took her to be some queen.

She rode and she rode till she came to Lord Thomas’s door;

She knocked so loud at the ring;

There was none so ready as Lord Thomas himself

To rise and let her in.

He took her by her lily-white hand,

He led her across the hall;

Sing, ‘Here are five and twenty gay maids,

She is the flower of you all.’

He took her by her lily-white hand,

He led her across the hall,

He sat her down in a big arm-chair,

And kissed her before them all.

The wedding was gotten, the table was set,

. . . . . . .

The first to sit down was Lord Thomas himself,

His bride, fair Ellinter, by his side.

‘Is this your bride, Lord Thomas?’ she said;

‘If this is your bride, Lord Thomas, she looks most wonderfully dark,

When you could have gotten a fairer

As ever the sun shone on.’

‘O don’t you despise her,’ Lord Thomas said he,

‘O don’t you despise her to me;

Yes, I like the end of your little finger

Better than her whole body.’

The brown girl, having a little penknife,

And being both keen and sharp,

Right between the long and short ribs,

She pierced poor Ellinter’s heart.

‘O what is the matter, fair Ellinter,’ said he,

‘That you look so very dark,

When your cheeks used to have been so red and rosy

As ever the sun shined on?’

‘Are you blind, or don’t you see,

My heart-blood come trickling down to my knee?’

3^1,2. green and red should be interchanged: cf. 9.

13, 14. Rearranged.

15¹. said she.

181. Add to the French ballads, ‘La Délaissée,’ V. Smith, Romania, VII, 82; Legrand, Romania, X, 386, No 32; ‘La triste Noce,’ Thiriat, Mélusine, I, 189; and to the Italian ballad, Nigra, No 20, p. 139, ‘Danze e Funerali.’

75. Lord Lovel.

P. 205 b. Other copies of ‘Den elskedes Død’ (‘Kjærestens Død’), Kristensen, Skattegraveren, VII, 1, 2, Nos 1, 2; Bergström ock Nordlander, in Nyare Bidrag, o. s. v., pp. 92, 100; and ‘Olof Adelen,’ p. 98, may be added, in which a linden grows from the common grave, with two boughs which embrace.

Note. With the Scandinavian-German ballads belongs ‘Greven og lille Lise,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, V, 20, No 14.

206, 512 b. To the southern ballads which have a partial resemblance may be added: French, Beaurepaire, p. 52, Combes, Chants p. du Pays castrais, p. 139, Arbaud, I, 117, Victor Smith, Romania, VII, 83, No. 32; Italian, Nigra, ‘La Sposa morta,’ No 17, p. 120 ff. (especially D).

215. I ought not to have omitted the σήματα by which Ulysses convinces Penelope, Odyssey, xxiii, 181–208; to which might be added those which convince Laertes, xxiv, 328 ff. See also the romance of Don Bueso, Duran, I, lxv:

¿Qué señas me dabas

Por ser conocida? et cét.

76. The Lass of Roch Royal.

II, 213. There is a version of this ballad in the Roxburghe collection, III, 488, a folio slip without imprint, dated in the Museum Catalogue 1740. I was not aware of the existence of this copy till it was printed by Mr Ebsworth in the Roxburghe Ballads, VI, 609. He puts the date of issue circa 1765. It is here given from the original. Compare H.

THE LASS OF OCRAM

I built my love a gallant ship,

And a ship of Northern fame,

And such a ship as I did build,

Sure there never was seen.

For her sides were of the beaten gold,

And the doors were of block-tin,

And sure such a ship as I built

There sure never was seen.

And as she was a sailing,

By herself all alone,

She spied a proud merchant-man,

Come plowing oer the main.

‘Thou fairest of all creatures

Under the heavens,’ said she,

‘I am the Lass of Ocram,

Seeking for Lord Gregory.’

‘If you are the Lass of Ocram,

As I take you for to be,

You must go to yonder island,

There Lord Gregory you’ll see.’

‘It rains upon my yellow locks,

And the dew falls on my skin;

Open the gates, Lord Gregory,

And let your true-love in!’

‘If you’re the Lass of Ocram,

As I take you not to be,

You must mention the three tokens

Which passd between you and me.’

‘Don’t you remember, Lord Gregory,

One night on my father’s hill,

With you I swaft my linen fine?

It was sore against my will.

‘For mine was of the Holland fine,

And yours but Scotch cloth;

For mine cost a guinea a yard,

And yours but five groats.’

‘If you are the Lass of Ocram,

As I think you not to be,

You must mention the second token

That passd between you and me.’

‘Don’t you remember, Lord Gregory,

One night in my father’s park,

We swaffed our two rings?

It was all in the dark.

‘For mine was of the beaten gold,

And yours was of block-tin;

And mine was true love without,

And yours all false within.’

‘If you are the Lass of Ocram,

As I take you not to be,

You must mention the third token

Which past between you and me.’

‘Don’t you remember, Lord Gregory,

One night in my father’s hall,

Where you stole my maidenhead?

Which was the worst of all.’

‘Begone, you base creature!

Begone from out of the hall!

Or else in the deep seas

You and your babe shall fall.’

‘Then who will shoe my bonny feet?

And who will close my hands?

And who will lace my waste so small,

Into a landen span?

‘And who will comb my yellow locks,

With a brown berry comb?

And who’s to be father of my child

If Lord Gregory is none?’

‘Let your brother shoe your bonny feet,

Let your sister close your hands,

Let your mother lace your waist so small,

Into a landen span.

‘Let your father comb your yellow locks,

With a brown berry comb,

And let God be father of your child,

For Lord Gregory is none.’

‘I dreamt a dream, dear mother,

I could wish to have it read;

I saw the Lass of Ocram

A floating on the flood.’

‘Lie still, my dearest son,

And take thy sweet rest;

It is not half an hour ago,

The maid passd this place.’

‘Ah! cursed be you, mother!

And cursed may you be,

That you did not awake me,

When the maid passd this way!

‘I will go down into some silent grove,

My sad moan for to make;

It is for the Lass of Ocram

My poor heart now will break.’

(4¹. Perhaps the reading was: The fairest, etc.)

Mr W. H. Babcock has printed a little ballad as sung in Virginia, in which are two stanzas that belong to ‘The Lass of Roch Royal:’ The Folk-Lore Journal, VII, 31.

‘Come along, come along, my pretty little miss,

Come along, come along,’ said he,

‘And seat yourself by me.’

‘Neither will I come, and neither sit down,

For I have not a moment’s time;

For I heard that you had a new sweetheart,

And your heart is no more mine.’

‘It never was, and it never shall be,

And it never was any such a thing;

For yonder she stands, in her own father’s garden,

The garden of the vine,

Mourning for her own true love,

Just like I’ve mourned for mine.’

I laid my head in a little closet-door,

To hear what my true love had to say,

So that I might know a little of his mind

Before he went away.

I laid my head on the side of his bed,

My arms across his breast;

I made him believe, for the fall of the year,

The sun rose in the west.

‘I’m going away, I’m coming back again,

If it is ten thousand miles;

It’s who will shoe your pretty little feet?

And who will glove your hand?

And who will kiss your red, rosy lips,

While I’m in a foreign land?’

‘My father will shoe my pretty little feet,

My mother glove my hand,

My babe will kiss my red, rosy lips,

While you’re in a foreign land.’

Mr James Mooney, of the Bureau of Ethnology, obtained two very similar stanzas in the ‘Carolina Mountains.’

‘O who will shoe your feet, my dear?

Or who will glove your hands?

Or who will kiss your red rosy cheeks,

When I’m in the foreign lands?’

‘My father will shoe my feet, my dear,

My mother will glove my hands,

And you may kiss my red rosy cheeks

When you come from the foreign lands.’

78. The Unquiet Grave.

P. 234.