One of the old monkish tales from mediæval times, collected under the title of “Gesta Romanorum,” runs as follows:
Frediricus, who reigned in a Roman city, had been a long time without offspring. Finally, by the advice of wise counsellors, he married a beautiful girl in parts far distant and lived with her in an unknown land and had offspring. After this, he wished to return to his realm but could not obtain his wife’s consent; indeed, she always repeated that if he abandoned her she would kill herself. Hearing this, the emperor caused two splendid rings to be made, and had engraved upon two gems images of the following efficacy: one of remembrance and the other of forgetfulness. Having set these in their appropriate rings he gave one—that of forgetfulness—to his wife, and kept the other for himself ... The wife began straightway to forget the love of her husband, and the emperor, noting this, journeyed back to his realm with great joy, and never returned to his wife. He ended his life in peace.[506]
Welsh legend offers us parallels to the ring of Gyges and to that set with the “Stone of Remembrance” told of in the Gesta Romanorum. In the old Welsh epic, the Mabinogion, the following directions are given by a damsel to her lover in regard to a ring of the former type: “Take this ring and put it on thy finger with the stone within thy hand; and close thy hand upon the stone, and as long as thou concealest it, it will conceal thee.” This Stone of Invisibility was regarded as one of the thirteen rarities of the ancient British regalia, formerly treasured up in Caerleon, Monmouthshire, and in another Welsh legendary cycle (the Triads) it is said to have “liberated Owen, the son of Urien, from between the portcullis and the wall.” Whoever concealed the stone would be concealed by it. Here indeed the similarity with the story told of the ring of Gyges is so close that it is apparent we only have to do with an adaptation of the classic tale. As to the stone of Remembrance, however, the Welsh tradition seems to be essentially an independent one. The Mabinogion makes Iddawe say to Rhonabwy: “Dost thou see this ring with a stone set in it upon the Emperor’s hand? It is one of the properties of that stone to enable thee to remember that thou seest here to-night, and hadst thou not seen the stone, thou wouldst never have been able to remember aught thereof.” This refers to a dream or vision accorded to Rhonabwy while he lay upon an enchanted calf-skin.[507]
Dactylomancy, as it was called, was resorted to in the Middle Ages by those who sought to probe the mysteries of the future. This art was practiced by the use of a ring (sometimes bearing the figure of one of the constellations), which was suspended by a thread in the middle of a glass or metal vessel. The number and quality of the strokes it made against the sides of the vessel as it swung free on the thread, were interpreted by the magician according to a secret formula, and were explained by him to signify that some expected or dreaded event would or would not take place.[508]
Among the Sagan Kerens of southeastern Asia there is a curious superstitious use of a ring in connection with funeral feasts. On such occasions a metal ring is suspended from a support just over a brass basin. One by one the relatives of the deceased person approach and strike a succession of quick taps on the edge of the basin with a piece of bamboo. When it comes to the turn of the one who was most beloved by the departed, the spirit is believed to answer the call by making the string twist about and lengthen, so that, finally, it either parts and permits the ring to fall into the basin, or else swings and lengthens sufficiently to cause the ring to strike the basin edge.[509]
A magic ring is introduced by Sir Thomas Malory in his “Morte d’Arthur,” written in 1469 or 1470, the tale being of course borrowed from some one of the numerous sources he used in this compilation of the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. The ring was given by Dame Liness to Sir Gareth, who wished to hide his personality while competing in a tournament. The dame assured the Knight that this ring had such virtue that it would turn green to red, blue to white, and vice versa, and so through all the range of colors. The lady required, however, a solemn promise that her ring would be returned to her at the close of the tournament, for in addition to its other virtues, it possessed marvellous cosmetic powers, increasing her beauty to an extraordinary degree.
In the tourney, the baffling changes of color in Sir Gareth’s arms and equipment confused his assailants and rendered him more easily victorious than he would otherwise have been, good knight that he was. Having ridden for a moment out of the press of knights to adjust his helmet, which had become loosened, a dwarf approached him, offering a cup of wine to quench the knight’s thirst, at the same time asking to hold the ring lest Sir Gareth should let it slip from his finger while drinking. The knight gave it to him, but in his eagerness to join again in the affray, forgot to take it back. But now his armor retained its normal yellow tint, and, fearing recognition, for it was important for him to conceal his personality at this time, he noted that his ring was not on his hand. He quickly sought the dwarf and obliged him to surrender the magic ring. No sooner was it on his finger than his armor changed color, and he was able to avoid a threatened pursuit, as all were in search of the Yellow Knight.
A ring having magic power to protect the wearer from danger appears in the mediæval romance of Sir Eglamore. The tale appears to have been known to Shakespeare, to judge from the line: “What think’st thou of the fair Sir Eglamore,” which occurs in Two Gentlemen of Verona. This ring was given to the gallant knight by his lady love:[510]
Then said Arnada, that sweete thing
“Have here of me a gold ring