In the evening Miss Gryll said to the doctor, 'We have passed Christmas without a ghost story. This is not as it should be. One evening at least of Christmas ought to be devoted to merveilleuses histoires racontées autour du foyer; which Chateaubriand enumerates among the peculiar enjoyments of those qui n'ont pas quitté leur pays natal. You must have plenty of ghosts in Greek and Latin, doctor.'
The Rev. Dr. Opimian. No doubt. All literature abounds with ghosts. But there are not many classical ghosts that would make a Christmas tale according to the received notion of a ghost story. The ghosts of Patroclus in Homer, of Darius in Æschylus, of Polydorus in Euripides, are fine poetical ghosts: but none of them would make a ghost story. I can only call to mind one such story in Greek: but even that, as it has been turned into ballads by Goethe, in the Bride of Corinth, and by Lewis, in the Gay Gold Ring,{1}
1 Lewis says, in a note on the Gay Gold Ring:—'I once
read in some Grecian author, whose name I have forgotten,
the story which suggested to me the outline of the foregoing
ballad. It was as follows: A young man arriving at the house
of a friend, to whose daughter he was betrothed, was
informed that some weeks had passed since death had deprived
him of his intended bride. Never having seen her, he soon
reconciled himself to her loss, especially as, during his
stay at his friend's house, a young lady was kind enough to
visit him every night in his chamber, whence she retired at
daybreak, always carrying with her some valuable present
from her lover. This intercourse continued till accident
showed the young man the picture of his deceased bride, and
he recognised, with horror, the features of his nocturnal
visitor. The young lady's tomb being opened, he found in it
the various presents which his liberality had bestowed on
his unknown innamorata.'—M. G. Lewis: Tales of Wonder,
v. i. p. 99.
would not be new to any one here. There are some classical tales of wonder, not ghost stories, but suitable Christmas tales. There are two in Petronius, which I once amused myself by translating as closely as possible to the originals, and, if you please, I will relate them as I remember them. For I hold with Chaucer:
Whoso shall telle a tale after a man,
He most reherse, as nigh as ever he can,
Everich word, if it be in his charge,
All speke he never so rudely and so large:
Or elles he moste tellen his tale untrewe,
Or feinen things, or finden wordes newe.{1}
1 Canterbury Tales, w. 733-738.
This proposal being received with an unanimous 'By all means, doctor,' the doctor went on:
'These stories are told at the feast of Trimalchio: the first by Niceros, a freedman, one of the guests:
'While I was yet serving, we lived in a narrow street, where now is the house of Gavilla. There, as it pleased the gods, I fell in love with the wife of Terentius, the tavern-keeper—Melissa Tarentiana—many of you knew her, a most beautiful kiss-thrower.'