Färöe, 'Faðir og dottir,' communicated by Hammershaimb to the Antiquarisk Tidsskrift, 1849-51, p. 88.
Norwegian, 'Far aa dótter,' Bugge, Gamle Norske Folkeviser, p. 115, A (with two fragments, B, C).
A father [king, Icelandic A-H] asks his daughter if she is ready to marry. She has no such thought.[104] [She swore by God, by man, that she had never had the thought, had no private connection, was as clear as a nun; but nobody knew what was in her mind: Färöe.] Who, then, he asks, is the fair knight that rode to your bower? No fair knight, but one of her knaves. Whose was that horse I saw at your door? It was no horse, but a hind from the fell. Who was that fair knight you kissed at the spring? It was no knight, but her maid that she kissed. Does her maid wear a sword at her side? It was no sword, but a bunch of keys. Does her maid wear spurs? It was no spurs, but gold on her shoes. Has her maid short hair? Her plaits were coiled on her head. Does she wear short clothes, like men? Maids hold up their coats when there is a dew. What babe was crying in her chamber? It was no babe, but her dog. What was that cradle standing by her bed? It was no cradle, but her little silk-loom.
In the Färöe ballad the father then rides to the wood, meets a knight, cuts him in two, hangs his foot, hand, and head to his saddle, and returns. Do you know this foot? he asks. It has often found the way to her chamber. Do you know this hand? Many a night it has lain on her arm. Do you know this head? Many a kiss have the lips had. In the other versions these bloody tokens are produced on the spot, with a more startling effect. The daughter wishes a fire in her father's house, him in it, and herself looking on. Instantly a blaze bursts forth, the king is burnt up, and all that belongs to him. The daughter sets the fire herself in the Färöe and the Norwegian ballad. She dies of grief in Icelandic C, takes to the wood in E, F,[105] goes into a cloister in D, G (cf. English C).
A briefer form of this same story is 'Den grymma Brodern,' Afzelius, No 86, III, 107. In this a brother takes the place of the father. After several questions he asks his sister if she knows the man's hand that hangs at his saddle. She bursts out into an exclamation of grief. 'Thore och hans Syster,' Arwidsson, No 55, I, 358,[106] has lost its proper conclusion, for we have not come to the conclusion when the brother says that his sister's false inventions will never give out till the sea wants water, a comment which we also find in the Färöe ballad (where, however, it is misplaced). This is the case, also, with 'Det hurtige Svar,' Danske Viser, No 204, IV, 228[106] and 362, but in the Danish ballad a perversion towards the comic has begun, the end being:
'Brother, would you question more,
I have answers still in store.'
'When women lack a quick reply,
The German Ocean shall be dry.'
In a Spanish and Portuguese romance a woman has received a lover in the absence of her husband. The husband returns before he is expected, and puts questions similar to those in the ballads already spoken of: whose horse, lance, sword, is this? whose spurs, whose arms are these? and is answered after the same fashion. There is considerable variety in the conclusion; the husband kills his wife, kills the paramour, kills both, both he and his rival lose their lives, the wife dies of fright, or is even pardoned. Spanish: 'De Blanca-Niña,' Wolf and Hofmann, Primavera, No 136, II, 52; 'Romance del Conde Lombardo,' the same, No 136 a, II, 53; 'La adúltera castigada,' Milá, Romancerillo, No 254, A-M, pp 241-45; 'Lo retorn soptat,' Briz, IV, 183; Fernan Caballero, La Gaviota, p. 82, ed. Leipzig, 1868.[107]
In an Illyrian ballad, husband, wife, and a young Clerk are the parties. Three watches are set to give notice of the husband's return, one in the field, one in the house-court, one before the chamber. They give due warning, but the woman, like Lady Barnard, in '[Little Musgrave],' will not heed. After some questions and evasions the husband strikes off her head: 'Nevérnost,' Vraz, Narodne Pésni Ilirske, p. 72; 'Bestrafte Untreue,' A. Grün, Volkslieder aus Krain, p. 41.
Nothing could be easier than to give these questions, prevarications, and comments a humorous turn, and this is done in a large number of ballads: see 'Our good man came hame at een.'