early. The new wife did not sleep at all. Towards midnight she was
amazed to see her chamber suddenly illuminated. Then the window opened
and she saw some men with horrible faces come in, who put up a gallows
in the middle of the room. When their task was finished, they went
straight to the bed and took the newly married man,--who was still
asleep,--passed a rope around his neck, and fastened him to the gibbet.
One of the executioners rested his feet on his shoulders;--then, after
a little while they unfastened him from the gallows, put him back in
his bed, and then went away through the window.
The young woman saw all this, pale and horror-stricken,--she could
neither move nor speak a single word. Her husband was lying by her
side, motionless, cold as ice, and with the marks of the rope around
his neck.
Suddenly he awoke with a start, and cried out,--
“Oh! how my body is bruised! and how sore my throat is!”
Then his wife threw her arms around him and covered him with kisses,
exclaiming,--
“Oh! thank heaven, you are not really dead!”
“No, indeed, I am not dead, but I am so tired!”
“I thought you were dead. They hung you there, right before my eyes,
in the middle of the room!”
“Really? ah! God be praised! for my destiny is then accomplished and I
am released from my terrible fate. A monk told my mother that I should
be hung at the age of eighteen,--and I am eighteen years old this very
night!”
They lived together a long time, happy and fearing God, and had many
children.
Told by Marguerite Philippe, of Pluzunet (Côtes-du-Nord).
F. M. LUZEL.
THE LITTLE ANT THAT WAS GOING TO JERUSALEM, AND THE SNOW
There was once a little ant that was going to Jerusalem.
She met the snow and the snow cracked the paw of the little ant that
was going to Jerusalem.
“Oh! snow, how strong you are, to crack the paw of the little ant that
is going to Jerusalem!”
And the snow replied, “The sun that melts me is a great deal stronger.”
“Oh! sun, how strong you are, to melt the snow, that cracks the paw of
the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the sun replied, “The cloud that hides me is a great deal stronger.”
“Oh! cloud, how strong you are, to hide the sun, that melts the snow,
that cracks the paw of the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the cloud replied, “The wind that drives me away is a great deal
stronger.”
“Oh! wind, how strong you are, to drive away the cloud, that hides the
sun, that melts the snow, that cracks the paw of the little ant that is
going to Jerusalem!”
And the wind replied, “The mountain that stops me is a great deal
stronger.”
“Oh! mountain, how strong you are, to stop the wind, that drives away
the cloud, that hides the sun, that melts the snow, that cracks the paw
of the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the mountain replied, “The mouse that bores through me is a great
deal stronger.”
“Oh! mouse, how strong you are, to bore through the mountain, that
stops the wind, that drives away the cloud, that hides the sun, that
melts the snow, that cracks the paw of the little ant that is going to
Jerusalem!”
And the mouse replied, “The cat that eats me is a great deal stronger.”
“Oh! cat, how strong you are, to eat the mouse, that bores through the
mountain, that stops the wind, that drives away the cloud, that hides
the sun, that melts the snow, that cracks the paw of the little ant
that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the cat replied, “The dog that chases me is a great deal stronger.”
“Oh! dog, how strong you are, to chase the cat, that eats the mouse,
that bores through the mountain, that stops the wind, that drives away
the cloud, that hides the sun, that melts the snow, that cracks the paw
of the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the dog replied, “The stick that beats me is a great deal
stronger.”
“Oh! stick, how strong you are, to beat the dog, that chases the cat,
that eats the mouse, that bores through the mountain, that stops the
wind, that drives away the cloud, that hides the sun, that melts the
snow, that cracks the paw of the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the stick replied, “The fire that burns me is a great deal
stronger.”
“Oh! fire, how strong you are, to burn the stick, that beats the dog,
that chases the cat, that eats the mouse, that bores through the
mountain, that stops the wind, that drives away the cloud, that hides
the sun, that melts the snow, that cracks the paw of the little ant
that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the fire replied, “The water that puts me out is a great deal
stronger.”
“Oh! water, how strong you are, to put out the fire, that burns the
stick, that beats the dog, that chases the cat, that eats the mouse,
that bores through the mountain, that stops the wind, that drives away
the cloud, that hides the sun that melts the snow, that cracks the paw
of the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the water replied, “The cow that drinks me is a great deal
stronger.”
“Oh! cow, how strong you are, to drink the water, that puts out the
fire, that burns the stick, that beats the dog, that chases the cat,
that eats the mouse, that bores through the mountain, that stops the
wind, that drives away the cloud, that hides the sun, that melts the
snow, that cracks the paw of the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
And the cow replied, “The man who kills me is a great deal stronger.”
“Oh! man, how strong you are, to kill the cow, that drinks the water,
that puts out the fire, that burns the stick, that beats the dog, that
chases the cat, that eats the mouse, that bores through the mountain,
that stops the wind, that drives away the cloud, that hides the sun,
that melts the snow, that cracks the paw of the little ant that is
going to Jerusalem!”
And the man replied, “God is much stronger, who can kill the man, that
killed the cow, that drinks the water, that puts out the fire, that
burns the stick, that beats the dog, that chases the cat, that eats
the mouse, that bores through the mountain, that stops the wind, that
drives away the cloud, that hides the sun, that melts the snow, that
cracks the paw of the little ant that is going to Jerusalem!”
Told in 1876, by M. G. de la Landelle, the maritime novelist, who had
learned it in his childhood, at Montpellier.
F. M. LUZEL.
THE MOST POWERFUL HUSBAND IN THE WORLD
AN ARABIAN STORY
It is said that a monk, whose prayers were always answered, was one
day seated on the seashore, when he saw a kite fly holding in one of
its claws a little mouse, which escaped and fell on the monk. Touched
with compassion for the mouse, he took it, wrapped it up in a leaf, and
carried it home with him.
Fearing that his people would not be very eager to care for it, he
prayed his Lord to change it into a young girl; and immediately it
became a young girl gifted with great beauty. The monk led her to his
wife, and said to the latter,--
“Here is a girl who belongs to me, and I desire that you shall treat
her as my own child.”
When she had come to the age of womanhood, the monk said to her,--
“My dear daughter, you are quite grown up, and you absolutely must have
a husband; choose then, one to suit yourself, so that I may unite you
to him.”
“Since you leave me free to choose,” she replied, “I wish for my
husband, he who is the most powerful in the world.”
“Perhaps you would like the sun?” said he; and he went to find the sun,
and said to it,--
“O! thou who art so essentially great, I have a daughter who desires to
have for a husband he who is the most powerful in the world; would you
be willing to marry her?”
“I will show you some one who is more powerful than I,” said the
sun; “it is the cloud which obscures me, and makes my rays pale and
tarnishes the splendor of my fires.”
The monk went to the cloud and repeated to him the sun’s words.
“And I,” said the cloud, “I will show you some one more powerful than
I; go find the wind which makes me come and go, which drives me from
east to west.”
The monk went to find the wind, and said to him the same things which
he had said to the cloud; but the wind said to him also,--
“I will show you some one more powerful than I; it is the mountain that
I cannot move.”
Then the monk went to speak to the mountain, which made him this
reply,--
“I will show you some one more powerful than I; it is the rat, against
which I cannot defend myself, when he bores into me and makes his home
in me.”
At last the monk went and said to the rat,--
“Do you wish to marry my young daughter?”
“And how could I do so?” cried the rat. “My hole is narrow, and a rat
only marries a mouse.”
The monk then prayed his Lord to change the young girl into a mouse, as
she was before, and this to the entire contentment of the young girl.
Immediately she resumed her original shape, and she ran away with the
rat.
THE NINE BROTHERS, WHO WERE CHANGED TO SHEEP, AND THEIR SISTER
A BRETON STORY
There were once nine brothers and their sister, who were left orphans.
They were rich also, and lived in an old castle in the midst of a
forest. The sister, whose name was Lévénez, who was the oldest of the
ten children, undertook the direction of the house, when the old lord
died, and her brothers consulted and obeyed her in everything, as if
she had been their mother. They often went hunting in the woods, which
were full of all sorts of game. One day, following a roe, they came to
a hut built of branches of trees, wattled together with clods of dirt.
It was the first time they had seen it. Curious to know who could live
in it, they entered under pretence of asking for some water to quench
their thirst. They saw only an old woman with teeth as long as one’s
arm, and whose tongue went nine times round her body. Frightened at
this sight, they were about to run away, when the old woman said to
them,--
“What do you want, my children? Come in, and do not be so frightened; I
love children very much, especially when they are good and gentle like
you.”
“We should like a little water, if you please, grandmother,” said the
oldest, whose name was Goulven.
“Certainly, my children; I will give you some fresh, clear water, which
I drew this morning, from my fountain. But come in, and do not be
afraid, my poor dears.”
And the old woman gave them some water in a wooden porringer, and while
they drank it, she caressed them, stroking the soft curls of their
blond hair, and when they were ready to go, she said to them, “Now, my
children, you must pay me for the little service I have rendered you.”
“We have no money with us, grandmother,” replied the children, “but we
will ask our sister for some, and bring it to you to-morrow.”
“Oh! it is not money I want, my friends; but one of you,--the oldest,
perhaps, for the others are still very young,--must take me for his
wife.”
And turning to Goulven,--
“Will you, Goulven, take me to be your wife?”
The poor boy could not reply at once, the request seemed so strange to
him.
“Come, answer, will you have me for your little wife?” asked the
horrible old woman again, embracing him.
“I do not know,” said Goulven, confounded; “I will ask my sister.”
“Very well; to-morrow morning I will come myself to the castle, for
your answer.”
The poor children returned to the house, sad and trembling, and
hastened to tell their sister all that had happened.
“Shall I be obliged to marry that horrible old woman, sister?” asked
Goulven, weeping.
“No, my brother, you shall not marry her,” replied Lévénez; “I know
that we shall all have to suffer for it, but we will endure whatever
comes to us, and we will never abandon you.”
The next day, the sorceress came to the castle as she had promised. She
found Lévénez and her brothers in the garden.
“You know, doubtless, why I have come,” said she to Lévénez.
“Yes; my brother has told me everything,” said the young girl.
“And you are very willing that I should become your sister-in-law?”
“No; that cannot be.”
“Why not? Perhaps you do not know who I am, and what I can do.”
“I know that you can do a great deal of harm to my brothers and me; but
you cannot force me to consent to what you ask.”
“Think well of it, and repent quickly of this foolish resolution, while
there is yet time, or misery to you!” cried the sorceress, furious, and
her eyes shone like two burning coals.
Lévénez’s nine brothers trembled all over; but she, calm and resolute,
replied to these threats,--
“I have thought of it all, and I shall change nothing of all I have
said.”
Then the horrible old woman turned a wand, which she carried in her
hand, towards the castle, pronounced a magic sentence, and immediately
the castle fell to the ground with a great noise. Not one stone was
left upon another. Then turning the wand towards the nine brothers, who
were hiding behind their sister in great terror, she pronounced another
magic sentence and the nine brothers were immediately changed into nine
white sheep. Then she said to Lévénez, who still retained her natural
form,--
“Now, you can go and keep your sheep in this plain. And take care never
to tell any one that they are your brothers, or the same thing will
happen to you.” Then she went away, sneering.
The beautiful gardens of the castle, and the grand wood which
surrounded it, had been changed also, instantly, into a great arid and
desolate plain.
Poor Lévénez, left alone with her nine white sheep, pastured them on
the open plain, and never lost them from her sight a moment. She
sought for tufts of fresh grass, which they ate from her hand, and she
played with them, caressed them, embraced them, and talked to them as
if they understood her. And indeed they appeared to understand her.
One of them was larger than the others; it was Goulven, the oldest of
the brothers. Lévénez had built a shelter, a sort of hut, with stones,
clods of earth, moss and dry grasses, and at night, or when it rained,
she took refuge there with her sheep. But when the weather was fine,
she ran and played about in the sun with them, or sang songs, or
recited her prayers, to which they listened attentively, all ranged in
a circle around her. She had a very beautiful voice, clear and correct.
One day a young lord who was hunting in those parts, was astonished
to hear such a beautiful voice in a place so deserted. He stopped
to listen; then going in the direction from which it came, he soon
found himself in the presence of a lovely young girl, surrounded by
nine white sheep, who appeared to love her very much. He spoke to her
and was so struck with her sweetness, her wit, and her beauty, that
he wished to take her and her sheep away with him to his castle. She
refused to go. But the young lord could think of nothing but the pretty
shepherdess, and every day, under pretence of hunting, he went to see
her and talk with her in the great plain. At last he carried her away
with him to his castle, and they were married, and there were long
holidays and great feasting.
The nine sheep had been installed in the garden of the castle, and
Lévénez passed almost all her days there, playing with them, caressing
them, and talking to them as if they understood her; and they did
indeed seem to understand all that she said to them. Her husband was
astonished to see them so intelligent, and he asked himself if it were
possible that they could be real sheep.
Lévénez had an attendant who was the wife of the castle gardener, and
who was also the daughter of the old woman who had changed her brothers
into sheep; but of this she knew nothing. One day, when Lévénez was
leaning over the edge of a well which was in the garden, to see how
deep it was, her attendant took her by the feet and threw her down the
well. Then she ran to her mistress’ chamber, got into her bed, and drew
the curtains close around the bed and at the windows, and pretended
to be sick. The lord was absent at the moment. But on his return, not
finding his wife in the garden among her sheep as usual, he went to her
chamber.
“What is the matter, my sweetheart?” said he.
“I am very sick,” replied the traitress; and when he was about to open
the curtains, “Don’t open the curtains, I beg you; I cannot stand the
light.”
“Why are you alone? Where is your attendant?”
“I do not know; I have not seen her the whole day long.”
The lord looked for her in the castle, and then in the garden, and not
finding her, he returned to his wife, and said to her,--
“I do not know what has become of your attendant. I cannot find her
anywhere. Do you want anything? Perhaps you are hungry?”
“Oh, yes! I am very hungry.”
“What would you like to eat?”
“I must have a bit of that big white sheep in the garden.”
“What a strange notion! You who love your sheep so much, and this one
most of all!”
“That is the only thing that will soothe the frightful pain I suffer.
But do not make any mistake; I want a piece of the big white sheep, and
not of any other.”
The husband went to the garden and ordered the gardener to take the big
white sheep and kill it at once and put it on the kitchen spit.
So the gardener, who was conniving with the attendant, ran after the
white sheep. But it ran so fast round and round the well, bleating so
pitifully all the time, that he could not catch it. The lord, seeing
this, wanted to help him, and went up to the well. He was astonished to
hear moans and groans which seemed to come up from it. He leaned over
the opening and called out,--
“Who is there? is there any one down the well?”
And a gentle voice that he knew so well, answered him,--
“Yes, it is I, your wife, Lévénez.”
The lord, without waiting to hear more, quickly lowered the bucket into
the well and drew up his wife. She was all trembling and terrified.
Soon after this occurrence a child was born to them, a son, as
beautiful as the day.
Lévénez said it must be baptized at once.
“You may choose the godmother, if you wish, but I want my big white
sheep for the godfather,” said she to her husband.
“What! have a sheep for your son’s godfather?”
“I wish it, I tell you; do as I say and do not be uneasy about it.”
Not wishing to cross his young wife, and fearing lest he should make
her sick, the father consented, though grieved at his heart, that the
big white sheep should be his son’s godfather.
They went to church. The big white sheep, very happy, walked in front
with the father and the godmother, a young and beautiful princess. The
other eight sheep, his brothers, followed him. The whole procession
entered the church, to the great astonishment of the village people.
The father presented the child to the priest. The latter looked at the
godmother, but seeing no godfather, he asked,--
“Where is the godfather?”
“Here he is,” replied the father, pointing to the big white sheep.
“What! a sheep?”
“Yes, it seems so; but do not stop for a matter of form, but go on
without fear with the service.”
The priest made no more objections, such transformations being,
doubtless, common in his day, and proceeded to baptize the child.
The sheep then raised himself on his two hind legs, took his godson in
his two forelegs, with the assistance of the godmother, and all passed
off very well.
But as soon as the ceremony was over, the sheep godfather became a
handsome young man. He was Goulven, Lévénez’s oldest brother.
He told how he and his brothers had been changed into sheep by an old
sorceress because he had refused to marry her. His sister, the child’s
mother, could not tell of it lest the same fate should befall her; but
now the charm was broken, and the sorceress had no longer any power
over them.
“Are the sheep really your brothers?” asked the priest.
“Yes, they are my brothers, and the time has come for them also to
escape from the power of the sorceress, and return to their human form.
Lay your stole over them, say a prayer, and you will see them become
men again, as I have done.”
The priest followed his advice: he laid his stole on each of the sheep
successively, recited a prayer each time, and immediately they resumed
their original form.
Goulven then told of the terrible deed which had been done to his
sister by her attendant, the daughter of the sorceress.
So they returned to the castle determined to treat each one as she had
deserved.
They sent men to seek for the old sorceress in the wood where she
dwelt, and when they brought her, she and her daughter and the gardener
were torn to pieces by four horses and then thrown into a great fire
and burned to ashes.
Goulven and Lévénez lived after that peacefully and happily, and were
blessed, they say, with many children.
Told by Le Noac’h, of Gourin, at Merville, near Lorient, March 10,
1874.
F. M. LUZEL.
THE KING AND HIS THREE SONS
Once there was a king who had three sons. He wanted to lay aside his
crown. In his kingdom it was the custom to give it to the oldest; but
as this king loved his three children equally, he could not resolve
to obey this custom and exclude the youngest in advance. He wished
that each of his children should have equal chance to succeed him. He
decided that the crown should belong to whoever of his sons should
bring him the most beautiful flower. He called them together and said
to them,--
“The crown shall belong to the one who shall bring me the most
beautiful flower; go and search.”
The three sons started out, each his own way, after having agreed to
meet in a field well known to them. The first who reached the field
was the oldest. He brought a beautiful flower. The second arrived
next, with a flower still more beautiful. The oldest, seeing it, said
bitterly,--
“I shall not have the crown!”
The youngest came last. His flower was so beautiful that it eclipsed
those of his brothers.
“I shall not have the crown,” said the oldest to himself, angrily; and
seizing the knife which hung from his girdle, he struck his youngest
brother and killed him.
The father, grieved at not seeing his youngest child return, continued
to wait for him before resigning his crown. The younger was so much
afraid of the oldest that he dared not speak.
Several years had passed after the murder, when a shepherdess, who was
keeping her sheep in the field where the three brothers had had their
meeting, found a bone made like a flute.
She put it to her lips and blew. A voice came out of it which sang,--
“Blow softly, shepherdess,
Blow, blow softly;
The knife from the girdle
Cruelly killed me.”
The king heard that the shepherdess had found a bone like a flute which
made harmonious sounds. He had it brought to him, put it to his mouth
and blew. The bone sang,--
“Blow softly, my father,
Blow, blow softly;
The knife from the girdle
Cruelly killed me.”
The king called his younger son, handed him the bone and told him to
blow in it. The son blew; the bone sang,--
“Blow softly, my brother,
Blow, blow softly;
The knife from the girdle
Cruelly killed me.”
The king called his oldest son, handed him the bone and told him to
blow in it. The son blew; the bone sang,--
“Blow softly, my brother,
Blow, blow softly;
The knife from thy girdle
Cruelly killed me.”
At these words, “The knife from thy girdle,” the father understood it
all. He had his oldest son quartered at once.
Told at Fraisses (Loire) by Jacques Bayon, Aug. 19, 1877.
V. S.
FANCH SCOUARNEC
A BRETON STORY
A rich lord was returning, alone, on horseback, from Brest to Rennes.
At Brest, his footman had left him and sailed. He wished to get another
in his place, and as he went along he had already proposed to more
than one; but all had refused; his terms did not suit them. Between
Plounevez-Moëdec and Belle-Isle-en-Terre (doubtless on the bridge of
Saint-Elo) he saw by the roadside a little hut, the one door and window
of which stood open. He got down from his horse so as to walk up to it.
He went to the hut to ask for a fire to light his pipe. Holding his
horse by the bridle, he put his head in at the door, standing with one
foot inside and one out. His horse also put his head in through the
window, which, as I have said, was open. A boy of twelve or thirteen
years was alone in the hut, seated by the hearth-stone.
“Are you alone, my boy?” asked the traveler.
“No,” replied Fanch. (His name was Fanch Scouarnec.)
“But I see no one beside you.”
“It is nevertheless true, that there are in this house at this moment,
a man and a half and the head of a horse.”
“You love to joke I see, but give me a little fire to light my pipe.
Where is your father?”
“My father has gone hunting, and he will leave what he catches, and
bring back to the house what he does not catch.”
“That seems difficult; and where is your mother?”
“My mother has gone to the oven to bake some bread that has been eaten”
“Good, good, you are a real joker; and your sister?”
“My sister is crying for the joy of last year.”
“I do not understand any of it; but you, what are you doing there?”
“I,--I am watching some leap over others and catching a few.”
“Surely, I have never seen any one so full of joke as you; but will you
not explain it all to me?”