sceptre of France. All, including the other prisoners of the Sultan,
were transported back to France. At the same time the Sultan's palace
and prison were destroyed. Next morning, when the Grand Sultan awoke,
he was enraged to find himself outwitted; but what could he do? Even
if he were able to jump as high as the sky, he could not bring back
Leonora. (367-376)
When the French Court returned to France, Edmundo was crowned successor
to the throne: the delight of every one was unbounded. (377-414)
The last six stanzas are occupied with the author's
leave-taking. (415-420)
Groome (pp. 219-220) summarizes a Roumanian-Gypsy story, "The Stolen
Ox," from Dr. Barbu Constantinescu's collection (Bucharest, 1878),
which, while but a fragment, appears to be connected with this cycle
of the "Magic Ring," and presents a curious parallel to a situation in
"Edmundo:"--
"... The lad serves the farmer faithfully, and at the end of his term
sets off home. On his way he lights on a dragon, and in the snake's
mouth is a stag. Nine years had that snake the stag in its mouth, and
been trying to swallow it, but could not because of its horns. Now,
that snake was a prince; and seeing the lad, whom God had sent his way,
'Lad,' said the snake, 'relieve me of this stag's horns, for I've been
going about nine years with it in my mouth.' So the lad broke off the
horns, and the snake swallowed the stag. 'My lad, tie me round your
neck and carry me to my father, for he doesn't know where I am.' So
he carried him to his father, and his father rewarded him."
It is curious to see this identical situation of the hero winning his
magic reward by saving some person or animal from choking appearing in
Roumania and the Philippines, and in connection, too, with incidents
from the "Magic Ring" cycle. The resemblance can hardly be fortuitous.
TALE 11
LUCAS THE STRONG.
Narrated by Paulo Macasaet, a Tagalog, who heard the story from a
Tagalog farmer.
Once there was a man who had three sons,--Juan, Pedro, and
Lucas. His wife died when his children were young. Unlike most of
his countrymen, he did not marry again, but spent his time in taking
care of his children. The father could not give his sons a proper
education, because he was poor; so the boys grew up in ignorance
and superstition. They had no conception of European clothes and
shoes. Juan and Pedro were hard workers, but Lucas was lazy. The
father loved his youngest son Lucas, nevertheless; but Juan and Pedro
had little use for their brother. The lazy boy used to ramble about
the forests and along river-banks looking for guavas and birds' nests.
One day, when Lucas was in the woods, he saw a boa-constrictor
[Tag. sawang bitin]. He knew that this reptile carried the centre of
its strength in the horny appendage at the end of its tail. Lucas
wished very much to become strong, because the men of strength in
his barrio were the most influential. So he decided to rob the boa
of its charm. He approached the snake like a cat, and then with his
sharp teeth bit off the end of its tail, and ran away with all his
might. The boa followed him, but could not overtake him; for Lucas
was a fast runner, and, besides, the snake had lost its strength.
Lucas soon became the strongest man in his barrio. He surprised
everybody when he defeated the man who used to be the Hercules of
the place.
One day the king issued a proclamation: "He who can give the monarch
a carriage made of gold shall have the princess for his wife." When
Juan and Pedro heard this royal announcement, they were very anxious
to get the carriage and receive the reward.
Juan was the first to try his luck. He went to a neighboring mountain
and began to dig for gold. While he was eating his lunch at noon,
an old leper with her child approached him, and humbly begged him to
give her something to eat.
"No, the food I have here is just enough for me. Go away! You are
very dirty," said Juan with disgust.
The wretched old woman, with tears in her eyes, left the place. After
he had worked for three weeks, Juan became discouraged, gave up his
scheme of winning the princess, and returned home.
Pedro followed his brother, but he had no better luck than Juan. He
was also unkind to the old leper.
Lucas now tried his fortune. The day after his arrival at the mountain,
when he was eating, the old woman appeared, and asked him to give her
some food. Lucas gave the woman half of his meat. The leper thanked
him, and promised that she would give him not only the carriage made
of gold, but also a pair of shoes, a coat, and some trousers. She
then bade Lucas good-by.
Nine days passed, and yet the woman had not come. Lucas grew tired
of waiting, and in his heart began to accuse the woman of being
ungrateful. He repented very much the kindness he had shown the old
leper. Finally she appeared to Lucas, and told him what he had been
thinking about her. "Do not think that I shall not fulfil my promise,"
she said. "You shall have them all." To the great astonishment of
Lucas, the woman disappeared again. The next day he saw the golden
carriage being drawn by a pair of fine fat horses; and in the carriage
were the shoes, the coat, and the trousers. The old woman appeared,
and showed the young man how to wear the shoes and clothes.
Then he entered the carriage and was driven toward the palace. On
his way he met a man.
"Who are you?" said Lucas.
"I am Runner, son of the good runner," was the answer.
"Let us wrestle!" said Lucas. "I want to try your strength. If you
defeat me, I will give you a hundred pesos; but if I prove to be the
stronger, you must come with me."
"All right, let us wrestle!" said Runner. The struggle lasted for
ten minutes, and Lucas was the victor. They drove on.
They met another man. When Lucas asked him who he was, the man said,
"I am Sharpshooter, son of the famous shooter." Lucas wrestled with
this man too, and overcame him because of his superhuman strength. So
Sharpshooter went along with Lucas and Runner.
Soon they came up to another man. "What is your name?" said Lucas.
"My name is Farsight. I am son of the great Sharp-Eyes." Lucas proposed
a wrestling-match with Farsight, who was conquered, and so obliged
to go along with the other three.
Last of all, the party met Blower, "son of the great blower." He
likewise became one of the servants of Lucas.
When Lucas reached the palace, he appeared before the king, and in
terms of great submission he told the monarch that he had come for
two reasons,--first, to present his Majesty with the golden carriage;
second, to receive the reward which his Majesty had promised.
The king said, "I will let you marry my daughter provided that you can
more quickly than my messenger bring to me a bottle of the water that
gives youth and health to every one. It is found at the foot of the
seventh mountain from this one," he said, pointing to the mountain
nearest to the imperial city. "But here is another provision,"
continued the king: "if you accept the challenge and are defeated,
you are to lose your head." "I will try, O king!" responded Lucas
sorrowfully.
The king then ordered his messenger, a giant, to fetch a bottle of
the precious water. Lucas bade the monarch good-by, and then returned
to his four friends. "Runner, son of the good runner, hasten to the
seventh mountain and get me a bottle of the water that gives youth
and health!"
Runner ran with all his might, and caught up with the giant; but
the giant secretly put a gold ring in Runner's bottle to make him
sleep. Two days passed, but Runner had not yet arrived. Then Lucas
cried, "Farsight, son of the great Sharp-Eyes, see where the giant
and Runner are!"
The faithful servant looked, and he saw Runner sleeping, and the
giant very near the city. When he had been told the state of affairs,
Lucas called Blower, and ordered him to blow the giant back. The
king's messenger was carried to the eighth mountain.
Then Lucas said, "Sharpshooter, son of the famous shooter, shoot
the head of the bottle so that Runner will wake up!" The man shot
skilfully; Runner jumped to his feet, ran and got the precious water,
and arrived in the city in twelve hours. Lucas presented the water
to the king, and the monarch was obliged to accept the young man as
his son-in-law.
The wedding-day was a time of great rejoicing. Everybody was
enthusiastic about Lucas except the king. The third day after the
nuptials, the giant reached the palace. He said that he was very near
the city when a heavy wind blew him back to the eighth mountain.
Juan and His Six Companions.
Narrated by Vicente M. Hilario, a Tagalog from Batangas, who heard
the story from an old woman from Balayan.
Not very long after the death of our Saviour on Calvary, there lived in
a far-away land a powerful king named Jaime. By judicious usurpations
and matrimonial alliances, this wise monarch extended his already
vast dominions to the utmost limits. Instead of ruling his realm as
a despot, however, he devoted himself to the task of establishing a
strong government based on moderation and justice. By his marvellous
diplomacy he won to his side counts, dukes, and lesser princes. To
crown his happiness, he had an extremely lovely daughter, whose name
was Maria. Neither Venus nor Helen of Troy could compare with her in
beauty. Numerous suitors of noble birth from far and near vied with
one another in spending fortunes on this pearl of the kingdom; but
Maria regarded all suitors with aversion, and her father was perplexed
as to how to get her a husband without seeming to show favoritism.
After consulting gravely with his advisers, the monarch gave out this
proclamation: "He who shall succeed in getting the golden egg from
the moss-grown oak in yonder mountain shall be my son-in-law and heir."
This egg, whose origin nobody knew anything about, rendered its
possessor very formidable. When the proclamation had been made public,
the whole kingdom was seized with wild enthusiasm; for, though the task
was hazardous, yet it seemed performable and easy to the reckless. For
five days and five nights crowds of lovers, adventurers, and ruffians
set sail for the "Mountain of the Golden Egg," as it was called; but
none of the enterprisers ever reached the place. Some were shipwrecked;
others were driven by adverse winds and currents to strange lands,
where they perished miserably; and the rest were forced to return
because of the horrible sights of broken planks and mangled bodies.
Some days after the return of the last set of adventurers, three
brothers rose from obscurity to try their fortunes in this dangerous
enterprise. They were Pedro, Fernando, and Juan. They had been
orphans since they were boys, and had grown up amid much suffering
and hardship.
The three brothers agreed that Pedro should try first; Fernando second;
and Juan last, provided the others did not succeed. After supplying
himself with plenty of food, a good boat, a sword, and a sharp axe,
Pedro embraced his brothers and departed, never to return. He took
a longer and safer route than that of his predecessors. He had no
sooner arrived at the mountain than an old gray-headed man in tattered
clothes came limping towards him and asking for help; but the selfish
Pedro turned a deaf ear to the supplications of the old man, whom he
pushed away with much disrespect. Ignorant of his doom, and regardless
of his irreverence, Pedro walked on with hasty steps and high animal
spirits. But lo! when his axe struck the oak, a large piece of wood
broke off and hit him in the right temple, killing him instantly.
Fernando suffered the same fate as his haughty brother.
Juan alone remained. He was the destined possessor of the egg, and
the conqueror of King Jaime. Juan's piety, simplicity, and goodness
had won for him the good-will of many persons of distinction. After
invoking God's help, he set sail for the mountain, where he safely
arrived at noon. He met the same old man, and he bathed, dressed,
and fed him. The old man thanked Juan, and said, "You shall be amply
requited," and immediately disappeared. With one stroke of his axe
Juan broke the oak in two; and in a circular hole lined with down
he found the golden egg. In the afternoon he went to King Jaime,
to whom he presented the much-coveted egg.
But the shrewd and successful monarch did not want to have a rustic
son-in-law. "You shall not marry my daughter," he said, "unless you
bring me a golden ship."
The next morning Juan, very disconsolate, went to the mountain
again. The old man appeared to him, and said, "Why are you dejected,
my son?"
Juan related everything that had happened.
"Dry your eyes and listen to me," said the old man. "Not very far
from this place you will find your ship all splendidly equipped. Go
there at once!"
The old man disappeared, and Juan ran with all possible speed to
where the ship was lying. He went on deck, and a few minutes later
the ship began to move smoothly over stumps and stones.
While he was thus travelling along, Juan all of a sudden saw a man
running around the mountain in less than a minute. "Corrin Corron,
[36] son of the great runner!" shouted Juan, "what are you doing?" The
man stopped, and said, "I'm taking my daily exercise."
"Never mind that!" said Juan, "come up here and rest!" And Corrin
Corron readily accepted the offer.
Pretty soon Juan saw another man standing on the summit of a high
hill and gazing intently at some distant object. "Mirin Miron, [37]
son of the great Farsight!" said Juan, "what are you doing?"
"I'm watching a game of tubigan [38] seven miles away," answered
the other.
"Never mind!" said Juan, "come up here and eat with me!" And Mirin
Miron gladly went on deck.
After a while Juan saw a hunter with gun levelled. "Puntin Punton,
[39] son of the great Sureshot!" said Juan, "what are you doing?"
"Three miles away there is a bat-fly annoying a sheep. I want to kill
that insect."
"Let the creature go," said Juan, "and come with me!" And Puntin
Punton, too, joined the party.
Not long after, Juan saw a man carrying a mountain on his
shoulders. "Carguin Cargon, [40] son of the great Strong-Back!" shouted
Juan, "what are you doing?"
"I'm going to carry this mountain to the other side of the country
to build a dam across the river," said the man.
"Don't exert yourself so much," said Juan. "Come up here and take
some refreshment!" The brawny carrier threw aside his load; and,
as the mountain hit the ground, the whole kingdom was shaken so
violently that the inhabitants thought that all the volcanoes had
simultaneously burst into eruption.
By and by the ship came to a place where Juan saw young
flourishing trees falling to the ground, with branches twisted and
broken. "Friends," said Juan, "is a storm blowing?"
"No, sir!" answered the sailors, amazed at the sight.
"Master Juan," shouted Mirin Miron, "sitting on the summit of yonder
mountain," pointing to a peak three miles away, "is a man blowing
with all his might."
"He is a naughty fellow," muttered Juan to himself; "he will destroy
all the lumber-trees in this region if we do not stop him." Pretty
soon Juan himself saw the mischievous man, and said, "Soplin Soplon,
[41] son of the great Blast-Blower, what are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm just exercising my lungs and trumpeter's muscles," replied
the other.
"Come along with us!" After blowing down a long line of trees like
grain before a hurricane, Soplin Soplon went on board.
As the ship neared the capital, Juan saw a man lying on a bed of
rushes, with his ear to the ground. "What are you doing, friend?" said
Juan.
"I'm listening to the plaintive strains of a young man mourning
over the grave of his deceased sweetheart, and to the touching
love-ditties of a moonstruck lover," answered the man. "Where are
those two men?" asked Juan.
"They are in a city twelve miles away," said the other. "Never mind,
Oirin Oiron, [42] son of the great Hear-All!" said Juan. "Come up and
rest on a more comfortable bed! My divans superabound." When Oirin
Oiron was on board, Juan said to the helmsman, "To the capital!"
In the evening the magnificent ship, with sails of silk and damask,
masts of gold heavily studded with rare gems, and covered with thick
plates of gold and silver, arrived at the palace gate.
Early in the morning King Jaime received Juan, but this time more
coldly and arrogantly than ever. The princess bathed before break
of day. With cheeks suffused with the rosy tint of the morning,
golden tresses hanging in beautiful curls over her white shoulders,
hands as delicate as those of a new-born babe, eyes merrier than
the humming-bird, and dressed in a rich outer garment displaying her
lovely figure at its best, she stood beside the throne. Such was the
appearance of this lovely mortal, who kindled an inextinguishable
flame in the heart of Juan.
After doffing his bonnet and bowing to the king, Juan said, "Will you
give me the hand of your daughter?" Everybody present was amazed. The
princess's face was successively pale and rosy. Juan immediately
understood her heart as he stood gazing at her.
"Never!" said the king after a few minutes. "You shall never have
my daughter."
"Farewell, then, until we meet again!" said Juan as he departed.
When the ship was beyond the frontier of Jaime's kingdom, Juan
said, "Carguin Cargon, overturn the king's realm." Carguin Cargon
obeyed. Many houses were destroyed, and hundreds of people were crushed
to death. When the ship was within seven miles of the city, Oirin Oiron
heard the king say, "I'll give my daughter in marriage to Juan if he
will restore my kingdom." Oirin Oiron told Juan what he had heard.
Then Juan ordered Carguin Cargon to rebuild the kingdom; but when
the work was done, Jaime again refused to fulfil his promise. Juan
went away very angry. Again the kingdom was overturned, and more
property and lives were destroyed. Again Oirin Oiron heard the king
make a promise, again the kingdom was rebuilt, and again the king
was obstinate.
Juan went away again red with anger. After they had been travelling
for an hour, Oirin Oiron heard the tramp of horses and the clash of
spears and shields. "I can see King Jaime's vast host in hot pursuit
of us," said Mirin Miron. "Where is the army?" said Juan. "It is nine
miles away," responded Mirin Miron.
"Let the army approach," said Soplin Soplon. When the immense host was
within eight hundred yards of the ship, Soplin Soplon blew forcible
blasts, which scattered the soldiers and horses in all directions
like chaff before a wind. Of this formidable army only a handful of
men survived, and these were crippled for life.
Again the king sued for peace, and promised the hand of his daughter
to Juan. This time he kept his word, and Juan and Maria were married
amidst the most imposing ceremonies. That very day King Jaime abdicated
in favor of his more powerful son-in-law. On the site of the destroyed
houses were built larger and more handsome ones. The lumber that
was needed was obtained by Soplin Soplon and Carguin Cargon from the
mountains: Soplin Soplon felled the trees with his mighty blasts, and
Carguin Cargon carried the huge logs to the city. Juan made Corrin
Corron his royal messenger, and Soplin Soplon commander-in-chief of
the raw troops, which later became a powerful army. The other four
friends were assigned to high positions in the government.
The royal couple and the six gifted men led a glorious life. They
conquered new lands, and ruled their kingdom well.
The Story of King Palmarin.
Paraphrased from the vernacular by Anastacia Villegas of Arayat,
Pampanga.
[NOTE.--While the following story is not, strictly speaking,
a folk-tale, since it is a native student's close paraphrase of
a Pampango corrido, or metrical romance, it is typically Filipino
in many respects, and is closely connected with the two foregoing
folk-tales. Moreover, it presents significant features lacking in
the other stories. As it is too long to be relegated to the notes,
I take the liberty of printing it here in full. My justification is
the fact that, after all, sagas, or printed folk-tales, are only the
crystallized sources--or products, as the case may be--of folk-tales.]
Long, long ago, the kingdom of Marsella was ruled over by the worthy
King Palmarin and his wife Isberta. They were attentive to their duty,
and kind to their subjects, whose love they won. All Marsella admired
the goodness and generosity of the king. To whatever he wanted,
his counsellors agreed; and because of his good judgment, his reign
was peaceful.
Time came when the queen gave birth to a child. The whole kingdom
rejoiced, and a great feast was prepared. "Let the feast last
six months," said Zetnaen, chief adviser. The new baby was a girl
of peerless beauty. The holy bishop was summoned to baptize the
child. As the Virgin Mary was the patron saint of the king and queen,
they asked the worthy prelate to name the little princess Maria;
and so she was named.
One day the king went to hunt in the mountains. There was no forest or
cave that the party did not visit. All the animals in the mountains
were thrown into confusion when they heard the great noise. Bears,
tigers, and lions came out of their dens. As soon as these wild beasts
reached the plain, they began to pursue the king and his men. The noise
and confusion cannot be imagined. By the help of God, the king and his
men put to flight their savage foes; and when the chase was ended,
nobody had been hurt. After the hunters had been gathered together
by the sound of the trumpet, they all returned home, thankful that
no one had been injured. The king, however, had unwittingly lost his
favorite reliquary.
When King Palmarin reached Marsella and discovered that his locket
was missing, he at once sent many of his soldiers back to look for
it. They searched all parts of the mountain and even the valley. At
last they returned to the capital, and said to the king, "We, whom
your Majesty commanded to look for the reliquary, have come to tell
you that, after a thorough search through the entire forest and valley,
we have not been able to find it." The king was very sad to hear this
report; but he kept his sorrow to himself, and did not reveal his
heart to his counsellors. He grieved, not because of the value of the
reliquary, but because it had been handed down to him by his father,
whose will and recommendations it contained.
As time went on, the king forgot his lost reliquary. He ceased
looking for it. His daughter the princess was now grown up. She was
beautiful, happy, good-natured, and modest. Those who saw her said
that she was not inferior even to Elsa, Judith, or Anne Boleyn. Now,
the king wished his daughter to marry, so that there might be some
one to inherit his throne when he died. He made his desire known to
his counsellors. He told them that, if they agreed, he would issue
proclamations throughout the whole kingdom and the neighboring cities,
towns, and villages. While this meeting with his council was going
on, the king stood up to powder his face. He took his powder-case
out of his pocket; but when he opened it, there inside he found, to
his surprise, a tuma. [43] He could not imagine how this tiny insect
had got into his box to eat the powder. Feeling very much ashamed,
he did not powder his face: he merely closed the box. The meeting
was adjourned without being finished; for when the king stood up,
the counsellors rose from their seats and silently left the room.
The king retired to his room, and opened his powder-case to look at
the tuma again. He was thoroughly astonished to find that what had
been but a tiny insect a moment before now filled the whole box. He
was indeed perplexed; so he consulted God. Then it came to his mind
to take the tuma from the box and place it in the cellar of the palace.
After three days the king found that a miracle had happened. The
cellar was filled with the tuma. He was not a little surprised. He
said to himself, "What a wonderful animal it is! In three days it has
grown to such an enormous size! If I let it live, I fear that it will
destroy the whole kingdom."
Then he heard a voice saying, "You need not fear, for the tuma
you nourish shall not produce bad fruit. But if you let it live,
it will have a long life, and will fill all of Marsella with its
huge body. Listen to me, and obey what I tell you! Let the tuma be
killed. Burn all its flesh, but save its skin. Use the skin for the
covers of a drum. When you have done all these things, write to all
your neighboring kingdoms and bet with them. Let them guess the kind
of skin out of which the heads of the drum are made. If you will but
obey me, and take care not to let any one know what I have told you,
you will become very rich." Then the voice ceased.
The king comprehended well all that the voice had told him: so he
called his Negro servant, and led him secretly into his room. The king
then said softly, "Let no one know of the secret that I am to disclose
to you, and you shall profit by it. I have a tuma which accidentally
got into my powder-case. One day I put the insect into the cellar,
where it has grown to an enormous size. Now, my command to you is
to kill the tuma, burn all its flesh, and clean its skin. Then have
the skin made into a drum. When everything is done perfectly, I will
repay you."
Accordingly the Negro servant killed the tuma. He followed minutely
the king's directions. When the drum was finished, he presented it
to the king. Instead of receiving the promised reward, however, the
poor Negro was instantly put to death, for the king feared that he
might betray the secret.
King Palmarin then summoned all his counsellors. He said to them,
"I want you to spread the news of my desire." Taking out the drum
and putting it on the table, he continued: "Let all the villages,
cities, and kingdoms know of the wager. Any one who can guess of
what skin the covers of this drum are made, be he rich or poor, if
he is unmarried, he shall be my son-in-law. But if he fails to guess
aright, his property shall be forfeited to the crown if he is rich;
he shall lose his head if he is poor."
The counsellors proclaimed the edict. Many rich nobles, lords, princes,
and knights heard of it. All those who ventured lost their fortune,
for they could not guess what the drum was made of. So the king gained
much wealth. Among them there was one particularly rich, who declared
to the king his great desire to win the princess's hand. King Palmarin
said to this knight, "Examine the drum carefully." After looking at
it closely, he said, "This drum is made of sheep's hide."--"Your
observation has deceived you," said the king. "Now all the wealth
you have brought with you shall be mine."
"What can I do if fortune turns against me?" said the knight.
"Let your Majesty send his servants to get all my property from
the ship."
The names of the hides of all known animals were given, but no one
guessed correctly. At last some of those who had been defeated said
to the king, "Of what is the drum made?"
"I cannot tell you yet," replied the king.
In one of the villages where the edict was proclaimed there lived a
young man named Juan. He was an orphan. After the death of his parents,
the property he had inherited from them he gave to the poor. One day
me met the king's messengers, who explained the edict minutely to him,
so that he might tell about it to others. Don Juan then went away. He
was sad, for he had no wealth to take with him to Marsella. Though
he had inherited much property, he had given away most of it, so that
now very little was left to him.
One day, while he was looking about his farm, he saw all of a sudden
some dead persons lying prostrate in the thicket. They had been
murdered by bandits. He hired men to bury these corpses decently in
the sacred ground, and paid the priest to celebrate masses for their
souls. He then returned home sad, meditating on his bad luck.
At midnight, while he was sleeping soundly, he heard a voice
saying to him, "Go to Marsella and take part in the wager of King
Palmarin. Do not be troubled because you have no riches. Your horses
are enough. Equip them in the best way you can." Then the voice ceased.
Don Juan felt very glad. The next morning he prepared materials for
equipping his horses, and hired laborers, whom he paid double so as to
hasten the work. The harnesses were of pure gold, decorated with pearls
and rubies. The saddle-cloths were embroidered. Two of the horses
(they were all very fat, and had long manes) were hazel-colored,
two were spotted, two were orange-colored, and one was white. When
everything was ready, Don Juan mounted the white one, and loaded on
the other six his baggage.
God rewarded Don Juan for what he had done to the dead bodies. He
called St. Michael, and said to him, "Go to purgatory and get six
of the souls who were benefited by Don Juan, for now is the time for
them to repay him. They shall go back to the world to meet Don Juan
on his way, follow him to Marsella, and provide him with everything
he needs. They must not leave him until you call them back, for
there are many serious dangers on his way." The angel went on his
errand. He selected six souls, and told them to return to the world
to help Don Juan. The spirits were glad to go, for they longed to
repay their benefactor.
Don Juan was now on his journey. As he rode along, the birds in the
forest sang to cheer him, so that the long journey might not tire
him. By and by he saw a man in the middle of the forest, lying on
his face. "Grandpa, what are you doing there?" said Juan.
"I am observing the world. Are you not a nobleman? Whither are
you bound?"
"To Marsella," replied Don Juan.
"To bet? If that is your purpose, you are sure to lose, for it is
certain that you cannot guess of what the drum is made," interrupted
the man.
"I entreat you to tell me the right answer, if you know it," said
Don Juan.
"I will not only tell it to you, but I will also accompany you. That
is why I am here. I was waiting for you to pass," said the man.
"Grandpa, I'm astonished. You must be a prophet."
"You are right. I am the sage prophet Noet Noen, [44] who will go
with you to King Palmarin."
"I appreciate your help and am grateful to you, grandpa," said Don
Juan. "You had better ride on one of the horses."
Noet Noen and Don Juan rode on together. The prophet then related to
Juan the whole story of the tuma that had got into the powder-case
of the king. While the two travellers were talking, they saw a man
sitting under a tree. As it was very hot, they dismounted so that
their horses might rest. Don Juan was surprised at the stranger. He
was whistling; and every time he whistled, the wind blew strong,
so that the trees in the forest were broken off. This man was Supla
Supling, a companion and friend of Noet Noen.
"Supla Supling, why are you here?" said Noet Noen.
"To follow you," was the reply.
"If that is your desire," said Don Juan, "you will please mount one
of the horses." So the three men went on their journey. They had not
gone far when they met a man walking alone. Noet Noen said to him,
"What are you here for? Come along with us!" This man was Miran Miron,
who had a wonderfully loud voice. When he shouted, his sound was
more sonorous than thunder. He also had very keen sight. He could
see clearly an object, though it were covered with a cover a hundred
yards thick.
When the four travellers had gone a little farther, they saw a man
walking swiftly on one leg. They spurred up their horses to overtake
him, but in vain. At last Noet Noen said, "I think that is my friend
Curan Curing, so there is little hope of our catching him."
"Let me call him!" said Miran Miron, and he shouted.
When Curan Curing heard the voice, he stopped, so they reached
him. Miran Miron said to him, "You are in a great hurry. Where are
you going?"
"You know that I cannot stop my feet when I walk," said Curan Curing.
"Why do you hold up one of your legs as if it were in pain?" said
Don Juan.
"Do not be surprised at my walking on one foot; for, if I should let
loose the other one, I should walk straight out of the world."
"Will you join us, Curan Curing?" said Noet Noen.
"Oh, yes! Let me have a horse! If I should walk, you might lose me
on account of my speed," replied Curan Curing.
So the five adventurers went on together. As it soon grew very warm,
they stopped to rest under a tree.
Then they saw a wounded deer coming toward them. As they were hungry,
they killed it and cooked it. While they were eating, the hunter
Punta Punting came. He said, "Have you seen a wounded deer?"
"Oh, yes! here it is. We are eating it already," said Supla Supling,
"for we are very hungry."
"I'm glad that the deer I wounded relieves your hunger," said Punta
Punting. "What are you all doing here? Where are you going? Why don't
you take me with you?"
"If that is your wish, we are very glad to have you," said Don Juan.
The little party rode on, but suddenly stopped; for a mountain was
walking toward them. As it approached, they saw that a man was carrying
the mountain. Don Juan was not a little surprised at this astonishing
feat of strength. "Where have you been, Carguen Cargon? Where did
you get that mountain?" said Noet Noen.
"I took it from behind the church of Candaba, for I want to transfer it
here, where the land is level. This mountain is not fitted for Candaba;
for the natives, rich or poor, build their houses out of wood,--even
the poorest, who cannot afford such luxury. They desolate its forests,
for they cut down even the young trees." Then with a great thunder
Carguen Cargon dropped his burden on the land of Arayat, just behind
the church. On account of its immense size, this mountain reached
clear to de la Paz. The slopes reached Calumpit, and its base was in
view of Apalit. Thus we see that Mount Alaya (Arayat) has come from
Candaba. The original site of this mountain became a river, swamps,
and brooks. Now Candaba has many ponds.
"Friend, I entreat you to come with us!" said Noet Noen.
"I shall be glad to go with you, if I shall only have the opportunity
of serving you with my strength," replied Carguen Cargon.
Now the little band of seven travelled on. When they came near the
gates of Marsella, Noet Noen said, "Let us rest here first!" There
they hired a house, where they staid at the expense of Don Juan.
The next morning Don Juan made himself ready to go on alone. Leading
his horses, he was about to start for the palace, when Noet Noen
called to him, and said, "Be sure not to forget the name of the skin
I told you. Put it in the depths of your heart."
"Have no fear that I shall forget," said Don Juan. "Furthermore,
Don Juan, I want you to undertake to do whatever the king may ask of
you. Do not refuse. No matter how hard the task the king may impose
on you, do not hesitate to undertake it; for God Almighty is ever
merciful, and will help you. If the king requires you to do anything,
just come back here and let me know of it. Now you may go. Take
courage, for God loves a person who suffers," said Noet Noen.
"Good-by to every one of you!" said Don Juan to his companions. Then
he went on his journey. When he reached the palace, he asked the
soldier who was on guard to announce him to the king. When the king
heard of the message, he said to the soldier, "Let him come in, if
his purpose is to bet; but assure him that, if he loses, he shall
also lose his life."
Then the soldier went back to the gate, and said to the stranger,
"The king admits you into his presence."
Don Juan entered the palace. He saluted the king. "What is it that
you want? Tell it to me, so that I may know," said the king.
"O king! pardon me for disturbing your Majesty. It is the edict your
Highness issued that gives me the right to come here, and that has made
me forget my inferiority; for I do rely entirely on the fact that your
word in the proclamation will never be broken. So now I hope, that,
if fortune goes with me, your Majesty will carry out his promise."
These words made the king laugh, for he was sure that there was no
one who could beat him in the wager: so he said, "What property have
you with you that you wish to risk?"
Don Juan replied, "Six horses, of which your Highness can make use."
The king looked out the window, and there he saw Don Juan's
horses. King Palmarin was much pleased at their beauty, sleekness, and
elegance of equipment. Turning to Don Juan, he said, "Do you really
wish to bet? I feel as if you were already beaten. Princes and wise
kings have taken part in the wager, and all have lost. I tell you
about them because I do not want you to repent in the end. Moreover,
I have pity for your life and your property."
"What can I do if fortune turns against me? I will never lay the
fault on anybody."
"Well," said the king, leading Don Juan to the table where the drum
was, "try your skill."
Holding and sounding the drum, and pretending to examine it carefully,
Juan said softly to the king, "I think that it is made of the skin
of a tuma," and he went on relating to the king the whole story of
the tuma from the time it got into his powder-case, until the king
finally interrupted,
"Enough! You have beaten me."
"I am glad if I have. I hope that the terms of the proclamation will
be fulfilled," said Don Juan.
The king remarked, "You are not fitted to join my royal family. Such
a low person as you would disgrace me, and humble my dynasty. So take
your horses with you and go back to your country."
"O king! I am not at fault in the least. It is your Majesty who issued
the edict that any one, rich or poor, who could beat you in the wager,
should be wedded to your daughter. Now I only cling to the right your
Majesty has given me," returned Don Juan. "I had been thinking that
the proclamation your Highness signed would be kept; for it is known
far and wide that you are a king."
By this answer King Palmarin was perplexed. He stopped for a moment to
consider the matter. Then the thought of getting rid of Don Juan--that
is, of killing him--came into his mind: so he said, "Though you are
far below my family, if you can do what I shall ask you to do now,
I will admit you into the royal line."
"I am always ready to obey your Majesty's command," said Don Juan.
"I had a reliquary, which I inherited from my royal father. I lost
it while I was hunting once in the forest twenty years ago. Now I
want you to look for it. I will give you three days. If you do not
find it in that time, you shall be severely punished," said the king.
Don Juan left the court and returned to his companions. He told them
what had passed between him and the king in the palace. Noet Noen
encouraged him, and said, "Do not be sad! for by the aid of God the
reliquary shall be found. Remember, there is nothing difficult if you
call on God.--What do you say, comrades? It is now time for you to
help Don Juan, so as to distract him from his sorrow.--Miran Miron,
as you have keen eyes, it will not take you long to find it. Try your
best, and look everywhere."
"Trust me; I'll be responsible for finding it," said Miran
Miron. "To-morrow I will set out in quest of it."
As to the king, he was at ease, for he was sure that Don Juan could
not find the reliquary.
The next day Miran Miron set out in search of the reliquary, which
he found covered with thirty yards of earth. He dug out the earth
until he reached the locket; then he returned to his companions,
and delivered it to Don Juan. His comrades, seeing him rejoice at
the sight of the reliquary, said, "Again we have beaten the king."
Noet Noen said, "Don Juan, to-morrow take King Palmarin his reliquary."
The next day Don Juan set out for the court. When he reached the
palace, he saluted the king, who was astonished. "How! Don Juan,
have you given up so soon? How goes the quest?"
"Here, I have found the reliquary," said Don Juan, taking it out and
putting it on the table. Then he continued, "Let your Majesty examine
to see if it is the right one."
The king looked at it carefully. Indeed, it was his own reliquary. He
said to himself, "What a wonder Don Juan is! In two days without any
difficulty he has found the reliquary. I did not even tell him the
exact place where I lost it, and many people failed to come across it
as soon as it was missed. Here in Marsella he has no equal." Then he
said to Don Juan, "I am astonished at the ability you have shown. There
is no tongue that can express my gratitude to you for bringing me
back my reliquary, the delight of my heart."
Don Juan replied, "If there is yet something to be done, let your
Highness command his loyal vassal, who is always ready to obey."
"If that is so, in order that you may obtain what you wish," said
the king, "go to Rome and take my letter to the Pope. Wait for his
answer. I will also send another person to carry the same message. The
one who comes after the other shall receive death as a punishment,"
said the king.
"Your loyal subject will try to obey you," said Don Juan.
So the king wrote two letters to the holy Pope, and gave one to Don
Juan, who immediately left the palace and went to his friends. He
was sad, meditating on his fate.
The king's messenger, Bruja, [45] set out for Rome that very moment. He
was told to use his charm and to hurry up. So he went flying swiftly,
like an arrow shot from a bow.
When Don Juan reached his comrades, he said, "I gave the reliquary
to the king. Now he wants me to go to Rome to deliver this letter
to the Pope and wait for his answer. At the same time the king has
sent another messenger. If I come after his arrival in Marsella,
I shall lose my life. You see what a hard task the king has given
me. I do not know very well the way to Rome, and, besides, the wise
Bruja is winged."
"Do not worry," said Noet Noen. "If God will, we shall defeat the
king. Even if he has Bruja to send, you have some one also: so pluck
up your courage!"
"What do you say, Curan Curing? Show your skill, and go to Rome flying
like the wind," said Noet Noen.
"Do not be troubled, Don Juan," said Curan Curing. "I will carry the
letter even to the gates of heaven. For me a journey to Rome is not
far--in just one leap I shall be there. Give me the letter. To-morrow
I will set out. To-day I will rest, so that I can walk fast." Don Juan
gave Curan Curing the letter, and they all went to sleep. Perhaps by
this time Bruja had already arrived at Rome.
The next morning Curan Curing started on his journey to deliver
the letter to the Pope. When he was half way to Rome, he met Bruja
walking very swiftly, and already returning to Marsella. "Are you
Don Juan?" said Bruja, "and are you just going to Rome now? You are
beaten. Do not waste your energy any more. If you walk like that,
you cannot reach Rome in two months."
Bruja spoke so, because Curan Curing was walking on only one leg. But
when he heard these words, he let loose his other leg and went faster
than a bullet. He arrived almost instantly at Rome, and delivered
the letter to the holy Pope, who, after reading it, wrote an answer
and gave it to the messenger.
Curan Curing then made his way back towards his companions. He went as
fast as the wind, and overtook Bruja on the road. "What! Are you still
here? What is the matter? How is it that you have not reached Marsella
yet? Where is that boast of yours, that I am already beaten? Now I
am sure that you will disappoint your king, who relies too much upon
your skill," said Curan Curing.
Bruja, fearing that he should be defeated, for Don Juan's messenger
was very spry, planned to trick Curan Curing. So Bruja said, "Friend,
let us rest here a while! I have a little wine with me. We will drink
it, if it pleases you, and take a little rest while the sun is so hot."
"Oh, yes! if you have some wine. It will be a fine thing for us to
drink to quench our thirst," replied Curan Curing.
The wine was no sooner handed to him than he fell asleep. Then Bruja
put on one of Curan Curing's fingers a ring, so as to insure victory
for the king. Whoever had Bruja's ring would sleep soundly and never
wake as long as the charmed ring was on his finger. So Bruja, with
a light heart, flew away and left the sleeping messenger. Bruja
flew so swiftly, that in a moment he was seen by Curan Curing's
companions. When they saw the king's messenger coming swiftly near
them, they felt very sad. But as soon as Supla Supling was sure that
it was Bruja flying through the air toward them, he said, "Let me
manage him! I will make his journey longer. I will blow him back,
so that he will not win." Supla Supling then breathed deeply and
blew. Bruja was carried back beyond Rome. How Don Juan's companions
rejoiced! Bruja did not sleep during the whole night: he was trying
his best to reach Marsella.
The next morning Noet Noen said, "I never thought that our friend
Curan Curing would be so slow. He has not come yet. Bruja has made him
drink wine and has put him to sleep. The trickish fellow has placed
on one of Curan Curing's fingers a magic ring, which keeps him in a
profound sleep."
When Punta Punting heard Noet Noen's words, he shot his arrow, though
he could not see the object he was aiming at. But the ring was hit,
and the arrow returned to its master with the magic ring on it. Such
was the virtue of Punta Punting's arrow. As for Curan Curing, he was
awakened. He felt the ring being moved from his finger; but the charm
was still working in him, and he fell asleep again.
Noet Noen, knowing that Curan Curing was again asleep, called Miran
Miron, and said, "Pray, wake the sleeper under the tree !"
Miran Miron then shouted. Curan Curing awoke suddenly, frightened
at the noise. Now, being wide awake, he realized the trick Bruja
had played on him. He looked to see if he still had the Pope's
letter. Luckily Bruja had not stolen it. Curan Curing then began
his journey. Though he went faster than the lightning, he could not
overtake Bruja, who was very far ahead of him. In the mean time Bruja
was seen by Miran Miron. He was enraged, and cried out loud. When Supla
Supling heard his friend shout, he blew strongly. Bruja got stuck
in the sky: he was scorched by the glowing sun. Not long afterwards
Curan Curing arrived, and gave the letter to Don Juan.
Don Juan at once set out for Marsella. When he reached the palace,
he delivered the Pope's letter to the king. The king, realizing that
he was beaten, said to Don Juan, "Though you have won, I will not
grant your request, for you are too inferior. You may go."
Don Juan replied, "Great King, nobody ordered your Highness to issue
the decree to which your hand did sign your name. I trusted your
word, and I ventured to take part in the wager. Now, honorable king,
my complaint is that your Majesty breaks his word."
The king was meditating as to what to do next to check Don Juan. At
last he said, "I want you to show me some more of your wisdom. If
you can sail on dry land, and I can see your ship to-morrow morning
moored here in front of the palace, I will believe in your power and
wisdom. So you may go. My subjects, the queen, and I will be here to
see you sail on dry land to-morrow morning."
Don Juan did not complain at all. He rose from his seat, sad and
melancholy, and bade the king good-by. When he reached his companions,
Noet Noen said, "You need not speak. I know what is the matter. I
will manage the business, and all our comrades will help, so that our
sailing on dry land to-morrow will not be delayed.--Carguen Cargon,
my friend, go to the inn and fetch a large strong ship."
Carguen Cargon went on his errand. It was not long before he found the
right ship. So, shouldering it, he brought it back to his companions.
The next day everything was ready for the journey. Noet Noen said,
"You will be in charge of the rudder, Carguen Cargon, so that the ship
may go smoothly.--Supla Supling, sit at the stern and blow the sails,
so that we may go fast.--The rest of us will serve as mariners. Cry
'Happy voyage!' as soon as we enter the city."
Accordingly Supla Supling blew the sails. The wind roared, and many
trees fell down. The little band sailed through the kingdom. All the
people who saw them were wondering. They said, "Were this deed not
by enchantment, they could not sail on dry land. Where do you think
this ship came from, if not from the land of enchanters?"
When the sailors reached the city, they found King Palmarin looking
out of the window of his palace. Don Juan then disembarked from
his ship and went before the king to greet him. Don Juan said,
"Your Majesty's servant is here. He is ready to obey your will: so,
if there is anything more to be done, let your Highness order him."
The king felt ashamed for being a liar, and did not ask Don Juan to
perform any more miracles. "Don Juan, I have now seen your wonderful
wisdom. You may return to your country, for I will not give you the
hand of my daughter," said King Palmarin.
"Farewell, O king! Your own order has caused all that has
happened. Though I have not succeeded in accomplishing my purpose,
I have no reason to be ashamed to face anybody. What troubles me is,
that, in spite of your widespread reputation for honor, you do not
keep even one of your thousand million words. After some one has
done you some service, you turn him away. Farewell, king! To my own
country I will return," said Don Juan as he left the palace.
The king did not say anything, for he realized the truth of the
knight's statement. Don Juan went to the boat. He and his companions
sailed back to their station. As they passed out of the city, the
people hailed them. His companions cheered him up and encouraged
him. When they arrived at their lodging-place, Noet Noen said, "Let
us stay a little longer and wait for God's aid, which He always gives
to the humble! All that has happened is God's will, so do not worry,
Don Juan."
"I will do whatever you wish," said Don Juan.
So they staid in the ship. Several months passed by, but nothing was
heard. At last the Moors invaded Marsella. They put to death many
of the inhabitants, and shut up the king and the rest of his men in
jail. He, the queen, and the princess grieved very much, for they
suffered many hardships in their narrow prison. When news of this
conquest reached the seven, Noet Noen said to his companions, "Now is
our turn to help Marsella. Use all your skill; for in driving away
the Moors we serve a double purpose: first, we help the Christians;
second, Don Juan."
"Let me be general!" said Curan Curing. "If I rush at the Moors,
they will not know what to do."
Supla Supling said, "As for me, no Moor can stay near me, for I will
blow him away, and he will be lost in the air."
"Though I have no weapons, no one can face me in battle without
tumbling down in fear," said Miran Miron.
Carguen Cargon joined in. "I will pull up a tree and carry it with
me; so that, even if all the Moors unite against me, they shall lie
prostrate before me."
"My arrow is enough for me to face Moors with," said Punta Punting.
At the command of Noet Noen they set out. Curan Curing walked with
one leg; still he was far ahead of his companions. He then would stop,
return to his friends, and say impatiently, "Hurry up!"
At last they told him that he would be overtired. "The general ought
to get weary if he commands," said Curan Curing. "But I shall never
get tired from walking at this rate!"
When they arrived at Marsella, Noet Noen encouraged his
companions. Carguen Cargon pulled up a tree fifteen yards tall and six
yards in circumference. He rushed at the Moors, and, by swinging the
tree constantly, he swept away the enemy. Curan Curing walked with
both his legs. He crushed the enemy, who fell dead as he stepped on
them. Miran Miron shouted. His loud voice frightened the Moors. Punta
Punting shot with his arrow. Whenever it had killed a Moor, it returned
to its master. After many Moors had fallen, the rest could not maintain
the fight, and they fled. Noet Noen then gathered together his men,
and said, "Let us look for the king!"
They opened all the jails and freed the prisoners. The six victors
cried, "Hurrah for Don Juan!" and said to the released persons,
"All of you who have been held prisoners must thank Don Juan; for,
were it not for him, we should not have come to your aid."
"Who is this benefactor? We wish to know to whom we owe our lives,"
said the king.
Noet Noen said, "By God's will we gained the victory. It is Don Juan
who brought us here to save you from the hands of the infidels. So
he is indeed the benefactor."
"Don Juan!" the crowd then shouted. "Our lives we owe to you.--Hurrah
for our savior! Hurrah for the whole kingdom!"
The king, queen, princess, counsellors, and the victors went to the
palace. They were all happy. When they had taken their seats, the king
spoke thus: "What shall we give the victor? As for me, even the whole
kingdom is too small a reward for saving us. Lend me your advice."
Noet Noen answered, "Let me make a suggestion, O king! You already
know what Don Juan desires. Do him justice, for he not only beat you in
the wager, but also succeeded in accomplishing all your commands. Now
he saves you and your kingdom, and restores you to power. Let your
issued decree be carried out." The king then consulted the queen,
and said that the stranger was right.
The counsellors said, "King, Don Juan deserves the reward named in
the edict; for, were it not for him, your people and even you would
now be slaves."
So at last the king agreed, and, as a bishop was present, the
marriage was performed immediately. After the marriage ceremony,
the king said, "Hear me, counsellors! As I am now too old to rule,
and can no longer perform the duty of king, I am going to abdicate
in favor of my son-in-law.--Don Juan, on your head I lay the crown
with its sceptre. Do whatever you will, for you are now full king."
The queen rose from her seat, and, taking off the diadem from her
head, she placed it on her daughter, saying, "My darling, receive
the diadem of the kingdom, so that all may recognize you as their new
queen." All the counsellors then rose, and shouted, "Hurrah for the
new couple! May God give them long lives! May they be successful!" The
entire kingdom rejoiced, and held banquets.
When Don Juan had become king, he made a trip with his six
companions throughout the entire kingdom, giving alms to the needy
and sick. When the royal visit was over, he returned with his friends
to the palace. Then Noet Noen said to the king, "Our king, Don Juan,
do not be astonished at what I am going to tell you. Since you have
now got what you wanted, we now bid you farewell."
"Why are you going away? What is there in me that you do not like? Pray
do not leave me until I have repaid you!" He then called each of the
six, and expressed his great gratitude to him, and begged him not
to go away. "I will even abdicate the throne if you want me to," Don
Juan said, "for your departure will kill me." The queen also begged
the six men not to leave.
At last Noet Noen said, "Don Juan, long have we lived together; yet
you know not whence we come, for we have never told you. We cannot be
absent from there much longer." The prophet then related minutely to
the king who they were, and why they had come to his aid. Then the
six men disappeared.
Notes.
The course of events common to these three stories is this: A king
proclaims that he will give the hand of his daughter to the one who
can furnish him with a very costly or marvellous conveyance. The poor
young hero, because of his kindness to a wretched old man or woman (or
corpse), is given the wonderful conveyance. On his way to the palace
to present his gift, he meets certain extraordinary men, whom he takes
along with him as companions. The king, realizing the low birth of the
hero, refuses the hand of his daughter until additional tasks have
been performed. With the help of his companions, the hero performs
these, and finally weds the princess. This group of stories was almost
certainly imported into the Philippines from Europe, where analogues
of it abound. I know of no significant Eastern variants. Parallels
to certain incidents can be found in Malayan and Filipino lore,
but the cycle as a whole is clearly not native to the Islands.
In a broad sense, our stories belong to the "Bride Wager" formula
(see Von Hahn, 1 : 54, Nos. 23 and 24). The requirement that a
suitor shall guess correctly the kind of skin from which a certain
drum-head is made (usually a louse-skin) is to be found in Italian
(Basile, 1 : 5; cf. Gonzenbach, No. 22; Schneller, No. 31), Spanish
(Caballero, trans, by J. H. Ingram, "The Hunchback"), German (Grimm,
2 : 467, "The Louse," where the princess makes a dress, not a drum,
from the skin of the miraculous insect). Only Basile's story combines
the louse-skin motif with the wonderful companions,--a combination
found in our "King Palmarin." There seems to be no close connection,
however, between these two tales. Although Oriental Märchen turning
on this motif of the louse-skin drum are lacking, the Filipino corrido
need not have got the conception from Europe: it is Malayan. In a list
of the Jelebu regalia occurs this item: "The royal drums (gendang
naubat); said to be 'headed' with the skins of lice (kulit tuma)"
(see Skeat 2, 27).
We have already met with the extraordinary companions (No. 3;
see especially variant d, "Sandangcal," which relates a contest
between the hero's runner and the king's messenger). For the formula,
see Bolte-Polívka's notes to Grimm, No. 71. Benfey (Ausland, 1858,
pp. 1038 et seq., 1067 et seq.) believes the "Skilful Companions"
cycle as represented by Grimm, Nos. 71 and 134; Basile, Nos. 28 and
36; Straparola, 4 : 1, etc.--to be a kind of humorous derivative
of the cycle we shall call the "Rival Brothers" (q.v., No. 12 of
this collection), and which he shows to have spread into Europe
from India. There are significant differences, however, between
these two groups; and Benfey's treatment of them together causes
confusion. In the "Skilful Companions" cycle, the extraordinary men
are in reality servants of the hero, who sets out and wins the hand
of a princess. They are picked up by chance. In the "Rival Brothers"
cycle, on the other hand, the three (or four) brothers set out to learn
trades and to win their fortunes, often wonderful objects of magic;
the brothers meet later by appointment, combine their skill to succor
a princess, and then quarrel as to which deserves her most. In stories
of the "Strong Hans" type (e.g., Grimm, No. 166) or "John the Bear"
(Cosquin, No. 1), where the extraordinary companions also appear,
they turn out to be rascals, who faithlessly desert the hero. In
our stories, however, the specially-endowed men are supplied by a
grateful supernatural being, to help the kind-hearted hero win in his
contests with the stubborn king. (Compare Gonzenbach's Sicilian story,
No. 74, which includes a thankful saint, with characteristics of the
"Grateful Dead," a "Land-and-water Ship," and "Skilful Companions.")
The names of the companions in "King Palmarin" and "Juan and his
Six Friends" are clearly derived from the Spanish. In Caballero's
story of "Lucifer's Ear" we find these names: Carguin ("carrier"),
Oidin ("hearer"), Soplin ("sigher or blower"). All three occur in
"Juan and his Six Friends." In the three Filipino tales the total
number of different strong men is only seven,--Know-All, Blower,
Farsight, Runner, Hunter, Carrier, Sharp-Ear. This close conformity,
when we consider the wide variety to be found in the European stories
(see Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 87-94; Panzer, Beowulf, 66-74), suggests an
ultimate common source for our variants. The phrase "Soplin Soplon,
son of the great blower" (in "Juan and his Six Friends") is almost
an exact translation of "Soplin Soplon, hijo del buen soplador"
(Caballero, "Lucifer's Ear"). This same locution in the vernacular
is found in the Tagalog folk-tale of "Lucas the Strong."
The ship that will sail on land is often met with in European
stories. See R. Köhler, "Orient und Occident," 2 : 296-299; also
his notes to Gonzenbach, No. 74. Compare also the Argonaut saga;
and Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 87-95 passim.
In two of our stories the hero's runner is almost defeated by
the king's messenger, who treacherously makes use of a magic
sleep-producing ring. One of the other companions, however, discovers
the trick, and the skilful hunter awakens the sleeper with a well-aimed
shot. For this feat of Sharpshooter's, see Gonzenbach, No. 74; Grimm,
No. 71; Meier, No. 8; Ey, Harzmärchenbuch, 116.
Of native beliefs found in our stories, two are deserving of
comment. The method by which Lucas becomes possessed of great strength
reflects a notion held by certain old Tagalogs. Some of the men around
Calamba, Laguna province, make an incision in the wrist and put in
it a small white bone taken from the end of the tail of the sawang
bitin (a species of boa). The cut is then sewed up. Those who have
a talisman of this sort believe that at night it travels all over
the body and produces extraordinary strength. (For similar Malayan
superstitions, see Skeat 2, 303-304.) The legend (in "King Palmarin")
about the origin of Mount Arayat and the swamp of Candaba is but one
of many still told by old Pampangans. Its insertion into a romance
with European setting is an instance of the Filipino romance writers'
utter disregard or ignorance of geographical propriety.
In conclusion, attention may be called to the fact that while
these three stories have the same basic framework, each has its own
peculiar variations. The testimony of the narrator of "Juan and his
Six Companions," that his informant, an old Balayan woman, said that
the story was very popular in her section of the country, is a bit of
evidence that the tale has been known in the Philippines for decades,
probably. Whether or not her form of the story was derived from
a printed account, I am unable to say; but I suspect that it was;
the diction sounds "bookish." Nevertheless I have found no external
evidence of a Tagalog corrido treating the story we have printed.
TALE 12
THE THREE BROTHERS.
Narrated by Clodualdo Garcia, an llocano, who was told the story by
his mother when he was a small boy.
There was once an old woman who had three sons. The father died when
Tito, the youngest brother, was only five years old; and the mother was
left alone to bring up her three boys. The family was very poor; but
the good woman worked hard, and her sons grew into sturdy young men.
One day the mother called her sons before her, and said, "Now, my sons,
as you see my strength is failing me, I want each of you to go into
the world to seek his fortune. After nine years, come back home and
show me what you have learned to do." The three brothers consented,
and resolved to leave home the very next morning.
Early the following day the three brothers--An-no the oldest, Berto
the second, and Tito the youngest--bade their mother good-by, and
set out on their travels. They followed a wide road until they came
to a place where it branched in three directions. Here they stopped
and consulted. It was at last agreed that An-no should take the north
branch, Berto the south branch, and Tito the east branch. Before they
separated, An-no proposed that at the end of the nine years they should
all meet at the cross-roads before presenting themselves to their
mother. Then each, wishing the others good luck, proceeded on his way.
Well, to make a long story short, at the end of the nine years the
three brothers met again at the place designated. Each of them told
what he had learned during that time. An-no had been in the company of
glass-makers, and he had learned the art of glass-making. Berto had
been employed in a shipyard, and during the nine years had become an
expert boat-builder. The youngest brother, unfortunately, had fallen
into the company of bad men, some notorious robbers. While he was
with this band, he became the best and most skilful robber in the
gang. After each had heard of the others' fortunes, they started for
their home. Their mother felt very glad to have all her sons with
her once more.
Shortly after this family had been re-united, the king issued a
proclamation stating that his daughter, the beautiful princess Amelia,
had been kidnapped by a brave stranger, and that whoever could give
any information about her and restore her to the palace should be
allowed to marry her. When the three brothers heard this news, they
resolved to use their knowledge and skill to find the missing princess.
An-no had brought home with him a spy-glass in which everything hidden
from the eyes of men could be seen. With this instrument, he told his
brothers, he could locate the princess. He looked through his glass,
and saw her confined in a tower on an island. When An-no had given
this information to the king, the next question was how to rescue
her. "We'll do the rest," said the two younger brothers.
Accordingly Berto built a ship. When it was finished, the three
brothers boarded her and sailed to the island where the princess
was confined; but there they found the tower very closely guarded by
armed soldiers, so that it seemed impossible to get into it. "Well,
that is easy," said Tito. "You stay here and wait for my return. I
will bring the princess with me."
The famous young robber then went to work to steal the
princess. Through his skill he succeeded in rescuing her and bringing
her to the ship. Then the four sailed directly for the king's
palace. The beautiful princess was restored to her father. With great
joy the king received them, and a great feast was held in the palace
in honor of the rescue of his daughter. After the feast the king asked
the three brothers to which of them he should give his daughter's
hand. Each claimed the reward, and a quarrel arose among them. The
king, seeing that all had played important parts in the rescue of the
princess, decided not to bestow his daughter on any of them. Instead,
he gave half his wealth to be divided equally among An-no, Berto,
and Tito.
Three Brothers of Fortune.
Narrated by Eugenio Estayo, a Pangasinan, who heard the story from
Toribio Serafica, a native of Rosales, Pangasinan.
In former times there lived in a certain village a wealthy man who
had three sons,--Suan, Iloy, and Ambo. As this man was a lover of
education, he sent all his boys to another town to school. But these
three brothers did not study: they spent their time in idleness and
extravagance. When vacation came, they were ashamed to go back to
their home town, because they did not know anything; so, instead,
they wandered from town to town seeking their fortunes.
In the course of their travels they met an old woman broken with
age. "Should you like to buy this book, my grandsons?" asked the old
woman as she stopped them.
"What is the virtue of that book, grandmother?" asked Ambo.
"My grandsons," replied she, "if you want to restore a dead person
to life, just open this book before him, and in an instant he will
be revived." Without questioning her further, Ambo at once bought
the book. Then the three continued their journey.
Again they met an old woman selling a mat. Now, Iloy was desirous of
possessing a charm, so he asked the old woman what virtue the mat had.
"Why, if you want to travel through the air," she said, "just step
on it, and in an instant you will be where you desire to go." Iloy
did not hesitate, but bought the mat at once.
Now, Suan was the only one who had no charm. They had not gone far,
however, before he saw two stones, which once in a while would
meet and unite to form one round black stone, and then separate
again. Believing that these stones possessed some magical power,
Suan picked them up; for it occurred to him that with them he would
be able to unite things of the same or similar kind. This belief of
his came true, as we shall see.
These three brothers, each possessing a charm, were very happy. They
went on their way light-hearted. Not long afterward they came upon
a crowd of persons weeping over the dead body of a beautiful young
lady. Ambo told the parents of the young woman that he would restore
her to life if they would pay him a reasonable sum of money. As they
gladly agreed, Ambo opened his book, and the dead lady was brought
back to life. Ambo was paid all the money he asked; but as soon as he
had received his reward, Iloy placed his mat on the ground, and told
his two brothers to hold the young woman and step on the mat. They
did so, and in an instant all four were transported to the seashore.
From that place they took ship to another country; but when they were
in the middle of the sea, a severe storm came, and their boat was
wrecked. All on board would have been drowned had not Suan repaired
the broken planks with his two magical stones. When they landed, a
quarrel arose among the three brothers as to which one was entitled
to the young woman.
Ambo said, "I am the one who should have her, for it was I who restored
her to life."
"But if it had not been for me, we should not have the lady with us,"
said Iloy.
"And if it had not been for me," said Suan, "we should all be dead now,
and nobody could have her."
As they could not come to any agreement, they took the question
before the king. He decided to divide the young woman into three
parts to be distributed among the three brothers. His judgment was
carried out. When each had received his share, Iloy and Ambo were
discontented because their portions were useless, so they threw them
away; but Suan picked up the shares of his two brothers and united
them with his own. The young woman was brought to life again, and
lived happily with Suan. So, after all, Suan was the most fortunate.
Pablo and the Princess.
Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from La Laguna. She heard the
story from her father.
Once upon a time there lived three friends,--Pedro, Juan, and
Pablo. One morning they met at the junction of three roads. While
they were talking, Pedro said, "Let each of us take one of these
roads and set out to find his fortune! there is nothing for us to
do in our town." The other two agreed. After they had embraced and
wished each other good luck, they went their several ways. Before
separating, however, they promised one another to meet again in the
same plate, with the arrangement that the first who came should wait
for the others.
Pedro took the road to the right. After three months' travelling,
sometimes over mountains, sometimes through towns, he met an old
man. The old man asked him for food, for he was very hungry. Pedro
gave him some bread, for that was all he had. The old man thanked the
youth very much, and said, "In return for your kindness I will give
you this carpet. It looks like an ordinary carpet, but it has great
virtue. Whoever sits on it may be transported instantly to any place
he desires to be." Pedro received the carpet gladly and thanked the
old man. Then the old man went on his way, and Pedro wandered about
the town. At last, thinking of his two friends, he seated himself on
his carpet and was transported to the crossroads, where he sat down
to wait for Juan and Pablo.
Juan had taken the road to the left. After he had travelled for three
months and a half, he, too, met an old man. This old man asked the
youth for something to eat, as he was very hungry, he said. So Juan,
kind-heartedly, shared with him the bread he was going to eat for his
dinner. As a return for his generosity, the old man gave him a book,
and said, "This book may seem to you of no value; but when you know of
its peculiar properties, you will be astonished. By reading in it you
will be able to know everything that is happening in the world at all
times." Juan was overjoyed with his present. After thanking the old
man and bidding him good-by, the youth returned to the meeting-place
at the cross-roads, where he met Pedro. The two waited for Pablo.
Pablo took the road in the middle, and, after travelling four months,
he also met an old man, to whom he gave the bread he was going to eat
for his dinner. "As you have been very kind to me," said the old man,
"I will give you this ivory tube as a present. Perhaps you will say
that it is worthless, if you look only at the outside; but when you
know its value, you will say that the one who possesses it is master
of a great treasure. It cures all sick persons of every disease,
and, even if the patient is dying, it will restore him instantly to
perfect health if you will but blow through one end of the tube into
the sick person's nose." Pablo thanked the old man heartily for his
gift, and then set out for the meeting-place. He joined his friends
without mishap.
The three friends congratulated one another at having met again
in safety and good health. Then they told one another about their
fortunes. While Pedro was looking in Juan's book, he read that a
certain princess in a distant kingdom was very sick, and that the king
her father had given orders that any person in the world who could cure
his daughter should be her husband and his heir. When Pedro told his
companions the news, they at once decided to go to that kingdom. They
seated themselves on the carpet, and were transported in a flash to
the king's palace. After they had been led into the room of the sick
princess, Pablo took his tube and blew through one end of it into her
nose. She immediately opened her eyes, sat up, and began to talk. Then,
as she wanted to dress, the three friends retired.
While the princess was dressing, Pablo, Juan, and Pedro went before
the king, and told him how they had learned that the princess was sick,
how they had been transported there, and who had cured her. The king,
having heard all each had to say in his own favor, at last spoke thus
wisely to them:--
"It is true, Pablo, that you are the one who cured my daughter; but
let me ask you whether you could have contrived to cure her if you
had not known from Juan's book that she was sick, and if Pedro's
carpet had not brought you here without delay.--Your book, Juan,
revealed to you that my daughter was sick; but the knowledge of her
illness would have been of no service had it not been for Pedro's
carpet and Pablo's tube. And it is just the same way with your carpet,
Pedro.--So I cannot grant the princess to any one of you, since each
has had an equal share in her cure. As this is the case, I will choose
another means of deciding. Go and procure, each one of you, a bow and
an arrow. I will hang up the inflorescence of a banana-plant. This will
represent the heart of my daughter. The one who shoots it in the middle
shall be the husband of my daughter, and the heir of my kingdom."
The first to shoot was Pedro, whose arrow passed directly through the
middle of the banana-flower. He was very glad. Juan shot second. His
arrow passed through the same hole Pedro's arrow had made. Now came
Pablo's turn; but when Pablo's turn came, he refused to shoot, saying
that if the banana-flower represented the heart of the princess,
he could not shoot it, for he loved her too dearly.
When the king heard this answer, he said, "Since Pablo really loves
my daughter, while Pedro and Juan do not, for they shot at the flower
that represents her heart, Pablo shall marry the princess."
And so Pablo married the king's daughter, and in time became king of
that country.
Legend of Prince Oswaldo.
Narrated by Leopoldo Uichanco, a Tagalog from Calamba, La Laguna.
Once upon a time, on a moonlight night, three young men were walking
monotonously along a solitary country road. Just where they were
going nobody could tell: but when they came to a place where the road
branched into three, they stopped there like nails attracted by a
powerful magnet. At this crossroads a helpless old man lay groaning
as if in mortal pain. At the sight of the travellers he tried to
raise his head, but in vain. The three companions then ran to him,
helped him up, and fed him a part of the rice they had with them.
The sick old man gradually regained strength, and at last could speak
to them. He thanked them, gave each of the companions a hundred pesos,
and said, "Each one of you shall take one of these branch-roads. At
the end of it is a house where they are selling something. With
these hundred pesos that I am giving each of you, you shall buy the
first thing that you see there." The three youths accepted the money,
and promised to obey the old man's directions.
Pedro, who took the left branch, soon came to the house described
by the old man. The owner of the house was selling a rain-coat. "How
much does the coat cost?" Pedro asked the landlord.
"One hundred pesos, no more, no less."
"Of what value is it?" said Pedro.
"It will take you wherever you wish to go." So Pedro paid the price,
took the rain-coat, and returned.
Diego, who took the middle road, arrived at another house. The owner
of this house was selling a book. "How much does your book cost?" Diego
inquired of the owner.
"One hundred pesos, no more, no less."
"Of what value is it?"
"It will tell you what is going on in all parts of the world." So
Diego paid the price, took the book, and returned.
Juan, who took the third road, reached still another house. The owner
of the house was selling a bottle that contained some violet-colored
liquid. "How much does the bottle cost?" said Juan.
"One hundred pesos, no more, no less."
"Of what value is it?"
"It brings the dead back to life," was the answer. Juan paid the price,
took the bottle, and returned.
The three travellers met again in the same place where they had
separated; but the old man was now nowhere to be found. The first to
tell of his adventure was Diego. "Oh, see what I have!" he shouted
as he came in sight of his companions. "It tells everything that is
going on in the world. Let me show you!" He opened the book and read
what appeared on the page: "'The beautiful princess of Berengena is
dead. Her parents, relatives, and friends grieve at her loss.'"
"Good!" answered Juan. "Then there is an occasion for us to test
this bottle. It restores the dead back to life. Oh, but the kingdom
of Berengena is far away! The princess will be long buried before we
get there."
"Then we shall have occasion to use my rain-coat," said Pedro. "It
will take us wherever we wish to go. Let us try it! We shall receive
a big reward from the king. We shall return home with a casco full
of money. To Berengena at once!" He wrapped the rain-coat about all
three of them, and wished them in Berengena. Within a few minutes
they reached that country. The princess was already in the church,
where her parents were weeping over her. Everybody in the church wore
deep mourning.
When the three strangers boldly entered the church, the guard at the
door arrested them, for they had on red clothes. When Juan protested,
and said that the princess was not dead, the guard immediately took
him to the king; but the king, when he heard what Juan had said,
called him a fool.
"She is only sleeping," said Juan. "Let me wake her up!"
"She is dead," answered the king angrily. "On your life, don't you
dare touch her!"
"I will hold my head responsible for the truth of my statement," said
Juan. "Let me wake her up, or rather, not to offend your Majesty,
restore her to life!"
"Well, I will let you do as you please," said the king; "but if
your attempt fails, you will lose your head. On the other hand,
should you be successful, I will give you the princess for a wife,
and you shall be my heir."
Blinded by his love for the beautiful princess, Juan said that he would
restore her to life. "May you be successful!" said the king; and then,
raising his voice, he continued, "Everybody here present is to bear
witness that I, the King of Berengena, do hereby confirm an agreement
with this unknown stranger. I will allow this man to try the knowledge
he pretends to possess of restoring the princess to life. But there
is this condition to be understood: if he is successful, I will marry
him to the princess, and he is to be my heir; but should he fail,
his head is forfeit."
The announcement having been made, Juan was conducted to the coffin. He
now first realized what he was undertaking. What if the bottle was
false! What if he should fail! Would not his head be dangling from the
ropes of the scaffold, to be hailed by the multitude as the remains
of a blockhead, a dunce, and a fool? The coffin was opened. With
these meditations in his mind, Juan tremblingly uncorked his bottle
of violet liquid, and held it under the nose of the princess. He held
the bottle there for some time, but she gave no signs of life. An hour
longer, still no trace of life. After hours of waiting, the people
began to grow impatient. The king scratched his head, the guards
were ready to seize him; the scaffold was waiting for him. "Nameless
stranger!" thundered the king, with indignant eyes, "upon your honor,
tell us the truth! Can you do it, or not? Speak. I command it!"
Juan trembled all the more. He did not know what to say, but he
continued to hold the bottle under the nose of the princess. Had
he not been afraid of the consequences, he would have given up and
entreated the king for mercy. He fixed his eyes on the corpse, but
did not speak. "Are you trying to joke us?" said the king, his eyes
flashing with rage. "Speak! I command!"
Just as Juan was about to reply, he saw the right hand of the princess
move. He bade the king wait. Soon the princess moved her other hand and
opened her eyes. Her cheeks were fresh and rosy as ever. She stared
about, and exclaimed in surprise, "Oh, where am I? Where am I? Am I
dreaming? No, there is my father, there is my mother, there is my
brother." The king was fully satisfied. He embraced his daughter,
and then turned to Juan, saying, "Stranger, can't you favor us now
with your name?"
With all the rustic courtesy he knew, Juan replied to the king,
told his name, and said that he was a poor laborer in a barrio far
away. The king only smiled, and ordered Juan's clothes to be exchanged
for prince's garments, so that the celebration of his marriage with
the princess might take place at once. "Long live Juan! Long live
the princess!" the people shouted.
When Diego and Juan heard the shout, they could not help feeling
cheated. They made their way through the crowd, and said to the king,
"Great Majesty, pray hear us! In the name of justice, pray hear us!"
"Who calls?" asked the king of a guard near by. "Bring him here!" The
guard obeyed, and led the two men before the king.
"What is the matter?" asked the king of the two.
"Your Majesty shall know," responded Diego. "If it had not been for
my book, we could not have known that the princess was dead. Our home
is far away, and it was only because of my magic book that we knew
of the events that were going on here."
"And his Majesty shall be informed," seconded Pedro, "that Juan's
good luck is due to my rain-coat. Neither Diego's book nor Juan's
bottle could have done anything had not my raincoat carried us here
so quickly. I am the one who should marry the princess."
The king was overwhelmed: he did not know what to do. Each of the three
had a good reason, but all three could not marry the princess. Even
the counsellors of the king could not decide upon the matter.
While they were puzzling over it, an old man sprang forth from
the crowd of spectators, and declared that he would settle the
difficulty. "Young men," he said, addressing Juan, Pedro, and Diego,
"none of you shall marry the princess.--You, Juan, shall not marry
her, because you intended to obtain your fortunes regardless of
your companions who have been helping you to get them.--And you,
Pedro and Diego, shall not have the princess, because you did not
accept your misfortune quietly and thank God for it.--None of you
shall have her. I will marry her myself."
The princess wept. How could the fairest maiden of Berengena marry
an old man! "What right have you to claim her?" said the king in scorn.
"I am the one who showed these three companions where to get their
bottle, rain-coat, and book," said the old man. "I am the one who
gave each of them a hundred pesos. I am the capitalist: the interest
is mine." The old man was right; the crowd clapped their hands; and
the princess could do nothing but yield. Bitterly weeping, she gave
her hand to the old man, who seemed to be her grandfather, and they
were married by the priest. The king almost fainted.
But just now the sun began to rise, its soft beams filtering through
the eastern windows of the church. The newly-married couple were
led from the altar to be taken home to the palace; but, just as
they were descending the steps that lead down from the altar, the
whole church was flooded with light. All present were stupefied. The
glorious illumination did not last long. When the people recovered,
they found that their princess was walking with her husband, not an
old man, however, but a gallant young prince. The king recognized
him. He kissed him, for they were old-time acquaintances. The king's
new son-in-law was none other than Prince Oswaldo, who had just been
set free from the bonds of enchantment by his marriage. He had been
a former suitor of the princess, but had been enchanted by a magician.
With magnificent ceremony the king's son-in-law was conducted to
the royal residence. He was seated on the throne, the crown and
sceptre were transferred to him, and he was hailed as King Oswaldo
of Berengena.
Notes.
I have still a fifth Filipino story (e) of three brothers setting out
to seek their fortunes, their rich father promising his estate to the
son who should show most skill in the profession he had chosen. This
Bicol version, which was narrated by Simeon Paz of Nueva Caceres,
Camarines, contains a long introduction telling how the youngest
brother was cruelly treated by the two older. After the three have
left home in search of professions, the older brothers try to kill
the youngest, but he escapes. In his wanderings he meets with an old
hermit, who, on hearing the boy's story, presents him with a magic
booklet and dagger. These articles can furnish their possessor with
whatever he wishes. At the appointed time the three brothers meet again
at home, and each demonstrates his skill. The oldest, who has become
an expert blacksmith, shoes a horse running at full speed. The second
brother, a barber, trims the hair of a running man. The youngest causes
a beautiful palace to appear instantly. The father, somewhat unfairly,
perhaps, bestows his estate on the youngest, who has really displayed
no skill at all.
These five Filipino stories belong to a large group of tales to which
we may give the name of the "Rival Brothers." This cycle assumes
various forms; but the two things that identify the relationship
of the members are the rivalry of the brothers and the conundrum or
"problem" ending of the stories. Within this cycle we can distinguish
at least three simple, distinct types, and a compound fourth made up
of parts of two of the others. These four types may be very generally
outlined as follows: (I) A number of artisans (usually not brothers),
by working cumulatively, as it were, make and bring to life a beautiful
woman; they then quarrel as to which one has really produced her and
is therefore entitled to have her. (II) Through the combined skill of
three suitors (sometimes brothers, oftener not), a maiden is saved
from death, and the three quarrel over the possession of her. The
difficulty is solved satisfactorily by her father or by some one
else appointed to judge. (III) A father promises his wealth to the
son that shall become most skilful in his profession; the three sons
seek their fortunes, and at an appointed time return, and are tested
by their father. He judges which is most worthy of the estate. (IV)
A combination of the first part of the third type with the second.
Benfey (in Ausland, 1858 : 969, 995, 1017, 1038, 1067) has made
a somewhat exhaustive study of the Märchen, which he calls "Das
Märchen von den Menschen mit den wunderbaren Eigenschaften." As a
matter of fact, he examines particularly the stories of our type
II (see above), to which he connects the folk-tales of our types
III and IV as a later popular development. As has been said in the
notes to No. 11 Benfey thinks that the "Skilful Companions" cycle
is a droll or comic offshoot of this much older group. Our type I he
does not discuss at all, possibly thinking that it is not a part of
the "Rival Brothers" cycle. It strikes me, however, as being a part
fully as much as is the "Skilful Companions" cycle, which is perhaps
more nearly related to the "Bride Wager" group than to the "Rival
Brothers." Professor G. L. Kittredge, in his "Arthur and Gorlagon"
(Harvard Studies and Notes in Philology and Literature, No. 8),
226, has likewise failed to differentiate clearly the two cycles,
and his outline of the "Skilful Companions" is that of our type
II of the "Rival Brothers." I am far from wishing to quarrel over
nomenclature,--possibly "Rival Brothers" is no better name for the
group of tales under discussion than is "Skilful Companions,"--but,
as G. H. Gerould has remarked ("The Grateful Dead," Folk-Lore Society,
1907 : 126, note 3), Kittredge's analysis would not hold for all
variants, even when uncompounded. However, Mr. Gerould does not
attempt to explain the cause of the confusion, nor was he called upon
to do so in his study of an entirely distinct cycle. Consequently,
as no one else has yet done so, for the sake of clearness, I propose
a division of the large family of sagas and folk-tales dealing with
men endowed with extraordinary powers [46] into at least two cycles,
--the "Rival Brothers" and the "Skilful Companions" (see No. 11). The
former of these, which is the group discussed here, I subdivide,
as has already been indicated, into four types. Of intermixtures of
these types with other cycles we shall not concern ourselves here,
though they have been many. [47] We now turn to an examination of
the four types. [48]
(I) Type I had its origin in India, doubtless. The oldest form seems to
be that found in the Sanscrit "Vetâlapancavinçati," No. 22, whence it
was incorporated into Somadeva's story collection (twelfth century)
called the "Kathásaritságara." An outline of this last version
(Tawney's translation, 2 : 348-350) is as follows.
Story of the Four Brahman Brothers who Resuscitated the Lion.
Four Bráhman brothers, sons of a very poor man, leave home to
beg. After their state has become even more miserable, they decide
to separate and to search through the earth for some magic power. So,
fixing upon a trysting-place, they leave one another, one going east,
one west, one north, one south. In the course of time they meet again,
and each tells of his accomplishments: the first can immediately
produce on a bit of bone the flesh of that animal; the second can
produce on that flesh skin and hair appropriate to that animal; the
third can create the limbs of the animal after the flesh, skin, and
hair have been formed; the fourth can endow the completed carcass with
life. The four now go into the forest to find a piece of bone with
which to test their skill; they find one, but are ignorant that it
is the bone of a lion. The first Brahman covers the bone with flesh;
the second gives it skin and hair; the third completes the animal
by supplying appropriate limbs; the fourth endows it with life. The
terrible beast, springing up, charges the four brothers and slays
them on the spot.
The question which the vetála now asks the king is, "Which of these
four was guilty in respect of the lion who slew them all?" King
Vikramasena answers, "The one that gave life to the lion is guilty. The
others produced flesh, skin, hair, and limbs without knowing what kind
of animal they were making. Therefore, being ignorant, they were not
guilty. But the fourth, seeing the complete lion's shape before him,
was guilty of their death, because he gave the creature life."
The "Pancatantra" version (v, 4) varies slightly. Here, as in the
preceding, there are four brothers, but only three of them possess
all knowledge; the fourth possesses common sense. The first brother
joins together the bones of a lion; the second covers them with
skin, flesh, and blood; the third is about to give the animal life,
when the fourth brother--he who possessed common sense--says, "If
you raise him to life, he will kill us all." Finding that the third
brother will not desist from his intention, the fourth climbs a tree
and saves himself, while his three brothers are torn to pieces. For
a modern Indian popular form, see Thornhill, 289.
In the Persian "Tûtî-nâmah" (No. 5) the story assumes a decidedly
different form, as may be seen from the following abstract. (I think
that there can be no doubt, however, that this tale was inspired
by some redaction of "Vetâlapancavinçati," No. 22, not unlikely in
combination with "Vetâlapancavinçati," No. 2.)
The Goldsmith, the Carpenter, the Tailor, and the Hermit who Quarrelled
about a Wooden Woman.
A goldsmith, a carpenter, a tailor, and a hermit, travelling together,
come to a desert place where they must spend the night. They decide
that each shall take a watch during the night as guard. The carpenter's
turn is first: to prevent sleep he carves out a wooden figure. When
his turn comes, the goldsmith shows his skill by preparing jewels and
adorning the puppet. The tailor's turn is next: he sees the beautiful
wooden woman decked with exquisite jewels, but naked; consequently
he makes neat clothes becoming a bride, and dresses her. When the
hermit's turn to watch comes, he prays to God that the figure may
have life; and it begins to speak like a human being.
In the morning all four fall desperately in love with the woman,
and each claims her as his. Finally they come to a fifth person,
and refer the matter to him. He claims her to be his wife, who has
been seduced from his house, and hails the four travellers before the
cutwal. But the cutwal falls in love with the woman, says that she
is his brother's wife, accuses the five of his brother's murder, and
carries them before the cazi. The cazi, no less enamoured, says that
the woman is his bondmaid, who had absconded with much money. After
the seven have disputed and wrangled a long time, an old man in the
crowd that has meantime gathered suggests that the case be laid before
the Tree of Decision, which can be found in a certain town. When they
have all come before the tree with the woman, the tree divides, the
woman runs into the cleft, the tree unites, and she has disappeared
forever. A voice from the tree then says, "Everything returns to its
first principles." The seven suitors are overwhelmed with shame.
A Mongolian form, to be found in the Ardschi-Bordschi saga (see
Busk, 298-304), seems to furnish the link of connection between the
"Tûtî-nâmah" version and "Vetâlapancavinçati," Nos. 22 and 2:--
Who Invented Woman?
Four shepherd youths pasture their flocks near one another, and when
they have time amuse themselves together. One day one of them there
alone, to pass away the time, takes wood and sculptures it until he
has fashioned a beautiful female form. When he sees what he has done,
he cares no more for his companions, but goes his way. The next day
the second youth comes alone to the place, and, finding the image, he
paints it fair with the five colors, and goes his way. On the third
day the third youth finds the statue, and infuses into it wit and
understanding. He, too, cares no more to sport with his companions,
and goes his way. On the fourth day the fourth youth finds the figure,
and, breathing softly into its lips, behold! he gives it a soul that
can be loved,--a beautiful woman.
When the other three see what has happened, they come back and demand
possession of her by right of invention. Each urges his claim; but
they can come to no decision, and so they lay the matter before the
king. The question is, Who has invented the woman, and to whom does
she belong by right? The answer of the king is as follows: "The first
youth stands in the place of a father to her; the second youth, who
has tinted her fairly, stands in the place of a mother; the third,
is he not Lama (Buddhist priest, hence instructor)? The fourth has
given her a soul that can be loved, and it is he alone who has really
made her. She belongs to him, and therefore he is her husband."
I cannot refrain from giving a résumé of "Vetâlapancavinçati,"
No. 2, because it has been overlooked by Benfey, and seems to be of
no little significance in connection with our cycle: it establishes
the connection between types I and II. This abstract is taken from
Tawney's translation of Somadeva's redaction, 2 : 242-244:--
Story of the Three Young Brahmans who Restored a Dead Lady to Life.
Bráhman Agnisvámin has a beautiful daughter, Mandáravatí. Three young
Bráhmans, equally matched in accomplishments, come to Agnisvámin, and
demand the daughter, each for himself. Her father refuses, fearing to
cause the death of any one of them. Mandáravatí remains unmarried. The
three suitors stay at her house day and night, living on the sight of
her. Then Mandáravatí suddenly dies of a fever. The three Bráhmans
take her body to the cemetery and burn it. One builds a hut there,
and makes her ashes his bed; the second takes her bones, and goes
with them to the sacred river Ganges; the third becomes an ascetic,
and sets out travelling.
While roaming about, the third suitor reaches a village, where he is
entertained by a Bráhman. From him the ascetic steals a magic book
that will restore life to dead ashes. (He has seen its power proved
after his hostess, in a fit of anger, throws her crying child into
the fire.) With his magic book he returns to the cemetery before the
second suitor has thrown the maiden's bones into the river. After
having the first Bráhman remove the hut he had erected, the ascetic,
reading the charm and throwing some dust on the ashes of Mandáravatí,
causes the maiden to rise up alive, more beautiful than ever. Then
the three quarrel about her, each claiming her as his own. The first
says, "She is mine, for I preserved her ashes and resuscitated her
by asceticism." The second says, "She belongs to me, for she was
produced by the efficacy of sacred bathing-places." The third says,
"She is my wife, for she was won by the power of my charm."
The vetâla, who has been telling the story, now puts the question to
King Vikramasena. The king rules as follows: "The third Bráhman must
be considered as her father; the second, as her son; and the first,
as her husband, for he lay in the cemetery embracing her ashes,
which was an act of deep affection."
A modern link is the Georgian folk-tale of "The King and the Apple"
(Wardrop, No. XVI), in which the king's magic apple tells three
riddle-stories to the wonderful boy:--
(1) A woman is travelling with her husband and brother. The party
meets brigands, and the two men are decapitated. Their heads are
restored to them by the woman through the help of a magic herb
revealed to her by a mouse. However, she gets her husband's head on
her brother's body. Q.--Which man is the right husband? A.--The one
with the husband's head.
(2) A joiner, a tailor, and a priest are travelling. When night comes,
they appoint three watches. The joiner, for amusement, cuts down a
tree and carves out a man. The tailor, in his turn, takes off his
clothes and dresses the figure. The priest, when his turn comes,
prays for a soul for the image, and the figure becomes alive. Q.-Who
made the man? A.--He who gave him the soul.
(3) A diviner, a physician, and a swift runner are met together. The
diviner says, "There is a certain prince ill with such and such
a disease." The physician says, "I know a cure." The swift runner
says, "I will run with it." The physician prepares the medicine,
the runner runs with it, and the prince is cured. Q.--Who cured the
king's son? A.--He who made the medicine.
These three stories, with their framework, appear to be descended in
part from the Ardschi-Bordschi saga. A connection between the third
and our type II is obvious.
A Bohemian form of this type is No. 4 of Wratislaw's collection.
(II) Type II, according to Benfey, also originated in India. The
oldest known form of the story is the "Vetâlapancavinçati," No. 5. A
brief summary of Somadeva's version, "The Story of Somaprabhá and
her Three Suitors" (Tawney, 2 : 258-260), may be given here:--
In Ujjayiní there lived a Bráhman who had an excellent son and a
beautiful proud daughter. When the time for her to be married came,
she told her mother to give the following message to her father and
her brother: "I am to be given in marriage only to a person possessed
of heroism, knowledge, or magic power."
A noble Brahman (No. 1) in time came to the father and asked for
his daughter's hand. When told of the conditions, he said, "I am
possessed of magic power," and to demonstrate, he made a chariot and
took the father for a ride in the clouds. Then Harisvámin, the father,
promised his daughter to the Bráhman possessed of magic power, and
set the marriage day seven days hence.
Another Bráhman (No. 2) came and asked the son for his sister's
hand. When told the conditions, he said that he was a hero, and he
displayed his skill in the use of weapons. The brother, ignorant of
what his father had done, promised his sister's hand to this man,
and by the advice of an astrologer he selected the same day for the
wedding as his father had selected.
A third Bráhman (No. 3) on that same day asked the mother for her
daughter's hand, saying that he was possessed of wisdom. Ignorant of
what her husband and her son had done, she questioned this Bráhman
about the past and the future, and at length promised him her
daughter's hand on the same seventh day.
On the same day, then, three bridegrooms appeared, and, strange to say,
on that very day the bride disappeared. No. 3, with his knowledge,
discovered that she had been carried off by a Rákshasa. No. 1 made a
chariot equipped with weapons, and the three suitors and Harisvámin
were carried to the Rákshasa's abode. There No. 2 fought and killed the
demon, and all returned with the maiden. A dispute then arose among
the Bráhmans as to which was entitled to the maiden's hand. Each set
forth his claim.
The vetâla, who has been telling the story, now makes King Vikramasena
decide which deserves the girl. The king says that the girl ought to
be given to No. 2, who risked his life in battle to save her. Nos. 1
and 3 were only instruments; calculators and artificers are always
subordinate to others.
The story next passed over into Mongolia, growing by the way. The
version in the "Siddhi-Kür," No. 13, is interesting, because it
shows our story already linked up with another cycle, the "True
Brothers." Only the last part, which begins approximately where
the companions miss the rich youth, corresponds to the Sanscrit
above. (This Mongolian version may be found in English in Busk,
105-114.) The story then moved westward, and we next meet it
in the Persian and the Turkish "Tûtî-nâmah," "The Story of the
Beautiful Zehra." (For an English rendering from the Persian, see
"The Tootinameh; or, Tales of a Parrot," Persian text with English
translation [Calcutta, 1792], pp. 111-114.)
W. A. Clouston (Clouston 3, 2 : 277-288) has discussed this group of
stories, and gives abstracts of a number of variants that Benfey does
not mention: Dozon, "Albanian Tales," No. 4; a Persian manuscript text
of the "Sindibád Náma;" a Japanese legend known as early as the tenth
century; the "1001 Nights" story of "Prince Ahmed and the Peri Bánú;"
Powell and Magnussen's "Icelandic Legends," pp. 348-354, "The Story
of the Three Princes;" Von Hahn, "Contes Populaires Grecs" (Athens
and Copenhagen, 1879), No. II, p. 98. Of these he says (p. 285),
"We have probably the original of all these different versions in the
fifth of the 'Vetálapanchavinsati,'"--but hardly from No. 5 alone,
probably in combination with Nos. 2 and 22 (cf. above). At least,
the Arabian, Icelandic, and Greek forms cited by Clouston include
the search for trades or magic objects by rival brothers, a detail
not found in No. 5, but occurring in Nos. 22 and 2. Clouston calls
attention to the fact that in No. 5 and in the "Tûtî-nâmah" version the
damsel is not represented as being ill, while in the "Sindibád-Námá"
and in the Arabian version she is so represented.
(III) The third type seems to be of European origin. It is perhaps
best represented by Grimm, No. 124, "The Three Brothers." In his
notes, Grimm calls this story an old lying and jesting tale, and says
that it is apparently very widespread. He cites few analogues of it,
however. He does mention an old one (sixteenth century) which seems
to be the parent of the German story. It is Philippe d'Alcripe's
"Trois frères, excellens ouvriers de leurs mestiers" (No. 1 in the
1853 Paris edition, Biblioth. Elzevirien). As in Grimm, the three
skilled brothers in the French tale are a barber, a horse-shoer, and
a swordsman; and the performances of skill are identical in the two
stories. The French version, however, ends with the display of skill:
no decision is made as to which is entitled to receive the "petite
maison," the property that the father wishes to leave to the son who
proves himself to be the best craftsman. Our fifth story, the Bicol
variant, clearly belongs to this type, although it has undergone some
modifications, and has been influenced by contact with other cycles.
(IV) The fourth type represents the form to which our four printed
stories most closely approximate. As remarked above, it is a
combination of the third and the second types. This combination
appears to have been developed in Europe, although, as may be seen
from the analysis of "Vetâlapancavincati," No. 2, it might easily have
been suggested by the Sanscrit. Compare also the "Siddhi-Kür" form
of type II, where, although not brothers, and six in number instead
of three, the six comrades set out to seek their fortunes. But here
there is no suggestion of the six acquiring skill: they have that
before they separate.
The earliest known European version of this type is Morlini's, Nov. 30
(about 1520). His Latin was translated by Straparola (about 1553)
in the "Tredici piacevoli Notti," VII, 5. In outline his version runs
about as follows:--
Three brothers, sons of a poor man, voluntarily leave home to seek
their fortunes, promising to return in ten years. After determining on
a meeting-place, they separate. The first takes service with soldiers,
and becomes expert in the art of war: he can scale walls, dagger in
hand. The second becomes a master shipwright. The third spends his
time in the woods, and becomes skilled in the tongues of birds. After
ten years they meet again, as appointed. While they are sitting in
an inn, the youngest hears a bird say that there is a great treasure
hidden by the corner-stone of the inn. This they dig up, and return
as wealthy men to their father's house.
Another bird announces the imprisonment of the beautiful Aglea in a
tower on an island in the Ægean Sea. She is guarded by a serpent. The
second brother builds a swift ship, in which all three sail to the
island. There the first brother climbs the tower, rescues Aglea, and
plunders all the serpent's treasure. With the wealth and the lady
the three return. A dispute now arises as to which brother has the
best claim over her. The matter is left undecided by the story-teller.
At the beginning of the seventeenth century, Basile, working very
likely on oral tradition, and independent of Straparola (with whose
work he does not appear to have been acquainted), gives another
version, "Pentamerone," v, 7:--
Pacione, a poor father, sends his five good-for-nothing sons out into
the world for one year to learn a craft. They return at the appointed
time. During the year the eldest son has learned thieving; the second
has learned boat-building; the third, how to shoot with the cross-bow;
the fourth has learned of an herb that will cause the dead to rise;
the fifth has learned the language of birds. While the five sons are
eating with their father, the youngest son hears sparrows saying that a
ghoul has stolen the princess, daughter of the King of Autogolfo. The
father suggests that his five sons go to her rescue. So a boat is
built, the princess is stolen from the ghoul, the ghoul pursues and
is blinded by a shot from the bow, the princess falls in a dead faint
and is restored by the life-giving herb. After the five brothers have
returned the princess to her father, they dispute as to who did the
greatest deed of prowess, so as to be worthy of being her husband. Her
father the king decides the dispute by giving his daughter to Pacione,
because he is the parent-stem of all these branches.
Benfey thinks that the brother who knows of the life-restoring herb
is an original addition of Basile's or of his immediate source; but
this character is to be found in the cycle from earliest times (see
"Vetâlapancavinçati," No. 2; and "Siddhi-Kür," No. 13).
The story is next found as a Märchen pretty well scattered throughout
Europe. German, Russian, Bohemian, Italian, Greek, and Serbian forms
are known (see Benfey's article, and Grimm's notes to No. 129). We
may examine briefly six interesting versions not mentioned by Benfey
or Grimm:--
Greek (Von Hahn, No. 47).--A king with three sons wishes to marry
off the eldest. He seeks a suitable wife for the prince; but when
she is found and brought to the court, she is so beautiful, that all
three brothers want her. To decide their dispute, the king, on advice,
sends them abroad, promising the hand of the princess to the one who
shall bring back the most valuable article. The three brothers set
out; they separate at Adrianople, agreeing to meet there again at an
appointed time. On his travels, the eldest buys a telescope through
which he can see anything he wishes to see. The second buys an orange
that will restore to life the dying if the sick person but smells
of the fruit. The third buys a magic transportation-carpet. They all
meet as agreed. By means of the telescope one of the brothers learns
that the princess is dying. The magic carpet carries them all home
instantaneously, and the orange cures the maiden. A quarrel arises
as to which brother deserves her hand. The king, unable to decide,
marries her himself.
Bohemian (Waldau [Prag, 1860], "Das Weise Urteil").--In this there are
three rival brothers. One has a magic mirror; another, a magic chariot;
and the third, three magic apples. The first finds out that the lady
is desperately ill; the second takes himself and his rivals to her;
and the third restores her to health. A dispute arising, an old man
decides that the third brother should have her, as his apples were
consumed as medicine, while the other two still have their chariot and
mirror respectively. (Compare the decision in the Georgian folk-tale
under type II.)
Serbian (Mme. Mijatovies, 230 ff., "The Three Suitors").--Three
noblemen seek the hand of a princess. As the king cannot make a
choice, he says to the three, "Go travel about the world. The one who
brings home the most remarkable thing shall be my son-in-law." As in
the Greek story, one gets a transportation-carpet; another, a magic
telescope; and the third, a wonder-working ointment that will cure all
diseases and even bring the dead to life. The three noblemen meet,
learn through the telescope of the princess's mortal illness, and,
hastening to her side with the help of the magic carpet, cure her
with the ointment. A dispute arises as to which suitor shall have
her. The king decides that each has as good a claim as the others,
and persuades all to give up the idea of marrying the princess. They
do so, go to a far-off desert, and become hermits, while the king
marries his daughter to another noble. The story does not end here,
but thus much is all we are interested in.
Italian Tyrolese (Schneller, No. 14, "Die Drei Liebhaber").--This story
is like Von Hahn, No. 47. The magic objects are an apple, a chair,
and a mirror. In the magic mirror the three suitors see the bride
on the point of death. They are carried to her in the magic chair,
and she is saved by means of the apple. The story ends as a riddle:
Who married the maiden?
Icelandic (Rittershaus, No. XLIII, "Die drei Freier um eine
Braut").--This story, which closely follows the "1001 Nights" version
and is probably derived from it, agrees in the first part with Von
Hahn, No. 47. When a folk-tribunal is called to decide which brother
most deserves the princess and is unable to agree, the king proposes
another test,--a shooting-match. The princess is to be given to the one
who can shoot his arrow the farthest. The youngest really wins; but, as
his arrow goes out of sight and cannot be found, the princess is given
to the second brother. From this point on, the adventures of the hero
are derived from another cycle that does not belong with our group.