Copetetaric (?) caput L
Armada armada S
Errespuesta respuesta S
Dardac dard F
Colorezco color S
Banderac bandera S
Simistac / quimista S
| chimiste F
\ both from Arabic
Tropac tropa S
Arroca roca S
Escapa escapar S
Carlomano Karlomann G
Errolan Roland F
Erreghe rex, rege L
Luma [201] (?) pluma S
Fite vite F
Capa capa S
Condatcea contar S
Milaca / mille L
\ mil S
Demboraren tempus tempora L
Norteco norte S
Pasatcea pasar S
Contra contra L
Lantzazco lanza S
Akhabo acabar S
Besarcatcera besar S
Eternitatean eternidad S
With reference to the above list we may observe that the Basque never
begins a word with r, but always prefixes a euphonic er, ar, ir;
hence er-respuesta, ar-roca, Er-rolan, er-rege, hir-risko, risque,
F. In later copies editors have altered "Romaco," in the "Song of
Lelo," into "Er-romaco," to give it more of a Basque look. Aren,
or aen, eco-aco-co are case terminations; tcea-cea marks the verbal
noun. Carlomann was never the name of Charlemagne, but of his
brother and his uncle. Er-rolan is evidently from the French Roland;
neither from the Hruotlandus of Einhardus, nor from the Spanish
Roldan. Defenders of the authenticity of the piece allege that these
words are only corruptions, introduced in the course of ages; but
our readers can judge for themselves how far they enter into the very
structure of the composition.
The first book printed in Basque, the "Linguæ Vasconum Primitiæ,
per Dominum Bernardum Echepare" (Bordeaux, 1545), is a collection of
his poems, religious and amatory, the latter predominating. Echepare
was the parish priest of the pretty little village of St. Michel, on
the Béhérobie Nive, above St. Jean Pied de Port; and, if Nature alone
could inspire a poet, he ought at least to have rivalled those of our
own English Lakes. But, in truth, his verses are of scant poetical
merit, and of little interest save as a philological curiosity. [202]
They belong so distinctly to that irritating mediocrity which never
can be excused in a poet. After Echepare the next author is Arnauld
Oyhenart, of Mauléon, who published a collection of his youthful
Basque poems in Paris, 1657. These have, if anything, less poetical
value than Echepare's; but Oyhenart's collection of proverbs and his
"Notitia Utriusque Vasconiæ" will always make his name stand high
among Basque writers. Except hymns and noëls (Christmas carols),
of which many collections and editions have been published from 1630
downwards, and some of which are noteworthy on account of higher than
mere poetical merit, the deep and evidently genuine spirit of piety
they evince, [203] little else is preserved much older than the present
century. One ballad indeed there is, "The Betrothed of Tardetz," which
may be somewhat older. No two versions of it are exactly alike, though
the outline of the story is always the same. The Lord of the Castle of
Tardetz wishes to give the elder of his two daughters in marriage to
the King of Hungary, or of Portugal, as some have it. But the lady's
heart has been already won by Sala, the son of the miller of Tardetz,
and she bitterly bewails being "sold like a heifer." The bells which
ring for her wedding will soon toll for her funeral. The romance in
its present form is evidently incomplete, but apparently ended with
the corpse of the bride being brought back to her father's castle.
Most of the Basque songs, except the drinking ones, are set, more or
less, in a minor key. The majority of the love songs would have been
described by our forefathers as "complaints." One of the prettiest,
both in words and music, is the fragment entitled "The Hermitage of
St. Joseph":--
1. 1.
Chorittua, nurat hua Little bird, where goest thou
Bi hegalez airian? On thy two wings in the air?
Españalat juaiteko To Spain to go,
Elhürra dük borthian: The snow is on the passes:
Juanen gütük alkharreki We will go together
Hura hurtü denian. When the snow is melted.
2. 2.
San-Josefan ermita The Hermitage of Saint Joseph
Desertian gora da; Is high in the desert
Españalat juaitian. In going to Spain.
Han da ene phausada; There is my resting-place,
Guibelilat so' gin eta There have I looked behind, and
Hasperena ardüra! The sigh is frequent.
3. 3.
Hasperena, habilua Sigh, go
Maitenaren borthala: To the door of my beloved.
Habil, eta erran izok Go, and tell her
Nik igorten haidala; It is I who send you:
Bihotzian sar hakio Enter into her heart,
Hura eni bezala. As she (is) in mine. [204]
The songs of the Agots, or Cagots, those Pariahs of the Pyrénées,
who dwelt apart shunned and despised by all, are, as might be
expected, uniformly sad. The misery of the labourer's lot, and even
of that of the contrabandista, is more frequently dwelt upon than the
compensations to the poverty of the one, or the transient gleams of
good fortune of the other. At least, such is the case in all those
which are really songs of the people. In these there are not many
delights of "life under the greenwood tree," as in Robin Hood, or our
factitious gipsies' songs. The forest is an object of dread to the
Basque poet, and it requires courage and all the powerful attraction
of a loved one to induce him to traverse by night its gloomy shades;
but then--
Mortu, oihan illuna Deserts and forests dark
Deusere ez da neretzat. They are then nought to me.
The following is an illustration of the Cagots' or Agots' songs. This
piece, of which the author was the hero, was written about 1783,
when he was eighteen years old. Cf. Fr. Michel, "Les Races Maudites
de France et de l'Espagne," vol. ii. p. 150, and "Le Pays Basque,"
p. 270; and, for the music, Sallaberry, "Chants Populaires du Pays
Basque," p. 172. [205]
1.
--Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,
Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;
Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako errada
Nigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?
2.
--Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,
Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,
Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,
Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.
3.
--Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?
Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?
Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügüla
Lürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?
4.
--Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait' ametara,
Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;
Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehia
Eta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.
5.
--Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;
Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:
Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüria
Enündüzün ausartüren begila so' gitera.
6.
--Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:
Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.
Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:
Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?
7.
--So' izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:
Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;
Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestia
Biribil et' orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.
8.
--Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,
Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.
Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,
Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.
9.
--Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begia
Lürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.
Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,
Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.
1.
Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,
Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.
Where have you left the sheep? Whence is it
I see your beautiful eye full of tears?
2.
Unknown to my father I have come towards you,
Heart-broken, to tell you yourself
That he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,
Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.
3.
Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?
That you are come to bid farewell for ever?
Do you not remember that we have given our word
To love each other as long as we live upon the earth?
4.
Yesterday some one came to my father and mother
To warn them that we loved each other;
That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,
And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots' caste.
5.
That there are Agots I have heard tell;
You tell me, too, that I am of them!
If I had ever had only the shadow of them,
I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.
6.
Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;
Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.
Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:
In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?
7.
It is by this one recognises who is an Agot--
One gives the first glance at his ear;
He has one too large, and, as for the other,
It is round and covered all over with hair. [206]
8.
If that is so, you are not of those folk;
For your ears resemble each other perfectly.
If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,
I will tell my father you have the two alike.
9.
The Agot walks with his head low, and his eye
Is fixed on the earth like a criminal.
If I had been rich, like you,
Your father would not have said that I was Agot.
There are, too, verses of grim and bitter humour, which tell better
than the pen of the historian how wretched was formerly the lot
of the peasant, even in this favoured corner of France. Famine is
personified, and has a name given it, drawn in biting irony from
that of the highest Saint of the Church Calendar, Petiri Sanz
(S. Peter). He wanders round the country seeking where to settle
permanently; at one place he is driven off by (the sale of) rosin,
at another little maize, at another by cheese and cherries; but at
last he fixes his abode definitively at St. Pée (another form of
Peter), on the Nivelle, where they have nothing at all to sell, and
where he torments the inhabitants by forcing them to keep many a fast
beyond those of ecclesiastical obligation. The same strain of gloomy
humour appears in another form in a poem entitled "Mes Méditations,"
[207] in which a young priest of Ciboure, slowly dying of consumption,
traces in detail all the physical and mental agonies of his approaching
dissolution. A much less grim example, however, is contained in the
following, which we quote mainly because of its brevity. It may remind
some of our readers of a longer but similar strain which used often
to be sung at harvest-homes in the Midland Counties:--