Up in the morning the jailor raise,
As soon’s ’twas light that he coud see;
Wi a pint o wine and a mess sae fine,
Into the prison-house went he.
18
When he came to the prison-door,
A dreary sight he had to see;
The locks were shot, the doors were broke,
And a’ the prisoners won free.
19
‘Ye’ll gae and waken Annan town,
Raise up five hundred men and three;
And if these rascals may be found,
I vow like dogs I’ll gar them die.
20
‘O dinna ye hear proud Annan roar,
Mair loud than ever roard the sea?
We’ll get the rascals on this side,
Sure they can neither fecht nor flee.
21
‘Some gar ride, and some gar rin,
Wi a’ the haste that ye can make;
We’ll get them in some tavern-house,
For Annan water they winna take.’
22
As Little Dick was looking round,
All for to see what he could see,
Saw the proud sheriff trip the plain,
Five hundred men his companie.
23
‘O fare ye well, my bonny wife,
Likewise farewell, my children three!
Fare ye well, ye lands o Cafield!
For you again I neer will see.
24
‘For well I kent, ere I came here,
That Annan water woud ruin me;
My horse is young, he’ll nae lat ride,
And in this water I maun die.’
25
Out it speaks him Johnny Ha,
I wat a gude fellow was he:
‘O plague upo your cowardly face!
The bluntest man I eer did see.
26
‘Gie me your horse, take ye my mare,
The devil drown my mare and thee!
Gie me the prisoner on behind,
And nane will die but he that’s fay.’
27
He quickly lap upo the horse,
And strait the stirrups siccarlie,
And jumpd upo the other side,
Wi the prisoner and his irons tee.
28
The sheriff then came to the bank,
And heard its roaring like the sea;
Says, How these men they hae got ower,
It is a marvel unto me.
29
‘I wadna venture after them,
For a’ the criminals that I see;
Nevertheless now, Johnny Ha,
Throw ower the fetters unto me.’
30
‘Deil part you and the fetters,’ he said,
‘As lang as my mare needs a shee;
If she gang barefoot ere they be done,
I wish an ill death mat ye die.’
31
‘Awa, awa, now Johnny Ha,
Your talk to me seems very snell;
Your mither’s been some wild rank witch,
And you yoursell an imp o hell.’
D
Motherwell’s MS., p. 467, “received in MS. by Buchan from Mr Nicol,
of Strichen, who wrote as he had learned early in life from old
people:” Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 335.
1
‘Seven years have I loved my love,
And seven years my love’s loved me,
But now to-morrow is the day
That billy Archie, my love, must die.’
2
O then out spoke him Little Dickie,
And still the best fellow was he:
‘Had I but five men and my self,
Then we would borrow billy Archie.’
3
Out it spoke him Caff o Lin,
And still the worst fellow was he:
‘You shall have five men and yourself,
And I will bear you companye.’
4
‘We will not go like to dragoons,
Nor yet will we like grenadiers,
But we will go like corn-dealers,
And lay our brechams on our meares.
5
‘And twa of us will watch the road,
And other twa will go between,
And I will go to jail-house door,
And hold the prisoner unthought lang.’
6
‘Who is this at jail-house door,
So well as they do know the gin?’
‘It’s I myself,’ [said] him Little Dickie,
‘And oh sae fain ’s I would be in!’
7
‘Away, away, now, Little Dickie!
Away, let all your folly be!
If the Lord Lieutenant come on you,
Like unto dogs he’ll cause you die.’
8
‘Hold you, hold you, billy Archie,
And now let all your folly be!
Tho I die without, you’ll not die within,
For borrowed shall your body be.’
9
‘Away, away, now, Little Dickie!
Away, let all this folly be!
An hundred pounds of Spanish irons
Is all bound on my fair bodie.’
10
Wi plough-culters and gavellocks
They made the jail-house door to flee;
‘And in God’s name,’ said Little Dickie,
‘Cast you the prisoner behind me!’
11
They had not rode a great way off,
With all the haste that ever could be,
Till they espied the Lord Lieutenant,
With a hundred men in’s companie.
12
But when they came to wan water,
It now was rumbling like the sea;
Then were they got into a strait,
As great a strait as well could be.
13
Then out did speak him Caff o Lin,
And aye the warst fellow was he:
‘Now God be with my wife and bairns!
For fatherless my babes will be.
14
‘My horse is young, he cannot swim;
The water’s deep, and will not wade;
My children must be fatherless,
My wife a widow, whateer betide.’
15
O then cried out him Little Dickie,
And still the best fellow was he:
‘Take you my mare, I’ll take your horse,
And Devil drown my mare and thee!’
16
Now they have taken the wan water,
Tho it was roaring like the sea,
And whan they got to the other side,
I wot they bragged right crouselie.
17
‘Come thro, come thro now, Lord Lieutenant!
O do come thro, I pray of thee!
There is an alehouse not far off,
We’ll dine you and your companye.’
18
‘Away, away, now, Little Dickie!
O now let all your taunting be!
There’s not a man in the king’s army
That would have tried what’s done by thee.
19
‘Cast back, cast back my fetters again!
Cast back my fetters! I say to thee;
And get you gane the way you came,
I wish no prisoners like to thee.’
20
‘I have a mare, she’s called Meg,
The best in all our low countrie;
If she gang barefoot till they are done,
An ill death may your lordship die!’
E
Macmath MS, p. 76. “Taken down by me, September, 1886, from my aunt,
Miss Jane Webster: heard by her in her youth, at Airds.”
1
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
‘We’ll awa to bonnie Dundee,
And set our brither Archie free.’
* * * * *
2
They broke through locks, and they broke through bars,
And they broke through everything that cam in their way,
Until they cam to a big iron gate,
And that’s where brother Archie lay.
[Little John says]
3
. . . . . . .
‘O brither Archie speak to me,
. . . . . . .
For we are come to set ye free.’
4
. . . . . . .
‘Such a thing it canna be,
For there’s fifty pund o gude Spanish airn
Atween my neckbane and my knee.’
F
Communicated by Mr J. M. Watson, of Clark’s Island, Plymouth Harbor,
Massachusetts, April 10, 1889, as remembered by him from the singing
of his father.
1
As I walked out one morning in May,
Just before the break of day,
I heard two brothers a making their moan,
And I listened a while to what they did say.
I heard, etc.
2
‘We have a brother in prison,’ said they,
‘Oh in prison lieth he!
If we had but ten men just like ourselves,
The prisoner we would soon set free.’
3
‘Oh no, no, no!’ Bold Dickie said he,
‘Oh no, no, no, that never can be!
For forty men is full little enough
And I for to ride in their companie.
4
‘Ten to hold the horses in,
Ten to guard the city about,
Ten for to stand at the prison-door,
And ten to fetch poor Archer out.’
5
They mounted their horses, and so rode they,
Who but they so merrilie!
They rode till they came to a broad river’s side,
And there they alighted so manfullie.
6
They mounted their horses, and so swam they,
Who but they so merrilie!
They swam till they came to the other side,
And there they alighted so manfullie.
7
They mounted their horses, and so rode they,
Who but they so merrilie!
They rode till they came to that prison-door,
And then they alighted so manfullie.
8
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
‘For I have forty men in my companie,
And I have come to set you free.’
9
‘Oh no, no, no!’ poor Archer says he,
‘Oh no, no, no, that never can be!
For I have forty pounds of good Spanish iron
Betwixt my ankle and my knee.’
10
Bold Dickie broke lock, Bold Dickie broke key,
Bold Dickie broke everything that he could see;
He took poor Archer under one arm,
And carried him out so manfullie.
11
They mounted their horses, and so rode they,
Who but they so merrilie!
They rode till they came to that broad river’s side,
And there they alighted so manfullie.
12
‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ poor Archer says he,
‘Take my love home to my wife and children three;
For my horse grows lame, he cannot swim,
And here I see that I must die.’
13
They shifted their horses, and so swam they,
Who but they so merrilie!
They swam till they came to the other side,
And there they alighted so manfullie.
14
‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ poor Archer says he,
‘Look you yonder there and see;
For the high-sheriff he is a coming,
With an hundred men in his companie.’
15
‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ High-sheriff said he,
‘You’re the damndest rascal that ever I see!
Go bring me back the iron you’ve stole,
And I will set the prisoner free.’
16
‘Oh no, no, no!’ Bold Dickie said he,
‘Oh no, no, no, that never can be!
For the iron ‘twill do to shoe the horses,
The blacksmith rides in our companie.’
17
‘Bold Dickie, Bold Dickie,’ High-sheriff says he,
‘You’re the damndest rascal that ever I see!’
‘I thank ye for nothing,’ Bold Dickie says he,
‘And you’re a damned fool for following me.’
* * * * *
#A.#
_Written in long lines, without division into stanzas, excepting a
few instances._
1^1. folk I saw went.
13^2. And cracking, etc.
13^4. 3.
29^2. o whips, etc.
42^3. one water.
42^4. Xtenty.
43^1. _Perhaps we should read_, But throw me, throw me.
#B. a.#
12^4. Capeld.
15^{5,6} _are_ 16^{1,2}: 16^{1,2} _are_ 16^{3,4}: 16^{3,4},
17^{1,2}: 17^{1,2}, 17^{3,4}: 17^{3,4}, 18^{1,2}: 18^{1–4},
18^{3–6}.
#b.#
1^1. a-walking.
1^4. weel to what.
2^{1,2}. The youngest to the eldest said, Blythe and merrie how
can we be.
2^3. were.
3–5.
‘An ye wad be merrie, an ye wad be sad,
What the better wad billy Archie be?
Unless I had thirty men to mysell,
And a’to ride in my cumpanie.
‘Ten to hald the horses’ heads,
And other ten the watch to be,
And ten to break up the strong prison
Where billy Archie he does lie.’
Then up and spak him mettled John Hall
(The luve of Teviotdale aye was he);
‘An I had eleven men to mysell,
It’s aye the twalt man I wad be.’
Then up bespak him coarse Ca’field
(I wot and little gude worth was he);
‘Thirty men is few anew,
And a’ to ride in our companie.’
6^2. on the.
6^3. the _wanting_.
6^4, 18^4. there _for_ a’.
7^3. shoon _for_ feet.
7^4. it’s unkensome.
_After 7_:
‘There lives a smith on the water-side
Will shoe my little black mare for me,
And I’ve a crown in my pocket,
And every groat of it I wad gie.’
‘The night is mirk, and it’s very mirk,
And by candle-light I canna weel see;
The night is mirk, and it’s very pit mirk,
And there will never a nail ca right for me.’
‘Shame fa you and your trade baith!
Canna beet a good fellow by your mystery;
But leeze me on thee, my little black mare!
Thou’s worth thy weight in gold to me.’
8^1. a _wanting_.
8^2. And there: upon.
8^4. And they lighted there right speedilie.
9^1. There’s five.
9^2. will watchmen be.
9^3. ye a’.
10^1. spak him mettled John Hall.
10^2. of _wanting_.
11 _wanting._
12^3. and we.
12^4. Ca’field.
13 _wanting._
14^2. bended low back his knee.
14^3. that _wanting_.
14^4. Loup frae the.
15^2. stair.
15^{3–6} _wanting._
16^1. The black mare stood ready at.
16^2. And _wanting_: I wot a foot neer stirred she.
16^3. Till _wanting_.
16^4. And that was her gold.
17^2. And wow: speedilie.
17^{3,4} _wanting._
18^{1,2}. The live-lang night these twelve men rade, And aye till
they were right wearie.
18^4. lighted there right.
19^1. then Dickie.
19^3. file the irons frae.
19^4. For forward, forward.
20^1. hadna filed.
20^3. When out and spak.
20^4. O dinna you see.
21^2. Wi a.
21^{3,4}. This night will be our lyke-wake night, The morn the day
we a’ maun die.
22^1. was mounting, mounting.
22^3. Annan water.
23, 24.
‘My mare is young and very skeigh,
And in o the weil she will drown me;’
‘But ye’ll take mine, and I’ll take thine,
And sune through the water we sall be.’
Then up and spak him coarse Ca’field
(I wot and little gude worth was he):
‘We had better lose ane than lose a’ the lave;
We’ll lose the prisoner, we’ll gae free.’
‘Shame fa you and your lands baith!
Wad ye een your lands to your born billy?
But hey! bear up, my bonnie black mare,
And yet thro the water we sall be.’
25^2. And wow.
25^4. drunkily.
26^3. there is an ale-house here.
26^4. thee ae.
27, 28 _wanting._
29^1. irons, quo Lieutenant Gordon.
29^2. For _wanting_.
29^3. The shame a ma, quo mettled John Ha.
30^3. Yestreen I was.
30^4. now this morning am I free.
#C.#
5^2. Sae that?
#D.#
_Slightly changed by Motherwell in printing._
2^1, 15^1, 18^2. Oh.
#E.#
The ancient and veritable ballad of ‘Bold Dickie,’ as sung by A.
M. Watson, and remembered and rendered by his son, J. M. Watson.
ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS
VOL. I.
1. Riddles Wisely Expounded.
P. 1 a. Guess or die. A grim kemp, an unco knicht, asks nine riddles of
a young man; all are guessed; wherefore the kemp says it shall go well
with him. Kristensen, Skattegraveren, II, 97 ff., 154 f., Nos 457, 458,
724; V, 49, No 454.
2. The Elfin Knight.
P. 6. Nigra, No 118, p. 483, ‘Che mestiere è il vostro?’ A sempstress to
make a shirt without stitch or seam; a mason to make a room without
bricks and mortar.
7 b, second paragraph. Add: ‘Store Fordringer,’ Kristensen’s
Skattegraveren, II, 8, No 6.
3. The Fause Knight upon the Road.
P. 20. ‘Kall og svein ungi,’ Hammershaimb, Færøsk Anthologi, p. 283, No
36 (three versions), is another piece of this kind. The boat is in all
the copies, Scottish, Swedish, and Färöe.
M. Gaidoz, Mélusine, IV, 207, cites a passage from Plutarch’s life of
Numa, c. 15, which is curiously like this ballad. The question being
what is the proper expiatory sacrifice when divine displeasure has been
indicated by thunderbolts, Zeus instructs Numa that it must be made with
heads. Onions’? interposes Numa. With _men’s_—says Zeus. Hairs? suggests
Numa. With LIVE—says Zeus. Sardines? puts in Numa.
4. Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight.
P. 22. #E# is given from singing and recitation in Shropshire Folk-Lore,
edited by Charlotte Sophia Burne, 1883–86, p. 548.
Mr W. H. Babcock has recently printed the following version, as sung in
a Virginian family from “the corner between the Potomac and the Blue
Ridge:” The Folk-Lore Journal, VII, 28.
WILSON.
1
Wilson, sitting in his room one day,
With his true-love on his knee,
Just as happy as happy could be, be, be,
Just as happy as happy could be,
2
‘Do you want for fee?’ said she,
‘Or do you want for gold?
Or do you want a handsome ladye,
More handsomer than me?’
3
‘I do want for fee,’ said he,
‘And I do want for gold;
But I don’t want a handsomer ladye,
More handsomer than thee.
4
‘Go get some of your father’s fee,
And some of your father’s gold,
And two of the finest horses he has,
And married we will be, be, be,
And married we will be.’
5
She mounted on the milk-white steed,
And he the iron-grey,
And when they got to the broad waterside
It was six hours and a half till day.
6
‘Get down, get down! my pretty fair maid,
Get down, get down!’ said he;
‘For it’s nine of the king’s daughters I’ve drowned here,
And the tenth one you shall be.
7
‘Take off, take off that costly silk,
For it is a costly thing;
It cost your father too much bright gold
To drown your fair body in.
8
‘In stooping down to cut the cords round,
Sing, Turn your back on me;’
And with all the strength this lady had,
She pushed him right into the sea.
9
‘Help me out! my pretty fair miss,
O help me out!’ said he,
‘And we’ll go down to the Catholic church,
And married we will be.’
10
‘Lie there, lie there! you false-hearted man,
Lie there, lie there!’ said she,
‘For it’s nine of the king’s daughters you’ve drowned here,
But the tenth one’s drowned thee.’
11
She mounted on the milk-white steed,
And led the iron-grey,
And when she got to her own father’s house
It was three hours and a half till day.
12
While she was walking in the room,
Which caused the parrot to wake,
Said he, What’s the matter, my pretty fair miss,
That you’re up so long before day?
13
‘Hush up, hush up! my pretty little parrot,
Don’t tell no tales on me;
Your cage shall be lined with sweet may gold,
And the doors of ivorie.’
14
While they were talking all of this,
Which caused the old man to wake,
Said, What’s the matter, my pretty little parrot,
That you chatter so long before day?
15
‘The cat she sprung against my cage,
And surely frightened me,
And I called for the pretty fair miss
To drive the cat away.’
(1 lacks the third verse; in 2^{1,2}, 3^{1,2}, 4^{1,2}, _fee_ and _gold_
should be exchanged; in 12^2, 14^2, _wake_ should perhaps be _say_.)
26 b. Add these Danish copies: Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 210 ff.,
Nos 1198, 1199. (Some stanzas of ‘Kvindemorderen’ are inserted in No
932, III, 177.)
29, 34 f. #O#, #P#. #O# is repeated in Lütolf, Sagen, Bräuche u.
Legenden, u. s. w., p. 71, No 29, ‘Schön Anneli;’ #P# in Kurz, Aeltere
Dichter, u. s. w., der Schweizer, I, 117. ‘Schön Anneli,’ Töbler,
Schweizerische Volkslieder, II, 170, No 6, is an edited copy, mainly
#O#, with use of #P#.
42. A variety of #A# in Revue des Traditions populaires, II, 293,
communicated by A. Gittée, Chanson wallonne, de Bliquy, environs d’Ath.
42 f. A robber has his hand cut off by a girl. Later he marries her. The
day after the marriage they go on horseback to see his relations. On
coming to a wood he says, Do you remember the night when you cut off my
hand? It is now my turn. He orders her to strip, threatening her with
his dagger. When she is in her shift, she begs him to turn away his
eyes, seizes the dagger, and cuts his throat. ‘Le Voleur des Crêpes,’
Sébillot, Contes pop. de la Haute-Bretagne, I, 341, No 62. (G. L. K.)
43 b. ‘La Fille de Saint-Martin,’ etc. Add: Roland, II, 171, obtained by
Nérée Quépat.
44 a. Nigra, Canti popolari del Piemonte, 1888, p. 90 ff., No 13, ‘Un’
Eroina,’ gives five unpublished versions (#B-F#), ‘La Monferrina,’ #D#,
being #A# of this large and beautiful collection.
Add also: Giannini, Canti p. della Montagna Lucchese, 1889, p. 143, ‘La
Liberatrice;’ Finamore, Storie p. abruzzesi, in Archivio, I, 207, ‘Lu
Pringepe de Meláne.’
44 b. ‘Il Corsaro,’ in Nigra’s collection, No 14, p. 106 ff., with the
addition of another version. For ‘La Monferrina incontaminata,’ see
Nigra again, ‘La Fuga,’ No 15, pp. 111 ff.; Finamore, in Archivio, I,
87, ‘La Fandell’ e lu Cavaljiere’ (mixed).
#Spanish#, Nos 38–41, ‘Venganza de Honor,’ No 42, ‘La Hija de la
Viudina,’ Pidal, Asturian Romances, have the incident of the girl’s
killing with his own sword or dagger a caballero who offers her
violence. The weapon is dropped in the course of a struggle in all but
No 40; in this the damsel says, Give me your sword, and see how I would
wear it.
It is a commonplace for a pair on horseback to go a long way without
speaking. So Pidal, pp. 114, 115, 130, 133, 135, 159:
Siete leguas anduvieron
sin hablar una palabra.
60 a. #A.# Burden. The song in the Tea-Table Miscellany and the music
are found in John Squair’s MS., fol. 22, Laing collection, library of
the University of Edinburgh, handwriting about 1700. (W. Macmath.)
5. Gil Brenton.
P. 65 b. A ballad from Normandy, published by Legrand, Romania, X, 367,
III, which I am surprised to find that I have not mentioned, is a very
interesting variety of ‘Gil Brenton,’ more particularly of the Danish
‘Peder og Malfred.’ It has the attempt at substitution (a sister); the
wife acknowledges that she had been forced (par ses laquais les bras il
me bandit); the husband reveals, and proves, that he was the ravisher.
The beginning of the Norman ballad, which is lost, would probably have
had the feature of the information given the husband by the shepherdess.
Another French ballad, corrupted (environs de Redon, Ille-et-Vilaine),
has this and the attempt to pass off the sister; the husband kills his
wife. Music is ordered in the last stanza. Rolland, IV, 70. An Italian
and a Breton ballad which begin like the Danish, but proceed
differently, are spoken of under ‘Fair Janet,’ No 64, II, 102 f.. See
now Nigra’s ‘Fidanzata infedele’ in his collection, No 34, p. 197.
6. Willie’s Lady.
P. 82. ‘Hustru og mands moder,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 73, No
436, VII, 97, No 651; ‘Barselkvinden,’ the same, II, 10, No 7. (The
tale, p. 83 b, is reprinted by inadvertence, I, 73, No 234.)
7. Earl Brand.
P. 88 a. #B.# “The copy principally used in this edition of the ballad
was supplied by Mr Sharpe.” Scott. “The Douglas Tragedy was taught me by
a nurserymaid, and was so great a favorite that I committed it to paper
as soon as I was able to write.” Sharpe’s Letters, ed. Allardyce, I,
135, August 5, 1802. Sharpe was born in 1781.
88 b. ‘Hr. Kibolt,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, VI, 17, No 257, is a
good copy of ‘Ribold og Guldborg.’ It has the testaments at the end,
like several others (see I, 144 b).
89–91 a. ‘Stolt Hedelil,’ Kristensen, Skattegraveren, I, 68, No 231, is
another version of ‘Hildebrand og Hilde,’ closely resembling #G#. So is
‘Den mislykkede flugt,’ the same, VIII, 17, No 24, with the proper
tragic conclusion. Both are inferior copies.
92 a and 489 b. Add: #K#, ‘Kung Vallemo ock liten Kerstin,’ Bergström
ock Nordlander, Nyare Bidrag, o. s. v., p. 101.
95 b, 96, 489. I have omitted to mention the effect of _naming_ on
‘Clootie’ in No 1, #C# 19, I, 5:
As sune as she the fiend did name,
He flew awa in a blazing flame.
The Alpthier loses its power to harm and appears in its proper shape, as
this or that person, if called by name: Wuttke, Der deutsche
Volksaberglaube der Gegenwart, 2d ed., p. 257. Were-wolves appear in
their proper human shape on being addressed by their name: Wilhelm
Hertz, Der Werwolf, pp. 61, 84, Ulrich Jahn, Volkssagen aus Pommern u.
Rügen, pp. 386–7. An enchanted prince is freed when his name is
pronounced: Meier, No 53, p. 188 and n., p. 311. “There was in the
engagement a man [on the side of Hades] who could not be vanquished
unless his name could be discovered:” Myvyrian Archaiology of Wales, I,
167, as quoted by Rhys, Celtic Mythology, Hibbert Lectures, p. 244. (G.
L. K.)
96 ff., 489, II, 498. Plants from lovers’ graves.
Add: #Portuguese#, Roméro, II, 157, two pines.
#Italian#, Nigra, No 18, ‘Le due Tombe,’ p. 125 ff.
#A.# The lovers are buried apart, one in the church, one outside, a
pomegranate springs from the man’s grave, an almond-tree from the
maid’s; they grow large enough to shade three cities! #B.# A pomegranate
is planted on the man’s grave, a hazel on the maid’s; they shade the
city, and interlock. #C.# An almond-tree is planted on the maid’s grave,
and is cut down. #D.# The lovers are buried as in #A# (and #C#), an
almond-tree grows from the grave of the man, a jessamine from the
maid’s. See also No 19, ‘Fior di Tomba,’ where, however, there is but
one grave, which is to contain the maid’s parents as well as her lover.
The same phenomenon in the fragments #E#, #F#. ‘Il Castello d’Oviglio,’
Ferraro, Canti p. monferrini, No 45, p. 64, is another version of this
ballad. A pomegranate springs up at the maid’s feet, and shades three
cities. Cf. ‘La Mort des deux Amants,’ Rolland, I, 247, No 125.
#Roumanian.# ‘Ring and Handkerchief’ also in Marienescu, Balade, p. 50:
cited in Mélusine, IV. 142.
97 b and 489 f., II, 498 a. #Bulgarian#, Miladinof, Bùlgarski narodni
pěsni, p. 455, No 497, translated by Krauss, Sagen u. Märchen der
Südslaven, II, 427; the youth as rose-tree, the maid as grape-vine.
Cited by G. Meyer in Mélusine, IV, 87. #Little-Russian#, plane-trees of
the two sexes; cited by J. Karlowicz, _ib._, 87 f. Ruthenian (mother
attempting to poison her son’s wife poisons both wife and son),
Herrmann, Ethnologische Mittheilungen, 205 f.; buried on different sides
of the church, plants meet over the roof of the church, the mother tries
to cut them down, and while so engaged is turned into a pillar.
#Servian.# Vuk, I, No 342, II, No 30; youth, pine, maid, grape-vine.
Krasić, p. 105, No 21, p. 114, No 26; vine and pine, vine twines round
pine. #Bulgarian#, Miladinof, p. 375, No 288, rose and vine.
#Magyar-Croat#, Kurelac, p. 147, No 444, grape-vine and rose; No 445,
youth behind the church, maid before, grape-vine and rose; p. 154, No
454, rosemary and a white flower (aleluja?). (W. W.)
#Breton.# Mélusine, III, 453 f. A tree springs from over the young man’s
heart (but this is an insertion, and not quite beyond suspicion), a rose
from the maid’s. There is another version of the ballad at p. 182 f., in
which une fleur dorée grows over the man’s grave, nothing being said of
his mistress’s grave, or even of her death.
#Italo-Albanian.# Also in Vigo, Canti p. siciliani, 1857, p. 345, V, and
the edition of 1870–74, p. 698: cited in Mélusine, IV, 87.
#Gaelic.# Of Naisi (Naois) and Deirdre. King Conor caused them to be
buried far apart, but for some days the graves would be found open in
the morning and the lovers found together. The king ordered stakes of
yew to be driven through the bodies, so that they might be kept asunder.
Yew trees grew from the stakes, and so high as to embrace each other
over the cathedral of Armagh. Transactions of the Gaelic Society of
Dublin, I, 133, 1808.