B.

25
WILLIE'S LYKE-WAKE

This piece was first printed by Buchan, in 1828, and all the copies which have been recovered are of about that date. The device of a lover's feigning death as a means of winning a shy mistress enjoys a considerable popularity in European ballads. Even more favorite is a ballad in which the woman adopts this expedient, in order to escape from the control of her relations: see 'The Gay Goshawk,' with which will be given another form of the present story.

A Danish ballad answering to our Feigned Lyke-Wake is preserved, as I am informed by Professor Grundtvig, in no less than fourteen manuscripts, some of them of the 16th century, and is still living in tradition. Five versions, as yet unprinted, A-E, have been furnished me by the editor of the Ballads of Denmark.

A, from a manuscript of the sixteenth century. Young Herre Karl asks his mother's rede how he may get the maid his heart is set upon. She advises him to feign sickness, and be laid on his bier, no one to know his counsel but the page who is to do his errands. The page bids the lady to the wake that night. Little Kirstin asks her mother's leave to keep wake over Karl. The wake is to be in the upper room of Karl's house. The mother says, Be on your guard; he means to cheat you; but Kirstin, neither listening to her mother nor asking her father, goes to keep wake in the upper room. When she went in she could not see the lights for her tears. She begged all the good people to pray for Karl's soul, sat down by his head and made her own prayer, and murmured, While thou livedst I loved thee. She lifted the cloths, and there lay Karl wide awake and laughing. "All the devils in hell receive thy soul!" she cried. "If thou livedst a hundred years, thou shouldst never have my good will! "Karl proposed that she should pass the night with him. "Why would you deceive me!" Kirstin exclaimed. "Why did you not go to my father and betroth me honorably?" Karl immediately rode to her father's to do this, and they were married.

B. a, from MSS of 1610 and later, almost identical with b, 'Den forstilte Vaagestue,' Levninger, Part II, 1784, p. 34, No 7.[208] This version gives us some rather unnecessary previous history. Karl has sued for Ingerlille three years, and had an ill answer. He follows her to church one fine day, and, after mass, squeezes her fingers and asks, Will you take pity on me? She replies, You must ask my father and friends; and he, I have, and can get no good answer. If you will give me your troth, we can see to that best ourselves. "Never," she says. "Farewell, then; but Christ may change your mind." Karl meets his mother on his way from church, who asks why he is so pale. He tells her his plight, and is advised, as before, to use craft. The wake is held on Karl's premises.[209] Ingerlille, in scarlet mantle, goes with her maids. She avows her love, but adds that it was a fixed idea in her mind that he would deceive her. She lifts up the white cloth that covers the face. Karl laughs, and says, We were good friends before, so are we still. Bear out the bier, and follow me to bed with the fair maid. She hopes he will have respect for her honor. Karl reassures her, leaves her with his mother, rides to Ingerlille's house, obtains her parents' approbation, and buys wine for his wedding.

C, from manuscripts of the sixteenth century. Karl is given out for dead, and his pages ride to the convent to ask that his body may be laid in the cloister. The bier is borne in; the prioress comes to meet it, with much respect. The pages go about bidding maids to the wake. Ellin asks her mother if she may go. (This looks as if there had originally been no convent in the ballad.) Her mother tells her to put on red gold and be wary of Karl, he is so very tricky. When Ellin owns her attachment, Karl whispers softly, Do not weep, but follow me. Horses were ready at the portal—black horses all!

Karl sprang from the bier, took Ellin, and made for the door. The nuns, who stood reading in the choir, thought it was an angel that had translated her, and wished one would come for them. Karl, with fifteen men who were in waiting, carried Ellin home, and drank his bridal with her.

D, from recent oral tradition. As Karl lay in his bed, he said, How shall I get the fair maid out of the convent? His foster-mother heard him, and recommended him to feign death and bid the fair maid to his wake. The maid asked her father's leave to go, but he said, Nay, the moment you are inside the door he will seize you by the foot. But when the page, who had first come in blue, comes back in scarlet, she goes. She stands at Karl's head and says, I never shall forget thee; at his feet, "I wished thee well;" at his side, "Thou wast my dearest." Then she turns and bids everybody good-night, but Karl seizes her, and calls to his friends to come drink his bridal. We hear nothing of the convent after the first stanza.

E, from oral tradition of another quarter. Karl consults his mother how he shall get little Kirstin out of the convent, and receives the same counsel. A page is sent to the convent, and asks who will come to the wake now Herr Karl is dead? Little Kirstin, without application to the prioress, goes to her mother, who does not forbid her, but warns her that Karl will capture her as sure as she goes into the room.

F, another copy from recent tradition, was published in 1875, in Kristensen's Jyske Folkeviser, II, 213, No 62, 'Vaagestuen.' There is no word of a convent here. The story is made very short. Kirsten's mother says she will be fooled if she goes to the wake. The last stanza, departing from all other copies, says that when Kirsten woke in the morning Karl was off.

G. 'Klosterranet,' Levninger, I, 23, No 4 (1780), Danske Viser, IV, 261, No 212, a very second-rate ballad, may have the praise of preserving consistency and conventual discipline. The young lady does not slip out to see her mother without leave asked and had. It is my persuasion that the convent, with its little jest about the poor nuns, is a later invention, and that C is a blending of two different stories. In G, Herr Morten betroths Proud Adeluds, who is more virtuous than rich. His friends object; her friends do not want spirit, and swear that she shall never be his. Morten's father sends him out of the country, and Adeluds is put into a convent. After nine years Morten returns, and, having rejected an advantageous match proposed by his father, advises with his brother, Herr Nilaus, how to get his true love out of the cloister. The brother's plan is that of the mother and foster-mother in the other versions. Herr Nilaus promises a rich gift if Morten's body may be buried within the cloister. From this point the story is materially the same as in C.

H. A copy, which I have not yet seen, in Rahbek's Læsning i blandede Æmner (or Hesperus), III, 151, 1822 (Bergström).

'Hertugen af Skage,' Danske Viser, II, 191, No 88, has this slight agreement with the foregoing ballads. Voldemar, the king's youngest son, hearing that the duke has a daughter, Hildegerd, that surpasses all maids, seeks her out in a convent in which she has taken refuge, and gets a cold reception. He feigns death, desiring that his bones may repose in the cloister. His bier is carried into the convent church. Hildegerd lights nine candles for him, and expresses compassion for his early death. While she is standing before the altar of the Virgin, Voldemar carries her out of the church by force.

This, says Afzelius, 1814, is one of the commonest ballads in Sweden, and is often represented as a drama by young people in country places. A a, 'Herr Carl, eller Klosterrofvet,' Afzelius, I, 179, No 26, new ed. No 24; b, Afzelius, Sago-Häfder, ed. 1851, IV, 106. B, Atterbom, Poetisk Kalender for 1816, p. 63, 'Det Iefvande Liket.' C. Rancken, Några Prof af Folksång, o. s. v., p. 13, No 4. These differ but slightly from Danish D, E. All three conclude with the humorous verses about the nuns, which in Rancken's copy take this rollicking turn:

Bergström, new Afzelius, II, 131, refers to another version in Gyllenmärs' visbok, p. 191, and to a good copy obtained by himself.

An Icelandic version for the 17th century, which is after the fashion of Danish C, G, is given in Íslenzk Fornkvæði, II, 59, No 40, 'Marteins kviða.' The lover has in all three a troop of armed men in waiting outside of the convent.

Professor Bugge has obtained a version in Norway, which, however, is as to language essentially Danish. (Bergström, as above.)

There is a very gay and pretty south-European ballad, in which the artifice of feigning death is successfully tried by a lover after the failure of other measures.

A. Magyar. Arany and Gyulai, I, 172, No 18, 'Pálbeli Szép Antal;' translated by Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, p. 80, 'Schön Anton.' Handsome Tony tells his mother that he shall die for Helen. The mother says, Not yet. I will build a marvellous mill. The first wheel shall grind out pearls, the middle stone discharge kisses, the third wheel distribute small change. The pretty maids will come to see, and Helen among them. Helen asks her mother's leave to see the mill. "Go not," the mother replies. "They are throwing the net, and a fox will be caught." Tony again says he must die. His mother says, not yet; for she will build an iron bridge; the girls will come to see it, and Helen among them. Helen asks to see the bridge; her mother answers as before. Tony says once more that he shall die for Helen. His mother again rejoins, Not yet. Make believe to be dead; the girls will come to see you, and Helen among them. Helen entreats to be allowed to go to see the handsome young man that has died. Her mother tells her she will never come back. Tony's mother calls to him to get up; the girl he was dying for is even now before the gate, in the court, standing at his feet. "Never," says Helen, "saw I so handsome a dead man,—eyes smiling, mouth tempting kisses, and his feet all ready for a spring." Up he jumped and embraced her.

B. Italian. Ferraro, Canti popolari monferrini, p. 59, No 40, 'Il Genovese.' The Genoese, not obtaining the beautiful daughter of a rich merchant on demand, plants a garden. All the girls come for flowers, except the one desired. He then gives a ball, with thirty-two musicians. All the girls are there, but not the merchant's daughter. He then builds a church, very richly adorned. All the girls come to mass, all but one. Next he sets the bells a ringing, in token of his death. The fair one goes to the window to ask who is dead. The good people ("ra bun-ha gent," in the Danish ballad "det gode folk") tell her that it is her first love, and suggest that she should attend the funeral. She asks her father, who consents if she will not cry. As she was leaving the church, the lover came to life, and called to the priests and friars to stop singing. They went to the high altar to be married.

C. Slovenian. Vraz, Narodne peśni ilirske, p. 93, 'Čudna bolezen' ('Strange Sickness'); translated by Anastasius Grün, Volkslieder aus Krain, p. 36, 'Der Scheintodte.' "Build a church, mother," cries the love-sick youth, "that all who will may hear mass; perhaps my love among them." The mother built a church, one and another came, but not his love. "Dig a well, mother, that those who will may fetch water; perhaps my love among them." The well was dug, one and another came for water, but not his love. "Say I am dead, mother, that those who will may come to pray." Those who wished came, his love first of all. The youth was peeping through the window. "What kind of dead man is this, that stretches his arms for an embrace, and puts out his mouth for a kiss?"

Danish G translated by the Rev. J. Johnstone, 'The Robbery of the Nunnery, or, The Abbess Outwitted,' Copenhagen, 1786 (Danske Viser, IV, 366); by Prior, III, 400. Swedish A, by G. Stephens, For. Quar. Rev., 1841, XXVI, 49, and by the Howitts, Lit. and Rom. of Northern Europe, I, 292. English C, by Rosa Warrens, Schottische V. 1., p. 144, No 33.

A.

B.

C.

D.

B.

C.

26
THE THREE RAVENS

a was printed from Melismata, by Ritson, in his Ancient Songs, 1790, p. 155. Mr. Chappell remarked, about 1855, Popular Music of the Olden Time, I, 59, that this ballad was still so popular in some parts of the country that he had "been favored with a variety of copies of it, written down from memory, and all differing in some respects, both as to words and tune, but with sufficient resemblance to prove a similar origin." Motherwell, Minstrelsy, Introduction, p. lxxvii, note 49, says he had met with several copies almost the same as a. b is the first stanza of one of these (traditional) versions, "very popular in Scotland."

The following verses, first printed in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, and known in several versions in Scotland, are treated by Motherwell and others as a traditionary form of 'The Three Ravens.' They are, however, as Scott says, "rather a counterpart than a copy of the other," and sound something like a cynical variation of the tender little English ballad. Dr Rimbault (Notes and Queries, Ser. V, III, 518) speaks of unprinted copies taken down by Mr Blaikie and by Mr Thomas Lyle of Airth.

THE TWA CORBIES.

'The Three Ravens' is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 145, No 23; by Henrietta Schubart, p. 155; Gerhard, p. 95; Rosa Warrens, Schottische V. l. der Vorzeit, p. 198; Wolff, Halle der Völker, I, 12, Hausschatz, p. 205.

'The Twa Corbies' (Scott), by Grundtvig, p. 143, No 22; Arndt, p. 224; Gerhard, p. 94; Schubart, p. 157; Knortz, L. u. R. Alt-Englands, p. 194; Rosa Warrens, p. 89. The three first stanzas, a little freely rendered into four, pass for Pushkin's: Works, 1855, II, 462, xxiv.

b.

Variations of The Twa Corbies.

b.

c.

d.

27
THE WHUMMIL BORE

This ballad, if it ever were one, seems not to have been met with, or at least to have been thought worth notice, by anybody but Motherwell. As already observed in the preface to 'Hind Horn,' stanza 2 seems to have slipped into that ballad, in consequence of the resemblance of stanza 1 to F 2, H 3 of 'Hind Horn.' This first stanza is, however, a commonplace in English and elsewhere: e. g., 'The Squire of Low Degree:'

Ritson, Met. Rom. III, 145 f.