Kitabı oku: «Basque Legends; With an Essay on the Basque Language», sayfa 11

“Marie Louise is married to-day. Would you like to be there?”

He says, “Yes.”

“You must give me your word of honour that, at the end of a year, you will give me half the child that Marie Louise will bear to you.”

He promises it, and he takes him and carries him to the door of Marie Louise’s house. This angel was the soul which he had saved of the man who was lying at the gates of the church for his debts. He asks for alms. Marie Louise’s father was very charitable; they therefore give him something. He asks again if they would not let him go in to warm himself at the fire. They tell him “No,” that he would be in the way on that day. They go and ask the master, and the master bids them to let him come in and to give him a good dinner.

Marie Louise was already married when Juan Dekos arrived. He had a handsome handkerchief which Marie Louise had given him, and when she passed he showed it in such a way that she could not help seeing it. She saw it clearly, and after looking closely at him she recognises Juan Dekos. Marie Louise goes to find her father, and says to him:

“Papa, you must do me a pleasure.”

“Yes, yes, if I can do so.”

“You see that poor man? I wish to have him to dine with us to-day.”

The father says, “That cannot be; he is filthy and disgusting.”

“I will wash him, and I will put him some of your new clothes on.”

The father then says, “Yes,” and he makes them do as Marie Louise wished. They place him at table, but Marie Louise alone recognised him. After dinner they asked Juan Dekos to tell a story in his turn like the rest.

He says, “Yes, but if you wish to hear my story you must shut all the doors and give me all the keys.”

They give them to him.

He begins: “There was a father and a mother who had a son who was not very bright, and they decide that they must send him to sea. They load a ship with sand for him. He sells this sand very well, and pays the heavy debts of a dead man whom they were keeping at the church doors (without burial).”

When the second officer saw and heard that, he perceived that his life was in danger, and that it was all up with him, and he begs the king for the key of the door, saying that he must go out; but he could not give it him, so he was forced to remain, and not at all at his ease. Juan Dekos begins again:

“His father loaded the ship again with iron, and he sells it and bought with this money seven Christians, and,” pointing to the king’s daughter, “there is the eighth.”

The king knew this story already from his daughter. What do they do then? When they see how wicked the second officer had been, they had a cartload of faggots brought into the middle of the market-place, they put a shirt of sulphur upon him, and burn him in the midst of the place.

Juan Dekos and Marie Louise marry and are very happy. They had a child, and at the end of a year an angel comes to fetch the half of it. Juan Dekos was very sorry, but as he had given his word he was going to cut it in half. The angel seizes him by the arm, and says to him:

“I see your obedience; I leave you your child.”

If they lived well, they died well too.

Variation of the above

Juan de Kalais. ¹⁴⁴

As there are many in the world, and as there will be, there was a mother and her son. They had a small fortune. Nothing would please the boy but that he should go and learn to be a sailor. The mother allows him to do so, and when he was passed as captain she gives him a ship with a valuable cargo. The lad starts off and comes to a city. While he was there he sees a crowd of men on a dung-heap, who were dragging an object, some on one side and others on the other. He approaches and sees that they have a dead man there. He asks what they are doing like that for, and why they do not bury him. They tell him that he has left debts, and that they will not bury him, even though he should fall to pieces.

Juan de Kalais asks, “And if anyone should pay his debts, would you bury him then?” They say, “Yes.”

Juan de Kalais has it cried throughout the city that whoever has to receive anything of that man should show himself. As you may suppose, many came forward, even those who had nothing to receive. Our Juan de Kalais sold his cargo, and still, not having enough, he sold his ship too.

He returns home and tells his mother what he has done. His mother was very angry, and said that he would never grow rich if he acted like that. But, as he wished much to go again, his mother bought for him a wretched little ship and loads it with oakum, and tar, and resin, and he goes on his voyage. He meets with a large man-of-war, and the captain tells him that he must buy of him a charming young lady. Juan de Kalais tells him that he has no money, but the other captain (he was an Englishman) tells him to give him his cargo at least. Juan de Kalais says to him:

“That is not worth much.”

But the English captain says to him that it is, that it just happens to be most valuable to him, and they make the exchange. Our Juan de Kalais goes to his mother’s house, and his mother was more angry than before, saying she had nothing now with which to load his ship. She had nothing, and would give him nothing; that instead of getting rich they had become poor, and that it would have been better if he had stopped at home. After some days he married the young lady whom the captain had given him, and as Juan de Kalais was in poverty and distress, not having any cargo, his wife told him that he had no need of cargo—that she will give him a flag and a handkerchief, and she gave him her ring and told him to go to the roadstead of Portugal and to fire three rounds of cannon; and, when people came, to tell them that he must see the king. (She added) that she was called Marie Madeleine. Our Juan de Kalais sets off and arrives in the roadstead of Portugal, and fires his three rounds of cannon. Everybody is astonished at hearing this noise. The king himself comes on board the ship and asks how they dared to fire, and that everyone is a prisoner.¹⁴⁵ He answers that he brings news of Marie Madeleine, and he shows him the flag with her portrait and the handkerchief. The king did not know where he was with joy, and he tells him that he must go directly and fetch her.

The king had with him an old general¹⁴⁶ who had wished to marry Marie Madeleine, but she would not; and he asks the king if he might not go too with him—that he would do it quicker. The king told him to go then if he wished, and they set out.

When they were at sea the old general said to Juan de Kalais one day:

“Look, Juan de Kalais, what a fine fish there is here!”

He looks and does not see anything. The old general says to him again:

“Stoop down your head, and look here.”

And at the same time he throws him into the sea. The old general goes on his voyage, and takes the young lady and goes back to the king, and makes him believe that Juan de Kalais was drowned, and he still wished to marry Marie Madeleine; but she would by no means consent, (saying) that she had been married to Juan de Kalais, and that she was so deeply sorry for him that she would remain seven years without going out of her room. As her father wished her to marry this general she decided to do so then.

Let us now go to the poor Juan de Kalais. He remained seven years on a rock, eating sea-weed and drinking the sea-water. There came to him a fox,¹⁴⁷ who said to him:

“You do not know, Juan de Kalais, the daughter of the King of Portugal is going to be married to-morrow. What would you give to go there?”

“The half of what I have at present, and the half of what I shall have later on.”

The fox takes him and carries him to the door of the house of the King of Portugal, and leaves him there. Juan de Kalais asks if they want a servant. They tell him that they will have work for him too—that they will have a wedding in the house to-morrow. The lady’s maid recognised Juan de Kalais, and goes running to tell it to the queen, who will not believe it—(she says) that he was drowned. The servant, after having looked at him again, assures her that it is he; and the princess, to put an end to the dispute, goes off to see him, and quickly assures herself that it is he, seeing the ring that she had given him. She throws herself into his arms, and makes him come with her to the king. The king said to her that they would have the wedding feast just the same. While they were at table the king asked Juan de Kalais to tell them some story. Juan de Kalais says “Yes,” and takes out his sword, and puts it on the table, saying, “Whoever speaks shall have news of my sword.” He begins to tell how he had saved a man by selling all that he had and paying his debts; how afterwards he had made an exchange for a young lady—that in order to save her he had given all his cargo; then how he had been betrayed by one of his friends and thrown into the water, and that he had lived on sea-weed and sea-water.

When the king had heard that he ordered the old general to be arrested, and has him burnt immediately in the midst of the market-place.

The king gives Juan de Kalais all his riches, and they lived very happily. At the end of a year they had a fine boy, and lo! the fox comes and tells him that he has come to look for what he has promised him, and he begins to make a division. If there were two gold chains he put one aside, and of all that there was the same thing. When they had finished the division the fox said to him that there was still something—that he had told him it was to be the half of all he might possess. He remembers then his child, and takes out his sword to cut it in half, when the fox with his paw knocks the sword out of his hand, saying that it is enough; that he sees what a sterling good man he is, and that he wants nothing; that he (the fox) is the soul which he had saved by paying his debts, and that he is now in Heaven, thanks to him, and that he will keep his place and that of all his family ready there; and having said that he flew away, taking the form of a pigeon.

Laurentine,

Learnt it from her mother.

The Duped Priest. ¹⁴⁸

Like many others in the world, there was a man and his wife. The man’s name was Petarillo. He was fond of sporting. One day he caught two leverets, and the parish priest came to see him. The husband said to his wife—“If the priest comes again you will let one of the hares go, as if to meet me, tying, at the same time, a letter round its neck, and I will tie another letter to the other hare.”

The priest goes to the house one day, and asks where the husband is. The woman says:

“I will send one of the hares with a letter to fetch him. No matter where he is, she will find him; he has trained them so well.”

And she lets one of the hares loose. They grew impatient at the long delay, and had given it up, when at last the husband came. His wife says to him, “I sent the hare.”

He answers, “I have it here.”

The astonished priest says to him, “You must sell me that hare, I beg you; you have trained it so well.”

A second time he says, “You must sell it me.”

And the man said to him, “I will not give it you for less than five hundred francs.”

“Oh! you will give it me for three hundred?”

“No, no.”

At last he gives it him for four hundred. The priest tells his housekeeper:

“If any one comes, you will let the hare loose; she will find me, no matter where I may be.”

A man comes to the parsonage to say that a sick person is asking for the priest. She immediately lets the hare loose, being quite sure that that would be enough. But the priest did not return. The man got tired of waiting, and went off. The housekeeper told the priest that she had let the hare loose, and that she had seen nothing more of it.

In a rage, he goes to the huntsman’s house. But Petarillo, seeing him coming in a rage, gives a wine-skin to his wife, and says to her:

“Put this under your jacket. When the priest is here, I will plunge a knife into you in a rage, and you will fall as if you were dead; and when I shall begin to play the flute, you will get up as if yon were alive.”

The priest arrives in a great rage, (they all three dispute), and the man stabs his wife. She falls on the ground, and the priest says to him:

“Do you know what you have done?”

He replies, “It is nothing; I will soon put it to rights.”

And he takes his flute, and begins to play. She gets up all alive again, and the priest says to him:

“Do sell me that flute, I beg you.”

He answers that it is of great value, and that he will not sell it.

“But you must sell it me. How much do you want for it? I will give you all you ask.”

“Five hundred francs.” And he gives it him.

The priest’s housekeeper used sometimes to laugh at him. So when he came home he wanted to frighten her a little; and, as usual, she begins to make fun of him; and he stabs her with the large carving-knife. His sister says to him,

“Do you know what you have done? You have killed your housekeeper!”

“No, no! I can put that to rights.”

He begins to play on the flute, but it does no good at all. He rushes off in a rage to the huntsman’s house, and he ties the huntsman in a sack, and hauls him off to throw him into the sea. As he passes near the church, the bell begins to ring for Mass, and he leaves the man there till he has said Mass. Meanwhile a shepherd passes. He asks him what he is doing there. He says to him, “The priest is going to throw me into the sea because I will not marry the king’s daughter.”

The other said to him, “I will put myself in your place, and I will deliver you. When you have tied me up, go away with my flock.”

When the priest returned, after having said Mass, he takes up the sack, and the man says,

“I will marry the king’s daughter.”

“I will marry you presently.”

And he throws him into the sea.

The good priest was returning home, when he sees the man with the sheep, and says to him,

“Where did you get that flock from?”

“From the bottom of the sea. There are plenty there. Don’t you see that white head, how it lifts itself above the sea?”

“Yes; and I, too, must have a flock like that.”

“Come close to the edge, then.”

And our huntsman pushes him into the sea.

Gagna-haurra Hirigaray.

We have other tales about priests, all in the same spirit as this. The Basques are a deeply religious people, and are generally on the best terms with the clergy; but they will not be dominated by them. Any attempt at undue interference in their national games or customs is sure to be resented; of this we have known several instances—some rather amusing ones. G. H., the narrator of the above tale, did not know a word of French.

Some of Campbell’s stories begin a little like these, e.g., Vol. I., p. 95, Macdonald’s tale—“There was a king and a knight, as there was and will be, and as grows the fir tree, some of it crooked and some of it straight, and he was King of Eirinn.” The ending, “If they had lived well, they would have died well too,” recals a Latin inscription still occasionally to be seen on Basque houses:—

 
“Memento tua novissima,
Et non peccabis in æternum.”
 

This is on two houses in Baigorry, and on one at Ascarrat, and probably on many others.

(B.)—Contes des Fées, derived directly from the French

We do not suppose that the tales here given are the only ones in our collection which are derived more or less directly from or through the French. Several of those previously given under different heads we believe to have been so. The question, however, still remains: Whence did Madame d’Aulnoy, Perrault, and the other writers of the charming “Contes des Fées,” derive their materials? Place their talent as high as we may, we still believe them to have been incapable of inventing them. Combine, transpose, dress up, refine—all this they did in an incomparable manner. Some portions they may have culled, directly or indirectly, from Eastern stories; their own imagination may have filled up many a blank, expanded many a hint, clothed many a half-dressed body in the habit of their own times—as heraldic painters formed grotesque monsters by selecting and putting together parts from many diverse animals; but to create, even in fancy, was beyond their line, if it is not altogether beyond the power of man. Therefore, when we hear these tales related by peasants ignorant of French, we may still ask how far they have learnt them at second or third hand from the printed works, and how far they are reciting the crude materials out of which those works were originally composed? This is a question which can only be fully answered when all the legends in all the languages and patois of France shall have been collected and compared. Meanwhile, we beg our readers to accept these few tales as a small and not very valuable stone contributed towards the erection of so vast an edifice.

Ass’-Skin. ¹⁴⁹

Like many others in the world, there was a king and a queen. One day there came to them a young girl who wished for a situation. They asked her her name, and she said “Faithful.”¹⁵⁰ The king said to her, “Are you like your name?” and she said “Yes.”

She stopped there seven years. Her master gave her all the keys, even that of the treasure. One day, when the king and queen were out, Faithful goes to the fountain, and she sees seven robbers coming out of the house. Judge what a state this poor girl was in! She runs straight to the treasury, and sees that more than half the treasure is missing. She did not know what would become of her—she was all of a tremble. When the king and queen came home she told them what had happened, but they would not believe her, and they put her in prison. She stays there a year. She kept saying that she was not in fault, but they would not believe her. The king condemns her to death, and sends her with four men to the forest to kill her, telling them to bring him her heart.

They go off, but these men thought it a pity to kill this young girl, for she was very pretty, and she told them that she was innocent of this robbery; and they say to her:

“If you will not come any more into this land, we will spare your life.”

She promises them that she will not be seen again in those parts. The men see an ass, and they tell her that they will carry its heart to the king. The young girl said to them:

“Flay this ass, I pray you; and, in order that no one may know me, I will never take this skin off me.”

The men (do so), and go off to the king, and the young girl goes to look for some shelter. At nightfall she finds a beautiful house. She asks if they want some one to keep the geese. They tell her, “Yes, yes, yes.” They put her along with the geese, and tell her that she must go with them every day to such a field. She went out very early in the morning and came back late. It was the king’s house, and it was the queen-mother and her son who lived there.

After some time there appeared to her one day an old woman, who called to her:

“Faithful, you have done penance enough. The son of the king is going to give some grand feasts, and you must go to them. This evening you will ask madame permission, and you will tell her that you will give her all the news of the ball if she will let you go for a little while. And, see, here is a nut. All the dresses and things you want will come out of that. You will break it as you go to the place of the festival.”¹⁵¹

That evening she asked permission of her mistress to go and see the festival which the king is going to give, for a short time only, and that she will return directly and tell her all that she has seen there. Her mistress said, “Yes.” That evening she goes then. On her way she breaks the nut, and there comes out of it a silver robe. She puts it on, and goes there, and immediately she enters all the world looks at her. The king is bewitched, he does not quit her for an instant, and they always dance together. He pays no attention at all to the other young ladies. They enjoy the refreshments very much. Some friends of the king call him, and he has to go there; and in this interval Faithful makes her escape to the house.

She tells the queen how that a young girl had come to the ball, how she had dazzled everybody, and especially the king, who paid attention to her alone, but that she had escaped.

When the son comes to the house, his mother says to him:

“She escaped from you then, your young lady? She did not care for you, doubtless.”

He says to his mother, “Who told you that?”

“Ass’-skin; she wished to go and see it.”

The king goes to where Faithful was and gives her two blows with his slipper, saying to her:

“If you return there again I will kill you on the spot.”

The next day Ass’-skin goes with her geese, and there appears to her again the old woman. She tells her that she ought to go to the ball again this evening—that her mistress would give her permission. “Here is a walnut; you have there all that is necessary to dress yourself with. The king will ask you your name—Braf-le-mandoufle.”¹⁵²

In the evening she asks permission of her mistress, but she is astonished (at her asking), and says to her:

“You do not know what the king has said—that if he catches you he will kill you on the spot?”

“I am not afraid. He will be sure not to catch me.”

“Go, then.”

She goes off, and on the way she breaks the walnut, and there comes out of it a golden robe. She goes in. The king comes with a thousand compliments, and asks her how she had escaped the evening before without saying anything to him, and that he had been very much hurt at it.

They amuse themselves thoroughly. The king has eyes for her alone. He asks her her name. She tells him, “Braf-le-mandoufle.” They feast themselves well, and some friends having called to him he goes to them, and the young lady escapes.

Ass’-skin goes to tell the queen that yesterday evening’s young lady had come, but still more beautiful—that she had escaped in the very middle of the ball. She goes off to her geese. The king comes to his house. His mother says to him:

“She came then, the young lady you love? but she only loves you so-so, since she has gone off in this fashion.”

“Who told you that?”

“Ass’-skin.”

He goes off to her and gives her two kicks with his slipper, and says to her:

“Woe to you if you go there again; I will kill you on the very spot.”

She goes off to her geese, and the old woman comes to her again and tells her to ask permission again for this evening—that she must go to the dance. She gives her a peach, and tells her that she will have there all that is necessary to dress herself with. She goes then to ask her mistress if she will give her permission, like last night, to go to the ball. She says to her:

“Yes, yes, I will give you leave. But are you not afraid lest the king should catch you? He has said that he will kill you if you go there.”

“I am not afraid, because I am sure that he will not catch me. Yesterday he looked for me again, but he could not catch me.”

She goes off then. On the way she opens her peach, and finds there a dress entirely of diamonds, and if she was beautiful before, judge what she is now! She shone like the sun. The king was plunged into joy when he saw her. He was in an ecstasy. He did not wish to dance, but they sat down at their ease on beautiful arm-chairs, and with their refreshments before them they passed such a long time together. The king asked her to give him her promise of marriage. The young lady gives him her word, and the king takes his diamond ring off his finger and gives it to her. His friends call him away to come quickly to see something very rare, and off he goes, leaving his lady. She takes advantage of this opportunity to escape.¹⁵³ She tells her mistress all that has passed—how that this young lady had come with a dress of diamonds, that all the world was dazzled by her beauty, that they could not even look at her she shone so brightly, that the king did not know where he was for happiness, that they had given each other their promise of marriage, and that the king had given her his diamond ring, but that the best thing of all was that to-day again she has escaped him.

The king comes in at that very instant. His mother says to him:

“She has not, she certainly has not, any wish for you. She has gone off with your diamond ring. Where will you go and look for her? You do not know where she lives. Where will you ask for a young lady who has such a name as ‘Braf-le-mandoufle!’ She has given you her promise of marriage too; but she does not wish to have you, since she has acted like that.”

Our king did not even ask his mother who has told her that. He went straight to bed thoroughly ill, and so Ass’-skin did not have her two kicks that evening.

The queen was in great trouble at seeing her son ill like that. She was continually turning over in her head who this young lady might be. She said to her son, “Is this young lady our Ass’-skin? How else could she have known that you had given your promise to one another, and that you had given her the ring too? She must have been very close to you. Did you see her?”

He says, “No,” but remains buried in thought.

His mother says, “She has a very pretty face under her ass’-skin.”

And she says that she must send for her, and that he must have a good look at her too; that he shall have some broth brought up by her.

She sends for Ass’-skin to the kitchen, has the broth made for her son, and Ass’-skin puts in the middle of the bread the ring which the king had given her. The lady had her well dressed, and she goes to the king. The king, after having seen her, was still doubtful. He drank his broth; but when he puts the bread into his mouth he finds something (hard), and is very much astonished at seeing his ring. He was ill no longer. He goes and runs to his mother to tell her his joy that he has found his lady. He wishes to marry directly, and all the kings of the neighbourhood are invited to the feast; and, while they were dining, everyone had some fine news to relate. They ask the bride, too, if she had not something to tell them. She says “Yes,” but that she cannot tell what she knows—that it would not please all at the table. Her husband tells her to speak out boldly; he draws his sword, and says,

“Whosoever shall speak a word shall be run through with this sword.”

She then tells how a poor girl was servant at a king’s house; how she remained there seven years; that they liked her very much, and treated her with confidence, even to giving her the keys of the treasure. One day, when the king and his wife were out, robbers entered, and stole almost all the treasure. The king would not believe that robbers had come. He puts the young girl in prison for a whole year, and at the end of that time he sends her to execution, telling the executioners to bring her heart to the house. The executioners were better than the king; they believed in her innocence, and, after having killed an ass, they carried its heart to the king; “and for the proof, it is I who was servant to this king.”

The bridegroom says to her, “Who can this king be? Is it my uncle?”

The lady says, “I do not know if he is your uncle, but it is that gentleman there.”

The bridegroom takes his sword and kills him on the spot, saying to his wife,

“You shall not be afraid of him any more.”

They lived very happily. Some time afterwards they had two children, a boy and a girl. When the elder was seven years old he died, telling his father and mother that he was going to Heaven to get a place there ready for them. At the end of a week the other child dies too, and she says to them that she, too, is going to Heaven, and that she will keep their place ready; that they, too, would quickly go to them. And, as she had said, at the end of a year, at exactly the very same time, both the gentleman and lady died, and they both went to Heaven.

Laurentine.

We have four other variations of the above story, written down, with others, that we heard, but did not copy out. One, which much resembles the above, excepting in the commencement, opens with the proposal of a king’s son to marry one of the three daughters of another king. This king asks his three daughters (like King Lear) how much they love him. The eldest says, “As much as I do my little finger.” That did not please him. The second says, “As much as my middle finger.” The youngest says, “As much as the bread loves the salt.” In a rage the father sends her into the forest, with two servants, to be killed. They spare her, and carry the horse’s heart to the king, and the girl lives in the forest “on the plants which the birds brought her, and on the flowers which the bees brought her.” The king’s son finds her there while hunting, takes her home, and marries her. At the wedding feast she gives her father bread without salt, and then discovers herself, and all is made right, and they live all happily, except the two sisters, who remain old maids.

Two others open like Campbell’s “The King who Wished to Marry his Daughter.” A king loses his wife, who on her deathbed makes him promise only to marry some one just like her. This is, of course, her daughter. The daughter will not, and takes counsel of her godmother. She bids her ask for a wedding dress made of the wings of flies; but this impossibility is performed. Then the daughter escapes—in the one tale in a ship, in the other on foot—and takes a place as servant. The king has a ball; the old woman appears, and gives her the nut with the dresses, etc. But in one of these tales, on the wedding-day she was more handsomely dressed than ever before, “and think! they had their dresses made for each other”—i.e., they dress each other! “I don’t understand how it is,” said the narrator, “but the story says so.”

Our fifth version is short, and, as it puts the step-mother in an unusual light, we give it entire:—

The Step-Mother and the Step-Daughter

A father and his daughter were living together. The daughter told her father to marry again. The father said, “Why? you will be unhappy.” “It is all the same to me; I prefer to see you happy.” And after some time he marries again. This lady asked her husband to give her full power over this young girl to do what she will with her. The husband consents, and does not think any more about her; he did not even see her again. This lady says to the young girl, “If you do all I tell you, you will be the better for it.” The king lived near their house, and one day her step-mother gave her the keys of the king’s house and told her to go at such an hour of the night into the king’s bed-room, “and without waking him you will bring me back his sash.” The daughter did not like it at all, but in spite of that she goes off, and without any person seeing her, she returns home with the king’s girdle. The next day the step-mother says to her step-daughter, “You must go again, and you must bring the king’s watch chain.” While she was taking it, the king moved in his bed, and the young girl is so frightened that she runs off, and loses her shoe at the door of the king’s room. At the end of some days they hear that the king has made a proclamation that he will go from house to house with a shoe, and that she whom it fits perfectly shall be his wife. The king goes looking and looking, first of all, in the houses of the rich; but he had said that he would go into all the houses. He goes then to this gentleman’s who had married again, because it was close at hand. The persons of his suite asked him why he went there, for they were only poor people. The king will go all the same. He finds this lady, who says that they are poor, and that she is ashamed to receive the king in her bed-room; but it was there she had her step-daughter very nicely dressed, with only one shoe on her feet. She was dazzling with beauty, and the king finds her very much to his taste. They are married immediately; he takes the father and step-mother to his house, and they all live happily, and this step-daughter owed her good fortune to her step-mother.