Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
ON
WITH ANALOGUES.
By W. A. CLOUSTON,
.A UTROR 011' 'POPULAR 'I'ALES AND THEIR MIGRATIONS
AND TRANSIt'ORMATIONS,' ETC.
264
PREFATORY N01'E.
CONTENTS.
I.
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY 269
OUTLINE OF THE SQUIRE'S TALE 270
KNIGHTS RIDING INTO HALLS 276
:MAGIC HORSES, CHARIOTS, ETC. 279
MAGIC MIRRORS AND IMAGES 299
1\1AGIC RINGS AND GRMS 334
LANGUAGE OF ANIMALS 348
MAGIC SWORDS AND SPEARS 372
11.
INTRODUCTORY 382
ROMANCE OF GJJEOlvIADJ£S AND GLARE},fONDE 385
VALENTINE AND ORSON 405
REYNARD THE FOX 408
GLEOMADES AND THE SQUIRE'S TALE 409
ARABIAN TALE OF THE EBONY HORSE 413
TURKISH VARIANT 416
ARABIAN TALE OF THE FLYING CHAIR 418
PERSIAN TALE OF THE F'LYING CHEST 421
PERSIAN TALE OF THE WEAVER AS THE ANGEL GABRIEL 426
268 Oontents.
PA(;"E
I.
and on he goes, like a nlan who means business, and this is the
The lady Canace had retired early to rest, and, dreanling of her
nlagic Ring and 1\Iirror, a\voke after her first sleep, and having
roused. half a dozen of her attendants ,vent forth with them into
the park, ,vhere, by virtue of her Ring, she understood the song of
every bi1xl. Presently she came to a tree on which sat a peregrine
falcon lalllenting nlost piteously, till all the ,vood resounded with
her cries; and so desperately had she beaten herself 'with her ,vings
that the red blood streanled dovnl the tree. Canace, with the Ring
on her finger, not only understood ,vhat any bird Inight say in its
s.ong, but could ans,ver in the sanle language. So she asked the
peregrine ,vhat was the cause of her bitter sorrow. "r
as it death or
love assuredly these t,vo cause a gentle heart the greatest ,voe.
"C0111e do\vn frolll the tree, and tell lue your story, and, by God's
help, I 'will anlend your sad case, if it be possible." The poor pere-
grine, thus encouraged, dropped into Canace's lap, and told the gentle
lady ho,,, she had. been ,vooed. by a tercelet, l ,vho, by the most
specious prorl1ises of fidelity, had. won her heart, and after they had
lived together about t,vo years the false tercelet ,vent off one day,
sell me for a round sum of money, only take care not to part with the bridle,
for should you do so, I cannot conle back "-that is to say, he would not be
able to re-assume his own proper form. (See the chapter on Traus-
fornlatious" in 111y Popular lules anrl Fiction,>;, vol. i. p. 4 15 ff.)
John Lane, in his Oonti-nuation, descrioes the bridle of the Horse of
in his usual prosaic manner, as though it were llleant for the guidance and
control of a steed of flesh and blood, not of one cunningly contrived by
magic art:
Plaine was the bridle, of well ta'Ud leather hunger,
Buokled, to lett longe, short, not o'1'e or vnder;
The bitt, a canon by tt, of surest stuff,
Able to taIne the wildest colt in proof.
Howbeet so pleasaunt, after some whpe worne,
As with glad cheere and ease mote well bee borne.
'\Vhich held the curb, or water chaine so nye,
As co.old checke stumblinge, and teach renledy.
(P. 41, H. 271-278.)
Most assuredly--and most unhappily-John Lane was not" one whom the gods
had made poetical"! And he oeconles even nlore absurd when 1)e goes on to
describe the King's first trial of the Horse of Brass, which, according to him,
did not require to be moved by the TI1agic power of the bridle, for it came
through the air as Cambuscan and Canace were walking amid the daisies and
violets, and descending, of its own accord, stood before them a.s still- as any
stone, and so renlained until the LridJe was put Ol1-a piece of inconsistency
eminently characteristic of the anlLitious poetaster!
1 The tercelet is the nlale of the peregrine and, unlike the nlales of
most other species of anhllals, is snlaller and less coura.geous than the fetnale.
T 2
274 Magical Ele1nents in the Tale.
and had never returned, for he had taken up ,vith a nlere kite. l
The fair lady Canace ,vas touched to the heart by this sad recital,
and, carrying the poor forsaken peregrine home in her lap, salved
her self-inflicted wounds with balsamic herbs, and caused a mew 2 for
her to be made at her bed's head, covered ,vith blue velvet, in token
of felnale constancy, and the outside ,vas painted green, ,vith repre-
sentations of all kinds of false lllale birds. 3
But the" half told tale of Call1buscan bold" ,vas never finished.
In all likelihood Chancer reserved the relllaining part, of \vhich he
sketches the chief at the end of ' Paps Secunda,' as
cited-the very talc itself, in fact, for \vhut \ve have is Incl'ely intro-
ductory-for the Squire to relate on the return journey: the jolly
host of the' Tabard' having conditioned that each pilgrilll should
tell !'loo tales, one on the road to Canterbury, and one on the \vay
home. Had the poet completed his design, the Canie1'uury Tales
,vould have fornled a bulky volullle. That no Second Tales ,vere
ever \vritten by hinl is probable to the verge of certainty, since a
nunlbel' of the pilgrilns so graphically described in thc Prologue are
not assigned 'l'ales. 2 This vexatiously inconlplete state of the CanteT-
bury Tales induced an obscure monk (as the ,vriter appears to have
been), in the 15th century, to COlllpose The Tale of Beryn-based
upon the first part of the old French ro!nance, L'I£istoire dn Checalier
Bel'inus, etc.-as the Merchant's Second Tale, \vith a Prologue,
recounting" a Adventure of the Pardoner ,vith a Tapster at
Canterbury," ,vhich are found only in a unique J\fS. now in the
possession of the Duke of N orthulllberland, and were first in
Urry's edition of Chaucer's Works, published in 1721, and re-edited,
by F. J. Furnivall and W. G. Stone, for the Chaucer Society, in
1 i. e. their.
2 The Prioress' Chaplain, the IIaberdasher, the Carpenter, the 'Veaver,
the Dyer, the Tapister, and the Host. The Canon Yeoman has a Tale, but no
character in the genp,ral Prologue.-Warton (Hist. of English PoetJ·y) con-
sidet's Chaucer's plan of luaking the pilgrims relate stories on the road to
Canterbury as greatly superior to that of Boccaccio in his Decarme·l'on. This
nul.Y be so, yet it is not easy to understand how some thirty peri90ns on horse-
back could all hear the Tales, even if they alnbled along the road.
276 lJfagical JjJlmnents in tJie Sqnirc's Tale.
able 11lan than John Lane, in "whose" poen1 " the inlagjnative faculty
is conspicuous by its absence, the language is heavy and cun1brons,
and the rhythm and rhyn1e are often sinlply atrocious 7
a danlsel entered upon a bay horse, with a curling mane, and covered
,vith foanl, and the bridle and so much as was seen of the saddle
,vere of gold." 1
Stow, in his SU1·vey of London (first published in 1598), relates:
"In the year 1316 Edward 11. did solemnize the feast of Pentecost
at Westminster, in the great hall; where sitting royally at table
with his peers about hjm, there entered a woman adorned like a
minstrel, sitting on a great horse, trapped as lllinstrels then used, ,vho
rode round about the tables, showing pastime, and at length canle
up to the king's table, and laid before him a letter, and forthw'ith
turning her horse, saluted everyone, and departecl."2 According to
Perey, the letter was found to contain SOlne severe reflections on the
king's conduct, which greatly angered hiIn; and the ,voman, being
arre3ted his conllnand, discovered the author of the letter, who
acknowledged the offence and was· pardoned. But the doorkeeper,
being reprimanded on account of her admission, excused himself by
declaring that it had never been customary to prevent.the entry of
minstrels and persons in disguisements, on the. supposition that they
came for the entertainnlent of the king. This woman had probably
i
\vere also \yorn by the heroes of countless Asiatic and European talcs
and ronlances. Fortunatus had his wishing-cap; the" V bleur Avise,"
in the Breton tale, had his cloak; and the fakir, in the Hindu tale,
his bed; each possessing the like virtue. But the nl0st remarkable
"shoos of swiftness" vvere those ,ve read of in an Icelandic story,
'Nhich the heroine, by direction of an obliging giant, illude fro111 the
soles of her feet, flayed off by herself for this purpose, and which
took her speedily through the air and over the ,vater, as she pleased.
Next to "shoes of svviftness" occur Illost frequently in popular
fictions Magic Horses, \vhich are of tvYO kinds: those constructed of
\vood or metal, and those which are supposed to be of flesh and blood,
but have been "enchanted," and sonletin18s a steed of this second
kind proves to be a gallant young prince, thus transfornled by art
111agic; sonletimes it is a "de1110n horse," which is usually the offspring
of an ordinary mare and a stallion that periodically C01l1es out of
the sea.
The folk-lore of the Horse has not yet, I think, been treated
exhaustively, though 111uch has been said on the subject by Grinl111
and other conlparative nlythologists. In ronlantic fiction a hero is
abNays provided with a charger endowed with extraordinary qualities;
having alnlost hunlan 'intelligence and indonlitable courage; fre-
quently fighting for his n1aster, by tearing foes \vith his teeth and
crushing them under foot. Abjer, the famous steed of the Arabian
poet-hero Antar, was able, his master asserts in some of his spirited
verses, to do everything but speak; and other ,varrjors are represented
as holding conversations ,vith their chargers.
But "ve are chiefly concerned at present \vith such Horses
as that presented to Cambyuskan by the Indian alllbassador, )vho
thus describes its qualities:
"This steede of bras, that esily and wel
Can in the space of (, day naturel
(This is to say, in four and twenty houres),
vVher so yow lust, in droughthe or in schoures,
Beren your body into every place,
To which your herte wilneth for to pace,
vVithouten wem 1 of you, thurgh foul and fair.
Or if you lust to flee as heigh in th' air
1 lVmn = hal'ln.
1Jfagic HOTses, Cha1riots, &c. 281
As dotl! an eglA. whan hinl to sore.
same Hteede schal here you eyennOl'e
'Vithoute harn1, tU ye be ther yow
(Though that ye slepen on his bak or reste),
And torne agein, with wrything of a pyn."
We shall, presently, meet 'with very similar steeds, but the Horse of
Brass is unique, inaSlnuch as the rider has not only to " trille a pin,
stant in his ere," in order to cause him to ascend into the air, as is
the case of other ll1agic horses that figure in romantic fictions, but he
Dlust also tell the steed to " ,vhat countre he lust for to ryde," and
having reached the place, " bid hYln descencle," and "trill.e another
pyn." Surely here was the perfection of Inagical skill, to cudo·w· a
horse of brass with" a hearing ear and an understanding heart" !
skinned it, and said to nle: 'Take this knife \vith thee and intro-
duce thyself into the skin of the ranl, and we \vill se\v thee up and
go a\vay; whereupon a bird called the '?'uJfh vvill COTne to thee, and
taking thee up by its talons \vill fly a\vay with tl1ee, and set thee
down upon a 11lountain. Then cut opon the skin vvith this knife
and get out, and the bird 'will flyaway. Thou must arise as soon
as it hath gone, and journey for half a day, and con1e to a lofty
palace.'" 1'he adventurer does as they had instructed hinl, and in the
palace he finds forty be\vitching daU1sels. A.fter passing S0111e ti1116
in their society, they require to absent therl1selves for a season, and
before leaving give hirn the keys of the hundred roon1S, charging hinl
not to enter the r00111 that has a door of gold. But this he does,
irnpelled by fatal curiosity, and sees there a black horse saddled and
bridled. Leading the steed outside, he rnoullted hiln, but he rlloved
not a step, then he struck the steed, and as soon as he felt the blo\v,
he uttered a sound like thunder, spread a pair of 'wings, soared into
the air to a great height, and then descended on the roof of another
palace, \vhere he thre\v the rash adventurer from his back, and, by a.
violent blo\v \vith his tail on the face as he sat there on the roof,
struck out his eye and left hin1. 1
1 Lane's A1'abian Nights, vo1. i. p. 1G7 ff.
The device of being sewn in the skin of some animal, and carried to the
desired spot by a huge bird occurs in both Western and Eastern fictions. Thus
in the sixth tale of Laura Gonzenbaeh's 8ieilianische fiIii1'clwn, .Joseph, the
hero, is sewn up in a horse's hide, and taken by a great bird to the top of a
high mountain.-In Geldart's l/'olk-Lo1'e (!f Jl!{dm'n Greece, p. 88 (story of the
Prince and the Fairy), the hero meets a Jew, who tells him that he will find
game on the top of a neighbouring hill. The Jew sews him up in a buffalo's
skin, and ravens come and carry him off. On the top of the hill he finds no
game. The rascally Jew cries: "1'hrow Ine two stones and then I'll take you
down." He throws down the stones-pure diamonds-and the Jew then
off. In the sequel, the youth, of course, meets with good fortune.-In Camp-
belrs Popular of tIle l£i.qltZ{{;nds, No. 44, the \iVidow's Son is sewn
up in the skin of a cow and carried off by a bird to an island. Rabbi Benja-
lllill of Tudela writes that when sailors were in danger of being lost at sea near
Ohina, they sewed therneelves up in hides and awaited the griffin, 'who carried
thenl to land, believing them to be his natural prey.
In the great Indian story-book, ]{athd Sal''it Saga l' a" or Ocean of the
Rivers of Narrative (by SOInadeva, eleventh century, based upon the T0''i!ULt
I{at7ui, or Great Story, by GUl1hadhya, about the fifth century), an ill-used
yout.h, wandering in the wilderness, where no trees afford a frieno]y shade,
to escape frOln the oppressive heat, creeps into the skin of an elephant, the
jackals having cleared out the flesh. Presently rain falls in torrents; he is
lJ[agic IIo??ses, Cha1"iots, &c. 285
swept into the Ganges, and a monstrous bird carries ashore the skin and
begins to tear it open, and on seeing a man inside flies away.-Prof. 'C. H.
Tawney's, trans., vol. i. p. 77.
1 In the Greek luythology, as is "known to every schoolboy," Pegasus is
really a'demigod and inhabits Olympqs. Hesiod (Tlwogony, 281 fr.) tells us
of: his birth and ascent.
286 fi{agl:cal Ele7nents ·i11J the Sq1til"e's Tale.
But we have not yet done vvith the subject of nlagic horse.3 and
their congeners. It has been already rell1arked (p. 272, note) that the
bridle often plays a l1l0st iInportant part in 'with Inagic
steeds, and we have a rather singular exaIl1ple in a modern Albanian
folk-tale, vvhich is a variant of the charnling tale of the Jealous
Sisters, with which our. conlmon English version of the Arabian
Nights concludes. In this Albanian tale, tvvo children, a boy and a
girl, are thrown into a river in a box. They are rescued and brought
up by an aged couple. In course of tinle the old ,voman dies, and
Magic 287
soon afterwards the children's foster-father, feeling his end dra,ving
near, calls the youth to hilll and says: "!{n01v, my SOD, that in such
a place is a cave, where there is a bridle belonging to 111e. This bridle
I give thee: but be sure not to open the cave before forty days have
elapsed,1 if you wish the bridle to do ,vhatever you n1ay comllland."
After the expiry of forty days the youth goes to the cave, and having
opened it finds the bridle. lIe takes it in his hand and says to it,
"I \vant t,vo horses," and in an instant they appear before hiln.
Then the brother and sister mounted thenl, and in the t,vinkling of
an eye arrived in the country of their father, the king. 2
In a Hungarian tale, the hero, in quest of his three si8ters 'vha
had been carried off by deu10ns, receives from an ascetic a piebalu
horse, which he no sooner mounts than they are high up in the air
like birds, because the piebald \vas a magic horse that at all tin1es
grazed on the silken meadow of the fairies. 'fhe piebald, having
conducted him to the abode of the denl0n who had possession of his
second sister, is divested of his bridle, and then sets off alolle to seek
out the abode of the demon who had possession of his third sister.
By and by, when the hero ,vould continue his journey, " he shakes
the bridle and the piebald appears."3
Another wonderful steed occurs in a Russian tale. The adven-
turous hero having been caught trying to carry off an apple from a
golden apple-tree, he is to be pardoned and to have the coveted apple
to boot, if he bring the king the golden horse that can nlake the circuit
of the world in tvventy-four hours. His Inentor-a fox, to ,vit, whonl
he had refrained froll1 shooting at 'vhen he first set out on his travels,
and who is grateful therefor-tells hinl the horse is in the forest, and
there he 'will find t,vo bridles, one of gold, and the other of hemp;
he nlust be sure to take the hen1pen onc, else the horse ,vill neigh
1 1\1" uslims mourn for their dead during forty days.--For exan1p]es of the
superstitious veneration in which the number 40 is ,held by Orientals, espe-
cially Jews and l\1:uslims, see my Gl'OUp of EasteJ'n RO'Inanoes and Stories,
1889, pp. 140, 155, 188, 300, 456.
2 Contes Alhanais, recueillis et traduits pal' Auguste DOZOll, Paris, 1881 ;
No. I!.
3 Tlw Folk-Tales of tlte lJlagyars, translated and edited, with cOlnparative
notes, by Hev. W. Henry J ones and Lewis L. Kropf. Published for the Folk-
Lore Society, 1889. Pp. 289, 293.
LANE. U
288 J.11agical Ele1nents in the Sqni1?e's Tale.
and a\vake the guards. But, spite of this caution, he seizes the
golden bridle and is caught. The king tells hinl that he will get the
golden horse, if he bring to him the golden-haired virgin ,vho has
never seen sun or moon. The fox conducts hinl to a cave, \vhere he
finds the danlsel, but his four-footed mentor substitutes another girl,
'\vhonl the hero presents to the king, and thus he obtains for hinlself
both the golden-haired virgin and the golden horse. 1
In a modern Greek popular tale the hero is nlarried to a princess,
and sees one day in her hair a snlall golden key, ,vhich he gently
removes, and with it opens a closet, vvhere all is dark '\vithin, but he
hears cries and groans. Ho discovers a ring fixed in a slab of
Inarble, ,vhich he raises, vvhen out comes a hideous black figure on a
winged horse, '\vhich rushes into the chamber of the princess, who is
forthvvith ,vhisked a\vay. The hero sets out in quest of his princoss,
and learns that the ravisher is a very po\verful magician,2 and that
the only nleans of successfully coping with him is to obtain a ,vinged
horse: a neighbouring mountain gives birth to one every year; he
Inust wait vvith patience and fortitude, for there are many vvild
beasts roanling about the place. After forty days' quaking and
trernbling,3 the mountain is delivered of a winged horse, which the
bereaved hero bridles and 111ounts, and soon subdues. To be brief,
having ascertained \vhere the princess \vas confined, he carries her
off in safety, though hotly pursued by the nlagician on his winged
steed, for his o\vn young horse ,vas nluch the swifter of the t\vo. 4
Variants of the legend of St. George and the Dragon' are conlnlon
to the folk-tales of almost every country. In an Albanian talc
(Dozon's French collection, No. XIV.) a young girl, disguised as a
soldier, comes to a city "\vhere a la11'da had long preyed on the popu-
lation, and the king's son was about to be given up to the Inonster.
1 Several notable celestial chariots occur in Greek mythology, IJ. g.: that
of Ares (lVfars), in which Aphl'odite (Venus), his sister, when wounded by Dio..
lllCd, is carried to heaven, to recover; that of Here (Juno), which has six-
wheels of brass, with iron axles and silver naves, golden rails and
harness, in which she and Athene go do·wn to help the Greeks; Achilles'
fanl0US chariot, with its spealdng horses (Homer's IUad, v. 364 tr.; v. 720 ;
xix. 3D2 ff.).-In Ovid's J1Iet. vii. 218-236, 350, &c., we have accounts of
IVledeia's journeys in Hekate's nocturnal chariot; and in the sanle is a
grand description of the chariot of Phmbus, so luisused by Phaethon. And in
the Orphid llyrnns (No. 27) wo have the lion-drawn chariot of CybeIC, the
" lVlother of the Gods."
jJfagic ]lot'scs, Gha??iots, (f;c. 293
Rise into elevation, and display
branching shoulders; yonder streams, whose waters
Like silver threads but now were seen,
Grow into mighty rivers ;-10! the earth
Seems upward hurled by SOUle gigantic power. 1
MATALI.
"VeIl described! [Looking 1V'itlt a1ve.] Grand, indeed, and lovely is the
spectacle presen ted by the earth I
KING.
Tell me, l\1atali, what is that range of nlountains, which, like a bank of
clouds illumined by the setting sun, pours down a streaUl of gold? On one
side, its base dips into the eastern ocean, and on the other side, into the
western.
MATALI.
Great Pri nce, it is called the Golden Peak, and is the abode of the
attendants of the God of Wealth [i. 8. Kuvera]. 2
1 From these verses one might suppose that the great Indian dramatist
had himself been actually" up in a balloon," or some other kind of air-ship.
2 Sakoontala, or the Lost Ring. Translated into English prose and verse
by [SirJ IV[onier Williams. Hertford, 1858. Act vii. pp. 197-8.
3 The "auspicious" day--ay, and the precise hour of that day-for the
marriage would have been fixed, as usual, by an astrologer; and if the bride ..
groom did not make his appearance in time, the bride would probably have
been at once made over to another nJan. .
4 Cf. 2 Kings, ch. ii., v. 11: "And it came to pass, as they still went on
and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire and horses of fire,
and parted them both; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven."
294 }}!ag1:cal Ele'7nents in the Tale.
184, 185.
J.lfagic H01"ses, Cha1"iots, 295
The idea of the flying carpet in the Arabian tale n1ay have been
taken fronl this rabbinical legend, or fronl the fable of the throne of
J anlshid, one of the ancient (and probably Inythical) kings of Persia,
'v ho, anlong nlany other ,vonderful feats, is said to have ereeted a
throne of unparalleled lllagnificence, enlbellished with pearls and the
lllost precious genls, and having seated himself thereon, c0111manded
his subject demons (for, like SOI0l1l0n, he ,vas lord of men and of
demons) to raise the throne up into the air, and carry him wherever
he ch?se to go.
.A. DESIRE to pry into futurity, to get behind the veil, so to say,
which conceals COIning events-of which King Saul's traffic with
the 'Witch of Endor is an ancient and notable example-or to ascer-
tain what may be occurring at some distant place, has doubtless been
felt occasionally by the majority of 11len. It can hardly, howevel",
be supposed to have a firnl hold of any but minds Ul0re or less
tinctured with superstition, ,vhose general ignorance affords a willing
prey to charlatans pretending to be adepts in the so-called arts of
luagic and necronlancy. Chalc1ea was the land where nlagic flourished
pre-eminently in the days of the world's youth; and at the pi>escllt
day an unquestioning belief in the po,ver of magicians, geolnancers:,
exorcisers,,, and kindred inlpostors sways the minds of Asiatics C,vith
few exceptions), from the prince in his gorgeous palace to the poor
300 JJfagical Elcrncnts the /--'{qfliiTC'S Tale.
tllo?'ough tlJ;e llOlpe of the devyls of hell." (Title of the Douce 1\18.)
303
the Sal uacyon of the cytie of ROlne; and he 111ude in the compace all
the goc1des, that we call malnettes and Jfdolles, that were under the
Sllbiection of Ron1e; and euery of the goddes that there were had in
his hande a bell; and in the 11lydle of the godes lllac1e he one god of
R01l1e. And when soever that there was any lande wolde nlake ony
warre ageynst Ronle, than ,volde the godes tourne theyr backes
towarde the god of· Rome; and than the god of the lande that wolde
stande up ageyne Roule clynked his bell so longe that he hath in his
hande, tyll the senatours of ROllle hereth it, and forthwith they go
there and see what lande it is that ,vyll ,varre a gaynst thenl; and so
they prepare thelY1 and subdueth thenl."
John Lydgate, in his Bochcts-follo,ving Gervase of Tilbury, or
Alexander Neckham, perhaps-reproduces this story, in speaking of
the Pantheon:
vVhich was a tenlple of old foundation,
Ful of ydols, set up on hye stages;
There throughe the worlde of every nacion
Were of theyr goddes set up great ymages,
To euery kingdonl direct \vere their visages,
As poets and Fulgens by his live
In bookes old plainly doth descrive.
Every ymage had in his hande a bell,
As apperteyneth to every nacion,
vVhich by craft some tol{en should tell
vVhan any kingdonl ftl in rebellion, &c.
also made a fire in the open air, at ,vhich everyone might freely
warnl hinlself, and near it was placed a brazen archer, with ho'v and
arrow, and bearing the inscription, "If anyone strike me, I will
shoot lily arrow." One day a blockhead struck the archer, ,vho shot
him with his arrow and sent hilll into the fire, ,vhich instantly
disappeared.
Magical images are of frequent occurrence in Eastern r0111anCeS
and tales, l)ut their power is usually to be subdued by sonle simple
lneans, kindly COlll111unicated to the hero by an aged sage, desirous
of helping to a successful issue his perilous adventure. Thus in the
tale of "J tidal' of Cairo and Mahluud of ,ve have a graphic
description of the hall of an enchanter, ,vhich is guarded by t\VO
copper statues '\vith bo'ws in their hands; but" as soon as they take
aiul at you, touch their bows ,vith your s,vord, and they ,vill fall
from their hands." 1
In the Arabian tale of "The City of Brass" it is related that on
a high hill was a horsenlan of brass, on the top of ,vhose spear ,vas a
glistening head that alUlost deprived the beholder of sight, and on it
,vas inscribed, "0 thou ,,,ho comest unto l11e, if thou kno,veBt not
the ,vay to the City of Brass, rub the hand of the horselnan, and he
·will turn and then ,vill stop; and in whatever direction he stoppeth
thither proceed, without fear and \vithout difficulty; for it ,vill lead
thee to the City of Brass." And when the Elll1r 1Illsa had rubbed
the hand of the horseman, it turned like lightning and faced a differ-
ent direction froIn that in which they ,vere travelling. The shaykh
Abd es-Samad enters the city, and sees in the nliddle of one of the
gates a figure of a hOrSelllan of brass, having one hand extended as
though he ,vere pointing with it; and on the figure was an inscrip-
tion, which the shaykh read, and lo! it contained these vvords:
" Turn the pin that is in the llliddle of the front of the horscluan's
body twelve times, and then the gate ,vill open." So he exanlined
the horselnan, and in the place indicated was a pin, which he turned
twelve times, whereupon the gate opened imnlediately ,vith a noise
like thunder, and the shaykh Abd es-Samad entered. 2
1 Kh'by's N81V A1'abian Nfglds, not inoluded in Galla1ld or Lane, p. 215.
2 Lane's .il'rabian J\T/gIll s, vol. iii. pp. 119, 130, 131.
Magic Mi1'7'01'1S and I1nages. 305
1 Tlte Hystol'ye of Reyna'}'(l tlw Fowe (translated from the old Dutch
ReynaeJ't die Fos), printed by Caxton in 1481.
2 Jamshid is the Solomon of the Persians. He was, says Mirkhond,
"unrivalled and unequalled anlongst morta1s in perfection of understanding,
beauty of person, soundness of experience, and purity of morals. His sway
extended over the seven climes, and men and genii ,vere alike subject to his
power. He is said to have requested God that death, disease, and the infirm-
ities of age might be reuloved from among mankind; and, his prayer being
granted, not one individual in his kingdom was seized with any of these
calaluities during the space of three hundred years."
308 .lJlctgical in the Sq1ti1"e's Tale.
Canace's luagic glass and of the images and 111irror set up in Rome by
Virgil, which also gave notice of the advance of an eneIllY.
In Spenser's Faerie Queene, ]1. Ill. C. ii. st. 18-21, the Red
Cross Knight shows Brandonlart the irnage of Artegall in a magic
glass, and she instantly falls in love "\vith Artegall, as Eastern
princes-in stories-beCOIl1e desperately enamoured of beautiful
dall1Sels, frOIl1 seeing their portraits:
By straunge occasion she did him
And much more straungely gan to love his sight.,
As it. in bookes hath written beene of old.
In Deheubarth, that now South vValIs is hight,
What time King Ryence raignd and dealed right,
The great l\iagi tien Merlin had devizd,
By his deepe science and hell-dreaded nlight,
A Looking-glasse, right wondrously aguizd,l
Whose vertues through the wyde world soone were solemnizd.
It vertue had to shew in perfect sight
Whatever thing was in the world contaynd,
Betwixt the lowest earth and hevens hight,
So that it to the looker a,ppertaynd:
""Vhatever foe had wrought, or frend had faynd,
Therein discovered was, ne ought mote pas,
Ne ought in secret fron1 the same remaynd ;
}-"orthy 2 it round and hollow shaped was,
Like to the world itselfe, and seemd a World of Glas.
'Vho wonders not, that reades so wonderous worke ?
But who does wonder, that has red the Toure
"Therein th' Aegyptian Phao long did lurke
From all mens vew, that none might. her discoure,
Yet she might all men vew out of her bowre?
Great Ptolomree it for his Lenlans sake
Ybuilded all of glasse, by magicke powre,
And also it inlpregnable did make;
Yet when his love was false, he with a peaze 3 it brake.
Such was the glassy Globe that Merlin nlade,
And gave unto King Ryence for his gai'd,
That never foes his kingdome might invade,
But he it knew at home before he hard
Tydings thereof, and so them still debard :
It was a famous present for a prince,
And worthy work of infinite reward,
rrhat treasons could bewray and foes convince:
Happy this realme, had it remayned ever since!
l'ho l\foorish magicians, or necromancers, had, it is said, a
stone, to )vhich nlany strange properties ,yore since they
1 Accoutred-dressed. 2 Therefore. 3 vVith a violent blow.
Magic and Images. 309
T.llaintained that they could discover in it any scene they desired to
behold. Thonlson has introduced this magical 111irror in his Castle
of Indolence (Canto I. st. 49) :
One great aU1usement of our household was
In a huge crystal magic globe to spy,
Still as you turned it, all things that do pass
Upon this ant-hill earth; where constantly
Of idly-busy D1en the restless fry
Uun bustling to and fro with foolish haste,
In search of pleasures vain that from them fly,
Or which, obtained, the caitifl's dare not taste :
'Vhen nothing is enjoyed, can there be greater waste?
'This crystal globe was called the" l\firror of Vanity."-Piers Plo\v-
lHan, in his Vision, had also the privilege of looking into a sinlilar
luagic specultllll :
In a luirrour hight midle earth she made me loke,
Si then she sayd to me, "Here mightest thou se wonders."
on ,vhich Dr. Nash relnarks: "The poet nlight here ternl this stone
the 'devil's looking-glass' frorn the use which Dee and I{elly made
luau l takith his bo\ve, and ,voll schete att the ynlage.'
Thenne seilla
the clerk: 'Sir, as thou lovist thy lif, what tyme that he dra\vith
his bo\ve, bo\ve thyne hed vnder the watir. For if thou do not,
certenly thy ynluge shall be snlytene and thou both.' And when
the l{night sa\ve hiIn begynne forto dra\ve his bowe, he dyd as the
clerke conseiled hinl. And thenne seide the clerke: 'What seist
thon no\v , 'Jforsoth,' quoth he, 'no\v hath he schete an aro\ve at
the y111age, and for that he failith of his strook he l1lakith moch
soro,ve.' Thonne seide the clerke, 'Ye[a], that [is] goode tydyng
for thee. For if he had sn1yten the yl1lage, thou sholdist have i-be
dodo But loke no\v on the nlyrour, and tell nle \vhat thon seist.'
, N O\V he takith an other arowe and \voU schete agein.' 'Do, thenne,'
q uoth the clerke, 'as thou dyd afore, or ellis thou shalt be ded.'
And therfore the knight pntte all his hede vnder the \vatir. Ancl
\vhenne he had so y-done, he raisid it vp agen, and seyde to the
clerke: 'He nlakith soro\ve now nlore than ony nlan \voU trowe; for
he sroot not the ymage. And he cryed to Illy ,vif, seiying that "If
I fayle the third tyme I anl but ded my selfe, and thyne husband
shall lyve." And my ,vif lllakith therfor moch lanlentacion.' , Loke
agen,' seide the clerke, 'and tell 111e \vhat he cloth.' 'Forsothe,'
seide he, 'he hath bend his bo\ve and goith ny to the ynlage for to
shete, and therfor I drede no\v gretly.' 'Do, therfore,' seide the
cleTke, ' do as I bade doo afore, and dred the[e] nothyng.' So the
knyght, \vhenne he sa\ve the scheter dra\ve his bO'we, he s\vapte his
hed vndir the \vatir as he c1yd afore. And thenne he toke it vp agen
and lokid at the n1yrour, and he lough with a gret myrth. 'I sey,'
quod the clel'ke, ',vhi Iaughist thou soo l' 'For the archer ,voId
have y-schot at the yn1age, and he hath y-schotte hinl selie in the
lungen, and lyith elecl. And my ,vif ulakith sorowe \vith oute eude,
and ,yoU hyde his body by hire beddys syde.' , Ye[a], sir,' quod the
clerke, 'no\v thou baste thi lif savid, do yeld to Ule my nlede and
go; far\vell.' Thenne the knyght gaf hinl n1ede as he woll askeD
And the knyght went honl, and fond the body undir the bedde of
his wif, and he gcde to the l\feyre of the towne and told hiul hO'we
his \vif had don in his absence. Thenne when the Meyre and the
1 The mystery man ::=.: the lllagician.
Magic .J.l1ir'J"o'J"s and I1nages.
statys sa,ve this doyng they Inaue the ,vif to be slayne, and hire
herte to be departid yn to thre pal'teis, in tokne and emsampill of
veniaunce. And the good 11lan toke an othir ,vif, and faire endid
his li££e." 1
1 Ellis' Ol'iginal Ll3tters, 3rd Series, vol. Hi. p. 41, Letter 2GB.
2 Facsimile of the Arabic originals facing this page.
Afqpc//wOCctlUJ7t Otrum;
JeePwe3ZtJ.
.JJJ1.: r .., ;
..
' lJjt-f>'f.'l f
11/
1,.1:-':' 6) "',YI
. Il,p VI 1S}ob I' J.,a)a._t
.. . -
. <:; - ••
U/dJl!i7rur or
'l,
Jee.PtWe3ZL
'J
, r-
,,,
•
lANE
l 1\ I '1
lJ[agic llfi'r?'ors and 321
IIaving ,vritten these, the magician cut off the paper containing the
fo1'1118 of invocation fronl that upon \vhich the charm ,vas ,vritten,
and cut the Jormer into six strips. He then explained to 111e that
the object of the charm (,vhich contains part of the 21st verse of the
soorct 'l{af,' or 50th chapter, of the I{uran) ,vas to open .the boy's
eyes in a supernatural manner-to Inake his sight pierce into ,vhat is
to us the invisible ,vorld.
had prepared, by the 11lagician's direction, S0111e frankincense
and coriander seed-he generally requires sonle benzoin to be added
to these-and a chafing-dish ,vith SOlne live charcoal in it. These \ve:,c
no\v brought into the 1'00111, together ,vith the boy \vho ,vas to be,
enlployed: he had been called in, hy 111Y desire, froIn ulnong son1e
boys in the street, returning from a factory, and "ras about eight or
nine years of age. In reply to 111Y inquiry respecting the description
of pel'sons ,vho could see in the l11agic 111irror of i11k, the D1agician
said that they ,vere, a boy not arrived at a virgin, a black
fenlale slave, and a pregnant ,voman. The chafing-dish ,vas placed
before hinl and the boy, and the latter ,vas placed on a seat. The
ll1agician no\v desired l11Y servant to put 80111e frankincense and
coriander-seed into the ,chafing-dish; then taking hold of the boy's
right hand he dre,v in the pahn of it a nlngic square.! In the centre
he poured a little ink, and desired the boy to look into it, and to tell
hiln if he could see his face reflected in it. The boy replied that he
saw his face clearly. l'he magician, holding the boy's hand all the
"\vhile,2 told him to continue looking intently into the ink and not to
raise his head.
" He then took one of the little strips of. paper inscribed with the
form of invocation and dropped it into the chafing-dish upon the
1 Facsiuli1e of t,he nlagic square and mit·l'o\, of iuk is given along with that
of the incantation and charm, facing p. 320. The figures which it contains are
Arabic nunlerals; in our ordinary characters they are as follows:
r41912l
r---j--j--4
1315' 7I
;---1--;--4
I 8 ill 6 I
L-_-J_ _
It will be that the horizontal, vertical, and diagonal rows give each the
saUle sum. VIZ. 15.
2 ThiS·, says Lane, reminds us of aninlal rnagnetisln.
y 2
322 Mau'£cal Elelltents in the Squi1"e's Tale.
burning coals and perfulnes, ,vhich had already filled the 1'00111 ,vith
their sllloke; and as he did this he cOlnulenced an indistinct l11utter-
iug of words, ,vhich he continued during the ,vhole process, except-
i1lg when he had to ask the boy a question, or to tell hinl ,vhat he
,vas to say. The piece of paper containing the words fro 111 the
Kuran he placed inside the fore-part of the boy's tdkeeyeh, or skull-
cap. He then asked him if he sa,,, anything in the ink, and 'was
ans,vered 'No'; but about a' Ininute after, the boy, treulbling and
seenling nluch frightened, said: 'I see a ll1an sweeping· the ground.'
'vVhen he has done s,veeping,' said the magician, 'tell me.' Pre-
sently the boy said: 'He has done.' The nlagician again inter-
rupted his lllutte:dng to ask the boy if he kne,v what a beyra7c (or
flag) ,vas; and being answered' Yes,' desired hiln to say: 'Bring a
flag.' The boy did so, and soon said: 'He has· brought a flag.'
, What colour is it l' asked the magician. The boy replied:
lIe ,vas told to call for another flag, which he did, and soon after he
said he SU\V another brought, and it was black. In like manner he
,vas told to call for a third, four'th, fifth, sixth, and seventh, which
he described as being successively brought before hiln, specifying
their colours as white, green, black, red, and blue. The nutgician
then asked hinl (as he did also each tiule a ne,v flag ,:vas described as
being bronght): 'Ho'v 111any flags have you no\v before you The
boy answered: 'Seven.' )Vhile this was going on the ll1agician put
the second and 'third of the s111a11 strips of paper upon which the fornlS
of invocation and charm were ,vritten into the chafing-dish, and fresh
frankincense and coriander-seed having been repeatedly added the
fUInes became painful to the eyes. 'Vhen the boy had described' the
seven flags as appearing to him, he ,vas desired to say: 'Bring the
sultan's tent and pitch it.' This he did, and in about a lllinute after
he said: 'Some DleD have brought the tent-a large green tent ; -
they are pitching it;' and presently he adJed: 'They have set it
up.' , Now,' said the 11lagician, 'order the Boldiers to COllle, and. to
1 itch their calnp around the tent of the sultan.' 'fhe boy did as 110
was desired, and inllllediately said: 'I see a great nlany soldiers \\'ith
their tents ;-they have pitched their tents.' Ile ,vas then tolll to
order that the soldiers should be dra'vu up in ranks; and having
323
done so he said he saw thenl thus arranged. The
'lnagician had put the fourth of the little strips of paper into the
chafing-dish, and soon after he did the sanle ,vith the fifth. He now
said: 'Tell son1e of the people to bring a bull.' The boy gave the
order required, and said: 'I see a bull; it is red. Four men are
dragging it along, and three are beating it.' He ,vas told to desire
thenI to kill it, cut it up, put the nleat in saucepans, and cook it.
lIe did as he was directed, and described these operations as ap-
parently performed before his eyes. 'Tell the soldiers,' said the
magician, 'to eat it.' The boy did so, and said: 'They are eating
it ;-they have done, and are ,Yashing their hands.' The magician
then told him to call for the sultan, and the boy, having ,done this,
said: 'I see the sultan riding to his tent on a bay horse, and he has
on his head a high red cap. He has alighted at his tent and sat
'down ,vithin it.' thenl to bring coffee to the sultan,' said
the magician,.' and to fornl the court.' TheRe orders ,vere given by
the boy, and he said he sa\v thenl perfornled. The n1agician had put
the last of the six little strips, of paper into the chafing-dish. In his
111utterings I distinguished not.hing but the ,vords of the written
invocation frequently repeated, excepting on t\VO or three occasions,
,vhen I heard hh11 say, 'If they denland information, inform them,
and be ye veracious.' Bnt much that he repeated was inaudible, and,
as I did not ask hil11 to teach 111e his art, I do not pretend' to assert
that I anl fully acquainted ,vith his invocations.
"He now addressed hhnself to nle, and asked me if I ,vished the
,boy to see any person who ,vas absent or dead. I nalned Lord
Nelson, of whOlU the boy had evidently never heard, for. it was with
nluch difficulty that he pronounced the name after several trials.
The desired the boy to say to the sultan: 'My Inaster
salutes thee, and desires thee to bring Lord Nelson-bring hinl be-
fore nlY eyes that I may see hinl speedily.' The boy then said so,
and aln10st in1l1lediately added: (A messenger is gone, and has
returned and brought a man dressed in a black 1 suit of European
clothes: the man has lost his left arnl.' He then paused for a
1 "Dark blue is called by the modern Egyptians esrved, which properly
signifies blaclt, and is therefore so translated here."
324 jJ£agical Elc1nents in the Sqrnire's Tale.
nl0111ent or t,vo, and, looking 11101'e inteutly and nlore closely into
the ink, said: ' No, he has not lost his left arIll, but it is placed to
his breast.' This correction made his description nlOl'e striking than
-it had been ,vithout it, since Lord Nelson generally had his enlpty
sleeve attached to the breast of his coat, it ,vas the right ann
that he had lost. 'Vithout saying that I suspected the boy had
Illade a nlistake, I asked the Illagician 'vhether the objects appeared
in the ink as if actually before the eyes, or as if in a glass, 'vhich
Inakes the right appear left. He aIls,vered that they appeared as in
a l11irror. This rendered the descriptiun faultless. 1
"The next person I for ,vas a native of "Egypt ,vho had
been for nlany years resident in England, ,vhere he has adopted our
dress, and 'vho had been long confined to his Led by illness before
I elnbarked for this country. I thought that his nanle, one not very
unconlnlon in Egypt, nlight Inake the boy describe hinl incorrectly;
though another boy all a former visit of the ll1agician had described
this sanle person as ,vearing a European dress like that in which I last
sa\v hiln. In the present case the boy 'Here is a ll1an brought
on a kind of bier and wrapped up in a sheet.' 'This description
,vould suit, supposing the person in question to be still confined to
his bed, or if he be dead. 2 The boy described his face as covered,
and ,vas told to oruel' that it should be uncovered. This he diu and
then said: 'His face is pale, and he has moustaches, but no beard,'
,vhich is correct.
" Several other persons ,vere successively called for, hut the boy's
descriptions of thenl ,vere iIllperfect, though not altogether incorrect.
1 "vVhenever I desired the boy to call for any person to appear I paid
particular attention to the 111agician and to 'Oslllan [a friend]. The latter
gave no direction either by word or sign, and indeed he was generally unac-
quainted with the personal appearance of the person called for. I took care
that he had no previous comrnunication with the boy, and have seen the
experilnent fail when he could have given directions to thern or to the 11lagi-
cian. In short, it would Le difficult to conceive any precaution which I did
lIot take. It is important to add that the dialect of the nlagician was n10re
intelligible to 111e than to the boy. 'Vhen I understood hinl perfectly at once,
he was sOluetiules obliged to vary his words to 111ake the boy con1pl'ehend what
he said."
2 "A few lllonths after this I had the pleasure of hearing that the person
alluded to was in ootter health. 'Vhether he was confined to bed at the
tinlc when this experiment was perfornled I have not been aule to ascertain."
jJfagic J.lfi1"ro rs and Irnages..
f
325
He represented each object as appearing less distinct than the pre-
ceding one, as if IllS sight ,vere gradually beconling dim: he ,vas
a l1linute or 11101'e before he could give any account of the persons
he professed to see to,vards the close of the perfornlunce, and the
111agician said it ,vas useless to proceed ,vith hinl. Another boy ,vas
then brought in, and the nlagic square, etc. made in his hand, but
he could see nothing. The l11agician said he ,vas too old.
"Though cOlnpletely puzzled, I ,vas sOlne,vhat disappointed ,vith
llis perfornlances, for they fell short of ,vhat he had accolnplished in
lllany instances in presence of certain of nlY friends and country-
men. On one of these occasions, an Englishnlan present ridiculed
the perfornlance, and said that nothing ,vould satisfy hil11 but a cor-
rect description of the appearance of his O'Vll father, of 'Vh0111, he
,vas sure, no one of the cOlnpany had any kno,vledge. 'fhe boy, ac-
corJingly having called by llallle for the person alluded to, described
a nlan in a Frank dress, ,vith his hand placed to his head, "reariug
spectacles, and ,,,ith one foot on the ground, and the other raised
behind hinl, as if he ,vere stepping do\vn fronl a seat. The descrip-
tion w'as exactly true in evel'Y respect: the peculiar position of the
hand ,vas occasioned by an ahnost constant headache; and tllat of
the foot or leg by a stiff knee, caused by a fall frolH a horse in hunt-
ing. I am assured that, on this occasion, the boy accurately described
each person and thing that ,vas called for. On another occasion,
Shakspeare ,vas described ,vith the 1110st Ininute correctness, both as
to person and dress; and I might add several other cases in ,vhich
the sanle n1agiciall has excited astonishu1ent in the sober Ininds of
Englislnnen of lily acquaintance. A short tinle since, after perfornl-
iug in the usual l11anner by nleans of a boy, he prepared a magic
l11il'ror in the hand of a young English lady, ,vho on looking into it
for a little ,vhile said she sa,v a br00111 s,veeping the ground ,vithout
any body holding it, and ,vas so 111uch frightened that she ,vould look
no longer.!
1 Lane has relnarked that the 111agician's holding the boy's hand reminds
one of aninlal nlagnetisnl; and indeed in all cases ,vhere downright
is not practised, s0111etlting of this kind-hypnotislu, we call it nowadays--
shon1(} account for 1110st of such" manifestations," and this seems confirmed
by the fact that all boys or youths do not answer the purpose of the illagicians.
326 Magical Ele1nents in the Tale.
"I have stated these facts," adds Lane, " partly from my O\V11
experience and partly as they Callle to nlY knowledge on the authority
of respectable persons. The reader 111ay be teulpted to think that in
each instance the boy sa\v the inlages by some reflection in the ink,
but this was evidently not the case; or that he ,vas a 'confederate, or
guided by leadillg questions. l'hat there ,vas no collusion I satis-
factorily ascertained, by selecting the boy who perfornled the part
above described in IllY presence from a nUllbel' of others passing by
in the street, and by his rejecting a present which I afterwards
offered hinl with the vie,v of. inducing hilll to confess that he did not
really see \vhat he professed to have seen. I tried the veracity of
another boy on a subsequent occasion in the same lllanner, and the
result was the sanle. l'he experinlent often entirely fails, but ,vhen
the boy en1played is right in one case he generally is so in all: when
he gives at first an account altogether wrong the Inagician usually
disnlissps hinl at once, S'aying that he is too old. The perfunles, or
excited inlagination, 01" fear, may be supposed to affect the vision of
the boy "rho describes objects as appearing to him in the ink; but,
if so, why does he see exactly \vhat is required, and of \vhich
he can have had no previouS' particular notion Neit.her I nor
others have been able to discover any clue by ,vhich to penetrate
the mystery." 1
It is significant that in all experiments with the ink-lnirror the bo)' sees men!
or nlonkeys son1etimes, "sweeping the ground"; and whatever may be thought
of'the subsequent feats of the boy in the case related by Lane, it seems evident
that the rnagician's telling the boy what he is to order-such as "bring the
sultan's tent," "order the soldiers to come," "tell thenl to bring a bull," and
so on-would be sufficient to induce the boy, when his will was ullder the
n1agician's control, to hel ieve that he saw these orders executed; and I wU!Hll'l'
that Lane did not obgerve this circumstance. [Since the foregoing wag in
type, I have discovered, fron1 the appendix to later editions of 1Jfodel''/i
}lgypf'ians, that Lane was soon afterwards convinced that the whole exhibition
w"as a piece of trickel-y, in which his Anglo-Turkish neighbour 'Osman was
an accomplice of the magician, and he was well qualified to furnish the boy
with descriptions of Nelson, 8hakspeare, and the others. It would alnlost
seem that Lane was also deceived by the wretched nlummery of the '4 invoca-
tion and charm," cut into strips and burnt in a brazier, and the constant
nluUerings of the pre-tended sorcerer.]
1 A writer in Ta'i.t's 1JIagaz'ine for 1832, who professes to have
been present, gives an amusing account of a Inagician's attempt to exhibit his
art in Cairo. 1'he boy selected was a Christian, and apparently a 111 em her of
,the fanlily. The' incense, as usual, was thrown on the fire, while illcanfations
Magic Mirrrro'J"s and 327
vlhere much evil and no good dill he, I ,veen. And no,v Solomon
,vent about, a poor beggar n1an, ,vith a staff in his hand and bare-
footed; and his constant cry ,vas: "I, S0101non, ,vas once king over
Israe.l." Of course the folk thought hin1 a dell1ented creature-" a
puir daft auld Inan "-but, cOIning at length into Jerusalem, \vith his
usual cry, like the eternal" haqq! haqq!" of the rogues of dervishes
in the streets of Ispahan, some of the fathers and elders of the city,
reflecting that a fool is never constant in his tale, thought there
nlight be s0111ething in it, after all; 11101'e especially as he ,vho sat
on the throne \vas of late far fron1 being distinguished by virtuous
words and actions. So it was deterll1ined no\v to test him-for they
had begun to suspect that he ",Tas not \vhut he seemed to be-by
reading before hiln out of the Book of the La\v. But hardly had
two words been pronounced when Aschnledai, re-aRsuming his own
form, £levY a\vay \vith loud shrieks and yells-leaving the ll1ugical
signet behind hilll, we nlust suppose, for I rather think nothing is
said on this point. And thus did 80101110n regain his killgdoll1; and
doubtless he felt himself a better and wiser 111an fr0111 his experience
as a traInp.
The other version is to this effect: SolonIon having taken captive
in his ,vars the daughters of several idolatrous kings whonl he had
conquered, he selected the best-looking of thern, and placed them in
his hareDl; and as soon as he becanle weary of his latest favourite
he fell deeply in love \vith one of those daughters of the heathen:
surely no lllan had ever greater cause to cry out, as he did, " stay me
with flagons, cOlllfort nle ,vith apples, for I an} sick of love!" It
""vas not long before this dal1lsel (she was no "painted Jezebel," as
understand the ternl, be sure) got the upper hand of her royal
lover, and induced hinl to bow the knee to false gods. But Nelnesis
,vas at hand, in the forlll of a rebellious de1110n nanled Sakhr, ,vho
had, for some tiu1e, been lurking unseen about the harenl cha111bers,
\vatching for his opportunity, ,vhich came one day, even as retribu-
tion Inust, sooner or later, conle upon all evil-doers. One morning
Solomon, before going to the bath, gave his signet to this Moabitish
\voman (or ,vhatever she 1l1ay havc been) to keep fOF hinl. Mean-
vvhile the de1l10n Salehr assulned the £orn1 of Solomon and sat on his
.lJlrtgic Rings and 337
throne; and \vhen the king came forth froIll the bath, behold, his
appearance ,vas so changed that nobody recognized hiln-in fact, as
toe say, "his nlother wouldn't have kno\vn hinl "-and so he was
igllolnilliously driven out of the' city. The legend goes on to say
that Sololnon ,vent into a far distant land and took service vvith some
fisherIllen, his daily ,vages being t\VO fishes. N O\V it, so fortuned
that as he 'was cleaning his fish one evening he found his o,,,n signet
in the ma\v of oue of thenl j and we may ,veIl suppose that he did
not take the trouble to fornlally " resign his situation," but ,vent off in
hot haste to the Holy City,! where he learned (his proper appearance
being now restored) that Sakhr's doings at length had beC0111e so
intolerable that he had been tested ,vith the Book of the Law and at
once flew a,vay. Solomon doubtless readily guessed that the detected
demon had thrown the signet into the sea, \vhile still" pricked in
conscience" (if we might think such a thing possible) by having
heard a fevv of the holy ,vords pronounced; and that the fish ,vhich
had so luckily swallowed the glittering ring kne\v full well \vhat and
\vhose it ,vas, and paddled off at top-speed to the waters in vvhich
the royal fisher daily cast his net, into \vhich it \vent, of its own
accord, of course. If Solomon did not guess all this, I do, and I
think it quite as vvorthy of credence as \vhat goes before it.-.A.nother
version of this version has it that Sulon1on, in the course of his
\vanderings, eloped \vith a pretty young princess, and becan1e a cook,
,vhen he found that thoy couldn't live solely on love; and that it
was vvhile dressing some fish for his 111aster's table that he found his
signet. But-n'i11'L1JOrte !-" either ,vay vvill do " 1
And now ,ve have done \vith the \vondrous Ring of Solonlon, the
inlportance of \vhich in ronlantic fiction 111ight, perhaps, sufficiently
justify the foregoing notes and cOlnUlents, even did not our Chaucer
hinlself specially refer to it, in connection \vith the lady Canaec's
Ring, in these words:
The virtue of the so-called Ring of 1\1:oses ,vas that, when it ,vas·
drawn on anyone's finger, he at once forgot his love, and in fact
everything, hence it ,vas called the Ring of Oblivion-a useful article
to have about one, I think, in these days of "fierce unrost," when
the pleasant things nlost of us can renlenlber are so few that their
loss would be anlply compensated by the relief it would afford froll1
the incursion of sad and bitter-ay, and s0111etillles hUluiliating-
11lenlOries. It l11ay be objected that the consequence of an application
of 1\10ses' Ring -vvould be that one should then lose the "conscious
continuation of his identity," but ,vould not that be a great benefit to
lUany of us 1 Is it not in that sanle " continuation of identity" that
our 8elf-love has its existence 1 Self-love is a good thing only ,,,hen
ilfagic .Rings and 341
\ve have learned to " love our neighbours as ourselves." But let this
pass, and pass \ye on to our proper business.!
Besides the Ring \vith the lnaking of \vhich Moses was credited
in Inedireval tin1es, it ,vould seenl that 11lany other rings possessed the
quality of causing the o\vners to forget just \vhat they should have
best relnen1bered, as. soon as they parted \vith thenl. Reauers
familiar \vith European folk-tales \vill recollect numerous instances
of a young prince-in popular tales the hero is usually either a
young prince or a young pauper-having, in the course of his
adventures, becon1e enallloured of sonle pretty little 11laid, and, on
leaving her to retnrn h0111e, giving her his ring as a pledge that he'd
C0111e back soon and nlarry her; and how he forgot the little 11laid
the monlent he stepped over his father's threshold, and \vas actually
seated at table beside another bride (their nuptials not having yet
been solenlnized, ho\vever), \vhen the forgotten little lllaid, \vho had
procured s01l1ething to do in the palace-kitchen, contrived to drop his
O\Vll ring into his cup of \vine, and so forth. It is true that some-
tinles the Inaid stipulates that her lover should kiss no person as he
enters his hon1e, othervvise he'd forget her altogether, but generally,
I in1agine, the ring has some\vhat to do with the forgetfulness.
Not to nlultiply instances of this kind of " oblivion," I shall only
refer to the plot of the celebrated IIindll drallla of Sakuntald, \vhich
turns upon a lost ring. The raja Dushnlan ta, while hunting, is
separated frolll his attendants, and falls in love with a beautiful
Inaiden, called Salnintahl, who has been brought up in the forest by
a holy luan. The king marries her by ,vhat is knovvn as the
Gandharva form, in \vhich the usual ceremonies are dispensed \vith,
and 'v hen his attendants at last discover him, before returning to
his capital he gives her his signet-ring. But he totally forgets this
n10st interesting episode for years: Sakun tala has' lost the ring, and
1 I cannot help here remarking, however, that perhaps many a man might
find something Inore practicable than Rings of Oblivion and Magic lVIirrors were
he to try to follow the counsel of the great American poet: "Look not lllourn·
fully into the It comes not back again. Wisely improve the Present.
I t is thine. Go boldly forth into the shadowy Future, without fear, and with a
Inanly heart."
342 JJlagical in the Tale.
when she presents herself, with her child, before hilll, he does not
recognize her. One day a large rohita fish is brought to the palace,
and the cook in cutting it open finds the royal signet in its inside,
and sends it to the raja, who instantly recollects the forest adventure,
and sending for the fisherman. ,vha had brought the 1 Ohitct, he fO
questions him regarding the ring. The poor lllan, of course, kno\vs
nothing about it-an he could say was that having caught a very
fine rohita, he deenled it fit only for the royal table. In the sequel
Sakuntula is united to Raja Dushulanta. 1
safety; but the king takes a violent fancy for the spot, and builds a
palace and ten1pIe there, and there spends the rest of. his life.
Hatiln Tal, the generous pre-Ishtmite Arab chief, having slain a
lTIOnstrous dragon, took fronl its head a gelu 1 "\vhich had several
marvellous virtues: it could cure the blind; confer profound wisdom
and boundless wealth; secure victory in battle; and cause its pos-
sessor. to be loved alike by friend or foe.
In the Indian story-book Sinhdsanrt DUJatrinsati (or rather in
its Hind! fornl, Sinluisan Bcdtisi), Vikramaditya, on taking his
conge from Sheshanaga, king of the infernal regions-a very pleasant
place, according to the description given of it in the tale-whom he
had been visiting, is presented vvith four gems. "One of these,"
said I{illg Sheshanaga, "will produce at a 1110nlent's notice any
ornaments you may desire; the second, elephants, horses, and palan-
quins; by llleans of the third you may obtain "\vealth to any extent;
and the fourth will assist you in offering prayer and in practising
virtue." Vikranut then SUlllllloned his attendant demons-for, like
8010111011, all sorts of demons were at his cOlllmand-who conveyed
hhn back to his own country; and when ,vithin about two n1iles
of his capital he dislllissed them and continued his journey on
foot. Meeting with a poor Brahman ,vho asked alms of him,
Vikrtuna said: "0 venerable you may have your choice of
any of these four gems," and then he explained their respective
qualities. The Brahlllan replied that he should like first to go hon1e
and consult his family. So he went home, and Vikran1a waited his
return. The Brahman infornled his wife, son, and daughter-in-la"v
of the properties of the four je,vels. His 'wife advised hinl to choose
the one that supplied DIoney, for ,vealth brings friends, learning,
piety, nlerit, and charity. 2 The son ,vould have hinl choose the
stone that bestowed dignity and faille. The daughter-in-law pre-
ferred the genl that furnished ornanlents. Then said the Brahman:
1 The notion that dragons and serpents have valuable gems in their heads is
commonly held throughout the East at the present day, and was 011ce also
general throughout Europe.
2 Is not this meant to be sarcastic Certainly, in one sense, "he who has
wealth has relations; he who has wealth has friends; he who has wealth is a
very sage t
)J
344 J1fagical Ele1liJents in the Tale.
" Yon are all very foolish. I \vill choose the gelll \vhich \vill assist
111e in my devotion"; and returning to the raja he told. hilll how his
fanlily could not agree upon the particular genl to be selected. Vik-
rcllna then gave all the four genls to the poor Bralnnan, \vho blessed
him and \vent a\vay.l
In the Japanese ronlance of The Old of the tenth
century (translated by IVIr. li-'. Victor Dickins), ,ve read of a dragon
that has in its head" a jewel, rainbow-hued, and he ,vho shall \vin it
shall want nothing that he lnay desire." And in Mr. Mit.ford's
Tales of Old Japan, Little Peachling finds ulllong the treasures in
the ogres' castle "genls which governed the ebb and flo,v of the
til1e."-In the Romance of Ta'i, there is mentioned a stone
\vhich, bound on the arnl, enabled one to see all the gold and silver
and gems hidden in the bowels of the earth. And, coming back to
Europe at a single bound, in one of the Early English versions of tl1e
Gesta ROma?lOrU1n, a pOOl' faggot-nlaker is re\varded by a grateful ser-
pent, whom he had succoured, with a stone of three colours, which,
he ,vas infornled by the "stoner" (or je\veller) to whonl he sub-
11litted it, possessed three virtues, "bestowing evernlore joy without
heaviness, abundance \vithout fail, and light without darkness."
Bnt the" stone of three c?lours" (probably nleaning, three stones
of different colours) \vhich ,vas set, in the ring of Reynarc1 the Fox,
and the loss of which he laments, was endowed \vj th a greater
variety of useful qualities than a round dozen of any other genls
eOlnbined. He declares that he possessed "a rynge of fyn golcle,
ano. ,vithin the rynge next the fyngre \vere ,vreton lettres enanleld
sable and asure, and ther \vere thre hebre,vs nanles therin."
Reynard could not read or spell. them, but a "je\v, IVlaister Abrion,
of Tryer, a \vyse man ... albeit he beleueth not 011 God," 2 to \Vh0111
he showed the ring, told him they were the three nunles that 8eth
It woulu occupy too much space and time to discuss the subject
of snake-gems-a survival, undoubtedly, of the serpent cult, which
at one period prevailed all over the world. In European folk-tales,
as "veIl as in Asiatic fictions, the hero is often represented as saving a
snake from being burned or frozen to death, and obtaining as a re"vard
a stone or gem which works wonders. l\tlost of the astonishing
achievements of Aladdin's La1np are in other talcs, both Vlestern and
Eastern, performed by a snake-stone, though the gem is not always
bestowed by a serpent. In the Talnil romance translated by Pandit
Natesa Sastri, under the title of Dravidian Nights'
a fortunate youth obtains from an ichneulTIon, whom he had fostered
for sonle tilne, a ring, \vhich he has only to put on his finger and
\vish for anything, when it will instantly appear before hinl. By the
power of this ring, a vast city is raised up in the heart of a jungle.
Variants of this tale are found in the Burnlese story-book, the Decisions
of Princess Tlzoo-Dha1n1na Tsari,' in the I{alnluk Relations of Siddhi
Kur; in No. 10 of M. Dozon's Contes Albanais, and several other
collections. In nlany of the stories of this class the hero's talisman
is stolen £ronl hin1, and, like Aladdin when the African magician
exchanged "new lamps for old " to his o"vn advantage, the palaces,
&e., at once disappear, but, by the help of three, grateful animals,
who are attached to the hero from his kindness towards them, the
wonder-working stone is ultimately recovered.-Here I conclude my
notes on luagic rings and gems in general, and proceed to the subject
'w hich is more especially suggested by the peculiar virtue of the lady
Canace's ring.
348 JJfagical Elc'7lLcnts in the sTale.
THE third gift 'which the Indian alnbassador presented fr0111 his
royal l1laster, "the king of Araby and Illd," vvas the golden Ring
which, at his unexpected entrance on horseback into the banqueting
:pall, he was observed to ,veal' on his thUlllb, as usual; and, having
disposed of the previous tvvo gifts, he thus goes on to describe its
qualities:
"The vertu of this ryng, if ye 'wol hO:'ro,
Is this, that who so IU8t it for to "'ore
Upon hir tho111b, or in hir pUTS to bere,
TheI' is no foul that fieeth undt:l' the heven,
That sehe ne sel1al unc1oI'stonden his steven,
And know his 11lenyng openly and pleyu,
And answer hirn in his langage ageyn.
And every gras that groweth npon roote
Behe sehal eek know, to whon1 it wol do boote,
Al be his ",·ouudes never so deel) and wyde."
though they are of Intlian origin; at all events, the Arabs thelllsclves admit
IULYing obtained tlwrn fronl India.
of A 351
quoth William Cowper.-The origin of the Beast-Fable is still a
vexeclquestion. Some will have it that it was at first adopted as a
safe vehicle for conveying reproof or advice to despotic princes, who
were not likely to submit to be lectured in plain "langna.ge. Others,
again, are of the opinion that it had its source in-or 'was suggested
by-the belief in"metempsychosis, or the nligration of the soul after
death into another body; not al\vays, or 'perhaps frequently, again'
into hunlan form, burinto that of some beast, bird, or fish. Thus a
jackal, at present, nlay have been in a former state of existence, or
"birth," a prince; and a prince, at present, may have been a poor'
labourer, or a cat, dog, horse, bull, peacock, tortoise, and so on. This"
theory seenlS to be supported to SOlne extent by the fact that the
allinlals who figure in the Indian lfables discourse like good Hindlls,
talk of saying their prayers, of obligatory bathing, and of being ,veIl
versed in the Vedas and other sacred books. That is to say, they do
not talk as cats, mice, frogs, &c. might be supposed to think-allow-
ing theln to be capable of thinking and reasoning-but rather like
sages. This ,vill appear as no inconsistency to the ordinary Hindll.
nlind, ,vhile the contrary would be so considered; for the cat or the
nlouse is understood to be a human being rc-born in that aninlal
forl11, and therefore capable of thinking as he did in a previous birth.
And the Hindll. entertaining such a belief nlust also believe that the
different kinds of beasts and birds he sees every day possess a lan-
guage whereby they communicate with each other, though, as the
Esthonian song says, fe,v men can understand thelll. \Ve very fre-
quently find in Indian story-books 111en nlentioning, among the rare
acco111plishments ,vhich they possess, a knowledge of the languages
of birds and beasts-see, for example", Tawney's translation of the
Kathd Scn-';t Sagara, vo!. i. p. 499, and lJassi'ln.
In romantic fictions, and in our ordinary household or fairy
tales, the hero is conlmonly represented as being perfectly fanliliar
with the speech of beasts and birds, and the acquirenlent stands him
in good stead many a tinle and oft; for by overhearing their con-
versation he is enabled to escape dangers, or to achieve the object on
,vhich he is bent. Birds, especially, are very" kno\ving," doubtless
in consequence of their long" excursions to far distant lands, '\vhere
LANE. AA
3Ej2 Magical Ele1nents in the :Pale.
they see and hear all kinds of strange things, and on their return
h01ne they freely C01111ilunicate their tidings to each other. A few
exalnples ,vill perhaps suffice for the general reader-those ,vho are
familiar with European and Asiatic folk-tales need none of the
infornlation that I can impart, so they will pardon nle if 'what I no,v
have to say is to thenl a "t\vice-told tale," as it is intended for such
as are not so 'well acquainted vvith the subject.
The earliest eXRtnple at present kno\vn of men being falniliar
,vith the speech of aninlals is found in the Egyptian r01nance of t\VO
brothers, Anapu and Satu, \vhich is contained in one of the Hieratic
papyri preserved in the British 1\;1USeU111, and 'was ,vritten 1110re than
three thousand years ago. vVhen the younger brother is about to
stall tllC oxen for the night, one of the aniruals ,yarns hiDl that
Anapu iR lurking behind the dOOI; ready to slay hinl ,vhen he should
enter, and Satu is convinced of his brother's l11urderous purpose
'when he looks underneath the door and discovers his feet, and then
flees for his life.
In the 1'alnil romance, .1Jfadana-I{arnara}a17kadai, translated by
1\fr. Natesa Sastr! under the title of the DTavidian Nights' Entertain-
?nents, the prince and his cOlllpanion-the latter being the 1"0(1,1 hero
-returning to their own country, encamp for the uight under a
banyan-tree, and all are asleep save the ever-,vatchful friend of tho
prince, "vho hears a pair of o,vls conversing. Said the male bird:
"lYfy dear, the prince who is encanlpec1 uncleI' our tree is to die
shortly by the falling on him of a big branch ,vhich is about to
break." "And if he should escape this calanlity quoth the
female. " Then," said the other, " he \vill die to-1110rrOW, in a ri vel',
in the dry bed of 'v hich he is to pitch his tent: ,vhen rrlidnight
C0111eS a heavy flood ,vill rush down and carry hinl a,vay." " 13ut
should he also escape this second calamity said the "Then
he ,,,ill surely die by the hands of his ,vife vvhen he reaches his own
city." cc And should he escape this third calalnity also " l\fy
dear love," answered the Inale bird, " he cannot escape it; but if he
should do so, by any chance, then he 'will reign as king of kings for
11l1ndreds of years," adding that anyone who happened to kno,v this
secret and revealed it, his head should instantly burst into a thousand
Language of 353
pieces. The 11linister's son at once rel1loved the sleeping prince to a
spot far flonl the tree, and scarcely had he done so when. a branch
of the tree broke 1vith a crash that aroused all the arlllY as ,veIl as
the prince, ,yha " Surely I ,vas sleeping in the very teut
,vhich that branch has crushed 1 IIo\v was I removed hither 7"
The minister's son sinlply said, "I heard the noise of the breaking
branch and rell10ved you out of danger." The following night ,vhen
they reach the bank of a river-bed, all prefer to encamp 011 the bank
but the prince, ,vho insists on having his tent pitched in the dry
bed of the river. At lllidllight the 11linister's son heard, yet afar off,
the rushing sound of the ,vaters, and rellloved the prince 011 his
couch to a place of safety; he saves his nlaster fronl the third
calanlity, but I have no space here for the details.
In the Danish tale ,vhich recounts the adventures of Svenu
(Thol'pG's Yule-Tide Slories), just as the hero is falling asleep, t,velve
cro,vs COlne and perch on the elder-trees over his head. They began
to converse, and one told another ,vhat had happened to hhn that
day. vVhen they \vere about to flyaway again, one cro\v said, " I
aln ·so hungry, "where shaH I get sOlllething to eat The crow's
brother ans\yered, ""Ve shall have food enough to-morro,v, \vhen
father has killed Svelld." Quoth another, "l)ost thou think that
such a nliserable fello,Y \vill dare to fight ,vith our father " Yes,
it is likely enough that he \vill; but it \vill not profit hiu1 much,
since our father cannot be overCOlue but with the l\fan of the Moon's
s',vord, and that hangs in the nl0und, \vithin seven locked doors, before
each of which are t,vo fierce dogs that never sleep." Svend thus
learned that he should be si111ply sacrificing his strength in
iug a contest \vith the dragon before he had Inade hill1s.Jf l1laster of
the Man of the 11oon's sword, which he obtains by 111eans of a finger-
stall that rendered him invisible, and with that irresistible blade he
sle\y the Ulonstrous dragon.
Prince Taj ul-1fuluk, the hero of the charming rOl1lanCe of the
Gul-i-Bakctu)(di (or Rose of in \vandering through a forest,
clinlbs into a tree at night to secure hilnself fronl \yild beasts. In the
tree a rncl'ina (or hill-starling) had her nest, and he heard her little ones
ask her what treasures there ,vere in the jungle. She replied.: "As
AA2
354 Magical Elernents in the Sqlltire's Tale.
you proceed to,vards the south there is on the edge of the lake a troe
of enorlnqus growth. Anyone placing a piece of the bark of that tree
on his head will become invisible to all, while everything is visible
to hilll; but no person can go to that tree, because it is guarded by a
huge dragon, which neither svyord nor arrow can ,vound." l'ho
young ones inquired, "Hovv then could anyone reach there "
The lnaina ans,vered, "If a courageous and prudent nlan should go
to the border of the lake, he 11lUst leap into it, when the dragon vvill
attack hinl, and he will be changed into a raven, and lll11st then
place himself on one of the western branches of that tree, ,vhere he
will find green and red fruits. Should he eat one of the red fruits,
will regain his original form; and by eating a green fruit he ,vill
beconle invisible; and by placing one in his girdle he can travel
through the air. The leaves will heal ,vounds, and its "rood will
open the strongest locks and break the strongest bodies." It is need-
less to say that the hero took care to profit by this inforluation. 1
In Miss :Frere's Old Deccan Days, the raja Vikranl is suffering
great pain in consequence of a cobra having crept into his throat
,vllile he slept. His bride overhears sonle cobras talking, one of
vvhich tells the others that if certain lluts are pounded and nlixed
'with cocoa-nut oil, set on fire, and burned beneath the raja, the cobra
,vould be instantly killed and drop to the ground. Moreover, if the
sanle were done at the nlouth of his hole, he, too, vvould be killed,
and then they lllight find the treasure he guards. Of course, the
raj tt is cured and the treasure gained.
The story of "The Three Cro'\Vs" (in Grhnlu's collection) ll1ust
be very generally InlO\Vn: how a poor solJier, who had been robbed,
and beaten, and blinded by his conlrades, and then left at the
gallows-foot, fast bound, overheaTd three crovvs, perched high on a
neighbouring tree, talking together. One said that the king had
voV\red to marry his daughter to the Juan \vho should cure her of the
111ala(ly £1'0111 ,vhich she suffered, and that the remedy vIas burning a
blue flovver and giving her the ashes in water; the second, that such
a dew 1vonld fall that Sa1110 night, which applied to a blind n1all's
eyes ,vould restore his sight; and the third told ho'v the great dearth
1 Clouston's Grronp of .EastC1'n Rornances and Stories, p. 298.
Lang·uagc Dj Anirnals. 355
of ,vater in the city could be rell1edied. The poor fellow bathes his
eyes in the de wand gets back his sight; he cures the princess and
finds the ,vater. His conlracles after\vards learn from hinl the cause
of his good fortune, and go to hear what the crows next ta.lk about,
but they pick out the rascals' eyes, believing it was they who had
learned their secrets. This story is ,vide-spread, and for Norse, Por-
tuguese, N ol'th African, Siberian, Arabian, and Persian versions, I
refer the reader to ll1y POJyltlar Tales and Fictions, vol. i. p. 250 if.
The COn11110n saying" as 1l1ute as a fish" is ignored in folk-tales,
\vhich, like fables, are superior to the so-called "facts" of natural '
history. Everybody ren1en1bers the witty retort of poor Goldy-one
of the very fe\v, by the ,vay, that prejudiced Boswell has recorded of
the genial lrishl1lan-to the burly Doctor ,vhen he said it was no
difficult 11lutter to \vrite fables-" Don't say so, Doctor," cried Goldy;
" for were you to \vrite a fable about little fishes, you'd ll1ake 'en1
talk like whales."-Grateful fishes often figure in folk-tales, as well
as beasts and birds: in Indian stories this is natural enough) as I
have already explained (p. 351), and when ,ve meet ,vith instances
of 8jJeakiug fish in European fictions we 11lay be pretty sure they are
of Asiatic extraction. There need, ho\vever, be no doubt of this in a
Hungarian tale, in which the hero (Pengo) sees in a pool a small
golufish lalllenting. "'''hat ails you " "Ah, the river beyond
there lately overflo"\ved its banks. I s,vam out beyond the banks
and did not get back soon enough; and when this little pool dries
altogether I must die." " Not so," quoth the prince, "I ,vill take
you back to the river." "Good youth," said the fish, "take one of
nlY scales, and "\vhenever you are in need breathe on it and I shall be
at your side." 1
The prilue nlinister of a raja took into his 'service a poor fool \VhOnl
he found sitting by the side of a village road. Sonle tinle after this,
a pair of birds had built their nest in the ll1inister's garden, and
one day the hen sa\v another hen ,valking about '\vith her ll1ate.
She said angrily, "Leave her alone." l'he cock said, "Both of you
can be my \vives and live ,vith me." The hen diu not approve of
this; and a great dispute arose, and at last all three \vent before the
raja to have the matter settled, and \vhen the court \vas closed they
flew a\vay. l'hus they continued to come and go for t,vo or three
days, and then the raja asked the minister \vhat vvas the reason of
their coming. lIe replied, that he had not the least idea. The
raja said, "If you can tellIne to-IDOl'rO\V, good; if not, I 'will cut off
your head." The Ininister ,vent into his garden, and sat thinking,
\vith his head between his hands. The fool, seeing his nlaster's
dejected appearance, asked ,vhy he ,vas so distressed; but he
uns\vered nothing, till the fool continued to ask hilll in such a
dctCl'111ined \vay that he could not help telling hilll the royal corn-
Inand. "Is this the reason you are so distressed said the fool.
"I understand \vhat the birds arc saying." And then he told his
lllastel' the \vhole story of their quarrel, adding, "If the raja decides
that both the hens shall continue to live \vith the cock, then sho\v
t\VQ fingers, and they ,vill fly a\vay; but if it be decided that he is
only to live 'with his \vife, then sho\v one finger, and one bird \vill
iuul1ediately fly a\vay, and a little tinle after the pair of birds "rill
fly together." The minister was delighted to hear all this, and next
day ,vent early to the durbar, and found that the birds ,vere already
cOlne, and ,vere sitting there. The raja said, "To-day the case of
the birds \vill be tried. "That is their cOlllplaint 1" Then the
11linister told hiln 'what he had heard froIn the 1110Uth of the fool,
and he ,vas luuch astonished, and decided that the cock should have
but one wife. So the nlinister held up one finger, and il1l1nediately
one of the birds fle\v a\vay, and a short tiU1C after the two others
362 Magical in the Tale.
,vent off together. The case being, thus decided, the court ,vas
closed, and the raja thought the nlinister's conduct praiseworthy.!
ibn Hemdem, Khetkhoda, in the tinle of Murad, the fourth Ottonlan sultan
(A. D. 1623-1640); translated by J. P. Brown, under the title of T'l(/rkish
Evening Entertainnwnts, New York, 1850; ch. xxiii.
364 JJfagical Ele?nents in the Tale.
at night they arrested the assassins. The treasurer was so grateful
to the youth that he wished to give hilu his daughter, but he replied
that he could not relllain no,\y, but he ,vould return ,vithin a year
and three days.
After he left that castle he arrived at a city,vhere the king's
daughter was very ill, because the frogs which ,vere in a fountain
near the palace gave her no rest \vith their croaking. The lad per-
ceived that the frogs croaked because the princess had thro'wn a
cross into the fountain, and as soon as it was renloved the girl
recovered. The king, too, wished the lad to nlarry her, but he again
said that he ,vould return ,vithin a year and three days.
On leaving the king he set out for ROlue, and on the ,vay he nlet
three young men, ,vho becanle his conlpanions. One day it ,vas very
warlU, and all four lay down to sleep under an oak. Presently a
great flock of birds fle\v into the oak and a,vakened the piIgrin1s
by their loud singing. One of thenl asked, ""Vhy are these birds
singing so joyfully The youth ans,verec1, "They are rejoicing
,vith the new })ope, ,yha is to be one of us." And suddenly a dove
alighted on his head, and in truth shortly after 11e was Illade Pope. 1
l'hen he sent for his father, the treasurer, and the king. All pre-
sented .thell1selves trenlbling, for they feared they had COllll1litted
SOlue very heinous sin. Rn t the Pope n1ade thenl all relate their
histories, and then turned to his father and said, "I anl the son
'vhorn you sent to be killed because I said I understood the language
of birds, of dogs, and of frogs. You have treated 111e thus, and on
the other hand a treasurer and. a king :Gave been very grateful for
this knowledge of mine." The father repented his fault, and his
son pardoned hilll and kept hinl with hinl vvhile he lived. 2
1 There is some obscurity here: as the hero was a mere youth, how could he
be "shortly after Inade Pope" The incident of the dove alighting on his head
recalls-and is probably connected with-the custonl Inentionec1 in nlany Indian
stories of people sending the late king's elephant and a bird out of the city, and
the person the bird alighted on, and the elephant at the san18 tilne took up with
his trunk and placed on his back, was chosen as king: the bird does not occur
often in such tales.
2 Italian Tales, pp. 161-3.-1n the German version (Grhnnl,
No. 33, "Die drei Sprachen ") the youth is sent to school three successive terms,
during each of which he learns an aniInal.language. The old tower of the castle
.lan(fllage of Ani-lnals. 365
1 This is the first intimation we have of the condition under which tIle
Inerchant (he is more like a farmer) was taught the language of anill1als; but in
a variant which follows, it is stated that death was the penalty for revealing the
conversation of birds or beasts.
of Ani1Juxls. 367
his paternal uncle, and the 1110ther of his children, and had lived
,vith her to the age of a hundred and twenty years. Having
assemhled his faulily and neighbours, he related to then1 his story,
and told them that as soon as he revealed his secret he must die;
upon which everyone present said to his \vife, "'Ve conjure thee,
by Allah, that thou give up this affair, and let not thy husband and
the father of thy children die." But she said, "I will not desist
until he tell 111e, though he die for it." So they ceased to solicit
her, and the merchant left them and ,vent to the stable to perforn1
the ablution, and then to return and tell the secret to his ,vife.
N O\V he had a cock, \vith fifty hens under him, and he had also
a dog, and he heard the dog call to the cock and rerroach hinl,
saying,. "Art thou happy \vhen our n1aster is about to die 1" The
cock said, " Ho'v so 1" and the clog related to hin1 the story, upon
'v hich the cock exc]ailned, " By .A.llah! our nlaster has little sense!
I have fifty ,vives, and I please this and provoke that one; ,vhile he
has but one wife, and cannot l11anage this affair with 11er! Why
does he not take some t\yigs of the and euter her
chanlber and beat her until she dies or repents She \vould never
after that usk hinl a question respecting anything." And ,vhen the
merchant heard the ,yords of the cock, as he addressed the dog, he
recovered his reason and nlade up his 111ind to beat her. He entered
her chamber, after he had cut off S0111e twigs of the mulberry-tree
and hidden them there, and then said to her, "00111e into the
chamber, that I nlay tell thee the secret ,vhile no one hears TIle, and
then die." And ,vhen she entered he locked the chan1ber door upon
her, and beat her until she becanle ahl10st senseless, and cried out,
"I repent"; and she kissed his hands and his feet, and repented
and ,vent out ,vith hinl; and all the C0111pany and her own fanlily
rejoiced; and they lived together in the happiest 111anner until death.!
WE have now arrived at the fOUl-;th·, and last, gift of the Indian
king to his Tartar "brother"-the S\vord, ,vhich, by the way, ,vas
without a sheath; perchance, because such a keen blade would ,year
out any scabbard. Its marvellous qualities are thus set forth by the
ambassador:
"This naked swerd, tllat hangeth by 111y side,
Such vertu hath, that what man that it srnyte,
'rhurghout his arnHU it wol kerve and byte,
Were it as thikke as is a braunched ook ;
And what man is i-wounded with the strook
Sehal never be hool, till that you lust of grace
'ro strok hinl with the plat in thilke place
Ther he is hurt; this is as moche to seyn,
Ye moote with the platte swerd agein
Stroke him in the wound, and it wol close;-
'rhis is the verray soth withouten glose,
It failleth nought, whi! it is in your hold."
'fhe people, ,vho vvere eagerly interchanging ideas regarding the ,von-
derful presents ,vhich their king had just received at the hands of
the Indian knight, in discussing the qualities of the Sword-
fel in speche of Telophos the kyng,
And of Achilles for his queynte 1 spere,
For he couthe 2 with it bothe hele and dere. z
" Telephus, the son of Hercules and A uge, was ,vounded by Achilles
with his spear, and healed by the applic;1tion of SOl1le rust fronl
the saIue weapon. Petronius, in his epigranl, De exactly
describes the qualities of Canlbyuskan's nlagic sword-
"Unde datum est vulnus, contigit inde salus."
A sonlevvhat sill1i1ar s\vord was possessed by a giant in a N orso
tale-" whoever is touched with its point dies instantly; but if he
is touehed with the hilt he inl111ediately returns to life."4 And in
another Norse tale a ,vitch gives the hero a sword, one edge of \vhich
was black, the other ,vhite; and if he snlote a foe vvith the black
edge he fell dead in a nlonlent, but by striking hill1 ,vith the ·white
edge the deacllnan as quickly rose up alive. 5
1 Q'lLcynte = cunningly-devised. 2 Gouthe = could. 3 Dere = hann.
4 Thorpe's YtfJlc-l'ide Storie8 (Bohn's ed., 1853), p. 162.
5 Dasent's Talesf1>01n the Field: "Master 'robacco."
Magic Swo1"ds and Spears. 373
. A still nlore \Yonderful sword occurs in a folk-tale from Western
India, in whieh the hero discovers hhnself in a submarine palace;
a lovely daulsel is lying upon a golden bedstead, her head severed
frOll1 her body and laid on a pillo'v by her side, the life-blood
trickling from her throat, each drop as it falls turning into a mag-
nificent ruby. He conceals himself. Presently a giant-the girl's
father-comes home; he puts the girl's head on her neck, then takes
a sword that was lying beside her, and strokes up and down with
the blade the place \vhere the neck had been severed, whereupon the
girl awakes. In the nlorning before the giant goes ont, he takes the
same sword and cuts off the girl's head again, placing it on the pillow
beside her, along \vith the sword. While the giant is away, the hero
"rith the sword ?rings back the danlsel to life, and they escape to the
upper ,vorld. 1
Reginald Scot, quoting L. Varius, says of ,vitches that they
"can remeJie anie stranger, and him that is absent, with that very
s\vord ,vherewith they are \younded. Yea, and that which is beyond
all adrrliration, if they stroke the sword upwards ,vith their fingers
the partie shall feele no paine; ,vhereas if they drawe their fingers
do,vne,vards thereupon, the partie \vounded shall feele intolerable
paine."2 It was also a magical practice to anoint the weapon
had caused a serious wound, and thus, as it was fondly believed,
effect a cure by " sympathy." Sir WaIter Scott introduces this in
his Lay oj the Last Minstrel, iii. 23:
But she has ta'en the broken lance,
And washed it froln the clotted gore,
And salved the splinter o'er and o'er.
'Villiam of Deloraine, in trance,
Whene'er she turned it round and round,
Twisted, as if she galled the wound.
Then to her maidens she did say,
That he should be whole man and sound
Within the course of a night and day.
1 There can be little doubt that following out this advice, to keep the wound
clean and in a moderate ternperatnre, did vastly lnore towards the cure than all
Digby's washillgs of the blood-stained garter and the rest of his charlatanry.
Magic Szuords and SlJcars. 375
In Bojardo's OJ'lando Inn aniJOrato , B. I., c. i., st. 43, we read of "a
lance of gold wrought out \vith skill and snhtle toil. l'hat lance is
of such a nature that nothing can re.sist its t.hrust: force or slight
avail not against it; but both 11ll1st surely be OVerC0111e; enchant-
lllent unequalled in the \vorld has girdlecl it around with such pOvver,
that neither the count of Brava, nor Rinalclo, nor [anything in] the
"world could stand firm against its thrust."-But in the sanle poen1
,ve llleet "\vith s,vords which are wrought vvith such fine telnper as to
break the spell of every sorcery-even enchantnlent avails not where
they lay their strokes (B. 11. xvii., 13).-ln Ariosto's Orlando Furioso
,ve read, according to vV. Ste\vart Rose's translation:
"You are ll1yown bridegroOln," said she, and so they were married.-Dnblin
Un'iversily J{agazine, 1867, vol. xx. 1). 142.
380 lIfctgicctl in the sTale.
Thus by Rogoro's suit the enchantress won,
r,ro his first shape transfornwd the youthful poer ;
But good Melissa deomed that nought was done
Save she restored his arrnour and his spear
Of gold, which, whenso'er at tilt he rUll,
At the first touch unseated cavalier. (viii. 17.)
On Rabican, pricked forth before his band,
Va:iant Astolpho, from the other bound,
With the enchanted lance of gold in hand,
Which at the first encounter bore to ground
What knights he smote with it. (xviii. 15.)
The lance, hy which who ever in the course
vVas touched, fell headlong hurtling frOln his horse. (xxiii. 15.)
We find spears of like quality in Spenser's l/aerie Queene:
Ah, gallant knight, that ever arnlor bore,
Let not thee grieve dislnOUl1ted to have beene,
And brought to grownd, that never wast before;
For not thy fault, but secret po\vre unseene :
That speere enchauntod was which layd thee on the gre3ne !
(B. Ill. c. i. st. 7.)
Beside those arlnes there stood a Inightie speare,
Which Bladud made by nlagic art of yore,
And usd the salne in batteill aye to beare ;
Sith which it had been here preservcl in store,
For his great vertues proved long afore:
For never wight so fast in sell could sit,
But hhn perforce unto the ground it bore. (B. Ill. c. iii, st. 60.)
A stranger knight, sayd he, unknowne by namo,
But.knowne by fmne, ·and by an hebene [i. e. ebony] speare,
With which he all that met him downe did beare.
(B. IV. c. vi. st. 6.)
Velent the smith, according to the Edda of Saenlund, forged a
"s,vord of sharpness" called Bahnung, 'which had no superior. So
sharp was this fanlous sv{ord that 'when Velent cleft his rival Enlilius
,vith it, the blade seenled to Enlilius only like cold 'water running
dO\Vll his body. " Shake thyself," said Velent. He did so, and fell
C in two halves, one on each side of the chair.-The same gifted artisan
wrought the sword presented to Childe Horn:
Then she lete forth bring
A swerd hongand by a ring,
To Horn sehe it bitanght,
'" It is the make of MClning,
Of all swerdes it is king,
And \Velend it wrought.
Magic and Spea1'>s. 381
Bitterfer, the sweru hight,
Better swerde bar never knight:
Horn, to thee ieh it thought
Is not a knight in Inglond
Sehal sitten a dint of thine han d ;
Forsake thou it nought."
The ballad of Child Orm relates how that hero obtained fronl his
Inother's t0111b the irresistible sword Birting, \vith \vhich he sle\v the
giant Berm-
" Grip it with firm and uauntless hand,
And none shall ever thee withstand."
11.
llf nub'
THE young anti beautiful Ectriva ,vas queen of that part of Spain
of which Seville was the capital. At a tournament held in her
presence, lVlarchabias, son and heir of the King of Sardinia, dis-
tinguished himself so nluch by his address and courage that he ,van
her heart, and she besto\ved on him her hand and made hinl a
sharer of her royal dignity. Their n1arriage was happy, and in the
space of four Jears they saw themselves the parents of a prince and
three princesses. To their son they gave the name of Cleomades;
his sisters ,vere called Helior, Soliadis, and 1Iaxinla. All were
beautiful; but, fronl her very infancy, the charn1s of ]\faxima were
such as to entrance an beholders. 2
As soon as Prince Cleoll1ades had been sufficiently instructed at
home, his parents sent hinl to travel for his improvelllent. He
visited Greece, Germany, and France, and ,vas proceeding to Italy
,vhen he was sumnl0ned hon1e by the king and queen to give his
presence at the nuptials of his sisters, 'vhose hands were sought by
three great princes, ,vho ,vere novv arrived in Seville, ,vhither their
fame had preceded thenl. 3 For they were not only po'\verful monarchs,
1 See also (E'llVreS du.. C01nte de Tn;8sctn-Paris, 1822. Tome Ill., pp. 255-
298.
2 In the original metrical Romance of Cleolllades, Ynabele [1 Annabelle],
daught.er of the King of Spain, is married to Marcadigas, the son of Caldus,
king of Sardinia; their son is called Cleomades, and the names of the three
daughters are, Elyador, Feniadisse, and l\larine.
3 Here the l\1et. Rom. informs us that l\larcadigas had been long at war,
defending his land against five kings. He challenges one of them to single
CC 2
386 of the sTale.
but were deeply versed in astrology and well skilled in the art of
nlagic. One was Melicandus, king of Barbary; the second was
Bardigans, king of Arnlenia; the third, whose name ,vas Croppart,
was king of Hungary.! This last was ugly and humpbacked; his
soul "vas as defornled as his body, and his tongue was pregnant with
falsehood.
These three kings had nlet together before they set out for
Seville, and had agreed that each should give such a present to tlle
king and queen as would entitle him to ask a gift in return. On
their arrival they 'v ere received vvith all becoming honours. 2 I{ing
Melicandus presented the royal pair ,vith a man of gold, who held in
his right hand a trumpet formed of the sanle nletal, nlade with
ll1uch art, that if treason lurked \vithin even a considerable distance
fronl him, he put the trunlpet to his mouth and ble'\v a loud and
piercing blast.-King Bardigans presented a hen and sjx chickens of
gold, so skilfully fornled that they seelned to be alive. lIe placed
them on the ground, and they instantly began to run about, to peck,
and to clap their ,vings. The hen flew up on the queen's knee,
cackled, and laid a fine pearl in her lap. 3 "She will do the sanle
every third day," said Bardigans. All present were lost in admira..
cornbat in two months' time. Cleomades, then in France, hears of this (he
was only twenty-five years old, and none under thirty were then called men),
and returns at once to his father, whonl he persuades to nlake hinl one of his
new 300 knights at a festival. Five cornbats take place: Garsianis, Idng of
Portugal; Bondars le Gris, king of Gascony; Galdas des Mons, sire of Tou.
louse; Agam bart 1i Lons, king of Aragon; and Sormans li Rous, king of
Galicia-such were the names of the princes who accepted the bold challenge
of Marcadigas, who had, however, a doughty ally in his son. Cleomades first
overthrows Agarnhart, then Bondars; wbile Marcadigas worsts Sornlans and
Garsianis. Galdas attacks Marcadigas, and kills his horse under him. l\far-
cadigas is surrounded by foes. Cleomacles spurs to the rescue, and driving at
the bold King Galdas unhorses him, and the spectators call Cleoluades "the
god of arn1s" (1. 1154). The five kings return to their respective countries,
after doing fealty to him and his father. So did the gallant Cleomades prove
hinlself in anus (1. 1410).
1 The names of these three in the Met. Rom., are: Melocandis, of
Barbary; Baldigans, of Morocco; and Crolllpart (sometin1es written Crolupars),
of Bougie-or Bugia = Bujaiyah = the fourth of the provinces in to which
l\Iuslims divide North Africa, viz.: Tunis, Tripoli, Constantilla, and Bugia.
2 In the Met. Rom. the three kings arrive at "Seville the Great" while
l\rIarcadigas is celebrating his birthday by a grand feast.
3 A hen and tkree chickens, in IVlet. Rom., and no mention of pearls.
Cle01nades and 387
tion of these \vonderful gifts.-I(ing Croppart now canle forward
"\vith a large \vooden horse, l nlaguificently caparisolled, \vith pins of
steel on his head and shoulders. "Sire," said he, in a harsh and dis-
cordant voice, "with the horse \vhich I offer you one may lllount in
the air, cross the seas, and travel at the rate of fifty leagues an hour." 2
l"he king and queen, who yielded to none in generosity, offered
the strangers in return anything that was in their po\ver to bestow.
At once they craved as a boon the hands of the three fair princesses
of Seville; and Marchabias and Ectriva, seeing no sufficient reason
to justify a refusal, accorded them their delnand. The t\VO elder
princesses and the \vhole court were pleased "\vith the kings of
Barbary and Armenia, 'vho ,vere handsollle anll agreeable in their
persons. But the princess Maxilnu, \vhen she sa\v that she ,vas the
choice of ICing Croppart, burst into tears, and running to her brother.
illlplored him to deliver her froIn such a hideous monster, or to put
her to death with his own hand. 3 Cleomades, who loved his sister
tenderly and could not endure the idea of her being t.hus sacrificed,
arose and declared to his father that he had bound hitnself by oath
to defend the liberty of his youngest sister and that he could not
consent to such a union. On the other hand, Croppart insisted on
the pronlise of the king. The prince, darting at hinl a look of
indignation, said: "The two other kings have Inerited by the value
of their gifts the perfornlance of the king's pronlise; but \vhat
clailns do this paltry wooden horse and the fable you have ventured
to tell us give you?" " lVIy lord," said Croppal>t, gladly seizing the
opportunity presented of getting rid of the prince, "be judge your-
self of the nlerits of nlY horse. There is nothing I will not submit
to if I deceive you." "Yes," cried the prince, "I \villlnake trial of
him this very instant." So saying, he had the horse brought into
the garden: the golden nlan gave a loud blast on his trlunpet, but
The nuptials of the two elder princesses 'with the kings MeIi-
candus and Bardigans were no longer delayed. But as the princess
lVIaxinla persisted in her aversion from King Croppart, and the
golden man ble,v his trunlpet every tinle he renevved his proposal,
and Prince Cleomades moreover still declared hinlself the champion
1 At first he is condemned to be hung, but ultitnately gains permission to
bo cut to pieces (" decoupez d'espees "), seated on his horse, in lUet. ROlll.
2 In the original the lnagic horse takes him straight hanlo.
CleOl1Lades and Olare1nonde. 393
of his sister, King Marchahias gave him a positive refusal, aCCOln·
panied \vith orders to quit the court ilnmediately.
Croppart, having been ohliged to leave his own country, and st.ay
away for the space of a year,! on account of some crinles which he
had committed, resolved to remain in the neighbourhood of Seville.
He disguised himself, and passed for an Indian physician, and,
taking up his abode in one of the villages near the city, ,vatched the
movelnents of the royal falllily.2 He soon learned that Prince Cleo-
Inades had set out on another expedition. For this young man,
unable to control the violence of his passion for the fair Clarelnonde,
had made a confidante of hi::; nl0ther, \vho, feeling that it \vould be
useless to detain hiIn, had consented to his returning, by means of
the \vooden horse, to the abode of that princess, only enjoining him
prudence and. caution.
Cleomades arranged the time of his departure so as to arrive by
night at the to\ver of his beloved Claremonde. Instead of alighting
on the leads, he directed his horse to a little garden, ,vhose only
entrance ,vas fronl the apartnlents of the princess, and concealed
hinl in an arbour. Full of hope, fear, and love, he then dre\v nigh
to the door. It ,vas open; he entered and ad vallced to\vards the
chanlber of Clarenlonc1e. He found her lying in a gentle slumber;
a single lau1p gave light in the IIaving gazed for sonIe
1110nlents \vith rapture on her charms, he gently awoke her. 3 "Ah,
rash youth," said she in a tender and affectionate tone,"" 'v hy \vill
you again venture 011 certain death \Vhat do you purpose, since
you are not I{ing Liopatris "To adore you \vhile I live,"
returned he, "and give you a station ,vorthy of you. laIn Cleo-
111ac1es, son of the King of Spain. l\fy parents know of nlY love,
and 'vill press you to their bosolns, and lllake you nlistress of one of
the Illost splendid thrones in the world." " vVhat !" cried the
princess, "are you that Cleomades 'VhOlll fanle proclaims to be the
,veIl clothed and fed until the evening before, when he had beaten
and abused her ,vithout reason.
Mend111us, ,vho was a good sort of lllan, and not troubled \vith too
nluch delicacy, ,vas not at all repelled from the alliance which he
proposed by this frank eonfession. Having, for forln-sake, held a
council, composed of the c0111panions of his pleasure, and obtained
their approval of his design, he returned and announced it to the
princess. Claremonde no\v saw no other means of retarding the
marriage, which she dreaded, than to feign that joy had turned her
brain. 1 She comluittec1 acts of the greatest folly and extravagance,
and at length became so violent that the king found it necessary to
take llleasures for her cure, and he put her under the care of ten of
the nlost sensible and strongest WOlnen he could find.
1 Met. Rom. (1. 7825 fi.): l\:feanwhile Cleomades learns that Crompart is
also missing from Seville; guesses the rest, and the mere hope of recovering
his princess enables him to rise from his bed. Much to his parents' vexation,
lle determines to seek her over the world, and, with a retinue of 100 knights,
visits Brittany, Normandy, England, "Vales, Scotland; frOlll Dover crosses to
"Vissant, and, going through Germany, Hungary, Poland, reaches Greece at a
time when the Greeks are at war with Primonus [Prianl?], the king of
Chaldea. They seek his aid, and he helps theln to defeat and bring the
Eastern king to subjection, by a battle under Mount Arestain [l\farat.hon, says
Paulin Paris]. does not remain in Greece, but, loaded with honoura
and praise, tah:es leave of his would-be subjects and presses on his way, with
less than a third of the following he had when he left Spain (1. 9000). Alollg
the sea-shore, mourning for Claren10ndine, goes Cleoluades (9050), till, reach-
ing a port opposite Sicily (Sezile), he crosses and searches through the island,
but in vain. He puts to sea again, and reaches Venice, where he makes some
stay and Inany inquiries. It is but three da,ys' journey thence-by Pavia,
Ferrara, and Bologna-to Tuscany; but Cleonlades does not dream of going
there. Dllperceived by any but his chaluberlain, whonl he charges with
secrecy, he steals away from Mestre-the la·nrl terminus of Venice-at day-
break, to go by wild and unfl'equented ways (9220). His retinue haste back
to Spain, where Marcadigas dies of grief not long after (9400). No one can
hear of and his mother and sisters are distraught with sorrow.-
rides with great speed all day (he is not, however, going to Tuscany),
and by night reaches the castle of 1\'1ount Estrais (9490).
2 Oleomades, in the Met. Rom., is inforlned of the origin of this strange
custonl by one of the ladies, while at supper: "an arlned nlan once murdered
the lord of the castle and more than two hundred of both sexes."
LANE. D D
400 Analogues of the Squ/ire's Tale.
and entertained, and then retired to repose. 1 In the morning the
knight, who had done t.he honours of the house, required hilll to
surrender his arms or to fight. The prince forthwith mounted his
horse, grasped his lance, and rode forth to where t,vo arllled knights
awaited his arriva1. 2 Imlllediately the two charge hinl together;
their lances are shivered against his shield, but he renlains £inn in
his seat, while one of the knights is unhorsed, and his shoulder put
out of joint by the stroke of the prince's lance. 3 The other then
draws his svvord, and a long and dubious conflict ensues. At length
Cleomades proves victorious, and disaruls his opponent, WhOlll he
now finds to be a most valiant knight, vvhom he had met with in
his travels. They both go to the aid of the ,vounded knight, who,
on being inforlnecl of the illustrious naUle of his adversary, assured
.him that it ,vas against his ,vill he had aided to Inaintain that
iniquitous custonl; adding that he only regretted his vvound be-
cause it vvould prevent his undertaking the defence of a danlsel
vvrollgfully accuseu of treaSOll.
They cOllvey the ,vounded knights to the castle, and then
mades learns that the damsel is one of the princess Clarelnonde's
lllaids of honour. For on the arrival of Liopatris at the court of
Tuscaliy, three knights of his train had forthwith accused the three
ladies of honour of being accomplices in carrying off their nlistress.
The t,vo knights confess to Cleoluades that they are enamoured of
t,YO of the accused dalllsels, and the wounded n1an again bellloans
his inability to defend the life and innocence of his nlistress. " Ah,
sir," replies C16omades, "cease to afflict yourself. No one is nlore
bound than I to defend the fair Lyriade. 4 I will depart vvith your
cOlllrade, and trust speedily to restore her to you."
Clcomades, having selected a suit of plain arnl0ur,5 that he ll1ight
not be kno,vll, set out ,vith his conlrade 6 for the court of l{ing
1 After supper the minstrel, sings to his kitaire (citltal'a =
Pers. Sita-r = guitar), and he has no need to call for silence.
2 The two knights are: Durbant Dabel, the lord of the castle, and Sart,ans
de Satre. .,
3 It was not an uncommon occurrence in the be-praised age of chivalry for
two, and even three, knights to attack a single knight-ideas of " fair-play"
being somewhat obscure. 4 Lyades, in l\Iet. Rom. 5 Black arU10ur.
6 vVith Durbant, accompanied by Pin<;onlles, the minstrel.
Cleo1'nades and Cla1'·e1nonde. 401
Cornuant. On their arrival he halted in the suburbs, ,vhile the
knight of the castle ,vent for\vard to announce that two knights ,vere
come to undertake the defence of the accused clanlsels against the
three accusers. 1 Next lllorning the conlbatants appear in the lists.
The ,vard of onset is given: the knights dart forth and encounter.
The strongest of the chanlpions of Liopatris singly engages Cleomades,
'v hose lance penetrates his shield and corslet and enters his heart.
He then flies to the aid of his companion, whonl the other t,vo had
unhorsed. Ere long they cry for n1ercy and deliver up their s,vords.
According to the la\v of cOlnbat, the accused clalllsels are now pro-
nounced innocent and delivered to their defenders; 2 and mounting
their palfreys they set forth ,vith thelll, and acconlpanied by their
relatives, for the castle \VhellCe the victor-knights had COIne.
Cleonutdcs clisarnled hinlself, the damsels, to their great
surprise and joy, recognized in hitn the lover of the princess Clare-
Inoude. Their gratitude to hinl kne\v no bounds; but their inquiries
after their mistress awoke his grief, and they 111illgled their tearH
\vith his. All now began to consult on the nleans of obtaining
tidings of her; but none of the proposed plans seetHed to offer a like-
lihood of success. .A.t length an old knight said he kne,v at Salermo
an astrologer, ",vha sa\v the most secret things quite clearly."
Cleonlades instantly resolved to go and consult this sage; and ac-
cordingly, next morning, after taking leave of the lovers alid making
thern pl'onlise to COlne to Spain to hinl if he shoulJ. find his Clare-
luonde, he set out for Sa1e1'1110. 3
On his arrival in that city Clt30mades put up at an inn in the
suburbs.. His first care ,vas to inquire of the llost after the sage of
1 They lodge at an inn in tlle town, heneath Castle Noble (10,840). Cleo-
mades cannot bear to look fronl the inl1-windo\v upon OlaretnOlldine's home;
and, dissenlbling the reason, prays DUl'bant to find hitn another abode. Dur-
baut sends him to the castle of Vel'de Coste (Green Banl<), the abode of Lyades'
father, where ho would be welcOlne.
2 the disappointed suitor of Clarenlondine, admits the honour-
ableness of OleOnlaOeS.
3 No nlention of the astrologer in IVlet. Rom. Cleomades, accompanied by
Piuc;onnes the minstrel, takes the road to Rome, searching nlany countries, far
and wide. Pin90nnes informs him that they are approaching the realm of
l\ieniadus, king of Salerno, an honourable lord, who exacts no toll of merchants
or any others who will tell hhn news of strange lands.
402 Analogues of the Tale.
whom he was COllle in quest. "Alas, sir," said the host, "it is now
a year since we lost hinl; and never diu \ve regret anyone more;
for were he now alive he Inight be of the n10st essential service to
our prince, by restoring to reason the most beautiful creature that
ever lived, of whorn, though she is of low origin, he is so enan10ured
that he is resolved to marry her."
Clt30111ades- was filled \vith melancholy at hearing of the death of
the sage; and the host, to divert him, related the tale of the hunch-
back, l and how the king had met with that lovely creature, and how
herheaJ had turned \vith joy at the idea of being married to a king.
He- ended his narrative by what he deemed the least interesting part
of it, by telling of the wooden horse, which had been found
llear where the rascally hunchback \vas lying. When he l11entioned
the horse, Cleolnades thre\v his arn1S about his neck: "Ah, my dear
friend," said he, "both your fortune and mine are 111ade; for I possess
infallible cures for madness. Lead me at once to your prince ;-bnt
stay: as nlY arnlS lllight excite son1e suspicion, get 111e a false beard
and the dress of a physician. Depend upon my success, and on a
full half of the reward."
The host quickly supplied hhn with all that he required, and
then going to the court, announced the arrival at his house -of a
ll10st reno\vl1ed physjcian, 2 ,vho would undertake the cure of the nlad
lady. The king ordered hiln to be brought to court without a
1110111el1t's delay.
Cleomades, taking vvith hilll the glove of Clarel1l0nde, which he
had filled with some comnlon herbs and fio"wers, repaired to the
palace. 3 I{ing 1\1endulus hin1self conducted him to the apartnlent of
the fair patient, who, as soon as she saw hitn approaching, redouhled
her deUl0nstrations of frenzy. " Sire," said Cleolllades, "be under
no apprehension; I will soon 11lake her cahn." He then dre,v nigh
to her, and put her glove near her face, as if to nlake her s111e11 it.
1 i. e. Croppart, or Cl'ompart.
2 Not said to be a physician in 1\iet. Rom.:
. k'en Gascojgne manoit
Et k'en Sezile aIel' vouloit
Et estoit de Portugal nes-
"a Portuguese residing in Gascony" is what is Ineant.
3 lIe sleeps at the castle; in the morniug has an interview with the king.
Ole01nades and 403
Surprised at seeing her own glove, she looked sharply at the pre-
tended physician, and at once recognized Cleo111ades. Instantly she
becan1e quite calnl: she took his hand, a11d he felt the pressure of
love and recognition. "Doctor," said she, "your glove is full of
virtue, for it has done 1118 S0111e good. But as for yourself, poor
creature, I believe you are just as mad as I aUI. With all your airs
of ilnportance, I'll ,vager that my ,yooden horse kno\vs more than
you do. But, by the ,vay, I all1 afraid they ,vill let him die of
hunger. I wish they ,vould bring hilu here to dispute '\vith you.
o ho\v he ,Yould argue if he could get S0111e Seville oats to eat 1"
and she raised her eyes to heaven.
Her lovely countenance had no'\v resumed all its beauty. 1\1en-
dulns, enraptured, hut at the salne time grieved to hear her, as he
thought, talking more irrationally than ever, iU1plored the physician
to employ all his skill for her recovery. "I ,vill," replied he; "but
,\ve 111ust begin by giving ,vay to her little caprices and fancies. Fair
Trouvee," then continued he, "I have not the slightest objection to
argue with your horse. I have often before now dispnted vvith those
animals. It is, to be sure, no easy matter to convince them; but by
proper management one 111ay succeed in training them and making
theln useful. . Let theln lead in your horse then, and "--" Ha! ha!
you poor fool!" cried Claremonde in a fit of laughter; "my horse is
of another sort from those you are used to hold argunlents ,vith. Lead
him in! He will not hinlself be led; he likes to be carried by asses
like yourself. So go and fetch him, and then, if you dare, dispute
with him in my presence." Cleomades pretended not to understand
her. "Sire," said he to l\fendulus, "she has got some fancy, about a
horse into her head. Let one be brought out of your stables."
l\!Iendulus, ,vho thought himself now wondrous wise, replied: "I see
how it is. I kno'\v better than you what she wants"; and he
ordered the ,vooden horse to be brought into the garden.
" Fair Trouvee;" said he then with a smile, "you kno,v the horse
might dirty your chanlber. Come do'\vn \into the garden, and he
shall be there for you." "Ah," cried she, "you talk senRe, not like
this sprig of a physician. COlue, give 111e your arm and let us go
do,vn." She then caught Cleomades by the ear, as if to pull him
404 Analogues oj' the sTale.
after her j and all the court follo\ved, laughing at her acts of folly.
v'Vhen she saw the horse, she ran up and e111braced him. "Ah,"
said she, "how lean you are-they have half-starved you 1" and she
at once began to gather grass and flowers to feed hill1.
Cleonlades, showing the king a little phial, said: ""VVe nlust lose
no tin1e in making her swallow this." Clarelnonde instantly changed
her tone, and affected to feel great confidence in the physician and
his remedies. "0 thou great man," cried she, "mount this horse
with me, and take me a\vay froln this rabble, ,vho are torlnenting 111e.
You will find nly cure in the horse's ear." Cleoll1ades shrugged his
shoulders, as if he no\v doubted of her cure. But l\fendulus pressed
hinl to conlply \vith her whill1, and he hiulself placed her behind
hiIn on the horse. The prince, ,vith the phial in his hand, affected
to search the ear of the horse, and, ,vatching his opportunity, turned
the pin. The horse rose, like an arrow from a bo,v, into the air, and
all present uttered a cry of alnazement. "Mendulus," said the
prince, as they ,vent off, "I anl Cleon1ades, prince of Spain, and
this is the fair Clarelllonde, daughter of the king of Tuscany," and
they,vere soon out of vie\v. 1
1 Before going up to the castle, Oleomades charges his companion, Pin-
c;onnes, the minstrel, to salute Durbant and Sartan, with the ladies of their
house (Claremondine's three maidens), and bid theln conle at once to him in
Spain; he will himself send for l{jng Cal'mant (Cornuant). If he do this,
and all he loves will be made rich for ever (13,335). Meniadus
(Mendulus) demands an explanation fron'l Pinyonnes, who tells him the whole
history. 'rhe king listens patiently, and admits that he has been befooled:
"l\:'Ieniadus, the caitiff [good-for-nothing?] king," he exclainls, "lily name
,vilI be all lily life long. It is my rightful naute. I have justly deserved it ;
for never lived so caitiff a king as I, so God help me! "(13,770). Pin90nnes
tul{es the opportunity of getting his cange, and the morrow nlorn sets. out on
Cleomarles' palfrey, which the prince had given hhn. He is gladly WelC0111ed
at Verde Coste, and tells Lyades all that had happened; then goes to King
Carmant, and informs him to his great joy that his daughter is safe, and in no
less worthy hands than Oleolnades' (14,000). Pinc;onnes then returns to :Mont
Estrais, Durbant's castle, and tells him that the strange knight who had helped
them and had given his nanle as Mescheans (== Ill-luck 7) was no other than
the renowned prince Cleomades.
Meanwhile CleOlnades, unwilling to weary his beloved Clarenlondine, brings
the magic horse down in a fair and pleasant place where a fountain nlurnlurs
under a tree in the Ineadow slope, up and down which luany flowers were
blooming. There they have a long talk, and assure each other of their
unswerving fidelity. They eat and drink but little (for" pure love was their
ent'J'e'met "), and then Olaremondine sleeps near the tree, covered by Oleonlades'
cloak. He watches her with rapture, drinking in her beauty (" rose
Valentine and Orson. 405
his horse of tree for the love of kynge Morcadigas 1 daughter that
,vas so fayI', ,vhom he had ,vende for to have ,vonne. That hors ,vas
so made ,vithin, that 'VOSOlnever rode on it yf -he ,vo1de, 11e shold
be within lesse than an hour, an hondred myle thens; and that ,vas
,vel prevyd, for Cleonledes, the kynges sane, wolde not byleve that
that hors of tree had suche nlyght and vertne. He ,vas yonge, lusty,
and hardy, and desyred to doo grete dedes of prys, for to be renamed
in this world, and leep on this hors of tree. Cron1part torned a pynne
that stode on his brest,2 and anon the hors lyfte hinl up, and wente out
of the balle by the ,vyndo\ve, and er one myght saye his Pater N oster,
he ,vas goon nlore ten ll1yle ,vaye. Cleoluedes ,vas sore aferd, and
supposed never to have torned agayn, as thistoryc therof telleth
Inore playnly; but how grete drede he had, and ho'v ferre that he
rood upon that horse made of tree of Rebenus, er he coude kno'Ne
the al'te and crafte how he shold torne hynl, and how joyeful he ,vas
,vhan he kne,ve it, and ho,v nlen soro\ved for hynl, and how he
knewe all this, and the joye therof when he canle agayn, al this I
passe over for losyng of tinle."
appear before hinl, and make obeisance. One of the sages presents
the king vvith a golden peacock, which ,vas so formed that when an
hour of the night was past it flapped its wings and uttered a loud
cry; another presents a figure of a nlan, Inade of gold and set vvith
precious gems, having in its hand a golden trunlpet, the peculiar
property of this figure being that if it vvere placed at the gate of the
city it \yould at once sound an alarlTI on the approach of an ene111Y ;
vvhile the third sage (\vho was of hideous aspect, as in Oleolnades)
presents a horse of ebony and ivory, vvhich could carry its riuer
,vherever he pleased. The king tests the qualities of the golden
peacock and figure vvith the trnnlpet, and being fully satisfied 'with
their performances, l then orders the t\VO first sages to name their
reward. They reply: "J\f.arry us to tvvo of your daughters." To
this the king at once consents, and his two elder daughters have nQ
objections, seeing that their suitors are vvell-favoured men. The
third sage now makes a sinlilar request-that he should have the
king's youngest daughter in 111arriage. But the king nlust first test
also the properties of the ebony horse, and grants his son pernlission
to make the trial. The prince accordingly nlounts the nlugic horse,
but it won't move. Then the ugly o,vne1' explains that he has sinlply
Saturnalia, or rather Carnival, of the Hindus, when people of all conditions
take liberties with each other, especially by scattering red powder and coloured
water on the clothes of persons passing in the street, as described in the play
of Ratn&vali, where syringes and water-pipes are used by the crowd. Flowers,
and especially the opening blossonls of the mango, would naturally be much
used for decoration at this festival and as offArings to the god of Love. It
was formerly held on the full moon of the month Chaitra, or about the begin-
ning of April, but now on the full n100n of Pha,lguna, or about the beginning
of March. The other great Hindu festival, held in the autumn, ahout OctoLel',
is called Durga-puja, being in honour of the goadess Durga."-Sir l\1onier
Williams' notes to his translation of KaJidasa's drama of Sakulltala, 0')' the
L()st Rin.q.
The Persian festival of the .A.. utun1nal Equinox was established by Farirlun,
in the In on th of Mihrgan (September), and is of two kinds: (1) jlIilw'gan-i-
kltassa, or the day Mihr, the sixteenth of the month Mihr, when the sun is in
Libra; and (2) lJfihrgan-i-'a,rJ}una, the twenty-first of the month lVIihr, on
which day FariJun captured Zuhak, according to Firdausi's Sluih Ndllla, 01'
Book of Kings. From one to the other, a period of sixty-days, the Persians
give themselves up to pleasure.
1 It does not appear how the king managed to test the qualities of the
golden peacock and the golden man: as the former gave notice when" an
hour of the n'ight was past," and the latter l>lew his trumpet on the approach
of an enetllY.
Arabian Tale of the Ebony Ho?"se. 415
ply to turn the pin that is fixed in the horse's head in order to put
it in luotion, ,vhich the prince does, and the steed instantly springs
up into the air and is soon out of sight, to the consternation of the
king and all his courtiers. Of course the sage is clapped into, prison,
pending the result of the prince's aerial excursion.
Meanwhile the young prince, after having mounted to a very great
height, discovers another pin in the head of the magic horse, on
turning ,vhich it descends rapidly and a.lights on the roof of a palace,
frOIn which the prince finds his ,vay into a chau1.ber of the harem,
where he sees a most be\vitchingly beautiful daulsel among her
female attendants. The prince novv acts very differently from' Cleo-
Inaoes in the like circumstances: he knocks dovvn the eunuch who
guarded the door, alid scatters the slave-girls right and left. He
then learns fronl the danlsel that she is the daughter of the king of
Yemen, and that this is San'a, the capital city ;--her father had but
yesterday refused her the ill-favoured king of India. When the
eunuch has" gathered himself together," the brave prince tells hinl
that he is the son-in-law of the king, ,vho had given hiIll pernlissioll
to come and introduce himself to his bride. The eunuch forthwith
proceeds to the king and' infornlS him of all this strange business,
and his nlajesty hastens full of wrath to confront the bold intruder
into the presence of his daughter. But the prince (unlike 01eo-
111ades) bullies the king, ,yha soon begins to change llis tone, and
treat him with courtesy - for the prince is evidently illuell the
stronger Il1an. Our hero then challenges the king to llleet hiln in
single conlbat for his kingdom, or, if he '\vould prefer it, dra\v out
his whole arnlY in battle array, and he ,vould encounter thenl. The
king adopts the latter alternative, and the prince lllounts his nlagic
steed and canters up in front of the troops. After putting his horse
through various exercises he makes it ascend and speedily reaches
h0111e. On learning that the sage has been thro\vn into prison the
prince causes hinl to be set at liberty, but he is not to get the
youngest princess in marriage, at \vhich the sage is secretly wrath,
and resolves to be revenged. l'ho conclusion differs little £ronl that
of and altogether the Arabian tale is 11luch inferior to the
Romance.
LANE. E E
416 Analogu£s oj the Sq1li1'e's Tale.
Qturkizll War-iant.
IT is well knovvn to such as are fanliliar with Eastern fictions,
that Turkish fables and popular tales have all been translated or
adapted fronl Arabian and Persian sources, but it is seldo111 that they
are inlprovements on their originals or lnodels. There occurs a very
singular of the story of the lVIagic Horse in a Turkish collec-
tion, ,vritten about the close of the last century by a Cretan nal11ed
'All 'Az{z, and entitled 'Phantaslns fro1n the .Presence of Goc1.'l
This is how the story begins: The king and his son, Prince N ez{l,
,vith all the nlembers of the divan, were assembled at a place half
an hour's distance fronl the city, in order to celebrate N e\v Year's
pay, according to the ancient cnstom of Persia. There they pitched
the tents, and spread out trays of food, and high and lo\v feasted.
For three days ,vere exhibited, with playing and singing and ear-
rejoicing melodies, all nUt11ne1' of strange and vvonderful sho\vs; and
with a thousand divers ganles and tricks they observed the olden
rules and kept the ancient rites. While they ,vere thus employed,
an Indian brought up to the royal tent a horse fashioned of pure
gold,2 and. in likeness of a hobby-horse, that he nlight sho\v the
wonder of its contrivance. vVhen they had looked at the perfection
of its fashion, the Inaian, its owner, said: "This thing hath a yet
more nlarvellous virtue, and it is this: when I Inount upon it, it
taketh n18 to "\vhat place soever I ,,,ould, and it acco1l1plisheth a three
111onths' journey in a single day." And he mounted upon it aDd rose
into the air, and alighted on a 1110und that ,vas over against then).
After tarrying there a brief space he caIne again and descended before
the king's tent, and all were astonied at the strange thing. 1"n8
king gave the Indian nlany gifts, and said to hinl: "Sell nle this
horse, and I \vill give thee therefor whatsoever thou 111ayest ,vish."
The Indian Inade ansvver, saying: "My lord, this horse came into
1 Ledu'n-i illalti-'i G'il'idU 'All 'Azfz Efendi.-I am in-
debted to 1\11'. E. J. "V. Gibb for the use of his translation (in manuscript) of
this curious, mystical work.
2 Here 'we have, as in Ohaucer, an Ind·ian. In the Arabian tale three
[WIles con1e with gifts, in Oleomades, we three kings. This agremuent of
the Turkish tale with Chaucer would seem to point to the existence in the poet's
tilne of a version of the story resenlbling the First Part of the Sq'wi1'e's l}de.
Variant. 417
the hands of thy slave by a hap, so that he kno,veth not the value
thereof; but it is very precious to him, and there is none could give
hiIn the price he ,vould say that he should sell it." On being asked
what he ll1eant by this riddling, he thus ans,vered them:
" I, your slave, anl a ll1an poor of estate, frolll alllollg dwellers in
the city of Lar. I gained llly livelihood by as s,veeper and
caller to prayer at the parish mosque. I had no one in the mansion
of the \vorld save one lonesome daughter, and I o\vned nought' of
that \vhich is called \vealth. One day, thirty'days agone, \vhen I
had perfOl'nled the afternoon prayer, and the congregation had
departed, an elder entered the 1110sque, and cOIuing up to 111e took
me by the hand. The two of us sat dOVill together in the 111iddle of'
the nl0sque, and he opened his nlouth and said: 'Brother, I have a
,voru to say to thee a little. I anl not of the sons of Adanl; I anl a
spirit, but I have C0111e purposing good to thee.' He sa,v that there
,vas in me no sign of dread, so he took me by the hand and led nle
to one of the caves \vithout the city, and sho\ved 111e this cunningly
devised horse. And first he pointed out to nle the device of it, how
to 111ake it rise in the air, and ho,v to nluke it descend, and ho\v to
stop it, and how to quicken it. Then he said: 'The price of this
horse is not in the \vorId. It passed by a hap into ll1y hands, but as
,ve are spirits it is useless to us. l\Iy desire is to barter it 'with thee.'
I smiled and said: 'I anl a poor Inan. I possess nothing that I
should make exchange ,vith thee.' JIe ansvvercd: 'Thou hast a
daughter. If thou ,vilt give her to me, I \vill give thee this; hut
.take heed that thou spoil it not, coveting the gold thereof; for if
thou knevv its \vorth thou ,vouldst barter it for a hundred tinles its
\veight in gold.' After 111uch thought the urgings of lust iInpelled
111e to acceptance, and \vhen he sa\v that I \vas \villing he took from
his pocket a pen-case and a piece of paper, and said: 'NO\V \vrite
this our exchange upon this paper.' And I vvrotc it and gave it into
his hand. Then saying, ' No\v take this horse and go to thy house,'
he vanished froIn before nle. vVhen I ,vent to lUy house I found
not a tTace of lUy daughter, and straight\vay I fell a-grieving that he
had C0111e and taken off nlY daughter, and I \vept ll1uch. 13ut
knowing that ron10rse would profit not, I bethought me thus: 'If I
E E 2
418 Analog1teS of the Tale.
show this horse in Illy own city, it is certain that I shall be straitencd
by their asking nle where I found it.' So having heard of your fair
and kingly qualities, I said to myself: 'If there be any ,vho win
know its \vorth, it is the king.' So I have brought it into your
presence. If you desire it, I request full ten tilnes its ,vcight in
gold."
N esil is at once enallloured of the 1vonderful horse, and
persuades his father, Kharezm Shah, to purchase it. The Indian
instructs the prince ho\v to nlanage it, and he nlonnts on its back,
and the horse ascends into the air. "Pull not hard," the Indian
exclain1ed, but the prince did not hear him, and was quickly out of
sight. The king was sorely grieved at his son's disappearance.-Thc
remainder of the tale recounts the Inarvellous adventures of Prince
Nes!l, who arrives at a large city, where there is a castle, ,vhich he
boldly enters, and finds in one of the chambers a young lady,vho
has been enchanted by a genie, who is in love with her. He
discovers the mode of doing a\vay the spell, and on the return of the
genie conlpels hilll to oboy all his behests, and in the end is duly
nlarriod to the dal11sel.
1 Muslims reckon four archangel's: (1) Jabra'il (i. e. Gabriel), who is God's
messenger; (2) Mika'il (Michael), who is the protector of the Jews; (3) Israfil,
who will sound the last trumpet; and (4) 'Azra'il, the angel of death.
420 A of the sTale.
bride, till, unluckily, an ignorant cook, being in \vant of firewood,
chopped up his precious chair for fuel.
The pretended angel, naturally fearing detAction after this
slipped out of the palace at nlidnight, and returned to his
home, vvhere he wept and bitterly lanlented his lost granddll'.
vVhile thus plunged in the sea of grief and vain regrets, the genie of
the chair appeared before hin1, touched by his Inisfortune, and
presented hiIn ¥lith a cap and a ring, saying,: "'vVhen thou puttest
this cap on thy head thou shalt be invisible to all eyes; and as for
this ring, should any trouble befaJI thee, press it and I will C0111e to
thee instantly, and do thy bidding." And he returned to the palace
without being discovered, as he wore the cap of invisibility; and,
buoyed up by the genie's prolnise of aid, he continued for son1e time
happy in the society of his royal spouse.
Meanwhile the vazlrs, having ascertained the real condition and
rank of the son-in-Ia\v of the sultan, disclosed the yvhole affair to
hilu, suggesting that, as a proof that the self-styled'Azra'il was no
impostor, he should be required to bring SOlne of the fruits of
Paradise. The sultan then vvent to his daughter privily, and bade
her desire her husband to bring fruits fl'OTIl the spirit-\vorld, \vhich
she did very \villingly; and her husband, going into another apart-
ment, sunnllolled the genie by nleans of his ring, \vho speedily
brought hiIn the required fruits.
Some tillle after this occurrence the sultan fell' in love \vith, and
purchased a beautiful slave-girl, offered for sale in the lllarket-place.
But scarce had she been placed in the royal harenl vvhen a prince of
the red genii, charnled by her sweet voice, carried her off to grace the
nuptials of his son. One of the vvedding guests, a hideous 'ifrit,
became enamoured of her, and in the midst of the festivities, seized
her in his arillS and conveyed her into his cave, \vhich ,vas in the
seventh depth of the earth. The aid of the "angel 'Azra'il" \yas
invoked by the sultan, through his daughter, and the obedient genie
of the chair, cap, and ring slew the 'ifrit aft.er a desperate conflict,
and restored the fair slave to her royal lover. But her charn1s soon
proved so attractive to the sultan that, shutting hiInself up 'with
he neglected the affairs of the state, in consequence of 'which a
Pe·rsian Tale of the Flying Ohest. 421
neighbouring prince invaded the country, and, lueetillg ,vith no
opposition, actually encanlped under the ,valls of the capital. In
this strait the sultan again had recourse to his son-in-Ia\v, ,vho, clad
in arlll0Ul', ,vith the cap of invisibility over his helulet, and attenJed
by the genie, who was also invisible, entered the invader's camp at
luidnight and utterly routed his troops. The prince 'hinlself was
taken prisoner by the sultan's son-in-la,v, and, ,vith all his treasure
and the arnlY equipage, led into the city, after the pretended angel
had removed his cap of invisibility. Then the sultan caused the
prince to be confined in one of the palace-to,vers, and ordered public
rejoicings to be held throughout his d0111inions; after which he
resolved to spend the rest of his life in cOlnpany ,vith the beautiful
slave-girl, and resigned his kingdorn to his sou-in-law, ,vho lived in
the ut1110st felicity ,vith the princess until death, the destroyer of all,
separated theln.
again visits the princess, \yho asks hinl: "Ho,v CaBles it that you
look so youthful I al'Nays understood that the Prophet was a
venerable old nlan." Quoth he: "So I do sOl1letimes appear to the
faithful; but I thought that you would prefer to see me as a young
nlan." 1
Thus several days are passed very pleasantly-Malik taking care
to leave each 1110rning before dawn-when the sultan comes to visit
his daughter, "vho is rather vexed to see hiln. She tells him at last,
however, that he is father-in-Ia\vof Muhammed. " Nonsense," ex-
claims the sultan. " Alas! I now see ho\v useless it is to strive
against the decrees of fate. Your horoscope is fulfilled. A traitor
has seduced you!" So snying, he rushes out of the room and
searches everywhere, ,vithout ilnding any trace of the impostor. He
sumnlons all his nlinisters, and tells theul of the ,heavy calanlity that
has befallen both himself and his daughter. The chief vazir says
that the alleged Inarriage TIlay have actually taken place, although
the story has all the appearance of a mere invention. Great faulilies,
he adds, have before attributed their origin to sinlilar events. l\fost
of the other ministers professed to be of the salne opinion; but one
said that he ,vas surprised to find the slightest degree of credence
placed in such a story ;-"vas it likely that the Prophet, an1idst the
huris of Paradise, \vould seek a bride on earth 1 He ,vas of opinion
that the sultan should institute a thorough search for the inlpostor.
The sultan dismisses the ministers, saying that he ,vill stay all
night ,vith the princess, and investigate this Inatter hilllSelf. Shirin
tells hinl that her husband "\vould never eat anything while with her
-itself a proof that he is "vhat he represents himself to be. As the
usual hour for the impostor's visit draws near, the sultan seats hiln-
self in his daughter's apart111ent, "vith a lighted taper and a naked
s"vord in his hand, determined, if necessary, to ,vash out the stain
on his honour ,vith the villain's life-blood. Presently it happens
to lighten, and a flash dazzles the sultan, 'vho concludes that the
1 Malik, if not the princess also, should have known that in Paradise the
faithful· are blessed with perennial and vigorO'llS young manhood, since the
Prophet has not only promised that each of the faithful is in those happy
regions to have s8lwnty of the hurlS, or black-eyed beauties, but that be shall
1.>e endowed with the strength of set'enty men.
424 Analog1les of the Tale.
lightning indicates the descent of tlH3 Prophet. .A. t this 1110n1ent Malik
enters, and the sultan, instead of being enraged, is struck with awe,
and, dropping his scilnitar, falls prostrate and kisses l\f.alik's feet,
exclairning: "0 great Apostle! what am I, to deserve the honour of
being your father-in-Ia'w!" Fun of gratitude, the sultan then dis-
creetly ,vithdraws from the apartment, leaving the princess "\vith
'who passes the night ,vith her as usual, and departs before
the first rays of the sun begin to illulnine the horizon.
The vazlrs are again sent for and infornled by the delighted
sultan that' the princess Shll'ln is really tlle spouse of the Prophet,
but they do not creclit such a very iIuprobable story. But one of
their nunl her, returning honle, falls fronl his horse and breaks his leg,
and his colleagues look upon the nlischance as a punishnlent for his
ill1pious incredulity. The sultan gives orders that all the city be
decorated, .and public rejoicings be held in celebration of his daugh-
ter's nlarriage ,vith 1\1uhanuned, the Apostle of GOll. vVhen l\falik
returns at night, the sultan tells hinl of the accident to one of his
lllinisters, and Malik declares that it 'will in future cost the life of
any doubter. The sultan takes his vazirs before the princess next
day, and begs her to intercede ,vith the Apostle for their pardon, to
,vhich she generously consents.
By this tinle Malik has eaten up all his provisions in the \vood ;
the H Prophet" is actually reduced to as great straits for a meal as
ever "ras beggar going about fron1 house to house. So he says to the
princess: "l\1:y beloved, you have 0111itted to give 111e a dower."
"True," she replies; "but I will speak of it to l1ly father in the
morning." " No, no; there is no necessity for doiug so. I do not
care for ,vealth-it is of no use to me. Sufficient \vill it be if you
give lUC 80111e of your jewels." The princess ,voulcl readily have
gi ven him all that she possessed, but JYIalik contented hiulself ,vith
two large dian10nds, ,vhich he sold to a je,veller next day.
J\1alik has enacted the part of the" Prophet" for about a n10nth,
,vhen an alnbassador fronl a neighbouring king arrives at the court
of Sultan Bahaulan to denland the princess Shirln in nlarriage. The
sultan informs him that his daughter is already married, and to no
less a personage than the holy himself. The ambassador
Persian Tale oj-' the Flying Ohest. 425
thinks the sultan is 11lad, and returns \vith the strange ans\ver to his
royal master, \vho dOC111S it an insult, and at once 1l1usters his ar1l1Y
and marches to attack Ghazni. Sultan Bahanlan is in despair, for
the invader is 11101'e powerful than he; but bids the princess
tell her father thqt he \vill give hiIn his aid in defeating the e11enlY.
IIaving filled his flying chest vvith stones, he goes up into the air
about the Iniddle of the night, and descending close to the foreign
king's tent unperce:ved hy the sentries, peeps insille, and seeing hilll
asleep strikes hinl on the forehead ,vith a stone, wounding hinl
severely; after \vhich he again ascends in his chest, and sho\vers
stones on the troops belo\v, ,vhoall fly in dis111ay, leaving tents and
equipage behind thenl. The invalling king is, ho\vever, taken
prisoner; and 1\Ialik, to signalize the victory, prepares SOlne fire-
,vorks on -the follo\villg day, and taking them ,vith him in his chest
at the darkest hour of the night he goes very high into the air,
,Yhere he lights then1, \viih very good effect. In the 1110rning he
goes into the city, to hear what the people are saying a.bout his
pyrotechnic display. S0111e are s,vearing that they actually sa¥l the
" Prophet" an1idst sho,vers of llleteors, and so 011. All this delights
J\falik very rnnch, of course; but in the 111eantime his precious chest
is burning in the ,vood. A spark of a firework had sOlllehow caught
the chest and s1110ulJered until the nlorning breeze fanned it into
f!a,nles. vVhen 1\lalik discovered the extent of the ealalnity he rent
his clothes and beat his face. But all in vain: he 111USt novv seek
his fortnne and so he departed ,vith a caravan for Cairo,
where he became a vveaver. l
1 "0 nlost lame and impotent conclusion! "-Hans Andersen, in his
Danish collection of fairy tales, has re-cooked this tale for the special benefit
of youngsters; his version is therefore valueless for purposes of cOlllparison:
A lllerchant's son squanders all his heritage-all but four shillings, a pair of
slippers, and a dressing-gown. One of his friends sent hiln a trunk, and as he
had nothing to pack into it, he went inside of it himself, and the 1110nlent he
had closed the lid the trunk flew up the chinnley and soared far above the
clouds. He alighted in Turkey, and hid the trunk under leaves in a wood.
IVleeting a nurse and child, he asked who lived in yonder castle, and waR told,
the king's daughter, of whom it had been predicted that she should be unhappy
through a lover. fIe reaches her chanlber window in his trunk, is adluitted
by the princess, and tells her that he is a TU1'lti.r;;!t god, and so on. Needless to
say that this tale is not Danish, but probably derived fronl either the Arabian
story of the Flying Chair, or the Persian story of the Flying Trunk.
426 Analogttes of the Sqruirre's Tale.
Tell 111e, and' speak. the truth." The other replio<l: "If thou ,,,,ilt
hear it f1'0111 n18, ,ve 111USt be alone, so that I 111ay speak ,vithout
concealing anything." 'Vhen this ,vas brought about, he said to
hin1: "Dearest, if i11 truth thou lovest nle as a friend, do n1e the
kindness to carry,voo<l for 111y funeral fire. Do as I desire; for ,vhat
is done for the sake of a little affection cannot be out of proportion
to the abundance of thine." But the other ,vhen he heard this said,
"\vith tears in his eyes and ,vith a broken voice: "Whatever lnay be
the course of thy suffering, do thou declare it, so that help lTIay be
provided, if possible j for do not th,)y say:
'The egg of .Brahnlft in this world contains nought but it lllay
be set to right by herbs, luoney, counsel, and prudence.' 1
If, then, it can be rel1ieJied by these four, I shall rell1edy it." The
weaver replied: "Against these 111y snfferings neither those four
reuledies nor a thousand others can avail. Therefore retard not nlY
death." The citI'penter said: "Dear friend, let nle kno\v neverthe-
less, so that, if I cannot bring help, I lllay perish in the flaules \vith
thee. Separation I could not hear for a single nl01uent. That is
llly firln resolve." The ,vpaver said: "Friend of l1ly youth, listen,
then. Imnlediately "\vhen I had beheld the king's daughter on the
elephant I ,vas reduced t.o this condition by the enlinent deity ,yha
.bears a fish in his banner; 2 and no,v I cannot bear this torll1cut.
as it is sai{l :
'vVhen shall I sleep, 'weary ,vith this battle of love, llly breast
sunk bet\veen a pair of 111ilk-,vhite 1110ist "\vith saffron, and
roull<l like the globes of the love-ardent elephant, caged up in her
anils, and but for one nl0111ent blest ,vith her enlbrace 7'
Allll thus:
, rrhe red bil1lba-like lips,3 the chalice-like boson1s, s\velling in the
priJe of youth, the deeply-sunk navel, the bent lotos-flo\ver of the
yoni, the dainty narro,vness of the waist-luay well bring suffering
1 The egg of Brahnla, the first of the Hindu triad: the egg is the world,
the orphic or munrlane egg which floated amidst the water before the creation,
and froIl1 which Brahnla, the ill'st-1Jorn, according to sorne legends, elnel'ged,
out according to othel'R, Inerely resolved itself into the upper and lower spheres
-vVilson's IIindu ii. 58.
2 I. 8. the god of Love·-Kamadeva.
3 Bitnba, or vimba = the Jl'l'!Jon:ia {/1"anrlis.
430 Analogues of the SquiTe's Tale.
to the inlpassioned heart; but that her fair cheeks should ever and
ever consume me, that is not ,veIl.' "
But the carpenter, when he had heard this tale of love, said
s111iling: "Friend of my youth, if that is the cause, our goal is easily
reached: even this very day shalt thou be "Tith her." l"'he vveaver
said: "When nothing but the \vind can enter the maiden's chamber,
and guarded as it is moreover, ho\v should a llleeting be possible 1
Why \vouldst thou deceive nle 'with an untruthful tale " 'rhe
carpenter said: "Friend, thon shalt see the povver of Illy cunning."
'Vhen he had said this, he forth"with constructed from the timber of
the Vayudsha-tree 1 a Gal'uda llloving on a pivot; also tvvo pairs of
arnlS, furnished with the shell, the discus, the club, and the lotus, to-
gether ,vith the diadelu and breast-je\vel. He then 111ade the weaver
bestride it, and having thus fitted hiIll with all the attributes of
Vishnu,2 he showed him the nlode of vvorking the pivot, and said:
" Friend of nlY youth! go at luidnight in this shape of Vishnu to the
111aiden's chanlber, who dwells alone at end of the palace having
seven storeys, win her love '\vith feigned words, as in her inexperience
she will believe thee to be Vasudeva,3 and so lllake her thy OWll."
Then the weaver after hearing this ,vent thither in such shap8,
and said to her: "Art thou asleep or a"wake 1 For thy sake have I
CaBle in nlY own person fronl the nlilky \vay of Love, leaving Lakshnli
behinc1. 4 C0111e, then, to IUy arnls." When she sa\v hilll riding on
the bird Garuda, ,vith four arnlS, with ,veapons, and the breast-je,vel
of Vishnu, she rose in astonishnlent frol11 her couch, folded her hands
reverently, and said: "0 lllighty one! I am an ill1pUre, \vornl-like
mortal, and thou art the object of adulation, and the creator of the
1 Benfey says: "I do not know any tree which is called the Vayudsha.
May it not be an enchanted tree, formed in a wonderful nlal1Uer? (See the
nlagical spel1s in the VetfLlapanc!tavi'ilsati, in Lassell, Antlwl., 36, 37.)"
2 Vishnu is the second deity of the Hindu triad. lIe is worshipped by
sixty milHons of the people of India, as the personification of the preserving
power. Vishnu is represented as riding on the Gal'uda, a mythical birrl of the
vulture species, half-man, half-bird; in one of his four hands he holds a lotus,
in another a club or mace, in another a conch-shell, and in the fourth a dis-
cus ;-thus our hero was thoroughly equipped for the personation of this deity.
3 Vasudeva is one of the many names of Vh;hnU.
4 Lakshmi, the sea-born goddess of beauty and prosperity, consort of
Vishnu, obtained by hhll at t.he churning of the sea.
lIindu PTototype. 431
three \vorlds. How can such a thing be 1" The ,veavel' said:
" Blessed one! what thou sayest is true. But ,vas not lTIy spouse,
of the name of once born in the house of Nauda 1 1 She has
embodied herself in you. Therefore have I c0111e." The other said:
" If such be the case, prefer thy clailn to 111Y father, that he n1ay give
TIle up to thee without any deulur." The weaver said: "Blessed
one! I do not allo\v lllyself to be seen by men, far less con verse ,vith
thenl. "fherefore deliver thyself up after the manner of the Gan-
dharva. 2 If not, I will pronounce a curse to reduce thy father and all
his falnily to ashes." Having thus spoken, he alighted fronl the
Garuda, took hold of her left hand, and led the frightened, abashed,
and treInbling lllaiden to the couch, and after caressing her all night
according to the teachings of Vatsyayana, 3 ,vent home in the dawn
,vithout having been observed.
"rhus the ,veaver passed sonle time in constant intercoul'se ,vith
her. One <lay, ho,vever, the servants of the harenl noticed that her
private place, and she will behold at luidnight the mighty husband
of Lakshnli."
Then the nl0ther, hearing this, \vith a face beanling \vith delight,
every hair on her linlbs bristling ,vith joy,! \vent to the king and
said: "0 I{ing, glory and blessing have COlne upon thee! Every
night the 111ighty N arayana visits thy daughter. He has taken her
for his ,vife according to the rule of the Gandharva. Thou and I
, \vill stand by the ,vindo\v at midnight, and see hinl, for he \vill not
converse ,vith Dlen." The king \vhen he ,vas told this was so full
of joy that the day seemed to hinl a hundred years long. And when
he and his wife stood concealed near the \vindo\v at night, with their
eyes constantly fixed on the sky, he saw at the stated thue N arayana
descending through the air, astride the Garuda, shell, discus, club,
and lotus in his hands, and furnished \vith all his attributes, he felt
as though he ,vere s,vimming in a lake of nectar, and he said to his
beloved: "Dearest, no nlan in this world is happier than I and
thou! Iror the mighty N arayana has approached our offspring, and
he loves her; and thus are all the of our hearts fulfilled.
Now shall I, through the po,ver of nlY son-in-la,v, subJue the
,vorld! "
Having thus resolved, he began to attack all the neighbouring
kings; but they, seeing that he ,vas unjust, joined their forces
together and overran his kingdom. Then the king, through the
voice of his ,vife, spake to his daughter, saying: "Daughter, since
the lllighty N{trayana has, through thee, who art my daughter,
beco111e ll1y son-i11-la\v, it ill befits that all the neighbouring kings
should make ,var against 111e. Therefore thou ll1Ust this day induce
hinl to cause lily enemies to perish." When the weaver arrived at
night, he ,vas acldressed by her devoutly:·" 0 111ighty one! it
behoves not that 111y father, \vhosc son-in-la\v thou art, should be
overcome by his enenlies. Therefore sho\v thy favour and destroy
theln all." The weaver replied: "'Blessed one! ho,v s1na11' are thy
father's enemies! Be of a light heart! 'Vith Iny discus called
Sudarsana I shall crush thelll to dust in a mOlllcnt." But at length
When he had thus deterulined, he ground his teeth and said to her:
"Blessed one! I shall not touch either food or drink till all the
enelllies are slain. So \vhy these \vords 1 Even thee I shall not see
till then. But thou must tell thy father that to-lllOrrO\V, in the early
11101'11, he nlust go out of the town with a strong host to do battle,
and I shall appear in the air and take the strength from the others.
He will then easily slay the111. "T ere I to kill them n1yself the
villains \youId go to Paradise; therefore it Inust be so ordered that
they perish in their flight and not reach heaven." 1 And she, after
hearing this, ,vent herself and told the king, who believed \vhat she
had said, and at da\vn rose and sallied out with a well-equipped
army to fight j while the \veaver, ready to ll1eet death, ascended to
the sky \vith a bo\v in his hand to do battle.
l\feantiule the 111ighty Narayana, to whonl the past, the present,
and the future are kno\vn, said smiling to the bird Garuda, \vho,
]'el11enlbering, had conle to him: "Ha, thou winged one! knowest
thou that a \veaver, in nlY shape disguised, and sitting on a
wooden Garuda, loveth the king's daughter lie ans\vered: "Ah
l11e, I do kno\v of these doings, but \vhat are \ve to do The
l11ighty one said: "This weaver is now resolved to die; he has done
penance, and has gone to battle. Struck by the arrows of the brave
\varriors, he will surely find his death. But after his death all the
,vorld \vill say that Vasudeva and his Garuda have been conquered
by 111ighty warriors allied against them. Then ,viII the world no
longer pay us reverence. Therefore do thou hasten and enter this
,vooden Garuda, \vhile I enter the body of the ,veaver, that he may
slay the king's enenlies. By their destruction our glory "\vill be
increased." When the Garuda had expressed his consent, the n1ighty
N arayana ,vent into the body of the \veaver. This one, standing on
the Garuda in the air, distinguished by his shell, discus, club, and
bovv, by the power of the 11lighty one, in one llloment, and as it were
their sepa.rate existence and were transferred to the sky. The head beCn111e
the cause of eclipses by its anitnosHy to the sun and moon, and the head
UeCa111e Ketu, or the descending node.-Balfour's Cy(}lopcedia of Ind'ia.
1 In Hindu belief, heroes who fall in battle ascend at once to heaven. This
is also part of the lVIuslitn creed, and hence the rapid spread of Islam under
the early Khalifs.
(
436 Analogues of the Sq1£i1"e's Tale.
child's-play, rendered inlpotent the strength of the bravest '\varriors.
Then they ,\vere surrounded by the king's arnlY, conquered in battle,
and slain. And among all the people it "was reported that the king's
enemies had been slain in consequence of his relationship to Vishnll.
The weaver, when he saw theul all slain, descended frorn the sky
,vith a joyful heart. When the king, the Ininisters, and the people
sa'\v the weaver, their townslnan, they asked hinl: "What means
this " And he told then1, froln the beginning, the foregoing story.
The king, having by the destruction of his foes recovered his power,
at once received the "\tveaver graciously, and gave hinl, solenlnly in
public, his daughter in marriage, and vvith her a part of his kingdonl.
And the weaver passed his life with her in the enjoynlent of the five
kinds of sensual pleasures, "\tvhich are the essence of the world of the
living. Therefore they say:
"Even BraJlll1a does not find the end of a subtle deceit: a
weaver in the shape of Vishnu ,vins the king's daughter."
1 Kali, the spouse of Siva, called also Parvati, Durga, and by many other
names.
440 of the Sq'ltire's Tale.
It tle\v on to the house \vhere the king's daughter \vas shut up. 1-Ie
left his bird behind hinl on the roof and \vent dow'n to the fair
king's daughter. When the nlaiden saw hinl she was sore afraid, for
she could not think how a 111an could have got into this carefully-
closed house. The rich nlan no,v said to her: "I anl the son of the
good God, and anl conle to take thee to wife." It vvas already
evening, and that day the king came no more to his daughter. The
rich nlan stayed 'with the king's daughter and entertained himself
,vith her the \vhole night through, all went so well.
Next nlorning the king came to his daughter, and \vhen he saw a
strange man ,vith her he was nearly frightened to death. But when
his daughter told hin1 that the lllan ,vas the son of the good God he
was rejoiced, and called all his lords together, and told them that the
son of God wanted to have his daughter. All believed that the
stranger was the son of God, but one lord said: "If he is so, and
flew here, let hilu show us he can fly a\vay again. If he do this, ,ve
,vill believe that he is the son of God, and he can return and take
the king's daughter to ,vife." The rich nlan replied: "You shall
soon see nle fly." And he mounted to the roof to flyaway on his
wooden bird, but it had vanished! Novv did the rich man stand on
the roof) and he kne,v not ,vhat to do. So he descended; but the
people caUle upon hilll, reviled hilll as a traitor, and ,vould have
beaten hin1 nigh to death, had not St. Nicholas suddenly appeared,
and said: "I{no,v ye, I anl St. Nicholas, and I tell you that our
good GOd'R ,viII i8 that this good Juan have this king's daughter to
vvife. l\fay they both live long in peace and joy!" Then he disap-
peared. And the rich man l11arried the fair daughter of the king,
and they lived till their blessed end in. joy and peace. 1
itlob,erlt
A CURIOUSLY garbled forl11 of the sanle story is given in Geldart's
Folk-Lore of Modern Greece, under the title of Golden Steed,'
p. 92 £f., of ,vhich the conclusion is taken frOln a quite different tale,
current in IllOst parts of Europe. A young prince falls desperately
in love \vith a beautiful princess frol11 seeing her portraity and,
acconlpunied by his bosonl friend, the son of his father's chaplain,
1 'Del' Geflligelte Helu': lIfarchen 1-MLd Liede," cler Zige1-Lner der
von Dr. Franz Miklovich. 'Vieu,1874. No. VIII., pp. 30-34.-1'he conclusion
of this tale is very remarkable, in the Deity being snbstituted for some species
of spirit, who is invariably the personage in all other tales known
to me where a similar incident occurs. The nl0st COlllmon form relates how a
chilJless king is compelled to lwomise one of those mysterious beings (whose
nature and character are not very clearly defined in that he will sur-
render to hinl "what he has left in the house, but doesn't know about." When
the king reaches home he finds that a son has been born to him in his absence,
and that, this is what he has prolnised to the denlon. After some tin1e the king
has to surrender the" heir and hope" of his house, but all turns out well in the
end. (See, for example, No. VIII. of M. Leger's French collection of Slav Talcs.)
It is curious to observe how frc\luently "the good God" and" the son of the
good God" figure in Gipsy tales, and the only reason that occurs to 111e is that
the sen1i-christianizing which the Gipsies have undergone may have induced
thetn thus to alter their hereditary tales, in order to please their European
patrons.
446 A of the Sq uirre's 1 ct!c.
1
sets out in quest of her vvhose " counterfeit presentment ' - has robbed
hilll of his heart. After journeying at ranclon1 for S01116 tin1e they
enter the castle of a sorceress, \""here the priest's son-\vho is the real
hero of the tale-learns £1'0111 her conversation ,vith her daughter ho,v
the abode of the princess may be reached, and the story proceeds:
When they got down to the shore, the priest's son goes, as the
sorceress had said, to the lower pillar and digs. When he had dug
sonIC way dovvn, he unearths a bridle <\vhat on earth is the priest's
son up j he dips it in the sea, and 10 and behold! out there
conles a horse with wings, says: "At your service, Inaster ! " 1
l'hen the t,vo nl0untecl him, and in the twinkling of an eye pass
over to the country of the Fair One. they had landed the
horse turns into a bridle again, \vhich they take into the to'wn \vith
them. They inquire of 011e or t·wo of the people there, and they tell
them that this is ,vhere the Fair One cl \vells. Theu the prince
slniled, and did not trouble hilllself to think ho\v they \yere to
accolllplish their object. But la! the priest's son had the \vjt of a
WOl1lan,2 and did business by the bushel. When they had stayed
t\VO or three days, and no one so 11luch as gave thenl a look, he said
Day da\vns: the hour comes when the princess ,vas ,vont to
a,vake. She neither wakes nor stirs. "Why, what's the
asks the king. " Why doesn't that fello,v conle to fetch his horse '.1
For he al ways came very early.. At last he seellled to get an inkling
of the state of the case, and shouted that they should break open the
door. "Vhen the door ,vas broken open, what did they see 'N0
princess I-no trinkets I-only the golden horse lying open on the
floor. " Woe betide me ! " shouts the king "I have lost 111y solace!
Run to the house of the o,vner of the horse 1" But in is all
their trouble! To no purpose all their toil! The bird was flown
from the cage. They muster an arnIed force, and start in pursuit.
But the fugitives are close to the sea, and fear them not.. When the
princess sa,v so large an army, " See! " said she, "my father is' after
us, and where shall we go now " Then the prince dips the bridle
into the sea, and up comes the horse antI carries thenI across. The
king then conles to the shore, but ho,v. shall he pass over lie
utters a curse on the princess: "Daughter, look to it ! Since you
have deserted me and fled, the first night Y9U sleep with your
husband, may the ,vall be rent and a two-headed 1110nster conle and
eat you up!"
Let us no\v turn to the prince, who ,vas as blithe as a bird on
the ,ving, and, '\vanted to be off at once to his father's. But the
prjncess 'vas not so ,yell pleased \vith him. son of the priest
proposed that they should first go to the castle of the ,vitch, and
afterwards proceed to their own country. So they come to the
castle,. and the priest's son says to the princess: "l'his is your
llllsballd, lady. He is a king's son, and I alll but the son of a
priest." She was like to 111ake a ,vry face, but she gulped do\vn her
vexation, and said: "I nlust put up \vith him."-The priest's son
overhears the sorcere::;s say to her daughter, that \vhocver Bhould hear
or tell of the monster's devouring the princess should be turned into
stone. After this all tIn,ec-the prince, princess, and the priest's
son-Teturn home, and the sequel is sinlilar to the conclusion of the
Gernlan stOI'Y in Grimlu's collection, entitled' Del' Gute J ohannes.' 1
1 It is a very common feature of Eastern tales for a young prince t.o be
acconlpanied in his quest of a faulous beauty by a clever and devoted friend,
G G 2
450 Analog1-tes qf the Sq1-tire's Tale.
There is reason to suspect Geldal't of having "cooked" his
versions of nlodern Greek tales, and I think he has taken c.onsiderable
liberties ,vith the story of the Golden Steed, ,vhich is comprsed of
incidents in at least three tales that are quite separate distinct in
other European countries. I feel pretty confident that, in order to
,vrite " a book for children," he represents the prince's conlpanion as
making love to the young princess in his ovvn person, instead of as
personating some celestial being. Hans in his version,
does not scruple to say that the adventurer called hinlself a Turkish
god, because a European child is not supposed to know that the
Ottonlans are nlonotheists, but he glosses over what happened during
the night by saying that he "told pretty stories to the princess."-
We have not yet quite done with exanlples of rascals seducing youth
and beauty under the disguise of celestials. Here is one fron1 Kenl-
pius, De Osculis, translated by BeIoe, in his published
in, 1795, vol. ii. pp. 71-74:
as in the Sansluit story of the l\Hnister's Son, one of the Vetdlapanclla rdnfJflN,
or Twenty-five Tales of a Vampyre, and the 'ramil romance, lJfadanaluilJul1'6jiln-
ltada,i, which has been translated into English by Pandit Natesa Sastrl uncleI'
the title of the Drav'idian Nights Ente1'ta'inments.
A Roman Knight PeTsonates 451
but ,vas blindly attached to the "vorship of Isis, ,yho was then vener-
ated in Roule as a goddess. She went to SOUle of the Ininisters of
this false deity and offered theln large bribes to circumvent Paulina
and procure her perS')}l for 1\{undus. They, allured by the money,
undertook the office. The eldest aUlong thenl "vent privately to
Paulina and assured her that Anubis ,vas captivated ,vith her beauty,
and required her to grant him an intel'vie"v. 1:he lady.was over-
joyed at the idea of being beloved by a god, and scrupled not to
acquaint her husband of the fact, ,vho, trusting to his wife's integrity,
svffered her to depart ,vith the priest. She was introduced into a
grove at the approach of night, ,vhere she ,vas received by Mundus
in the charaeter of the god Al1ubis, who passed the night in her
COlnpany.
On her return she boasted not only to her husband but to her
acquaintance of the favours she had received fronl the god. The
third day after this event Mundus met her, "Paulina," said he, "I
have kept ll1y two hundred .thousand drachmre and had your beauty
for nothing. Your cruelty to 1vlundus I have revenged in the
character of Anubis." The lady "as petrified ,vith horror, and in-
fOl'nled her husband of what had happened. lIe cOlllplained to the
emperor, and Tiberius, on proof of the crime, crucified the priests,
pulled down the tenlple, thre,v the iInage of Isis into the Tiber, and
banished 1\fulldus - thinking that the excess of passion <.lid not
demand so severe a punishnlent as death. 1
1 The same story is told by Josephus, Ant. J'u,d. xviii. 3, a fact which Beloe
seems to have overlooked; and also in the lVars of Alexam,cler, an alliterative
romance, chiefly derived frolll the Histm'ia A lexctndri :A[agni de Prelius, re..
edited by Dr. Skeat for the Early English Text Society, where (p. 7) Nectanabus,
king of Egypt, deceives Olylnpias, wife of Philip, telling her that the god
Alllmon will appear to her in a drealll.
A different version is fonnd in Dubois' Secret History and IJove Adventures
of the Ladies of Antiquity (6 vols., Paris, 1726), of which extracts are given in
the des romans: 10, of Argian J uno, believed that for six
months she had been honoured with frequent nocturnal visits from Jupiter, by
whom she ·was pregnant. It was really Telegonus, who, having fallen in love
with 10, took advantage of her credulity, founel his way to her apartment, and
asserted that he was Jupiter himself con1e to protect and woo her. His visits to
her in that character were very frequent, persuading her to keep their intrigue
an impenetrable secret; lest she should draw upon herself the of
Juno.-The gods thelllselves, however, if we may credit classical and other tales,
452 A of the sTale.
There can be little doubt, I think, that either classical Latin
story or Eastern fiction suggested to Boceaccio the idea of his divert-
ing tale of Friar i\.lbert, of \vhich the following is an abstract
(Deca1nC1'On, Day iv., Nov. 2) :
sore brused: yet feare made him forget his fall, that a\vaye he ran to
a poore man's house, 1vhere he sa1V a light, and there got in, making
an excuse ho\v he had fallen alllong theeves, and so desired lodging.
"The man, having heard talke of the angell Gabriell, knowing
very ,veIl Friar Onyon, that kne,ve not hilll, l(;t hinl have lodgir:g
very ·willinglye, but all this ,vhile that he escapt, ,vere I.Jysetta's
freends seeking for the saint that so tenderly loved their kinse,vonlan :
but they could not finde him, and to heaven he had not flo,vne, for
they had found his wings; sorrye they were that Gabriell had mist
thenl; but they chid hard, and rebuked the fo11ye of Lysetta's selfe
love, that was not onely so credulous, but such a blab aR to reveale
her o\vne secretes: it ,vas late, and because they had mist of their
pnrpose they departed, leaving Lisetta a sorrowfull ,Yoman, that she
was so deceived by the angell Gabriell.
" Well, night passed, and the nlorning call1e, and this paore Illan,
]'riar Onyou's hoast, told him that he knewe not how to shift hin) :
for there ,vas that day a great search for one Fryer ()nyon, that had
escaped naked fr0111 Lysetta's house, and ,vhoso kept hiln in secret
should have his eares 11ailde on the pillory: at this the friar started
and said, 'alas! freend, I anl the nlan, and if by any nleanes thou
eanst canvay llle to the dortor 1 of our friorye, I will give thee fortye
duckats': 'if you 1vill,' quoth his hoast, ' follo,ve nlY coul1sayle, fear
not, I ,vill conveye you thither safe and unknowne j and thus, this
d:lye there is great she,ves 11lade before the Duke of Florence, and
sights to be seene, and divers ,vylde llleu, disguised in strango
attire, are brought into the 111arket place: no,v I will dresse you in
SOlne strange order, and 'with a nlaske over your face, lead you
anlongst the rest, and ,vhen the she"we is done, carrying you as though
I carrye you h0111e, I ,vill conveygh you into the dortor back-
siJe secret and unknO\VnB.' Although this seenled hard to the friar,
yet of t,vo evils the least ,yas to be chosen, and he consented to
suffer what the hoast \vould devise. Whereupon hee that ,vas of a
pleasant conceipt used hinl thus: he annointed hirn over ,vith barIne
Inixed ,vith honeyc, and stuck hinl fun of feathers, and tying him
by the necke with a chaine, put a visor on his face, and on either
1 The dormitory.
Old English Ve1rs'ion. 457
CONCLUSION.
KEIGHTT-JEY thought the story of the Ebony Horse was of Persian
extraction, but he does not adduce any particular reasons for his
opinion. It is evident that all the versions are more or less nearly
related, though some of thenl may be found to differ considerably in
details. In Cleornades the princess asks the hero if he be not a certain
king ,vho has sought her in nlarriage of her father, and he pretends
that he is that personage. In the Arabian tale of the Ebony Horse
the hero pretends only to the eunuch that he is the lady's intended
husband. But in other versions 01' variants the hero-or i111postor-
personates, for his o,vn evil purpose: the Angel of Death, in the
second Arabian story; l\Iuhanl111ed, <in the first Persian and the angel
Gabriel, in the second; the (laity Vishnll, in the Sanskrit; the" son
of the good God," in the first Gipsy version; and so Oll.
'"rhe versions "which present the closest reselnblance arc, ,vhat I
consider as the Sanskrit prototYlJc, of the 'Veaver as Vishnll, and the
flourished in the 15th century, of which my friend 1\11'. Chas. J. Pickering has
kindly furnished me with the following abstract:
Jacopo Pagni, a solemn rogne, for whonl, through his gallantries, Genoa
becarlle too hot, betakes him to a valley twenty nliles off, get:s hold of a
simple W01l13.11, and begins to preach to her the blessed life C" la 'vita' beata");
n1akps her believe that God is going shortly to "bring about the end of the
world, hut that, for the purpose of deprecating and delaying the execution of
hi::; wrath, a "congregation of devout persons" should be formed, to live in
C01n111on under" a rule of good life." His fair saint gathers her sisters about
her. and he ordains a convelltual rule on the Bible: that their speech
should be Yea, yea, and Nay, nay, and that" seven women shall lay hold of one
" iv. 5). flaving read th8111 all the" Penitence of Fra
he tells then1 that the cherubims are con1ing down to gather their. praym'8,
and that in noLhing they gainsay their will. Certain rascals of his
acqnaintnnce so order it that the women begin to whisper to en'ch (lther, "I
aln visited by such and such a cherubin1." Then the women are told they
will Lrillg forth" angels," who will fight Antichrist, and n1ake then1 blessed.
In nine 1l1onths, when the game is patent C" la festa si ''), he tells
tbeln that their angels' wings will not gl'OW for three years, until the" adorat.ion
of the l\lagi." Bu t the joke does not go so far, because one of thenl dies. The
ganle is therefore now played out; so Jacopo junlps oyer the wall by night,
and escapes, no one kno\ys where. "God help the country," adds the story-
teller, ,. where that rascal settles do\v111 "
A nalog1tCS a 45D
some indirect connection "vith the first Gipsy story and the second
Persian, of the 'Veaver as the angel Gabriel.
lflAGIO HORSES.
IT is perhaps worth while to nlention here one or two other very rernark..
able magical, or fairy, steeds which escaped being noticed ill the proper place.
According to the Spanish legend which purports to account for the origin
of the princely fau1ily of .Haro, Don Diego Lopez, lord of Biscay, was lying in
,vait for the wild boar, when he heard the voice of a W0111an singing. The
damsel was standing on the summit of a rock, exceedingly beautiful and rich ly
attired. Don Diego offered to marry her. She told him that she was of high
degree, and accepted hand, on this condition, he was never to pronounce a
holy name. The fair bride had one foot. like the foot of a goat, and this was
her only blemish. Diego loved her ,vell, and had two children by her, a SOIl,
named Iniguez Guerra, and a daughter. It happened as they were sitting at
table that the Lord of Biscay threw a bone to the dogs; a mastiff and a spaniel
quarrelled ahout it, and the spaniel griped the mastiff by the throat and
strangled hitn. "Holy l\Iary!" exclainled Don Diego, "who ever sa:w the
like I " The lady instantly grasped the hands of hel' children. Diego seized
the brother, but tIle mother glided through the air with the danghter to the
mountains. 1 In course of time Don Diego Lopez invaded the land of the
1\1:oors, who took him captive and bound him, and as a prisoner they led hiul
to Toledo. Greatly did Iniguez GUeI'ra grieve at the captivity of his father;
and the men of the land told him that there was no help unless he could find
his u1other. Iniguez rode alone to the mountains, and, behold! his fairy Inother
stood on a rock. "1\ly son," said she, "come to me, for well I know thy
errand." And she called Pardallo, the horse who ran without a rider in the
u10untains, and put a bridle in his mouth; and told Guerra that he
nlust give him neither food nor water, nor unsaddle hiln, nor unbridle hin},
nor put shoes on his feet.; and that in one single day the denlon steed would
carry him to Toledo.--The steed of Iniguez Guerra relninds us of the luysteri.
1 "VVhen a fairy consented to espouse a human being, she usually enjoiuec1 on her
husband secrecy, constancy, and inlplicit-unquestioning-obedience to her corn·
mands, and should he act contrary to this condition he should for ever forfeit her
love, but sometimes the penalty was for a liInited period. This is fully exeulplified
in the romance of lJIIelusine, and the of Si?- Gnuflan and /":,z,r Lanval,.. in the
Persian story of King Ruzvanshah and his fairy bride, and the Turkis l1 story (frOl11
the Persian, no doubt) of King Yashrah and the daughter of the gelJii, for both of
which Ree my Eastern Romances and St01"ies, pp . 472-474.
LANE. H H
464 Addit1;onal Notes.
ous horse of Giraldo de Cabrerio, the Knight of Catalonia, who always brought
good fortune to his master. This horse could dance amongst the beauties of
the court of King Alphonsus to the sound of the viol, and do many other acts
bespeaking strange intelligence, far surpassing a horse's capacity. Gel'vase of
Tilbury could not settle the gen1ls of this animal to his satisfaction: "If he
was a horse," exclaims the chancellor, "how could he perform such feats? If
he was a fairy, why did he, eat? " 1
A king wins a beauteous bride by means of a flying horse in a Siamese
I'omance entitled Nang P'J'atlw'in. This is a story of a wonderful lotus, which
a rishi (holy man) saw in a tank, and which after some tinle increased to such
a size that be was induced to open it. To his great surprise, he found a fenlale
child in the cup, which he brought up. When grown to W0I11an'S estate, she
longed for society, and wrote on a slip of paper an account of her solitary
mode of life with the hernlit, and tying it to a nosegay cast it to the winds.
A certain king had a dream, in which he was directed to go in quest of a par-
ticular bouquet of flowers. He awoke, and mounting a flying horse set off
towards the east. Passing over the 1'ishi's house, he was attracted by plaintive
and exquisite vocal music. The flying horse instinctively descended to the
earth. The king inquired of the lotus-born damsel if she knew to whom the
nosegay belonged. She, abashed at the sight of a youthful person of the
other sex, rushed into the hom;e and closed the door. The king pretended to
be faint from fatigue, and at his humble intercession was adnlitted into the
house, where he so gained the affection of the girl that she consented to become
his wife, and on the return of the rishi from the forest he uni ted them in
MAGIO RINGS.
THE dwarfs and elves possessed rings by means of which they discovered
and gained for themselves the treasures of the earth. 'They gave their friends
magic rings which brought good luck to the owners as long as they were care-
fully preserved, but the loss of thenl was attended with unspeakable misery.
1 See the very interesting article on 'Popnlar Mythology in the l\iiJdle Ages,'
in the Quarterly Revie'lo, No. XLIV., Jalluary, 1820.
2 From an account of Siamese Literature, by Capt. James Low, in
Researches, vol. xx. part 2,
Additional Notes. 465
A Polish count once received a ring of this kind fronl a mannikin, whom he
bad allowed to celebrate his Dlarriage festivities in the state-roollls of his
castle. vVith this jewel on his finger he was lucky in all his undertakings;
his estates prospered; his wealth becanle enormous. His son enjoyed the
same good fortune, and his grandson also, who both inherited the talisnlan in
turn. The last heir gained a prince's coronet, anrl fought with distinction in
the Polish army. He accidentally lost the ring while at play, and could never
recover it, although he offered an immense reward for its restoration. Fr0111
that moment his luck forsook him; locusts devoured his harvest, earthquakes
swallowed his castles.!
There seems indeed no end to the ,vonderful qualities of magic rings. In
a Hungarian Gipsy tale an old 'woman says to the hero: "Go into that cap,tle,
and there is a lady, and take from her the ring, and put it on thy hand, and
turn it thrice, and then so much meal and bread will be to thee that thou wilt
not know what to do with it." 2
In the romance of lJIelltsi,ne tllat fairy lady gives two magic rings to Ray-
mondin, her husband elect, of which, she informs him, "the stones ben of
gl'ette vertue. For the one hath suche appropriete, that he to whome hit shal
be gyuen by paramours or loue, shal not dey by no stroke of no manere of
wepen, ne by none armes, as longe ap, he shal bere it on hym. And the other
is of such vertue, that he that bereth it on hym, shal baue victory of all his
euyl willers or enemyes, al be it pletyng in Courtes, or fygbtyng in feldes, or
ellis whersoeuer it be: and thus, my friend, ye may goo surely." And when
hel" sons Dryan and Guyon are setting out to help the king of Cyprus, wbo is
uesieged by the sultan of Damascus, she gives each a magic ring, saying:
" Uhildren, here be two rynges that I gyue you, of whiche the stones ben of
one lyke vertue. And wete it that as long that ye shall vse of feythfulnes,
without to think ellY euyl, ne doo trychery or hynderaunce to other, hauyng
al wayes the said rynges & stones vpon you, ye shall not be dyscomfyted ne
ouercome in no faytte of al'mes, yf ye haue good quarell. Ne also sort or
enchauntment of art Magique, ne poysons of whatsomeuer manere shul not
lette ne greve you, but that assoone as ye shall see them they shall lese theyre
strengthe." 3
LANGUAGE OF ANljl:lALS.
THE Troubadours of Provence and their northern brethren the Trouveres
were fond of introducing talking birds in their compositions. Thus in the
fablia'u of Florence and Blanchefleur, also called Hueline and Eglantine,
or the Judgment of Love, the two damsels dispute regarding the relative
1 Asgard and the Gods: Tales and of our Northern Ancestors. Abridged
from Dr. 'Vagner's work. London, 1884, p. 41.
2 One of five Hungarian Gipsy tales given in Beitl'age ZU1' Kenntniss de'l" Rom.
Sprache, by Dr. Friedrich Muller, Vienna, 1869.
3 Pages 33 and 110 of the old English prose romance of Melusine, now being
printed for the Early Engr sh Text Society, from a unique l\tIS. of about the year
1500. It was originally written in :f'rench by J obn of Arras, and was commenced,
he inforn1s us, on St. Clement's Day, 1387.
HH2
466 Additional Notes.
superiority of a knight or a clerk as a lover, and at length subn1it their case
to a court of Love. The sparrowhawk, lllagpie, cuckoo, jay, and falcon are in
favour of knighthood; the wren, dove, lark, and goldfinch are in favour of
clerks. Then the nightingale conles forward as the chanlpion of clerks, as being
1l10st courteous, and a battle ensues between him and the parrot., and the
nightingale is victor. Florence dies of a broken heart, and on her tonlb these
words are inscribed: "A Knight's fair mistress here sepulchred lies."
1\11'. F. F. Arbuthnot, in his Arabic Autlu))',']: Cl J1Ia'nual of A7'abian
IIi,story and Li,teJ'atuJ'e (which is at 011ce illstructive and entertaining), gives
the following little tale: S010n10n was returning to his palace one day when
he saw a pair of sparrows sitting near the gateway, and heard the luale Linl
telling his 11late that he was the person who designed and Luil t all the
surroundings. The sage monarch remarked to the male bird that he luuSt be
aware he was telling a lie, and that nobody would credit him. "That is true,"
replied the sparrow; "nobody will credit 11ly story, except TI1Y wife, who
believes everything I say."-There is another characteristic Eastern tale,
found in several collections: SolOlllon once sumu10ned the different kinds of
birds to his presence, and an were assembled but the sparrow, when the king
despatched the simurgh Ca nlythical Ifvuncle}'vogel, like the rukh, or roc, of the
Arabian tales) to ascertain the cause of his absence. The simurgh found the
sparrow in his nest along with his 11late, and, having- duly delivered the king's
11lessag-e, received for answer the sparrow's declaration, that he cared nothing-
for him or Solomon, which having been reported to the king, he observed that
allY person was excusable for in his own house, and in presence of his
o\vn wife.
Confab. of tlw Tlvo 370. Soulewhat akin to this story is one in
G'il Blas, Book VIII., ch. vi., 'where the hero gives his luaster, the Duke of
Lenna, a hint of his wretched condition under cover of what he calls " an
Indian story from Pilpay or some other fabulist" (it is not in any version of
the Fables of Pilpay known to me), to this effect: A Persian ulinister, Altal-
lunc, had a secretary nanled Zeangir, and one day while they were walking
together, they observed two ravens croaking on a tree, and Altalmuc wondered
what they were talking about. Zeangir said that a dervish had taught hin1
the language of birds, and after pretending to listen for son1e little time he
told his master that one bird was praising Altalmuc for his great wisdom, and
so on. "Fair and softly," says the other. "Look how he neglects his faithful
secretary Zeangir-never troubles hiu1self to inquire into his condition," &c.
IN Hahn's collection of Greek and Albanian popular tales, No. 46, the
friend of a rich man makes him a travelling chest which carried him through
the air whither he would. He comes to a countlT ruled by a king, of whose
daughter it had been predicted that an ad venturer would carry her off, so he
had shut her up in a castle. vVhen the traveller learns this he goes in his
chest to the castle, and gaining access to the princess tells her that he is "the
son of the dear God," who has sent him thither to take her to wife, because he
knows that her father is a righteous nUtll. The princess inforlllS her father of
this, and he believes it. 'fhe ilnpostor tells thelll: "To-morrow I shall not
come to you, for the dear God will thunder and lighten, but you nlust come
befoloe the t.own and worship him." Next day he buys a lot of powder and
pistols, and towards evening nlounts in his chest into the air, whence he shoots
down on the town, and nlakes such a racket that all the folk are terrified.
He then descends, hides his chest, and goes into the town to hear ,vhat the
king and his grandees are saying about the "nlanifestation." On returning
he finds his precious chest burned to ashes. He sets out to ask his friend
to nlake hinl a.nother chest., but he is dead. "The Idng and the great lllen
thought that something had displeased the dear God, and therefore he had
not allowed his son to return." 1
This version bears a general resemLlance to both the Arabian tale of the
Flying Ohair and the Persian tale of the Flying Ohest. No mention is made
in the Arabian version of the princess being shut up in a palace because of a
prediction of astrologers, though such is implied in the Persian story, fronl the
king's remark, when the damsel inforrns hinl that she is becollle the Prophet's
spouse: "I now see how useless it is to strive against the decrees of Fa.te.
Your horoscope is fulfilled. A traitor has seduced you!' '-po 423. On the
other hand the impostor's vanquishing an invading army is absent fronl the
Greek version. There is another point of resemblance in SOBle of the versions
to the Hindu prototype, in which the princess is confined in a palace having
seven p. 430: in the fit'st Gipsy tale she is shut up in a great house,
which is encircled by .r;eren high ?valls," p. 440; in the first Persian it is
"a lofty palace, with gates of China steel," p. 422. It is also to be noted that
the princess is discovered a.r;leep by the adventurer in Clpomade.r;, the Arabian
tale of the Flying Chair, the Persian tnle of the Flying Chest, and enchanted
in the Turkish and second Gipsy Vp. 389, 419, 422, 418, 443.
But what will perhH,ps he considered by story-con1parers as the most
remarkable feature of the Greek version is the man's" declaring him-
self to be "the sou of the good God," as in the tale of the Wooden
Bird (p. 441). Is this nlerely or did the Greek peasants derive the
idea fronl UipRy story-te]]ers? Observe, farther, that in both tales it is a
man who obtains feOlIl a fl'iend a luagical vehicle. And ret the Greek
1 'Del' l\iann nlit del' Reiskiste,' Hahn, 1. 261. F1'0111 notes to .1.\'11'. C1'oOlne'.s J1B.
collectioll of C;ipsy Tales-refe1're<1 to ill p. 4-11.
468 Addih'onal Notes.
is otherwise a much closer parallel to the Persian tale than to the
Gipsy variant, however this may have come through a SOIne·
what confused recollection of both versions.
INDEX
TO MR. CLOUSTON'S PAPERS ON rfHE SQUIRE'S 'l'..4LF}.
Abjer, the stred of Antnr, 280. Balll1uflg, the s\vord of Velent, 380.
Achilles, the spear of, 372. BalF:funo, Joseph, 318.
Adenes le Roj, 382, 383. /. ClsqUe. Lrgends, 365.
Ainsworth, W. H., 311. Beast-Fahle, origin of, 351.
'A,jcfib el-1nct'asir, &c., 362. BeaUlnont's description of" a Inagic
Albanian Tales, 28G, 288,347,365. glafs, 329.
AJchenl]sts, astrologerR 1 &c., 350. Beloe'H Mlscel1allies, 450.
TVars oj; 451. Benfey's 427.
Al-Fara,j ba'd al-Sldddah, 426. 1
Beryn, I ale 01, 275, 276.
A 1 ales of the, 289,305,358.
1
BibU0theque des romans, 385, 451.
Ali, lVII's. Meer Hasan, 413. Bidpay's FableR, 427.
AnL/s and Arniloun, 47l. Birnha-tree, 429.
Analogues cornpared, 411, 458, 467, Bird-langung-e, 348-351,465.
468. Birds, lllugieal wooden, 290, 430,
Ananga Ranga, 431. 440.
Andersen's Danish Tales, 425, 450. Birds, rnonstrol1s. 284.
Antar's steed Abjer, 280; his svvord Birds' predictions, stories of, 352,
Dhnmi, 377. 358,362.
Apollonius of Tyftna, 306. BirdR, secrets learned frotn, 351-
Arabian Tales, 283, 294, 304, 305, 355.
330, 331, 339, 348, 365, 377, 378, Birds, storief:; of 360, 36t.
413, 418. Biting and scratching, in love, 432.
Arabic nUlnera]s, 350. Blue, coloul' of trutb, 274.
Arbuthnot, F. F., 466. BoccacC'jo'f:; Decameron, 275, 452.
Archangels, the four, 419. Bojardo's Orlando Innanu)rafo, 379.
Arr'hytas the Tarentine, i99. Boys enlrloyed by Inagicians, 312,
Arddhanarisvara, 438. 3:20, 321, 327, 328.
Ariosto's 379. Brahlna, the egg of, 429.
A rthur's sword Excfllibar, 375. Brandl 011 the l 'ale, 460.
ANclllnedai = 1\ stnodeus, the "fami- Bridle, n1agiral in, 272, 287,
liar" of Solonl0n, 335. 446.
AHhlTIole, Elias, 31!. Broomstick, W-itCll'S, 296.
Auspicious day, 293. Bro\vn's '1'urldsh Everdngs, 363.
Autoruata, vvooden, 298, 299. Brovvne, Sir TllOS., on properties of
genls, 346.
Baron, Roger, 310, 312. Buddhist Birth-stories, 378.
Danush, 294. Burrnese Tales, 347.
] (dtal Pachisz, 462. Bnrton, 8:1' H. F., 285.
Balfour's eye. of India, 435. Butler's IIudibl'as, B11.
Index to ],{1\ OlO'ltston's Papers on the' Sq1.ti1·e's Tale.' 473
Cagliostro.31ft Dravidial1 Nights, 347, 352,450,471.
Carnbyuskan, the nan1P, 270. Dubois' Love ad ventures of Ladies
Carnoen's Lnshul, 309. of antiquity, 451.
Cmnpbell's Pupular Tales of the Durga, 414, 439.
TJTest H1'ghlands, 2R-t Dwarfs, as ring-makers, 464; as
Canace's Ring. 271, 340, 348, 356. sword-ruakers, 376.
Oanterbttry '.1 'ales, (;haracters \vith-
ont storieR, 275. Ebony Horse, story of the, 413.
Carpet, Flying, 294. 38Q
Celinde et Jlel hf/rchus, 384. Egyptian ron1ance, 352.
Ceylon, old nalnes of, 436. Ellis' Original Letters, 319.
Champion of England, 278. Enchanted girls, 373 418, 443.
i