The Grateful Dead Part 8

As has already been shown, [105] Simrock regarded as an essential feature of The Grateful Dead the release of a maiden from captivity by the hero. Stephens and Hippe [106] saw that such was not the case. The latter's treatment of the matter [107] leaves little to be desired as far as it goes, save that it implies a derivation of the compound The Grateful Dead + The Ransomed Woman from the compound treated in the last chapter--a view which I believe erroneous.

The Ransomed Woman appears as a separate tale or in combination with other themes than The Grateful Dead more than once. A prolonged study of the motive would probably yield a rich harvest of examples, though it is sufficient for the present purpose to refer to Hippe's article as establishing the existence of the form. His Wendish folk-tale [108] and Guter Gerhard, from the latter of which Simrock started his enquiry, are of themselves evidence enough. [109] Neither example has anything whatever to do with The Grateful Dead. [110] The characteristics of The Ransomed Woman will appear as we consider the compound type, which contains folk-tales almost exclusively, as was the case with the type studied in the previous chapter, but in most cases from Western Europe instead of from both Asia and Europe.

Nineteen variants have The Grateful Dead and The Ransomed Woman combined in a comparatively simple form without admixture with related themes. These are: Servian I., Lithuanian I., [111] Hungarian II., Transylvanian, Catalan, Spanish, Trancoso, Nicholas, Gasconian, Straparola I., Istrian, Gaelic, Breton III., [112] Swedish, Norwegian I., Icelandic I. and II., and Simrock IV. and VI.

In Servian I. a merchant's son, while on a journey, ransoms a company of slaves whom he finds in the hands of freebooters. Among them is a beautiful maiden with her nurse. He marries the lady, who proves to be the daughter of an emperor. On a second voyage he ransoms two peasants, who have been imprisoned for not paying their taxes to the emperor. On his third journey he comes to his father-in-law's court, and is sent back for his wife. He is, however, cast into the sea by a former lover of the princess, and succeeds in getting ash.o.r.e on a lonely island, where he remains for fifteen days and fifteen nights. [113] Then an angel in the disguise of an old man appears to him, and, on condition of receiving half of his possessions, brings him to court, where he is reunited with his wife. After renouncing his claim, the old man explains who he is, and disappears.

The most striking peculiarity of the variant is the loss of the burial, for which appears rather awkwardly the ransoming of some peasants on the hero's second voyage. That subst.i.tution has occurred is apparent, however, both from the clumsiness of the device by which the original trait is replaced, and from the angel in the form of an old man, who takes the role of the ghost. It will be remembered that the same subst.i.tution has already been met with in the case of Tobit and Russian II.

In Lithuanian I. is found a variant which, as we shall find, is of a common type. A king's son pays three hundred gold-pieces, all that he possesses, to release a dead man from his creditors and have him buried. The hero then becomes a merchant, and finds a princess on an island, whither she has been driven by a storm. He takes her to a city, where he makes his home, and marries her. A messenger, sent out by her father to seek her, arrives, takes them aboard ship, and pitches the hero into the sea in order to obtain the offered reward. He is saved by a man in a boat, who says that he is the ghost of the dead, and instructs him how to rejoin his bride. So everything ends happily.

The events as here related follow a very normal course, which is repeated again and again in stories of this type: a burial, a ransom, an act of treachery, a rescue by the ghost, and a happy reunion of the lovers. The agreement between the hero and the ghost, which is found in Servian I., and very frequently elsewhere, is lacking, however. A peculiarity of the variant is the change in status of the hero. He is a prince, but becomes a merchant, thus uniting the two characters given him in the other tales of this cla.s.s.

Hungarian II. is in some respects more interesting than the variant just cited. A merchant's son while in Turkey pays the debts and for the burial of a mistreated corpse. After returning home, he goes to England and rescues a French princess with her two maids, but by his cunning saves the gold that he has agreed to pay for them. At her bidding he goes to Paris and tells the king that she is safe. On his return to bring her to her home, where he is to marry her, he is placed on a desert island by a general who is enamoured of the princess. Thence he is rescued by an old man, the ghost of the dead, who takes him to the Continent. He goes to Paris, where he is recognized by the princess, when he drops a ring that she has given him into a beaker. When she comes to him in his room, he threatens to kill her if she does not go away; but when she agrees that he has the right to do so since he has saved her life, he says that his threat was only a test of loyalty. So the story ends happily.

The course of events is not very different from that of Lithuanian I., since the variant has all the normal elements save the agreement between the ghost and the hero. A peculiarity is the final scene in which the hero tests his lady. It will be evident, I think, that this is an obscured and modified form of the test to which the ghost elsewhere submits the hero, a test of fidelity likewise, though different in its nature.

In the Transylvanian variant, a merchant's son while on a journey pays fifty florins, half of his capital, for the burial of a dead man. On a second journey he pays one hundred florins, again one-half of his store, for the ransom of a princess who has been imprisoned while out doing charity incognito. She gives him a ring and sends him to the castle, where her father turns him out of doors. He then meets an old man--the ghost--and promises him one-half of his gains after seven years for his help. He is then enabled to marry the princess, who recognizes him, at the castle by his ring. They have two children. When the old man comes back at the end of seven years, the hero gives up one of his children, and, after offering her whole, is ready to divide his wife. The old man renounces his claim, and disappears.

Every step in the narrative is here clearly marked, even to the conditional agreement with the ghost, which so frequently is wanting. The variant thus appears to be entirely normal as far as The Grateful Dead goes, though it does not have the rescue by the ghost--an important feature of The Ransomed Woman.

In Catalan [114] a young man on a journey has a poor man buried at his expense, and ransoms a princess. Later he goes to the court of her parents with a flag on which she has embroidered her name. They recognize this, and send the youth back for the lady. On the way he is cast into the sea by the sailors, but is saved by the thankful dead and brought to the court again, where he espouses the princess.

In Spanish [115] a young Venetian merchant pays the debts of a Christian at Tunis, and has him buried. At the house of the creditor he also buys a Christian slave girl. He takes her back to Venice and marries her. At the wedding a sea-captain recognizes the lady, and lures the couple aboard his ship. The young man is cast into the sea, but by clinging to a plank reaches land, where he lives seven months with a hermit. At the end of that time he is sent to the coast, where he finds a ship, and is transported to Ireland. There he is entrusted by the captain with two letters to the king. The one says that he is a great physician, who will heal the sick princess; the other that the plank, the hermit, and the captain who has brought him to Ireland are one and all the ghost of the man whom he buried. The hero is recognized at court by the princess, who has been brought thither by the traitor, and has explained all to her father.

In these tales the theme of The Grateful Dead is somewhat abbreviated for the sake of the romantic features of the secondary motive. In both, the agreement with the ghost and every trace of a division have disappeared, though they differ in the details of the treachery by which the lovers are separated. In the former [116] much is made of the manner by which the hero gets a favourable reception at the court of the princess's father, while in the latter this is suppressed. Recognition by some such means, it will appear, is an important feature of the majority of the variants in this section. It must be remembered, of course, that Spanish is a semi-literary version, even though popular in origin.

Trancoso, the work of a sixteenth century Portuguese story-teller, is even more consciously literary. It shows, besides, the tendency of the narrative to take on a religious colouring. The son of a Lusitanian merchant, while in Fez on a trading expedition, buys the relics of a Christian saint. In spite of his father's anger, he does this a second time, and is so successful in retailing the bones that he is sent out a third time with instructions to buy as many relics as possible. On this expedition, however, he succeeds merely in ransoming a Christian girl, whom he takes home. At her request he carries to the King of England a piece of linen, on which she has embroidered the story of her adventures. He learns that she is the king's daughter, and restores her to her father. Subsequently he wanders over Europe in despair, for he has hoped to marry the princess, till he meets with two minstrels, who accompany him to the English court. There he makes himself known to the princess by a song; and, by the aid of the two minstrels, he wins her hand in a tournament. Later the two friends reveal themselves as the saints whose bones he had rescued from the Moors.

Though this version clearly belongs in the category now under discussion, it has certain features that can be explained only on the supposition that Trancoso altered his source to suit his personal fancy. The clever subst.i.tute for actual burial, the duplication of that trait (which occurs nowhere else), the humorous touch with reference to the hero's success in selling relics, and the appearance of the ghosts as minstrels, are all strokes of individual invention. The wanderings of the hero and his manner of revealing himself to the princess are doubtless reminiscences from the popular romances of Spain, while the tournament probably comes, as Menendez y Pelayo hints, [117] from an earlier version of our theme, Oliver, which will be treated below. In spite of these peculiarities, the ordinary features of the combined theme are not more obscured than in the two preceding variants. The agreement, the division, and the rescue are the only ones that disappear.

In the fourteenth century variant from Scala Celi, Nicholas, our story is altogether transformed into a legend. The only son of a widow [118] of Bordeaux is sent as a merchant to a distant city with fifty pounds. He gives it all to help rebuild a church of St Nicholas, and returns home empty-handed. Much later he is sent out with one hundred pounds, and buys the Sultan's daughter. His mother disowns him, and he is supported by the embroidery which the princess makes. With her wares he goes to a festival at Alexandria, but, at her bidding, keeps away from the castle. When he journeys to Alexandria a second time, however, he goes to the castle and is imprisoned, as the handiwork of the princess is recognized. She is sent for, while the hero is released and goes home. Since he does not find the maiden there, he returns to Alexandria with a piece of embroidery which she has sent him, meets her, and elopes by the aid of St. Nicholas, who sends them a ship opportunely.

Because of its legendary character the variant has been materially transformed, but not beyond recognition. The thankful dead is replaced by the saint throughout, so that the burial is altered into church building, and both the agreement and the division of the gains disappear. The various elements of The Ransomed Woman fare better: the act of treachery done the hero is the only one lacking, and that perhaps is replaced by his imprisonment in the Sultan's castle. It is remarkable that the details of the narrative have been so little altered in spite of its complete change of purpose.

In the Gasconian folk-tale Jean du Boucau, the son of a mariner, goes to fight the corsairs. On the sh.o.r.e of the sea he rescues a man named Uartia, who is pretending death to escape from his creditors. Later this man becomes a prosperous freebooter, and is sailing with a load of captives when met again by Jean. The latter is so shocked by his evil deeds that he encloses him in the coffin prepared for him on the previous occasion, and throws him into the sea. Jean then marries the most beautiful of the captives, who is the daughter of the King of Bilbao.

The variant is excessively rationalized, it will be observed, and most traces of The Grateful Dead have disappeared. Though various subst.i.tutions for the burial are found in each of the groups, this is the only case that I know where the man plays 'possum to escape his creditors. The story is likewise unique in making the hero take vengeance on the man whom he has helped earlier, and accordingly in making him rescue the maiden from the hands of the person who is in the character of the thankful dead. The variant has been modified by a free fancy; yet its position in the group remains perfectly clear in spite of the loss of such traits as the agreement, the act of treachery, the rescue of the hero, and the division of the gains.

Straparola I., one of the Italian novelist's two renderings of our theme, is far more normal than the above, and is probably based directly on a folk-story. Bertuccio pays one hundred ducats to free a corpse from a robber and bury it, greatly to his mother's disgust. He goes out again with two hundred ducats, and pays them for the ransom of the daughter of the King of Navarre. His mother is still more angry. The princess is taken home to Navarre by officers of the court who have been searching for her, but first she tells Bertuccio to come to her, and to hold his hand to his head as a sign when he hears that she is to be married. On his way to Navarre he meets a knight who gives him a horse and clothing on condition of his returning them, together with half of his gains. He marries the princess, and is returning home, when he meets the knight again and offers to give up his wife whole rather than kill her by division. Whereupon the knight explains that he is the spirit of the dead, and resigns his claim.

All the traits previously mentioned are here evident save the act of treachery by which the hero comes near losing his bride. The sign appears as a means of communication between the lovers, as in Transylvanian and elsewhere. The question of division is simply a matter of fulfilling a bargain, but it shows how easily by a slight shift of emphasis the test of loyalty could be made the important element.

None of the Italian folk variants, which I know, conforms to the above closely enough to be regarded as a near relative. Istrian, however, belongs in the same category. A youth called Fair Brow sets out to trade with six thousand scudi, which he pays to bury a debtor on the sh.o.r.e, for whom pa.s.sers-by are giving alms. On his return home, he tells his father that he has been robbed, and again is sent out with six thousand scudi. He pays these for a maiden, who has been stolen from the Sultan, and he is consequently disowned by his father. After his marriage to the girl, the young couple live by the sale of the wife's paintings. Some sailors of the Sultan see these, and carry the lady off home. Fair Brow goes fishing with an old man whom he meets by the sea. They are driven by a storm to Turkey, and are sold to the Sultan as slaves, but they escape with the wife and considerable treasure. The old man then asks for a division of the property, even of the woman. When the hero offers him three-quarters of the wealth in order to keep the woman, the old man declares that he is the ghost, and disappears.

All of the essential traits, except the preliminary agreement and the rescue of the hero, are here clearly marked. The latter is, indeed, probably accounted for by the storm which the hero and the ghost encounter together. The fact that the young couple live by the sale of the wife's handiwork, and that this in some way or other leads to her restoration to her parents or earlier connections, is an important feature of The Ransomed Woman, being found clearly in the Wendish tale as well as in many variants of the compound type.

Gaelic is an interesting example of the theme. Iain, the son of a Barra widow, becomes the master of a ship and goes to Turkey, where he pays the debts of a dead Christian and buries the corpse. He ransoms a Christian maiden, the daughter of the King of Spain, with her servant, on the same journey, and takes her back to England, together with much gold. At her advice he goes to Spain and attends church, where the king recognizes by his clothing, his ring, his book, and his whistle that he has news of the lost princess. Iain then returns to England for the maiden, whom he is to marry. While going with her to Spain he is left on a desert island by a general, who has secreted himself on the ship; but after a time he is rescued by a man in a boat, to whom he promises half of his wife and of his children, if he shall have any. In Spain the princess, who has gone mad, recognizes him when he plays his whistle. So they are married, and the general burned. When three sons have been born, the rescuer appears and asks for his share; but as soon as Iain accedes he declares himself to be the ghost, and disappears.

Apart from the dressing of the story, which is unusually good, the variant follows the normal course. The several signs by which the hero is recognized by the king and the princess mark the imaginative wealth of the Celt, though the appearance of a ring, and the fact that the hero is left on a desert island by an infatuated general, show a close correspondence with Hungarian II. The introduction of the children as part of the property to be divided is interesting, since it shows the connecting link by which the simple compound now under consideration pa.s.sed into combination with the theme of The Two Friends. [119] Gaelic, however, clearly belongs where it is here placed. The healing of the princess at the hero's coming reminds one of the similar trait in Spanish.

Breton III. [120] is peculiar in several ways. A young man, who had been unjustly cast off by his parents, put himself under the protection of St. Corentin and the Virgin. To an old woman he gave all his stock of money that she might bury her husband and have ma.s.ses said for his soul. The saint and the Virgin then led the hero to a n.o.bleman, whose daughter he married. On a hunt he was cast into the sea by an envious uncle of his wife, at a time when she was pregnant; but he was brought to an island by some mysterious power and nourished there for five years by St. Corentin. Finally an old man appeared and took him home after he had promised half of his possessions to the rescuer. When a year had pa.s.sed, the old man came back and demanded half of the child; but just as the mysterious stranger was about to divide the child St. Corentin and the Virgin appeared and explained their ident.i.ty, together with that of the old man, who was the saint himself. They told the hero, furthermore, that G.o.d was well pleased with him, and would take his son and himself to Paradise. Father and son fell dead immediately, while the wife went into a convent.

This tale, like Nicholas, has been dressed up as a legend, chiefly in the praise of St. Corentin, with the result that the elements are confused. The burial, however, persists, though the ransoming of the woman has been feebly replaced by the aid of the saint and the Virgin. The hero is cast into the sea by an avaricious uncle of the bride, again a weakened trait. The rescue and the agreement to divide are normal in essentials, though adorned with superfluous miracles, as is again the conclusion of the tale. It ill.u.s.trates how easily such a narrative may be adapted, whether consciously or not, to a religious purpose. The division of the child, which comes in question, is of precisely the same character as in Gaelic; it does not imply the presence of a new motive, though it indicates the possibility of a new combination.

Swedish [121] is a somewhat abbreviated form of the normal type. Pelle Btsman, while on a journey, pays the debts of a dead man, and so brings repose to him; for he has been hunted from his grave and soundly beaten every night by his creditors, who are likewise dead. Pelle then falls in with robbers, with whom he finds the daughter of the King of Armenia. He escapes with her, and goes on board a ship to seek her father, but he is thrown overboard by the envious captain. He is saved by the thankful dead and brought to Armenia, where he marries the princess. Here the burial is peculiar in that the dead man is hara.s.sed by creditors who are already dead. This is a marvel, which need excite no surprise in view of the modifications of the trait found elsewhere. The ransom in this case does not imply a money payment, since the hero escapes from robbers with the maiden. The way in which the hero is left behind by the master of the vessel on which the lovers sail is a trait similar to the one in Catalan and Spanish. The agreement between the hero and the ghost, the sign employed by the hero, and the division of gains are all lacking; but no new feature replaces them.

Norwegian I. [122] is not very different from the preceding tale. A man in the service of a merchant pays all he has, while on one voyage, to bury the body of a dead man. On his next voyage he ransoms a princess, and sets out with her for England. On the way she is carried off by her brother and a former suitor. The hero overtakes them and is given a ring by the lady, but is cast into the sea by the suitor. For seven years he lives on a desert isle, till an old man appears, tells him that it is the princess's bridal day, carries him to England, and gives him a flask. This the hero sends to his lady, is thus recognized, and is married. The agreement with the ghost and the division of the woman are entirely lacking, though the burial, the ransom, the treachery of the suitor, and the aid of the ghost appear in normal fashion. The sign enters only as a means of communication between the lovers. The tale thus has no very unusual traits.

Icelandic I. [123] is a fuller, and, for our purpose, more interesting variant than the last. Thorsteinn, a king's son, who has wasted his substance, sells his kingdom and sets forth into the world. He pays two hundred rix-dollars to free from debt a dead man, whose grave is beaten every day by a creditor to destroy his rest. The prince goes on, and in the castle of a giant finds a princess hanging by the hair. He frees her, and is taking her home when he meets Raudr, a knight to whom her hand has been promised if he can find her. Raudr puts the prince to sea alone in a boat and carries the lady home. Thorsteinn, however, is brought thither also by the ghost and is recognized by the princess, when she is about to be married to the traitor. So Raudr is punished, and Thorsteinn obtains the princess.

Here, again, the agreement, the sign, and the division do not appear, though the version is otherwise normal. To be sure, the ransom of the lady is replaced by a rescue, as in Swedish, and the beating of the grave preserves a bit of northern superst.i.tion, which is interesting even though not primitive as far as our tale is concerned. [124]

Icelandic II. is similar to the variant just cited in several particulars, though it has important differences. Vilhjalmur, a merchant's son, loses his property and becomes the servant of twelve robbers. In their den he finds a princess named asa hanging by the hair. He escapes with her by sea, taking along the thieves'

treasure. This he pays to have the body of a debtor buried. To the haven where this happens comes Rauur in search of the princess, takes the couple on his ship, but puts the hero to sea in a rudderless boat. A man appears to Vilhjalmur in a dream, saying that he is the ghost of the man whom he has buried, and that he will bring him to land and show him treasure. So the hero is brought to the land of the princess and tells his story at the wedding of the traitor with the princess. Thus the bride is won for him.

The hero, it will be observed, is a merchant instead of a prince, as in Icelandic I., and the burial of the dead is customary in form though exceptionally placed in the narrative. Otherwise the two variants correspond rather closely, even in such a detail as the name of the traitor. There is the same omission of elements peculiar to The Grateful Dead, the same preponderance of the secondary motive, found in all the northern versions of this particular group. The two Icelandic variants seem to be perfectly distinct, though they are nearly related.

The two German folk-tales which fall into this group are not very different from one another. In Simrock IV. a merchant's son pays the debts of a man who is being devoured by dogs, but does not succeed in saving his life. He goes on, finds two maidens exposed on a rock, and takes them home. In spite of his father's objections, he marries one of them. He goes to sea again, wearing a ring that his wife has given him, and carrying a flag marked with her name. Coming to the royal court of her father, he is sent back for the princess with a minister. On his voyage to court again he is put overboard by the minister, who hopes thus to win the princess. However, he is cast up on an island, where the ghost of the dead man appears to him in sleep and transports him miraculously to court. There he is recognized by his ring and reunited to his wife.

Details such as those concerning the burial, the rescue of the lady, and the help given miraculously by the ghost mark the independence of the variant, though they do not alter the normal course of the narrative. As so often in this group, the agreement with the ghost and the division are entirely lacking.

In Simrock VI. the variations from the normal are even slighter. Heinrich of Hamburg buys a beautiful maiden in a foreign land. On the sea-coast, when he is returning home with her, he pays the debts of a corpse and has it buried. He wishes to marry the girl, but she asks that he delay the wedding for a year and make a journey first. So she gives him two coffers, with which he crosses the sea. By the help of a shipman he finds his betrothed's royal father, but on his way back to fetch her home is cast overboard by the mariner, who is the original kidnapper of the maiden. This man gets her and carries her to the court with the hope of marrying her. The hero is saved from the sea, however, by the ghost of the dead man, who brings him to the garden of the princess's palace, where he is found by his bride.

The order of the burial and the ransoming [125] is here reversed, but the facts are given in the ordinary form. Otherwise the variant does not differ essentially from the preceding.

In Transylvanian, [126] and more clearly in Gaelic and Breton III., [127] a tendency has been remarked to introduce the children of the hero as part of the gains which he is asked to divide with the thankful ghost. In a series of tales belonging to the general type The Grateful Dead + The Ransomed Woman this tendency has been accentuated so far that it seems best to group them together, because of their approach to the theme of The Two Friends. Since an actual combination of this motive with The Grateful Dead in its simple form is found in only three variants, all of them literary, it will perhaps be best to discuss the relationship of the main to the minor theme at this point.

The Two Friends is the chief motive of Amis and Amiloun, which in its various forms [128] is the mediaeval epic of ideal friendship. Its essential feature, as far as the present study is concerned, is the sacrifice of his two sons by Amis to cure the leprosy of Amiloun. They are actually slain, but are miraculously brought to life again by the power of G.o.d. This story, which exercised a powerful influence on the imagination of European peoples, easily became connected with the sacrifice of his wife by the hero of The Grateful Dead.

The three variants with the simple compound, or forming a group on that basis, are those entered in the bibliography as Lope de Vega, Calderon, and Oliver.

The plot of Oliver runs as follows [129]: Oliver, the son of the King of Castille, becomes the close friend of Arthur of Algarbe, the son of his stepmother. When he has grown up, he flees from home because of the love which the queen declares for him, leaving to Arthur a vial in which the water would grow dark, were he to come into danger. He is shipwrecked while on his way to Constantinople, but, together with another knight, is saved miraculously by a stag, which carries them to England. Talbot, the other knight, is ill, and asks Oliver to take him to his home at Canterbury, where he dies. Because of debts that his parents will not pay he cannot be buried in consecrated ground till Oliver himself attends to the matter. The hero then starts for a tourney where the hand of the king's daughter is the prize. On the way he loses his horse and money, but is supplied anew by a mysterious knight, on condition of receiving half of what he gets at the tourney. Here he is victor, and after a further successful war in Ireland marries the princess, who bears him two children. While hunting he is taken prisoner by the King of Ireland and placed in a dungeon. Arthur, who is acting as regent in Spain, notices that the vial has grown dark, and sets out to rescue his brother. In Ireland he is wounded by a dragon, but is healed by a white knight, who notices his resemblance to Oliver, and takes him to London to solace the princess. He only escapes her embraces by the pretence of a vow, and sets forth to deliver Oliver. On their way back he tells of his visit at London, and so excites Oliver's jealousy, who leaves him. At home, however, Oliver discovers his mistake, and determines to find his brother, who, after a punitive expedition into Ireland, falls gravely ill. Oliver learns in a dream that Arthur can only be cured by the blood of his children, whom he slays accordingly. On his return home, however, he finds them as well as ever. Later appears the mysterious knight to demand his share of wife and children, as well as of all his property. As Oliver raises his sword to divide his wife, he is told to desist, since his loyalty is proved. The knight then explains that he is the ghost of Talbot. Later Arthur marries Oliver's daughter, and eventually unites the kingdoms of England, Castille, and Algarbe.

Oliver has certain elements not to be accounted for by the combination of The Two Friends with The Grateful Dead. Such are the motive of the hero's journey, for example, which allies it with the tales of incestuous step-mothers; and the tourney in which the hero wins his bride. Yet the burial of the dead man (here a knight and a friend of the hero's) [130] corresponds to the normal form of the episode in that Oliver pays the creditors and the sum necessary for the man's interment. So, too, the demand made by the ghost for half of all that has been won runs true to the original form. The distinctive trait of Amis and Amiloun, at the same time, comes out more clearly than in the case of such folk-tales as Gaelic--the hero actually kills his little children to save the life of his old friend and foster-brother. One factor leads me to think that the romance and the two romantic plays are to be regarded as forms of the general type treated in this chapter, with additions from other stories. The ghost rescues the hero from imprisonment A rescue of the sort--normally after the hero has been cast into the sea or left behind by his rival--is characteristic of The Grateful Dead + The Ransomed Woman. In Oliver this rescue takes place, to be sure, after the marriage instead of before, which is the normal order, yet it is a factor of considerable importance. The romance takes a position somewhat apart; and even though this is partly due to the literary handling which it has undergone, it must remain doubtfully cla.s.sed with the immediate circle of variants belonging to the compound type.

The position of the play by Lope de Vega is involved with that of Oliver. Don Juan de Castro flees to England because of the unlawful love of his stepmother, the Princess of Galicia. His ship is wrecked on the English coast, and the captain, Tibaldo, is cast ash.o.r.e in a dying condition. To free the latter's mind from unrest, Don Juan pays his debts of two thousand ducats, though this is half of the hero's possessions. He hears that the princess Clarinda is promised to anyone of princely blood who wins an approaching tournament. While he is sorrowful that he cannot enter the contest, because of his poverty, the ghost of Tibaldo appears to him one night and promises the necessary equipment on condition of receiving one-half the gains. The next morning he finds everything ready and wins the princess. He is later taken prisoner by one of the contestants through a ruse, and is carried off to Ireland. By the ghost's advice, his stepbrother and double comes to London and takes his place, while Don Juan is freed by force of arms and restored to his wife. After some years, when the couple have two children, the stepbrother falls ill of a dreadful malady, which can only be cured, Don Juan learns in a dream, by the blood of his children. So he slays them and gives their blood to the sick man to drink. They are found alive by a miracle; but Don Juan is troubled, and does not find rest till the ghost appears and tells him that the only remedy for his affliction is to fulfil his promise of a division. The hero prepares to divide his wife, when the ghost stops him and explains that the demand was only a test.

As Schaeffer pointed out, [131] Lope's plot is clearly taken from Oliver, probably from the Spanish translation issued in 1499. Indeed, the drama follows the romance with far more fidelity than could have been expected of such an adaptation. The various elements of the motive appear without essential alteration.

The play El mejor amigo el muerto, listed for convenience as Calderon, has suffered, in contrast to Lope's play, from many changes. Prince Robert of Ireland and Don Juan de Castro are wrecked on the English coast. The former finds the sea-captain Lidoro in a dying condition, and refuses to give him aid. Don Juan, on the other hand, finds Lidoro's body, which a creditor keeps from interment, and pays for his burial out of his scanty savings from the wreck. He then goes to London, where there is trouble because Queen Clarinda will not marry Prince Robert. Don Juan is cast into prison on a false charge, his ident.i.ty being unknown to the queen, though he is recognized by Robert. He is saved by the aid of Lidoro's ghost, nevertheless, lays siege for Clarinda's hand, overcomes Robert, and so becomes king of England.

The correspondence of names and details makes it clear that the source of this play is Lope de Vega, though the plot has been modified in several features. In the process of adaptation all trace of The Two Friends has dropped out, a fact which would make the position of the variant difficult to ascertain, had the authors not left most of the characters their original names. The change in the position of the rescue of the hero from prison, indeed, gives a specious resemblance to the normal type The Grateful Dead + The Ransomed Woman, which is quite unjustified by the real state of the case.

All the other variants in which there is question of dividing a child, save one, [132] are folk-tales; and all of them save three [133]

clearly belong in the category now under discussion. If they did not group themselves in this way, I should be unwilling even to consider the possibility of any general influence from The Two Friends upon these tales, since the only trait borrowed by any of them is precisely the division. Only in Oliver and Lope de Vega is this sacrifice made for the healing of a friend; and we have seen in the case of Transylvanian, Gaelic, and Breton III. how naturally the division of the child grows out of the division of the wife. As the matter stands, however, the case for the influence of The Two Friends is sufficiently strong to warrant the grouping of these tales together. The general relationship of the theme may be deferred to a later chapter. [134]

Lithuanian II. [135] is a characteristic specimen of the cla.s.s of tales just referred to. A prince, while travelling, sees a corpse gnawed by swine in a street. He pays the man's creditors for his release and has the body buried. Later, on the same journey, he buys two maidens, one of whom is a king's daughter, and takes them home. After a year he goes on a second journey with the princess's picture for a figure-head on his ship, and a ring, which she has given him. The picture is recognized by the maiden's father, and the prince is sent back in the company of certain n.o.bles to fetch her. While they are returning to her home with the princess, one of the n.o.bles pushes the prince overboard. He lives on an island for two years, until a man comes to him and promises to bring him to court before the princess marries the traitor, on condition of receiving his first-born son. The agreement is made, and the prince wins his bride. After a son has been born to them, the man appears and demands the child. He is put off for fifteen years, and at the end of that time explains that he is the ghost of the rescued dead man.