Chapter II: Introduction: 1 (2)

Then on a hot day he saw the king of fairy and his retinue riding with hounds and blowing horns; and again he saw a great host of knights with drawn swords; and again he saw sixty ladies, gentle and gay, riding on palfreys and bearing hawks on their wrists. Their falcons had good sport, and Orfeo drew nigh to watch; and looking on the face of one of the ladies, he recognised Meroudys. They gazed at each other speechless, and tears ran from her eyes; but the other ladies bore her away. The king followed them to a fair country where there was neither hill nor dale, and into a castle, gaining entrance as a minstrel. Then he saw many men and women sleeping on every side, seemingly dead; among them he again beheld his wife. And he came before the king and queen of that realm, and harped so sweetly that the king promised him whatever he might ask. He asked for the fair dame Meroudys; and he took her by the hand, and they fared homewards.

In his own city he lodged awhile in poor quarters, and then went forth to play his harp; and meeting his steward, who knew the harp but not his master, told him he had found the harp ten winters ago, by the side of a man eaten by lions. This evil news caused the steward to swoon, whereupon King Orfeo revealed himself, and sent for dame Meroudys. She came in a triumphant procession; there was mirth and melody; and they were new-crowned king and queen. Harpers of Bretayne heard this tale and made the lay and called it after the king

"That Orfeo hight, as men well wote; Good is the lay, sweet is the
note!"

The ballad which represents the debris of this romance has only been recovered in a single text, from the memory of an old man in Unst, Shetland, and it is incomplete in verse-form, though the reciter remembered the gist of the story. This version of the ballad is further complicated by the fact that the old man sang it to a refrain which appears to be Unst pronunciation of Danish--a startling instance of phonetic tradition.

It is not, however, to be understood from this that it was impossible for Shakespeare to have heard this ballad; English versions _may_ have been current in his time. But even so, the ballad would add nothing to the knowledge he might gain elsewhere; it is simply a short form of the romance altered by tradition.[67]

There are half-a-dozen other English and Scottish ballads concerning fairies, none of much importance touching our present theme. They may be best studied in Child's collection, Nos. 35-41, where under _Tam Lin_ he has put together the main features of fairy-lore revealed in traditional ballads.[68] One or two such points may be noted here.

We have seen that Ogier saw the supernatural lady after plucking and eating an apple from a tree. Thomas of Erceldoune, Launfal, and Meroudys, are sleeping or lying beneath a tree when they see their various visitors. Tam Lin in the ballad was taken by the fairies while sleeping under an apple tree. Malory[69] tells us that Lancelot went to sleep about noon (traditionally the dangerous hour) beneath an apple tree, and was bewitched by Morgan le Fay. In modern Greek folk-lore, certain trees are said to be dangerous to lie under at noon, as the sleeper may be taken by the nereids, who correspond to our fairies.

At certain intervals--every seven years, the ballads say--the fiend of hell takes a tithe from the fairies, usually preferring one who is fair and of good flesh and blood. Hence in _Thomas of Erceldoune_,[70] the elf queen is anxious that he should leave her realm, because she thinks the foul fiend would choose him (ll. 219-224).

The notion of the fairies' demand of a tithe of produce, agricultural or domestic, is parallel to this sacrifice.[71]

A third point on which fairy-lore usually insists is that the steeds of the fairies shall be white; here _Thomas of Erceldoune_ is at variance with the other poems, the elf-queen's palfrey being a dapple-grey. It is curious to learn that this superstition still survives. "At that time there was a gentleman who had been taken by the fairies, and made an officer among them, and it was often people would see him and her riding on a white horse at dawn and in the evening."[72]

It will have been observed that the tale of Orfeo varies considerably from the classical tale of Orpheus; but this is not surprising; no one can imagine that it comes direct from the classics. A French original is presumed; indeed, there are references in early "lais" to a "Lai d'Orphey," indicating the existence of a poem which was probably the original of our _King Orfeo_. This original is presumed to have been a Breton lay, one of the many that were popular in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and the English version may have been taken from the supposed source through a French form.

Now, these Breton lays were chiefly on Celtic subjects, and placed their scenes in the Celtic realms of Great Britain, Little Britain, Ireland, or Scotland. The bards of Armorica doubtless picked up a good story wherever they could find it; and the classical story of Orpheus and Eurydice would appeal strongly to Celts, who have always been famous for harping. But why should these early Celtic singers have made such changes in the story, _unless they had a similar story of their own_ which was confused with it? The parallel story has been adduced by Professor Kittredge[73] from an Irish epic tale, The Wooing (or Courtship) of Etain. The portions of the story which concern us here follow.

Eochaid Airemm, king of Ireland, found him a wife in Etain daughter of Etar in the Bay of Cichmany, and with her Mider of Bri Leith (a fairy chief) was in love. On a summer's day, as the king sat on the heights of Tara beholding the plain of Breg, a strange young warrior appeared, gave his name as Mider, and challenged Eochaid to a game of chess for a wager. Many were the games they played, and at first Eochaid won, and bade Mider carry out certain tasks. But at last Eochaid was defeated, and Mider for his reward asked to be allowed to hold Etain in his arms and kiss her. Eochaid put him off for a month; at the end of which time he called together the armies of Ireland, and took Etain into the palace, and shut and locked the doors, and ringed the house with guards. Yet at the appointed hour Mider stood in their midst, fairer than ever; and he sang to Etain:--

"_O fair-haired woman, will you come with me into a marvellous land wherein is music, where heads are covered with primrose hair and bodies are white as snow? There is no "mine" or "thine" there; white are teeth, and black are eyebrows, and cheeks are the hue of the foxglove, and eyes the hue of blackbirds' eggs.... We see everything on every side, yet no man seeth us. Though pleasant the plains of Ireland, yet are they a wilderness for him who has known the great plain_."

But Etain would not go to him, before Eochaid was willing to resign her. And the king would not, yet allowed Mider to embrace her before him. Mider took his weapons into his left hand, and Etain with his right, and bore her away through the skylight. The guards outside beheld two swans flying, and they flew towards the elf-mound of Femun, which is called the Mound of the Fair-haired Women.

For nine years Eochaid waged war against Mider, digging into the elf-mounds, until he hit upon the fairy-mansion; whereupon Mider sent to the side of the palace sixty women, all exactly like Etain. And first the king carried away the wrong woman, but when he returned to sack Bri Leith, Etain made herself known to him, and he bore her back to the palace at Tara.

It is reasonable to suppose, then, that some Armorican bard, hearing the classical tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, remembered the Celtic legend of Eochaid and Etain, and grafted the one on the other. Hades became Bri Leith, or the vaguely-defined beautiful unknown country; but the classical names displaced the Celtic. The confusion, however, did not at once cease. In one of the MSS. of _Sir Orfeo_ it is said that Orfeo's father

"Was comen of king Pluto,
And his moder of king Juno"

--confusion worse confounded. Moreover, as we have already seen, even Chaucer called the fairy-king Pluto and the queen Proserpina.

Again, to hark back to the other romances, we have found the word _fay_ attached to the name of King Arthur's sister Morgan. Nothing is more remarkably certain than the close and constant association in mediaeval lore of the fairies and the fairy-world with the Arthurian cycle of romance;[74] King Arthur's sister was Morgan le Fay, whose son by Ogier was Merlin; and the romance of _Huon of Bordeaux_, which relates these facts, though strictly belonging to the Charlemagne cycle, contains the account of Oberon's bequest of his realm to King Arthur. Chaucer, whatever other doubts he may have had, was convinced on this point:--[75]

"In th' olde daies of the King Arthoure,
Of which that Bretons speken gret honoure,
Al was this land fulfild of fayerye;
The elfqueen with hir joly companye
Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede;
This was the olde opinion as I rede."

Now the Arthurian legends ultimately derive from Celtic tales, which must be supposed to have travelled from Wales into France by way of Brittany--Little Britain, or Armorica--in the eleventh and twelfth centuries; for there are Welsh versions independent of the Breton forms, though closely akin. Students of early Celtic literature have not as yet agreed about the historical relations between Welsh and Irish stories--whether the Welsh imposed their mythology and heroic legends on the Irish, or _vice versa_; but the general similarity between them is undeniable, and easily explicable by a common Celtic source.

Everything, then, points to the Celtic legends as the chief origin of the mediaeval fairy-lore; and the early Celtic literature, although its study, complicated by an unfamiliar language, has only recently been undertaken scientifically, has already revealed an extremely rich and complete store of romance that extends over a thousand years. From manuscripts which are attributed to the twelfth century (and even so contain matter rightly belonging to the ninth or tenth), we can trace the development of a creed concerning supernatural beings through the succeeding centuries, down to a time at which the written account is displaced by recorded oral tradition. A race of beings, who must originally have fallen from the Celtic Olympus, continue to appear, with characteristics that remain the same in essence, and under a designation that may be heard in Ireland today, through ten centuries of Irish tradition and literature.[76]

These people are called in Irish mythology the _Tuatha De Danann_, described from at latest 1100 A.D. as _aes sidhe_, "the folk of the [fairy-] hillock;" the name for fairies in Ireland now is "the Sidhe."[77] Originally, it may be, the _aes sidhe_ were not identified with the _Tuatha De Danann_; and before the twelfth century the Sidhe were not associated with the Celtic belief in "a beautiful country beyond the sea," a happy land called by various names--Tir-nan-Og (the land of youth), Tir Tairngire (the land of promise)--which has now become "fairy-land." In the earliest heroic legends the _Tuatha De Danann_ assist or protect mortal champions, and fall in love with mortal men and maids; but with the spread of Christianity (as might be expected) they lost many of their previous characteristics.[78]

To look back for a moment, we must note that so far we have touched no belief later than the fifteenth century, and already we have seen enough blending of various superstitions and legends to give our fairies a very mixed ancestry. Classical mythology, Celtic heroic sagas and northern Eddas in the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, Saxo the Danish historian in the twelfth, and a series of romances, running through Celtic-Breton-French-English languages from the twelfth to fifteenth centuries--all combine to alter or add to the popular conception of fairies. Celtic Mider is of human stature, beautiful, powerful, dwelling beneath the earth; he attempts to carry off a mortal bride. Teutonic Alberich is a dwarf, presumably not handsome, but well disposed to mortals. But when we come to _Huon of Bordeaux_ we find Oberon's characteristics are derived from varying sources. He himself describes[79] to Huon, in a fantastic romance-style, which attempts to associate him with as many classic heroes as possible, his parentage and birth:--

"I shall show thee true, it is Julius Caesar engendered me on a lady of the Privy Isle ... the which is now named Chifalonny [Cephalonia] ... after a seven year Caesar passed by the sea as he went into Thessaly whereas he fought with Pompey; in his way he passed by Chifalonny, where my mother fetched him, and he fell in love with her because she showed him that he should discomfit Pompey, as he did." We are almost supplied with the date of Oberon's birth.

He proceeds to narrate how all the fairies but one were invited to his birth, and that one, in anger, said that when he was three years old he should cease to grow; however, she repented immediately and added that he should be "the fairest creature that nature ever formed." Another fairy endowed him with the power of seeing into the minds of all men; and a third enabled him to go whither he would at a wish. "Moreover, if I will have a castle or a palace at my own device, incontinent it shall be made, and as soon gone again if I list; and what meat or wine that I will wish for, I shall have it incontinent."

Elsewhere[80] in the romance his handsome equipment and dress are described; his gown, his bow, and above all his horn, "made by four ladies of the fairy," who endowed it with four gifts; it cured all diseases by its blast, it banished hunger and thirst, it brought joy to the heavy-hearted, and forced any one who heard to come at the wish of its owner.

Horns, in English folk-lore, appear to belong rather to elves than to fairies[81]--the elves that haunt hills, and are known all over Europe; dwarfs, trolls, kobolds, pixies, and so forth. Teutonic witches are called horn-blowers. Again, the fairy-train or fairy-hunt is supposed to carry horns; we have seen it already in _Sir Orfeo_,[82] and in _Thomas of Erceldoune_,[83] the fairy-queen bears a horn about her neck.

But this Oberon of _Huon of Bordeaux_ is mortal, and is not pictured as being abnormal in stature, any more than Mider. Shakespeare's Oberon and Mider are invisible (or can make themselves so), both have supernatural powers, and both are immortal.

The question of the _size_ conventionally attributed to the fairies is of importance, because it shows that a confusion existed between the fays of romance with the elves of folk-superstition. Elves and their numerous counterparts in all European countries and elsewhere--we have just given a list of names which can easily be extended--are above all things _small_; they also are earth-dwellers, living in hills or underground chambers, and originally, perhaps, were supposed to be mischievous by nature. But even in Shakespeare's day, it would be impossible to say that fairies were benevolent and elves malevolent; the two kinds and their respective characteristics were already confused.

Robin Goodfellow, the Puck, or Hobgoblin, is however essentially mischievous. In a book contemporary with our play we find:--

"Think me to be one of those _Familiares Lares_ that were rather pleasantly disposed than endued with any hurtful influence, as Hob Thrust, Robin Goodfellow, and suchlike spirits, as they term them, of the buttery, famoused in every old wives' chronicle for their mad merry pranks."[84]

But four years later, as we have seen,[85] Nashe confounds elves with fairies in deriving all alike from fauns and dryads. Robin is "mad-merry," "jocund and facetious," "a cozening idle friar or some such rogue" [in origin], and so forth--simply described by Shakespeare as a "shrewd and knavish sprite." The forms of mischief in which he delights are described in _A Midsummer-Night's Dream_, II. i. 33-57, and all these "gests" may be found in the contemporary Robin Goodfellow literature;[86] though we have observed that some of the functions attributed to Queen Mab in Mercutio's famous speech[87] belong rightly to Robin.[88]

Thus we see--to take into consideration but a few points of the myth--that the fairy-superstition and the elf-superstition were melted together in the popular pre-Shakespearean mind, and that Shakespeare himself, making a new division of the characteristics of the two, yet re-welded the whole into one realm by putting the Puck in subjection under the fairy king.

The main characteristics of Shakespeare's fairies, then, may be summarised shortly:--[89]

They are a community under a king and queen, who hold a court; they are very small, light, swift, elemental; they share in the life of nature; they are fond of dancing and singing; they are invisible and immortal; they prefer night, and midnight is their favourite hour; they fall in love with mortals, steal babies and leave changelings, and usurp the function of Hymen in blessing the marriage-bed. Oberon, "king of shadows," can apparently see things hidden from Puck.[90]

Titania, "a spirit of no common rate," is yet subject to passion and jealousy, and had a mortal friend, "a votaress of my order."[91]

The fairy of folk-lore in Shakespeare's day is nearly everything that the fairies of _A Midsummer-Night's Dream_ are; we may possibly except their exiguity, their relations in love with mortals, and their hymeneal functions. His conception of their size as infinitesimal at least differs from that of the popular stories, where (as far as can be ascertained) they are shown to be about the size of mortal children.

We may conclude these remarks with the modern Irish-Catholic theory of the origin of the fairies:--

"When Lucifer saw himself in the glass, he thought himself equal with
God. Then the Lord threw him out of Heaven, and all the angels that
belonged to him. While He was 'chucking them out,' an archangel asked
Him to spare some of them, and those that were falling are in the air
still, and have power to wreck ships, and to work evil in the
world."[92]

* * * *

OBERON'S VISION.

_A Midsummer-Night's Dream_, like too many other plays of Shakespeare, has been unable to escape the inquisition of "deuteroscopists"--those who are always on the look-out for historical and other allusions. The dainty passage (II. i. 148-174), in which Oberon gives Puck directions how and where to find the magic herb that works the transformations of love in the rest of the play, appears to contain a reference to Elizabeth as "a fair vestal throned by the west" and "the imperial votaress." So much may be reasonably granted; but Warburton in his edition proceeded to identify "the mermaid on a dolphin's back" with Mary Queen of Scots, the dolphin of course being the Dauphin, and so forth. This interpretation of the alleged secret allegory was displaced in 1843 by one rather more plausible--though still needlessly fantastic.

_Oberon's Vision_, by the Rev. N.J. Halpin (Shakespeare Society, 1843) attempts to prove that in composing this passage Shakespeare was referring to the Earl of Leicester's attempt to win Elizabeth's hand, when she visited him at Kenilworth in 1575; the mermaid, uttering dulcet and harmonious breath, so that the rude sea grows civil, and the stars that shot from their spheres, are explained, by parallel passages from contemporary accounts, as parts of the pageant or "Princely Pleasures" which formed the Queen's entertainment. The Earl was simultaneously intriguing with Lettice, Countess of Essex, who ultimately became his wife; and it is she who, according to the Rev. Halpin, is intended by the "little western flower"; to him the passage means:--

"Cupid, on behalf of the Earl of Leicester, loosed an arrow at Queen
Elizabeth; but the Virgin Queen's maidenhood was so unassailable that
the bolt missed her, hitting the Countess of Essex, who succumbed."

In other words, Shakespeare mentions the Queen only in order to point out her rival's success!

It is as unnecessary to discuss the degrees of probability in Halpin's identifications as it was for him to elaborate them. Certainly it is likely that Shakespeare intended a compliment to his queen; it is possible that the "mermaid on a dolphin's back" was a reminiscence of a pageant which he might have visited Kenilworth at the age of eleven to see; and it may be true that he meant to hint at Leicester.

On the other hand, I think that another explanation is more obvious and more rational. Shakespeare had to introduce into his play the magic herb which was to alter the loves of those into whose eyes it was squeezed. We may reasonably guess that he had read somewhere one of the many popular legends that explain why the violet is purple, why the rose is red, _etc._; there are some in Ovid's _Metamorphoses_[93] which Shakespeare read in Golding's translation. He saw an opportunity of paying a graceful compliment to Elizabeth by saying that the magic flower, once white, had been empurpled by a shaft of Cupid's drawn at the fair vestal and imperial votaress, who yet passed on untouched;

"And maidens call it love-in-idleness"

--a popular name for the common pansy.

NOTES ON THE INTRODUCTION

[1] For _The Knightes Tale_, see Prof. Skeat's edition (modern spelling) in the "King's Classics," and his excellent introduction.

[2] was named

[3] realm

[4] called

[5] were not

[6] besieged

[7] See Mr. R.B. McKerrow's note on Nashe's reference to the name in _Have with You to Saffron-Walden_ (_Works,_ iii. 111).

[8] See Statius, _Thebais_, I, 13-14, etc. (Chaucer refers to "Stace of Thebes," _Knightes Tale_, 1436.) Athamas, having incurred the wrath of Hera, was seized with madness, and slew his son Learchus. His wife Ino threw herself, with his other son Melicertes, into the sea, and both were changed into sea-deities, Ino becoming Leucothea, and Melicertes Palaemon, whom the Greeks held to be friendly to the shipwrecked. The Romans identified him with Portunus, the protector of harbours.

[9] See Skeat's _The Knight's Tale_, xi-xv.

[10] little.

[11] In this passage, Statius describes the meeting between Theseus, returning in triumph with Hippolyta, and the widows of those slain at the siege of Thebes, who complain that the tyrant Creon will not permit their husbands' bodies to be either burned or buried. This episode, as we shall see, is the opening of the _Knightes Tale,_ and reappears in a modified form in _The Two Noble Kinsmen._

[12] J. M. Rigg's introduction to his translation of the _Decameron_ (1903)

[13] This opening, derived from Statius (see note, p. 13), serves merely to introduce the main story, much in the same way as the Theseus story in _A Midsummer-Night's Dream_ is simply the "enveloping action" of the play.

[14] W.W. Greg's edition, i 19-20, ii. 168. Henslowe's dates for the performances are 17 September, 16 and 27 October, and November, 1594. Against the first entry are the much-discussed letters "ne," which appear to mark a new play. It will be seen that according to the theory that _A Midsummer-Night's Dream_ belongs to the winter of 1594-5, this Palamon and Arcite play was performed immediately before.

[15] Professor Gollancz considers that Shakespeare had no hand in the play.

[16] Cf. I. i. 167 and IV. i. 129-30.

[17] It is perhaps fantastic to interpret too literally Arcite's song to May--"I hope that I som grene gete may"--but, however little of their primitive significance now remains, celebration of the rites of May is by no means extinct. See E.K. Chambers, _The Mediaeval Stage_, I. 117: "their object is to secure the beneficent influence of the fertilization spirit by bringing the persons or places to be benefited into direct contact with the physical embodiment of that spirit."

Shakespeare's apparent confusion of a May-day with a Mid-summer-night may seem pardonable to the folk-lorist in the light of the fact that various folk-festivals appear to take place indiscriminately on May-day or Midsummer-day. See Chambers, _op. cit._ i. 114, 118, 126.

[18] Cf. III. ii. 331 and 401, _etc_.

[19] Cf. IV. i. 100-183.

[20] In V. i. 51.

[21] Reprinted in this book, p. 135.

[22] He might have added _Lucius the Ass_, a similar tale by Lucian of Samosata.

[23] Reprinted in this book, p. 139.

[24] Ovid, _Met._ iv. 55, sqq.

[25] See p. 73.

[26] Addl. MS. 15227, f. 56b.

[27] _Faerie Queen,_ II. i. 6, II. x. 75.

[28] See A.W. Ward's _English Dramatic Literature_, i. 400, ii. 85.

[29] _The Marchantes Tale_, 983 (Skeat, E. 2227).

[30] A.H. Bullen's edition of Campion (1903), p. 20.

[31] _Metamorphoses_, iii. 173. Ovid, in the same work, uses "Titania" also as an epithet of Latona (vi. 346), Pyrrha (i. 395), and Circe (xiv. 382, 438). The fact that Golding gives "Phebe" as the translation of "Titania" in iii. 173, is a strong piece of evidence that Shakespeare sometimes at least read his Ovid in the Latin.

[32] Ed. Brinsley Nicholson, p. 32. Book III, chap. ii. (See p. 135.)

[33] _Romeo and Juliet_, I. iv, 53, sqq.

[34] In II. i. 40, "sweet puck" is no more a proper name than "Hobgoblin"; so also in l. 148 of the same scene. In neither case should the name be printed with a capital P.

[35] II. i. 34.

[36] V. i. 418, 421.

[37] Wright, _English Dialect Dictionary_, s.v. Puck, gives Scotland, Ireland, Derby, Worcester, Shropshire, Gloucester, Sussex and Hampshire as localities where the name is recorded.

[38] Text H in Child's _Ballads_, I. 352.

[39] Campbell's _Popular Tales of the West Highlands_ (1890), vol. ii, tales xxv, xxvi, etc.

[40] _Ballads_, I. 314, and note.

[41] _M.N.D._, II. i. 40. (See note on p. 37.)

[42] _The Wyf of Bathe's Tale_, at the beginning; and elsewhere.

[43] _The Faerie Queene,_ chiefly in Book II, where in Canto X, stanzas 70-76, he gives a fictitious list of the generations of fairies; the first "Elfe" was the image made by Prometheus, to animate which he stole fire from heaven; the list ends with Oberon, and Tanaquil the Faerie Queen.

[44] Reprinted in this book, pp. 81-121.

[45] Mr. Chambers, in his edition of the play, Appendix A, Sec. l8, gives (i) _Tarlton's News out of Purgatory_ (1590) (see p. 63), (ii) Churchyard's _Handfull of Gladsome Verses_ (1592) (see p. 141), (iii) Nashe's _Terrors of the Night_ (1594).

[46] The word _folk-lore_ has only been in existence sixty years, and the science is very little older; it was vaguely referred to as "popular antiquities" before that time.

[47] Alfred Nutt, _The Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare_ (1900), p. 24. This little book is instructive and valuable.

[48] Nashe's Works, ed. R.B. McKerrow, i. 347.

[49] Gower, however, does so, as early as the fourteenth century; _Confessio Amantis_, ii. 371.

[50] The opening of the beautiful _Helgi and Sigrun Lay_ as translated by Vigfusson and York Powell in _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_ (1883), i. 131; see also the editors' Introduction, i. lxi, lxiv.

[51] _Danish History_, iii. 70, 77; vi. 181; cf. O. Elton's translation (1894), pp. 84, 93, 223, and York Powell's introduction thereto, lxiv.

[52] "It is worth noting that the Romance of Olger the Dane contains several late echoes of the old Helgi myth. _a._ The visit of the fairies by night to the new-born child ... _e._ His return to earth after death or disappearance ... Mark that Holgi is the true old form ... The old hero Holgi and the Carling peer Otgeir (Eadgar) are distinct persons confused by later tradition."--_Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, i. cxxx.

"The _Fates_ ... bestow endowments on the new-born child, as in the beautiful Helge Lay ... a point of the story which survives in the Ogier of the Chansons de Geste, wherein Eadgar (Otkerus or Otgerus) gets what belonged to Holger (Holge), the Helga til of Beowulf's Lay."--Saxo, _Danish History_, lxiv.

[53] Cf. Child's _Ballads_, i. 319.

[54] In _Huon of Bordeaux_ Merlin comes with King Arthur to Oberon's death-bed; Arthur introduces him as his nephew, the son of Ogier the Dane and "my sister Morgan."

[55] The mere mention of these subterranean explorations opens up an immense field of discussion and speculation that can here be only relegated to a note; we can treat at greater length none but those legends which bear directly on our subject. Odysseus visited Hades, Aeneas descended to Orcus or Tartarus, and they have their counterparts in every land and every mythology. Human aetiological tendencies supply explanations of any cavern or natural chasm--even a volcano must be the mouth of the entrance to hell or purgatory--from Taenarus, where Pluto carried off Proserpine, and the Sibyl's cavern, whence Aeneas sought the lower regions, to the famous Lough Dearg in Donegal, the entrance to "St. Patrick's Purgatory," and the Peak cavern in Derbyshire. The student may begin his researches with T. Wright's _St. Patrick's Purgatory_ (1844). A very common tale in Celtic literature is that of the visit of some hero to the underworld and his seizure of some gift of civilisation--just as Prometheus stole fire from heaven.

[56] _Ballads_, loc. cit.

[57] A version of Fytte I will be found in this book, pp. 122-132.

[58] See Child's _Ballads_, No. 37, Thomas Rymer, i. 317-329; also the romance, _Thomas of Erceldoune_ (E.E.T.S., 1875), where Prof. J.A.H. Murray prints all texts parallel, and adds a valuable introduction.

[59] A similar episode survives in a Breton folk-tale, cited by Professor Kittredge in Child's _Ballads_, iii. 504. In _Huon of Bordeaux_ (E.E.T.S. edition, p. 265), Charlemagne mistakes Oberon for God.

[60] See Gummere, _The Popular Ballad_ (1907), pp. 66-7.

[61] Cottonian, Caligula A. II. A later version is at the Bodleian, MS. Rawlinson C. 86, and a Scottish version in Cambridge University Library, MS. Kk. 5. 30.

[62] It was licensed to John Kynge the printer between 19 July 1557 and 9 July 1558. See Arber, Stationers' Registers, i. 79. Two fragments are in the Bodleian; see Hales and Furnivall, _Bishop Percy's Folio Manuscript_ (1867), i. 521-535.

[63] In this year it is mentioned, as having been amongst Captain Cox's books, in Laneham's famous _Letter_. See _Shakespeare Library_ reprint, p. xxx.

[64] Brit. Mus. MS. Addl. 27,879; see Hales and Furnivall, _Bishop Percy's Folio Manuscript_, i. 142.

[65] Harl. 3810 (British Museum), printed by Ritson in _Ancient English Metrical Romances_ (1802) ii. 248; the Auchinleck MS. (W. 4. 1, in the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh), printed by D. Laing in _Ancient Popular Poetry of Scotland_, iii; and Ashmolean 61 (Bodleian Library, Oxford), printed by Halliwell in his _Fairy Mythology_, p. 36. The three are collated by O. Zielke, _Sir Orfeo_ (Breslau 1880), a fully annotated edition. The last is used here.

[66] A grafted fruit tree; here probably an apple.

[67] It may be seen in Child's _Ballads_, i. 215, with a full analysis of the romance, and in the present editor's _Popular Ballads of the Olden Time_, Second Series, p. 208.

[68] _Ballads_, i. 338-340; see also various "Additions and Corrections" in the later volumes, and s.v. _Elf_, _Elves_, etc. in the _Index of Matters and Literature_.

[69] _Morte Darthur_ (ed. Sommer), vi. l. 3.

[70] See below, p. 131.

[71] See J.M. Synge, _The Aran Islands_ (1907), p. 48, and A. Nutt, _Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare_, p. 22.

[72] See Synge, _op. cit._, p. 47.

[73] See his admirable article on _Sir Orfeo_ in the _American Journal of Philology_, vii. 176-202. _The Courtship of Etain_ may be seen in English, translated from the two versions in Egerton MS. 1782. and the "Leabhar na h-Uidhri"--an eleventh century Irish MS.--in _Heroic Romances of Ireland_, by A. H, Leahy, i. 7-32.

[74] A. Nutt, _Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare_, p. 12.

[75] _Wyf of Bathe's Tale_, 1-6.

[76] See A. Nutt, _op. cit._, pp. 16-17; and various authorities given by G.L. Kittredge, _op. cit._, p. 196 notes.

[77] Pronounced _shee_.

[78] Mr. Alfred Nutt (_op. cit._, pp. 19-23) is at pains to show the close association of the _Tuatha De Danann_ with ritual of an agricultural-sacrificial kind, in the aspect they have assumed--"fairies"--to the modern Irish peasant. The Sidhe have fallen from the high estate of the romantic and courtly wooers and warriors, as they must once have fallen from the Celtic pantheon.

[79] Chap, xxv. (E.E.T.S. edition, 72). Oberon recites his history again in chap. lxxxiv. (p. 264).

[80] Chap. xxii. (E.E.T.S. edition, p. 65, sqq.).

[81] Cf. Child's _Ballads_, Nos. 2 (_The Elfin Knight_), 4 (_Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight_), 41 (_Hina Etin_), and perhaps 35 (_Allison Gross_), with his note on the last, l. 314, referring to No. 36 (_The Laily Worm and the Machrel of the Sea_).

[82] See above, p. 51.

[83] See p. 124, l. 39.

[84] _Tarlton's News out of Purgatory, published by Robin Goodfellow_ (1590), Shakespeare Society reprint, p. 55.

[85] See above, p. 41.

[86] See the extracts from Scot's _Discovery of Witchcraft_ and the _Robin Goodfellow_ tract, pp. 133-140 and 81-121.

[87] Romeo and Juliet, I. iv. 33-94. See above, p. 37.

[88] Had I been able to find a book, _Veridica relatio de daemonio Puck_, referred to in the article _Diable_ in the _Dictionnaire des Sciences Occultes_ (in Migne, tome 48, vol. i., p. 475), it might be that it would prove of great interest. In any case this allusion (pointed out to me by Mr. R.B. McKerrow) is an early instance of Puck used as a proper name.

[89] Abbreviated from E.K. Chambers' full analysis with references, _Warwick Shakespeare_ edition of _M.N.D._ pp. 142-4.

[90] See II. i. 155.

[91] How far Shakespeare associated his fairy queen Titania with her nominal parent Diana, is a question that would make matter for an elaborate study in mythology and mysticism, and might yet lead to no result. Diana is Luna in the heavens; Lucina (the goddess of child-birth) and the Huntress on earth; and Hecate in the underworld, goddess of enchantments and nocturnal incantations, often also identified with Proserpina. Titania is a votaress of the moon; we have seen that fairies are intimately concerned with mortal babies, and that there is a fairy-hunt (see the quotation from James I's _Demonology_, p. 37 above); and we have also noted the confusion of Proserpina with the fairy-queen.--The _Tuatha De Danann_ are said to be "the folk of _Danu_"--who is Danu? Hecate was called Trivia, on account of the above tripartition of Diana; her statues were set up where three roads met, and the fairy-queen in _Thomas the Rhymer_ points out to him the three roads that lead to heaven, hell, and elf-land. Speculation is easily led astray.

[92] J.M. Synge, _Aran Islands_, p. 10.

[93] The metamorphosis of Hyacinthus, for instance, Bk. X, 162, sqq.; although there are others in the same book. See also the alteration in the mulberry caused by Pyramus' blood (pp. 77-80).

* * * * *

ILLUSTRATIVE TEXTS

TEXTS

THE LEGEND OF PYRAMUS AND THISBE 73

ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW 81

THOMAS OF ERCELDOUNE 122

SCOT'S DISCOVERY OF WITCHCRAFT 133

'STRANGE FARLIES' 141

THE MAD MERRY PRANKS OF ROBIN 144

QUEEN MAB 149

THE FAIRIES' FAREWELL 151

THE FAIRY QUEEN 155

NYMPHIDIA 158

* * * * *

THE LEGEND OF PYRAMUS AND THISBE

From Arthur Golding's translation of Ovid's _Metamorphoses_ (1575), Book IV, ff. 52-3.

Within the town (of whose huge walls so monstrous high and thick,
The fame is given Semiramis for making them of brick)
Dwelt hard together two young folk, in houses joined so near,
That under all one roof well nigh both twain conveyed were.
The name of him was Pyramus, and Thisbe call'd was she,
So fair a man in all the East was none alive as he.
Nor ne'er a woman, maid, nor wife in beauty like to her.
This neighbourhood bred acquaintance first, this neighbourhood first did
stir
The secret sparks: this neighbourhood first an entrance in did show
For love, to come to that to which it afterward did grow.
And if that right had taken place they had been man and wife,
But still their parents went about to let[1] which (for their life)
They could not let. For both their hearts with equal flame did burn.
No man was privy to their thoughts. And for to serve their turn,
Instead of talk they used signs: the closelier they suppressed
The fire of love, the fiercer still it raged in their breast.
The wall that parted house from house had riven therein a cranny,
Which shrunk at making of the wall: this fault not marked of any
Of many hundred years before (what doth not love espy?)
These lovers first of all found out, and made a way whereby
To talk together secretly, and through the same did go
Their loving whisp'rings very light and safely to and fro.
Now as at one side Pyramus, and Thisbe on the tother
Stood often drawing one of them the pleasant breath from other:
O spiteful wall (said they) why dost thou part us lovers thus?
What matter were it if that thou permitted both of us
In arms each other to embrace? or if thou think that this
Were over-much, yet mightest thou at least make room to kiss.
And yet thou shalt not find us churls: we think ourselves in debt
For the same piece of courtesy, in vouching safe[2] to let
Our sayings to our friendly ears thus freely come and go.
Thus having where they stood in vain complained of their woe,
When night drew near they bade adieu, and each gave kisses sweet
Unto the parget[3] on their side the which did never meet.
Next morning with her cheerful light had driven the stars aside,
And Phoebus with his burning beams the dewy grass had dried,
These lovers at their wonted place by fore-appointment met,
Where after much complaint and moan they covenanted to get
Away from such as watched them, and in the evening late
To steal out of their fathers' house and eke the city gate.
And to th' intent that in the fields they strayed not up and down,
They did agree at Ninus' tomb to meet without the town,
And tarry underneath a tree that by the same did grow;
Which was a fair high mulberry with fruit as white as snow,
Hard by a cool and trickling spring. This bargain pleased them both,
And so daylight (which to their thought away but slowly go'th)
Did in the Ocean fall to rest, and night from thence doth rise.
As soon as darkness once was come, straight Thisbe did devise
A shift to wind her out of doors, that none that were within
Perceived her; and muffling her with clothes about her chin,
That no man might discern her face, to Ninus' tomb she came
Unto the tree, and set her down there underneath the same.
Love made her bold. But see the chance, there comes besmeared with blood
About the chaps, a lioness all foaming from the wood,
From slaughter lately made of kine to staunch her bloody thirst
With water of the foresaid spring. Whom Thisbe, spying first
Afar by moonlight, thereupon with fearful steps gan fly
And in a dark and irksome cave did hide herself thereby.
And as she fled away for haste she let her mantle fall,
The which for fear she left behind not looking back at all.
Now when the cruel lioness her thirst had staunched well,
In going to the wood she found the slender weed that fell
From Thisbe, which with bloody teeth in pieces she did tear.
The night was somewhat further spent ere Pyramus came there.
Who seeing in this subtle sand the print of lion's paw,
Waxed pale for fear. But when that he the bloody mantle saw
All rent and torn; one night (he said) shall lovers two confound,
Of which long life deserved she of all that live on ground.
My soul deserves of this mischance the peril for to bear.
I, wretch, have been the death of thee, which to this place of fear
Did cause thee in the night to come, and came not here before.
My wicked limbs and wretched guts with cruel teeth therefore
Devour ye, O ye lions all that in this rock do dwell.
But cowards use to wish for death. The slender weed that fell
From Thisbe up he takes, and straight doth bear it to the tree,
Which was appointed erst the place of meeting for to be.
And when he had bewept and kissed the garment which he knew,
Receive thou my blood too (quoth he), and therewithal he drew
His sword, the which among his guts he thrust, and by and by
Did draw it from the bleeding wound, beginning for to die,
And cast himself upon his back. The blood did spin on high
As when a conduit pipe is cracked, the water bursting out
Doth shoot itself a great way off, and pierce the air about.
The leaves that were upon the tree besprinkled with his blood
Were dyed black. The root also, bestained as it stood
A deep dark purple colour, straight upon the berries cast,
Anon scarce ridded of her fear with which she was aghast,
For doubt of disappointing him comes Thisbe forth in haste,
And for her lover looks about, rejoicing for to tell
How hardly she had 'scaped that night the danger that befell.
And as she knew right well the place and fashion of the tree
(As which she saw so late before) even so when she did see
The colour of the berries turned, she was uncertain whether
It were the tree at which they both agreed to meet together.
While in this doubtful stound[4] she stood, she cast her eye aside,
And there beweltered in his blood her lover she espied
Lie sprawling with his dying limbs; at which she started back,
And looked pale as any box; a shuddering through her strack,
Even like the sea which suddenly with whissing noise doth move,
When with a little blast of wind it is but touched above.
But when approaching nearer him she knew it was her love,
She beat her breast, she shrieked out, she tare her golden hairs,
And taking him between her arms did wash his wounds with tears;
She meint[5] her weeping with his blood, and kissing all his face
(Which now became as cold as ice) she cried in woeful case:
Alas! what chance, my Pyramus hath parted thee and me?
Make answer, O my Pyramus: it is thy Thisbe, even she
Whom thou dost love most heartily that speaketh unto thee:
Give ear and raise thy heavy head. He, hearing Thisbe's name,
Lift up his dying eyes, and, having seen her, closed the same.
But when she knew her mantle there, and saw his scabbard lie
Without the sword: Unhappy man, thy love had made thee die;
Thy love (she said) hath made thee slay thyself. This hand of mine
Is strong enough to do the like. My love no less than thine
Shall give me force to work my wound. I will pursue thee dead,
And, wretched woman as I am, it shall of me be said,
That like as of thy death I was the only cause and blame,
So am I thy companion eke and partner in the same.
For death which only could, alas! asunder part us twain,
Shall never so dissever us but we will meet again.
And you the parents of us both, most wretched folk alive,
Let this request that I shall make in both our names belyve[6]
Entreat you to permit that we, whom chaste and steadfast love,
And whom even death hath joined in one, may, as it doth behove,
In one grave be together laid. And thou unhappy tree,
Which shroudest now the corse of one, and shalt anon through me
Shroud two, of this same slaughter hold the sicker[7] signs for ay
Black be the colour of thy fruit and mourning-like alway,
Such as the murder of us twain may evermore bewray.
This said, she took the sword, yet warm with slaughter of her love,
And setting it beneath her breast did to the heart it shove.
Her prayer with the gods and with their parents took effect,
For when the fruit is throughly ripe, the berry is bespect[8]
With colour tending to a black. And that which after fire
Remained, rested in one tomb as Thisbe did desire.

* * * * *

ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW; HIS MAD PRANKS AND MERRY JESTS

Not omitting that ancient form of beginning tales, _Once upon a time_ it was my chance to travel into that noble county of Kent. The weather being wet, and my two-legged horse being almost tired (for indeed my own legs were all the supporters that my body had), I went dropping into an alehouse; there found I, first a kind welcome, next good liquor, then kind strangers (which made good company), then an honest host, whose love to good liquor was written in red characters both in his nose, cheeks and forehead: an hostess I found there too, a woman of very good carriage; and though she had not so much colour (for what she had done) as her rich husband had, yet all beholders might perceive by the roundness of her belly, that she was able to draw a pot dry at a draught, and ne'er unlace for the matter.

Well, to the fire I went, where I dried my outside and wet my inside. The ale being good, and I in good company, I lapt in so much of this nappy liquor, that it begot in me a boldness to talk, and desire of them to know what was the reason that the people of that country were called Long-tails[1]. The host said, all the reason that ever he could hear was, because the people of that country formerly did use to go in side-skirted coats. "There is," said an old man that sat by, "another reason that I have heard: that is this. In the time of the Saxons' conquest of England there were divers of our countrymen slain by treachery, which made those that survived more careful in dealing with their enemies, as you shall hear.

"After many overthrows that our countrymen had received by the Saxons, they dispersed themselves into divers companies into the woods, and so did much damage by their sudden assaults to the Saxons, that Hengist, their king, hearing the damage that they did (and not knowing how to subdue them by force), used this policy. He sent to a company of them, and gave them his word for their liberty and safe return, if they would come unarmed and speak with him. This they seemed to grant unto, but for their more security (knowing how little he esteemed oaths or promises) they went every one of them armed with a short sword, hanging just behind under their garments, so that the Saxons thought not of any weapons they had: but it proved otherwise; for when Hengist his men (that were placed to cut them off) fell all upon them, they found such unlooked a resistance, that most of the Saxons were slain, and they that escaped, wondering how they could do that hurt, having no weapons (as they saw), reported that they struck down men like lions with their tails; and so they ever after were called Kentish Long-tails."

I told him this was strange, if true, and that their country's honour bound them more to believe in this than it did me.

"Truly, sir," said my hostess, "I think we are called Long-tails, by reason our tales are long, that we used to pass the time withal, and make ourselves merry." "Now, good hostess," said I, "let me entreat from you one of those tales." "You shall," said she, "and that shall not be a common one neither, for it is a long tale, a merry tale, and a sweet tale; and thus it begins."

THE HOSTESS'S TALE OF THE BIRTH OF ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW

Once upon a time, a great while ago, when men did eat more and drink less--then men were more honest, that knew no knavery, than some now are that confess the knowledge and deny the practice--about that time (whensoe'er it was) there was wont to walk many harmless spirits called fairies, dancing in brave order in fairy rings on green hills with sweet music (sometime invisible) in divers shapes: many mad pranks would they play, as pinching of sluts black and blue, and misplacing things in ill-ordered houses; but lovingly would they use wenches that cleanly were, giving them silver and other pretty toys, which they would leave for them, sometimes in their shoes, other times in their pockets, sometimes in bright basins and other clean vessels.

Amongst these fairies was there a he-fairy; whether he was their king or no I know not, but surely he had great government and command in that country, as you shall hear. This same he-fairy did love a proper young wench, for every night would he with other fairies come to the house, and there dance in her chamber; and oftentimes she was forced to dance with him, and at his departure would he leave her silver and jewels, to express his love unto her. At last this maid was with child, and being asked who was the father of it, she answered a man that nightly came to visit her, but early in the morning he would go his way, whither she knew not, he went so suddenly.

Many old women, that then had more wit than those that are now living and have less, said that a fairy had gotten her with child; and they bid her be of good comfort, for the child must needs be fortunate that had so noble a father as a fairy was, and should work many strange wonders. To be short, her time grew on, and she was delivered of a man child, who (it should seem) so rejoiced his father's heart, that every night his mother was supplied with necessary things that are befitting a woman in child-birth, so that in no mean manner neither; for there had she rich embroidered cushions, stools, carpets, coverlets, delicate linen: then for meat she had capons, chickens, mutton, lamb, pheasant, snite[2], woodcock, partridge, quail. The gossips liked this fare so well that she never wanted company; wine had she of all sorts, muskadine, sack, malmsey, claret, white and bastard; this pleased her neighbours well, so that few that came to see her, but they had home with them a medicine for the fleas. Sweetmeats too had they in such abundance that some of their teeth are rotten to this day; and for music she wanted not, or any other thing she desired.

All praised this honest fairy for his care, and the child for his beauty, and the mother for a happy woman. In brief, christened he was, at the which all this good cheer was doubled, which made most of the women so wise, that they forgot to make themselves unready, and so lay in their clothes; and none of them next day could remember the child's name but the clerk, and he may thank his book for it, or else it had been utterly lost. So much for the birth of little Robin.

OF ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW'S BEHAVIOUR WHEN HE WAS YOUNG

When Robin was grown to six years of age, he was so knavish that all the neighbours did complain of him; for no sooner was his mother's back turned, but he was in one knavish action or other, so that his mother was constrained (to avoid the complaints) to take him with her to market, or wheresoever she went or rode. But this helped little or nothing, for if he rode before her, then would he make mouths and ill-favoured faces at those he met; if he rode behind her, then would he clap his hand on his tail; so that his mother was weary of the many complaints that came against him, yet knew she not how to beat him justly for it, because she never saw him do that which was worthy blows. The complaints were daily so renewed that his mother promised him a whipping. Robin did not like that cheer, and therefore, to avoid it, he ran away, and left his mother a heavy woman for him.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW DWELT WITH A TAILOR

After that Robin Good-fellow had gone a great way from his mother's house, he began to be hungry, and going to a tailor's house, he asked something for God's sake. The tailor gave him meat, and understanding that he was masterless, he took him for his man, and Robin so plied his work that he got his master's love.