[311] iii. 20.

[312] iii. 29.

[313] _Ramay._ iv. 58, 59.

[314] For the numerous Eastern varieties of this legend, cfr. the Einleitung to the _Pancatantram_, of Prof. Benfey, p. 388, _seq._--In the fifth story of the first book of _Afana.s.sieff_ (cfr. the sixth of the same book), Little John is carried back from the bottom of the earth into Russia upon the wings of an eagle. When the eagle is hungry it turns its head, and Johnny gives it food; when the provisions come to an end, Johnny feeds it with his own flesh.--In the twenty-seventh story of the second book, the two young people are carried from the world of darkness into that of light on the wings of the bird Kolpalitza; when the provisions come to an end, it is the girl that gives flesh, cut off her thigh, to the bird. But the youth, who has with him the water of life, heals the amorous maiden; cfr. also _Afana.s.sieff_, v. 23, and v. 28, where, instead of the eagle, we find the hawk.--The same sacrifice of himself is made in a Piedmontese story, recorded by me in first number of the _Rivista Orientale_, by a young prince, who wishes to cross the sea in order to see the princess that he loves; the same is done by the young hero of the following unpublished Tuscan story, which I heard from a certain Martino Nardini of Prato:--"A three-headed dragon steals during the night the golden apples in the garden of the king of Portugal; the three sons of the king watch during the night: the first two fall asleep, but the third discovers the thief and wounds him. The day after, the three brothers follow the track caused by the robber's blood: they come to a beautiful palace, in which there is a cistern, into which the third brother is lowered down, taking a trumpet with him to sound when he wishes to be taken up. Following a dark path he comes to a fine meadow, where there are three splendid palaces, one of bronze, one of silver, and one of gold; following the trace of blood, he goes to the palace of bronze; a beautiful maiden opens the gate to him, and wonders why he has come down to the world underground; the young couple are pleased with each other, and promise to marry one another; the maiden has a crown of brilliants, of which she gives him half as a pledge. The dragon comes back home, and says:--

"Ucci, ucci O che puzzo di Cristianucci, O ce n' e, o ce n' e stati, O ce n' e di rimpiattati."

The maiden, who has concealed the young hero, caresses the dragon and makes him fall asleep. When he is asleep, she brings the young man out of his concealment, gives him a sword and tells him to cut the three heads off at one blow. Helped by a second maiden, the young hero prepares to accomplish a second undertaking in the silver palace of the five-headed dragon. He must cut the five heads off at a blow, for if one remains, it is as if he had cut none off. After having killed the dragon, he promises to marry the second maiden too. Finally, he knocks at the gate of the golden palace, which is opened by a third maiden; she too asks, "What ever induced you to come to lose your life in the lower world? The seven-headed dragon lives here." He promises to marry her; the dragon does not wish to go to rest this night; but the maiden persuades him to do so, upon which the youth cuts off the seven heads in two strokes. The three girls, who were three princesses carried off by the dragons, are released, and take all the riches that they can find in order to carry them into the upper world. They come to the cistern, the hero sounds the trumpet, and the two brothers draw up all the riches, the three maidens, shutting up the entrance with a stone, and leaving their young brother alone in the subterranean world. The two elder brothers force the three princesses to declare that they had delivered them; they then go to the King of Portugal and boast of this feat, saying, that the third brother is lost. The three princesses are sad, at which the King of Portugal wonders. The elder brothers wish to marry the maiden who was in the bronze palace; but she declares that she will only marry him who brings to her the other half of the crown of brilliants.

They send to all the goldsmiths and jewellers to find one who can make it. Meanwhile, the third brother, abandoned underground, cries out for aid; an eagle approaches the tomb, and promises to carry him into the world above, if he will allay its hunger. The young hero, by the eagle's advice, puts lizards and serpents into a sack, and calls the eagle after having made a plentiful provision of food. He fastens the sack round his neck in order to give an animal to the eagle each time that it asks for food. When they are a few arms' length distant from the upper world, the sack is empty; the youth cuts his flesh off with a knife and gives it to the eagle, which carries him into the world, when the young man asks him how he can return home. The bird directs him to follow the high road. A charcoal-seller pa.s.ses by; the young man proposes himself as his a.s.sistant, on condition that he give him some food. The charcoal-seller takes him with himself for some time, and then recommends him to an old man, his friend, who is a silversmith. Meanwhile, the king's servants have been six months wandering towards the sunset, searching for a silversmith capable of making the other half of the crown, but in vain; they then wander for six months towards the sunrise till they come to the dwelling of the poor silversmith where the third brother serves as an a.s.sistant. The old man says he is not able to make the half crown; but the young man asks to see the other half, recognises it, and promises to give it back entire in eight days. At the expiration of this time, the king sends for the crown and the manufacturer, but the youth sends his master instead of himself. The princess, however, insists upon seeing the young a.s.sistant too; he is sent for and brought to the palace; the king does not recognise him, and asks what reward he wants; he answers that he wishes for what the crown cost to the princess. The latter recognises him, after which his father does so too. The young hero weds the princess to whom he had promised himself; and the two brothers are covered with inflammable gums, and used as lamps to light up the wedding.

[315] In a hitherto unpublished story of the Monferrato, communicated to me by Signor Ferraro, a king with three sons is blind; he would be cured if he could bathe his eyes in oil with a feather of the griffon-bird, which lives upon a high mountain. The third brother succeeds in catching one, having been kind to an old woman; he brings the griffon-bird to his father, who recovers his sight and his youth.--Cfr. the third story of the fourth book of the _Pentamerone_, in which a hawk that is a princess transformed, also gives to the brother of his wife one of his feathers, which he is to throw to the ground in case of necessity; indeed, when young t.i.ttone requires it, a battalion of hawks appear in order to free the imprisoned maiden loved by t.i.ttone.--In the fifth story of the fifth book of the _Pentamerone_, the hawk serves as a guide to a young king to find a beautiful princess whom a witch has put to sleep, and who is believed to be dead. This princess becomes the mother of two sons, who are called Sun and Moon.--In the sixth Sicilian story of Signora Gonzenbach, a young man releases an eagle that was entangled in the branches of a tree; the grateful eagle gives him one of its feathers; letting it fall to the ground, the youth can become an eagle at pleasure.

[316] In the ninth Esthonian story it is the eagle that takes the message to the thunder-G.o.d to enable him to recover his weapon, which the devil had carried off.--In the first Esthonian story, the eagle also appears as the propitious messenger of the young prince.

[317] In the story of Santo Stefano, _La Principessa che non ride_, the eaglets have the same faculty of drawing after themselves everything that they touch; and, as forms of the winds (or the clouds), in which character they sometimes appear, we can understand this property of theirs; the wind, too, draws after itself everything that comes in its way, and especially the violent north wind (aquilo).--In Russian stories we have, instead, now the funereal storks, now the marvellous goose taking the place of the eagle that drags things behind it.

[318] In the tenth Sicilian story of Signora Gonzenbach, it is in the shape of a silver eagle that the king of the a.s.sa.s.sins penetrates into the room where the young wife of the king sleeps, upon whom he wishes to avenge himself.--Stepha.n.u.s Stephanius, the interpreter of _Saxo Grammaticus_, writes, that among the English, the Danes, and other Northern nations, it was the custom when an enemy was defeated, to thrust a sword, as a greater mark of ignominy, into his back, in such a manner as to separate the backbone on both sides by a longitudinal wound; thence stripes of flesh having been cut off, they were fastened to the sides, so as to represent eagle's wings. (In Russian popular stories, when heroes and monsters fight, we find frequent reference to a similar custom.)

[319] Panravilas satana lucshe yasnavo sakala, _Afana.s.sieff_, vi.

16.--The proverb, however, may have another sense, viz., better the devil in person than a beautiful but diabolical shape. The devil sometimes a.s.sumed the form of a hawk, as we learn from the legend of Endo, an English man-at-arms, who became enamoured of one into which the devil had transformed himself, in Guillelmus Neubrigensis, _Hist.

Angl._ i. 19.

[320] In Plato's _Phaedon_, rapacious men are transformed into wolves and kites.

[321] Cfr. Aldrovandi, _Ornith._ v.--And, moreover, in the same Aldrovandi:--"Narrant qui res Africanas literis mandarunt Aquilam marem aliquando c.u.m Lupa coire ... producique ac edi Draconem, qui rostro et alis avis speciem referat, cauda serpentem, pede Lupum, cute esse versicolorem, nec supercilia posse attollere."

[322] I recommend, to whoever wishes to find all these circ.u.mstances united, the perusal of the first volume of the _Ornithologia_ of Aldrovandi, who dedicated in it to birds of prey a long and detailed study.--Cfr. also Bachofen. _Die Sage von Tanaquil_, Heidelberg, 1870.

[323] Comparative popular medicine might be the subject of a special work which could not fail to be instructive and interesting.

[324]

"Come l'Araba Fenice; Che ci sia, ciascun lo dice; Dove sia, nessun lo sa."

[325] Cfr. _Afana.s.sieff_, v. 27.

[326] _Itin._ i.

[327] In the first chapter of the first book we saw how the witch sucked the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the beautiful maiden.--In _Du Cange_, s. v.

_Amma_, we read as follows: "Isidorus, lib. xii. cap. vii. bubo strix nocturna: 'Haec avis, inquit ille, vulgo Amma dicitur ab amando parvulos, unde et lac praebere dicitur nascentibus.' Anilem hanc fabulam non habet Papias MS. Ecclesiae Bituricensis. Sic enim ille: Amma avis nocturna ab amando dicta, haec et strix dicitur a stridore."

[328] Ma mam ime patatri?i vi dugdham; _?igv._ i. 158, 4.--In Sicily, the bat called _taddarita_ is considered as a form of the demon; to take and kill it, one sings to it--

"Taddarita, 'ncanna, 'ncanna, Lu dimonio ti 'ncanna E ti 'ncanna pri li peni Taddarita, veni, veni."

When it is caught, it is conjured, because, when it shrieks, it blasphemes. Hence it is killed at the flame of a candle or at the fire, or else is crucified.

[329] According to a Sicilian story, as yet unpublished, communicated to me by Dr Ferraro, a siren once carried off a girl, and bore her out to sea with her; and, though she occasionally allowed her to come to the sh.o.r.e, she secured her against running away by means of a chain which was fastened to her own tail. The brother released his sister by throwing bread and meat to the siren to satiate her hunger, employing seven blacksmiths the while to cut the chain.

[330] Cfr. the _Pentamerone_, iv. 7; and the legend of Lohengrin, in the chapter on the Swan.

CHAPTER III.

THE WREN, THE BEETLE, AND THE FIREFLY.

SUMMARY.

_Rex and regulus_.--Iyattika cakuntika.--The wren's testament.--Vasiliskos; kunigli.--The wren and the eagle.--The wren and the beetle.--The death of Caesar predicted by a wren.--_Equus lunae._--Indragopas.--The red-mantled beetle.--The little cow of G.o.d in Russia.--The chicken of St Michael in Piedmont.--The cow-lady.--The Lucia and St Lucia.--The little pig of St Anthony; the b.u.t.terfly as a phallical symbol.--The c.o.c.kchafer.--St Nicholas.--Other popular names of the coccinella septempunctata.--The ladycow tells children how many years they have to live.--The firefly and the refulgent glowworm.--The firefly flogged; it gives light to the wheat; the shepherd's candle.

From the largest of birds we now pa.s.s to the smallest, from the _rex_ to the _regulus_ (in Italian, _capo d'oro_, golden head), and to the red, golden, and green beetles (yellow and green are confounded with one another, as we showed on a previous occasion, in the equivocal words, _haris_ and _harit_), which are equivalent to it, and which are subst.i.tuted for it in mythology. I recognise the wren in the very little bird (iyattika cakuntika) of the _?igvedas_, which devours the poison of the sun.[331] In a popular German song, the wren bewails the evils of winter, which, for the rest, it represents (in its character of the moon, it absorbs the solar vapours). A popular song of Scotch children celebrates the wren's testament--

"The wren, she lies in care's nest, Wi' meikle dole and pyne."

The wren (Greek, _basiliskos_; old German, _kunigli_), like the beetle, appears as the rival of the eagle. It flies higher than the latter. In a story of the Monferrato,[332] the wren and the eagle challenge each other to a trial of their powers of flight. All the birds are present. While the proud eagle rises in the air, despising the wren, and flies so high that it is soon wearied, the wren has placed itself under one of the eagle's wings, and when it sees the latter exhausted, comes out, and, singing victory, rises higher still.

Pliny says that the eagle is the enemy of the wren: "Quoniam rex appellatur avium." Aristotle, too, relates that the eagle and the wren fight against each other. The fable of the challenge between the eagle and the wren was already known in antiquity; the challenge was said to have been given when the birds wished to procure for themselves a king. The eagle, which had flown higher than all the other birds, was about to be proclaimed king, when the wren, hidden under one of the eagle's wings, flew upon the latter's head, and proclaimed itself victorious. The wren and the beetle seem generally to represent the moon, known to be the protectress of weddings; for this reason, according to Aratos, weddings were not to take place whilst the wren was hidden in the earth. We know how the full moon (a phallical symbol) was considered the most propitious season for weddings).

According to Suetonius, the death of Caesar was predicted to happen on the Ides of March by a wren, which was torn in pieces by several other birds in the Pompeian temple, as it was carrying a laurel branch away (as the eagle does; out of the wintry darkness, ruled over by the moon in particular, spring comes forth; the dark eagle represents sometimes the darkness, as the wren the moon, which wanders in the darkness).

We saw the beetle that flies upon the eagle in the preceding chapter.

Pliny says of the Persian Magi that they charmed away hail, locusts, and every similar evil from the country, when "aquilae scalperentur aut scarabei," with an emerald. According to Telesius, the Calabrians, in the Cosentino, call the gold-green beetle by the name of the horse of the moon (equus lunae). This is the sacred beetle, which is so often represented in ancient cameos and obelisks, and in the Isiac peplums of the mummies. But there is another beetle which is yet more familiar to Indo-European tradition--viz., the little and nearly round one, with a red mantle and black spots (ladybird or cow-lady). It was already known in India, where the name of _indragopas_ (protected by Indras) is given to a red beetle. In a Hindoo verse we read that the mantled red beetle falls down because it has flown too high[333] (in this myth the rising and setting both of the moon and of the sun are represented; cfr. the legends of Icaros, Hanumant, and Sampatis). In Germany the red beetle is advised to flee because its house is on fire.[334] In Russia the same red beetle with black spots is called the little cow of G.o.d (we have already seen the cow-moon), and children say to it--

"Little cow of G.o.d, Fly to the sky, G.o.d will give you bread."[335]

In Piedmont the same beetle is called the chicken of St Michael, and children say to it--

"Chicken of St Michael, Put on your wings and fly to heaven."[336]

In Tuscany it is called lucia,[337] and children cry out to it--

"Lucia, lucia Metti l'ali e vola via."

(Put out your wings and fly away.) The red beetle with black spots is also called St Nicholas (Santu Nicola), or even little dove (palumedda). When one of their teeth falls, children expect a gift from the beetle; they hide the tooth in a hole, and then invoke the little animal;[338] returning to the place, they usually find a coin there, deposited by their father or mother. The red beetle, the ladycow of the English (coccinella septempunctata), has several names in Germany, which have been collected by Mannhardt in his German Mythology; among others, we find those of little bird of G.o.d, little horse of G.o.d, little c.o.c.k of Mary, little c.o.c.k of gold, little animal of heaven, little bird of the sun, little c.o.c.k of the sun, little calf of the sun, little sun, little cow of women (it is therefore also invoked for milk and b.u.t.ter), and little c.o.c.k of women. German maidens, in fact, in Upland, send it to their lovers as a messenger of love, with the following verses:--

"Jungfrau Marias, Schlusselmagd, Flieg nach Osten, Flieg nach Westen, Flieg dahin wo mein Liebster wohnt."[339]

The ladycow shows the Swedish maidens their bridal gloves; Swiss children interrogate it (in the same way as the cuckoo is interrogated) to know how many years they will live.[340]

The worship which is given to the red beetle is a.n.a.logous to that reserved for the firefly (cicindela); the firefly, however, like the German Feuerkafer, which German children, in spring, strike in a hole and carry home[341] the luminous glowworm that hides in hedges, like the wren, called also in Italian _forasiepe_, pierce-hedge, round which glowworm the stupid monkeys of the _Pancatantram_ sit in winter to warm themselves), is not treated so well. In Tuscany the poor firefly, which appears in late spring (in Germany it appears somewhat later, whence its name of Johanniswurmchen), is menaced with a flogging, and children sing to it after catching it:--

"Lucciola, lucciola, vien da me, Ti dar un pan del re,[342]

Con dell' ova affritellate, Carne secca e bastonate."

(Firefly, firefly, come to me; I will give you a king's loaf of bread, with fried eggs, bacon, and a flogging.) It is said in Tuscany that the firefly gives light to the wheat when the corn begins to grow in the ear; when it has grown, the firefly disappears.[343] Children are accustomed to catch the firefly and put it under a gla.s.s, hoping in the morning they will find a coin instead of the firefly. In Sicily, the firefly is called the little candle of the shepherd (_cannilicchia di picuraru_; the shepherd, or celestial pastor, the sun; the moon gives light to the sun and shows him the way to traverse from autumn to spring, from evening to day), and is sought for and carried home to secure good luck. And inasmuch as the firefly shines by night, it is more probable that it represented the moon than the sun in popular mythical beliefs. The firefly disappears as soon as the ears are ripe, _i.e._, with the summer; we have already seen that the winter, or cold season of the year (like the night or cold season of the day) is under the especial influence of the moon. The red beetle must flee when summer comes, in order not to be burnt; the firefly, the glowworm, or worm of fire, is flogged, and the summer sun triumphs.