II.

No good luck to me my dream forebodes; For to me, to me, fair maid, it seemed, On my right hand did my gold ring burst, O'er the floor then rolled the precious stone.

The Bohemians preserved their nationality, and very probably with it their ancient popular songs, down to the seventeenth century. During the thirty years' war, of which Bohemia was in part almost uninterruptedly the seat, a complete revolution in manners, institutions, and localities, took place. Whole villages emigrated, or were driven into the wide world, wandering about in scattered groups as fugitives and mendicants. Most of the ancient songs may have died at that time. The German influence increased rapidly during the remainder of the seventeenth century, mostly by force and reluctantly; still more during the eighteenth century by habit, intermarriages, education, etc. The Bohemians, the most musical nation in the world, are still a singing people; but many of their ditties are evidently borrowed from the German; in others, invented by themselves, they exhibit a spirit entirely different from that of their ancestors. These modern songs are mostly rhymed. The following specimen of songs still current among the peasantry of Bohemia, will show well the harmless, playful, roguish spirit that pervades them.

THE FORSAKEN MAIDEN.

Little star with gloomy shine, If thou couldst but cry! If thou hadst a heart, my star, Sparks would from thee fly, Just as tears fall from mine eye.

All the night with golden sparks Thou wouldst for me cry! Since my love intends to wed, Only 'cause another maid Richer is than I.

LIBERAL PAY.

Flowing waters meet each other, And the winds, they blow and blow; Sweetheart with her bright blue eyes Stands and looks from her window.

Do not stand so at the window, Rather come before the door; If thou giv'st me two sweet kisses, I will give thee ten and more.

HAPPY DEATH.

In a green grove Sat a loving pair; Fell a bough from above, Struck them dead there. Happy for them, That both died together; So neither was left, To mourn for the other.

THE LYING BIRD.

What chatters there the little bird, On the oak tree above? It sings, that every maid in love Looks pale and wan from love.

My little bird, thou speak'st not true, A lie hast thou now said; For see, I am a maid in love, And am not pale, but red.

Take care, my bird; because thou liest, I now must punish thee; I take this gun, I load this gun, And shoot thee from the tree.

In the following fine ballad the German influence is manifest. It is extant in two different texts. We give it in Bowring's version, which has less of amplification and embellishment than is usual in English translations.

THE DEAD LOVE.

I sought the dark wood where the oat grass was growing; The maidens were there and that oat grass were mowing.

And I called to those maidens: "Now say if there be The maiden I love 'midst the maidens I see?"

And they sighed as they answered: "Ah no! alas no! She was laid in the bed of the tomb long ago." [57]

"Then show me the way where my footsteps must tread, To reach that dark chamber, where slumber the dead."

"The path is before thee, her grave will be known, By the rosemary wreaths her companions have thrown."

"And where is the church in church-yard, whose heaps Will point out the bed where the blessed one sleeps?"

So twice to the church-yard in sadness I drew, But I saw no fresh heap and no grave that was new.

I turned, and with heart-chilling terror I froze, And a newly made grave at my feet slowly rose.

And I heard a low voice, but it audibly said, "Disturb not, disturb not the sleep of the dead!

"Who treads on my bosom? what footsteps have swept The dew from the bed where the weary one slept?"

"My maiden, my maiden, so speak not to me, My presents were once not unwelcome to thee!"

"Thy presents were welcome, but none could I save, Not one could I bring to the stores of the grave.

"Go thou to my mother, and bid her restore To thy hands every gift which I valued before.

"Then fling the gold ring in the depth of the sea, And eternity's peace shall be given to me.

"And sink the white kerchief deep, deep in the wave, That my head may repose undisturbed in the grave!"

The Slovaks, the Slavic inhabitants of the north-western districts of Hungary, are considered, as we have seen above, as the direct descendants of the first Slavic settlers in Europe. Although for nearly a thousand years past they have formed a component part of the Hungarian nation, they have nevertheless preserved their language and many of their ancient customs. Their literature, we know, is not to be separated from that of the Bohemians. Their popular effusions are original; although, likewise, between them and the popular poetry of their Bohemian brethren, a close affinity cannot be denied. The Slovaks are said to be still exceedingly rich in pretty and artless songs, both pensive and cheerful; but the original Slavic type is now very much effaced from them. The surrounding nations, and above all the Germans, have exercised a decided and lasting influence upon them.

The following ballads are still heard among the Slovaks. The first of them is also extant in an imperfect German shape. As the coarse dialect, in which the German ballad may be heard, is that of the "Kuhländchen," a small district of Silesia, where the Slavic neighbourhood has not been without influence, we have no doubt that the more complete Slavic ballad is the original.

THE MOTHER'S CURSE.

The maiden went for water, To the well o'er the meadow away; She there could draw no water, So thick the frost it lay.

The mother she grew angry; She had it long to bemoan; "O daughter mine, O daughter, I would thou wert a stone!"

The maiden's water-pitcher Grew marble instantly; And she herself, the maiden, Became a maple tree.

There came one day two lads, Two minstrels young they were; "We've travelled far, my brother, Such a maple we saw no where.

"Come let us cut a fiddle, One fiddle for me and you; And from the same fine maple, For each one, fiddlesticks two."

They cut into the maple,-- There splashed the blood so red; The lads fell on the ground, So sore were they afraid.

Then spake from within the maiden: "Wherefore afraid are you? Cut out of me one fiddle, And for each one, fiddlesticks two.

"Then go and play right sadly, To my mother's door begone, And sing: Here is thy daughter, Whom thou didst curse to stone."

The lads they went, and sadly Their song to play began; The mother, when she heard them, Right to the window ran:

"O lads, dear lads, be silent, Do not my pain increase; For since I lost my daughter, My pain doth never cease!"

SUN AND MOON.

Ah! if but this evening Would come my lover sweet, With the bright, bright sun, Then the moon would meet.

Ah! poor girl this evening Comes not thy lover sweet; With the bright, bright sun, The moon doth never meet.

The reader will perceive that these Slovakian songs are rhymed. There are however also rhymeless verses extant among them; the measure of which seems to indicate a greater antiquity, and brings them nearer to the nations of the Eastern stock.[58]

Of all the Slavic nations, the POLES, as we have already remarked, had most neglected their popular poetry. There were indeed several collections of popular ballads published, partly by Polish editors, with the title of popular poetry in Poland. But they all, without exception, so far as we know, refer to the Ruthenian peasantry in Poland, who use a language different from the Polish, and essentially the same as the Malo-Russian. These tribes, inhabitants of Poland for centuries, may indeed be called _Poles_ with perfect propriety. Yet this name is in a more limited sense applied to the Lekhian race exclusively; and it is in respect to them that we remarked above, that their songs had been collected for the first time only a few years ago.[59]

That they also had national ballads of their own could hardly be a matter of doubt; and the neglect may easily be explained, in a nation among whom all that has any reference to mere boors and serfs has always been regarded with the utmost contempt. Their beautiful national dances, however, known all over the world, the graceful Polonaise, the bold Masur, the ingenious Cracovienne, are just as much the property of the peasantry, as of the nobility. Their dances were formerly always accompanied by singing; just as it was customary in olden times every where, and as it is still the usage among the Russian and Servian peasantry, to dance to the music of song instead of instruments. But these songs are always extemporized; and in Poland probably were never written down. The early refinement of the language secured to the upper classes a greater or lesser share in their national literature, which gave them apparently better things; although we have seen above, that, far from developing itself from its own resources, their literature was alternately ingrafted on a Latin, Italian, or French stock. Among the country gentry, and even at the convivial parties of the nobility, the custom of extemporizing songs, probably full of national reminiscences, continued even down to the beginning of our own century. Very little stress was naturally laid upon them; since the interest for all that is national, historical, or in any way connected with the people, belongs only to the most recent times. In our day, the local scenes of Lithuania have excited some interest, and the Ukraine has become the favourite theatre of Polish poets.

The Polish nation has an ancient hymn, which may be said to belong in some measure to popular poetry. It is known under the name of _Boga Rodzica_, or God's Mother; and is said to have been composed by St. Adalbert, who lived at the end of the tenth century. According to Niemcewicz, the Polish poet, it was still chanted in the year 1812 in the churches of Kola and Gnesen, the places where St. Adalbert lived and died. It is a prayer to the Virgin, ending with a sixfold Amen; and was formerly sung by the soldiers when advancing to battle. For that reason probably we find it frequently called a war song.

The popular ballads, published by Woicicki and Zegota Pauli, are not distinguished in any way from those still extant among the Slovakians, Bohemians, and Lusatian Sorabians. It can only be matter of surprise, that they have imbibed no more of the wild and romantic character of the ballads sung by the Ruthenians, with whom they live intermingled in several regions. They are ruder in form; and alternately rhymed, or distinguished from prose only by a certain irregular but prosodic measure, sometimes trochaic, but mostly dactylic. With the classical beauty of the Servian songs they can bear no comparison; in which latter the perfect absence of _vulgarity_ may perhaps be partly accounted for, by their having been produced among a people where no privileged classes exist. Only in their wedding songs, and other similar ones, is there a striking affinity; it is in general in these relics of ancient times, that the popular poetry of the nations of the Eastern and of the Western Stems meet in one distinct and fundamental accord.

Many of the more ancient ballads extant among the Poles we find also in one or other of the Western Slavic languages. For example, the following; which exists in the Vendish language in a shape more diffuse and twice as long; and also in Slovakian, still more sketchlike. That the Polish ballad is derived from a time, when the horrid invasions of the Tartars were at least still distinctly remembered, we may safely conclude. In the Slovakian ballad the invaders are called Turks; in the Vendish ballad, probably the latest of the three, they have lost all individual nationality, and have become merely "enemies," or "robbers."

THE INVASION OF THE TARTARS.[60]

Plundering are the Tartars, Plundering Jashdow castle.

All the people fled, Only a lad they met.

"Where's thy lord, my lad? Where and in what tower Is thy lady's bower?"

"I must not betray him, Lest my lord should slay me."

"Not his anger fear, Thou shalt stay not here, Thou shalt go with us."

"My lord's and lady's bower Is in the highest tower."

Once the Tartars shot, And they hit them not.

Twice the Tartars shot, And they killed the lord.

Thrice the Tartars shot-- They are breaking in the tower, The lady is in their power.

Away, away it goes, Over the green meadows, Black, black the walls arose!

"O lady, O turn back, To thy walls so sad and black.

"O walls, ye dreary walls! So sad and black are you, Because your lord they slew!

"Because your lord is slain, Your lady is dragged away Into captivity! A slave for life to be, Far, far in Tartary!"

Among the ballads of almost all nations we find some that illustrate the mournful and destitute state of _motherless orphans_. There seems to be hardly any feeling, which comes more directly home to the affectionate compassion of the human heart, than the pitiable and touching condition of helpless little beings left to the tender mercies of a _stepmother_; who, with her traditional severity, may be called a kind of standing bugbear of the popular imagination. The Danes have a beautiful ballad, in which the ghost of a mother is roused by the wailings and sufferings of her deserted offspring, to break with supernatural power the gravestone, and to re-enter, in the stillness of the night, the neglected nursery, in order to cheer, to nurse, to comb and wash the dear seven little ones, whom God once intrusted to her care. It is one of the most affecting pieces of popular poetry we ever have met with. The Slavic nations have nothing that can be compared with it in _beauty_; but most of them have several ballads on the same subject; and in a general collection, the "Orphan Ballads" would fill a whole chapter.[61] The simple ditty which we give here as another specimen of Polish popular poetry, exceedingly rude as it is in its form, and even defective in rhyme and metre, cannot but please and touch us by its very simplicity.

POOR ORPHAN CHILD.[62]

Poor little orphan is wandering about, Seeking its mother and weeping aloud.

Jesus Christ met it, mildly to it spake: "Where art thou roaming, poor little babe?

"Go not, go not, babe, too far thou wilt roam, And goest e'er so far, not to thy mother come.

"Now turn and go, dear babe, to the green cemetery, From out her deep grave thy mother will speak to thee."

"Wo! at my grave who's knocking so wild?" "Mother! dear mother! it's I, thy poor child!

"Take me to thee, take me, Ill I fare without thee!"

"Go home, my babe, and thy strange mother tell, She'll wash thy tattered shirt and comb and clean thee well!"

"When my shirt she washes, Sprinkles it with ashes.

"When she puts it on to me, Scolds so grim and bitterly!

"When she combs my head, Runs the blood so red.

"When she braids my hair, Pulls me here and there!"

"Go thee home, my babe, the Lord thy tears will dry!" And the babe went home, laid her down to cry.

Laid her down to cry, one day only cried; Groaned the second day, and the third day died.

From his heaven our Lord did two angels send, With the poor babe they did to heaven ascend.

From the hell our Lord did two devils send; They took the bad stepmother and down to hell they went.

Of all the surviving Slavic tribes, we have seen that the nationality of the VENDES of Lusatia is most endangered. If formerly, as a race, they suffered from persecution and oppression, they have now for several centuries shared all the advantages of an enlightened education and wise institutions with their German countrymen; and it would therefore be erroneous to consider them still in the light of an oppressed or subjugated nation. Although their language cannot be said to be _favoured_ by the government, they have their schools, their worship, their courts of justice, and, above all, their ballads, without let or hinderance; and if nevertheless the statistics of each year, especially in the plains of Lower Lusatia, show a diminution of the Slavic speaking population, we must attribute it rather to the natural and irresistible effect of time and circumstances, than to any despotic or arbitrary measures of the government. The Vendish villages are flourishing; the costumes of the peasants are heavy and rich; and to their general welfare the _cheerful_ merry character of their ballads seems to bear testimony. Their melodies resemble the Bohemian, as much as their ballads do those of their neighbours; but German melodies also are frequently heard among them, and many translations of German popular ballads have become perfectly naturalized. That the language of Upper Lusatia approaches very near to the Bohemian, we have stated above. It is, however, much more interspersed with German words; although not to such a degree as the Lower Lusatian dialect.

Of all the Slavic popular ballads, we find in those of the Lusatians least of that chaste feeling, which is in general characteristic of Slavic love songs. The pleasures of illicit intercourse and their consequences, which make also a favourite theme of the common English and German ballads, are often grossly described; and we may conclude that the talent of extemporizing, or in general making pretty verses, has forsaken the female villagers in this German neighbourhood, and passed over to the men.

We give here two characteristic ballads of the Upper Lusatian language.

THE ORPHAN'S LAMENT.[63]

Far more unhappy in the world am I, Than on the meadow the bird that doth fly.

Little bird merrily flits to and fro, Sings its sweet carol upon the green bough.

I, alas, wander wherever I will, Every where I am desolate still!

No one befriends me, wherever I go. But my own heart full of sorrow and woe!

Cease thy grief, oh my heart, full of grief, Soon will a time come that giveth thee relief.

Never misfortune has struck mo so hard, But I ere long again better have fared.

God of all else in the world has enough; Why not then widows and orphans enough?[64]

GOOD ADVICE FOR LADS.

Let him who would married be, Look about him and take care, That he does not take a wife, Take a wife; He'll repent it till his life.

If thou shouldst make up thy mind, And shouldst take too young a wife, Youthful wife has boiling blood, Boiling blood; No one thinks of her much good.

If thou shouldst make up thy mind, And shouldst take too old a wife, In the house she'll creep about, Creep about; And will frighten people out.

If thou shouldst make up thy mind, And shouldst take a handsome wife, Nought but trouble she will give, Trouble give; Others' visits she'll receive.

If thou shouldst make up thy mind, And shouldst take too short a wife, Lowly thou must stoop to her, Stoop to her, Wouldst thou whisper in her ear.

If thou shouldst make up thy mind, And shouldst take too tall a wife, Ladders thou to her must raise, Ladders raise, If thou wouldst thy wife embrace.

If thou shouldst make up thy mind, And shouldst take a snarling wife, Thou wilt want no dog in the house, Dog in the house; Thy wife will be the dog in the house.

As for poor ones, let them be, Nothing they will bring to thee, Every thing will wanting be, Wanting be; Not a soul will come to thee.

If thou shouldst make up thy mind, And shouldst take a wealthy wife, Then with patience thou must bear, Thou must bear, If the breeches she should wear.

Pretty, modest, smart, and neat, Good and pious she must be; If thou weddest such a wife, Such a wife, Thou'lt not repent it all thy life.

Merry ballads like these are usually sung at wedding feasts, where several of the old Slavic ceremonies are still preserved; among other things the bringing home of the bride in solemn procession. Many old verses, mostly fragments of half forgotten ballads, familiar to their ancestors, are in like manner occasionally recited. But the poetical atmosphere, which still weaves around the Russian or Servian maiden a mystical veil, through which she gazes, as in a dream full of golden illusions and images, into that condition of new existence feared and desired by her at once--that atmosphere is destroyed by the lights of the surrounding civilization, which show the sober reality of things in full glare. The flowers are withered that were wound around the chains; but the chains themselves have become lighter. The ancient wedding songs, full of pagan allusions, have been supplanted by glees mostly composed by their half German pastors; the only educated men who still speak their language. Indeed, not a few of their most popular ballads are written by their curates. How soon these will be superseded by German songs, no one can say; but it requires no great stretch of prophetic power to predict, that the time is near at hand.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: _Volks und Meisterlieder_, Frankf. a.M. 1817.]

[Footnote 2: _De Bello Gothico_, lib. iii. c. 14.]

[Footnote 3: Vol. I. p. 69.]

[Footnote 4: _Geschichte der Slavischen Sprache und Literatur_, p. 52.]

[Footnote 5: This song is among the few, which Russian critics think as ancient as the sixteenth century. See Karamzin's _History of Russia_, Vol. X, p. 264.]

[Footnote 6: Bowring'a translation.]

[Footnote 7: The piece to which we allude was in the possession of the Cardinal Albani, at Rome; but has since been carried to England. A fine copy in plaster is in the Museum at Paris; from which numerous drawings have been taken, now scattered all over Europe.]

[Footnote 8: _Kunst und Alterthum_, Vol. II. p. 49.]

[Footnote 9 _Narodne Srpske Pjesme skup. i izd. Vuk_ etc. Leipz. 1824. Vol. I. p. 55. _Volkslieder der Serben, von Talvj_, Halle 1825. Vol. I. p. 46.]

[Footnote 10: Pronounced _Yelitza_.]

[Footnote 11: The whole of this tale is translated in Bowring's little volume of "Servian Popular Poetry."]

[Footnote 12: The Greek ballad is entitled "The Journey by Night," and begins thus:

Manna, me tous ennea sou uious, kai me tên mia sou korê.

'O mother, thou, with thy nine sons, and with thine only daughter.'

A Russian ballad also begins very similarly:

"At Kief, in that famous town, Resided a rich widow; Nine sons the widow of Kief had, The tenth was a daughter dear."

The story however is essentially different.]

[Footnote 13: See above p. 306, n. 2.]

[Footnote 14: This remarkable fact is mentioned by all Russian historians, on the good authority of the ancient annalist Nestor.]

[Footnote 15: "The Tshuvashes have a Penate, which they call Erich. This Erich is nothing but a bundle of broom, _cytisus_, tied together in the middle with the inner bark of the linden. It consists of fifteen branches of equal size, about four feet long; above is a piece of tin attached to it. Each house has such an Erich, which usually stands in a corner of the entry. Nobody ventures to touch it. When it becomes dry, a new Erich is tied together, and the old one placed in running water with great reverence." See _Stimmen des Russ. Volks_, von P.v. Goetze, Stuttg. 1828, page 17.--The Tshuvashes, however, are not a Slavic, but a Finnish race, living under the Russian dominion.]

[Footnote 16: Dobrovsky's _Slavin_, 1834, p. 113.]

[Footnote 17: _Werke_, _Ausgabe letzter Hand_, Vol. XLVI. p. 332.]

[Footnote 18: In those four of our Russian specimens marked P, the translation is by J.G. Percival.]

[Footnote 19: Page 323.]

[Footnote 20: See above, p. 64.]

[Footnote 21: We say, 'to judge from the language.' But their coincidence with Bohemian ballads of the thirteenth century, and various other indications (e.g. their frequent mention of the Danube), seem to vindicate, for their groundwork at least, a very high antiquity.]

[Footnote 22: _Stimmen des Russischen Volkes_, von P.v. Goetze, Stuttg. 1848.]

[Footnote 23: Slavery in Russia is comparatively of modern date.]

[Footnote 24: _Pjesni Russkawo Naroda_, St. Petersb. 1837-39, Vol. IV. p. 29.--We would remark here, that all our specimens are translated, not by means of the German, but from the original languages, and that all the originals are (or have been) in our possession. It would have been easy to embellish these simple songs by little additions or omissions, the rhymeless ones by rhyme, and the rhymed ones by more regularity; but we could not possibly have done it without impairing the fidelity of such a version.]

[Footnote 25: Both these are bad omens for a Russian girl.]

[Footnote 26: Names of the street and gate in Moscow, through which formerly criminals were led to execution.]

[Footnote 27: _Buinaya golowushka_, that is, the _fierce, rebellious, impetuous head_, and _mogutshiya pletsha_, or _strong shoulders_, are standing expressions in Russia, in reference to a young hero; the former, especially, when there is allusion to some traitorous action.]

[Footnote 28: Sacharof's Collection, Vol. IV. p. 218; see p. 346.]

[Footnote 29: That is, the Russian governments Kief, Pultava, Tshernigof, Kharkof, and Yekatrinoslav. The latter, the cradle of the present population of Malo-Russia, belongs, according to the present geographical division of the Russian empire, to Southern Russia.]

[Footnote 30: The Polish poet Bogdjanski is said to have collected in the government of Pultava alone towards 8000! A great many of these consist, of course, only in variations of the same theme, owing to the failing memory of the singer. Maximovitch's Collection contains several thousand pieces.]

[Footnote 31: _Volkslieder der Polen gesammelt und übersezt, von W.P._ Leipzig 1833. It ought to have been called _Songs of the Ruthenian people in Poland_.]

[Footnote 32: The origin of this polite appellation is its rise in the Ivanovskoi Lake.]

[Footnote 33: Towards the close of the eighteenth century, Catharine II induced great numbers of the Zaporoguean Kozaks to move to the northern shore of the Kuban, east of the Black Sea or _Tshernayamora_, in order to protect the border against the Circassians. They are hence called Tshernomorskii, or Black Sea Kozaks.]

[Footnote 34: These affectionate feelings were gradually extended towards all the rivers of their ancient establishments. Their ballads express a tender attachment to Mother Wolga, Mother Kamyshenka, Mother Tsarytzina, etc.]

[Footnote 35: See above, p. 297.]

[Footnote 36: Yessaul is the name of that officer among the Kozaks, who stands immediately under the Hetman. The ballad refers to an incident which happened before 1648. It is from Sreznevski's _Starina Zaporoshnaya_, i.e. _History of the Zaporoguean Kozaks_, Kharkof 1837.]

[Footnote 37: Probably John Wihowski, Hetman after Chmielnicki. After the death of this latter, he fell off from Russia, and led the Kozaks back to Poland. It seems it was he who occasioned Pushkar's death.]

[Footnote 38: Manuscript.]

[Footnote 39: From Czelakowski's Collection; see above, p. 216, n. 58.]

[Footnote 40: From Sacharof's Collection, St. Petersb. 1839. Vol. IV. p. 497.]

[Footnote 41: The reader will find an elaborate essay on the popular poetry of the Ukraine in the Foreign Quarterly Review, Vol. XXVI. No. 51. It was evidently written by one of the Polish exiles in England. In it, however, a singular mistake is made as to the derivation of the appellation of the Zaporoguean Kozaks. _Porog_ does not mean "Island" in any Slavic language.]

[Footnote 42: See a description of this national dance in Wilkinson, _Dalmatia and Montenegro,_ I, p. 399.]

[Footnote 43: A Servian woman never would sit down in the presence of her husband. At table she stands behind him, and waits on him and his guests. Even the wife of prince Milosh did so; only with the restriction that she confined her services to her husband. The Morlachians--who seem indeed to be the _rudest_ part of the Servian population--do not mention their wives to a stranger without adding: "With your permission."]

[Footnote 44: The reader will find a description of a Morlachian wedding in Wilkinson, Vol. II. p. 164 sq. For a fuller account, see _Volkslieder der Serben, von Talvj_, Vol. II. Introduction.]

[Footnote 45: Servian popular poetry has properly no rhymes; but wherever a rhyme occasionally occurs, it appears to be welcome; so in this little piece, which is faithfully conformed to the original. All our specimens of the Servian "female" songs are taken from the first volume of Vuk's Collection. See above, p. 115.]

[Footnote 46: For more specimens see Bowring's _Servian Popular Poetry_, Lond. 1827. These little songs are there made much more attractive by giving them an English dress with _rhymes_, and accommodating them to the English way of feeling and expressing feelings; a proceeding which we have purposely avoided, because our only object is a _faithful_ translation. Dr. Bowring has moreover translated mainly from our German translation.]

[Footnote 47: A mountainous region in the vicinity of Montenegro.]

[Footnote 45: See the similar beginning of "Hassan Aga," p. 324 above.]

[Footnote 49: See an account of this remarkable custom, from the Abbate Fortia, in Wilkinson, II. p. 178 sq.]

[Footnote 59: This beautiful poem see in Vuk, III. p. 299 sq. Transl. by Talvi, II. p. 245.]

[Footnote 51: As the best illustration of this remark we recommend, among other examples, the poem on the death of Meho Orugditch, Vuk, III. p. 333 sq, Transl. by Talvi, II. p. 279 sq.]

[Footnote 52: From Czelakowsky's Collection; see above, p. 216, n. 58.]

[Footnote 53: From _Slowanske narodnj pjsne sebran. F.L. Czelakowskym_, Prague 1822-27. The collection of Carniolan ballads by Achazel and Korytko, which appeared in 1839, we have not yet seen.]

[Footnote 54: From _Rukopis Kralodworsky, etc. wydan od W. Hanky_, Prague 1835, p. 106.]

[Footnote 55: Ibid. pp. 107 sq. 197 sq. 131 sq.]

[Footnote 56: Taken down by Vuk from the lips of a peasant girl.]

[Footnote 57: In the original, _she was buried last week_. The lover could hardly expect to find a _new_ grave, if she had been buried _long ago_.]

[Footnote 58: All our Bohemian and Slovakian specimens are taken from Czelakowsky's Collection, as we happened not to be in possession of Kollar's and Erben's later work of that kind. For the full title see p. 385, note.]

[Footnote 59: See above p. 297.]

[Footnote 60: _Pjesni ludu Bialo Chrobatow, Mazurow i Russinow z nad Bugu zebr. przez K.W. Wojcickiego_, i.e. Songs of the White Chrobatians, Masovians, and Russinians on the Bug, collected by K.W. Woicicki, Warsaw 1836. Vol. I. p. 85. See above, p. 297.]

[Footnote 61: We have also two most exquisite Lithuanian ballads which treat of the same subject; one of them being the lament of a _fatherless_ boy.]

[Footnote 62: _Pjesni ludu Polskiego w Galicyi zebr. Zegoia Pauli_, Lemberg 1838, p. 57. See above, p. 297.]

[Footnote 63: _Pjesnicki hornich i delnich Luziskich Serbow_, i.e., Songs of the Servians of Upper and Lower Lusatia, published by L. Haupt and J.E. Schmaler, Grimma 1844. Comp. p. 304, above.]

[Footnote 64: A similar _naïvete_ we find in a little Servian elegy. A poor girl sings: "Our Lord has of every thing his fill; but of poor people he seems to have greater plenty than of any thing else!"]

* * * * *

INDEX.

NAMES OF SLAVIC AUTHORS MENTIONED IN THE PRECEDING WORK.

A.

Achazel, 142, 335. Aeneas, J. 190. Albertrandy, 269. Albertus, 131. Albick, 181. Alexeyef, 48. Alipanof, 97. Alter, 125. Ambrosius, 200. Anastasevitch, 85. Appendini, 132. Arsenief, 89, 91. Augusta, Pileator, 190. Augustini, 200.

B.

Bare, 248. Bagdanovitch, 68. Bahyl, G., 200, 218. Bahyl, M., 200. Baïkof, F. 58. Bajza, 219. Bakalarz, 179. Balbin, 197,201, 203. Balbus, 181. Balinski, 289. Bandulovich, 130. Bantkie, J.V. 298. --------- G.S. 241,269,271,248,298. Basatinksi, 96. Bardzinski, 255. Bartholomaides, 220. Barteszewski, 246. Basilius, 55. Baszko, 230. Batjushkof, 79. Bazylik, 248. Beckowski, 197. Berkowski, 271. Bel, 200, 218. Benedicti, S. 189. Benedictof, 96. Beneshowsky, 189, 211. Bentkowski, 225, 238, 249, 251. Beransky, 191. Berchtold, 206. Berg, 89. Beritch, 112. Bernatovicz, 296. Bernolak, 219, 221. Berynda, 45. Bestushef, 85, 93, 94. Bialobocki, 255. Bialobrzeski, 217. Biankovitch, 131 Bielowski, 98, 279. Bielski, Joach, 248. -------- Mart, 248. Bierling, 310. Bierkowski, 247. Bilegowsky, 191,193. Bitchonrin, see Hyacinth. Blahoslaw, 190. Blasius, 200. Blazowski, 248. Bobrof, 69. Bobrowski, 280. Bodtanski, 88. Boethlingk, 92. Bogashinovitch, 129. Bogufal, 230. Bogush, 84. Boguslawski, 279. Bohomolec, 278. Bohorizh, 140, 141. Bohusz, 271. Bohuslaw, 181. Bolchovitinof, 75, 84. Boldryef, 83. Boltin, 70. Bonus, 129. Borowsky, 191. Brankovilein, 111. Bratanofski, 71. Bratkowski, 256. Brezow, 162. Brodzinski, 274, 276. Bronefski, 81. Bronikowski, 286. Broscius, 255. Buchich, 136. Budny, 238, 247. Budow, 193. Bulgakof, 69. Bulgarin, 89, 93. Bulitch, 112. Bunin, Anna, 96. Burski, 296. Bushinsky, 63. Buturlin, 89. Bydzhowsky, 191. Bystrzycki, 281.