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A short story by Dean S. Fansler |
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The Three Brothers (Tale 17) |
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Title: The Three Brothers (Tale 17) Author: Dean S. Fansler [More Titles by Fansler] Narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, a Bicol from Tigaon, Camarines. The narrator says, "This story was told to me by an old man who happened to stay at our house one night. He was a traveller. I was then a little boy."
In the course of time, however, when they were about eight, seven, and six years old, Pedro, Felipe, and Juan became monstrously great eaters. Each would eat at a single meal six or seven chupas [59] of rice: consequently their father was obliged to work very hard, for he had five mouths to feed. In this state of affairs, Tetong felt that, although these children had been born to him and his wife as an increase of their happiness, they would finally exhaust what little he had. Nor was Maria any the less aware of the gluttony of her sons. By degrees their love for their sons ripened into hatred, and at last Tetong resolved to do away with his children. One night, while he and his wife were sitting before their dim light and their three sons were asleep, Tetong said to his wife, "Do you not think it would be better to get rid of our sons? As you see, we are daily becoming poorer and poorer because of them. I have decided to cast them away into some distant wild forest, where they may feed themselves on fruits or roots." On hearing these words of her husband, Maria turned pale: her blood ran cold in her veins. But what could she do? She felt the same distress as her husband. After a few moments of silence, she replied in a faltering voice, "My husband, you may do as you wish." Accordingly Tetong made ready the necessary provisions for the journey, which consisted of a sack of rice and some preserved fish. The next morning, on the pretext of planting camotes [60] and corn on the hill some thirty miles away from the village, he ordered his sons to accompany him. When they came to a forest, their father led them through a circuitous path, and at last took them to the hill. As soon as they arrived there, each set to work: one cut down trees, another built a shed, and the others cleared a piece of land in which to plant the camotes and corn. After two weeks their provisions were almost used up. Tetong then called his sons together, and said to them, "My sons, we have very little to eat now. I am going to leave you for some days: I am going back to our village to get rice and fish. Be very good to one another, and continue working, for our camotes will soon have roots, and our corn ears." Having said these words, he blessed them and left. Days, weeks, and months elapsed, but Tetong did not reappear. The corn bore ears, and the camotes produced big sound roots; but these were not sufficient to support the three brothers. Nor did they know the way back to their home. At last, realizing that their father and mother did not care for them any more, they agreed to wander about and look for food. They roved through woods, thickets, and jungles. At last, fatigued and with bodies tired and bruised, they came to a wide river, on the bank of which they stopped to rest. While they were bewailing their unhappy lot, they caught sight, on the other side of the river, of banana-trees with bunches of ripe fruit. They determined to get those fruits; but, as they knew nothing about swimming, they had to cut down bamboos and join them together to bridge the stream. So great was their hunger, that each ate three bunches of the ripe bananas. After they had satisfied their hunger, they continued on their way refreshed. Soon they came upon a dark abyss. Curious to know what it might contain, the three brothers looked down into it, but they could not see the bottom. Not contented, however, with only seeing into the well, they decided to go to the very bottom: so they gathered vines and connected them into a rope. Pedro was the first to make the attempt, but he could not stand the darkness. Then Felipe tried; but he too became frightened, and could not stay long in the dark. At last Juan's turn came. He went down to the very bottom of the abyss, where he found a vast plain covered with trees and bushes and shrubs. On one side he saw at a short distance a green house. He approached the house, and saw a most beautiful lady sitting at the door. When she saw him, she said to him in friendly tones, "Hail, Juan! I wonder at your coming, for no earthly creature has ever before been here. However, you are welcome to my house." With words of compliment Juan accepted her invitation, and entered the house. He was kindly received by that lady, Maria. They fell in love with each other, and she agreed to go with Juan to his home. They had talked together but a short while, when Maria suddenly told Juan to hide, for her guardian, the giant, was coming. Soon the monster appeared, and said to Maria in a terrible voice, "You are concealing some one. I smell human flesh." She denied that she was, but the giant searched all corners of the house. At last Juan was found, and he boldly fought with the monster. He received many wounds, but they were easily healed by Maria's magic medicine. After a terrific struggle, the giant was killed. Maria applauded Juan's valor. She gave him food, and related stories to him while he was eating. She also told him of her neighbor Isabella, none the less beautiful than she. Juan, in turn, told her of many things in his own home that were not found in that subterranean plain. When he had finished eating and had recovered his strength, Juan said that they had better take Isabella along with them too. Maria agreed to this. Accordingly Juan set out to get Isabella. When he came to her house, she was looking out the window. As soon as she saw him, she exclaimed in a friendly manner, "O Juan! what have you come here for? Since my birth I have never seen an earthly creature like you!" "Madam," returned Juan in a low voice, "my appearance before you is due to some Invisible Being I cannot describe to you." The moment Isabella heard these words, she blushed. "Juan," she said, "come up!" Juan entered, and related to her his unfortunate lot, and how he had found the abyss. Finally, struck with Isabella's fascinating beauty, Juan expressed his love for her. They had not been talking long together, when footsteps were heard approaching nearer and nearer. It was her guardian, the seven-headed monster. "Isabella," it growled, with an angry look about, "some human creature must be somewhere in the house." "There is nobody in the house but me," she exclaimed. The monster, however, insisted. Seeking all about the house, it at last discovered Juan, who at once attacked with his sword. In this encounter he was also successful, cutting off all the seven heads of the monster. With great joy Juan and Isabella returned to Maria's house. Then the three went to the foot of the well. There Juan found the vine still suspended. He tied one end of it around Isabella's waist, and then she was pulled up by the two brothers waiting above. When they saw her, Pedro and Felipe each claimed her, saying almost at the same time, "What a beauty! She is mine." Isabella assured them that there were other ladies below prettier than she. When he heard these words, Felipe dropped one end of the vine again. When Maria reached the top of the well, Felipe felt glad, and claimed her for himself. As the two brothers each had a maiden now, they would not drop the vine a third time; but finally Maria persuaded them to do so. On seeing only their brother's figure, however, the two unfeeling brothers let go of the vine, and Juan plunged back into the darkness. "O my friends!" said Maria, weeping, "this is not the way to treat a brother. Had it not been for him, we should not be here now." Then she took her magic comb, saying to it, "Comb, if you find Juan dead, revive him; if his legs and arms are broken, restore them." Then she dropped it down the well. By means of this magic comb, Juan was brought back to life. The moment he was able to move his limbs, he groped his way in the dark, and finally he found himself in the same subterranean plain again. As he knew of no way to get back to earth, he made up his mind to accept his fate. As he was lazily strolling about, he came to a leafy tree with spreading branches. He climbed up to take a siesta among its fresh branches. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard a voice calling, "Juan, Juan! Wake up! Go to the Land of the Pilgrims, for there your lot awaits you." He opened his eyes and looked about him, but he saw nothing. "It is only a bird," he said, "that is disturbing my sleep." So he shut his eyes again. After some moments the same voice was heard again from the top of the tree. He looked up, but he could not see any one. However, the voice continued calling to him so loudly, that he could not sleep. So he descended from the tree to find that land. In his wanderings he met an old man wearing very ragged, worn-out clothes. Juan asked him about the Land of the Pilgrims. The old man said to him, "Here, take this piece of cloth, which, as you see, I have torn off my garment, and show it to a hermit you will find living at a little distance from here. Then tell him your wish." Juan took the cloth and went to the hermit. When the hermit saw Juan entering his courtyard without permission, he was very angry. "Hermit," said Juan, "I have come here on a very important mission. While I was sleeping among the branches of a tree, a bird sang to me repeatedly that I must go to the Land of the Pilgrims, where my lot awaits me. I resolved to look for this land. On my way I met an old man, who gave me this piece of cloth and told me to show it to you and ask you about this place I have mentioned." When the hermit saw the cloth, his anger was turned into sorrow and kindness. "Juan," he said, "I have been here a long time, but I have never seen that old man." Now, this hermit had in his care all species of animals. He summoned them all into his courtyard, and asked each about the Land of the Pilgrims; but none could give any information. When he had asked them all in vain, the hermit told Juan to go to another hermit living some distance away. Accordingly Juan left to find this hermit. At first, like the other, this hermit was angry on seeing Juan; but when he saw the piece of cloth, his anger was turned into pity and sorrow. Juan told him what he was looking for, and the hermit sounded a loud trumpet. In a moment there was an instantaneous rushing of birds of every description. He asked every one about the Land of the Pilgrims, but not one knew of the place. But just as Juan was about to leave, suddenly there came an eagle swooping down into the courtyard. When asked if it knew of the Land of the Pilgrims, it nodded its head. The hermit then ordered it to bear Juan to the Land of the Pilgrims. It willingly obeyed, and flew across seas and over mountains with Juan on its back. After Juan had been carried to the wished-for land, the eagle returned to its master. Here Juan lived with a poor couple, who cared for him as if he were their own child, and he served them in turn. He asked them about the land they were living in. They told him that it was governed by a tyrannical king who had a beautiful daughter. They said that many princes who courted her had been put to death because they had failed to fulfil the tasks required of them. When Juan heard of this beautiful princess, he said to himself, "This is the lot that awaits me. She is to be my wife." So, in spite of the dangers he ran the risk of, he resolved to woo her. One day, when her tutors were away, he made a kite, to which he fastened a letter addressed to the princess, and flew it. While she was strolling about in her garden, the kite suddenly swooped down before her. She was surprised, and wondered. "What impudent knave," she said, "ventures to let fall his kite in my garden?" She stepped towards the kite, looked at it, and saw the letter written in bold hand. She read it. After a few moments' hesitation, she replaced it with a letter of her own in which she told him to come under the window of her tower. When he came there, the princess spoke to him in this manner: "Juan, if you really love me, you must undergo hardships. Show yourself to my father to-morrow, and agree to do all that he commands you to do. Then come back to me." Juan willingly promised to undertake any difficulties for her sake. The next morning Juan waited at the stairway of the king's palace. The king said to him, "Who are you, and what do you come here for?" "O king! I am Juan, and I have come here to marry your daughter." "Very well, Juan, you can have your wish if you perform the task I set you. Take these grains of wheat and plant them in that hill, and to-morrow morning bring me, out of these same grains, newly baked bread for my breakfast. Then you shall be married immediately to my daughter. But if you fail to accomplish this task, you shall be beheaded." Juan bowed his head low, and left. Sorrowful he appeared before the princess. "What's the matter, Juan?" she said. "O my dear princess! your father has imposed on me a task impossible to perform. He gave me these grains of wheat to be planted in that hill, and to-morrow he expects a newly baked loaf of bread from them." "Don't worry, Juan. Go home now, and to-morrow show yourself to my father. The bread will be ready when he awakes." The next morning Juan repaired to the palace, and was glad to find the bread already on the table. When the king woke up, he was astonished to see that Juan had performed the task. "Now, Juan," said the king, "one more task for you. Under my window I have two big jars,--one full of mongo, [61] the other of very fine sand. I will mix them, and you have to assort them so that each kind is in its proper jar again." Juan promised to fulfil this task. He passed by the window of the princess, and told her what the king had said. "Go home and come back here to-morrow," she said to him. "The king will find the mongo and sand in their proper jars." The next morning Juan went back to the palace. The king, just arisen from bed, looked out of the window, and was astounded to see the mongo and sand perfectly assorted. "Well, Juan," said the king, "you have successfully performed the tasks I required of you. But I have one thing more to ask of you. Yesterday afternoon, while my wife and I were walking along the seashore, my gold ring fell into the water. I want you to find it, and bring it to me to-morrow morning." "Your desire shall be fulfilled, O king!" replied Juan. He told the princess of the king's wish. "Come here tomorrow just before dawn," she said, "and bring a big basin and a bolo. We will go together to find the ring." Just before dawn the next day he went to her tower, where she was waiting for him in the disguise of a village maid. They went to the seashore where the ring was supposed to have been lost. There the princess Maria--that was her name--said to him, "Now take your basin and bolo and cut me to pieces. Pour out the chopped mass into the water in which my father's ring was dropped, but take care not to let a single piece of the flesh fall to the ground!" On hearing these words, Juan stood dumfounded, and began to weep. Then in an imploring tone he said, "O my beloved! I would rather have you chop my body than chop yours." "If you love me," she said, "do as I tell you." Then Juan reluctantly seized the bolo, and with closed eyes cut her body to pieces and poured the mass into the water where the ring was supposed to be. In five minutes there rose from the water the princess with the ring on her finger. But Juan fell asleep; and before he awoke, the ring fell into the water again. "Oh, how little you love me!" she exclaimed. "The ring fell because you did not catch it quickly from my finger. Cut up my body as before, and pour the mass of flesh into the water again." Accordingly Juan cut her to pieces a second time, and again poured the mass into the water. Then in a short time Maria rose from the water with the ring on her finger; but Juan fell asleep again, and again the ring fell back into the water. Now Maria was angry: so she cut a gash on his finger, and told him to cut her body to pieces and pour the mass out as before. At last the ring was found again. This time Juan was awake, and he quickly caught the ring as she rose from the water. That morning Juan went before the king and presented the ring to him. When the monarch saw it, he was greatly astonished, and said to himself, "How does he accomplish all the tasks I have given him? Surely he must be a man of supernatural powers." Raising his head, he said to Juan, "Juan, you are indeed the man who deserves the hand of my daughter; but I want you to do me one more service. This will be the last. Fetch me my horse, for I want to go out hunting to-day." Now, this horse could run just as fast as the wind. It was a very wild horse, too, and no one could catch it except the king himself and the princess. Juan promised, however, and repaired to Maria's tower. When she learned her father's wish, she went with Juan and helped him catch the horse. After they had caught it, she caught hers too. Then they returned to the palace. Juan and Maria now agreed to run away. So after Juan had tied the king's horse near the stairway, they mounted Maria's horse and rode off rapidly. When the king could not find his daughter, he got on his horse and started in pursuit of Juan and Maria, who were now some miles ahead. But the king's horse ran so fast, that in a few minutes he had almost overtaken the fugitives. Maria, seeing her father behind them, dropped her comb, and in the wink of an eye a thick grove of bamboos blocked the king's way. By his order, a road was made through the bamboo in a very short time. Then he continued his chase; but just as he was about to overtake them a second time, Maria flung down her ring, and there rose up seven high hills behind them. The king was thus delayed again; but his horse shot over these hills as fast as the wind, so that in a few minutes he was once more in sight of the fugitives. This time Maria turned around and spat. Immediately a wide sea appeared behind them. The king gave up his pursuit, and only uttered these words: "O ungrateful daughter!" Then he turned back to his palace. The young lovers continued their journey until they came to a small village. Here they decided to be married, so they at once went to the village priest. He married them that very day. Juan and Maria now determined to live in that place the rest of their lives, so they bought a house and a piece of land. As time went by, Juan thought of his parents. One day he asked permission from his wife to visit his father and mother. "You may go," she said; "but remember not to let a single drop of your father's or mother's tears fall on your cheeks, for you will forget me if you do." Promising to remember her words, Juan set out. When his parents saw him, they were so glad that they embraced him and almost bathed him with tears of joy. Juan forgot Maria. It happened that on the day Juan reached home, Felipe, his brother, was married to Maria, the subterranean lady, and a feast was being held in the family circle. The moment Maria recognized Juan, whom she loved most, she annulled her marriage with Felipe, and wanted to marry Juan. Accordingly the village was called to settle the question, and Maria and Juan were married that same day. The merrymaking and dancing continued. In the mean time there came, to the surprise of every one, a beautiful princess riding in a golden carriage drawn by fine horses. She was invited to the dance. While the people were enjoying themselves dancing and singing, they were suddenly drawn together around this princess to see what she was doing. She was sitting in the middle of the hall. Before her she had a dog chained. Then she began to ask the dog these questions:-- "Did you not serve a certain king for his daughter?" "No!" answered the dog. "Did he not give you grains of wheat to be planted in a hill, and the morning following you were to give him newly baked bread made from the wheat?" "No!" "Did he not mix together two jars of mongo and sand, then order you to assort them so that the mongo was in one jar and the sand in the other?" "No!" "Do you not remember when you and a princess went together to the seashore to find the ring of her father, and when you cut her body to pieces and poured the chopped mass into the water?" When Juan, who was watching, heard this last question, he rushed from the ring of people that surrounded her and knelt before her, saying, "O my most precious wife! I implore your forgiveness!" Then the new-comer, who was none other than Maria, Juan's true wife, embraced him, and their former love was restored. So the feast went on. To the great joy of Felipe, Maria, the subterranean lady, was given back to him; and the two couples lived happily the rest of their lives.
Notes. This story, which is a mixture of well-known motifs and incidents, really falls into two parts, though an attempt is made at the end to bind them together. The first part, ending with the treachery of the brothers after the hero has made his underground journey and rescued the two beautiful maidens from their giant captors, has resemblances to parts of the "Bear's Son" cycle. The second half of the story is a well-developed member of the "Forgotten Betrothed" cycle, preserving, in fact, all the characteristic incidents, and also prefacing to this whole section details that form a transition between it and part 1. I am unable to point out any European parallels to the story as a whole, but analogues of both parts are very numerous. As the latter half constitutes the major portion of our story, we shall consider it first. The fundamental and characteristic incidents of the "Forgotten Betrothed" cycle (sometimes called the "True Bride" cycle) are as follows:-- A The performance by the hero of difficult tasks through the help of the loved one, who is usually the daughter of a magician. B The magic flight of the couple, either with transformations of themselves or with the casting behind them of obstacles to retard the pursuer. C The forgetting of the bride by the hero because he breaks a taboo (the cause of the forgetting is usually a parental kiss, which the hero should have avoided). D The re-awakened memory of the hero during his marriage ceremony or wedding feast with a new bride, either through the conversation of the true bride with an animal or through the true bride's kiss. In some forms of the story, the hero's memory is restored on the third of three nights sold to the heroine by the venial second bride. [62] E The marriage of the hero and heroine. Andrew Lang (Custom and Myth, 2d ed., 87-102) traces incidents A and B as far back as the myth of Jason, the earliest literary reference to which is in the Iliad (vii, 467; XXIII, 747). But this story does not contain the last three incidents: clearly they have come from some other source, and have been joined to the first two,--a natural process in the development of a folk-tale. The episode of the magic flight is very widely distributed: Lang mentions Zulu, Gaelic, Norse, Malagasy, Russian, Italian, and Japanese versions. Of the magic flight combined with the performance of difficult tasks set by the girl's father, the stories are no less widely scattered: Greece, Madagascar, Scotland, Russia, Italy, North America (Algonquins), Finland, Samoa (p. 94). The only reasonable explanation of these resemblances, according to Lang, is the theory of transmission; and if Mr. Lang, the champion of the "anthropological theory," must needs explain in this rather business-like way a comparatively simple tale, what but the transmission theory can explain far more complicated stories of five or six distinct incidents in the same sequence? The "Forgotten Betrothed" cycle was clearly invented but once; when or where, we shall not attempt to say. But that its excellent combination of rapid, marvellous, and pathetic situations has made it a tale of almost universal appeal, is attested to by the scores of variants that have been collected within the last half-century and more. In his notes to Campbell's Gaelic story, "The Battle of the Birds," No. 2, Köhler cites Norwegian, Swedish, Italian, German, and Hungarian versions (Orient und Occident, 2 : 107). Ralston (pp. 132-133), Cosquin (2 : No. 32 and notes), Crane (No. XV and notes, pp. 343-344), Bolte (in his additions to Köhler, 1 : 170-174), and Bolte-Polívka (to Nos. 51, 56, 113) have added very full bibliographies. It is unnecessary here to list all the variants of this story that have been collected, but we will examine some of the analogues to our tale from the point of view of the separate incidents. After the hero of our present story has been deserted by his treacherous brothers, and has found himself once more in the under-world, he is told by a mysterious voice to go to the Land of the Pilgrims, where he will find his fate. He meets an old man, who directs him to a hermit. The hermit, in turn, directs the youth to another hermit, who learns from an eagle where the Land of the Pilgrims is, and directs the bird to carry the youth thither. While the story does not state that the Land of the Pilgrims is on the "upper-world," we must suppose that it is, and that the eagle is the means whereby the hero escapes from the underground kingdom. In a large number of members of the "Bear's Son" cycle, to which, as has been said, the first part of our story belongs, this is the usual means of escape. The incident is also found in a large number of tales not connected otherwise with this group (see Cosquin, 2 : 141-144). It is sometimes combined with the quest for the water of life, with which in turn is connected the situation of the hero's being referred from one guide to another (giants, sages, hermits, etc.), as in our story (cf. Grimm, No. 97, and notes; also Bolte-Polívka to No. 97, especially 2 : 400; Thorpe, 158; Tawney, 1 : 206; Persian Tales, 2 : 171). This whole section appears to have been introduced as a transition between parts 1 and 2. The second part of our story opens with the "bride-wager" incident (see Von Hahn, 1 : 54, "Oenomaosformel"), though I can point to no parallel of Juan's method of making love to the princess; that is, by means of a letter conveyed by a kite. The tasks which the hero is obliged to perform vary greatly in the different members of the "Forgotten Betrothed" cycle. Juan has to plant wheat and bake bread from the ripened grain in twenty-four hours, separate a jar of mongo from a jar of sand, and fetch a ring from the sea. The first task imposed by the king has analogies in a number of European tales. In Groome's No. 34 the Devil says to the hero, "Here is one more task for you: drain the marsh, and plough it, and sow it, and to-morrow bring me roasted maize" (p. 106). In Groome's No. 7 the king says to the old man, "See this great forest! Fell it all, and make it a level field; and plough it for me, and break up all the earth; and sow it with millet by to-morrow morning. And mark well what I tell you: you must bring me a cake [made from the ripened millet-seed, clearly; see p. 23] made with sweet milk." Cosquin (2 : 24) cites a Catalan and a Basque story in which the hero has not only to fell a great forest, but to sow grain and harvest it. In kind this is the same sort of impossible task imposed on Truth in a Visayan story (JAFL 19 : 100-102), where the hero has to beget, and the princess his wife to bring forth, in one night, three children. Helpful eagles solve this difficulty for Truth by conveying to him three newly-born babes. The second task is a well-known one, and is found in many members of the "Grateful Animals" cycle. Usually it is ants, which the hero has earlier spared, that perform the service of separating two kinds of seed, etc. (see Tawney, 1 : 361 and note). The mixture of sand and mongo, in our story, is not a very happy conception. Originally it must have been either gravel and mongo, or else mongo and some other kind of lentil nearly resembling it in size. The third task, with the method of accomplishing it, is perhaps the most interesting of all. In a Samoan story of the "Forgotten Betrothed" cycle (Lang, op. cit., p. 98), the heroine bids the hero cut her body into pieces and cast them into the sea. There she becomes a fish and recovers the ring. In a Catalan tale (Rondallayre, 1 : 41) the hero is also required to fetch a ring from the bottom of the sea. His loved one tells him to cut her to pieces, taking care not to let any part drop to the ground, and to throw all into the water. In spite of all his care, he lets fall to earth one drop of blood. The heroine recovers the ring, but lacks the first joint of her little finger when she resumes her original shape. The "magic flight" is discussed by Cosquin (1 : 152-154) and Macculloch (167 ff.). Two kinds of transformation are to be noted in connection with this escape: the pursued either transform themselves, and thus escape detection by the pursuer, or else cast behind them magic objects, which turn into retarding and finally insurmountable obstacles in the path of the pursuer. In our story the transformations are of the second type, as they are in the story of "Pedro and the Witch" (No. 36). So far as I know, the first type does not occur in Filipino folk-tales. Both types are found frequently in Occidental Märchen, but in Oriental stories the second seems to predominate over the first (see Cosquin's citations of Oriental occurrences of this incident). In Somadeva (Tawney, 1 : 355 ff.) we have two flights and both types of escape. As to the details of the flight itself in our story, we may note that the comb becoming a thicket of thorns has many analogues. The ring becoming seven mountains suggests with its magic number an Oriental origin. With spittle turning into a lake or sea, compare similar transformations of drops of water and a bladder full of water (Macculloch, 171-172). The incident of the "forgetting of the betrothed" is usually motivated with some sort of broken taboo. When the hero desires to visit his parents, and leaves his sweetheart outside the city, she usually warns him not to allow himself to be kissed. In a Gaelic Märchen he is forbidden to speak; sometimes he is warned by his wife not to eat, etc. (Köhler-Bolte, 172). In our story the taboo is somewhat unusual: the hero is to allow no tears of joy shed by his parents to fall on his cheeks. The idea behind this charge, however, is the same as that behind the forbidden kiss. With the taboo forbidding the partaking of food, compare the episode of the "Lotus-Eaters" in the Odyssey. In most of the Märchen of this group the re-awakening of the memory of the hero is accomplished through the conversation of two birds (doves or hens) which the forgotten betrothed manages to introduce into the presence of her lover just before he is married to another (Köhler-Bolte, 172; Rittershaus, 150). In our story the heroine asks a dog questions about the tasks she had helped the hero perform. I can point to no exact parallel of this situation, though it agrees in general with the methods used in the other members of the group.
In connection with our story as a whole, I will cite in conclusion two native metrical romances that preserve many of the incidents we have been discussing. The first is a Pangasinan romance (of which I have not the text) entitled "Don Agustin, Don Pedro, and Don Juan." This story contains the pursuit by the three princes of a snake to cure the sick king their father (the "quest" motif), the descent into the well by the youngest brother, his fight with monsters in the underworld and his rescue of three princesses, the treachery of the older brothers, the final rescue of the hero by the youngest princess. While this story lacks the "forgotten-betrothed" motif, it is unquestionably related with the first part of our folk-tale, [63] The second romance, which is one of the most popular and widespread in the Islands, having been printed in at least five of the dialects,--Tagalog, Pampango, Visayan, Ilocano, and Bicol,--I will synopsize briefly, because it is either the source of our folk-tale or has been derived from it. The fact that not all the literary versions agree entirely, and that the story as a folk-tale seems to be so universally known, makes it seem more likely that the second alternative expresses the truth; i.e., that the romance has been derived from the folk-tale. In the Tagalog version the title runs thus: "The Story of Three Princes, sons of King Fernando and Queen Valeriana in the Kingdom of Berbania. The Adarna Bird." The poem is long, containing 4136 octosyllabic lines. The date of my copy is 1906; but Retana mentions an edition before 1898 (No. 4169). Briefly the story runs as follows:-- King Fernando of Berbania has three sons,--Diego, Pedro, and Juan. One night the king dreams that Juan was killed by robbers. He immediately becomes sick, and a skilful physician tells him that the magic Adarna bird is the only thing that can cure his illness. Diego sets out to find the bird, but is unsuccessful; he is turned to stone. A year later Pedro sets out--meets the same fate. At last Juan goes, seeing that his brothers do not return. Because of his charity a leper directs the youth to a hermit's house. The hermit tells Juan how to avoid the enchantment, secure the bird, and liberate his brothers. Juan successful. On the return, however, the envious brothers beat Juan senseless, and, taking the bird from him, make their way back to their father's kingdom alone. But the bird becomes very ugly in appearance, refuses to sing, and the king grows worse. Juan, meantime, is restored by an angel sent from heaven. He finally reaches home; and the Adarna bird immediately becomes beautiful again, and sings of the treachery of Diego and Pedro. The king, recovered, wishes to banish his two older sons; but Juan pleads for them, and they are restored to favor. The king now charges his three sons with the safe-keeping of the bird, threatening with death the one who lets it fly away. One night, while Juan is on watch, he falls asleep. His envious brothers open the cage, and the bird escapes. When Juan awakens and sees the mischief done, he leaves home to look for the Adarna. Next day the king, missing both Juan and the bird, sends Pedro and Diego in search of their brother. They find him in the mountains of Armenia. In their joint search for the bird, the three come to a deep well. Diego and Pedro try in turn to go down, but fear to make the descent to the bottom. Juan is then lowered. At the foot of the well he finds beautiful fields. In his wanderings he comes to a large house where a princess is looking out of the window. She tells Juan that she is in the power of a giant; and so, when the monster returns, Juan kills it. He likewise liberates her sister Leonora, who is in the power of a seven-headed snake. All three--Juan and the two princesses--are hoisted to the top of the well; but when Juan starts back for a ring that Leonora has forgotten, his cruel brothers cut the rope. Leonora sends her pet wolf to cure Juan, and the two brothers with the two princesses return to Berbania. Juana is married to Diego; but Leonora refuses to marry Pedro, asking for a seven-year respite to wait for Juan's return. Meantime Juan has been restored. One day the Adarna bird appears, and sings over his head that there are three beautiful princesses in the kingdom "de los Cristales." Juan sets out to find that place. He meets an old man, who gives him a piece of his shirt and tells him to go to a certain hermit for directions. The hermit receives Juan on presentation of the token, and summons all the animals to question them about the kingdom "de los Cristales;" but none of the animals knows where the kingdom is. This hermit now directs Juan to another hermitage. There the holy man summons all the birds. One eagle knows where it is; and after Juan gets on its back, the eagle flies for a month, and finally reaches the kingdom sought. There, in accordance with the bird's directions, while the princesses are bathing, Juan steals the clothes of the youngest, and will not return them until she promises to marry him. She agrees, and later helps him perform the difficult tasks set him by her enchanter father (levelling mountain, planting wheat, newly-baked bread--recovering flask from sea--removing mountain--recovering ring from sea [same method as in our folk-tale]--catching king's horse). Then the two escape, pursued by the magician. Transformation flight (needle, thorns; piece of soap, mountain; withe [? coje], lake). The baffled magician curses his daughter, and says that she will be forgotten by Juan. When Juan reaches home and sees Leonora, he forgets Maria. On his wedding day with Leonora, an unknown princess comes to attend the festivities. From a small bottle which she has she produces a small Negress and Negro, who dance before the young bridal couple. After each dance the Negress addresses Juan, and recounts to him what Maria has done for him. Then she beats the Negro, but Juan feels the blows. Finally, since Juan remains inflexible, Maria threatens to dash to pieces the bottle, which contains Juan's life. Juan consents to marry her; but Leonora protests, saying that her wolf saved Juan's life. Archbishop called to arbitrate the matter, decides in favor of Leonora. When Maria now floods the country and threatens the whole kingdom with destruction, King Fernando persuades Leonora to take his oldest son Pedro. Juan and Maria are married, and return to the kingdom "de los Cristales."
For a Tagalog folk-tale connected with this romance, but changed so that it is hardly recognizable as a relative, see the story of "The Adorna (sic) Bird" (JAFL 20 : 107-108). It is interesting to note that the Tagalog romance is definitely reminiscent of the "Swan Maidens" cycle in the method Juan uses to win the affections of Maria, the enchanter's daughter. For parallels to Juan's trick of stealing Maria's clothes while she and her sisters are bathing, see Macculloch, 342 f. For a large collection of "Swan Maiden" stories in abstract, see Hartland, chapters X and XI. Considering the fact that both parts of our story are practically world-wide in their distribution, it is almost impossible to say where and when the two in combination first existed. I am inclined to think, on the whole, that our Filipino folk-tale is an importation, and is not native. As to the relationship between the popular and the literary versions of the story, I believe that in general the literary has been derived from the popular.
FOOTNOTES [59] Chupa, a measure, equal roughly to about four handfuls of raw rice. [60] Camotes, sweet potatoes. [61] Mongo, a variety of legume slightly smaller than the lentil (same as mungo). [62] This episode is found in a Tagalog folk-tale collected by Gardner (JAFL 20 : 304). This folk-tale, it might be noted, is based directly on a corrido, The Story of the Life of Doña Maria of Murcia, Manila, 1909. The romance has been printed in Pampango and Tagalog. Retana (No. 4166) mentions an edition between 1860 and 1898, and one dated 1901 (No. 4307). [63] I have the text and a complete English paraphrase of a Tagalog metrical romance which combines incidents from this story with incidents from "The Adarna Bird" (supra). The romance is entitled "The Story of the Life of King Don Luis, his Three Sons, and Queen Mora. Manila 1906." Retana (Nos. 4190, 4362) cites editions 1860-98 and 1902. This story contains the quest for the water of healing, the two hermits, the flight on the eagle's back, the sleeping enchanted queen, the stolen favor and the theft of the slipper, the ransoming of the two older brothers, their treachery, the hero disguised as servant in his father's palace, the invasion by the magic queen and her recovery of her lover the hero. This story is closely related to Groome No. 55. Compare also Groome's summary of Vernaleken's Austrian story of the "Accursed Garden" (p. 232), which in some respects resembles this Filipino romance more closely than does the Gypsy tale. [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |