{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/celt/tfm/tfm167.htm","path":"neu/celt/tfm/tfm167.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/tfm/tfm167.htm","text":"LORD NANN AND THE KORRIGAN\nThe Lord Nann and his bride so fair \nIn early youth united were,\nIn early youth divided were.\nThe lady lay-in yesternight \nOf twins, their skin as snow was white,\nA boy and girl, that glad his sight.\n\"What doth thy heart desire, loved one, \nFor giving me so fair a son?\nSay, and at once it shall be done.\n\"A woodcock from the pool of the glyn, \nOr roebuck from the forest green?\n\"The roebuck's flesh is savoury,\nBut for it thou to the wood should'st hie.\"\nLord Nann when he these words did hear, \nHe forthwith grasped his oaken spear,\nAnd vaulting on his coal-black steed\nUnto the green-wood hied with speed.\nWhen he unto the wood drew nigh,\nA fair white doe he there did spy,\nAnd after her such chase he made,\nThe ground it shook beneath their tread.\nAnd after her such chase made he,\nFrom his brows the water copiously\nAnd from his horse's sides ran down. \nThe evening had now come on,\nAnd he came where a streamlet flowed \nFast by a Korrigan's abode;\nAnd grassy turf spread all around.\nTo quench his thirst he sprang to ground.\nThe Korrig at her fount sat there\nA-combing of her long fair hair.\nShe combed it with a comb of gold--\nThese ladies ne'er are poor, we 're told.\n\"Rash man,\" cried she, \"how dost thou dare \nTo come disturb my waters fair!\n\"Thou shalt unto me plight thy fay, \nOr seven years thou shalt waste away,\nOr thou shalt die ere the third day.\"\n\"To thee my faith plight will I ne'er, \nFor I am married now a year.\n\"I shall not surely waste away, \nNor shall I die ere the third day;\n\"I shall not die within three days, \nBut when it unto God shall please.\"--\n\"Good mother, mine, if you love me, \nSee that my bed made ready be,\nFor I have ta'en a malady.\n\"Let not one word to my wife be told; \nIn three days I shall lie in the mould,\nA Korrigan has thus foretold.\"\nAnd when three days were past and gone, \nThe young wife asked this question,--\n\"My mother-in-law, now tell me why \nThe bells all ring thus constantly?\n\"And why the priests a low mass sing, \nAll clad in white, as the bells ring?\"\n\"Last night a poor man died whom we \nA lodging gave through charity.\"\n\"My mother-in-law, tell me, I pray, \nMy Lord Nann whither is he gone away?\"\n\"My daughter, to the town he 'a gone, \nTo see thee he will come anon.\"\n\"Good mother-in-law, to church to fare, \nShall I my red or blue gown wear?\"\n\"The custom now is, daughter dear, \nAt church always in black to appear.\"\nAs they crossed o'er the churchyard-wall, \nOn her husband's grave her eye did fall.\n\"Who is now dead of our family,\nThat thus fresh dug our ground I see?\"\n\"Alas! my child, the truth can l\nNot hide: thy husband there doth lie.\"\nOn her two knees herself she cast\nAnd rose no more, she breathed her last.\nIt was a marvel to see, men say, \nThe night that followed the day,\nThe lady in earth by her lord lay,\nTo see two oak-trees themselves rear\nFrom the new-made grave into the air;\nAnd on their branches two doves white,\nWho there were hopping gay and light;\nWhich sang when rose the morning-ray\nAnd then toward heaven sped away.\nThis ballad is very remarkable. Its similarity to that of Sir Olaf, so celebrated in Scandinavia, and of which we have already given two variations out of fifteen, must strike every one; in its concluding stanzas also it resembles other Scandinavian and English ballads. On the other hand, the White Doe and the Korrigan at the fount remind us of the Lais of Marie de France. Our opinion on the whole is, that the ballad belongs to Scandinavia, whence it was brought at an early period--by the Normans, we might say only for its Christian air in both countries--and naturalised in the usual manner. It is rather strange that there is neither an English nor a Scottish version of it.\nThe next lay, which is entirely composed in tercets, is the story of a changeling. In order to recover her own child the mother is advised by the Virgin, to whom she has prayed, to prepare a meal for ten farm-servants in an eggshell, which will make the Korrid speak, and she is then to whip him well till he cries, and when he does so he will be taken away. The woman does as directed: the Korr asks what she is about: she tells him: \"For ten, dear mother, in an eggshell! I have seen the egg before I saw the white hen: I have seen the acorn before I saw the tree: I have seen the acorn and I have seen the shoot: I have seen the oak in the wood of Br\u00e9zal, but never saw I such a thing as this.\" \"Thou hast seen too many things, my son,\" replied she, and began to whip him, when one came crying, \"Don't beat him, give him back to me; I have not done yours any injury. He is king in our country.\" When the woman went home she found her own child sleeping sweetly in the cradle. He opened his eyes and said, \"Ah! mother, I have been a long time asleep!\"\nAmong the Welsh legends above related, that of the Fairies Banished has some resemblance to this; but M. Villemarqu\u00e9 says that he was told a changeling-story by the Glamorgan peasantry, precisely the same as the Breton legend. In it the changeling is heard muttering to himself in a cracked voice, \"I have seen the acorn before I saw the oak: I have seen the egg before I saw the white hen: I have never seen the like of this.\" It is remarkable that these words form a rimed triad or tercet nearly the same with that in the Breton ballad, [a] whence M. Villemarqu\u00e9 is led to suspect that the legend is anterior to the seventh century, the epoch of the separation of the Britons of Wales and Armorica. But as changelings seem to have come from the North, we cannot consent to receive this theory. He also quotes from Geoffrey of Monmouth's Life of Merlin, \"There is in this forest,\" said Merlin the Wild, \"an oak laden with years: I saw it when it was beginning to grow... I saw the acorn whence it rose, germinate and become a twig... I have then lived a long time.\" This would, in our opinion, tend to show that this was an ordinary formula in the British language.\nThe third, and last of those ballads tells, and not without humour, how Paskou-Hir, i. e., Long-Paskou, the tailor, one Friday evening, entered the abode of the Korred, and there dug up and carried, home a concealed treasure. They pursued him, and came into the court-yard dancing with might and main, and singing,--\nDilun, dimeurs, dimerc'her\nHa diriaou, ha digwoner.\nMonday, Tuesday, Wednesday,\nAnd Thursday, and Friday.\nFunding the door secured [b] they mount the roof and break a hole through which they get in, and resume their dance on the floor, still singing, Monday, Tuesday, etc., and calling on the tailor to come and. join them and they would teach him a dance that would crack his back-bone, and they end by telling him that the money of the Korr is good for nothing.\nAnother version says, that it was a baker who stole the treasure, and, more cunning than the tailor, be strewed the floor of his house with hot ashes and cinders on which the Korred burned their feet. This made them scamper off, but before they went they smashed all his crockery and earthenware. Their words were, \"In Iannik-ann-Trevou's house we burnt our horny feet and made a fine mess of his crockery.\"\nThe following legend will explain the song of the Korred.\n[a]\nWelsh\nGweliz mez ken gwelet derven,\nGweliz vi ken gwelet iar wenn,\nErioez ne williz evelhenn.\nBreton\nGweliz vi ken guelot iar wenn,\nGweliz mez ken gwelet gwezen.\nGweliz mez ha gweliz gwial,\nGweliz derven e Koat Brezal,\nBiskoaz na weliz kemend all.\n[b] The tailor cries \"Shut the door! Here are the little Duz of the night\" (Setu ann Duizigou nouz), and St. Augustine (De Civ. Dei, c. xxiii.) speaks of \"Daemones quos Duscios Galli nuncupant.\" It may remind us of our own word Deuce.","title":"The Fairy Mythology: Celts and Cymry: Lord Nann and the K...","type":"page"}