"Otherwise I thought and fancied, Wished it different, all my lifetime, Thought to go as goes the cuckoo, Crying 'Cuckoo' from the hill-tops, Now the day I have attained to, Come the time that I had wished for; But I go not like the cuckoo, Crying 'Cuckoo' from the hill-tops, 410 More as duck amid the billows, On the wide bay's open waters, Swimming in the freezing water, Shivering in the icy water.

"Woe, my father and my mother, Woe, alas, my aged parents! Whither would you now dismiss me, Drive a wretched maid to sorrow, Make me thus to weep for sorrow, Overburdened thus with trouble, 420 With distress so heavy-burdened, And with care so overloaded?

"Better, O unhappy mother, Better, dearest who hast borne me. O thou dear one, who hast suckled, Nurtured me throughout my lifetime, Hadst thou swaddled up a tree-stump, And hadst bathed a little pebble, Rather than have washed thy daughter, And have swaddled up thy darling, 430 For this time of great affliction, And of this so grievous sorrow.

"Many speak unto me elsewise, Many counsel me in thiswise: 'Do not, fool, give way to sorrow, Let not gloomy thoughts oppress thee.' Do not, O ye noble people, Do not speak to me in thiswise! Far more troubles weigh upon me, Than in a cascade are pebbles, 440 Than in swampy ground the willows, Or the heath upon the marshland. Never can a horse pull forward, And a shod horse struggle onward, And the sledge sway not behind him, And the collar shall not tremble. Even thus I feel my trouble, And oppressed by dark forebodings."

From the floor there sang an infant, From the hearth a growing infant. 450 "Wherefore dost thou weep, O maiden, Yielding to such grievous sorrow? Cast thy troubles to the horses, Sorrow to the sable gelding. Leave complaints to mouths of iron, Lamentations to the thick-heads, Better heads indeed have horses, Better heads, and bones much harder, For their arching necks are firmer, All their frame is greatly stronger. 460

"No, thou hast no cause for weeping, Nor to yield to grievous sorrow; To the marsh they do not lead thee, Push thee not into the ditches. Leavest thou these fertile cornfields, Yet to richer fields thou goest, Though they take thee from the brewery, 'Tis to where the ale's abundant.

"If around thee now thou gazest, Just beside thee where thou standest, 470 There thy bridegroom stands to guard thee, By thy side thy ruddy husband. Good thy husband, good his horses, All things needful fill his cellars, And the grouse are loudly chirping, On the sledge, as glides it onwards, And the thrushes make rejoicing, As they sing upon the traces, And six golden cuckoos likewise Flutter on the horse's collar, 480 Seven blue birds are also perching, On the sledge's frame, and singing.

"Do not yield thee thus to trouble, O thou darling of thy mother! For no evil fate awaits thee, But in better case thou comest, Sitting by thy farmer husband, Underneath the ploughman's mantle, 'Neath the chin of the bread-winner, In the arms of skilful fisher, 490 Warm from chasing elk on snowshoes, And from bathing after bear-hunt.

"Thou hast found the best of husbands, And hast won a mighty hero, For his bow is never idle, Neither on the pegs his quivers; And the dogs in house he leaves not, Nor in hay lets rest the puppies.

"Three times in this spring already, In the earliest hours of morning, 500 Has he stood before the fire, Rising from his couch of bushes; Three times in this spring already On his eyes the dew has fallen, And the shoots of pine-trees combed him, And the branches brushed against him.

"All his people he exhorted, To increase his flocks in number, For indeed the bridegroom owneth Flocks that wander through the birchwoods, 510 Tramp their way among the sandhills, Seek for pasture in the valleys; Hundreds of the horned cattle, Thousands with their well-filled udders; On the plains are stacks in plenty, In the valley crops abundant, Alder-woods for cornland suited, Meadows where the barley's springing, Stony land for oats that's suited, Watered regions, fit for wheatfields. 520 All rich gifts in peace await thee, Pennies plentiful as pebbles."



RUNO XXIII.—THE INSTRUCTING OF THE BRIDE

Argument

The bride is instructed and directed how to conduct herself in her husband's house (1-478). An old vagrant woman relates the experiences of her life as a daughter, as a wife, and after her separation from her husband (479-850).

Now the girl must be instructed, And the bride be taught her duty, Who shall now instruct the maiden, And shall teach the girl her duty? Osmotar, experienced woman, Kaleva's most beauteous maiden; She shall give the maid instruction, And shall teach the unprotected How to bear herself with prudence, And with wisdom to conduct her, 10 In her husband's house with prudence, To his mother most obedient.

So she spoke the words which follow, And in terms like these addressed her: "O thou bride, my dearest sister, Thou my darling, best-beloved, Listen now to what I tell thee, For a second time repeated. Now thou goest, a flower transplanted, Like a strawberry forward creeping, 20 Whisked, like shred of cloth, to distance, Satin-robed, to distance hurried, From thy home, renowned so greatly, From thy dwelling-place so beauteous. To another home thou comest, To a stranger household goest; In another house 'tis different; Otherwise in strangers' houses. Walk thou there with circumspection, And prepare thy duties wisely 30 Not as on thy father's acres, Or the lands of thine own mother. Where they sing among the valleys, And upon the pathways shouting.

"When from out this house thou goest, All thy doings must be different; Three things leave at home behind thee, Sleep indulged in in the daytime, Counsels of thy dearest mother, And fresh butter from the barrels. 40

"All thy thoughts must now be altered; Leave thy sleepiness behind thee, Leave it for the household maiden, By the stove so idly sitting. To the bench-end cast thy singing, Joyous carols to the windows, Girlish ways unto the bath-whisks, And thy pranks to blanket-edges, Naughtinesses to the stove-bench, On the floor thy lazy habits, 50 Or renounce them to thy bridesmaid, And into her arms unload them, That she take them to the bushes, Out upon the heath convey them.

"Other habits wait thy learning, And the old must be forgotten. Father's love you leave behind you; Learn to love thy husband's father; Deeper now must thou incline thee, Fitting language must thou utter. 60

"Other habits wait thy learning, And the old must be forgotten. Mother's love thou leav'st behind thee; Learn to love thy husband's mother. Deeper now must thou incline thee; Fitting language must thou utter.

"Other habits wait thy learning, And the old must be forgotten. Brother's love thou leav'st behind thee; Learn to love thy husband's brother; 70 Deeper now must thou incline thee; Fitting language must thou utter.

"Other habits wait thy learning, And the old must be forgotten. Sister's love thou leav'st behind thee, Learn to love thy husband's sister. Deeper now must thou incline thee, Fitting language must thou utter.

"Never may'st thou in thy lifetime, While the golden moon is shining, 80 Seek a house of doubtful morals, With the worthless men consorting, For a house must needs be moral, And a house must needs be noble, And for sense a husband wishes, And desires the best behaviour. Heedfulness will much be needed In a house of doubtful morals; Steadiness will much be wanting In a man's of doubtful morals. 90

"Is the old man a wolf in corner, By the hearth the crone a she-bear, Brother-in-law on step a viper, In the yard like nail the sister, Equal honour must thou give them, Deeper must thou then incline thee, Than thou bowed before thy mother, In the house of thine own father, Than thou bowed before thy father, Or before thy dearest mother. 100

"Thou wilt always need in future Ready wit and clear perception, And thy thoughts must all be prudent, Firmly fixed thy understanding, Eyes of keenness in the evening, That the fire is always brilliant, Ears of sharpness in the morning, Thus to listen for the cockcrow. If the cockcrow once has sounded, Though the second has not sounded, 110 It becomes the young to rouse them, Though the old folk still are resting.

"If the cock should not be crowing, Nor the master's bird be crowing, Let the moon for cockcrow serve thee, Take the Great Bear for thy guidance. Often thou should'st seek the open, Often go the moon to gaze on, From the Great Bear seek instruction, And the distant stars to gaze on. 120

"If you see the Great Bear clearly, With his front to south directed, And his tail extending northward, Then 'tis time for thee to rouse thee From the side of thy young husband, Leaving him asleep and ruddy, Fire to seek among the ashes Seeking for a spark in firebox, Blowing then the fire discreetly, That from carelessness it spread not. 130

"If no fire is in the ashes, And no spark is in the firebox, Coax thou then thy dearest husband, And cajole thy handsome husband: 'Light me now the fire, my dearest, Just a spark, my darling berry!'

"If you have a flint, a small one, And a little piece of tinder, Strike a light as quick as may be, Light the pine-chip in the holder, 140 Then go out to clear the cowshed, And the cattle do thou fodder, For the mother's cow is lowing, And the father's horse is neighing, And her chain the son's cow rattles, And the daughter's calf is lowing, That the soft hay should be thrown them, And the clover laid before them.

"Go thou stooping on the pathway, Bend thou down among the cattle, 150 Gently give the cows their fodder, Give the sheep their food in quiet, Spread it straight before the cattle, Drink unto the calves so helpless, To the foals give straw well-chosen, To the lambkins hay the softest, See that on the swine thou tread'st not, Nor the hogs with foot thou spurnest, Take thou to the swine the food-trough, Set before the hogs the food-tray. 160

"Do not rest thee in the cowshed, Do not loiter with the sheep-flock; When thou'st visited the cowshed, And hast looked to all the cattle, Do thou quickly hasten homeward, Home returning like a blizzard, For the baby there is crying, Crying underneath the blanket, And the poor child still is speechless, And its tongue no words can utter, 170 Whether it is cold or hungry, Or if something else annoys it, Ere its well-known friend is coming, And the mother's voice it heareth.

"When into the room thou comest, Come thou fourth into the chamber; In thy hand a water-bucket, Underneath thy arm a besom, And between thy teeth a pine-chip; Thou art then the fourth among them. 180

"Sweep thou then the floor to cleanness, Sweep thou carefully the planking, And upon the floor pour water, Not upon the heads of babies. If you see a child there lying, Though thy sister-in-law's the infant, Up upon the bench then lift it, Wash its eyes, and smooth its hair down, Put some bread into its handies, And upon the bread spread butter, 190 But if bread perchance be wanting, Put a chip into its handies.

"Then the tables must be scoured, At the week-end at the latest; Wash them, and the sides remember, Let the legs be not forgotten; Then the benches wash with water, Sweep thou too the walls to cleanness, And the boards of all the benches, And the walls with all their corners. 200

"If there's dust upon the tables, Or there's dust upon the windows, Dust them carefully with feathers, Wipe them with a wetted duster, That the dust should not be scattered, Nor should settle on the ceiling.

"From the stove scrape all the rust off, From the ceiling wipe the soot off, And the ceiling-props remember, Nor should'st thou forget the rafters, 210 That the house be all in order, And a fitting place to live in.

"Hear, O maiden, what I tell thee, What I says and what I tell thee, Do not go without thy clothing, Nor without thy shift disport thee, Move about without thy linen, Or without thy shoes go shuffling: Greatly shocked would be thy bridegroom, And thy youthful husband grumble. 220

"In the yard there grows a rowan, Thou with reverent care should'st tend it, Holy is the tree there growing, Holy likewise are its branches, On its boughs the leaves are holy, And its berries yet more holy, For a damsel may discover, And an orphan thence learn teaching, How to please her youthful husband, To her bridegroom's heart draw nearer. 230

"Let thy ears be keen as mouse-ears, Let thy feet as hare's be rapid, And thy young neck proudly arching, And thy fair neck proudly bending, Like the juniper uprising, Or the cherry's verdant summit.

"Likewise hold thyself discreetly, Always ponder and consider; Never venture thou to rest thee On the bench at length extended, 240 Nor upon thy bed to rest thee, There to yield thee to thy slumbers.

"Comes the brother from his ploughing, Or the father from the storehouse, Or thy husband from his labour, He, thy fair one, from the clearing, Haste to fetch the water-basin, Hasten thou to bring a towel, Bowing with respect before them, Speaking words of fond affection. 250

"Comes the mother from the storehouse, In her arms the flour-filled basket, Run across the yard to meet her, Bowing with respect before her, Take thou from her hands the basket, Quickly to the house to bear it.

"If you do not know your duty, Do not comprehend it fully, What the work that waits the doing, Where you should begin your labours, 260 Ask the old crone then in thiswise: 'O my mother-in-law beloved, How is this work to be managed, And arranged these household matters?'

"And the old crone thus will answer, And your mother-in-law will tell you: 'Thus this work is to be managed, And arranged these household matters, Pounding thus, and grinding thiswise, And the handmill quickly turning. 270 Likewise do thou fetch the water, That the dough be fitly kneaded, Carry logs into the bakehouse, And the oven heat thou fully, Set thou then the loaves for baking, And the large cakes bake thou likewise, Wash thou then the plates and dishes, Likewise washing clean the meal-tubs.'

"When thy work she thus has told thee, And thy mother-in-law has taught thee, 280 From the stones the parched corn taking, Hasten to the room for grinding; But when you at length have reached it, And the room for grinding entered, Do not carol as thou goest, Do not shout thy very loudest, Leave it to the stones to carol, Talking through the handmill's opening, Neither do thou groan too loudly, Let the handmill groan unto thee; 290 Lest thy father-in-law should fancy Or thy mother-in-law imagine That with discontent thou groanest, And art sighing from vexation. Lift the meal, and sift it quickly, To the room in dish convey it, Bake thou there the loaves with pleasure, After thou with care hast kneaded, That the flour becomes not lumpy, But throughout is mixed most smoothly. 300

"If you see the bucket leaning, Take the bucket on your shoulder, On your arm the water-bucket. Go thou then to fetch the water. Carry thou the bucket nicely, On the yoke-end do thou fix it, Like the wind returning quickly, Like the wind of springtime rushing, By the water do not linger, By the well forbear to rest thee, 310 Lest thy father-in-law should fancy, Or thy mother-in-law imagine That you wished to see your likeness, And your beauty to admire, Rosy cheeks in water painted, In the well your charms reflected.

"When you wander to the wood-pile, Wander there to fetch the faggots, Do not split them up at random, Take some faggots of the aspen, 320 Lift thou up the faggots gently, Make as little noise as may be, Lest thy father-in-law should fancy, Or thy mother-in-law imagine, That you pitch them down in crossness, And in temper make them clatter.

"When you wander to the storehouse, Thither go to fetch the flour, Do not linger in the storehouse, Do not long remain within it, 330 Lest thy father-in-law should fancy, Or thy mother-in-law imagine, You were doling out the flour, Sharing with the village women.

"When you go to wash the dishes, And the pots and pans to scour, Wash the jugs and wash the handles, And the rims of mugs for drinking, Sides of cups with circumspection, Handles of the spoons remembering, 340 Mind thou, too, the spoons and count them, Look thou to the dishes also, Lest the dogs should steal them from you, Or the cats should take them from you, Or the birds away should take them, Or the children should upset them: For the village swarms with children, Many little heads thou findest, Who might carry off the dishes, And the spoons about might scatter. 350

"When the evening bath is wanted, Fetch the water and the bath-whisks, Have the bath-whisks warm and ready, Fill thou full with steam the bathroom. Do not take too long about it, Do not loiter in the bathroom, Lest thy father-in-law should fancy, Or thy mother-in-law imagine, You were lying on the bath-boards, On the bench your head reclining. 360

"When the room again you enter, Then announce the bath is ready: 'O my father-in-law beloved, Now the bath is fully ready: Water brought, and likewise bath-whisks, All the boards are cleanly scoured. Go and bathe thee at thy pleasure, Wash thou there as it shall please thee, I myself will mind the steaming, Standing underneath the boarding.' 370

"When the time has come for spinning, And the time has come for weaving, In the village seek not counsel, Do not cross the ditch for teaching, Seek it not in other households, Nor the weaver's comb from strangers.

"Spin thyself the yarn thou needest, With thy fingers do thou spin it, Let the yarn be loosely twisted, But the flaxen thread more closely. 380 Closely in a ball then wind it, On the winch securely twist it, Fix it then upon the warp-beam, And upon the loom secure it, Then the shuttle fling thou sharply, But the yarn do thou draw gently. Weave the thickest woollen garments, Woollen gowns construct thou likewise, From a single fleece prepare them, From a winter fleece construct them, 390 From the wool of lamb of springtime, And the fleece of ewe of summer.

"Listen now to what I tell thee, And to what again I tell thee. Thou must brew the ale of barley, From the malt the sweet drink fashion, From a single grain of barley, And by burning half a tree-trunk. When the malt begins to sweeten, Take thou up the malt and taste it. 400 With the rake disturb it never, Do not use a stick to turn it, Always use your hands to stir it, And your open hands to turn it. Go thou often to the malthouse, Do not let the sprout be injured, Let the cat not sit upon it, Or the tomcat sleep upon it. Of the wolves have thou no terror, Fear thou not the forest monsters, 410 When thou goest to the bath-house, Or at midnight forth must wander.

"When a stranger pays a visit, Be not angry with the stranger, For a well-appointed household, Always has for guests provision: Scraps of meat that are not needed, Cakes of bread the very nicest.

"Ask the guest to sit and rest him, With the guest converse in friendship, 420 With thy talk amuse the stranger, Till the dinner shall be ready.

"When the house the stranger's leaving, And he's taking his departure, Do not thou go with the stranger Any further than the housedoor, Lest the husband should be angry, And thy darling should be gloomy.

"If you e'er feel inclination To the village forth to wander, 430 Ask permission ere thou goest, There to gossip with the strangers. In the time that you are absent, Speak thy words with heedful caution, Do not grumble at your household, Nor thy mother-in-law abuse thou.

"If the village girls should ask you, Any of the village women, 'Does your mother-in-law give butter, As at home your mother gave you?' 440 Never do thou make the answer, 'No, she does not give me butter;' Tell thou always that she gives it, Gives it to you by the spoonful, Though 'twas only once in summer, And another time in winter.

"List again to what I tell thee, And again impress upon thee. When at length this house thou leavest, And thou comest to the other, 450 Do thou not forget thy mother, Or despise thy dearest mother, For it was thy mother reared thee, And her beauteous breasts that nursed thee, From her own delightful body, From her form of perfect whiteness. Many nights has she lain sleepless, Many meals has she forgotten, While she rocked thee in thy cradle, Watching fondly o'er her infant. 460

"She who should forget her mother, Or despise her dearest mother, Ne'er to Manala should travel, Nor to Tuonela go cheerful. There in Manala is anguish, Hard in Tuonela the reckoning, If she has forgot her mother, Or despised her dearest mother. Tuoni's daughters come reproaching, Mana's maidens all come mocking: 470 'Why hast thou forgot thy mother, Or despised thy dearest mother? Great the sufferings of thy mother, Great her sufferings when she bore thee, Lying groaning in the bathroom, On a couch of straw extended, When she gave thee thy existence, Giving birth to thee, the vile one!'"

On the ground there sat an old crone, Sat an old dame 'neath her mantle, 480 Wanderer o'er the village threshold, Wanderer through the country's footpaths, And she spoke the words which follow, And in words like these expressed her: "To his mate the cock was singing, Sang the hen's child to his fair one, And in March the crow was croaking, And in days of spring was chattering; Rather let my singing fail me, Let me rather check my singing, 490 Chattering in a house all golden, Always near to one who loves me; But no love nor house is left me, And all love departed from me.

"Hear, O sister, what I tell thee, When thy husband's house thou seekest, Follow not thy husband's notions, As was done by me unhappy. Larks have tongues, and husbands notions; But a lover's heart is greater. 500

"I was as a flower that flourished, As a wild rose in the thicket, And I grew as grows a sapling, Grew into a slender maiden. I was beauteous as a berry, Rustling in its golden beauty; In my father's yard a duckling, On my mother's floor a gosling, Water-bird unto my brother, And a goldfinch to my sister. 510 Flowerlike walked I on the pathway, As upon the plain the raspberry, Skipping on the sandy lakeshore, Dancing on the flower-clad hillocks, Singing loud in every valley, Carolling on every hill-top, Sporting in the leafy forests, In the charming woods rejoicing.

"As the trap the fox-mouth seizes, And the tongue entraps the ermine, 520 Towards a man inclines a maiden, And the ways of other households. So created is the maiden, That the daughter's inclination Leads her married, as step-daughter, As the slave of husband's mother. As a berry grows in marshland, And in other waters, cherry. Like a cranberry sought I sorrow, Like a strawberry exhortation. 530 Every tree appeared to bite me, Every alder seemed to tear me, Every birch appeared to scold me, Every aspen to devour me.

"As my husband's bride they brought me, To my mother-in-law they led me. Here there were, as they had told me, Waiting for the wedded maiden, Six large rooms of pine constructed, And of bedrooms twice as many. 540 Barns along the forest-borders, By the roadside flowery gardens, By the ditches fields of barley, And along the heaths were oatfields, Chests of corn threshed out already, Other chests awaiting threshing, Hundred coins received already, And a hundred more expected.

"Foolishly had I gone thither, Recklessly my hand had given, 550 For six props the house supported, Seven small poles the house supported, And the woods were filled with harshness, And with lovelessness the forests, By the roadsides dreary deserts, In the woodlands thoughts of evil, Chests containing spoilt provisions, Other chests beside them spoiling; And a hundred words reproachful, And a hundred more to look for. 560

"But I let it not distress me, Hoping there to live in quiet, Wishing there to dwell in honour, And a peaceful life to live there; But when first the room I entered, Over chips of wood I stumbled. On the door I knocked my forehead, And my head against the doorposts. At the door were eyes of strangers: Darksome eyes were at the entrance, 570 Squinting eyes in midst of chamber, In the background eyes most evil. From the mouths the fire was flashing, From beneath the tongues shot firebrands, From the old man's mouth malicious, From beneath his tongue unfriendly.

"But I let it not distress me, In the house I dwelt unheeding, Hoping still to live in favour, And I bore myself with meekness, 580 And with legs of hare went skipping, With the step of ermine hurried, Very late to rest retired, Very early rose to suffering. But, unhappy, won no honour, Mildness brought me only sorrow, Had I tossed away the torrents, Or the rocks in twain had cloven.

"Vainly did I grind coarse flour, And with pain I crushed its hardness, 590 That my mother-in-law should eat it, And her ravenous throat devour it, At the table-end while sitting, From a dish with golden borders. But I ate, unhappy daughter, Flour scraped up, to handmill cleaving, With my ladle from the hearthstone, With my spoon from off the pestle.

"Oft I brought, O me unhappy, I, the son's wife, to his dwelling, 600 Mosses from the swampy places, And as bread for me I baked it. Water from the well I carried, And I drank it up in mouthfuls. Fish I ate, O me unhappy, Smelts I ate, O me unhappy, As above the net I leaned me, In the boat as I was swaying, For no fish received I ever From my mother-in-law neglectful, 610 Neither in a day of plenty, Nor a day of double plenty.

"Fodder gathered I in summer, Winter worked I with the pitchfork, Even as a labourer toiling, Even as a hired servant, And my mother-in-law for ever, Evermore for me selected, Worst of all the flails for threshing, Heaviest mallet from the bathroom, 620 From the beach the heaviest mallet, In the stall the largest pitchfork. Never did they think me weary, Nor my weakness e'er considered, Though my work had wearied heroes, Or the strength of foals exhausted.

"Thus did I, a girl unhappy, Work at proper time for working, And my shoulders stooped with weakness; And at other times they ordered 630 That the fire should now be kindled, With my hands that I should stir it.

"To their hearts' desire they scolded, With their tongues they heaped reproaches On my spotless reputation, On my character, though stainless. Evil words they heaped upon me, And abuse they showered upon me, Like the sparks from furious fire, Or a very hail of iron. 640

"Until then despaired I never, And had spent my life as erstwhile There to aid the harsh old woman, To her fiery tongue submitting: But 'twas this that brought me evil, This that caused me greatest anguish, When to wolf was changed my husband, To a growling bear converted, Turned his side to me when eating, Turned his back asleep or working. 650

"I myself broke out in weeping, And I pondered in the storehouse, And my former life remembering, And my life in former seasons, In the homestead of my father, In my sweetest mother's dwelling.

"Then in words I spoke my feelings, And I spoke the words which follow: 'Well indeed my dearest mother Understood to rear her apple, 660 And the tender shoot to cherish, But she knew not where to plant it, For the tender shoot is planted In a very evil station, In a very bad position, 'Mid the hard roots of a birch-tree, There to weep while life remaineth, And to spend the months lamenting.

"'Surely, surely, I am worthy Of a home than this much better, 670 Worthy of a larger homestead, And a floor more wide-extended, Worthy of a better partner, And a husband far more handsome. With a birchbark shoe I'm fitted, With a slipshod shoe of birchbark, Like a very crow's his body, With a beak like any raven, And his mouth like wolf's is greedy, And his form a bear resembles. 680

"'Such a one I might have found me, If I'd wandered to the mountains, Picked from off the road a pine-stump, From the wood a stump of alder, For his face the turf resembles, And his beard the moss from tree-trunks, Head of clay, and mouth all stony, And his eyes like coals of fire, Knobs of birch his ears resemble, And his legs are forking willows.' 690

"While my song I thus was singing, Sighing in my grievous trouble, He, my husband, chanced to hear it, At the wall as he was standing. When I heard him then approaching, At the storehouse gate when standing, I was conscious of his coming, For I recognized his footstep. And his hair in wind was tossing, And his hair was all disordered, 700 And his gums with rage were grinning, And his eyes with fury staring, In his hand a stick of cherry, 'Neath his arm a club he carried, And he hurried to attack me, And upon the head he struck me.

"When the evening came thereafter, And there came the time for sleeping, At his side a rod he carried, Took from nail a whip of leather, 710 Not designed to flay another, But alas, for me, unhappy.

"Then when I myself retired, To my resting-place at evening, By my husband's side I stretched me, By my side my husband rested, When he seized me by the elbows, With his wicked hands he grasped me, And with willow rods he beat me, And the haft of bone of walrus. 720

"From his cold side then I raised me, And I left the bed of coldness, But behind me ran my husband, From the door came wildly rushing. In my hair his hands he twisted, Grasping it in all his fury, In the wind my hair he scattered, To the winds of spring abandoned.

"What advice should now be followed, Where had I to look for counsel? 730 Shoes of steel I put upon me, Bands of copper put upon me, As I stood beyond the house-wall. In the street for long I listened, Till the wretch should calm his fury, And his passion had subsided, But his anger never slumbered, Neither for a time abated.

"At the last the cold o'ercame me, In my hiding-place so dismal, 740 Where I stood beyond the house-wall, And without the door I waited, And I pondered and reflected: 'This I cannot bear for ever, Nor can bear their hatred longer, Longer can I not endure it, In this dreadful house of Lempo, In this lair of evil demons.'

"From the handsome house I turned me, And my pleasant home abandoned, 750 And commenced my weary wanderings, Through the swamps and through the lowlands, Past the open sheets of water, Past the cornfields of my brother. There the dry pines all were rustling, And the crowns of fir-trees singing, All the crows were croaking loudly, And the magpies all were chattering,

"'Here for thee no home remaineth, In the house thy birth which witnessed.' 760

"But I let it not distress me, As I neared my brother's homestead, But the gates themselves addressed me, And the cornfields all lamented:

"'Wherefore hast thou thus come homeward, What sad news to hear, O wretched? Long ago has died thy father, Perished has thy sweetest mother, All estranged is now thy brother, And his wife is like a Russian.' 770

"But I let it not distress me, And at once the house I entered, At the door I grasped the handle, Cold within my hand I felt it.

"After, when the room I entered, In the doorway I was standing, And the mistress stood there proudly, But she did not come to meet me, Nor to me her hand she offered. I myself was proud as she was, 780 And I would not go to meet her, And my hand I would not offer. On the stove my hand I rested. Cold I felt the very hearthstones, To the burning coals I reached it; In the stove the coals were frozen.

"On the bench there lay my brother, Lazy on the bench extended, On his shoulders soot by fathoms, And by spans upon his body, 790 On his head glowed coals a yard high, And of hard-caked soot a quartful.

"Asked my brother of the stranger, Of the guest he thus inquired: 'Stranger, why hast crossed the water?'

"And on this I gave him answer: 'Dost thou then not know thy sister, Once the daughter of thy mother? We are children of one mother, Of one bird are we the nestlings: 800 By one goose have we been nurtured, In one grouse's nest been fostered.'

"Then my brother broke out weeping, From his eyes the tears were falling.

"To his wife then said my brother, And he whispered to his darling, 'Bring some food to give my sister!' But with mocking eyes she brought me Cabbage-stalks from out the kitchen, Whence the whelp the fat had eaten, 810 And the dog had licked the salt from, And the black dog had his meal of.

"To his wife then said my brother, And he whispered to his darling, 'Fetch some ale to give the stranger!' But with mocking eyes she carried Water only for the stranger, But, instead of drinking water, Water she had washed her face in, And her sister washed her hands in. 820

"From my brother's house I wandered, Left the house that I was born in, Hurried forth, O me unhappy, Wandered on, O me unhappy, Wretched on the shores to wander, Toiling on, for ever wretched, Always to the doors of strangers, Always to the gates of strangers, On the beach, with poorest children, Sufferers of the village poorhouse. 830

"There were many of the people, Many were there who abused me, And with evil words attacked me, And with sharpest words repulsed me. Few there are among the people Who have spoken to me kindly, And with kindly words received me, And before the stove who led me, When I came from out the rainstorm, Or from out the cold came shrinking, 840 With my dress with rime all covered, While the snow my fur cloak covered.

"In my youthful days I never, I could never have believed it, Though a hundred told me of it, And a thousand tongues repeated Such distress should fall upon me, Such distress should overwhelm me, As upon my head has fallen, Laid upon my hands such burdens." 850



RUNO XXIV.—THE DEPARTURE OF THE BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM

Argument

The bridegroom is instructed how he should behave towards his bride, and is cautioned not to treat her badly (1-264). An old beggar relates how he once brought his wife to reason (265-296). The bride remembers with tears that she is now quitting her dear birthplace for the rest of her life, and says farewell to all (297-462). Ilmarinen lifts his bride into the sledge and reaches his home on the evening of the third day (463-528).

Now the girl had well been lectured, And the bride had been instructed; Let me now address my brother, Let me lecture now the bridegroom.

"Bridegroom, dearest of my brothers, Thou the best of all my brothers, Dearest of my mother's children, Gentlest of my father's children, Listen now to what I tell thee, What I speak and what I tell thee, 10 Of thy linnet who awaits thee, And the dove that thou hast captured.

"Bridegroom, bless thy happy fortune, For the fair one granted to thee, When thou praisest, praise thou loudly, Loudly praise the good that's granted, Loudly praise thou thy Creator, For the gracious gift He granted, And her father praise thou also, Even more her mother praise thou, 20 They who reared their lovely daughter To the charming bride beside thee.

"Stainless sits the maid beside thee, Maiden bright to thee united, Pledged to thee in all her beauty, Fair one under thy protection, Charming girl upon thy bosom, At thy side so sweetly blushing, Girl with strength to help in threshing, Or to help thee in the hayfield, 30 Skilful, too, to do the washing, Quick to bleach the clothes to whiteness, Skilful, too, the thread in spinning, Rapid, too, the cloth when weaving.

"And I hear her loom resounding, As upon the hill the cuckoo, And I see her shuttle darting, As the ermine through a thicket, And the reel she twists as quickly As the squirrel's mouth a fir-cone. 40 Never sound has slept the village, Nor the country people slumbered, For her loom's incessant clatter, And the whizzing of the shuttle.

"O thou loved and youthful bridegroom, Handsomest of all the people, Forge thou now a scythe of sharpness, Fix the best of handles on it, Carve it, sitting in the doorway, Hammer it upon a tree-stump. 50 When there comes the time of sunshine, Take thy young wife to the meadow, Look thou where the grass is rustling, And the harder grass is crackling, And the reeds are gently murmuring, And the sorrel gently rustling, Also note where stand the hillocks, And the shoots from stumps arising.

"When another day is dawning, Let her have a weaver's shuttle, 60 And a batten that shall suit it, And a loom of best construction, And a treadle of the finest. Make the weaver's chair all ready, For the damsel fix the treadle, Lay her hand upon the batten. Soon the shuttle shall be singing, And the treadle shall be thumping, Till the rattling fills the village, And the noise is heard beyond it: 70 And the crones will all perceive it, And the village women question, 'Who is this we hear a-weaving?' And you thus must make them answer: ''Tis my own, my darling, weaving, 'Tis my loved one makes the clatter, Shall she loosen now the fabric, And the shuttle cease from throwing?'

"'Let her not the fabric loosen, Nor the shuttle cease from throwing. 80 Thus may weave the Moon's fair daughters, Thus may spin the Sun's fair daughters, Even thus the Great Bear's daughters. Of the lovely stars the daughters.'

"O thou loved and youthful bridegroom, Handsomest of all the people, Set thou forth upon thy journey, Hasten to commence thy journey, Bear away thy youthful maiden, Bear away thy dove so lovely. 90 From thy finch depart thou never, Nor desert thy darling linnet; In the ditches do not drive her, Nor against the hedge-stakes drive her, Nor upset her on the tree-stumps, Nor in stony places cast her. In her father's house she never, In her dearest mother's homestead, In the ditches has been driven, Nor against the hedge-stakes driven, 100 Nor upset upon the tree-stumps, Nor upset in stony places.

"O thou loved and youthful bridegroom, Handsomest of all the people, Never may'st thou send the damsel, Never may'st thou push the fair one In the corner there to loiter, Or to rummage in the corner. In her father's house she never, Never in her mother's household, 110 Went to loiter in the corner, Or to rummage in the corner. Always sat she at the window, In the room she sat, and rocked her, As her father's joy at evening, And her mother's love at morning.

"Never may'st thou, luckless husband, Never may'st thou lead thy dovekin, Where with arum-roots the mortar, Stands, the rind to pound from off them, 120 Or her bread from straw prepare her, Neither from the shoots of fir-trees. In her father's house she never, In her tender mother's household, Needed thus to use the mortar, Pounding thus the rind from marsh-roots, Nor from straw her bread prepare her, Neither from the shoots of fir-tree.

"May'st thou always lead this dovekin To a slope with corn abundant, 130 Or to help her from the rye-bins, From the barley-bins to gather, Whence large loaves of bread to bake her, And the best of ale to brew her, Loaves of wheaten-bread to bake her, Kneaded dough for cakes prepare her.

"Bridegroom, dearest of my brothers, Never may'st thou make this dovekin, Nor may'st cause our tender gosling, Down to sit, and weep in sadness. 140 If there comes an hour of evil, And the damsel should be dreary Yoke thou in the sledge the chestnut, Or the white horse do thou harness, Drive her to her father's dwelling, To her mother's home familiar.

"Never may'st thou treat this dovekin, Never may this darling linnet, Ever be like slave-girl treated, Neither like a hired servant, 150 Neither be forbid the cellar, Nor the storehouse closed against her Never in her father's dwelling, In her tender mother's household, Was she treated like a slave-girl, Neither like a hired servant, Neither was forbid the cellar, Nor the storehouse closed against her. Always did she cut the wheatbread, And the hens' eggs also looked to, 160 And she looked to all the milk-tubs, Looked within the ale-casks likewise, In the morn the storehouse opened, Locked it also in the evening.

"O thou loved and youthful bridegroom, Handsomest of all the people, If thou treatest well the damsel, Thou wilt meet a good reception When thou seek'st her father's dwelling, Visiting her much loved mother. 170 Thou thyself wilt well be feasted, Food and drink be set before thee, And thy horse will be unharnessed, And be led into the stable, Drink and fodder set before him, And a bowl of oats provided.

"Never surely, may our damsel, May our well-beloved linnet, Be in hissing tones upbraided, That from no high race she springeth; 180 For in very truth our damsel Comes of great and famous lineage. If of beans you sow a measure One bean each, it yields her kinsfolk; If of flax you sow a measure, But a thread it yields to each one.

"Never may'st thou, luckless husband, Badly treat this beauteous damsel, Nor chastise her with the slave-whip, Weeping 'neath the thongs of leather, 190 'Neath the five-lashed whip lamenting, Out beyond the barn lamenting. Never was the maid aforetime, Never in her father's dwelling, With the slave-whip e'er corrected, Weeping 'neath the thongs of leather, 'Neath the five-lashed whip lamenting, Out beyond the barn lamenting.

"Stand thou like a wall before her, Stand before her like a doorpost, 200 Do not let thy mother beat her, Do not let thy father scold her, Do not let the guests abuse her, Do not let the neighbours blame her. Drive the mob away with whipping, Beat thou other people only, Do thou not oppress thy darling, Nor chastise thy heart's beloved, Whom for three long years thou waitedst, She whom thou alone hast longed for. 210

"Bridegroom, give thy bride instruction, And do thou instruct thy apple, In the bed do thou instruct her, And behind the door advise her, For a whole year thus instruct her, Thus by word of mouth advise her, With thine eyes the next year teach her, And the third year teach by stamping.

"If to this she pays no heeding, Nor concerns herself about it, 220 Choose a reed where reeds are growing, From the heath fetch thou some horse-tail, And with these correct the damsel, In the fourth year thus correct her, With the stalks then whip her lightly, With the rough edge of the sedges, But with whiplash do not strike her, Neither with the rod correct her.

"If to this she pays no heeding, Nor concerns herself about it, 230 Bring a switch from out the thicket, In the dell select a birch-rod, Underneath thy fur cloak hide it, That the neighbours may not know it, Let the damsel only see it; Threaten her, but do not touch her.

"If to this she pays no heeding, Nor concerns herself about it, With the switch correct the damsel, With the birch-rod do thou teach her, 240 But within the room four-cornered, Or within the hut moss-covered. Do not beat her in the meadow, Do not whip her in the cornfield, Lest the noise should reach the village, And to other homes the quarrel, Neighbours' wives should hear the crying, And the uproar in the forest.

"Always strike her on the shoulders, On her soft cheeks do thou strike her, 250 On her eyes forbear to strike her, On her ears forbear to touch her; Lumps would rise upon her temples, And her eyes with blue be bordered, And the brother-in-law would question, And the father-in-law perceive it, And the village ploughmen see it, And would laugh the village women:

"'Has she been among the spear-thrusts, Has she marched into a battle, 260 Or the mouth of wolf attacked her, Or the forest bear has mauled her, Or was perhaps the wolf her husband, Was the bear perchance her consort?'" By the stove there lay an old man, By the hearth there sat a beggar; From the stove there spoke the old man, From the hearth there spoke the beggar.

"Never may'st thou, luckless husband, Listen to thy wife's opinion, 270 Tongue of lark, and whim of women, Like myself, a youth unhappy, For both bread and meat I bought her, Bought her butter, ale I bought her, Every sort of fish I bought her, Bought her all sorts of provisions, Home-brewed ale the best I bought her, Likewise wheat from foreign countries.

"But she let it not content her, Nor did it improve her temper, 280 For one day the room she entered, And she grasped my hair, and tore it, And her face was quite distorted, And her eyes were wildly rolling, Always scolding in her fury, To her heart's contentment scolding, Heaping foul abuse upon me, Roaring at me as a sluggard.

"But I knew another method, Knew another way to tame her, 290 So I peeled myself a birch-shoot, When she came, and called me birdie; But when juniper I gathered, Then she stooped, and called me darling; When I lifted rods of willow, On my neck she fell embracing."

Now the hapless girl was sighing, Sighing much, and sobbing sadly; Presently she broke out weeping, And she spoke the words which follow: 300 "Soon most now depart the others, And the time is fast approaching, But my own departure's nearer, Swiftly comes my time for parting. Mournful is indeed my going, Sad the hour of my departure, From this far-renowned village, And this ever-charming homestead, Where my face was ever joyful, And I grew to perfect stature, 310 All the days that I was growing, While my childhood's years were passing.

"Until now I never pondered, Nor believed in all my lifetime, Never thought on my departure, Realized my separation, From the precincts of this castle, From the hill where it is builded. Now I feel I am departing, And I know that I am going. 320 Empty are the parting goblets, And the ale of parting finished, And the sledges all are waiting, Front to fields, and back to homestead, With one side towards the stables, And the other to the cowhouse.

"Whence comes now my separation, Whence my sadness at departure, How my mother's milk repay her. Or the goodness of my father, 330 Or my brother's love repay him, Or my sister's fond affection?

"Thanks to thee, my dearest father, For my former life so joyful, For the food of days passed over, For the best of all the dainties Thanks to thee, my dearest mother, For my childhood's cradle-rocking, For thy tending of the infant, Whom thou at thy breast hast nurtured. 340

"Also thanks, my dearest brother, Dearest brother, dearest sister, Happiness to all the household, All companions of my childhood, Those with whom I lived and sported, And who grew from childhood with me.

"May thou not, O noble father, May thou not, O tender mother, Or my other noble kindred, Or my race, the most illustrious, 350 Ever fall into affliction, Or oppressed by grievous trouble, That I thus desert my country, That I wander to a distance. Shines the sun of the Creator, Beams the moon of the Creator, And the stars of heaven are shining, And the Great Bear is extended Ever in the distant heavens, Evermore in other regions, 360 Not alone at father's homestead, In the home where passed my childhood.

"Truly must I now be parted From the home I loved so dearly, From my father's halls be carried, From among my mother's cellars, Leave the swamps and fields behind me, Leave behind me all the meadows, Leave behind the sparkling waters, Leave the sandy shore behind me, 370 Where the village women bathe them, And the shepherd-boys are splashing.

"I must leave the quaking marshes, And the wide-extending lowlands, And the peaceful alder-thickets, And the tramping through the heather, And the strolling past the hedgerows, And the loitering on the pathways, And my dancing through the farmyards, And my standing by the house-walls, 380 And the cleaning of the planking, And the scrubbing of the flooring, Leave the fields where leap the reindeer, And the woods where run the lynxes, And the wastes where flock the wild geese, And the woods where birds are perching.

"Now indeed I am departing, All the rest I leave behind me; In the folds of nights of autumn, On the thin ice of the springtime, 390 On the ice I leave no traces, On the slippery ice no footprints, From my dress no thread upon it, Nor in snow my skirt's impression.

"If I should return in future, And again my home revisit, Mother hears my voice no longer, Nor my father heeds my weeping, Though I'm sobbing in the corner, Or above their heads am speaking, 400 For the young grass springs already And the juniper is sprouting O'er the sweet face of my mother, And the cheeks of her who bore me.

"If I should return in future To the wide-extended homestead, I shall be no more remembered, Only by two little objects. At the lowest hedge are hedge-bands, At the furthest field are hedge-stakes, 410 These I fixed when I was little, As a girl with twigs I bound them.

"But my mother's barren heifer, Unto which I carried water, And which as a calf I tended, She will low to greet my coming, From the dunghill of the farmyard, Or the wintry fields around it; She will know me, when returning, As the daughter of the household. 420

"Then my father's splendid stallion, Which I fed when I was little, Which as girl I often foddered, He will neigh to greet my coming, From the dunghill of the farmyard, Or the wintry fields around it; He will know me, when returning, As the daughter of the household.

"Then the dog, my brother's favourite Which as child I fed so often, 430 Which I trained when in my girlhood, He will bark to greet my coming, From the dunghill of the farmyard, Or the wintry fields around it; He will know me, when returning, As the daughter of the household.

"But the others will not know me, To my former home returning, Though my boats are still the old ones, As when here I lived aforetime, 440 By the shores where swim the powans, And the nets are spread as usual.

"Now farewell, thou room beloved, Thou my room, with roof of boarding; Good it were for me returning, That I once again should scrub thee.

"Now farewell, thou hall beloved, Thou my hall, with floor of boarding; Good it were for me returning, That I once again should scrub thee. 450

"Now farewell, thou yard beloved, With my lovely mountain-ashtree; Good it were for me returning, Once again to wander round thee.

"Now farewell to all things round me, Berry-bearing fields and forests, And the flower-bearing roadsides, And the heaths o'ergrown with heather, And the lakes with hundred islands, And the depths where swim the powans, 460 And the fair hills with the fir-trees, And the swampy ground with birch-trees."

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, In the sledge the maiden lifted, With his whip he lashed the coursers, And he spoke the words which follow: "Now farewell to all the lakeshores, Shores of lakes, and slopes of meadows, All the pine-trees on the hill-sides, And the tall trees in the firwoods, 470 And behind the house the alders, And the junipers by well-sides, In the plains, all berry-bushes, Berry-bushes, stalks of grasses, Willow-bushes, stumps of fir-trees, Alder-leaves, and bark of birch-trees!"

Thus at length, smith Ilmarinen Forth from Pohjola departed, With the children farewells singing, And they sang the words which follow: 480

"Hither flew a bird of blackness, Through the wood he speeded swiftly, Well he knew to lure our duckling, And entice from us our berry, And he took from us our apple, Drew the fish from out the water, Lured her with a little money, And enticed her with his silver. Who will fetch us now the water, Who will take us to the river? 490

"Now remain the buckets standing, And the yoke is idly rattling, And the floor unswept remaineth, And unswept remains the planking, Empty now are all the pitchers, And the jugs two-handled dirty."

But the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, With the young girl hastened homeward, Driving rattling on his journey, From the magic coast of Pohja, 500 By the shore of Sound of Sima. On he drove across the sandhills, Shingle crashed, and sand was shaking, Swayed the sledge, the pathway rattled, Loudly rang the iron runners, And the frame of birch resounded, And the curving laths were rattling, Shaking was the cherry collar, And the whiplash whistling loudly, And the rings of copper shaking, 510 As the noble horse sprang forward, As the White-front galloped onward.

Drove the smith one day, a second, Driving likewise on the third day; With one hand the horse he guided, And with one embraced the damsel, One foot on the sledge-side rested, Underneath the rug the other. Quick they sped, and fast they journeyed, And at length upon the third day 520 Just about the time of sunset, Hove in sight the smith's fair dwelling And they came to Ilma's homestead, And the smoke in streaks ascended, And the smoke rose thickly upward, From the house in wreaths arising, Up amid the clouds ascending.



RUNO XXV.—THE HOME-COMING OF THE BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM

Argument

The bride, the bridegroom and their company are received at the home of Ilmarinen (1-382). The company are hospitably entertained with food and drink: and Vainamoinen sings the praises of the host, the hostess, the inviter, the bridesmaid, and the other wedding-guests (383-672). On the way back Vainamoinen's sledge breaks down, but he repairs it, and drives home (673-738).

Long already 'twas expected, Long expected and awaited, That the new bride soon would enter The abode of Ilmarinen; And the eyes with rheum were dripping Of the old folks at the windows, And the young folks' knees were failing As about the door they waited, And the children's feet were freezing, By the wall as they were standing, 10 Mid-aged folks their shoes were spoiling, As upon the beach they wandered.

And at length upon a morning, Just about the time of sunrise, From the wood they heard a rattling, As the sledge came rushing onward.

Lokka then the kindest hostess, Kaleva's most handsome matron, Uttered then the words which follow: "'Tis my son's sledge now approaching, 20 As from Pohjola he cometh, And he brings the youthful damsel. Straight he journeys to this country, To the homestead hastens onward, To the house his father gave him, Which his parents had constructed."

Therefore thus did Ilmarinen Hasten forward to the homestead, To the house his father gave him, Which his parents had constructed. 30

Hazel-grouse were twittering blithely On the collar formed of saplings, And the cuckoos all were calling, On the sledge's sides while sitting, And the squirrels leaped and frolicked On the shafts of maple fashioned.

Lokka then the kindest hostess, Kaleva's most beauteous matron, Uttered then the words which follow, And in words like these expressed her: 40

"For the new moon waits the village, And the young await the sunrise, Children search where grow the berries, And the water waits the tarred boat; For no half-moon have I waited, Nor the sun have I awaited, But I waited for my brother, For my brother and step-daughter, Gazed at morning, gazed at evening, Knew not what had happened to them, 50 If a child he had been rearing, Or a lean one he had fattened, That he came not any sooner, Though he faithfully had promised Soon to turn his footsteps homeward, Ere defaced had been his footprints.

"Ever gazed I forth at morning, And throughout the day I pondered, If my brother was not coming, Nor his sledge was speeding onward 60 Swiftly to this little homestead, To this very narrow dwelling. Though the horse were but a straw one, And the sledge were but two runners, Yet a sledge I still would call it, And a sledge would still esteem it, If it homeward brought my brother, And another fair one with him.

"Thus throughout my life I wished it, This throughout the day I looked for, 70 Till my head bowed down with gazing, And my hair bulged up in ridges, And my bright eyes were contracted, Hoping for my brother's coming Swiftly to this little household, To this very narrow dwelling, And at length my son is coming, And in truth is coming swiftly, With a lovely form beside him, And a rose-cheeked girl beside him. 80

"Bridegroom, O my dearest brother, Now the white-front horse unharness, Do thou lead the noble courser To his own familiar pasture, To the oats but lately garnered; Then bestow thy greetings on us, Greet us here, and greet the others, All the people of the village.

"When thou hast bestowed thy greetings, Thou must tell us all thy story. 90 Did thy journey lack adventures, Hadst thou health upon thy journey, To thy mother-in-law when faring, To thy father-in-law's dear homestead, There to woo and win the maiden, Beating down the gates of battle, And the maiden's castle storming, Breaking down the walls uplifted, Stepping on her mother's threshold, Sitting at her father's table? 100

"But I see without my asking, And perceive without inquiry, He has prospered on his journey, With his journey well contented. He has wooed and won the gosling, Beaten down the gates of battle, Broken down the boarded castle, And the walls of linden shattered, When her mother's house he entered, And her father's home he entered. 110 In his care is now the duckling, In his arms behold the dovekin, At his side the modest damsel, Shining in her radiant beauty.

"Who has brought the lie unto us, And the ill report invented, That the bridegroom came back lonely, And his horse had sped for nothing? For the bridegroom comes not lonely, Nor his horse has sped for nothing; 120 Perhaps the horse has brought back something, For his white mane he is shaking, For the noble horse is sweating, And the foal with foam is whitened, From his journey with the dovekin, When he drew the blushing damsel.

"In the sledge stand up, O fair one, On its floor, O gift most noble, Do thou raise thyself unaided, And do thou arise unlifted, 130 If the young man tries to lift thee, And the proud one seeks to raise thee.

"From the sledge do thou upraise thee, From the sledge do thou release thee, Walk upon this flowery pathway, On the path of liver-colour, Which the swine have trod quite even, And the hogs have trampled level, Over which have passed the lambkins, And the horses' manes swept over. 140

"Step thou with the step of gosling, Strut thou with the feet of duckling, In the yard that's washed so cleanly, On the smooth and level grassplot, Where the father rules the household, And the mother holds dominion, To the workplace of the brother, And the sister's blue-flowered meadow.

"Set thy foot upon the threshold, Then upon the porch's flooring, 150 On the honeyed floor advance thou, Next the inner rooms to enter, Underneath these famous rafters, Underneath this roof so lovely.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, Sang the floor composed of duckbones, That thyself should stand upon it, And the golden roof resounded That thou soon should'st walk beneath it, 160 And the windows were rejoicing, For thy sitting at the windows.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, Often rattled the door-handles, For the ringed hands that should close them, And the stairs were likewise creaking For the fair one robed so grandly, And the doors stood always open, And their opener thus awaited. 170

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, That the room around has turned it, Unto those the room who dusted, And the hall has made it ready For the sweepers, when they swept it, And the very barns were chirping To the sweepers as they swept them.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, 180 That the yard in secret turned it To the gatherer of the splinters, And the storehouses bowed downward, For the wanderer who should enter, Rafters bowed, and beams bent downward To receive the young wife's wardrobe.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, That the pathways had been sighing For the sweeper of the pathways, 190 And the cowsheds nearer drawing To the cleanser of the cowsheds; Songs and dances were abandoned, Till should sing and dance our duckling.

"On this very day already, And upon the day before it, Early has the cow been lowing, And her morning hay expecting, And the foal has loud been neighing That his truss of hay be cast him, 200 And the lamb of spring has bleated, That its food its mistress bring it.

"On this very day already, And upon the day before it, Sat the old folks at the windows, On the beach there ran the children, By the wall there stood the women, In the porch-door youths were waiting, Waiting for the youthful mistress, And the bride they all awaited. 210

"Hail to all within the household, Likewise hail to all the heroes, Hail, O barn, and all within thee, Barn, and all the guests within thee, Hail, O hall, and all within thee, Birchbark roof, and all thy people, Hail, O room, and all within thee, Hundred-boards, with all thy children! Hail, O moon, to thee, O monarch, And the bridal train so youthful! 220 Never was there here aforetime, Never yesterday nor ever, Was a bridal train so splendid: Never were such handsome people.

"Bridegroom, O my dearest brother, Let the red cloths now be loosened, Laid aside the veils all silken; Let us see thy cherished marten, Whom for five long years thou wooed'st, And for eight years thou hast longed for. 230

"Hast thou brought whom thou hast wished for, Hast thou brought with thee the cuckoo, From the land a fair one chosen, Or a rosy water-maiden?

"But I see without my asking, Comprehend without inquiry, Thou has really brought the cuckoo, Hast the blue duck in thy keeping; Greenest of the topmost branches, Thou hast brought from out the greenwood, 240 Freshest of the cherry-branches, From the freshest cherry-thickets."

On the floor there sat an infant, From the floor spoke out the infant:

"O my brother, what thou bringest, Is a tar-stump void of beauty, Half as long as a tar-barrel, And as tall as is a bobbin.

"Shame, O shame, unhappy bridegroom, All thy life thou hast desired, 250 Vowed to choose from hundred maidens, And among a thousand maidens, Bring the noblest of the hundred, From a thousand unattractive; From the swamp you bring a lapwing, From the hedge you bring a magpie, From the field you bring a scarecrow, From the fallow field a blackbird.

"What has she as yet accomplished, In the summer just passed over, 260 If the gloves she was not weaving, Nor begun to make the stockings? Empty to the house she cometh, To our household brings no presents, Mice are squeaking in the baskets, Long-eared mice are in the coppers."

Lokka, most accomplished hostess, Kaleva's most handsome matron, Heard these wondrous observations, And replied in words which follow: 270

"Wretched child, what art thou saying? To thy own disgrace thou speakest! Thou may'st wonders hear of others, Others may'st perchance disparage, But thou may'st not shame this damsel, Nor the people of this household.

"Bad the words that thou hast uttered, Bad the words that thou hast spoken, With the mouth of calf of night-time, With the head of day-old puppy. 280 Handsome is this noble damsel, Noblest she of all the country, Even like a ripening cranberry, Or a strawberry on the mountain, Like the cuckoo in the tree-top, Little bird in mountain-ashtree, In the birch a feathered songster, White-breast bird upon the maple.

"Ne'er from Saxony came ever, Nor in Viro could they fashion 290 Such a girl of perfect beauty, Such a duck without an equal, With a countenance so lovely, And so noble in her stature, And with arms of such a whiteness, And with slender neck so graceful.

"Neither comes the damsel dowerless, Furs enough she brought us hither, Blankets, too, as gifts she brought us, Cloths as well she carried with her. 300

"Much already has this damsel Wrought by working with her spindle, On her own reel has she wound it, With her fingers much has finished. Cloths of very brilliant lustre Has she folded up in winter, In the spring days has she bleached them, In the summer months has dried them; Splendid sheets the beds to spread on, Cushions soft for heads to rest on, 310 Silken neckcloths of the finest, Woollen mantles of the brightest.

"Noble damsel, fairest damsel, With thy beautiful complexion, In the house wilt thou be honoured, As in father's house the daughter, All thy life shalt thou be honoured, As in husband's house the mistress.

"Never will we cause thee trouble, Never trouble bring upon thee. 320 To the swamp thou wast not carried, Nor from the ditch-side they brought thee, From the cornfields rich they brought thee, But to better fields they led thee, And they took thee from the ale-house, To a home where ale is better.

"Noble girl, and fairest damsel, One thing only will I ask thee, Didst thou notice on thy journey Shocks of corn that stood uplifted, 330 Ears of rye in shocks uplifted, All belonging to this homestead, From the ploughing of thy husband? He has ploughed and he has sown it.

"Dearest girl, and youthful damsel, This is what I now will tell thee, Thou hast willed our house to enter: Be contented with the household. Here 'tis good to be the mistress, Good to be a fair-faced daughter, 340 Sitting here among the milk-pans, Butter-dishes at thy service.

"This is pleasant for a damsel, Pleasant for a fair-faced dovekin. Broad the planking of the bathroom, Broad within the rooms the benches, Here the master's like thy father, And the mistress like thy mother, And the sons are like thy brothers, And the daughters like thy sisters. 350

"If the longing e'er should seize thee, And the wish should overtake thee, For the fish thy father captured, Or for grouse to ask thy brother, From thy brother-in-law ask nothing, From thy father-in-law ask nothing; Best it is to ask thy husband, Ask him to obtain them for thee. There are not within the forest Any four-legged beasts that wander, 360 Neither birds in air that flutter Two-winged birds with rushing pinions, Neither in the shining waters Swarm the best of all the fishes, Which thy husband cannot capture; He can catch and bring them to thee.

"Here 'tis good to be a damsel, Here to be a fair-faced dovekin; Need is none to work the stone-mill; Need is none to work the mortar; 370 Here the wheat is ground by water, And the rye by foaming torrents, And the stream cleans all utensils, And the lake-foam cleanses all things.

"O thou lovely little village, Fairest spot in all the country! Grass below, and cornfields over, In the midst between the village. Fair the shore below the village, By the shore is gleaming water, 380 Where the ducks delight in swimming, And the water-fowl are sporting." Drink they gave the bridal party, Food and drink they gave in plenty, Meat provided in abundance, Loaves provided of the finest, And they gave them ale of barley, Spicy drink, from wheat concocted. Roast they gave them in abundance, Food and drink in all abundance, 390 In the dishes red they brought it, In the handsomest of dishes. Cakes were there, in pieces broken, Likewise there were lumps of butter, Powans too, to be divided, Salmon too, to cut to pieces, With the knives composed of silver, And with smaller knives all golden.

Ale unpurchased there was flowing, Mead for which you could not bargain; 400 Ale flowed from the ends of rafters, Honey from the taps was oozing, Ale around the lips was foaming, Mead the mood of all enlivened.

Who among them should be cuckoo, Who should sing a strain most fitting? Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, He the great primeval minstrel, He himself commenced his singings, Set about composing verses, 410 And he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in thiswise: "O my own beloved brethren, O most eloquent companions, O my comrades, ready talkers, Listen now to what I tell you, Rarely kiss the geese each other, Rarely sisters gaze on sisters, Rarely side by side stand brothers, Side by side stand mother's children, 420 In these desert lands so barren, In the wretched northern regions.

"Shall we give ourselves to singing, Set about composing verses? None can sing except the singer, None can call save vernal cuckoo, None can paint, except Sinetar, None can weave save Kankahatar.

"Lapland's children, they are singing, And the hay-shod ones are chanting, 430 As the elk's rare flesh they feast on, Or the meat of smaller reindeer, Wherefore then should I not carol, Wherefore should our children sing not, While upon the ryebread feasting, Or when eating is concluded?

"Lapland's children, they are singing, And the hay-shod ones are chanting, As they drink from water-pitchers, While they chew the bark of fir-tree. 440 Wherefore then should I not carol, Wherefore should our children sing not, While the juice of corn we're drinking, And the best-brewed ale of barley?

"Lapland's children they are singing, And the hay-shod ones are chanting, Even by the sooty fire, As they lay the coals upon it. Wherefore then should I not carol, Wherefore should our children sing not, 450 Underneath these famous rafters, Underneath a roof so splendid?

"Good it is for men to dwell here, Good for women to reside here, All among the barrels ale-filled, Standing close beside the mead-tubs, Near the sound where swarm the powans, Near the place for netting salmon, Where the food is never failing, And the drink is never stinted. 460

"Good it is for men to dwell here, Good for women to reside here, Here to eat by care untroubled, Here to live without affliction, Here to eat unvexed by trouble, And to live without a sorrow, Long as lives our host among us, All the lifetime of our hostess.

"Which shall I first praise in singing, Shall it be the host or hostess? 470 Always first they praise the heroes, Therefore first I praise the Master, He who first prepared the marshland, And along the shore who wandered, And he brought great stumps of fir-trees, And he trimmed the crowns of fir-trees, Took them to a good position, Firmly built them all together, For his race a great house builded, And he built a splendid homestead, 480 Walls constructed from the forest, Rafters from the fearful mountains, Laths from out the woods provided, Boards from berry-bearing heathlands, Bark from cherry-bearing uplands, Moss from off the quaking marshes.

"And the house is well-constructed, And the roof securely fastened. Here a hundred men were gathered, On the house-roof stood a thousand, 490 When this house was first constructed, And the flooring duly fitted.

"Be assured our host so worthy, In the building of this homestead, Oft his hair exposed to tempest, And his hair was much disordered. Often has our host so noble, On the rocks his gloves left lying, Lost his hat among the fir-trees, In the marsh has sunk his stockings. 500

"Often has our host so noble In the early morning hours, When no others had arisen, And unheard by all the village, Left the cheerful fire behind him, Watched for birds in wattled wigwam, And the thorns his head were combing, Dew his handsome eyes was washing.

"Thus receives our host so noble, In his home his friends around him; 510 Filled the benches are with singers, And with joyous guests the windows, And the floor with talking people, Porches, too, with people shouting, Near the walls with people standing, Near the fence with people walking, Through the yard are folks parading, Children on the ground are creeping.

"Now I first have praised the master, I will praise our gracious hostess, 520 She who has prepared the banquet, And has filled the table for us.

"Large the loaves that she has baked us, And she stirred us up thick porridge, With her hands that move so quickly, With her soft and tenfold fingers, And she let the bread rise slowly, And the guests with speed she feasted; Pork she gave them in abundance, Gave them cakes piled up in dishes, 530 And the knives were duly sharpened, And the pointed blades pressed downward, As the salmon were divided, And the pike were split asunder.

"Often has our noble mistress, She the most accomplished housewife, Risen up before the cockcrow, And before the hen's son hastened, That she might prepare the needful, That the work might all be finished, 540 That the beer might be concocted, And the ale be ready for us.

"Well indeed our noble hostess, And this most accomplished housewife, Best of ale for us concocted, And the finest drink set flowing. 'Tis composed of malted barley, And of malt the very sweetest, And with wood she has not turned it, With a stake she has not moved it, 550 Only with her hands has raised it, Only with her arms has turned it, In the bathroom filled with vapour, On the boarding, scoured so cleanly.

"Nor did she, our noble hostess, And this most accomplished mistress, Let the germs mature them fully, While on ground the malt was lying. Oft she went into the bathroom, Went alone, at dead of midnight, 560 Fearing not the wolf should harm her, Nor the wild beasts of the forest.

"Now that we have praised the hostess, Let us also praise the inviter; Who was chosen as inviter, And upon the road to guide us? Best inviter of the village, Best of guides in all the village.

"There we look on our inviter, Clad in coat from foreign countries; 570 Round his arms 'tis tightly fitted, Neatly round his waist 'tis fitted.

"There we look on our inviter, In a narrow cloak attired; On the sand the skirts are sweeping, On the ground the train is sweeping. Of his shirt we see a little, Only see a very little, As if Kuutar's self had wove it, And the tin-adorned one wrought it. 580

"Here we look on our inviter, Belted with a belt of woollen, Woven by the Sun's fair daughter, By her beauteous fingers broidered, In the times ere fire existed, And when all unknown was fire.

"Here we look on our inviter, With his feet in silken stockings, And with silk are bound his stockings, And his garters are of satin, 590 And with gold are all embroidered. And are all adorned with silver.

"Here we look on our inviter, Best of Saxon shoes he's wearing, Like the swans upon the river, Or the ducks that swim beside them, Or the geese among the thickets, Birds of passage in the forests.

"Here we look on our inviter, With his golden locks all curling, 600 And his golden beard is plaited, On his head a lofty helmet: Up among the clouds it rises, Through the forest's glancing summit; Such a one you could not purchase For a hundred marks or thousand.

"Now that I have praised the inviter, I will also praise the bridesmaid. Whence has come to us the bridesmaid, Whence was she, the happiest, chosen? 610

"Thence has come to us the bridesmaid, Thence was she, the happiest, chosen, Where is Tanikka's strong fortress, From without the new-built castle.

"No, she came from other regions, Not at all from such a region; Thence has come to us the bridesmaid, Thence was she, the happiest, chosen, Brought to us across the water, And across the open ocean. 620

"No, she came from other regions, Not at all from such a region, Grew like strawberry in the country, On the heaths where cranberries flourish, On the field of beauteous herbage, On the heath of golden flowerets, Thence has come to us the bridesmaid, Thence was she, the happiest, chosen.

"And the bridesmaid's mouth is pretty, As the spindle used in Suomi, 630 And the bridesmaid's eyes are sparkling, As the stars that shine in heaven, Gleaming are the damsel's temples, As upon the lake the moonlight.

"Here we look upon our bridesmaid; Round her neck a chain all golden, On her head a golden head-dress, On her hands are golden bracelets, Golden rings upon her fingers, In her ears are golden earrings, 640 Loops of gold upon her temples, And her brows are bead-adorned.

"And I thought the moon was shining, When her golden clasp was gleaming, And I thought the sun was shining, When I saw her collar gleaming, And I thought a ship was sailing, When I saw her head-dress moving.

"Now that I have praised the bridesmaid, I will glance at all the people; 650 Very handsome are the people, Stately are the aged people, And the younger people pretty, And the householders are handsome.

"I have gazed at all the people, And I knew them all already; But before it never happened, Nor in future times will happen, That we meet so fine a household, Or we meet such handsome people, 660 Where the old folks are so stately, And the younger people pretty. Clothed in white are all the people, Like the forest in the hoarfrost, Under like the golden dawning: Over like the morning twilight.

"Easy to obtain was silver, Gold among the guests was scattered, In the grass were littered purses, In the lanes were bags of money, 670 For the guests who were invited, For the guests most greatly honoured."

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Of the song the mighty pillar, After this his sledge ascended, Homeward drove upon his journey, And he sang his songs for ever, Sang, and chanted spells of magic, Sang a song, and sang a second, But, as he the third was singing, 680 Clashed against a rock the runners, Crashed the shafts against a tree-stump, And the sledge broke off his chanting, And the runners stopped his singing, And the shafts in fragments shattered, And the boards broke all asunder.

Spoke the aged Vainamoinen, In the very words which follow, "Are there none among the youthful, Of the rising generation, 690 Or perchance among the aged, Of the sinking generation, Who to Tuonela can wander, And can go to Mana's country, Thence to fetch me Tuoni's auger, Bring me Mana's mighty auger, That a new sledge I may fashion, Or repair my sledge that's broken?"

But said all the younger people, And the aged people answered: 700 "There are none among the youthful, None at all among the aged, None of race so highly noble, None is such a mighty hero, As to Tuonela to travel, Journey to the land of Mana, Thence to bring you Tuoni's auger, And from Mana's home to bring it, That a new sledge you may fashion, Or repair the sledge that's broken." 710

Then the aged Vainamoinen, He the great primeval minstrel, Went again to Tuoni's country, Journeyed to the home of Mana, Fetched from Tuonela the auger, Brought from Mana's home the auger.

Then the aged Vainamoinen Sang a blue wood up before him, In the forest rose an oak-tree, And a splendid mountain-ashtree, 720 And from these a sledge he fashioned, And he shaped his runners from them, And for shafts prepared them likewise, And the frame he thus constructed, Made a sledge to suit his purpose, And a new sledge he constructed. In the shafts the horse he harnessed, Yoked before the sledge the chestnut, In the sledge himself he seated, And upon the seat he sat him, 730 And without the whip the courser, Sped, by beaded whip unharassed, To his long-accustomed fodder, To the food that waited for him, And he brought old Vainamoinen, He the great primeval minstrel, To his own door, widely open, To the threshold brought him safely.



NOTES TO RUNOS I-XXV

(These are by the translator, when not otherwise stated. K. K. indicates Prof. Kaarle Krohn, and A. M. Madame Aino Malmberg, For proper names, refer to the Glossary at the end of Vol. II.)

RUNO I

11. Kulta, "golden," here rendered "dearest," is a term constantly applied in the Kalevala to anything dear or precious.

20. "Pohja, the North, or Pohjola, the North Land, is chiefly used for the dark North, where the sun is hidden. Poetically used for a homestead in the Kalevala. Occasionally it is used as synonymous with Lapland." (K. K.)

21. When singing to the accompaniment of a harp, two Finns clasp their hands together, and sway backwards and forwards, in the manner described in the text. Compare Acerbi's Travels to the North Cape, I., chaps. xx. and xxiii., and the illustration opposite his Vol. I., p. 226.

61. Probably the honey of humble-bees (Bombus) is here meant, or the expression may be merely figurative.

63, 64. The metre allows the translation of the names of the cows to be inserted here.

110. Ilmatar, the Daughter of the Air; —tar is the usual feminine suffix in Finnish, and is generally to be understood to mean "daughter of ——." In the following passages we have the combined Finnish version of the widespread cosmogonical myths of the Divine Spirit brooding over the waters of Chaos; and the Mundane Egg. In the First Recension of the Kalevala however, and in many Finnish ballads, an eagle is said to have built her nest on the knees of Vainamoinen after he was thrown into the sea by the Laplander, and the Creation-Myth is thus transferred to him.

229-244. In the Scandinavian Mythology the world was created in a similar manner by Othin and his brothers from the body of the giant Ymir.

289. Vaka vanha Vainamoinen—these are the usual epithets applied to Vainamoinen in the Kalevala. "Vanha" means old; "vaka" is variously interpreted: I have used "steadfast" by Prof. Krohn's advice, though I think "lusty" might be a better rendering.

320. The ring-finger is usually called the "nameless finger" in Finnish.

RUNO II

27. The Bird Cherry (Prunus Padus).

29. The Mountain Ash, or Rowan Tree, is a sacred tree in Finland, as in Scotland.

83. The Great Oak-tree is a favourite subject in Finnish and Esthonian ballads.

117. Finnish, and Esthonian water-heroes are sometimes described as entirely composed of copper.

211. Compare the account of the breaking up of the Sampo, and the dispersal of its fragments, in Runo XLIII.

245. The summer ermine is the stoat, which turns white in winter in the North, when it becomes the ermine. The squirrel also turns grey in the North in winter.

376. The cuckoo is regarded as a bird of good omen.

RUNO III

15. We here find Vainamoinen, the primeval minstrel and culture-hero, the first-born of mortals, living in an already populated world. There seems to be a similar discrepancy in Gen. IV. 14-17

35. Women were held in great respect in heroic times in most Northern countries.

58. "I will bewitch him who tries to bewitch me." (K. K.)

72. A gold-adorned, or perhaps merely handsome, sledge.

154. Probably another epithet for the seal.

156. The powan, or fresh-water herring (Coregonus), of which there are several marine and fresh-water species. They are chiefly lake-fish of the Northern Hemisphere, and in the British Islands are better known in Scotland and Ireland, and in the North of England, than in the South.

168. The word used here may also mean the elk or ox.

230. The Arch of Heaven in the Kalevala means the rainbow.

231, 232. The Sun and Moon are male deities in Finnish, with sons and daughters.

233. The constellation of the Great Bear.

273. Most of the heroes of the Kalevala, except Kullervo, have black hair, and the heroines, except the wife of Ilmarinen, golden hair.

411, 412. A common ransom in Finnish and Esthonian stories.

459. The episode of Aino is a great favourite in Finland, and the name is in common use. The story often furnishes material to poets, sculptors, etc.

533. Different stories are told of the origin of both Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen, and they are often called brothers.

RUNO IV

4. Bath-whisks are used to heighten the circulation after bathing. "The leaves are left on the stems. The bath-whisks for the winter are all made early in the summer, when the leaves are softest. Of course they become quite dry, but before using, they are steeped in hot water till they become soft and fragrant." (A. M.)

75. "The storehouses where the peasant girls keep their clothes and ornaments are sometimes very pretty, and the girls always sleep there in summer. There are other storehouses for food." (A. M.)

121. According to Speke, Central African women are compelled to drink large quantities of milk, to make them inordinately fat, which is considered a great beauty.

206. Fuligala glacialis.

295. Prof. Krohn thinks the sea and not a lake is here intended.

308. This passage is hardly intelligible. "I have heard some people suggest that Aino perhaps took a birch branch, to be used as a bath-whisk." (A. M.)

377. There are many popular tales in Finnish relating to animals, especially the bear, wolf, and fox, but this is the only illustration of the true "beast-epos" in the Kalevala.

413. "The sauna, or bath-house, is always a separate building; and there Finnish people take extremely hot baths almost every evening." (A. M.) It is also used for confinements.

RUNO V

220. Here a human mother, rather than Ilmatar, seems to be ascribed to Vainamoinen. Visits to parents' graves for advice and assistance are common in Scandinavian and Esthonian literature. Commentators have also quoted the story of Achilles and Thetis, but this is hardly a parallel case.

RUNO VI

120. This passage is again inconsistent with the legend of Vainamoinen being the son of Ilmatar.

RUNO VII

19. The word used here is "poika," which literally means a boy, or a son.

51, 52. The original admirably expresses the hovering motion of the bird:

Lenteleikse, liiteleikse, Katseleikse, kaanteleikse.

142. In the original "the song of a cock's child."

177, 178. Weeping appears no more disgraceful to the heroes of the Kalevala than to those of the Iliad. Still, Vainamoinen not unfrequently plays a very undignified part when in difficulties.

241. Louhi recognized him, though he would not mention his name.

286. "Virsu is a shoe made of birch bark." (A. M.)

311. It appears that the magic mill called a Sampo could only be forged by a competent smith, from materials which Louhi alone possessed, and which, perhaps, she could not again procure. Otherwise Ilmarinen could have forged another for himself, and it would have been unnecessary for the heroes to steal it. The chain forged by the dwarfs, according to the Prose Edda, for binding the wolf Fenrir, was also composed of materials which could not again be procured. "It was fashioned out of six things; to wit, the noise made by the footfall of a cat, the beards of women, the roots of stones, the sinews of bears, the breath of fish, and the spittle of birds."

RUNO VIII

3, 4. The daughter of Louhi is never mentioned again in connection with the rainbow; and it is quite incorrect to call her the Maiden of the Rainbow, as some writers have done, for no such title is ever applied to her in the poem.

35. There are so many instances of maidens being carried off, or enticed into sledges, in the Kalevala, that it seems almost to have been a recognized legal form of marriage by capture.

57. Finnish magicians profess to understand the language of birds; but the passage in the text is probably intended only in jest.

152. In the Icelandic saga of Grettir, the hero mortally wounds himself in the leg while trying to chop up a piece of driftwood on which a witch had laid her curse.

179. The Finns supposed that if the origin of any hostile agent was known, and could be recited to it, its power for evil was at an end. In Denmark, the naming of any person or thing was an evil omen, and liable to bring about its destruction.

217, 218. Finnish hamlets are sometimes built on a hillside in the manner described.

RUNO IX

35, 36. Here we seem to have an allusion to the first chapter of Genesis.

44. The same epithet, Luonnotar, is sometimes applied to Ilmatar, and thus Vainamoinen might literally be called the brother of Iron.

111, 112. Pallas Athene sprang armed from the brain of Zeus; Karna, in India, the son of the Sun, was born with armour and earrings; and Mexitli in Mexico was born with a spear in his hand.

231. Hornets often build their nests under the eaves of houses.

242. Both frogs and toads exude a more or less poisonous secretion from the skin.

433. Honeydew seems to be meant here.

525, 526. An imaginary mountain to which the sorcerers professed to be able to banish pain and sickness.

RUNO X

306. Compare the account of the forging of the Gold and Silver Bride in Runo XXXVII.

311. "Ilmarinen first employs ordinary servants, and then calls the winds to his assistance." (K. K.)

331. In the Icelandic sagas, we read of the sword Tyrfing, forged by dwarfs, which, if ever drawn, could not again be sheathed till it had slain at least one victim.

332. Literally, "on best days."

414. In the story of Ala Ed-Deen Abush-Shamat, in the 1001 Nights, we read of a magic bead with five facets, on which were engraved a camel, an armed horseman, a pavilion; a couch, etc., according to the use intended to be made of each facet.

RUNO XI

31-42. Salme and Linda are similarly wooed by the Sun, the Moon, and a Star in the Esthonian poem, Kalevipoeg (see Kirby's Hero of Esthonia I., pp. 10-15).

264-266. These names mean respectively Blackies, Strawberries, Cranberries. "I think Lemminkainen means that he has no cows, and only calls these different berries his cows." (A. M.)

306. Lemminkainen appears to have been afraid that some one else might carry off his wife, if she showed herself in public (especially Untamo, says Prof. Krohn).

385. The Snow Bunting (Plectrophanes nivalis), a white bird more or less varied with black.

RUNO XII

25. The meaning is a little uncertain. Literally, "the only boy," as Madame Malmberg suggests. The commentary renders it, "the gallant youth."

93. The Finns and Lapps often hide money in the ground. The word used in l. 94 is "penningin," from "penni," a word common to most Teutonic and Northern languages.

211, 212. Such omens of death are common in fairy tales; as, for instance, the bleeding knives in the story of the Envious Sisters in the 1001 Nights. The bleeding trees in mediaeval romance belong to rather a different category of ideas.

233. Lemminkainen seems to have hidden himself to escape further remonstrances from his mother and Kyllikki.

262. Probably a creature like a kelpie or Phooka.

474. We are not told how Louhi escaped; but she seems to have come to no harm.

RUNO XIII

105. The part played by Hiisi in the Kalevala usually resembles that played by Loki in the Scandinavian Mythology.

109. Animals, etc., are often thus constructed in Finnish, Esthonian, and Siberian mythology by gods, demons, and magicians. They do not seem able to create from nothing, but to manufacture what they please or what they can from pre-existing materials, however incongruous.

111. I suppose rushes are here intended.

RUNO XIV

33. The word here translated "islands" properly means a wooded hill surrounded by marshland.

47, 48. Mielikki's gold and silver are the spoils of the chase.

69. Honey is sometimes used in the Kalevala for anything sweet and agreeable, just as golden is used for anything beautiful.

103, 104. It appears that the hunter's fortune in the chase was foretold by the rich or shabby garments worn by the forest-deities.

142. Finnish women often wear a blouse over their other garments.

216. Kuningas (king) is a Teutonic word, which rarely occurs in the Kalevala. The heroes are patriarchs, or chiefs of clans; not kings, as in Homer.

248. There is often much confusion of terms in the Kalevala. The creature here mentioned is generally called an elk, but often a reindeer, and in this line a camel-foal.

304. When the inferior deities are deaf or too weak, the heroes appeal to the higher Gods.

305. The reference here seems to be to Gen. vii. 11. "The whole passage is of Christian origin." (K. K.)

RUNO XV

7. Compare Homer, Iliad, III., 311-314.

240. This episode slightly resembles the story of Isis and Osiris.

498. The constellation of Orion is variously called by the Finns, the Moonshine, the Sword of Kaleva, and the Scythe of Vainamoinen.

559-562. This conceit is common in fairy tales (especially in Russian ones) in the case of heroes wakened from the dead. Sometimes it takes a comic form; and sometimes, as in the present case, a pathetic one.

617. "Dirty-nosed" is a common opprobrious expression in Esthonia.

RUNO XVI

27. The account of the boat-building in "Hiawatha's Sailing" is evidently imitated from this passage.

128. In Roman times divination from birds was chiefly taken from their flight or feeding.

RUNO XVII

20. Roads of this description are thoroughly Oriental in character.

86. In Icelandic sagas we often find heroes roused from their graves, but this is usually attempted in order to obtain a sword which has been buried with them.

93-104. Hiawatha was also swallowed by the sturgeon Nahma, but the circumstances were quite different.

211. Note the resonance of the line:

Kuusista kuhisevista.

237. Ahava, a dry cold wind that blows in March and April, probably corresponding to our cold spring east wind.

285, 286. Vipunen here refers to himself as a little man, which I presume is to be understood figuratively, as I have rendered it.

RUNO XVIII

379. Compare Cuchullain's wooing of Eimer in Irish story.

RUNO XIX

33. This episode is very like the story of Jason and Medea.

210. "The wolf Fenrir opens his enormous mouth; the lower jaw reaches to the earth, and the upper one to heaven, and would in fact reach still further were there space to admit of it." (Prose Edda.)

217. Vetehinen, a water-spirit.

311. "Ukko's bow" here means the rainbow, broken by the fiery eagle. It may be worth noting that in the Scandinavian Mythology, the sons of Fire (Muspell) are to ride over the rainbow, and break it to pieces, on their way to battle with the gods.

483. In the Danish Ballads there are several stories of children speaking in their cradles, but generally to vow vengeance against an enemy.

RUNO XX

17. The Great Ox is a stock subject in Finnish and Esthonian ballad literature.

RUNO XXI

161. The Glutton or wolverine, a well-known animal in sub-Arctic Europe, Asia, and America.

182-186. These civilities sound very Oriental.

393. This curious passage may have been partly suggested by the "coats of skin," and "the land flowing with milk and honey" of the Old Testament.

RUNO XXII

76. The word used here for father Is taatto, which curiously recalls the Welsh tad. (English, dad.)

194. In the Scandinavian Mythology the giantess Skadi was required to choose a husband from among the gods by looking at their feet only.

RUNO XXIII

330. The usual word to express a long time is viikko, a week.

469, 470. These infernal damsels play various parts in the Kalevala, as boat-women, death-bringers, etc., and here we find them in the character of Furies.

487. The term "snowy month" is used for the period between Feb. 20 and March 20. I have rendered it March.

787-792. Perhaps this is only figurative, as in the case of the unpropitious forest-deities.

RUNO XXIV

119. The roots of the marsh arum (Calla palustris), not a British plant, though naturalized in a pond at Ripley. The most usual substitute for more wholesome food in times of famine is bread composed of a mixture of fir-bark and rye.

240. Slav peasant women are said sometimes to regard beating as a sign of affection on the part of their husbands, but this does not seem to be the case with the Finns. In the Kalevala we read a good deal about wife-beating in theory, but find very little of it in practice; and even the licentious and violent Lemminkainen never thinks of beating his wife when he quarrels with her.

279-296. A similar story is told to the Princess by her confidante Olga, in the Russian opera Rusalka (water-nymph), Act III. scene i.

"And now I'd better sing a little song: As they passed in our street, A man besought his wife, 'Why don't you look pleasant? You are my delight, Darling Mashenka.'

"But the woman was obstinate, And averted her little head; 'Oh, I don't want your caresses, Nor your pretty speeches; I'm not very well, And I've got a headache.'

"But under a birch tree The man taught his wife; 'Wait a bit, my darling, I'll beat that tune out of you. In my own way.'

"Then the woman was sorry, Bowed low as the waistband. 'Don't frighten yourself, dearest, And do not be troubled, I find myself better, My headache has gone.'"

446, 450, 454. The commentary explains the word used here to mean "wander round thee," an alteration which I consider unnecessary except in the last line.

467. From the sarcastic tone of this speech, Ilmarinen seems to have been quite tired and disgusted with all the fuss, in which most of our readers will probably sympathize with him.

RUNO XXV

47. According to popular usage, a son is ennobled by being called a brother.

97. In some of the legends of Sigurd and Brynhilda, Brynhilda is represented as lying asleep in a tower of glass, encompassed by a circle of fire, through which Sigurd had to ride to wake her. In this story she is the prototype of the Sleeping Beauty.

157. We often read in Russian folk-tales of revolving huts supported on fowls' legs.

159. The favourite weapon of the Icelander Skarphedin, the son of Njal, was a bell which rang out shortly before any person was to be killed by it.

169. In the dales of Yorkshire it used to be considered very inhospitable not to leave the door open at mealtimes.

289, 290. Saxony and Viro are Germany and Esthonia.

564. Apparently a sort of master of the ceremonies at Finnish weddings, corresponding to the Russian svat, or matchmaker.

596. The scoter duck, (Oidemia nigra).

642. Brows; literally, eyelashes.

646. Her shift-collar.

665, 666. The beautiful Esthonian story of the Dawn, the Moon, and the Morning and Evening Twilight will be found in Jones and Kropf's Folk-Tales of the Magyars, pp. 326-328, and in Kirby's Hero of Esthonia, II., pp. 30-34.

END OF VOL. I

MADE AT THE TEMPLE PRESS LETCHWORTH IN GREAT BRITAIN