Author Topic: Add: The Miracle Flower


dmcg

Posted - 23 Jan 04 - 01:43 pm

Collected from Lloyd A Sanford, East Walton by Doreen H Senior and Helen Creighton.

The notes in the Journal are given here:

The singer could only remember the last two lines of one verse:

And wondered how so fair a flower
Could bloom and flourish there

The story is of a man who murdered a girl of whom he wished to rid himself. From her grave grew a magic flower which bloomed continually, a new flower growing immediately one had been plucked. But when the murderer plucked a blossom it turned to blood in his hands, and so his guilt was discovered. It was extraordinary that Mr Sanford recollected the tune perfectly and was able to sing it to me without the words. - D.H.S.

Keep this for the Journal, words might be found later. - F.K.

A hexatonic tune, very Irish, like others in this collection. - A.M.F.

The middle section is very reminiscent of 'Granuaile' though the rhythm is different. - P.N.S-S.

Words should surely be discoverable, as the story is of a stock type, and of a kind which often found literary preservation from the Middle Ages onwards. Cp. the story, made famous by Boccaccio and Keats, of Isabella and the Pot of Basil of which the Jounral contains many versions, either prototype or deriviative. - Ed.


KEY TO NAMES


D.H.S.Doreen H Senior
F.K.Frederick Keel
A.M.F.A. Martin Freeman
P.N.S-S.P. N. Shuldham-Shaw
Ed.Miss M. J. Dean-Smith.



Databse entry is here.



Edited By dmcg - 23-Jan-2004 01:45:26 PM




dmcg

Posted - 23 Jan 04 - 02:05 pm

There are a number of tunes, stories, etc., that experts on folk music always seem to use as reference that mere mortals may not have come across. I remember being baffled by the number of references to "Villikins and his Dinah" when I was twenty or so. Another of these is "Isabella and the Pot of Basil". A web search will find Keats' poem quite easily, but I cannot find a (working!) copy of the Decameron story it is based on. This is the story told by Filomena (4th Day, fifth story). I will scan it in if people are interested.



Edited By dmcg - 23-Jan-2004 02:06:13 PM




Jon Freeman

Posted - 23 Jan 04 - 02:30 pm

I for one would be interested.

Jon




dmcg

Posted - 23 Jan 04 - 02:35 pm

NOVEL V
Lisabetta's brothers slay her lover : he appears to her in a dream and shews her where he is buried: she privily disinters head, and sets it in a pot of basil, whereon she daily weeps a great while. The pot being taken from her by her brothers she dies not long after.

ELISA'S story ended, the king bestowed a few words of praise upon it, and then laid the burden of discourse upon Filomena who, full of compassion for the woes of Gerbino and his lady, heaved a piteous sigh, and thus began:?My story, gracious ladies, will not be of folk of so high a rank as those of whom. Elisa has told us, but perchance 'twill not be less touching. ?Tis brought to my mind by the recent mention of Messina, where the matter befell.

Know then that there were at Messina three young men that were brothers and merchants, who were left very rich on the death of their father, who was of San Gimignano; and they had a sister, Lisabetta by name, a girl fair enough, and no less debonair, but whom, for some reason or another, they had not as yet bestowed in marriage. The three brothers had also in their shop a young Pisan, Lorenzo by name, who managed all their affairs, and who was so goodly of person and gallant, that Isabetta bestowed many a glance upon him, and began to regard him with extraordinary favour; which Lorenzo marking from time to time, gave up all his other amours, and in like manner began to affect her, and so, their loves being equal, 'twas not long before they took heart of grace, and did that which each most desired. Wherein continuing to their no small mutual solace and delight, they neglected to order it with due secrecy, whereby one night as Lisabetta was going to Lorenzo's room, she, all unwitting, was observed by the eldest of the brothers, who, albeit much distressed by what he had learnt, yet, being a young man of discretion, was swayed by considerations more seemly, and, allowing no word to escape him, spent the night in turning the affair over in his mind in divers ways. On the morrow he told his brothers that which, touching Lisabetta and Lorenzo, he had observed in the night, which, that no shame might thence ensue either to them or to their sister, they after long consultation determined to pass over in silence, making as if they had seen or heard nought thereof, until such time as they in a safe and convenient manner might banish this disgrace from their sight before it could go further. Adhering to which purpose, they jested and laughed with Lorenzo as they had been wont; and after a while pretending that they were all three going forth of the city on pleasure, they took Lorenzo with them; and being come to a remote and very lonely spot, seeing that 'twas apt for their design, they took Lorenzo, who was completely off his guard, and slew him, and buried him on such wise that none was ware of it. On their return to Messina they gave out that they had sent him away on business ; which was readily believed, because 'twas what they had been frequently used to do. But as Lorenzo did not return, and Lisabetta questioned the brothers about him with great frequency and urgency, being sorely prieved by his long absence, it so befell that one day, when she was very pressing in her enquiries, one of the brothers said :? " What means this ? What hast thou to do with Lorenzo, that thou shouldst ask about him so often ? Ask us no more, or we will give thee such answer as thou deservest." So the girl, sick at heart and sorrowful, fearing she knew not what, asked no questions; but many a time at night she called piteously to him, and besought him to come to her, and bewailed his long tarrying with many a tear, and ever yearning for his return, languished in total dejection.
But so it was that one night, when, after long weeping that her Lorenzo came not back, she had at last fallen asleep, Lorenzo appeared to her in a dream, wan and in utter disarray, his clothes torn to shreds and sodden ; and thus, as she thought, he spoke :?" Lisabetta, thou dost nought but call me, and vex thyself for my long tarrying, and bitterly upbraid me with thy tears ; wherefore be it known to thee that return to I may not, because the last day that thou didst see me thy brothers slew me." After which, he described the place where they had buried him, told her to call and expect him no more and vanished. The girl then awoke, and doubting not the vision was true, wept bitterly. And when morning came and she was risen, not daring to say aught to her brothers resolved to go to the place indicated in the vision, and see if that she had dreamed were even as it had appeared to So, having leave to go a little way out of the city for recreation in company with a maid that had at one time lived with them and knew all that she did, she hied her thither with all speed and having removed the dry leaves that were strewn about the place, she began to dig where the earth seemed least hard. Nor had she dug long, before she found the body of her hapless lover, whereon as yet there was no trace of corruption or decay; and thus she saw without any manner of doubt that her vision was true. And so, saddest of women, knowing that she might not bewail him there, she would gladly, if she could, carried away the body and given it more honourable sepulture elsewhere; but as she might not so do, she took a knife, as best she could, severed the head from the trunk, and wrapped it in a napkin and laid it in the lap of her maid; and having covered the rest of the corpse with earth, she left the spot having been seen by none, and went home. There she shut herself up in her room with the head, and kissed it a thousand times in every part, and wept long and bitterly over it till she had bathed it in her tears. She then wrapped it in a piece of fine cloth, and set it in a large and beautiful pot of the sort in which marjoram or basil is planted, and covered it with earth, and therein planted some roots of the goodliest basil of Salerno, and drenched them only with her tears, or water perfumed with roses or orange-blossoms. And 'twas her wont ever to sit beside this pot, and, all her soul one yearning; to pore upon it, as that which enshrined her Lorenzo, and when long time she had so done, she would bend over it, and weep a great while, until the basil was quite bathed in her tears.
Fostered with such constant, unremitting care, and nourished by the richness given to the soil by the decaying head that lay therein, the basil burgeoned out in exceeding great beauty and fragrance. And, the girl persevering ever in this way of life, the neighbours from time to time took note of it, and when her brothers marvelled to see her beauty ruined, and her eyes as it were evanished from her head, they told them of it, saying :? " We have observed that such is her daily wont." Whereupon the brothers, marking her behaviour, chid her therefore once or twice, and as she heeded them not, caused the pot to be taken privily from her. Which, so soon as she missed it, she demanded with the utmost instance and insistence, and, us they gave it not back to her, ceased not to wail and weep, insomuch that she fell sick; nor in her sickness craved she aught but the pot of basil. Whereat the young men, marvelling mightily, resolved to see what the pot might contain ; and having removed the earth they espied the cloth, and therein the head, which was not yet so decayed, but that by the curled locks they knew it for Lorenzo's head. Passing strange they found it, and fearing lest it should be bruited abroad, they buried the head, and, with as little said as might be, took order for their privy departure from Messina, and hied them thence to Naples. The girl ceased not to weep and crave her pot, and, so weeping, died. Such was the end of her disastrous love ; but not a few in course of time coming to know the truth of the affair, there was one that made the song that is still sung :
to wit:?
A thief he was, I swear, A sorry Christian he,
That took my basil of Salerno fair, etc.!


Edited By dmcg - 23-Jan-2004 02:57:40 PM




Jon Freeman

Posted - 23 Jan 04 - 02:53 pm

Thanks




dmcg

Posted - 23 Jan 04 - 03:00 pm

No problem. There was a 'not' missing early on that I have fixed (... was NOT yet bestowed in marriage ...)

I should have pointed out that Bruton Town is another version of this story.




Pip Freeman

Posted - 23 Jan 04 - 07:13 pm

Thank you Dave, a gruesome and fascinating tale, I have also just read Keat's poem. Growing basil will never be quite the same!


Mary in Kentucky

Posted - 10 Feb 04 - 03:05 am

Same here, Pip!

Why is a hexatonic tune Irish? Are many Irish tunes hexatonic?






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