Birds call out in human voice as they pass, What wonder is this, the living travelling with the dead! (Thrice in Romaic, 9, 10, and the Albanian tale, twice in Romaic 13.) The sister asks Constantine if he hears what the birds are saying; he hears, they are birds, let them talk. They near their mother’s house; a church is hard by. Constantine bids his sister go on; he must say a prayer in the church, or pay a votive candle, find a ring which he lost there, see to his horse; he disappears. The house is locked, the windows shut, there is every sign of desolation and neglect. The daughter knocks; the mother, from within, cries, Avaunt, Death! I have no more children! The daughter cries, It is I.[59] Who brought you? Constantine. Constantine is dead; (has been dead three days, forty days, five months, twelve years!) The mother opens, they die in a mutual embrace (the mother dies, one dies within, one without). ‘Le Frère de Lait,’ Villemarqué, Barzaz Breiz, No 22, p. 163, ed. 1867, has no claim to be associated with these ballads, the only feature in which it has similarity not being genuine. Compare ‘La Femme aux deux Maris,’ Luzel, Gwerziou Breiz-Izel, I, 266-71, two versions, and II, 165-69, two more; and see Luzel, De l’authenticité des chants du Barzaz-Breiz, p. 39. 1 A wonder stranger ne’r was known Then what I now shall treat upon. In Suffolk there did lately dwell A farmer rich and known full well. 2 He had a daughter fair and bright, On whom he plac’d his chief delight; Her beauty was beyond compare, She was both virtuous and fair. 3 A young man there was living by, Who was so charmëd with her eye That he could never be at rest, He was with love so much possest. 4 He made address to her, and she Did grant him love immediately; Which when her father came to hear, He parted her and her poor dear. 5 Forty miles distant was she sent, Unto his brother’s, with intent That she should there so long remain Till she had chang’d her mind again. 6 Hereat this young man sadly grievd, But knew not how to be relievd; He sighd and sobd continually That his true love he could not see. 7 She by no means could to him send Who was her heart’s espousëd friend; He sighd, she grievd, but all in vain, For she confin’d must still remain. 8 He mournd so much that doctor’s art Could give no ease unto his heart; Who was so strang[e]ly terrified, That in short time for love he dyed. 9 She that from him was sent away Knew nothing of his dying-day, But constant still she did remain; To love the dead was then in vain. 10 After he had in grave been laid A month or more, unto this maid He comes about middle of the night, Who joyd to see her heart’s delight.