Mr. Dowe is quite mistaken in supposing that he has given the real Irish words, of which this is a corruption. His line will not fit, as it must be of no more than seven or eight syllables; being, of which he seems not aware, the burden of an English song of the four-foot measure:—
"When as I view your comely grace."
"Collino castoré me."
In the old copies this is printed Calmie custure me; but Malone discovered the song, and gave the passage as it stands now, and got from an Irish teacher, of the name of Finnerty, the following translation — "Little girl of my heart for ever and ever" — of which the two first words alone are right. How Finnerty got the "for ever and ever," I am unable to guess; but he seems to have had an indistinct idea of the true meaning of the whole. I presume the real Irish may have been—
"Colleen óg a stór mo chree."
(Cailin óg an stór mo ċroiḋe.)
"Young girl, the treasure of my heart."
In Love's Labour's Lost (Act III. Sc. 1.), Armado says, "Warble child," &c.; and Moth begins, "Concolinel." This we are told is some Italian song which cannot now be discovered; but surely no Italian song began with Con colonello, the only Italian words that would agree with it. My own opinion is, that it is Irish, the second and third syllables being the Irish Colleen (cailin); and if, with my very slight knowledge of Irish, I might venture to give a guess at the original of the whole, I would say it was "Do'n colleen alwin" (do’n cailin áluin) "To the lovely girl," — the printer giving C for D. This conjecture, however, I give under correction; it may perhaps lead some better Irish scholar than myself to a more probable solution.
Dutch Tragedy of Barneveldt (2nd S. x. 472. 518.) — I can inform F. H. that this tragedy is by the celebrated poet Vondel. Its title is Palamedes, oft Vermoorde Onnooselheyd ("P. or Murdered Innocence"), alluding to the murder of Barneveldt. The poet was fined 300 florins, and had to take flight. Thirty editions were sold in a few years.K.
Doldrum, King of the Cats (1st S. vi. 70.; 2nd S. x. 463.) — This tale is told in Ireland also, "with a difference" which makes it somewhat more poetical. [By the bye, Doldrum, not Dildrum, was the Lancashire cat-king: in these days of dynastic vicissitude, "N. & Q." should be especially correct about royal matters; posterity might be puzzled else.] A county-of-Meath farmer was riding home at nightfall, when, in hastening past a suspicious-looking churchyard, a cat jumped from the wall on his horse's back, clawed up his shoulder, and whispered in his ear: "Go home, and tell Maud that Maudlin is dead." Home he sped; and taking off his boots at the kitchen fire, where his own cat gravely superintended the operation—"I have just had a beautiful fright, my woman," says he; "I was bid to go home and tell you, Maud, that Maudlin is dead." Into the middle of the room jumps she; sets up her back and likewise a terrible howl, dashes through the window, and was never seen or heard of from that hour. Maudlin, I suppose, was the Irish Queen of the Cats, or at least the Lady-Lieutenant; and Maud was, perhaps, one of her Maids of Honour. Any how, the story is religiously believed in Ireland by every truePusseyite.
This is a Scandinavian legend, probably, like some others, brought in by the Danes. Its more complete form will be found in the legend of "The Troll turned Cat," one of the Scandinavian legends in the Fairy Mythology.K.
Separation of Sexes in Churches (2nd S. vii. 326., &c.) — Allow me to add to the list of churches where this custom is observed: Coton, Cambridgeshire; Stanton Harcourt, Oxfordshire; and Durham Cathedral.
"The custom (says The Ecclesiologist, vol. v. p. 166.) — continued in St. Pratt, Blisland, Cornwall, even after peus had superseded open seats; and so natural was the feeling, that when a conventicle was opened about thirty years ago in the parish, the men and women arranged themselves on opposite sides, and have continued the practice!"
G. W. M.
Irish Manufactures (2nd S. x. 510.) — I take leave of "N. & Q.'s" delightful Tenth Volume, expecting no less delight in its Eleventh, with a pendant to this scaffoldish story.
In 1814, when the French Legion of Honour was under discussion among the revolutionary embarrassments of the Restoration, somebody (whose name, he being yet surviving, it is as well not to set down) suggested that its decoration should be sported by the Exécuteur de la Haute Justice on the first guillotining day.
During the last half-century I have read Irish speeches, and letters, and pamphlets enough to bring in question my countrymen's antipathy to "flowered fustian."Old Mem.
Smytanites (2nd S. x. 518.) —In answer to Inquisition, Mr. Smytan was an Antiburgher minister at Kilmaurs, Ayrshire; and a dispute having arisen between him and his associate brethren about lifting the whole bread to be used in the sacrament, and holding it during the prayer of consecration, Mr. Smytan refused to hold communion with those who continued the old practice of lifting a portion, and the synod expelled and deposed him. It then became a ques-