and dreads imposture. This situation, with features curiously like those of the meeting of Odysseus and Penelope, is found in the folk-lore of China. Penelope, Germaine, and the Chinese lady are all incredulous and demand a sign.
"Loyez, loyez, Germaine,
Pour Dieu, votre mari!
Encor n'y croirais-je pas
Que vous êtes mon mari
On Men vous me direz
Quel jour je fus epousée.
J'ai epousé Germaine
Le matin, le lundi.
Encor ne croirais-je pas
Que vous êtes mon mari,
Ou bien vous me direz,
Ce qui m'est arrivé.
C'est arrivé, Germaine,
Que votre anneau rompit;
En voila la moitié,
Montre la votre aussi.
Ouvrez, ouvrez, Germaine,
Ouvrez à votre ami."
Ὧς ἅρ ἔφη πόσιος πειρωμένη, we might go on, in the words of the scene of recognition in the Odyssey (xxiii. 181). We may be tolerably sure that the return of Odysseus to Penelope was the theme of a rustic lay like Germaine, among the early Achæans, before the author of the Odyssey made it the chief thread in his divine poem. Folksongs indeed are the "wild stock" whence the epic and the artistic lyric sprang. They are far older than the most ancient poetry of Greece, just as the wild white rose represents an earlier type of flowers than the complex blossoms of the garden. In a volume which I have not seen, but which is quoted by M. de Puymaigre, the modern Romaic lay on the return of the husband is printed (Chants Populaires de la Grèce, translated by Marcellus). The motive is found in Tyrolese and German ballads. One may remark, in taking leave of Germaine, that it contains a trait of very primitive hospitality, well known to the student of savage manners. Survivals of that sort are rather rare in
