oks with dread on the use that may be made of one's name by an
enemy,--a stage of thought in which the fairy might naturally fear for a
man of another race, albeit her husband, to become possessed of her real
name. What else can we infer from the evident terror and grief with
which the captive ladies hear their names from their suitors' lips? It
is clear that the knowledge of the fairy's name conferred power over her
which she was unable to resist. This is surely the interpretation also
of the Danish tale of a man from whom a Hill-troll had stolen no fewer
than three wives. Riding home late one night afterwards, he saw a great
crowd of Hill-folk dancing and making merry; and among them he
recognized his three wives. One of these was Kirsten, his best beloved,
and he called out to her and named her name. The troll, whose name was
Skynd, or Hurry, came up to him and asked him why he presumed to call
Kirsten. The man explained that she had been his favourite wife, and
begged him with tears to give her back to him. The troll at last
consented, but with the proviso that he should never hurry (_skynde_)
her. For a long time the condition was observed; but one day, as she was
delayed in fetching something for her husband from the loft, he cried
out to her: "Make haste (_skynde dig_), Kirsten!" And he had hardly
spoken the words when the woman was gone, compelled to return to the
troll's abode. Here we have the phenomenon in a double form; for not
only does the husband regain his wife from the troll by pronouncing her
name, but he loses her once more by inadvertently summoning her captor.
It is a German superstition that a mara, or nightmare, can be
effectually exorcised if the sufferer surmises who it is, and instantly
addresses it by name.[221] We can now understand how, in the
Carmarthenshire story mentioned in Chapter VII., the farmer was rescued
from the fairies under whose spell he had been for twelve months. A man
caught sight of him dancing on the mountain and broke the spell by
speaking to him. It must have been the utterance of his name that drew
him out of the enchanted circle.

Returning, however, to the legend of Wastin, we may observe how much
narrower and less likely to be infringed is the taboo imposed on him
than that imposed on the youth of Blaensawdde. Yet the lady of the Van
Pool, whatever her practice, had in theory some relics of old-fashioned
wifely duty. She did not object to the chastisement which the la