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pendently crossed the sea with the early settlers; one of these 
took root on the Atlantic coast with the Acadians, and the 
other up the St. Lawrence in the neighbourhood of Quebec. 
That the song at the time of its migration into America was 
already old and decadent, is obvious. It clearly belongs to a 
stock older than “Le Prince Eugene,” “The Three Poisoned 
Roses”, and “The Prince of Orange”, which are sixteenth century 
songs. The melody (No. 1 , Dorion) from Acadia is different 
from those of Quebec, which are quite varied. 
The song of Dame Lombarde must have sojourned in northern 
France — Normandy and the Loire river — for generations before 
its versions became diversified as they were at the time of their 
exodus to Canada, in the seventeenth century. Its origin long 
antedates Francois I, whose reign coincides with the discovery 
of the New World. For, in so little time, less than a century, 
it could not become popular in northern Italy, cross the Alps, 
spread to southern French ( langue d oc), invade the dialects of 
oil, in northern France, and then, already divided in two and 
widely assimilated, sail the seas to the St. Lawrence. Were 
that possible, it is unlikely that historical facts as recent and 
well known would have been so utterly distorted. Francois I 
could not have known the legendary Dame Lombarde of the 
complainte , still less figure with her in a notorious poison affair 
long since forgotten outside of the already existing song. 
The last line of the Italian versions “For the love of the 
King of France I die” is a belated alteration, an afterthought 
prompted by subsequent events, as often happens in folk-songs. 
It may not even be contemporaneous with Francois I, as other 
kings of France before him had entered Italy. 
Doncieux’ knowledge of the French distribution of Dame 
Lombarde was insufficient; the Canadian versions had not yet 
been collected, nor the three variants since discovered by Millien 
( Chants et Chansons . . . Nivernais, I, 94-97) in northern France. 
His excuse to include the Italian complainte in his Romancer o 
was the only southern French version found in the Alps; and 
the text, which he gives first, is a translation from the Italian. 
Our Canadian song does not allude to the French king; it 
concludes with the words: “Cursed be the neighbour who 
taught me . . . !” or “the nightingale ...” In this it stands 
