from the beginning of the world, it may be done tomorrow morning,
and by somebody who has never heard of William Tell.

This type of tale, indeed, may be pretty fairly paralleled with
the ordinary anecdote terminating in a repartee or an Irish bull.
Such a retort as the famous "je ne vois pas la necessite" we have
all seen attributed to Talleyrand, to Voltaire, to Henri Quatre,
to an anonymous judge, and so on. But this variety does not in any
way make it more likely that the thing was never said at all.
It is highly likely that it was really said by somebody unknown.
It is highly likely that it was really said by Talleyrand.
In any case, it is not any more difficult to believe that the mot might
have occurred to a man in conversation than to a man writing memoirs.
It might have occurred to any of the men I have mentioned.
But there is this point of distinction about it, that it
is not likely to have occurred to all of them. And this is
where the first class of so-called myth differs from the second
to which I have previously referred. For there is a second class
of incident found to be common to the stories of five or six heroes,
say to Sigurd, to Hercules, to Rustem, to the Cid, and so on.
And the peculiarity of this myth is that not only is it highly
reasonable to imagine that it really happened to one hero, but it is
highly reasonable to imagine that it really happened to all of them.
Such a story, for instance, is that of a great man having his
strength swayed or thwarted by the mysterious weakness of a woman.
The anecdotal story, the story of William Tell, is as I
have said, popular, because it is peculiar. But this kind of story,
the story of Samson and Delilah of Arthur and Guinevere, is obviously
popular because it is not peculiar. It is popular as good,
quiet fiction is popular, because it tells the truth about people.