The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
THE
RED FAIRY BOOK
Edited
by ANDREW LANG
London:
Longmans, Green
[1890]
TO
MASTER BILLY TREMAYNE MILES
A
PROFOUND STUDENT YET AN AMIABLE CRITIC
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
CONTENTS
[*Preface]
[*The
Twelve Dancing Princesses]
[*The
Princess Mayblossom]
[*Soria
Moria Castle]
[*The
Death of Koschei the Deathless]
[*The
Black Thief and Knight of the Glen]
[*The
Master Thief]
[*Brother
and Sister]
[*Princess
Rosette]
[*The
Enchanted Pig]
[*The
Norka]
[*The
Wonderful Birch]
[*Jack
and the Beanstalk]
[*The
Little Good Mouse]
[*Graciosa
and Percinet]
[*The
Three Princesses of Whiteland]
[*The
Voice of Death]
[*The
Six Sillies]
[*Kari
Woodengown]
[*Drakestail]
[*The
Ratcatcher]
[*The
True History of Little Goldenhood]
[*The
Golden Branch]
[*The
Three Dwarfs]
[*Dapplegrim]
[*The
Enchanted Canary]
[*The
Twelve Brothers]
[*Rapunzel]
[*The
Nettle Spinner]
[*Farmer
Weatherbeard]
[*Mother
Holle]
[*Minnikin]
[*Bushy
Bride]
[*Snowdrop]
[*The
Golden Goose]
[*The
Seven Foals]
[*The
Marvellous Musician]
[*The
Story of Sigurd]
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f00]
PREFACE
IN
a second gleaning of the fields of Fairy Land we cannot expect to find a second
Perrault. But there are good stories enough left, and it is hoped that some in
the Red Fairy Book may have the attraction of being less familiar than many of
the old friends. The tales have been translated, or, in the case of those from
Madame d'Aulnoy's long stories, adapted, by Mrs. Hunt from the Norse, by Miss
Minnie Wright from Madame d'Aulnoy, by Mrs. Lang and Miss Bruce from other
French sources, by Miss May Sellar, Miss Farquharson, and Miss Blackley from
the German, while the story of `Sigurd' is condensed by the Editor from Mr.
William Morris's prose version of the `Volsunga Saga.' The Editor has to thank
his friend, M. Charles Marelles, for permission to reproduce his versions of
the `Pied Piper,' of `Drakestail,' and of `Little Golden Hood' from the French,
and M. Henri Carnoy for the same privilege in regard to `The Six Sillies' from
La Tradition.
Lady
Frances Balfour has kindly copied an old version of `Jack and the Beanstalk,'
and Messrs. Smith and Elder have permitted the publication of two of Mr.
Ralston's versions from the Russian.
A.
L.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f01]
THE
TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES
I
ONCE
upon a time there lived in the village of Montignies-sur-Roc a little cow-boy,
without either father or mother. His real name was Michael, but he was always
called the Star Gazer, because when he drove his cows over the commons to seek
for pasture, he went along with his head in the air, gaping at nothing.
As
he had a white skin, blue eyes, and hair that curled all over his head, the
village girls used to cry after him, `Well, Star Gazer, what are you doing?'
and Michael would answer, `Oh, nothing,' and go on his way without even turning
to look at them.
The
fact was he thought them very ugly, with their sun-burnt necks, their great red
hands, their coarse petticoats and their wooden shoes. He had heard that
somewhere in the world there were girls whose necks were white and whose hands
were small, who were always dressed in the finest silks and laces, and were
called princesses, and while his companions round the fire saw nothing in the
flames but common everyday fancies, he dreamed that he had the happiness to
marry a princess.
II
One
morning about the middle of August, just at mid-day when the sun was hottest,
Michael ate his dinner of a piece of dry bread, and went to sleep under an oak.
And while he slept he dreamt that there appeared before him a beautiful lady,
dressed in a robe of cloth of gold, who said to him: `Go to the castle of
Beloeil, and there you shall marry a princess.'
That
evening the little cow-boy, who had been thinking a great deal about the advice
of the lady in the golden dress, told his dream to the farm people. But, as was
natural, they only laughed at the Star Gazer.
The
next day at the same hour he went to sleep again under the same tree. The lady
appeared to him a second time, and said: `Go to the castle of Beloeil, and you
shall marry a princess.'
In
the evening Michael told his friends that he had dreamed the same dream again,
but they only laughed at him more than before. `Never mind,' he thought to
himself; `if the lady appears to me a third time, I will do as she tells me.'
The
following day, to the great astonishment of all the village, about two o'clock
in the afternoon a voice was heard singing:
`Raleo,
raleo, How the cattle go!'
It
was the little cow-boy driving his herd back to the byre.
The
farmer began to scold him furiously, but he answered quietly, `I am going
away,' made his clothes into a bundle, said good-bye to all his friends, and
boldly set out to seek his fortunes.
There
was great excitement through all the village, and on the top of the hill the
people stood holding their sides with laughing, as they watched the Star Gazer
trudging bravely along the valley with his bundle at the end of his stick.
It
was enough to make anyone laugh, certainly.
III
It
was well known for full twenty miles round that there lived in the castle of
Beloeil twelve princesses of wonderful beauty, and as proud as they were
beautiful, and who were besides so very sensitive and of such truly royal
blood, that they would have felt at once the presence of a pea in their beds,
even if the mattresses had been laid over it.
It
was whispered about that they led exactly the lives that princesses ought to
lead, sleeping far into the morning, and never getting up till mid-day. They
had twelve beds all in the same room, but what was very extraordinary was the
fact that though they were locked in by triple bolts, every morning their satin
shoes were found worn into holes.
When
they were asked what they had been doing all night, they always answered that
they had been asleep; and, indeed, no noise was ever heard in the room, yet the
shoes could not wear themselves out alone!
At
last the Duke of Beloeil ordered the trumpet to be sounded, and a proclamation
to be made that whoever could discover how his daughters wore out their shoes
should choose one of them for his wife.
On
hearing the proclamation a number of princes arrived at the castle to try their
luck. They watched all night behind the open door of the princesses, but when
the morning came they had all disappeared, and no one could tell what had
become of them.
IV
When
he reached the castle, Michael went straight to the gardener and offered his
services. Now it happened that the garden boy had just been sent away, and
though the Star Gazer did not look very sturdy, the gardener agreed to take
him, as he thought that his pretty face and golden curls would please the
princesses.
The
first thing he was told was that when the princesses got up he was to present
each one with a bouquet, and Michael thought that if he had nothing more
unpleasant to do than that he should get on very well.
Accordingly
he placed himself behind the door of the princesses' room, with the twelve
bouquets in a basket. He gave one to each of the sisters, and they took them
without even deigning to look at the lad, except Lina the youngest, who fixed
her large black eyes as soft as velvet on him, and exclaimed, `Oh, how pretty
he is--our new flower boy!' The rest all burst out laughing, and the eldest
pointed out that a princess ought never to lower herself by looking at a garden
boy.
Now
Michael knew quite well what had happened to all the princes, but
notwithstanding, the beautiful eyes of the Princess Lina inspired him with a
violent longing to try his fate. Unhappily he did not dare to come forward,
being afraid that he should only be jeered at, or even turned away from the
castle on account of his impudence.
V
Nevertheless,
the Star Gazer had another dream. The lady in the golden dress appeared to him
once more, holding in one hand two young laurel trees, a cherry laurel and a
rose laurel, and in the other hand a little golden rake, a little golden
bucket, and a silken towel. She thus addressed him:
`Plant
these two laurels in two large pots, rake them over with the rake, water them
with the bucket, and wipe them with the towel. When they have grown as tall as
a girl of fifteen, say to each of them, ``My beautiful laurel, with the golden
rake I have raked you, with the golden bucket I have watered you, with the
silken towel I have wiped you.'' Then after that ask anything you choose, and
the laurels will give it to you.'
Michael
thanked the lady in the golden dress, and when he woke he found the two laurel
bushes beside him. So he carefully obeyed the orders he had been given by the
lady.
The
trees grew very fast, and when they were as tall as a girl of fifteen he said
to the cherry laurel, `My lovely cherry laurel, with the golden rake I have
raked thee, with the golden bucket I have watered thee, with the silken towel I
have wiped thee. Teach me how to become invisible.' Then there instantly
appeared on the laurel a pretty white flower, which Michael gathered and stuck
into his button-hole.
VI
That
evening, when the princesses went upstairs to bed, he followed them barefoot,
so that he might make no noise, and hid himself under one of the twelve beds,
so as not to take up much room.
The
princesses began at once to open their wardrobes and boxes. They took out of
them the most magnificent dresses, which they put on before their mirrors, and
when they had finished, turned themselves all round to admire their
appearances.
Michael
could see nothing from his hiding-place, but he could hear everything, and he
listened to the princesses laughing and jumping with pleasure. At last the
eldest said, `Be quick, my sisters, our partners will be impatient.' At the end
of an hour, when the Star Gazer heard no more noise, he peeped out and saw the
twelve sisters in splendid garments, with their satin shoes on their feet, and
in their hands the bouquets he had brought them.
`Are
you ready?' asked the eldest.
`Yes,'
replied the other eleven in chorus, and they took their places one by one
behind her.
Then
the eldest Princess clapped her hands three times and a trap door opened. All
the princesses disappeared down a secret staircase, and Michael hastily
followed them.
As
he was following on the steps of the Princess Lina, he carelessly trod on her
dress.
`There
is somebody behind me,' cried the Princess; `they are holding my dress.'
`You
foolish thing,' said her eldest sister, `you are always afraid of something. It
is only a nail which caught you.'
VII
They
went down, down, down, till at last they came to a passage with a door at one
end, which was only fastened with a latch. The eldest Princess opened it, and
they found themselves immediately in a lovely little wood, where the leaves
were spangled with drops of silver which shone in the brilliant light of the
moon.
They
next crossed another wood where the leaves were sprinkled with gold, and after
that another still, where the leaves glittered with diamonds.
At
last the Star Gazer perceived a large lake, and on the shores of the lake
twelve little boats with awnings, in which were seated twelve princes, who,
grasping their oars, awaited the princesses.
Each
princess entered one of the boats, and Michael slipped into that which held the
youngest. The boats glided along rapidly, but Lina's, from being heavier, was
always behind the rest. `We never went so slowly before,' said the Princess;
`what can be the reason?'
`I
don't know,' answered the Prince. `I assure you I am rowing as hard as I can.'
On
the other side of the lake the garden boy saw a beautiful castle splendidly
illuminated, whence came the lively music of fiddles, kettle-drums, and
trumpets.
In
a moment they touched land, and the company jumped out of the boats; and the
princes, after having securely fastened their barques, gave their arms to the
princesses and conducted them to the castle.
VIII
Michael
followed, and entered the ball-room in their train. Everywhere were mirrors,
lights, flowers, and damask hangings.
The
Star Gazer was quite bewildered at the magnificence of the sight.
He
placed himself out of the way in a corner, admiring the grace and beauty of the
princesses. Their loveliness was of every kind. Some were fair and some were
dark; some had chestnut hair, or curls darker still, and some had golden locks.
Never were so many beautiful princesses seen together at one time, but the one
whom the cow-boy thought the most beautiful and the most fascinating was the
little Princess with the velvet eyes.
With
what eagerness she danced! leaning on her partner's shoulder she swept by like
a whirlwind. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and it was plain that she
loved dancing better than anything else.
The
poor boy envied those handsome young men with whom she danced so gracefully,
but he did not know how little reason he had to be jealous of them.
The
young men were really the princes who, to the number of fifty at least, had
tried to steal the princesses' secret. The princesses had made them drink
something of a philtre, which froze the heart and left nothing but the love of
dancing.
IX
They
danced on till the shoes of the princesses were worn into holes. When the cock
crowed the third time the fiddles stopped, and a delicious supper was served by
negro boys, consisting of sugared orange flowers, crystallised rose leaves,
powdered violets, cracknels, wafers, and other dishes, which are, as everyone
knows, the favourite food of princesses.
After
supper, the dancers all went back to their boats, and this time the Star Gazer
entered that of the eldest Princess. They crossed again the wood with the
diamond-spangled leaves, the wood with gold-sprinkled leaves, and the wood
whose leaves glittered with drops of silver, and as a proof of what he had
seen, the boy broke a small branch from a tree in the last wood. Lina turned as
she heard the noise made by the breaking of the branch.
`What
was that noise?' she said.
`It
was nothing,' replied her eldest sister; `it was only the screech of the
barn-owl that roosts in one of the turrets of the castle.'
While
she was speaking Michael managed to slip in front, and running up the
staircase, he reached the princesses' room first. He flung open the window, and
sliding down the vine which climbed up the wall, found himself in the garden
just as the sun was beginning to rise, and it was time for him to set to his
work.
X
That
day, when he made up the bouquets, Michael hid the branch with the silver drops
in the nosegay intended for the youngest Princess.
When
Lina discovered it she was much surprised. However, she said nothing to her
sisters, but as she met the boy by accident while she was walking under the
shade of the elms, she suddenly stopped as if to speak to him; then, altering
her mind, went on her way.
The
same evening the twelve sisters went again to the ball, and the Star Gazer
again followed them and crossed the lake in Lina's boat. This time it was the
Prince who complained that the boat seemed very heavy.
`It
is the heat,' replied the Princess. `I, too, have been feeling very warm.'
During
the ball she looked everywhere for the gardener's boy, but she never saw him.
As
they came back, Michael gathered a branch from the wood with the gold-spangled
leaves, and now it was the eldest Princess who heard the noise that it made in
breaking.
`It
is nothing,' said Lina; `only the cry of the owl which roosts in the turrets of
the castle.'
XI
As
soon as she got up she found the branch in her bouquet. When the sisters went
down she stayed a little behind and said to the cow-boy: `Where does this
branch come from?'
`Your
Royal Highness knows well enough,' answered Michael.
`So
you have followed us?'
`Yes,
Princess.'
`How
did you manage it? we never saw you.'
`I
hid myself,' replied the Star Gazer quietly.
The
Princess was silent a moment, and then said:
`You
know our secret!--keep it. Here is the reward of your discretion.' And she
flung the boy a purse of gold.
`I
do not sell my silence,' answered Michael, and he went away without picking up
the purse.
For
three nights Lina neither saw nor heard anything extraordinary; on the fourth
she heard a rustling among the diamond-spangled leaves of the wood. That day
there was a branch of the trees in her bouquet.
She
took the Star Gazer aside, and said to him in a harsh voice:
`You
know what price my father has promised to pay for our secret?'
`I
know, Princess,' answered Michael.
`Don't
you mean to tell him?'
`That
is not my intention.'
`Are
you afraid?'
`No,
Princess.'
`What
makes you so discreet, then?'
But
Michael was silent.
XII
Lina's
sisters had seen her talking to the little garden boy, and jeered at her for
it.
`What
prevents your marrying him?' asked the eldest, `you would become a gardener too;
it is a charming profession. You could live in a cottage at the end of the
park, and help your husband to draw up water from the well, and when we get up
you could bring us our bouquets.'
The
Princess Lina was very angry, and when the Star Gazer presented her bouquet,
she received it in a disdainful manner.
Michael
behaved most respectfully. He never raised his eyes to her, but nearly all day
she felt him at her side without ever seeing him.
One
day she made up her mind to tell everything to her eldest sister.
`What!'
said she, `this rogue knows our secret, and you never told me! I must lose no
time in getting rid of him.'
`But
how?'
`Why,
by having him taken to the tower with the dungeons, of course.'
For
this was the way that in old times beautiful princesses got rid of people who
knew too much.
But
the astonishing part of it was that the youngest sister did not seem at all to
relish this method of stopping the mouth of the gardener's boy, who, after all,
had said nothing to their father.
XIII
It
was agreed that the question should be submitted to the other ten sisters. All
were on the side of the eldest. Then the youngest sister declared that if they
laid a finger on the little garden boy, she would herself go and tell their
father the secret of the holes in their shoes.
At
last it was decided that Michael should be put to the test; that they would
take him to the ball, and at the end of supper would give him the philtre which
was to enchant him like the rest.
They
sent for the Star Gazer, and asked him how he had contrived to learn their
secret; but still he remained silent.
Then,
in commanding tones, the eldest sister gave him the order they had agreed upon.
He
only answered:
`I
will obey.'
He
had really been present, invisible, at the council of princesses, and had heard
all; but he had made up his mind to drink of the philtre, and sacrifice himself
to the happiness of her he loved.
Not
wishing, however, to cut a poor figure at the ball by the side of the other
dancers, he went at once to the laurels, and said:
`My
lovely rose laurel, with the golden rake I have raked thee, with the golden
bucket I have watered thee, with a silken towel I have dried thee. Dress me
like a prince.'
A
beautiful pink flower appeared. Michael gathered it, and found himself in a
moment clothed in velvet, which was as black as the eyes of the little
Princess, with a cap to match, a diamond aigrette, and a blossom of the rose
laurel in his button-hole.
Thus
dressed, he presented himself that evening before the Duke of Beloeil, and
obtained leave to try and discover his daughters' secret. He looked so
distinguished that hardly anyone would have known who he was.
XIV
The
twelve princesses went upstairs to bed. Michael followed them, and waited
behind the open door till they gave the signal for departure.
This
time he did not cross in Lina's boat. He gave his arm to the eldest sister,
danced with each in turn, and was so graceful that everyone was delighted with
him. At last the time came for him to dance with the little Princess. She found
him the best partner in the world, but he did not dare to speak a single word
to her.
When
he was taking her back to her place she said to him in a mocking voice:
`Here
you are at the summit of your wishes: you are being treated like a prince.'
`Don't
be afraid,' replied the Star Gazer gently. `You shall never be a gardener's
wife.'
The
little Princess stared at him with a frightened face, and he left her without
waiting for an answer.
When
the satin slippers were worn through the fiddles stopped, and the negro boys
set the table. Michael was placed next to the eldest sister, and opposite to
the youngest.
They
gave him the most exquisite dishes to eat, and the most delicate wines to
drink; and in order to turn his head more completely, compliments and flattery
were heaped on him from every side.
But
he took care not to be intoxicated, either by the wine or the compliments.
XV
At
last the eldest sister made a sign, and one of the black pages brought in a
large golden cup.
`The
enchanted castle has no more secrets for you,' she said to the Star Gazer. `Let
us drink to your triumph.'
He
cast a lingering glance at the little Princess, and without hesitation lifted
the cup.
`Don't
drink!' suddenly cried out the little Princess; `I would rather marry a
gardener.'
And
she burst into tears.
Michael
flung the contents of the cup behind him, sprang over the table, and fell at
Lina's feet. The rest of the princes fell likewise at the knees of the
princesses, each of whom chose a husband and raised him to her side. The charm
was broken.
The
twelve couples embarked in the boats, which crossed back many times in order to
carry over the other princes. Then they all went through the three woods, and
when they had passed the door of the underground passage a great noise was
heard, as if the enchanted castle was crumbling to the earth.
They
went straight to the room of the Duke of Beloeil, who had just awoke. Michael
held in his hand the golden cup, and he revealed the secret of the holes in the
shoes.
`Choose,
then,' said the Duke, `whichever you prefer.'
`My
choice is already made,' replied the garden boy, and he offered his hand to the
youngest Princess, who blushed and lowered her eyes.
XVI
The
Princess Lina did not become a gardener's wife; on the contrary, it was the
Star Gazer who became a Prince: but before the marriage ceremony the Princess
insisted that her lover should tell her how he came to discover the secret.
So
he showed her the two laurels which had helped him, and she, like a prudent
girl, thinking they gave him too much advantage over his wife, cut them off at
the root and threw them in the fire. And this is why the country girls go about
singing:
Nous
n'irons plus au bois,
Les lauriers sont coupes,'
and
dancing in summer by the light of the moon.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f02]
THE
PRINCESS MAYBLOSSOM
ONCE
upon a time there lived a King and Queen whose children had all died, first one
and then another, until at last only one little daughter remained, and the
Queen was at her wits' end to know where to find a really good nurse who would
take care of her, and bring her up. A herald was sent who blew a trumpet at
every street corner, and commanded all the best nurses to appear before the
Queen, that she might choose one for the little Princess. So on the appointed
day the whole palace was crowded with nurses, who came from the four corners of
the world to offer themselves, until the Queen declared that if she was ever to
see the half of them, they must be brought out to her, one by one, as she sat
in a shady wood near the palace.
This
was accordingly done, and the nurses, after they had made their curtsey to the
King and Queen, ranged themselves in a line before her that she might choose.
Most of them were fair and fat and charming, but there was one who was
dark-skinned and ugly, and spoke a strange language which nobody could
understand. The Queen wondered how she dared offer herself, and she was told to
go away, as she certainly would not do. Upon which she muttered something and
passed on, but hid herself in a hollow tree, from which she could see all that
happened. The Queen, without giving her another thought, chose a pretty
rosy-faced nurse, but no sooner was her choice made than a snake, which was
hidden in the grass, bit that very nurse on her foot, so that she fell down as
if dead. The Queen was very much vexed by this accident, but she soon selected
another, who was just stepping forward when an eagle flew by and dropped a
large tortoise upon her head, which was cracked in pieces like an egg-shell. At
this the Queen was much horrified; nevertheless, she chose a third time, but
with no better fortune, for the nurse, moving quickly, ran into the branch of a
tree and blinded herself with a thorn. Then the Queen in dismay cried that
there must be some malignant influence at work, and that she would choose no
more that day; and she had just risen to return to the palace when she heard
peals of malicious laughter behind her, and turning round saw the ugly stranger
whom she had dismissed, who was making very merry over the disasters and
mocking everyone, but especially the Queen. This annoyed Her Majesty very much,
and she was about to order that she should be arrested, when the witch--for she
was a witch--with two blows from a wand summoned a chariot of fire drawn by
winged dragons, and was whirled off through the air uttering threats and cries.
When the King saw this he cried:
`Alas!
now we are ruined indeed, for that was no other than the Fairy Carabosse, who
has had a grudge against me ever since I was a boy and put sulphur into her
porridge one day for fun.'
Then
the Queen began to cry.
`If
I had only known who it was,' she said, `I would have done my best to make
friends with her; now I suppose all is lost.'
The
King was sorry to have frightened her so much, and proposed that they should go
and hold a council as to what was best to be done to avert the misfortunes
which Carabosse certainly meant to bring upon the little Princess.
So
all the counsellors were summoned to the palace, and when they had shut every
door and window, and stuffed up every keyhole that they might not be overheard,
they talked the affair over, and decided that every fairy for a thousand
leagues round should be invited to the christening of the Princess, and that
the time of the ceremony should be kept a profound secret, in case the Fairy
Carabosse should take it into her head to attend it.
The
Queen and her ladies set to work to prepare presents for the fairies who were
invited: for each one a blue velvet cloak, a petticoat of apricot satin, a pair
of high-heeled shoes, some sharp needles, and a pair of golden scissors. Of all
the fairies the Queen knew, only five were able to come on the day appointed,
but they began immediately to bestow gifts upon the Princess. One promised that
she should be perfectly beautiful, the second that she should understand
anything--no matter what--the first time it was explained to her, the third
that she should sing like a nightingale, the fourth that she should succeed in
everything she undertook, and the fifth was opening her mouth to speak when a
tremendous rumbling was heard in the chimney, and Carabosse, all covered with
soot, came rolling down, crying:
`I
say that she shall be the unluckiest of the unlucky until she is twenty years
old.'
Then
the Queen and all the fairies began to beg and beseech her to think better of
it, and not be so unkind to the poor little Princess, who had never done her
any harm. But the ugly old Fairy only grunted and made no answer. So the last
Fairy, who had not yet given her gift, tried to mend matters by promising the
Princess a long and happy life after the fatal time was over. At this Carabosse
laughed maliciously, and climbed away up the chimney, leaving them all in great
consternation, and especially the Queen. However, she entertained the fairies
splendidly, and gave them beautiful ribbons, of which they are very fond, in
addition to the other presents.
When
they were going away the oldest Fairy said that they were of opinion that it
would be best to shut the Princess up in some place, with her waiting-women, so
that she might not see anyone else until she was twenty years old. So the King
had a tower built on purpose. It had no windows, so it was lighted with wax
candles, and the only way into it was by an underground passage, which had iron
doors only twenty feet apart, and guards were posted everywhere.
The
Princess had been named Mayblossom, because she was as fresh and blooming as
Spring itself, and she grew up tall and beautiful, and everything she did and
said was charming. Every time the King and Queen came to see her they were more
delighted with her than before, but though she was weary of the tower, and
often begged them to take her away from it, they always refused. The Princess's
nurse, who had never left her, sometimes told her about the world outside the
tower, and though the Princess had never seen anything for herself, yet she
always understood exactly, thanks to the second Fairy's gift. Often the King
said to the Queen:
`We
were cleverer than Carabosse after all. Our Mayblossom will be happy in spite
of her predictions.'
And
the Queen laughed until she was tired at the idea of having outwitted the old
Fairy. They had caused the Princess's portrait to be painted and sent to all
the neighbouring Courts, for in four days she would have completed her
twentieth year, and it was time to decide whom she should marry. All the town
was rejoicing at the thought of the Princess's approaching freedom, and when
the news came that King Merlin was sending his ambassador to ask her in
marriage for his son, they were still more delighted. The nurse, who kept the
Princess informed of everything that went forward in the town, did not fail to
repeat the news that so nearly concerned her, and gave such a description of
the splendour in which the ambassador Fanfaronade would enter the town, that
the Princess was wild to see the procession for herself.
`What
an unhappy creature I am,' she cried, `to be shut up in this dismal tower as if
I had committed some crime! I have never seen the sun, or the stars, or a horse,
or a monkey, or a lion, except in pictures, and though the King and Queen tell
me I am to be set free when I am twenty, I believe they only say it to keep me
amused, when they never mean to let me out at all.'
And
then she began to cry, and her nurse, and the nurse's daughter, and the
cradle-rocker, and the nursery-maid, who all loved her dearly, cried too for
company, so that nothing could be heard but sobs and sighs. It was a scene of
woe. When the Princess saw that they all pitied her she made up her mind to
have her own way. So she declared that she would starve herself to death if
they did not find some means of letting her see Fanfaronade's grand entry into
the town.
`If
you really love me,' she said, `you will manage it, somehow or other, and the
King and Queen need never know anything about it.'
Then
the nurse and all the others cried harder than ever, and said everything they
could think of to turn the Princess from her idea. But the more they said the
more determined she was, and at last they consented to make a tiny hole in the
tower on the side that looked towards the city gates.
After
scratching and scraping all day and all night, they presently made a hole
through which they could, with great difficulty, push a very slender needle,
and out of this the Princess looked at the daylight for the first time. She was
so dazzled and delighted by what she saw, that there she stayed, never taking
her eyes away from the peep-hole for a single minute, until presently the
ambassador's procession appeared in sight.
At
the head of it rode Fanfaronade himself upon a white horse, which pranced and
caracoled to the sound of the trumpets. Nothing could have been more splendid
than the ambassador's attire. His coat was nearly hidden under an embroidery of
pearls and diamonds, his boots were solid gold, and from his helmet floated
scarlet plumes. At the sight of him the Princess lost her wits entirely, and
determined that Fanfaronade and nobody else would she marry.
`It
is quite impossible,' she said, `that his master should be half as handsome and
delightful. I am not ambitious, and having spent all my life in this tedious
tower, anything--even a house in the country--will seem a delightful change. I
am sure that bread and water shared with Fanfaronade will please me far better
than roast chicken and sweetmeats with anybody else.'
And
so she went on talk, talk, talking, until her waiting-women wondered where she
got it all from. But when they tried to stop her, and represented that her high
rank made it perfectly impossible that she should do any such thing, she would
not listen, and ordered them to be silent.
As
soon as the ambassador arrived at the palace, the Queen started to fetch her
daughter.
All
the streets were spread with carpets, and the windows were full of ladies who
were waiting to see the Princess, and carried baskets of flowers and sweetmeats
to shower upon her as she passed.
They
had hardly begun to get the Princess ready when a dwarf arrived, mounted upon
an elephant. He came from the five fairies, and brought for the Princess a
crown, a sceptre, and a robe of golden brocade, with a petticoat marvellously
embroidered with butterflies' wings. They also sent a casket of jewels, so
splendid that no one had ever seen anything like it before, and the Queen was
perfectly dazzled when she opened it. But the Princess scarcely gave a glance
to any of these treasures, for she thought of nothing but Fanfaronade. The
Dwarf was rewarded with a gold piece, and decorated with so many ribbons that
it was hardly possible to see him at all. The Princess sent to each of the
fairies a new spinning-wheel with a distaff of cedar wood, and the Queen said
she must look through her treasures and find something very charming to send
them also.
When
the Princess was arrayed in all the gorgeous things the Dwarf had brought, she
was more beautiful than ever, and as she walked along the streets the people
cried: `How pretty she is! How pretty she is!'
The
procession consisted of the Queen, the Princess, five dozen other princesses
her cousins, and ten dozen who came from the neighbouring kingdoms; and as they
proceeded at a stately pace the sky began to grow dark, then suddenly the
thunder growled, and rain and hail fell in torrents. The Queen put her royal
mantle over her head, and all the princesses did the same with their trains.
Mayblossom was just about to follow their example when a terrific croaking, as
of an immense army of crows, rooks, ravens, screech-owls, and all birds of
ill-omen was heard, and at the same instant a huge owl skimmed up to the
Princess, and threw over her a scarf woven of spiders' webs and embroidered
with bats' wings. And then peals of mocking laughter rang through the air, and
they guessed that this was another of the Fairy Carabosse's unpleasant jokes.
The
Queen was terrified at such an evil omen, and tried to pull the black scarf
from the Princess's shoulders, but it really seemed as if it must be nailed on,
it clung so closely.
`Ah!'
cried the Queen, `can nothing appease this enemy of ours? What good was it that
I sent her more than fifty pounds of sweetmeats, and as much again of the best
sugar, not to mention two Westphalia hams? She is as angry as ever.'
While
she lamented in this way, and everybody was as wet as if they had been dragged
through a river, the Princess still thought of nothing but the ambassador, and
just at this moment he appeared before her, with the King, and there was a
great blowing of trumpets, and all the people shouted louder than ever.
Fanfaronade was not generally at a loss for something to say, but when he saw
the Princess, she was so much more beautiful and majestic than he had expected
that he could only stammer out a few words, and entirely forgot the harangue
which he had been learning for months, and knew well enough to have repeated it
in his sleep. To gain time to remember at least part of it, he made several low
bows to the Princess, who on her side dropped half-a-dozen curtseys without
stopping to think, and then said, to relieve his evident embarrassment:
`Sir
Ambassador, I am sure that everything you intend to say is charming, since it
is you who mean to say it; but let us make haste into the palace, as it is
pouring cats and dogs, and the wicked Fairy Carabosse will be amused to see us
all stand dripping here. When we are once under shelter we can laugh at her.'
Upon
this the Ambassador found his tongue, and replied gallantly that the Fairy had
evidently foreseen the flames that would be kindled by the bright eyes of the
Princess, and had sent this deluge to extinguish them. Then he offered his hand
to conduct the Princess, and she said softly:
`As
you could not possibly guess how much I like you, Sir Fanfaronade, I am obliged
to tell you plainly that, since I saw you enter the town on your beautiful
prancing horse, I have been sorry that you came to speak for another instead of
for yourself. So, if you think about it as I do, I will marry you instead of
your master. Of course I know you are not a prince, but I shall be just as fond
of you as if you were, and we can go and live in some cosy little corner of the
world, and be as happy as the days are long.'
The
Ambassador thought he must be dreaming, and could hardly believe what the
lovely Princess said. He dared not answer, but only squeezed the Princess's
hand until he really hurt her little finger, but she did not cry out. When they
reached the palace the King kissed his daughter on both cheeks, and said:
`My
little lambkin, are you willing to marry the great King Merlin's son, for this
Ambassador has come on his behalf to fetch you?'
`If
you please, sire,' said the Princess, dropping a curtsey.
`I
consent also,' said the Queen; `so let the banquet be prepared.'
This
was done with all speed, and everybody feasted except Mayblossom and
Fanfaronade, who looked at one another and forgot everything else.
After
the banquet came a ball, and after that again a ballet, and at last they were
all so tired that everyone fell asleep just where he sat. Only the lovers were
as wide-awake as mice, and the Princess, seeing that there was nothing to fear,
said to Fanfaronade:
`Let
us be quick and run away, for we shall never have a better chance than this.'
Then
she took the King's dagger, which was in a diamond sheath, and the Queen's
neck-handkerchief, and gave her hand to Fanfaronade, who carried a lantern, and
they ran out together into the muddy street and down to the sea-shore. Here
they got into a little boat in which the poor old boatman was sleeping, and when
he woke up and saw the lovely Princess, with all her diamonds and her
spiders'--web scarf, he did not know what to think, and obeyed her instantly
when she commanded him to set out. They could see neither moon nor stars, but
in the Queen's neck-handkerchief there was a carbuncle which glowed like fifty
torches. Fanfaronade asked the Princess where she would like to go, but she
only answered that she did not care where she went as long as he was with her.
`But,
Princess,' said he, `I dare not take you back to King Merlin's court. He would
think hanging too good for me.'
`Oh,
in that case,' she answered, `we had better go to Squirrel Island; it is lonely
enough, and too far off for anyone to follow us there.'
So
she ordered the old boatman to steer for Squirrel Island.
Meanwhile
the day was breaking, and the King and Queen and all the courtiers began to
wake up and rub their eyes, and think it was time to finish the preparations
for the wedding. And the Queen asked for her neck-handkerchief, that she might
look smart. Then there was a scurrying hither and thither, and a hunting
everywhere: they looked into every place, from the wardrobes to the stoves, and
the Queen herself ran about from the garret to the cellar, but the handkerchief
was nowhere to be found.
By
this time the King had missed his dagger, and the search began all over again.
They opened boxes and chests of which the keys had been lost for a hundred
years, and found numbers of curious things, but not the dagger, and the King
tore his beard, and the Queen tore her hair, for the handkerchief and the
dagger were the most valuable things in the kingdom.
When
the King saw that the search was hopeless he said:
`Never
mind, let us make haste and get the wedding over before anything else is lost.'
And then he asked where the Princess was. Upon this her nurse came forward and
said:
`Sire,
I have been seeking her these two hours, but she is nowhere to be found.' This
was more than the Queen could bear. She gave a shriek of alarm and fainted
away, and they had to pour two barrels of eau-de-cologne over her before she
recovered. When she came to herself everybody was looking for the Princess in
the greatest terror and confusion, but as she did not appear, the King said to
his page:
`Go
and find the Ambassador Fanfaronade, who is doubtless asleep in some corner,
and tell him the sad news.'
So
the page hunted hither and thither, but Fanfaronade was no more to be found
than the Princess, the dagger, or the neck-handkerchief!
Then
the King summoned his counsellors and his guards, and, accompanied by the
Queen, went into his great hall. As he had not had time to prepare his speech
beforehand, the King ordered that silence should be kept for three hours, and
at the end of that time he spoke as follows:
`Listen,
great and ! My dear daughter Mayblossom is lost: whether she has been stolen
away or has simply disappeared I cannot tell. The Queen's neck-handkerchief and
my sword, which are worth their weight in gold, are also missing, and, what is
worst of all, the Ambassador Fanfaronade is nowhere to be found. I greatly fear
that the King, his master, when he receives no tidings from him, will come to
seek him among us, and will accuse us of having made mince-meat of him. Perhaps
I could bear even that if I had any money, but I assure you that the expenses
of the wedding have completely ruined me. Advise me, then, my dear subjects,
what had I better do to recover my daughter, Fanfaronade, and the other
things.'
This
was the most eloquent speech the King had been known to make, and when
everybody had done admiring it the Prime Minister made answer:
`Sire,
we are all very sorry to see you so sorry. We would give everything we value in
the world to take away the cause of your sorrow, but this seems to be another
of the tricks of the Fairy Carabosse. The Princess's twenty unlucky years were
not quite over, and really, if the truth must be told, I noticed that
Fanfaronade and the Princess appeared to admire one another greatly. Perhaps this
may give some clue to the mystery of their disappearance.'
Here
the Queen interrupted him, saying, `Take care what you say, sir. Believe me,
the Princess Mayblossom was far too well brought up to think of falling in love
with an Ambassador.'
At
this the nurse came forward, and, falling on her knees, confessed how they had
made the little needle-hole in the tower, and how the Princess had declared
when she saw the Ambassador that she would marry him and nobody else. Then the
Queen was very angry, and gave the nurse, and the cradle-rocker, and the
nursery-maid such a scolding that they shook in their shoes. But the Admiral
Cocked-Hat interrupted her, crying:
`Let
us be off after this good-for-nothing Fanfaronade, for with out a doubt he has
run away with our Princess.'
Then
there was a great clapping of hands, and everybody shouted, `By all means let
us be after him.'
So
while some embarked upon the sea, the others ran from kingdom to kingdom
beating drums and blowing trumpets, and wherever a crowd collected they cried:
`Whoever
wants a beautiful doll, sweetmeats of all kinds, a little pair of scissors, a
golden robe, and a satin cap has only to say where Fanfaronade has hidden the
Princess Mayblossom.'
But
the answer everywhere was, `You must go farther, we have not seen them.'
However,
those who went by sea were more fortunate, for after sailing about for some
time they noticed a light before them which burned at night like a great fire.
At first they dared not go near it, not knowing what it might be, but by-and-by
it remained stationary over Squirrel Island, for, as you have guessed already,
the light was the glowing of the carbuncle. The Princess and Fanfaronade on
landing upon the island had given the boatman a hundred gold pieces, and made
him promise solemnly to tell no one where he had taken them; but the first
thing that happened was that, as he rowed away, he got into the midst of the
fleet, and before he could escape the Admiral had seen him and sent a boat
after him.
When
he was searched they found the gold pieces in his pocket, and as they were
quite new coins, struck in honour of the Princess's wedding, the Admiral felt
certain that the boatman must have been paid by the Princess to aid her in her
flight. But he would not answer any questions, and pretended to be deaf and
dumb
Then
the Admiral said: `Oh! deaf and dumb is he? Lash him to the mast and give him a
taste of the cat-o'-nine-tails. I don't know anything better than that for
curing the deaf and dumb!'
And
when the old boatman saw that he was in earnest, he told all he knew about the
cavalier and the lady whom he had landed upon Squirrel Island, and the Admiral
knew it must be the Princess and Fanfaronade; so he gave the order for the
fleet to surround the island.
Meanwhile
the Princess Mayblossom, who was by this time terribly sleepy, had found a
grassy bank in the shade, and throwing herself down had already fallen into a
profound slumber, when Fanfaronade, who happened to be hungry and not sleepy,
came and woke her up, saying, very crossly:
`Pray,
madam, how long do you mean to stay here? I see nothing to eat, and though you
may be very charming, the sight of you does not prevent me from famishing.'
`What!
Fanfaronade,' said the Princess, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, `is it
possible that when I am here with you you can want anything else? You ought to
be thinking all the time how happy you are.'
`Happy!'
cried he; `say rather unhappy. I wish with all my heart that you were back in
your dark tower again.'
`Darling,
don't be cross,' said the Princess. `I will go and see if I can find some wild
fruit for you.'
`I
wish you might find a wolf to eat you up,' growled Fanfaronade.
The
Princess, in great dismay, ran hither and thither all about the wood, tearing
her dress, and hurting her pretty white hands with the thorns and brambles, but
she could find nothing good to eat, and at last she had to go back sorrowfully
to Fanfaronade. When he saw that she came empty-handed he got up and left her, grumbling
to himself.
The
next day they searched again, but with no better success.
`Alas!'
said the Princess, `if only I could find something for you to eat, I should not
mind being hungry myself.'
`No,
I should not mind that either,' answered Fanfaronade.
`Is
it possible,' said she, `that you would not care if I died of hunger? Oh,
Fanfaronade, you said you loved me!'
`That
was when we were in quite another place and I was not hungry,' said he. `It
makes a great difference in one's ideas to be dying of hunger and thirst on a
desert island.'
At
this the Princess was dreadfully vexed, and she sat down under a white rose
bush and began to cry bitterly.
`Happy
roses,' she thought to herself, `they have only to blossom in the sunshine and
be admired, and there is nobody to be unkind to them.' And the tears ran down
her cheeks and splashed on to the rose-tree roots. Presently she was surprised
to see the whole bush rustling and shaking, and a soft little voice from the
prettiest rosebud said:
`Poor
Princess! look in the trunk of that tree, and you will find a honeycomb, but
don't be foolish enough to share it with Fanfaronade.'
Mayblossom
ran to the tree, and sure enough there was the honey. Without losing a moment
she ran with it to Fanfaronade, crying gaily:
`See,
here is a honeycomb that I have found. I might have eaten it up all by myself,
but I had rather share it with you.'
But
without looking at her or thanking her he snatched the honey comb out of her
hands and ate it all up--every bit, without offering her a morsel. Indeed, when
she humbly asked for some he said mockingly that it was too sweet for her, and
would spoil her teeth.
Mayblossom,
more downcast than ever, went sadly away and sat down under an oak tree, and
her tears and sighs were so piteous that the oak fanned her with his rustling
leaves, and said:
`Take
courage, pretty Princess, all is not lost yet. Take this pitcher of milk and
drink it up, and whatever you do, don't leave a drop for Fanfaronade.'
The
Princess, quite astonished, looked round, and saw a big pitcher full of milk,
but before she could raise it to her lips the thought of how thirsty
Fanfaronade must be, after eating at least fifteen pounds of honey, made her
run back to him and say:
`Here
is a pitcher of milk; drink some, for you must be thirsty I am sure; but pray
save a little for me, as I am dying of hunger and thirst.'
But
he seized the pitcher and drank all it contained at a single draught, and then
broke it to atoms on the nearest stone, saying with a malicious smile: `As you
have not eaten anything you cannot be thirsty.'
`Ah!'
cried the Princess, `I am well punished for disappointing the King and Queen,
and running away with this Ambassador about whom I knew nothing.'
And
so saying she wandered away into the thickest part of the wood, and sat down
under a thorn tree, where a nightingale was singing. Presently she heard him
say: `Search under the bush Princess; you will find some sugar, almonds, and
some tarts there But don't be silly enough to offer Fanfaronade any.' And this
time the Princess, who was fainting with hunger, took the nightingale's advice,
and ate what she found all by herself. But Fanfaronade, seeing that she had
found something good, and was not going to share it with him, ran after her in
such a fury that she hastily drew out the Queen's carbuncle, which had the
property of rendering people invisible if they were in danger, and when she was
safely hidden from him she reproached him gently for his unkindness.
Meanwhile
Admiral Cocked-Hat had despatched Jack-the-Chatterer-of-the-Straw-Boots,
Courier in Ordinary to the Prime Minister, to tell the King that the Princess
and the Ambassador had landed on Squirrel Island, but that not knowing the
country he had not pursued them, for fear of being captured by concealed
enemies. Their Majesties were overjoyed at the news, and the King sent for a
great book, each leaf of which was eight ells long. It was the work of a very
clever Fairy, and contained a description of the whole earth. He very soon
found that Squirrel Island was uninhabited.
`Go,'
said he, to Jack-the-Chatterer, `tell the Admiral from me to land at once. I am
surprised at his not having done so sooner.' As soon as this message reached
the fleet, every preparation was made for war, and the noise was so great that
it reached the ears of the Princess, who at once flew to protect her lover. As
he was not very brave he accepted her aid gladly.
`You
stand behind me,' said she, `and I will hold the carbuncle which will make us
invisible, and with the King's dagger I can protect you from the enemy.' So
when the soldiers landed they could see nothing, but the Princess touched them
one after another with the dagger, and they fell insensible upon the sand, so that
at last the Admiral, seeing that there was some enchantment, hastily gave
orders for a retreat to be sounded, and got his men back into their boats in
great confusion.
Fanfaronade,being
once more left with the Princess, began to think that if he could get rid of
her, and possess himself of the carbuncle and the dagger, he would be able to
make his escape. So as they walked back over the cliffs he gave the Princess a
great push, hoping she would fall into the sea; but she stepped aside so
quickly that he only succeeded in overbalancing himself, and over he went, and
sank to the bottom of the sea like a lump of lead, and was never heard of any
more. While the Princess was still looking after him in horror, her attention
was attracted by a rushing noise over her head, and looking up she saw two
chariots approaching rapidly from opposite directions. One was bright and
glittering, and drawn by swans and peacocks, while the Fairy who sat in it was
beautiful as a sunbeam; but the other was drawn by bats and ravens, and
contained a frightful little Dwarf, who was dressed in a snake's skin, and wore
a great toad upon her head for a hood. The chariots met with a frightful crash
in mid-air, and the Princess looked on in breathless anxiety while a furious
battle took place between the lovely Fairy with her golden lance, and the
hideous little Dwarf and her rusty pike. But very soon it was evident that the
Beauty had the best of it, and the Dwarf turned her bats' heads and flickered
away in great confusion, while the Fairy came down to where the Princess stood,
and said, smiling, `You see Princess, I have completely routed that malicious
old Carabosse. Will you believe it! she actually wanted to claim authority over
you for ever, because you came out of the tower four days before the twenty
years were ended. However, I think I have settled her pretensions, and I hope
you will be very happy and enjoy the freedom I have won for you.'
The
Princess thanked her heartily, and then the Fairy despatched one of her
peacocks to her palace to bring a gorgeous robe for Mayblossom, who certainly
needed it, for her own was torn to shreds by the thorns and briars. Another
peacock was sent to the Admiral to tell him that he could now land in perfect
safety, which he at once did, bringing all his men with him, even to
Jack-the-Chatterer, who, happening to pass the spit upon which the Admiral's
dinner was roasting, snatched it up and brought it with him.
Admiral
Cocked-Hat was immensely surprised when he came upon the golden chariot, and
still more so to see two lovely ladies walking under the trees a little farther
away. When he reached them, of course he recognised the Princess, and he went
down on his knees and kissed her hand quite joyfully. Then she presented him to
the Fairy, and told him how Carabosse had been finally routed, and he thanked
and congratulated the Fairy, who was most gracious to him. While they were
talking she cried suddenly:
`I
declare I smell a savoury dinner.'
`Why
yes, Madam, here it is,' said Jack-the-Chatterer, holding up the spit, where
all the pheasants and partridges were frizzling. `Will your Highness please to
taste any of them?'
`By
all means,' said the Fairy, `especially as the Princess will certainly be glad
of a good meal.'
So
the Admiral sent back to his ship for everything that was needful, and they
feasted merrily under the trees. By the time they had finished the peacock had
come back with a robe for the Princess, in which the Fairy arrayed her. It was
of green and gold brocade, embroidered with pearls and rubies, and her long
golden hair was tied back with strings of diamonds and emeralds, and crowned
with flowers. The Fairy made her mount beside her in the golden chariot, and
took her on board the Admiral's ship, where she bade her farewell, sending many
messages of friendship to the Queen, and bidding the Princess tell her that she
was the fifth Fairy who had attended the christening. Then salutes were fired,
the fleet weighed anchor, and very soon they reached the port. Here the King
and Queen were waiting, and they received the Princess with such joy and
kindness that she could not get a word in edgewise, to say how sorry she was
for having run away with such a very poor spirited Ambassador. But, after all,
it must have been all Carabosse's fault. Just at this lucky moment who should
arrive but King Merlin's son, who had become uneasy at not receiving any news
from his Ambassador, and so had started himself with a magnificent escort of a
thousand horsemen, and thirty body-guards in gold and scarlet uniforms, to see
what could have happened. As he was a hundred times handsomer and braver than
the Ambassador, the Princess found she could like him very much. So the wedding
was held at once, with so much splendour and rejoicing that all the previous
misfortunes were quite forgotten.[1]
[1]
La Princesse Printaniere. Par Mme. d'Aulnoy.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f03]
SORIA
MORIA CASTLE
THERE
was once upon a time a couple of folks who had a son called Halvor. Ever since
he had been a little boy he had been unwilling to do any work, and had just sat
raking about among the ashes. His parents sent him away to learn several
things, but Halvor stayed nowhere, for when he had been gone two or three days
he always ran away from his master, hurried off home, and sat down in the
chimney corner to grub among the ashes again.
One
day, however, a sea captain came and asked Halvor if he hadn't a fancy to come
with him and go to sea, and behold foreign lands. And Halvor had a fancy for
that, so he was not long in getting ready.
How
long they sailed I have no idea, but after a long, long time there was a
terrible storm, and when it was over and all had become calm again, they knew
not where they were, for they had been driven away to a strange coast of which
none of them had any knowledge.
As
there was no wind at all they lay there becalmed, and Halvor asked the skipper
to give him leave to go on shore to look about him, for he would much rather do
that than lie there and sleep.
`Dost
thou think that thou art fit to go where people can see thee?' said the
skipper; `thou hast no clothes but those rags thou art going about in!'
Halvor
still begged for leave, and at last got it, but he was to come back at once if
the wind began to rise.
So
he went on shore, and it was a delightful country; whithersoever he went there
were wide plains with fields and meadows, but as for people, there were none to
be seen. The wind began to rise, but Halvor thought that he had not seen enough
yet, and that he would like to walk about a little longer, to try if he could
not meet somebody. So after a while he came to a great highway, which was so
smooth that an egg might have been rolled along it without breaking. Halvor
followed this, and when evening drew near he saw a big castle far away in the
distance, and there were lights in it. So as he had now been walking the whole
day and had not brought anything to eat away with him, he was frightfully
hungry. Nevertheless, the nearer he came to the castle the more afraid he was.
A
fire was burning in the castle, and Halvor went into the kitchen, which was
more magnificent than any kitchen he had ever yet beheld. There were vessels of
gold and silver, but not one human being was to be seen. When Halvor had stood
there for some time, and no one had come out, he went in and opened a door, and
inside a Princess was sitting at her wheel spinning.
`Nay!'
she cried, `can Christian folk dare to come hither? But the best thing that you
can do is to go away again, for if not the Troll will devour you. A Troll with
three heads lives here.'
`I
should have been just as well pleased if he had had four heads more, for I
should have enjoyed seeing the fellow,' said the youth; `and I won't go away,
for I have done no harm, but you must give me something to eat, for I am
frightfully hungry.'
When
Halvor had eaten his fill, the Princess told him to try if he could wield the
sword which was hanging on the wall, but he could not wield it, nor could he
even lift it up.
`Well,
then, you must take a drink out of that bottle which is hanging by its side,
for that's what the Troll does whenever he goes out and wants to use the
sword,' said the Princess.
Halvor
took a draught, and in a moment he was able to swing the sword about with
perfect ease. And now he thought it was high time for the Troll to make his
appearance, and at that very moment he came, panting for breath.
Halvor
got behind the door.
`Hutetu!'
said the Troll as he put his head in at the door. `It smells just as if there
were Christian man's blood here!'
`Yes,
you shall learn that there is!' said Halvor, and cut off all his heads.
The
Princess was so rejoiced to be free that she danced and sang, but then she remembered
her sisters, and said: `If my sisters were but free too!'
`Where
are they?' asked Halvor.
So
she told him where they were. One of them had been taken away by a Troll to his
castle, which was six miles off, and the other had been carried off to a castle
which was nine miles farther off still
`But
now,' said she, `you must first help me to get this dead body away from here.'
Halvor
was so strong that he cleared everything away, and made all clean and tidy very
quickly. So then they ate and drank, and were happy, and next morning he set
off in the grey light of dawn. He gave himself no rest, but walked or ran the
livelong day. When he came in sight of the castle he was again just a little
afraid. It was much more splendid than the other, but here too there was not a
human being to be seen. So Halvor went into the kitchen, and did not linger
there either, but went straight in.
`Nay!
do Christian folk dare to come here?' cried the second Princess. `I know not
how long it is since I myself came, but during all that time I have never seen
a Christian man. It will be better for you to depart at once, for a Troll lives
here who has six heads.'
`No,
I shall not go,' said Halvor; `even if he had six more I would not.'
`He
will swallow you up alive,' said the Princess.
But
she spoke to no purpose, for Halvor would not go; he was not afraid of the
Troll, but he wanted some meat and drink, for he was hungry after his journey.
So she gave him as much as he would have, and then she once more tried to make
him go away.
`No,'
said Halvor, `I will not go, for I have not done anything wrong, and I have no
reason to be afraid.'
`He
won't ask any questions about that,' said the Princess, `for he will take you
without leave or right; but as you will not go, try if you can wield that sword
which the Troll uses in battle.'
He
could not brandish the sword; so the Princess said that he was to take a
draught from the flask which hung by its side, and when he had done that he
could wield the sword.
Soon
afterwards the Troll came, and he was so large and stout that he was forced to
go sideways to get through the door. When the Troll got his first head in he
cried: `Hutetu! It smells of a Christian man's blood here!'
With
that Halvor cut off the first head, and so on with all the rest. The Princess
was now exceedingly delighted, but then she remembered her sisters, and wished
that they too were free. Halvor thought that might be managed, and wanted to
set off immediately; but first he had to help the Princess to remove the
Troll's body, so it was not until morning that he set forth on his way.
It
was a long way to the castle, and he both walked and ran to get there in time.
Late in the evening he caught sight of it, and it was very much more magnificent
than either of the others. And this time he was not in the least afraid, but
went into the kitchen, and then straight on inside the castle. There a Princess
was sitting, who was so beautiful that there was never anyone to equal her. She
too said what the others had said, that no Christian folk had ever been there
since she had come, and entreated him to go away again, or else the Troll would
swallow him up alive. The Troll had nine heads, she told him.
`Yes,
and if he had nine added to the nine, and then nine more still, I would not go
away,' said Halvor, and went and stood by the stove.
The
Princess begged him very prettily to go lest the Troll should devour him; but
Halvor said, `Let him come when he will.'
So
she gave him the Troll's sword, and bade him take a drink from the flask to
enable him to wield it.
At
that same moment the Troll came, breathing hard, and he was ever so much bigger
and stouter than either of the others, and he too was forced to go sideways to
get in through the door.
`Hutetu!
what a smell of Christian blood there is here!' said he.
Then
Halvor cut off the first head, and after that the others, but the last was the
toughest of them all, and it was the hardest work that Halvor had ever done to
get it off, but he still believed that he would have strength enough to do it.
And
now all the Princesses came to the castle, and were together again, and they
were happier than they had ever been in their lives; and they were delighted
with Halvor, and he with them, and he was to choose the one he liked best; but
of the three sisters the youngest loved him best.
But
Halvor went about and was so strange and so mournful and quiet that the
Princesses asked what it was that he longed for, and if he did not like to be
with them. He said that he did like to be with them, for they had enough to
live on, and he was very comfortable there; but he longed to go home, for his
father and mother were alive, and he had a great desire to see them again.
They
thought that this might easily be done.
`You
shall go and return in perfect safety if you will follow our advice,' said the
Princesses.
So
he said that he would do nothing that they did not wish.
Then
they dressed him so splendidly that he was like a King's son; and they put a
ring on his finger, and it was one which would enable him to go there and back
again by wishing, but they told him that he must not throw it away, or name
their names; for if he did, all his magnificence would be at an end, and then
he would never see them more.
`If
I were but at home again, or if home were but here!' said Halvor, and no sooner
had he wished this than it was granted. Halvor was standing outside his father
and mother's cottage before he knew what he was about. The darkness of night
was coming on, and when the father and mother saw such a splendid and stately
stranger walk in, they were so startled that they both began to bow and
curtsey.
Halvor
then inquired if he could stay there and have lodging for the night. No, that
he certainly could not. `We can give you no such accommodation,' they said,
`for we have none of the things that are needful when a great lord like you is
to be entertained. It will be better for you to go up to the farm. It is not
far off, you can see the chimney-pots from here, and there they have plenty of
everything.'
Halvor
would not hear of that, he was absolutely determined to stay where he was; but
the old folks stuck to what they had said, and told him that he was to go to
the farm, where he could get both meat and drink, whereas they themselves had
not even a chair to offer him.
`No,'
said Halvor, `I will not go up there till early to-morrow morning; let me stay
here to-night. I can sit down on the hearth.'
They
could say nothing against that, so Halvor sat down on the hearth, and began to
rake about among the ashes just as he had done before, when he lay there idling
away his time.
They
chattered much about many things, and told Halvor of this and of that, and at
last he asked them if they had never had any child.
`Yes,'
they said; they had had a boy who was called Halvor, but they did not know
where he had gone, and they could not even say whether he were dead or alive.
`Could
I be he?' said Halvor.
`I
should know him well enough,' said the old woman rising. `Our Halvor was so
idle and slothful that he never did anything at all, and he was so ragged that
one hole ran into another all over his clothes. Such a fellow as he was could
never turn into such a man as you are, sir.'
In
a short time the old woman had to go to the fireplace to stir the fire, and
when the blaze lit up Halvor, as it used to do when he was at home raking up
the ashes, she knew him again.
`Good
Heavens! is that you, Halvor?' said she, and such great gladness fell on the
old parents that there were no bounds to it. And now he had to relate
everything that had befallen him, and the old woman was so delighted with him
that she would take him up to the farm at once to show him to the girls who had
formerly looked down on him so. She went there first, and Halvor followed her.
When she got there she told them how Halvor had come home again, and now they
should just see how magnificent he was. `He looks like a prince,' she said.
`We
shall see that he is just the same ragamuffin that he was before,' said the
girls, tossing their heads.
At
that same moment Halvor entered, and the girls were so astonished that they
left their kirtles lying in the chimney corner, and ran away in nothing but
their petticoats. When they came in again they were so shamefaced that they
hardly dared to look at Halvor, towards whom they had always been so proud and
haughty before.
`Ay,
ay! you have always thought that you were so pretty and dainty that no one was
equal to you,' said Halvor, `but you should just see the eldest Princess whom I
set free. You look like herds-women compared with her, and the second Princess
is also much prettier than you; but the youngest, who is my sweetheart, is more
beautiful than either sun or moon. I wish to Heaven they were here, and then
you would see them.'
Scarcely
had he said this before they were standing by his side, but then he was very
sorrowful, for the words which they had said to him came to his mind.
Up
at the farm a great feast was made ready for the Princesses, and much respect
paid to them, but they would not stay there.
`We
want to go down to your parents,' they said to Halvor, `so we will go out and
look about us.'
He
followed them out, and they came to a large pond outside the farm-house. Very
near the water there was a pretty green bank, and there the Princesses said
they would sit down and while away an hour, for they thought that it would be
pleasant to sit and look out over the water, they said.
There
they sat down, and when they had sat for a short time the youngest Princess
said, `I may as well comb your hair a little, Halvor.'
So
Halvor laid his head down on her lap, and she combed it, and it was not long
before he fell asleep. Then she took her ring from him and put another in its
place, and then she said to her sisters: `Hold me as I am holding you. I would
that we were at Soria Moria Castle.'
When
Halvor awoke he knew that he had lost the Princesses, and began to weep and
lament, and was so unhappy that he could not be comforted. In spite of all his
father's and mother's entreaties, he would not stay, but bade them farewell,
saying that he would never see them more, for if he did not find the Princess
again he did not think it worth while to live.
He
again had three hundred dollars, which he put into his pocket and went on his
way. When he had walked some distance he met a man with a tolerably good horse.
Halvor longed to buy it, and began to bargain with the man.
`Well,
I have not exactly been thinking of selling him,' said the man, `but if we
could agree, perhaps----'
Halvor
inquired how much he wanted to have for the horse.
`I
did not give much for him, and he is not worth much; he is a capital horse to
ride, but good for nothing at drawing; but he will always be able to carry your
bag of provisions and you too, if you walk and ride by turns.' At last they
agreed about the price, and Halvor laid his bag on the horse, and sometimes he
walked and sometimes he rode. In the evening he came to a green field, where
stood a great tree, under which he seated himself. Then he let the horse loose
and lay down to sleep, but before he did that he took his bag off the horse. At
daybreak he set off again, for he did not feel as if he could take any rest. So
he walked and rode the whole day, through a great wood where there were many
green places which gleamed very prettily among the trees. He did not know where
he was or whither he was going, but he never lingered longer in any place than
was enough to let his horse get a little food when they came to one of these
green spots, while he himself took out his bag of provisions.
So
he walked and he rode, and it seemed to him that the wood would never come to
an end. But on the evening of the second day he saw a light shining through the
trees.
`If
only there were some people up there I might warm myself and get something to
eat,' thought Halvor.
When
he got to the place where the light had come from, he saw a wretched little
cottage, and through a small pane of glass he saw a couple of old folks inside.
They were very old, and as grey-headed as a pigeon, and the old woman had such
a long nose that she sat in the chimney corner and used it to stir the fire.
`Good
evening I good evening!' said the old hag; `but what errand have you that can
bring you here? No Christian folk have been here for more than a hundred
years.'
So
Halvor told her that he wanted to get to Soria Moria Castle, and inquired if
she knew the way thither.
`No,'
said the old woman, `that I do not, but the Moon will be here presently, and I
will ask her, and she will know. She can easily see it, for she shines on all
things.'
So
when the Moon stood clear and bright above the tree-tops the old woman went
out. `Moon! Moon!' she screamed. `Canst thou tell me the way to Soria Moria
Castle?'
`No,'
said the Moon, `that I can't, for when I shone there, there was a cloud before
me.'
`Wait
a little longer,' said the old woman to Halvor, `for the West Wind will
presently be here, and he will know it, for he breathes gently or blows into
every corner.'
`What!
have you a horse too?' she said when she came in again. `Oh! let the poor
creature loose in our bit of fenced-in pasture, and don't let it stand there
starving at our very door. But won't you exchange him with me? We have a pair
of old boots here with which you can go fifteen quarters of a mile at each
step. You shall have them for the horse, and then you will be able to get
sooner to Soria Moria Castle.'
Halvor
consented to this at once, and the old woman was so delighted with the horse
that she was ready to dance. `For now I, too, shall be able to ride to church,'
she said. Halvor could take no rest, and wanted to set off immediately; but the
old woman said that there was no need to hasten. `Lie down on the bench and
sleep a little, for we have no bed to offer you,' said she, `and I will watch
for the coming of the West Wind.'
Ere
long came the West Wind, roaring so loud that the walls creaked.
The
old woman went out and cried:
`West
Wind! West Wind! Canst thou tell me the way to Soria Moria Castle? Here is one
who would go thither.'
`Yes,
I know it well,' said the West Wind. `I am just on my way there to dry the
clothes for the wedding which is to take place. If he is fleet of foot he can
go with me.'
Out
ran Halvor.
`You
will have to make haste if you mean to go with me,' said the West Wind; and
away it went over hill and dale, and moor and morass, and Halvor had enough to
do to keep up with it.
`Well,
now I have no time to stay with you any longer,' said the West Wind, `for I
must first go and tear down a bit of spruce fir before I go to the
bleaching-ground to dry the clothes; but just go along the side of the hill,
and you will come to some girls who are standing there washing clothes, and
then you will not have to walk far before you are at Soria Moria Castle.'
Shortly
afterwards Halvor came to the girls who were standing washing, and they asked
him if he had seen anything of the West Wind, who was to come there to dry the
clothes for the wedding.
`Yes,'
said Halvor, `he has only gone to break down a bit of spruce fir. It won't be
long before he is here.' And then he asked them the way to Soria Moria Castle.
They put him in the right way, and when he came in front of the castle it was
so full of horses and people that it swarmed with them. But Halvor was so
ragged and torn with following the West Wind through bushes and bogs that he
kept on one side, and would not go among the crowd until the last day, when the
feast was to be held at noon.
So
when, as was the usage and custom, all were to drink to the bride and the young
girls who were present, the cup-bearer filled the cup for each in turn, both
bride and bridegroom, and knights and servants, and at last, after a very long
time, he came to Halvor. He drank their health, and then slipped the ring which
the Princess had put on his finger when they were sitting by the waterside into
the glass, and ordered the cup-bearer to carry the glass to the bride from him
and greet her.
Then
the Princess at once rose up from the table, and said, `Who is most worthy to
have one of us--he who has delivered us from the Trolls or he who is sitting
here as bridegroom?'
There
could be but one opinion as to that, everyone thought, and when Halvor heard
what they said he was not long in flinging off his beggar's rags and arraying
himself as a bridegroom.
`Yes,
he is the right one,' cried the youngest Princess when she caught sight of him;
so she flung the other out of the window and held her wedding with Halvor.[2]
[2]
From P. C. Asbjornsen.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f04]
THE
DEATH OF KOSHCHEI THE DEATHLESS
IN
a certain kingdom there lived a Prince Ivan. He had three sisters. The first
was the Princess Marya, the second the Princess Olga, the third the Princess
Anna. When their father and mother lay at the point of death, they had thus
enjoined their son: `Give your sisters in marriage to the very first suitors
who come to woo them. Don't go keeping them by you!'
They
died, and the Prince buried them, and then, to solace his grief, he went with
his sisters into the garden green to stroll. Suddenly the sky was covered by a
black cloud; a terrible storm arose.
`Let
us go home, sisters!' he cried.
Hardly
had they got into the palace, when the thunder pealed, the ceiling split open,
and into the room where they were came flying a falcon bright. The Falcon smote
upon the ground, became a brave youth, and said:
`Hail,
Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I have come as a wooer! I wish
to propose for your sister, the Princess Marya.'
`If
you find favour in the eyes of my sister, I will not interfere with her wishes.
Let her marry you, in God's name!'
The
Princess Marya gave her consent; the Falcon married her and bore her away into
his own realm.
Days
follow days, hours chase hours; a whole year goes by. One day Prince Ivan and
his two sisters went out to stroll in the garden green. Again there arose a storm-cloud,
with whirlwind and lightning.
`Let
us go home, sisters!' cries the Prince. Scarcely had they entered the palace
when the thunder crashed, the roof burst into a blaze, the ceiling split in
twain, and in flew an eagle. The Eagle smote upon the ground and became a brave
youth.
`Hail,
Prince Ivan! I Before I came as a guest, but now I have come as a wooer!'
And
he asked for the hand of the Princess Olga. Prince Ivan replied:
`If
you find favour in the eyes of the Princess Olga, then let her marry you. I
will not interfere with her liberty of choice.'
The
Princess Olga gave her consent and married the Eagle. The Eagle took her and
carried her off to his own kingdom.
Another
year went by. Prince Ivan said to his youngest sister:
`Let
us go out and stroll in the garden green!'
They
strolled about for a time. Again there arose a storm-cloud, with whirlwind and
lightning.
`Let
us return home, sister!' said he.
They
returned home, but they hadn't had time to sit down when the thunder crashed,
the ceiling split open, and in flew a raven. The Raven smote upon the floor and
became a brave youth. The former youths had been handsome, but this one was
handsomer still.
`Well,
Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I have come as a wooer! Give me
the Princess Anna to wife.'
`I
won't interfere with my sister's freedom. If you gain her affections, let her
marry you.'
So
the Princess Anna married the Raven, and he bore her away into his own realm.
Prince Ivan was left alone. A whole year he lived without his sisters; then he
grew weary, and said:
`I
will set out in search of my sisters.'
He
got ready for the journey, he rode and rode, and one day he saw a whole army
lying dead on the plain. He cried aloud, `If there be a living man there, let
him make answer! Who has slain this mighty host?'
There
replied unto him a living man:
`All
this mighty host has been slain by the fair Princess Marya Morevna.'
Prince
Ivan rode further on, and came to a white tent, and forth came to meet him the
fair Princess Marya Morevna.
`Hail,
Prince!' says she; `whither does God send you? and is it of your free will or
against your will?'
Prince
Ivan replied, `Not against their will do brave youths ride!'
`Well,
if your business be not pressing, tarry awhile in my tent.'
Thereat
was Prince Ivan glad. He spent two nights in the tent, and he found favour in
the eyes of Marya Morevna, and she married him. The fair Princess, Marya
Morevna, carried him off into her own realm.
They
spent some time together, and then the Princess took it into her head to go a
warring. So she handed over all the house-keeping affairs to Prince Ivan, and
gave him these instructions:
`Go
about everywhere, keep watch over everything; only do not venture to look into
that closet there.'
He
couldn't help doing so. The moment Marya Morevna had gone he rushed to the
closet, pulled open the door, and looked in--there hung Koshchei the Deathless,
fettered by twelve chains. Then Koshchei entreated Prince Ivan, saying:
`Have
pity upon me and give me to drink! Ten years long have I been here in torment,
neither eating nor drinking; my throat is utterly dried up.'
The
Prince gave him a bucketful of water; he drank it up and asked for more,
saying:
`A
single bucket of water will not quench my thirst; give me more!'
The
Prince gave him a second bucketful. Koshchei drank it up and asked for a third,
and when he had swallowed the third bucketful, he regained his former strength,
gave his chains a shake, and broke all twelve at once.
`Thanks,
Prince Ivan!' cried Koshchei the Deathless, `now you will sooner see your own
ears than Marya Morevna!' and out of the window he flew in the shape of a
terrible whirlwind. And he came up with the fair Princess Marya Morevna as she
was going her way, laid hold of her and carried her off home with him. But
Prince Ivan wept full sore, and he arrayed himself and set out a-wandering,
saying to himself, `Whatever happens, I will go and look for Marya Morevna!'
One
day passed, another day passed; at the dawn of the third day he saw a wondrous
palace, and by the side of the palace stood an oak, and on the oak sat a falcon
bright. Down flew the Falcon from the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a
brave youth, and cried aloud:
`Ha,
dear brother-in-law! how deals the Lord with you?'
Out
came running the Princess Marya, joyfully greeted her brother Ivan, and began
inquiring after his health, and telling him all about herself. The Prince spent
three days with them; then he said:
`I
cannot abide with you; I must go in search of my wife, the fair Princess Marya
Morevna.'
`Hard
will it be for you to find her,' answered the Falcon. `At all events leave with
us your silver spoon. We will look at it and remember you.' So Prince Ivan left
his silver spoon at the Falcon's, and went on his way again.
On
he went one day, on he went another day, and by the dawn of the third day he
saw a palace still grander than the former one and hard by the palace stood an
oak, and on the oak sat an eagle. Down flew the Eagle from the oak, smote upon
the ground, turned into a brave youth, and cried aloud:
`Rise
up, Princess Olga! Hither comes our brother dear!'
The
Princess Olga immediately ran to meet him, and began kissing him and embracing
him, asking after his health, and telling him all about herself. With them
Prince Ivan stopped three days; then he said:
`I
cannot stay here any longer. I am going to look for my wife, the fair Princess
Marya Morevna.'
`Hard
will it be for you to find her,' replied the Eagle. `Leave with us a silver
fork. We will look at it and remember you.'
He
left a silver fork behind, and went his way. He travelled one day, he travelled
two days; at daybreak on the third day he saw a palace grander than the first
two, and near the palace stood an oak, and on the oak sat a raven. Down flew
the Raven from the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a brave youth, and
cried aloud:
`Princess
Anna, come forth quickly I our brother is coming.'
Out
ran the Princess Anna, greeted him joyfully, and began kissing and embracing
him, asking after his health and telling him all about herself. Prince Ivan
stayed with them three days; then he said:
`Farewell!
I am going to look for my wife, the fair Princess Marya Morevna.'
`Hard
will it be for you to find her,' replied the Raven. `Anyhow, leave your silver
snuff-box with us. We will look at it and remember you.'
The
Prince handed over his silver snuff-box, took his leave, and went his way. One day
he went, another day he went, and on the third day he came to where Marya
Morevna was. She caught sight of her love, flung her arms around his neck,
burst into tears, and exclaimed:
`Oh,
Prince Ivan! why did you disobey me and go looking into the closet and letting
out Koshchei the Deathless?'
`Forgive
me, Marya Morevna! Remember not the past; much better fly with me while
Koshchei the Deathless is out of sight. Perhaps he won't catch us.'
So
they got ready and fled. Now Koshchei was out hunting. Towards evening he was
returning home, when his good steed stumbled beneath him.
`Why
stumblest thou, sorry jade? Scentest thou some ill?' The steed replied:
`Prince
Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.' `Is it possible to catch them?'
`It
is possible to sow wheat, to wait till it grows up, to reap it and thresh it,
to grind it to flour, to make five pies of it, to eat those pies, and then to
start in pursuit--and even then to be in time.' Koshchei galloped off and
caught up Prince Ivan.
`Now,'
says he, `this time I will forgive you, in return for your kindness in giving
me water to drink. And a second time I will forgive you; but the third time
beware! I will cut you to bits.'
Then
he took Marya Morevna from him, and carried her off. But Prince Ivan sat down
on a stone and burst into tears. He wept and wept--and then returned back again
to Marya Morevna. Now Koshchei the Deathless happened not to be at home.
`Let
us fly, Marya Morevna!'
`Ah,
Prince Ivan! he will catch us.'
`Suppose
he does catch us. At all events we shall have spent an hour or two together.'
So
they got ready and fled. As Koshchei the Deathless was returning home, his good
steed stumbled beneath him.
`Why
stumblest thou, sorry jade? Scentest thou some ill?'
`Prince
Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.'
`Is
it possible to catch them?'
`It
is possible to sow barley, to wait till it grows up, to reap it and thresh it,
to brew beer, to drink ourselves drunk on it, to sleep our fill, and then to
set off in pursuit--and yet to be in time.'
Koshchei
galloped off, caught up Prince Ivan:
`Didn't
I tell you that you should not see Marya Morevna any more than your own ears?'
And
he took her away and carried her off home with him.
Prince
Ivan was left there alone. He wept and wept; then he went back again after
Marya Morevna. Koshchei happened to be away from home at that moment.
`Let
us fly, Marya Morevna!'
`Ah,
Prince Ivan! he is sure to catch us and hew you in pieces.'
`Let
him hew away! I cannot live without you.
So
they got ready and fled.
Koshchei
the Deathless was returning home when his good steed stumbled beneath him.
`Why
stumblest thou? Scentest thou any ill?'
`Prince
Ivan has come and has carried off Marya Morevna.'
Koshchei
galloped off, caught Prince Ivan, chopped him into little pieces, put them into
a barrel, smeared it with pitch and bound it with iron hoops, and flung it into
the blue sea. But Marya Morevna he carried off home.
At
that very time the silver articles turned black which Prince Ivan had left with
his brothers-in-law.
`Ah!'
said they, `the evil is accomplished sure enough!'
Then
the Eagle hurried to the blue sea, caught hold of the barrel, and dragged it
ashore; the Falcon flew away for the Water of Life, and the Raven for the Water
of Death.
Afterwards
they all three met, broke open the barrel, took out the remains of Prince Ivan,
washed them, and put them together in fitting order. The Raven sprinkled them
with the Water of Death--the pieces joined together, the body became whole. The
Falcon sprinkled it with the Water of Life--Prince Ivan shuddered, stood up,
and said:
`Ah!
what a time I've been sleeping!'
`You'd
have gone on sleeping a good deal longer if it hadn't been for us,' replied his
brothers-in-law. `Now come and pay us a visit.'
`Not
so, brothers; I shall go and look for Marya Morevna.'
And
when he had found her, he said to her:
`Find
out from Koshchei the Deathless whence he got so good a steed.'
So
Marya Morevna chose a favourable moment, and began asking Koshchei about it.
Koshchei replied:
`Beyond
thrice nine lands, in the thirtieth kingdom, on the other side of the fiery
river, there lives a Baba Yaga. She has so good a mare that she flies right
round the world on it every day. And she has many other splendid mares. I
watched her herds for three days without losing a single mare, and in return
for that the Baba Yaga gave me a foal.'
`But
how did you get across the fiery river?' `Why, I've a handkerchief of this
kind--when I wave it thrice on the right hand, there springs up a very lofty
bridge, and the fire cannot reach it.'
Marya
Morevna listened to all this, and repeated it to Prince Ivan, and she carried
off the handkerchief and gave it to him. So he managed to get across the fiery
river, and then went on to the Baba Yaga's. Long went he on without getting
anything either to eat or to drink. At last he came across an outlandish bird
and its young ones. Says Prince Ivan:
`I'll
eat one of these chickens.'
`Don't
eat it, Prince Ivan!' begs the outlandish bird; `some time or other I'll do you
a good turn.'
He
went on farther and saw a hive of bees in the forest.
`I'll
get a bit of honeycomb,' says he.
`Don't
disturb my honey, Prince Ivan!' exclaims the queen-bee; `some time or other
I'll do you a good turn.'
So
he didn't disturb it, but went on. Presently there met him a lioness with her
cub.
`Anyhow,
I'll eat this lion cub,' says he; `I'm so hungry I feel quite unwell!'
`Please
let us alone, Prince Ivan!' begs the lioness; `some time or other I'll do you a
good turn.'
`Very
well; have it your own way,' says he.
Hungry
and faint he wandered on, walked farther and farther, and at last came to where
stood the house of the Baba Yaga. Round the house were set twelve poles in a
circle, and on each of eleven of these poles was stuck a human head; the
twelfth alone remained unoccupied.
`Hail,
granny!'
`Hail,
Prince Ivan! wherefore have yon come? Is it of your own accord, or on
compulsion?'
`I
have come to earn from you an heroic steed.'
`So
be it, Prince! You won't have to serve a year with me, but just three days. If
you take good care of my mares, I'll give you an heroic steed. But if you
don't--why, then you mustn't be annoyed at finding your head stuck on top of
the last pole up there.'
Prince
Ivan agreed to these terms. The Baba Yaga gave him food and drink, and bade him
set about his business. But the moment he had driven the mares afield, they
cocked up their tails, and away they tore across the meadows in all directions.
Before the Prince had time to look round they were all out of sight. Thereupon
he began to weep and to disquiet himself, and then he sat down upon a stone and
went to sleep. But when the sun was near its setting the outlandish bird came
flying up to him, and awakened him, saying:
`Arise,
Prince Ivan! The mares are at home now.'
The
Prince arose and returned home. There the Baba Yaga was storming and raging at
her mares, and shrieking:
`Whatever
did ye come home for?'
`How
could we help coming home?' said they. `There came flying birds from every part
of the world, and all but pecked our eyes out.'
`Well,
well! to-morrow don't go galloping over the meadows, but disperse amid the
thick forests.'
Prince
Ivan slept all night. In the morning the Baba Yaga says to him:
`Mind,
Prince! if you don't take good care of the mares, if you lose merely one of
them--your bold head will be stuck on that pole!'
He
drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up their tails and dispersed
among the thick forests. Again did the Prince sit down on the stone, weep and
weep, and then go to sleep. The sun went down behind the forest. Up came
running the lioness.
`Arise,
Prince Ivan! The mares are all collected.'
Prince
Ivan arose and went home. More than ever did the Baba Yaga storm at her mares
and shriek:
`Whatever
did ye come back home for?'
`How
could we help coming back? Beasts of prey came running at us from all parts of
the world, and all but tore us utterly to pieces.'
`Well,
to-morrow run off into the blue sea.'
Again
did Prince Ivan sleep through the night. Next morning the Baba Yaga sent him
forth to watch the mares.
`If
you don't take good care of them,' says she, `your bold head will be stuck on
that pole!'
He
drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up their tails, disappeared
from sight, and fled into the blue sea. There they stood, up to their necks in
water. Prince Ivan sat down on the stone, wept, and fell asleep. But when the
sun had set behind the forest, up came flying a bee, and said:
`Arise,
Prince! The mares are all collected. But when you get home, don't let the Baba
Yaga set eyes on you, but go into the stable and hide behind the mangers. There
you will find a sorry colt rolling in the muck. Do you steal it, and at the
dead of night ride away from the house.'
Prince
Ivan arose, slipped into the stable, and lay down behind the mangers, while the
Baba Yaga was storming away at her mares and shrieking:
`Why
did ye come back?'
`How
could we help coming back? There came flying bees in countless numbers from all
parts of the world, and began stinging us on all sides till the blood came!'
The
Baba Yaga went to sleep. In the dead of the night Prince Ivan stole the sorry
colt, saddled it, jumped on its back, and galloped away to the fiery river.
When he came to that river he waved the handkerchief three times on the right
hand, and suddenly, springing goodness knows whence, there hung across the
river, high in the air, a splendid bridge. The Prince rode across the bridge
and waved the handkerchief twice only on the left hand; there remained across
the river a thin, ever so thin a bridge!
When
the Baba Yaga got up in the morning the sorry colt was not to be seen! Off she
set in pursuit. At full speed did she fly in her iron mortar, urging it on with
the pestle, sweeping away her traces with the broom. She dashed up to the fiery
river, gave a glance, and said, `A capital bridge!' She drove on to the bridge,
but had only got half-way when the bridge broke in two, and the Baba Yaga went
flop into the river. There truly did she meet with a cruel death!
Prince
Ivan fattened up the colt in the green meadows, and it turned into a wondrous
steed. Then he rode to where Marya Morevna was. She came running out, and flung
herself on his neck, crying:
`By
what means has God brought you back to life?'
`Thus
and thus,' says he. `Now come along with me.'
`I
am afraid, Prince Ivan! If Koshchei catches us you will be cut in pieces
again.'
`No,
he won't catch us! I have a splendid heroic steed now; it flies just like a
bird.' So they got on its back and rode away.
Koshchei
the Deathless was returning home when his horse stumbled beneath him.
`What
art thou stumbling for, sorry jade? Dost thou scent any ill?'
`Prince
Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.'
`Can
we catch them?'
`God
knows! Prince Ivan has a horse now which is better than I.'
`Well,
I can't stand it,' says Koshchei the Deathless. `I will pursue.'
After
a time he came up with Prince Ivan, lighted on the ground, and was going to
chop him up with his sharp sword. But at that moment Prince Ivan's horse smote
Koshchei the Deathless full swing with its hoof, and cracked his skull, and the
Prince made an end of him with a club. Afterwards the Prince heaped up a pile
of wood, set fire to it, burnt Koshchei the Deathless on the pyre, and
scattered his ashes to the wind. Then Marya Morevna mounted Koshchei's horse
and Prince Ivan got on his own, and they rode away to visit first the Raven,
and then the Eagle, and then the Falcon. Wherever they went they met with a
joyful greeting.
`Ah,
Prince Ivan! why, we never expected to see you again. Well, it wasn't for nothing
that you gave yourself so much trouble. Such a beauty as Marya Morevna one
might search for all the world over--and never find one like her!'
And
so they visited, and they feasted; and afterwards they went off to their own
realm.[3]
[3]
Ralston.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f05]
THE
BLACK THIEF AND KNIGHT OF THE GLEN.
IN
times of yore there was a King and a Queen in the south of Ireland who had
three sons, all beautiful children; but the Queen, their mother, sickened unto
death when they were yet very young, which caused great grief throughout the
Court, particularly to the King, her husband, who could in no wise be
comforted. Seeing that death was drawing near her, she called the King to her
and spoke as follows:
`I
am now going to leave you, and as you are young and in your prime, of course
after my death you will marry again. Now all the request I ask of you is that
you will build a tower in an island in the sea, wherein you will keep your three
sons until they are come of age and fit to do for themselves; so that they may
not be under the power or jurisdiction of any other woman. Neglect not to give
them education suitable to their birth, and let them be trained up to every
exercise and pastime requisite for king's sons to learn. This is all I have to
say, so farewell.'
The
King had scarce time, with tears in his eyes, to assure her she should be
obeyed in everything, when she, turning herself in her bed, with a smile gave
up the ghost. Never was greater mourning seen than was throughout the Court and
the whole kingdom; for a better woman than the Queen, to rich and poor, was not
to be found in the world. She was interred with great pomp and magnificence,
and the King, her husband, became in a manner inconsolable for the loss of her.
However, he caused the tower to be built and his sons placed in it, under
proper guardians, according to his promise.
In
process of time the lords and knights of the kingdom counselled the King (as he
was young) to live no longer as he had done, but to take a wife; which counsel
prevailing, they chose him a rich and beautiful princess to be his consort--a
neighbouring King's daughter, of whom he was very fond. Not long after, the
Queen had a fine son, which caused great feasting and rejoicing at the Court,
insomuch that the late Queen, in a manner, was entirely forgotten. That fared
well, and King and Queen lived happy together for several years.
At
length the Queen, having some business with the hen-wife, went herself to her,
and, after a long conference passed, was taking leave of her, when the hen-wife
prayed that if ever she should come back to her again she might break her neck.
The Queen, greatly incensed at such a daring insult from one of her meanest subjects,
demanded immediately the reason, or she would have her put to death.
`It
was worth your while, madam,' says the hen-wife, `to pay me well for it, for
the reason I prayed so on you concerns you much.'
`What
must I pay you?' asked the Queen.
`You
must give me,' says she, `the full of a pack of wool, and I have an ancient
crock which you must fill with butter, likewise a barrel which you must fill
for me full of wheat.'
`How
much wool will it take to the pack?' says the Queen.
`It
will take seven herds of sheep,' said she, `and their increase for seven
years.'
`How
much butter will it take to fill your crock?'
`Seven
dairies,' said she, `and their increase for seven years.'
`And
how much will it take to fill the barrel you have?' says the Queen.
`It
will take the increase of seven barrels of wheat for seven years.'
`That
is a great quantity,' says the Queen; `but the reason must be extraordinary,
and before I want it, I will give you all you demand.'
`Well,'
says the hen-wife, `it is because you are so stupid that you don't observe or
find out those affairs that are so dangerous and hurtful to yourself and your
child.'
`What
is that?' says the Queen.
`Why,'
says she, `the King your husband has three fine sons he had by the late Queen,
whom he keeps shut up in a tower until they come of age, intending to divide
the kingdom between them, and let your son push his fortune; now, if you don't
find some means of destroying them; your child and perhaps yourself will be left
desolate in the end.'
`And
what would you advise me to do?' said she; `I am wholly at a loss in what
manner to act in this affair.'
`You
must make known to the King,' says the hen-wife, `that you heard of his sons,
and wonder greatly that he concealed them all this time from you; tell him you
wish to see them, and that it is full time for them to be liberated, and that
you would be desirous he would bring them to the Court. The King will then do
so, and there will be a great feast prepared on that account, and also
diversions of every sort to amuse the people; and in these sports,' said she,
`ask the King's sons to play a game at cards with you, which they will not
refuse. Now,' says the hen-wife, `you must make a bargain, that if you win they
must do whatever you command them, and if they win, that you must do whatever
they command you to do; this bargain must be made before the assembly, and here
is a pack of cards,' says she, `that I am thinking you will not lose by.'
The
Queen immediately took the cards, and, after returning the hen-wife thanks for
her kind instruction, went back to the palace, where she was quite uneasy until
she got speaking to the King in regard of his children; at last she broke it
off to him in a very polite and engaging manner, so that he could see no muster
or design in it. He readily consented to her desire, and his sons were sent for
to the tower, who gladly came to Court, rejoicing that they were freed from
such confinement. They were all very handsome, and very expert in all arts and
exercises, so that they gained the love and esteem of all that had seen them.
The
Queen, more jealous with them than ever, thought it an age until all the
feasting and rejoicing was over, that she might get making her proposal,
depending greatly on the power of the hen-wife's cards. At length this royal
assembly began to sport and play at all kinds of diversions, and the Queen very
cunningly challenged the three Princes to play at cards with her, making
bargain with them as she had been instructed.
They
accepted the challenge, and the eldest son and she played the first game, which
she won; then the second son played, and she won that game likewise; the third
son and she then played the last game, and he won it, which sorely grieved her
that she had not him in her power as well as the rest, being by far the
handsomest and most beloved of the three.
However,
everyone was anxious to hear the Queen's commands in regard to the two Princes,
not thinking that she had any ill design in her head against them. Whether it
was the hen-wife instructed her, or whether it was from her own knowledge, I
cannot tell; but she gave out they must go and bring her the Knight of the
Glen's wild Steed of Bells, or they should lose their heads.
The
young Princes were not in the least concerned, not knowing what they had to do;
but the whole Court was amazed at her demand, knowing very well that it was
impossible for them ever to get the steed, as all that ever sought him perished
in the attempt. However, they could not retract the bargain, and the youngest
Prince was desired to tell what demand he had on the Queen, as he had won his
game.
`My
brothers,' says he, `are now going to travel, and, as I understand, a perilous
journey wherein they know not what road to take or what may happen them. I am
resolved, therefore, not to stay here, but to go with them, let what will
betide; and I request and command, according to my bargain, that the Queen
shall stand on the highest tower of the palace until we come back (or find out
that we are certainly dead), with nothing but sheaf corn for her food and cold
water for her drink, if it should be for seven years and longer.'
All
things being now fixed, the three princes departed the Court in search of the
Knight of the Glen's palace, and travelling along the road they came up with a
man who was a little lame, and seemed to be somewhat advanced in years; they
soon fell into discourse, and the youngest of the princes asked the stranger
his name, or what was the reason he wore so remarkable a black cap as he saw on
him.
`I
am called,' said he, `the Thief of Sloan, and sometimes the Black Thief from my
cap; `and so telling the prince the most of his adventures, he asked him again
where they were bound for, or what they were about.
The
prince, willing to gratify his request, told him their affairs from the
beginning to the end. `And now,' said he, `we are travelling, and do not know
whether we are on the right road or not.'
`Ah!
my brave fellows,' says the Black Thief, `you little know the danger you run. I
am after that steed myself these seven years, and can never steal him on
account of a silk covering he has on him in the stable, with sixty bells fixed
to it, and whenever you approach the place he quickly observes it and shakes
himself; which, by the sound of the bells, not only alarms the prince and his
guards, but the whole country round, so that it is impossible ever to get him,
and those that are so unfortunate as to be taken by the Knight of the Glen are
boiled in a red-hot fiery furnace.'
`Bless
me,' says the young prince, `what will we do? If we return without the steed we
will lose our heads, so I see we are ill fixed on both sides.'
`Well,'
says the Thief of Sloan, `if it were my case I would rather die by the Knight
than by the wicked Queen; besides, I will go with you myself and show you the
road, and whatever fortune you will have, I will take chance of the same.'
They
returned him sincere thanks for his kindness, and he, being well acquainted with
the road, in a short time brought them within view of the knight's castle.
`Now,'
says he, `we must stay here till night comes; for I know all the ways of the
place, and if there be any chance for it, it is when they are all at rest; for
the steed is all the watch the knight keeps there.'
Accordingly,
in the dead hour of the night, the King's three sons and the Thief of Sloan
attempted the Steed of Bells in order to carry him away, but before they could
reach the stables the steed neighed most terribly and shook himself so, and the
bells rung with such noise, that the knight and all his men were up in a
moment.
The
Black Thief and the King's sons thought to make their escape, but they were
suddenly surrounded by the knight's guards and taken prisoners; where they were
brought into that dismal part of the palace where the knight kept a furnace
always boiling, in which he threw all offenders that ever came in his way,
which in a few moments would entirely consume them.
`Audacious
villains!' says the Knight of the Glen, `how dare you attempt so bold an action
as to steal my steed? See, now, the reward of your folly; for your greater
punishment I will not boil you all together, but one after the other, so that
he that survives may witness the dire afflictions of his unfortunate
companions.'
So
saying he ordered his servants to stir up the fire: `We will boil the
eldest-looking of these young men first,' said he, `and so on to the last,
which will be this old champion with the black cap. He seems to be the captain,
and looks as if he had come through many toils.'
`I
was as near death once as the prince is yet,' says the Black Thief, `and
escaped; and so will he too.'
`No,
you never were,' said the knight; `for he is within two or three minutes of his
latter end.'
`But,'
says the Black Thief, `I was within one moment of my death, and I am here yet.'
`How
was that?' says the knight; `I would be glad to hear it, for it seems
impossible.'
`If
you think, sir knight,' says the Black Thief, `that the danger I was in
surpasses that of this young man, will you pardon him his crime?'
`I
will,' says the knight, `so go on with your story.'
`I
was, sir,' says he, `a very wild boy in my youth, and came through many
distresses; once in particular, as I was on my rambling, I was benighted and
could find no lodging. At length I came to an old kiln, and being much fatigued
I went up and lay on the ribs. I had not been long there when I saw three
witches coming in with three bags of gold. Each put their bags of gold under
their heads, as if to sleep. I heard one of them say to the other that if the
Black Thief came on them while they slept, he would not leave them a penny. I
found by their discourse that everybody had got my name into their mouth, though
I kept silent as death during their discourse. At length they fell fast asleep,
and then I stole softly down, and seeing some turf convenient, I placed one
under each of their heads, and off I went, with their gold, as fast as I could.
`I
had not gone far,' continued the Thief of Sloan, `until I saw a grey-hound, a
hare, and a hawk in pursuit of me, and began to think it must be the witches
that had taken the shapes in order that I might not escape them unseen either
by land or water. Seeing they did not appear in any formidable shape, I was
more than once resolved to attack them, thinking that with my broad sword I
could easily destroy them. But considering again that it was perhaps still in
their power to become alive again, I gave over the attempt and climbed with
difficulty up a tree, bringing my sword in my hand and all the gold along with
me. However, when they came to the tree they found what I had done, and making
further use of their hellish art, one of them was changed into a smith's anvil
and another into a piece of iron, of which the third soon made a hatchet.
Having the hatchet made, she fell to cutting down the tree, and in the course
of an hour it began to shake with me. At length it began to bend, and I found
that one or two blows at the most would put it down. I then began to think that
my death was inevitable, considering that those who were capable of doing so
much would soon end my life; but just as she had the stroke drawn that would
terminate my fate, the cock crew, and the witches disappeared, having resumed
their natural shapes for fear of being known, and I got safe off with my bags
of gold.
`Now,
sir,' says he to the Knight of the Glen, `if that be not as great an adventure
as ever you heard, to be within one blow of a hatchet of my end, and that blow
even drawn, and after all to escape, I leave it to yourself.'
`Well,
I cannot say but it is very extraordinary,' says the Knight of the Glen, `and
on that account pardon this young man his crime; so stir up the fire, till I
boil this second one.'
`Indeed,'
says the Black Thief, `I would fain think he would not die this time either.'
`How
so?' says the knight; `it is impossible for him to escape.'
`I
escaped death more wonderfully myself,' says the Thief of Sloan, `than if you
had him ready to throw into the furnace, and I hope it will be the case with
him likewise.'
`Why,
have you been in another great danger?' says the knight. `I would be glad to
hear the story too, and if it be as wonderful as the last, I will pardon this
young man as I did the other.'
`My
way of living, sir,' says the Black Thief, `was not good, as I told you before;
and being at a certain time fairly run out of cash, and meeting with no
enterprise worthy of notice, I was reduced to great straits. At length a rich
bishop died in the neighbourhood I was then in, and I heard he was interred
with a great deal of jewels and rich robes upon him, all which I intended in a
short time to be master of. Accordingly that very night I set about it, and
coming to the place, I understood he was placed at the further end of a long
dark vault, which I slowly entered. I had not gone in far until I heard a foot
coming towards me with a quick pace, and although naturally bold and daring,
yet, thinking of the deceased bishop and the crime I was engaged in, I lost
courage, and ran towards the entrance of the vault. I had retreated but a few
paces when I observed, between me and the light, the figure of a tall black man
standing in the entrance. Being in great fear and not knowing how to pass, I
fired a pistol at him, and he immediately fell across the entrance. Perceiving
he still retained the figure of a mortal man, I began to imagine that it could
not be the bishop's ghost; recovering myself therefore from the fear I was in,
I ventured to the upper end of the vault, where I found a large bundle, and
upon further examination I found that the corpse was already rifled, and that
which I had taken to be a ghost was no more than one of his own clergy. I was
then very sorry that I had the misfortune to kill him, but it then could not be
helped. I took up the bundle that contained everything belonging to the corpse
that was valuable, intending to take my departure from this melancholy abode;
but just as I came to the mouth of the entrance I saw the guards of the place
coming towards me, and distinctly heard them saying that they would look in the
vault, for that the Black Thief would think little of robbing the corpse if he
was anywhere in the place. I did not then know in what manner to act, for if I
was seen I would surely lose my life, as everybody had a look-out at that time,
and because there was no person bold enough to come in on me. I knew very well
on the first sight of me that could be got, I would be shot like a dog. However,
I had not time to lose. I took and raised up the man which I had killed, as if
he was standing on his feet, and I, crouching behind him, bore him up as well
as I could, so that the guards readily saw him as they came up to the vault.
Seeing the man in black, one of the men cried that was the Black Thief, and,
presenting his piece, fired at the man, at which I let him fall, and crept into
a little dark corner myself, that was at the entrance of the place. When they
saw the man fall, they ran all into the vault, and never stopped until they
were at the end of it, for fear, as I thought, that there might be some others
along with him that was killed. But while they were busy inspecting the corpse
and the vault to see what they could miss, I slipped out, and, once away, and
still away; but they never had the Black Thief in their power since.'
`Well,
my brave fellow,' says the Knight of the Glen, `I see you have come through
many dangers: you have freed these two princes by your stories; but I am sorry
myself that this young prince has to suffer for all. Now, if you could tell me
something as wonderful as you have told already, I would pardon him likewise; I
pity this youth and do not want to put him to death if I could help it.'
`That
happens well,' says the Thief of Sloan, `for I like him best myself, and have
reserved the most curious passage for the last on his account.'
`Well,
then,' says the knight, `let us hear it.'
`I
was one day on my travels,' says the Black Thief, `and I came into a large
forest, where I wandered a long time, and could not get out of it. At length I
came to a large castle, and fatigue obliged me to call in the same, where I
found a young woman and a child sitting on her knee, and she crying. I asked
her what made her cry, and where the lord of the castle was, for I wondered
greatly that I saw no stir of servants or any person about the place.
`
``It is well for you,'' says the young woman, ``that the lord of this castle is
not at home at present; for he is a monstrous giant, with but one eye on his
forehead, who lives on human flesh. He brought me this child,'' says she, ``I
do not know where he got it, and ordered me to make it into a pie, and I cannot
help crying at the command.''
`I
told her that if she knew of any place convenient that I could leave the child
safely I would do it, rather than it should be killed by such a monster.
`She
told me of a house a distance off where I would get a woman who would take care
of it. ``But what will I do in regard of the pie?''
`
``Cut a finger off it,'' said I, ``and I will bring you in a young wild pig out
of the forest, which you may dress as if it was the child, and put the finger
in a certain place, that if the giant doubts anything about it you may know
where to turn it over at the first, and when he sees it he will be fully
satisfied that the pie is made of the child.''
`She
agreed to the scheme I proposed, and, cutting off the child's finger, by her
direction I soon had it at the house she told me of, and brought her the little
pig in the place of it. She then made ready the pie, and after eating and
drinking heartily myself, I was just taking my leave of the young woman when we
observed the giant coming through the castle gates.
`
``Bless me,'' said she, ``what will you do now? Run away and lie down among the
dead bodies that he has in the room (showing me the place), and strip off your
clothes that he may not know you from the rest if he has occasion to go that
way.''
`I
took her advice, and laid myself down among the rest, as if dead, to see how he
would behave. The first thing I heard was him calling for his pie. When she set
it down before him he swore it smelled like swine's flesh, but knowing where to
find the finger, she immediately turned it up, which fairly convinced him of
the contrary. The pie only served to sharpen his appetite, and I heard him
sharpening his knife and saying he must have a collop or two, for he was not
near satisfied. But what was my terror when I heard the giant groping among the
bodies, and, fancying myself, cut the half of my hip off, and took it with him
to be roasted. You may be certain I was in great pain, but the fear of being
killed prevented me from making any complaint. However, when he had eaten all
he began to drink hot liquors in great abundance, so that in a short time he
could not hold up his head, but threw himself on a large creel he had made for
the purpose, and fell fast asleep. When I heard him snoring, as I was I went up
and caused the woman to bind my wound with a handkerchief; and, taking the
giant's spit, reddened it in the fire, and ran it through the eye, but was not
able to kill him.
`However,
I left the spit sticking in his head, and took to my heels; but I soon found he
was in pursuit of me, although blind; and having an enchanted ring he threw it
at me, and it fell on my big toe and remained fastened to it.
`The
giant then called to the ring, where it was, and to my great surprise it made
him answer on my foot; and he, guided by the same, made a leap at me which I
had the good luck to observe, and fortunately escaped the danger. However, I
found running was of no use in saving me, as long as I had the ring on my foot;
so I took my sword and cut off the toe it was fastened on, and threw both into
a large fish-pond that was convenient. The giant called again to the ring,
which by the power of enchantment always made him answer; but he, not knowing
what I had done, imagined it was still on some part of me, and made a violent
leap to seize me, when he went into the pond, over head and ears, and was
drowned. Now, sir knight,' says the Thief of Sloan, `you see what dangers I
came through and always escaped; but, indeed, I am lame for the want of my toe
ever since.'
`My
lord and master,' says an old woman that was listening all the time, `that
story is but too true, as I well know, for I am the very woman that was in the
giant's castle, and you, my lord, the child that I was to make into a pie; and
this is the very man that saved your life, which you may know by the want of
your finger that was taken off, as you have heard, to deceive the giant.'
The
Knight of the Glen, greatly surprised at what he had heard the old woman tell,
and knowing he wanted his finger from his childhood, began to understand that
the story was true enough.
`And
is this my deliverer?' says he. `O brave fellow, I not only pardon you all, but
will keep you with myself while you live, where you shall feast like princes,
and have every attendance that I have myself.'
They
all returned thanks on their knees, and the Black Thief told him the reason
they attempted to steal the Steed of Bells, and the necessity they were under
in going home.
`Well,'
says the Knight of the Glen, `if that's the case I bestow you my steed rather
than this brave fellow should die; so you may go when you please, only remember
to call and see me betimes, that we may know each other well.'
They
promised they would, and with great joy they set off for the King their
father's palace, and the Black Thief along with them.
The
wicked Queen was standing all this time on the tower, and, hearing the bells
ringing at a great distance off, knew very well it was the princes coming home,
and the steed with them, and through spite and vexation precipitated herself
from the tower and was shattered to pieces.
The
three princes lived happy and well during their father's reign, and always
keeping the Black Thief along with them; but how they did after the old King's
death is not known.[4]
[4]
The Hibernian Tales.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f06]
THE
MASTER THIEF
THERE
was once upon a time a husbandman who had three sons. He had no property to
bequeath to them, and no means of putting them in the way of getting a living,
and did not know what to do, so he said that they had his leave to take to
anything they most fancied, and go to any place they best liked. He would
gladly accompany them for some part of their way, he said, and that he did. He
went with them till they came to a place where three roads met, and there each
of them took his own way, and the father bade them farewell and returned to his
own home again. What became of the two elder I have never been able to
discover, but the youngest went both far and wide.
It
came to pass, one night, as he was going through a great wood, that a terrible
storm came on. It blew so hard and rained so heavily that he could scarcely
keep his eyes open, and before he was aware of it he had got quite out of the
track, and could neither find road nor path. But he went on, and at last he saw
a light far away in the wood. Then he thought he must try and get to it, and
after a long, long time he did reach it. There was a large house, and the fire
was burning so brightly inside that he could tell that the people were not in
bed. So he went in, and inside there was an old woman who was busy about some
work.
`Good
evening, mother!' said the youth.
`Good
evening!' said the old woman.
`Hutetu!
it is terrible weather outside to-night,' said the young fellow.
`Indeed
it is,' said the old woman.
`Can
I sleep here, and have shelter for the night?' asked the youth.
`It
wouldn't be good for you to sleep here,' said the old hag, `for if the people
of the house come home and find you, they will kill both you and me.'
`What
kind of people are they then, who dwell here?' said the youth.
`Oh!
robbers, and rabble of that sort,' said the old woman; `they stole me away when
I was little, and I have had to keep house for them ever since.'
`I
still think I will go to bed, all the same,' said the youth. `No matter what
happens, I'll not go out to-night in such weather as this.'
`Well,
then, it will be the worse for yourself,' said the old woman.
The
young man lay down in a bed which stood near, but he dared not go to sleep: and
it was better that he didn't, for the robbers came, and the old woman said that
a young fellow who was a stranger had come there, and she had not been able to
get him to go away again.
`Did
you see if he had any money?' said the robbers.
`He's
not one to have money, he is a tramp! If he has a few clothes to his back, that
is all.'
Then
the robbers began to mutter to each other apart about what they should do with
him, whether they should murder him, or what else they should do. In the
meantime the boy got up and began to talk to them, and ask them if they did not
want a man-servant, for he could find pleasure enough in serving them.
`Yes,'
said they, `if you have a mind to take to the trade that we follow, you may
have a place here.'
`It's
all the same to me what trade I follow,' said the youth, `for when I came away
from home my father gave me leave to take to any trade I fancied.'
`Have
you a fancy for stealing, then?' said the robbers.
`Yes,'
said the boy, for he thought that was a trade which would not take long to
learn.
Not
very far off there dwelt a man who had three oxen, one of which he was to take
to the town to sell. The robbers had heard of this, so they told the youth that
if he were able to steal the ox from him on the way, without his knowing, and
without doing him any harm, he should have leave to be their servant-man. So
the youth set off, taking with him a pretty shoe with a silver buckle that was
lying about in the house. He put this in the road by which the man must go with
his ox, and then went into the wood and hid himself under a bush. When the man
came up he at once saw the shoe.
`That's
a brave shoe,' said he. `If I had but the fellow to it, I would carry it home
with me, and then I should put my old woman into a good humour for once.'
For
he had a wife who was so cross and ill-tempered that the time between the
beatings she gave him was very short. But then he bethought himself that he
could do nothing with one shoe if he had not the fellow to it, so he journeyed
onwards and let it lie where it was. Then the youth picked up the shoe and
hurried off away through the wood as fast as he was able, to get in front of
the man, and then put the shoe in the road before him again.
When
the man came with the ox and saw the shoe, he was quite vexed at having been so
stupid as to leave the fellow to it lying where it was, instead of bringing it
on with him.
`I
will just run back again and fetch it now,' he said to himself, `and then I
shall take back a pair of good shoes to the old woman, and she may perhaps
throw a kind word to me for once.'
So
he went and searched and searched for the other shoe for a long, long time, but
no shoe was to be found, and at last he was forced to go back with the one
which he had.
In
the meantime the youth had taken the ox and gone off with it. When the man got
there and found that his ox was gone, he began to weep and wail, for he was
afraid that when his old woman got to know she would be the death of him. But
all at once it came into his head to go home and get the other ox, and drive it
to the town, and take good care that his old wife knew nothing about it. So he
did this; he went home and took the ox without his wife's knowing about it, and
went on his way to the town with it. But the robbers they knew it well, because
they got out their magic. So they told the youth that if he could take this ox
also without the man knowing anything about it, and without doing him any hurt,
he should then be on an equality with them.
`Well,
that will not be a very hard thing to do,' thought the youth.
This
time he took with him a rope and put it under his arms and tied himself up to a
tree, which hung over the road that the man would have to take. So the man came
with his ox, and when he saw the body hanging there he felt a little queer.
`What
a hard lot yours must have been to make you hang yourself!' said he. `Ah, well!
you may hang there for me; I can't breathe life into you again.'
So
on he went with his ox. Then the youth sprang down from the tree, ran by a
short cut and got before him, and once more hung himself up on a tree in the
road before the man.
`How
I should like to know if you really were so sick at heart that you hanged
yourself there, or if it is only a hobgoblin that's before me!' said the man.
`Ah, well! you may hang there for me, whether you are a hobgoblin or not,' and
on he went with his ox.
Once
more the youth did just as he had done twice already; jumped down from the
tree, ran by a short cut through the wood, and again hanged himself in the very
middle of the road before him.
But
when the man once more saw this he said to himself, `What a bad business this
is! Can they all have been so heavy. hearted that they have all three hanged
themselves? No, I can't believe that it is anything but witchcraft! But I will
know the truth,' he said; `if the two others are still hanging there it is true
but if they are not it's nothing else but witchcraft.'
So
he tied up his ox and ran back to see if they really were hanging there. While
he was going, and looking up at every tree as he went, the youth leapt down and
took his ox and went off with it. Any one may easily imagine what a fury the
man fell into when he came back and saw that his ox was gone. He wept and he
raged, but at last he took comfort and told himself that the best thing to do
was to go home and take the third ox, without letting his wife know anything
about it, and then try to sell it so well that he got a good sum of money for
it. So he went home and took the third ox, and drove it off without his wife
knowing anything about it. But the robbers knew all about it, and they told the
youth that if he could steal this as he had stolen the two others, he should be
master of the whole troop. So the youth set out and went to the wood, and when
the man was coming along with the ox he began to bellow loudly, just like a
great ox somewhere inside the wood. When the man heard that he was right glad,
for he fancied he recognised the voice of his big bullock, and thought that now
he should find both of them again. So he tied up the third, and ran away off
the road to look for them in the wood. In the meantime the youth went away with
the third ox. When the man returned and found that he had lost that too, he
fell into such a rage that there was no bounds to it. He wept and lamented, and
for many days he did not dare to go home again, for he was afraid that the old
woman would slay him outright. The robbers, also, were not very well pleased at
this, for they were forced to own that the youth was at the head of them all.
So one day they made up their minds to set to work to do something which it was
not in his power to accomplish, and they all took to the road together, and
left him at home alone. When they were well out of the house, the first thing
that he did was to drive the oxen out on the road, whereupon they all ran home
again to the man from whom he had stolen them, and right glad was the
husbandman to see them. Then he brought out all the horses the robbers had, and
loaded them with the most valuable things which he could find--vessels of gold
and of silver, and clothes and other magnificent things--and then he told the
old woman to greet the robbers from him and thank them from him, and say that
he had gone away, and that they would have a great deal of difficulty in
finding him again, and with that he drove the horses out of the courtyard.
After a long, long time he came to the road on which he was travelling when he
came to the robbers. And when he had got very near home, and was in sight of
the house where his father lived, he put on a uniform which he had found among
the things he had taken from the robbers, and which was made just like a
general's, and drove into the yard just as if he were a great man. Then he
entered the house and asked if he could find a lodging there.
`No,
indeed you can't!' said his father. `How could I possibly be able to lodge such
a great gentleman as you? It is all that I can do to find clothes and bedding
for myself, and wretched they are.'
`You
were always a hard man,' said the youth, `and hard you are still if you refuse
to let your own son come into your house.'
`Are
you my son?' said the man.
`Do
you not know me again then?' said the youth.
Then
he recognised him and said, `But what trade have you taken to that has made you
such a great man in so short a time?'
`Oh,
that I will tell you,' answered the youth. `You said that I might take to
anything I liked, so I apprenticed myself to some thieves and robbers, and now
I have served my time and have become Master Thief.'
Now
the Governor of the province lived by his father's cottage, and this Governor
had such a large house and so much money that he did not even know how much it
was, and he had a daughter too who was both pretty and dainty, and good and
wise. So the Master Thief was determined to have her to wife, and told his
father that he was to go to the Governor, and ask for his daughter for him. `If
he asks what trade I follow, you may say that I am a Master Thief,' said he.
`I
think you must be crazy,' said the man, `for you can't be in your senses if you
think of anything so foolish.'
`You
must go to the Governor and beg for his daughter--there is no help,' said the
youth.
`But
I dare not go to the Governor and say this. He is so rich and has so much
wealth of all kinds,' said the man.
`There
is no help for it,' said the Master Thief; `go you must, whether you like it or
not. If I can't get you to go by using good words, I will soon make you go with
bad ones.'
But
the man was still unwilling, so the Master Thief followed him, threatening him
with a great birch stick, till he went weeping and wailing through the door to
the Governor of the province.
`Now,
my man, and what's amiss with you?' said the Governor.
So
he told him that he had three sons who had gone away one day, and how he had
given them permission to go where they chose, and take to whatsoever work they
fancied. `Now,' he said, `the youngest of them has come home, and has
threatened me till I have come to you to ask for your daughter for him, and I
am to say that he is a Master Thief,' and again the man fell a-weeping and
lamenting.
`Console
yourself, my man,' said the Governor, laughing. `You may tell him from me that
he must first give me some proof of this. If he can steal the joint off the
spit in the kitchen on Sunday, when every one of us is watching it, he shall
have my daughter. Will you tell him that?'
The
man did tell him, and the youth thought it would be easy enough to do it. So he
set himself to work to catch three hares alive, put them in a bag, clad himself
in some old rags so that he looked so poor and wretched that it was quite
pitiable to see him, and in this guise on Sunday forenoon he sneaked into the
passage with his bag, like any beggar boy. The Governor himself and every one
in the house was in the kitchen, keeping watch over the joint. While they were
doing this the youth let one of the hares slip out of his bag, and off it set
and began to run round the yard.
`Just
look at that hare,' said the people in the kitchen, and wanted to go out and
catch it.
The
Governor saw it too, but said, `Oh, let it go! it's no use to think of catching
a hare when it's running away.'
It
was not long before the youth let another hare out, and the people in the
kitchen saw this too, and thought that it was the same. So again they wanted to
go out and catch it, but the Governor again told them that it was of no use to
try.
Very
soon afterwards, however, the youth let slip the third hare, and it set off and
ran round and round the courtyard. The people in the kitchen saw this too, and
believed that it was still the same hare that was running about, so they wanted
to go out and catch it.
`It's
a remarkably fine hare!' said the Governor. `Come and let us see if we can get
hold of it.' So out he went, and the others with him, and away went the hare,
and they after it, in real earnest.
In
the meantime, however, the Master Thief took the joint and ran off with it, and
whether the Governor got any roast meat for his dinner that day I know not, but
I know that he had no roast hare, though he chased it till he was both hot and
tired. At noon came the Priest, and when the Governor had told him of the trick
played by the Master Thief there was no end to the ridicule he cast on the
Governor.
`For
my part,' said the Priest, `I can't imagine myself being made a fool of by such
a fellow as that!'
`Well,
I advise you to be careful,' said the Governor, `for he may be with you before
you are at all aware.'
But
the Priest repeated what he had said, and mocked the Governor for having
allowed himself to be made such a fool of.
Later
in the afternoon the Master Thief came and wanted to have the Governor's
daughter as he had promised.
`You
must first give some more samples of your skill,' said the Governor, trying to
speak him fair, `for what you did to-day was no such very great thing after
all. Couldn't you play off a really good trick on the Priest? for he is sitting
inside there and calling me a fool for having let myself be taken in by such a
fellow as you.'
`Well,
it wouldn't be very hard to do that,' said the Master Thief. So he dressed
himself up like a bird, and threw a great white sheet over himself; broke off a
goose's wings, and set them on his back; and in this attire climbed into a
great maple tree which stood in the Priest's garden. So when the Priest
returned home in the evening the youth began to cry, `Father Lawrence! Father
Lawrence! `for the Priest was called Father Lawrence.
`Who
is calling me?' said the Priest.
`I
am an angel sent to announce to thee that because of thy piety thou shalt be
taken away alive into heaven,' said the Master Thief. `Wilt thou hold thyself
in readiness to travel away next Monday night? for then will I come and fetch
thee, and bear thee away with me in a sack, and thou must lay all thy gold and
silver, and whatsoever thou may 'st possess of this world's wealth, in a heap
in thy best parlour.'
So
Father Lawrence fell down on his knees before the angel and thanked him, and
the following Sunday he preached a farewell sermon, and gave out that an angel
had come down into the large maple tree in his garden, and had announced to him
that, because of his righteousness, he should be taken up alive into heaven,
and as he thus preached and told them this everyone in the church, old or
young, wept.
On
Monday night the Master Thief once more came as an angel, and before the Priest
was put into the sack he fell on his knees and thanked him; but no sooner was
the Priest safely inside it than the Master Thief began to drag him away over
stocks and stones.
`Oh!
oh! `cried the Priest in the sack. `Where are you taking me?'
`This
is the way to heaven. The way to heaven is not an easy one,' said the Master
Thief, and dragged him along till he all but killed him.
At
last he flung him into the Governor's goose-house, and the geese began to hiss
and peck at him, till he felt more dead than alive.
`Oh!
oh! oh! Where am I now?' asked the Priest.
`Now
you are in Purgatory,' said the Master Thief, and off he went and took the gold
and the silver and all the precious things which the Priest had laid together
in his best parlour.
Next
morning, when the goose-girl came to let out the geese, she heard the Priest
bemoaning himself as he lay in the sack in the goose-house.
`Oh,
heavens! who is that, and what ails you?' said she.
`Oh,'
said the Priest, `if you are an angel from heaven do let me out and let me go
back to earth again, for no place was ever so bad as this--the little fiends
nip me so with their tongs.'
`I
am no angel,' said the girl, and helped the Priest out of the sack. `I only
look after the Governor's geese, that's what I do, and they are the little
fiends which have pinched your reverence.'
`This
is the Master Thief's doing! Oh, my gold and my silver and my best clothes!'
shrieked the Priest, and, wild with rage, he ran home so fast that the
goose-girl thought he had suddenly gone mad.
When
the Governor learnt what had happened to the Priest he laughed till he nearly
killed himself, but when the Master Thief came and wanted to have his daughter
according to promise, he once more gave him nothing but fine words, and said,
`You must give me one more proof of your skill, so that I can really judge of
your worth. I have twelve horses in my stable, and I will put twelve stable
boys in it, one on each horse. If you are clever enough to steal the horses
from under them, I will see what I can do for you.'
`What
you set me to do can be done,' said the Master Thief, `but am I certain to get
your daughter when it is?'
`Yes;
if you can do that I will do my best for you,' said the Governor.
So
the Master Thief went to a shop, and bought enough brandy to fill two pocket
flasks, and he put a sleeping drink into one of these, but into the other he
poured brandy only. Then he engaged eleven men to lie that night in hiding
behind the Governor's stable. After this, by fair words and good payment, he
borrowed a ragged gown and a jerkin from an aged woman, and then, with a staff
in his hand and a poke on his back, he hobbled off as evening came on towards
the Governor's stable. The stable boys were just watering the horses for the
night, and it was quite as much as they could do to attend to that.
`What
on earth do you want here?' said one of them to the old woman.
`Oh
dear! oh dear! How cold it is!' she said, sobbing, and shivering with cold. `Oh
dear! oh dear! it's cold enough to freeze a poor old body to death!' and she
shivered and shook again, and said, `For heaven's sake give me leave to stay
here and sit just inside the stable door.'
`You
will get nothing of the kind! Be off this moment! If the Governor were to catch
sight of you here, he would lead us a pretty dance,' said one.
`Oh!
what a poor helpless old creature!' said another, who felt sorry for her. `That
poor old woman can do no harm to anyone. She may sit there and welcome.'
The
rest of them thought that she ought not to stay, but while they were disputing
about this and looking after the horses, she crept farther and farther into the
stable, and at last sat down behind the door, and when once she was inside no
one took any more notice of her.
As
the night wore on the stable boys found it rather cold work to sit still on
horseback.
`Hutetu!
But it is fearfully cold!' said one, and began to beat his arms backwards and
forwards across his breast.
`Yes,
I am so cold that my teeth are chattering,' said another.
`If
one had but a little tobacco,' said a third.
Well,
one of them had a little, so they shared it among them, though there was very
little for each man, but they chewed it. This was some help to them, but very
soon they were just as cold as before.
`Hutetu!'
said one of them, shivering again.
`Hutetu!'
said the old woman, gnashing her teeth together till they chattered inside her
mouth; and then she got out the flask which contained nothing but brandy, and
her hands trembled so that she shook the bottle about, and when she drank it
made a great gulp in her throat.
`What
is that you have in your flask, old woman?' asked one of the stable boys.
`Oh,
it's only a little drop of brandy, your honour,' she said.
`Brandy!
What! Let me have a drop! Let me have a drop!' screamed all the twelve at once.
`Oh,
but what I have is so little,' whimpered the old woman. `It will not even wet
your mouths.'
But
they were determined to have it, and there was nothing to be done but give it;
so she took out the flask with the sleeping drink and put it to the lips of the
first of them; and now she shook no more, but guided the flask so that each of
them got just as much as he ought, and the twelfth had not done drinking before
the first was already sitting snoring. Then the Master Thief flung off his
beggar's rags, and took one stable boy after the other and gently set him
astride on the partitions which divided the stalls, and then he called his
eleven men who were waiting outside, and they rode off with the Governor's
horses.
In
the morning when the Governor came to look after his stable boys they were just
beginning to come to again. They were driving their spurs into the partition
till the splinters flew about, and some of the boys fell off, and some still
hung on and sat looking like fools. `Ah, well,' said the Governor, `it is easy
to see who has been here; but what a worthless set of fellows you must be to
sit here and let the Master Thief steal the horses from under you!' And they
all got a beating for not having kept watch better.
Later
in the day the Master Thief came and related what he had done, and wanted to
have the Governor's daughter as had been promised. But the Governor gave him a
hundred dollars, and said that he must do something that was better still.
`Do
you think you can steal my horse from under me when I am out riding on it?'
said he.
`Well,
it might be done,' said the Master Thief, `if I were absolutely certain that I
should get your daughter.'
So
the Governor said that he would see what he could do, and then he said that on
a certain day he would ride out to a great common where they drilled the
soldiers.
So
the Master Thief immediately got hold of an old worn-out mare, and set himself
to work to make a collar for it of green withies and branches of broom; bought
a shabby old cart and a great cask, and then he told a poor old beggar woman
that he would give her ten dollars if she would get into the cask and keep her
mouth wide-open beneath the tap-hole, into which he was going to stick his
finger. No harm should happen to her, he said; she should only be driven about
a little, and if he took his finger out more than once, she should have ten
dollars more. Then he dressed himself in rags, dyed himself with soot, and put
on a wig and a great beard of goat's hair, so that it was impossible to
recognise him, and went to the parade ground, where the Governor had already
been riding about a long time.
When
the Master Thief got there the mare went along so slowly and quietly that the
cart hardly seemed to move from the spot. The mare pulled it a little forward,
and then a little back, and then it stopped quite short. Then the mare pulled a
little forward again, and it moved with such difficulty that the Governor had
not the least idea that this was the Master Thief. He rode straight up to him,
and asked if he had seen anyone hiding anywhere about in a wood that was close
by.
`No,'
said the man, `that have I not.'
`Hark
you,' said the Governor. `If you will ride into that wood, and search it
carefully to see if you can light upon a fellow who is hiding in there, you
shall have the loan of my horse and a good present of money for your trouble.'
`I
am not sure that I can do it,' said the man, `for I have to go to a wedding
with this cask of mead which I have been to fetch, and the tap has fallen out
on the way, so now I have to keep my finger in the tap-hole as I drive.'
`Oh,
just ride off,' said the Governor, `and I will look after the cask and the
horse too.'
So
the man said that if he would do that he would go, but he begged the Governor
to be very careful to put his finger into the tap-hole the moment he took his
out.
So
the Governor said that he would do his very best, and the Master Thief got on
the Governor's horse.
But
time passed, and it grew later and later, and still the man did not come back,
and at last the Governor grew so weary of keeping his finger in the tap-hole
that he took it out.
`Now
I shall have ten dollars more!' cried the old woman inside the cask; so he soon
saw what kind of mead it was, and set out homewards. When he had gone a very
little way he met his servant bringing him the horse, for the Master Thief had
already taken it home.
The
following day he went to the Governor and wanted to have his daughter according
to promise. But the Governor again put him off with fine words, and only gave
him three hundred dollars, saying that he must do one more masterpiece of
skill, and if he were but able to do that he should have her.
Well,
the Master Thief thought he might if he could hear what it was.
`Do
you think you can steal the sheet off our bed, and my wife's night-gown?' said
the Governor.
`That
is by no means impossible,' said the Master Thief. `I only wish I could get
your daughter as easily.'
So
late at night the Master Thief went and cut down a thief who was hanging on the
gallows, laid him on his own shoulders, and took him away with him. Then he got
hold of a long ladder, set it up against the Governor's bedroom window, and
climbed up and moved the dead man's head up and down, just as if he were some
one who was standing outside and peeping in.
`There's
the Master Thief, mother!' said the Governor, nudging his wife. `Now I'll just
shoot him, that I will!'
So
he took up a rifle which he had laid at his bedside.
`Oh
no, you must not do that,' said his wife; `you yourself arranged that he was to
come here.'
`Yes,
mother, I will shoot him,' said he, and lay there aiming, and then aiming again,
for no sooner was the head up and he caught sight of it than it was gone again.
At last he got a chance and fired, and the dead body fell with a loud thud to
the ground, and down went the Master Thief too, as fast as he could.
`Well,'
said the Governor, `I certainly am the chief man about here, but people soon
begin to talk, and it would be very unpleasant if they were to see this dead
body; the best thing that I can do is to go out and bury him.'
`Just
do what you think best, father,' said his wife.
So
the Governor got up and went downstairs, and as soon as he had gone out through
the door, the Master Thief stole in and went straight upstairs to the woman.
`Well,
father dear,' said she, for she thought it was her husband. `Have you got done
already?'
`Oh
yes, I only put him into a hole,' said he, `and raked a little earth over him;
that's all I have been able to do to-night, for it is fearful weather outside.
I will bury him better afterwards, but just let me have the sheet to wipe myself
with, for he was bleeding, and I have got covered with blood with carrying
him.'
So
she gave him the sheet.
`You
will have to let me have your night-gown too,' he said, `for I begin to see
that the sheet won't be enough.'
Then
she gave him her night-gown, but just then it came into his head that he had
forgotten to lock the door, and he was forced to go downstairs and do it before
he could lie down in bed again. So off he went with the sheet, and the
night-gown too.
An
hour later the real Governor returned.
`Well,
what a time it has taken to lock the house door, father!' said his wife, `and
what have you done with the sheet and the night-gown?'
`What
do you mean?' asked the Governor.
`Oh,
I am asking you what you have done with the night-gown and sheet that you got
to wipe the blood off yourself with,' said she.
`Good
heavens!' said the Governor, `has he actually got the better of me again?'
When
day came the Master Thief came too, and wanted to have the Governor's daughter
as had been promised, and the Governor dared do no otherwise than give her to
him, and much money besides, for he feared that if he did not the Master Thief
might steal the very eyes out of his head, and that he himself would be ill
spoken of by all men. The Master Thief lived well and happily from that time
forth, and whether he ever stole any more or not I cannot tell you, but if he
did it was but for pastime.
[5]
From P. C. Asbjornsen.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f07]
BROTHER
AND SISTER
BROTHER
took sister by the hand and said: `Look here; we haven't had one single happy
hour since our mother died. That stepmother of ours beats us regularly every
day, and if we dare go near her she kicks us away. We never get anything but
hard dry crusts to eat--why, the dog under the table is better off than we are.
She does throw him a good morsel or two now and then. Oh dear! if our own dear
mother only knew all about it! Come along, and let us go forth into the wide
world together.'
So
off they started through fields and meadows, over hedges and ditches, and
walked the whole day long, and when it rained sister said:
`Heaven
and our hearts are weeping together.'
Towards
evening they came to a large forest, and were so tired out with hunger and
their long walk, as well as all their trouble, that they crept into a hollow
tree and soon fell fast asleep.
Next
morning, when they woke up, the sun was already high in the heavens and was
shining down bright and warm into the tree. Then said brother:
`I'm
so thirsty, sister; if I did but know where to find a little stream, I'd go and
have a drink. I do believe I hear one.' He jumped up, took sister by the hand,
and they set off to hunt for the brook.
Now
their cruel stepmother was in reality a witch, and she knew perfectly well that
the two children had run away. She had crept secretly after them, and had cast
her spells over all the streams in the forest.
Presently
the children found a little brook dancing and glittering over the stones, and
brother was eager to drink of it, but as it rushed past sister heard it
murmmuring:
`Who
drinks of me will be a tiger! who drinks of me will be a tiger!'
So
she cried out, `Oh! dear brother, pray don't drink, or you'll be turned into a
wild beast and tear me to pieces.'
Brother
was dreadfully thirsty, but he did not drink.
`Very
well,' said he, `I'll wait till we come to the next spring.'
When
they came to the second brook, sister heard it repeating too:
`Who
drinks of me will be a wolf I who drinks of me will be a wolf!'
And
she cried, `Oh! brother, pray don't drink here either, or you'll be turned into
a wolf and eat me up.'
Again
brother did not drink, but he said:
`Well,
I'll wait a little longer till we reach the next stream, but then, whatever you
may say, I really must drink, for I can bear this thirst no longer.'
And
when they got to the third brook, sister heard it say as it rushed past:
`Who
drinks of me will be a roe! who drinks of me will be a roe!'
And
she begged, `Ah! brother, don't drink yet, or you'll become a roe and run away
from me.'
But
her brother was already kneeling by the brook and bending over it to drink,
and, sure enough, no sooner had his lips touched the water than he fell on the
grass transformed into a little Roebuck.
Sister
cried bitterly over her poor bewitched brother, and the little Roe wept too,
and sat sadly by her side. At last the girl said:
`Never
mind, dear little fawn, I will never forsake you,' and she took off her golden
garter and tied it round the Roe's neck.
Then
she plucked rushes and plaited a soft cord of them, which she fastened to the
collar. When she had done this she led the Roe farther and farther, right into
the depths of the forest.
After
they had gone a long, long way they came to a little house, and when the girl
looked into it she found it was quite empty, and she thought `perhaps we might
stay and live here.'
So
she hunted up leaves and moss to make a soft bed for the little Roe, and every
morning and evening she went out and gathered roots, nuts, and berries for
herself, and tender young grass for the fawn. And he fed from her hand, and
played round her and seemed quite happy. In the evening, when sister was tired,
she said her prayers and then laid her head on the fawn's back and fell sound
asleep with it as a pillow. And if brother had but kept his natural form,
really it would have been a most delightful kind of life.
They
had been living for some time in the forest in this way, when it came to pass
that the King of that country had a great hunt through the woods. Then the
whole forest rang with such a blowing of horns, baying of dogs, and joyful
cries of huntsmen, that the little Roe heard it and longed to join in too.
`Ah!'
said he to sister, `do let me go off to the hunt! I can't keep still any
longer.'
And
he begged and prayed till at last she consented.
`But,'
said she, `mind you come back in the evening. I shall lock my door fast for
fear of those wild huntsmen; so, to make sure of my knowing you, knock at the
door and say, ``My sister dear, open; I'm here.'' If you don't speak I shan't
open the door.'
So
off sprang the little Roe, and he felt quite well and happy in the free open
air.
The
King and his huntsmen soon saw the beautiful creature and started in pursuit,
but they could not come up with it, and whenever they thought they were sure to
catch it, it bounded off to one side into the bushes and disappeared. When
night came on it ran home, and knocking at the door of the little house cried:
`My
sister dear, open; I'm here.' The door opened, and he ran in and rested all
night on his soft mossy bed.
Next
morning the hunt began again, and as soon as the little Roe heard the horns and
the `Ho! ho! `of the huntsmen, he could not rest another moment, and said:
`Sister,
open the door, I must get out.'
So
sister opened the door and said, `Now mind and get back by nightfall, and say
your little rhyme.'
As
soon as the King and his huntsmen saw the Roe with the golden collar they all
rode off after it, but it was far too quick and nimble for them. This went on
all day, but as evening came on the huntsmen had gradually encircled the Roe,
and one of them wounded it slightly in the foot, so that it limped and ran off
slowly.
Then
the huntsman stole after it as far as the little house, and heard it call out,
`My sister dear, open; I'm here,' and he saw the door open and close
immediately the fawn had run in.
The
huntsman remembered all this carefully, and went off straight to the King and
told him all he had seen and heard.
`To-morrow
we will hunt again,' said the King.
Poor
sister was terribly frightened when she saw how her little Fawn had been
wounded. She washed off the blood, bound up the injured foot with herbs, and
said: `Now, dear, go and lie down and rest, so that your wound may heal.'
The
wound was really so slight that it was quite well next day, and the little Roe
did not feel it at all. No sooner did it hear the sounds of hunting in the
forest than it cried:
`I
can't stand this, I must be there too; I'll take care they shan't catch me.'
Sister
began to cry, and said, `They are certain to kill you, and then I shall be left
all alone in the forest and forsaken by everyone. I can't and won't let you
out.'
`Then
I shall die of grief,' replied the Roe, `for when I hear that horn I feel as if
I must jump right out of my skin.'
So
at last, when sister found there was nothing else to be done, she opened the
door with a heavy heart, and the Roe darted forth full of glee and health into
the forest.
As
soon as the King saw the Roe, he said to his huntsman, `Now then, give chase to
it all day till evening, but mind and be careful not to hurt it.'
When
the sun had set the King said to his huntsman, `Now come and show me the little
house in the wood.'
And
when he got to the house he knocked at the door and said, `My sister dear,
open; I'm here.' Then the door opened and the King walked in, and there stood
the loveliest maiden he had ever seen.
The
girl was much startled when instead of the little Roe she expected she saw a
man with a gold crown on his head walk in. But the King looked kindly at her,
held out his hand, and said, `Will you come with me to my castle and be my dear
wife?'
`Oh
yes!' replied the maiden, `but you must let my Roe come too. I could not
possibly forsake it.'
`It
shall stay with you as long as you live, and shall want for nothing,' the King
promised.
In
the meantime the Roe came bounding in, and sister tied the rush cord once more
to its collar, took the end in her hand, and so they left the little house in
the forest together.
The
King lifted the lonely maiden on to his horse, and led her to his castle, where
the wedding was celebrated with the greatest splendour. The Roe was petted and
caressed, and ran about at will in the palace gardens.
Now
all this time the wicked stepmother, who had been the cause of these poor
children's misfortunes and trying adventures, was feeling fully persuaded that
sister had been torn to pieces by wild beasts, and brother shot to death in the
shape of a Roe. When she heard how happy and prosperous they were, her heart
was filled with envy and hatred, and she could think of nothing but how to
bring some fresh misfortune on them. Her own daughter, who was as hideous as
night and had only one eye, reproached her by saying, `It is I who ought to
have had this good luck and been Queen.'
`Be
quiet, will you,' said the old woman; `when the time comes I shall be at hand.'
Now
after some time it happened one day when the King was out hunting that the
Queen gave birth to a beautiful little boy. The old witch thought here was a
good chance for her; so she took the form of the lady in waiting, and, hurrying
into the room where the Queen lay in her bed, called out, `The bath is quite
ready; it will help to make you strong again. Come, let us be quick, for fear
the water should get cold.' Her daughter was at hand, too, and between them
they carried the Queen, who was still very weak, into the bath-room and laid
her in the bath; then they locked the door and ran away.
They
took care beforehand to make a blazing hot fire under the bath, so that the
lovely young Queen might be suffocated.
As
soon as they were sure this was the case, the old witch tied a cap on her
daughter's head and laid her in the Queen's bed. She managed, too, to make her
figure and general appearance look like the Queen's, but even her power could
not restore the eye she had lost; so she made her lie on the side of the
missing eye, in order to prevent the King's noticing anything.
In
the evening, when the King came home and heard the news of his son's birth, he
was full of delight, and insisted on going at once to his dear wife's bedside
to see how she was getting on. But the old witch cried out, `Take care and keep
the curtains drawn; don't let the light get into the Queen's eyes; she must be
kept perfectly quiet.' So the King went away and never knew that it was a false
Queen who lay in the bed.
When
midnight came and everyone in the palace was sound asleep, the nurse who alone
watched by the baby's cradle in the nursery saw the door open gently, and who
should come in but the real Queen. She lifted the child from its cradle, laid
it on her arm, and nursed it for some time. Then she carefully shook up the
pillows of the little bed, laid the baby down and tucked the coverlet in all
round him. She did not forget the little Roe either, but went to the corner
where it lay, and gently stroked its back. Then she silently left the room, and
next morning when the nurse asked the sentries if they had seen any one go into
the castle that night, they all said, `No, we saw no one at all.'
For
many nights the Queen came in the same way, but she never spoke a word, and the
nurse was too frightened to say anything about her visits.
After
some little time had elapsed the Queen spoke one night, and said:
`Is
my child well? Is my Roe well? I'll come back twice and then farewell.'
The
nurse made no answer, but as soon as the Queen had disappeared she went to the
King and told him all. The King exclaimed, `Good heavens! what do you say? I
will watch myself to-night by the child's bed.'
When
the evening came he went to the nursery, and at midnight the Queen appeared and
said:
`Is
my child well? Is my Roe well? I'll come back once and then farewell.'
And
she nursed and petted the child as usual before she disappeared. The King dared
not trust himself to speak to her, but the following night he kept watch again.
That
night when the Queen came she said:
`Is
my child well? Is my Roe well? I've come this once, and now farewell.'
Then
the King could restrain himself no longer, but sprang to her side and cried,
`You can be no one but my dear wife!'
`Yes,'
said she, `I am your dear wife!' and in the same moment she was restored to
life, and was as fresh and well and rosy as ever. Then she told the King all
the cruel things the wicked witch and her daughter had done. The King had them
both arrested at once and brought to trial, and they were condemned to death.
The daughter was led into the forest, where the wild beasts tore her to pieces,
and the old witch was burnt at the stake.
As
soon as she reduced to ashes the spell was taken off the little Roe, and he was
restored to his natural shape once more, and so brother and sister lived
happily ever after.[6]
[6]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f08]
PRINCESS
ROSETTE
ONCE
upon a time there lived a King and Queen who had two beautiful sons and one
little daughter, who was so pretty that no one who saw her could help loving
her. When it was time for the christening of the Princess, the Queen--as she
always did--sent for all the fairies to be present at the ceremony, and
afterwards invited them to a splendid banquet.
When
it was over, and they were preparing to go away, the Queen said to them:
`Do
not forget your usual good custom. Tell me what is going to happen to Rosette.'
For
that was the name they had given the Princess.
But
the fairies said they had left their book of magic at home, and they would come
another day and tell her.
`Ah!'
said the Queen, `I know very well what that means--you have nothing good to
say; but at least I beg that you will not hide anything from me.'
So,
after a great deal of persuasion, they said:
`Madam,
we fear that Rosette may be the cause of great misfortunes to her brothers;
they may even meet with their death through her; that is all we have been able
to foresee about your dear little daughter. We are very sorry to have nothing
better to tell you.'
Then
they went away, leaving the Queen very sad, so sad that the King noticed it,
and asked her what was the matter.
The
Queen said that she had been sitting too near the fire, and had burnt all the
flax that was upon her distaff.
`Oh!
is that all?' said the King, and he went up into the garret and brought her
down more flax than she could spin in a hundred years. But the Queen still
looked sad, and the King asked her again what was the matter. She answered that
she had been walking by the river and had dropped one of her green satin
slippers into the water.
`Oh!
if that's all,' said the King, and he sent to all the shoe-makers in his kingdom,
and they very soon made the Queen ten thousand green satin slippers, but still
she looked sad. So the King asked her again what was the matter, and this time
she answered that in eating her porridge too hastily she had swallowed her
wedding-ring. But it so happened that the King knew better, for he had the ring
himself, and he said:
`Oh
I you are not telling me the truth, for I have your ring here in my purse.'
Then
the Queen was very much ashamed, and she saw that the King was vexed with her;
so she told him all that the fairies had predicted about Rosette, and begged
him to think how the misfortunes might be prevented.
Then
it was the King's turn to look sad, and at last he said:
`I
see no way of saving our sons except by having Rosette's head cut off while she
is still little.'
But
the Queen cried that she would far rather have her own head cut off, and that
he had better think of something else, for she would never consent to such a
thing. So they thought and thought, but they could not tell what to do, until
at last the Queen heard that in a great forest near the castle there was an old
hermit, who lived in a hollow tree, and that people came from far and near to
consult him; so she said:
`I
had better go and ask his advice; perhaps he will know what to do to prevent
the misfortunes which the fairies foretold.'
She
set out very early the next morning, mounted upon a pretty little white mule,
which was shod with solid gold, and two of her ladies rode behind her on
beautiful horses. When they reached the forest they dismounted, for the trees
grew so thickly that the horses could not pass, and made their way on foot to
the hollow tree where the hermit lived. At first when he saw them coming he was
vexed, for he was not fond of ladies; but when he recognised the Queen, he
said:
`You
are welcome, Queen. What do you come to ask of me?'
Then
the Queen told him all the fairies had foreseen for Rosette, and asked what she
should do, and the hermit answered that she must shut the Princess up in a
tower and never let her come out of it again. The Queen thanked and rewarded
him, and hastened back to the castle to tell the King. When he heard the news
he had a great tower built as quickly as possible, and there the Princess was
shut up, and the King and Queen and her two brothers went to see her every day
that she might not be dull. The eldest brother was called `the Great Prince,'
and the second `the Little Prince.' They loved their sister dearly, for she was
the sweetest, prettiest princess who was ever seen, and the least little smile
from her was worth more than a hundred pieces of gold. When Rosette was fifteen
years old the Great Prince went to the King and asked if it would not soon be
time for her to be married, and the Little Prince put the same question to the
Queen.
Their
majesties were amused at them for thinking of it, but did not make any reply,
and soon after both the King and the Queen were taken ill, and died on the same
day. Everybody was sorry, Rosette especially, and all the bells in the kingdom
were tolled.
Then
all the dukes and counsellors put the Great Prince upon a golden throne, and
crowned him with a diamond crown, and they all cried, `Long live the King!' And
after that there was nothing but feasting and rejoicing.
The
new King and his brother said to one another:
`Now
that we are the masters, let us take our sister out of that dull tower which
she is so tired of.'
They
had only to go across the garden to reach the tower, which was very high, and
stood up in a corner. Rosette was busy at her embroidery, but when she saw her
brothers she got up, and taking the King's hand cried:
`Good
morning, dear brother. Now that you are King, please take me out of this dull
tower, for I am so tired of it.'
Then
she began to cry, but the King kissed her and told her to dry her tears, as
that was just what they had come for, to take her out of the tower and bring
her to their beautiful castle, and the Prince showed her the pocketful of sugar
plums he had brought for her, and said:
`Make
haste, and let us get away from this ugly tower, and very soon the King will
arrange a grand marriage for you.'
When
Rosette saw the beautiful garden, full of fruit and flowers, with green grass
and sparkling fountains, she was so astonished that not a word could she say,
for she had never in her life seen anything like it before. She looked about
her, and ran hither and thither gathering fruit and flowers, and her little dog
Frisk, who was bright green all over, and had but one ear, danced before her,
crying `Bow-wow-wow,' and turning head over heels in the most enchanting way.
Everybody
was amused at Frisk's antics, but all of a sudden he ran away into a little
wood, and the Princess was following him, when, to her great delight, she saw a
peacock, who was spreading his tail in the sunshine. Rosette thought she had
never seen anything so pretty. She could not take her eyes off him, and there
she stood entranced until the King and the Prince came up and asked what was
amusing her so much. She showed them the peacock, and asked what it was, and
they answered that it was a bird which people sometimes ate.
`What!'
said the Princess, `do they dare to kill that beautiful creature and eat it? I
declare that I will never marry any one but the King of the Peacocks, and when
I am Queen I will take very good care that nobody eats any of my subjects.'
At
this the King was very much astonished.
`But,
little sister,' said he, `where shall we find the King of the Peacocks?'
`Oh!
wherever you like, sire,' she answered, `but I will never marry any one else.'
After
this they took Rosette to the beautiful castle, and the peacock was brought
with her, and told to walk about on the terrace outside her windows, so that
she might always see him, and then the ladies of the court came to see the
Princess, and they brought her beautiful presents--dresses and ribbons and
sweetmeats, diamonds and pearls and dolls and embroidered slippers, and she was
so well brought up, and said, `Thank you!' so prettily, and was so gracious,
that everyone went away delighted with her.
Meanwhile
the King and the Prince were considering how they should find the King of the
Peacocks, if there was such a person in the world. And first of all they had a
portrait made of the Princess, which was so like her that you really would not
have been surprised if it had spoken to you. Then they said to her:
`Since
you will not marry anyone but the King of the Peacocks, we are going out
together into the wide world to search for him. If we find him for you we shall
be very glad. In the meantime, mind you take good care of our kingdom.'
Rosette
thanked them for all the trouble they were taking on her account, and promised
to take great care of the kingdom, and only to amuse herself by looking at the
peacock, and making Frisk dance while they were away.
So
they set out, and asked everyone they met--
`Do
you know the King of the Peacocks?'
But
the answer was always, `No, no.'
Then
they went on and on, so far that no one has ever been farther, and at last they
came to the Kingdom of the Cockchafers.
They
had never before seen such a number of cockchafers, and the buzzing was so loud
that the King was afraid he should be deafened by it. He asked the most distinguished-looking
cockchafer they met if he knew where they could find the King of the Peacocks.
`Sire,'
replied the cockchafer, `his kingdom is thirty thousand leagues from this; you
have come the longest way.'
`And
how do you know that?' said the King.
`Oh!'
said the cockchafer, `we all know you very well, since we spend two or three
months in your garden every year.'
Thereupon
the King and the Prince made great friends with him, and they all walked
arm-in-arm and dined together, and afterwards the cockchafer showed them all
the curiosities of his strange country, where the tiniest green leaf costs a
gold piece and more. Then they set out again to finish their journey, and this
time, as they knew the way, they were not long upon the road. It was easy to
guess that they had come to the right place, for they saw peacocks in every
tree, and their cries could be heard a long way off:
When
they reached the city they found it full of men and women who were dressed
entirely in peacocks' feathers, which were evidently thought prettier than
anything else.
They
soon met the King, who was driving about in a beautiful little golden carriage
which glittered with diamonds, and was drawn at full speed by twelve peacocks.
The King and the Prince were delighted to see that the King of the Peacocks was
as handsome as possible. He had curly golden hair and was very pale, and he
wore a crown of peacocks' feathers.
When
he saw Rosette's brothers he knew at once that they were strangers, and
stopping his carriage he sent for them to speak to him. When they had greeted
him they said:
`Sire,
we have come from very far away to show you a beautiful portrait.'
So
saying they drew from their travelling bag the picture of Rosette.
The
King looked at it in silence a long time, but at last he said:
`I
could not have believed that there was such a beautiful Princess in the world!'
`Indeed,
she is really a hundred times as pretty as that,' said her brothers.
`I
think you must be making fun of me,' replied the King of the Peacocks.
`Sire,'
said the Prince, `my brother is a King, like yourself. He is called ``the
King,'' I am called ``the Prince,'' and that is the portrait of our sister, the
Princess Rosette. We have come to ask if you would like to marry her. She is as
good as she is beautiful, and we will give her a bushel of gold pieces for her
dowry.'
`Oh!
with all my heart,' replied the King, `and I will make her very happy. She
shall have whatever she likes, and I shall love her dearly; only I warn you
that if she is not as pretty as you have told me, I will have your heads cut
off.'
`Oh!
certainly, we quite agree to that,' said the brothers in one breath.
`Very
well. Off with you into prison, and stay there until the Princess arrives,'
said the King of the Peacocks.
And
the Princes were so sure that Rosette was far prettier than her portrait that
they went without a murmur. They were very kindly treated, and that they might
not feel dull the King came often to see them. As for Rosette's portrait that
was taken up to the palace, and the King did nothing but gaze at it all day and
all night.
As
the King and the Prince had to stay in prison, they sent a letter to the
Princess telling her to pack up all her treasures as quickly as possible, and
come to them, as the King of the Peacocks was waiting to marry her; but they
did not say that they were in prison, for fear of making her uneasy.
When
Rosette received the letter she was so delighted that she ran about telling
everyone that the King of the Peacocks was found, and she was going to marry
him.
Guns
were fired, and fireworks let off. Everyone had as many cakes and sweetmeats as
he wanted. And for three days everybody who came to see the Princess was
presented with a slice of bread-and-jam, a nightingale's egg, and some
hippocras. After having thus entertained her friends, she distributed her dolls
among them, and left her brother's kingdom to the care of the wisest old men of
the city, telling them to take charge of everything, not to spend any money,
but save it all up until the King should return, and above all, not to forget
to feed her peacock. Then she set out, only taking with her her nurse, and the
nurse's daughter, and the little green dog Frisk.
They
took a boat and put out to sea, carrying with them the bushel of gold pieces,
and enough dresses to last the Princess ten years if she wore two every day,
and they did nothing but laugh and sing. The nurse asked the boatman:
`Can
you take us, can you take us to the kingdom of the peacocks?'
But
he answered:
`Oh
no! oh no!'
Then
she said:
`You
must take us, you must take us.'
And
he answered:
`Very
soon, very soon.'
Then
the nurse said:
`Will
you take us? will you take us?'
And
the boatman answered:
`Yes,
yes.'
Then
she whispered in his ear:
`Do
you want to make your fortune?'
And
he said:
`Certainly
I do.' `I can tell you how to get a bag of gold,' said she.
`I
ask nothing better,' said the boatman.
`Well,'
said the nurse, `to-night, when the Princess is asleep, you must help me to
throw her into the sea, and when she is drowned I will put her beautiful
clothes upon my daughter, and we will take her to the King of the Peacocks, who
will be only too glad to marry her, and as your reward you shall have your boat
full of diamonds.'
The
boatman was very much surprised at this proposal, and said: `But what a pity to
drown such a pretty Princess!'
However,
at last the nurse persuaded him to help her, and when the night came and the
Princess was fast asleep as usual, with Frisk curled up on his own cushion at
the foot of her bed, the wicked nurse fetched the boatman and her daughter, and
between them they picked up the Princess, feather bed, mattress, pillows,
blankets and all, and threw her into the sea, without even waking her. Now,
luckily, the Princess's bed was entirely stuffed with phoenix feathers, which
are very rare, and have the property of always floating upon water, so Rosette
went on swimming about as if she had been in a boat. After a little while she
began to feel very cold, and turned round so often that she woke Frisk, who
started up, and, having a very good nose, smelt the soles and herrings so close
to him that he began to bark. He barked so long and so loud that he woke all
the other fish, who came swimming up round the Princess's bed, and poking at it
with their great heads. As for her, she said to herself:
`How
our boat does rock upon the water! I am really glad that I am not often as
uncomfortable as I have been to-night.'
The
wicked nurse and the boatman, who were by this time quite a long way off, heard
Frisk barking, and said to each other:
`That
horrid little animal and his mistress are drinking our health in sea-water now.
Let us make haste to land, for we must be quite near the city of the King of
the Peacocks.'
The
King had sent a hundred carriages to meet them, drawn by every kind of strange
animal. There were lions, bears, wolves, stags, horses, buffaloes, eagles, and
peacocks. The carriage intended for the Princess Rosette had six blue monkeys,
which could turn summer-saults, and dance on a tight-rope, and do many other
charming tricks. Their, harness was all of crimson velvet with gold buckles,
and behind the carriage walked sixty beautiful ladies chosen by the King to
wait upon Rosette and amuse her.
The
nurse had taken all the pains imaginable to deck out her daughter. She put on
her Rosette's prettiest frock, and covered her with diamonds from head to foot.
But she was so ugly that nothing could make her look nice, and what was worse,
she was sulky and ill-tempered, and did nothing but grumble all the time.
When
she stepped from the boat and the escort sent by the King of the Peacocks
caught sight of her, they were so surprised that they could not say a single
word.
`Now
then, look alive,' cried the false Princess. `If you don't bring me something
to eat I will have all your heads cut off!'
Then
they whispered one to another:
`Here's
a pretty state of things! she is as wicked as she is ugly. What a bride for our
poor King! She certainly was not worth bringing from the other end of the
world!'
But
she went on ordering them all about, and for no fault at all would give slaps
and pinches to everyone she could reach.
As
the procession was so long it advanced but slowly, and the nurse's daughter sat
up in her carriage trying to look like a Queen. But the peacocks, who were
sitting upon every tree waiting to salute her, and who had made up their minds
to cry, `Long live our beautiful Queen!' when they caught sight of the false
bride could not help crying instead:
`Oh!
how ugly she is!'
Which
offended her so much that she said to the guards:
`Make
haste and kill all these insolent peacocks who have dared to insult me.'
But
the peacocks only flew away, laughing at her.
The
rogue of a boatman, who noticed all this, said softly to the nurse:
`This
is a bad business for us, gossip; your daughter ought to have been prettier.'
But
she answered:
`Be
quiet, stupid, or you will spoil everything.'
Now
they told the King that the Princess was approaching.
`Well,'
said he, `did her brothers tell me truly? Is she prettier than her portrait?'
`Sire,'
they answered, `if she were as pretty that would do very well.'
`That's
true,' said the King; `I for one shall be quite satisfied if she is. Let us go
and meet her.' For they knew by the uproar that she had arrived, but they could
not tell what all the shouting was about. The King thought he could hear the
words:
`How
ugly she is! How ugly she is!' and he fancied they must refer to some dwarf the
Princess was bringing with her. It never occurred to him that they could apply
to the bride herself.
The
Princess Rosette's portrait was carried at the head of the procession, and
after it walked the King surrounded by his courtiers. He was all impatience to
see the lovely Princess, but when he caught sight of the nurse's daughter he
was furiously angry, and would not advance another step. For she was really
ugly enough to have frightened anybody.
`What!'
he cried, `have the two rascals who are my prisoners dared to play me such a
trick as this? Do they propose that I shall marry this hideous creature? Let
her be shut up in my great tower, with her nurse and those who brought her
here; and as for them, I will have their heads cut off.'
Meanwhile
the King and the Prince, who knew that their sister must have arrived, had made
themselves smart, and sat expecting every minute to be summoned to greet her.
So when the gaoler came with soldiers, and carried them down into a black
dungeon which swarmed with toads and bats, and where they were up to their
necks in water, nobody could have been more surprised and dismayed than they
were.
`This
is a dismal kind of wedding,' they said; `what can have happened that we should
be treated like this? They must mean to kill us.'
And
this idea annoyed them very much. Three days passed before they heard any news,
and then the King of the Peacocks came and berated them through a hole in the
wall.
`You
have called yourselves King and Prince,' he cried, `to try and make me marry
your sister, but you are nothing but beggars, not worth the water you drink. I
mean to make short work with you, and the sword is being sharpened that will
cut off your heads!'
`King
of the Peacocks,' answered the King angrily, `you had better take care what you
are about. I am as good a King as yourself, and have a splendid kingdom and
robes and crowns, and plenty of good red gold to do what I like with. You are pleased
to jest about having our heads cut off; perhaps you think we have stolen
something from you?'
At
first the King of the Peacocks was taken aback by this bold speech, and had
half a mind to send them all away together; but his Prime Minister declared
that it would never do to let such a trick as that pass unpunished, everybody
would laugh at him; so the accusation was drawn up against them, that they were
impostors, and that they had promised the King a beautiful Princess in marriage
who, when she arrived, proved to be an ugly peasant girl.
This
accusation was read to the prisoners, who cried out that they had spoken the
truth, that their sister was indeed a Princess more beautiful than the day, and
that there was some mystery about all this which they could not fathom.
Therefore they demanded seven days in which to prove their innocence, The King
of the Peacocks was so angry that he would hardly even grant them this favour,
but at last he was persuaded to do so.
While
all this was going on at court, let us see what had been happening to the real
Princess. When the day broke she and Frisk were equally astonished at finding
themselves alone upon the sea, with no boat and no one to help them. The
Princess cried and cried, until even the fishes were sorry for her.
`Alas!'
she said, `the King of the Peacocks must have ordered me to be thrown into the
sea because he had changed his mind and did not want to marry me. But how
strange of him, when I should have loved him so much, and we should have been
so happy together!'
And
then she cried harder than ever, for she could not help still loving him. So
for two days they floated up and down the sea, wet and shivering with the cold,
and so hungry that when the Princess saw some oysters she caught them, and she
and Frisk both ate some, though they didn't like them at all. When night came
the Princess was so frightened that she said to Frisk:
`Oh!
Do please keep on barking for fear the soles should come and eat us up!'
Now
it happened that they had floated close in to the shore, where a poor old man
lived all alone in a little cottage. When he heard Frisk's barking he thought
to himself:
`There
must have been a shipwreck!' (for no dogs ever passed that way by any chance),
and he went out to see if he could be of any use. He soon saw the Princess and
Frisk floating up and down, and Rosette, stretching out her hands to him,
cried:
`Oh!
Good old man, do save me, or I shall die of cold and hunger!'
When
he heard her cry out so piteously he was very sorry for her, and ran back into
his house to fetch a long boat-hook. Then he waded into the water up to his
chin, and after being nearly drowned once or twice he at last succeeded in
getting hold of the Princess's bed and dragging it on shore.
Rosette
and Frisk were joyful enough to find themselves once more on dry land, and the
Princess thanked the old man heartily; then, wrapping herself up in her
blankets, she daintily picked her way up to the cottage on her little bare
feet. There the old man lighted a fire of straw, and then drew from an old box
his wife's dress and shoes, which the Princess put on, and thus roughly clad
looked as charming as possible, and Frisk danced his very best to amuse her.
The
old man saw that Rosette must be some great lady, for her bed coverings were
all of satin and gold. He begged that she would tell him all her history, as
she might safely trust him. The Princess told him everything, weeping bitterly
again at the thought that it was by the King's orders that she had been thrown
overboard.
`And
now, my daughter, what is to be done?' said the old man. `You are a great
Princess, accustomed to fare daintily, and I have nothing to offer you but
black bread and radishes, which will not suit you at all. Shall I go and tell
the King of the Peacocks that you are here? If he sees you he will certainly
wish to marry you.'
`Oh
no!' cried Rosette, `he must be wicked, since he tried to drown me. Don't let
us tell him, but if you have a little basket give it to me.'
The
old man gave her a basket, and tying it round Frisk's neck she said to him: `Go
and find out the best cooking-pot in the town and bring the contents to me.'
Away
went Frisk, and as there was no better dinner cooking in all the town than the
King's, he adroitly took the cover off the pot and brought all it contained to
the Princess, who said:
`Now
go back to the pantry, and bring the best of everything you find there.'
So
Frisk went back and filled his basket with white bread, and red wine, and every
kind of sweetmeat, until it was almost too heavy for him to carry.
When
the King of the Peacocks wanted his dinner there was nothing in the pot and
nothing in the pantry. All the courtiers looked at one another in dismay, and
the King was terribly cross.
`Oh
well! `he said, `if there is no dinner I cannot dine, but take care that plenty
of things are roasted for supper.'
When
evening came the Princess said to Frisk:
`Go
into the town and find out the best kitchen, and bring me all the nicest morsels
that are being roasted upon the spit.'
Frisk
did as he was told, and as he knew of no better kitchen than the King's, he
went in softly, and when the cook's back was turned took everything that was
upon the spit, As it happened it was all done to a turn, and looked so good
that it made him hungry only to see it. He carried his basket to the Princess,
who at once sent him back to the pantry to bring all the tarts and sugar plums
that had been prepared for the King's supper.
The
King, as he had had no dinner, was very hungry and wanted his supper early, but
when he asked for it, lo and behold it was all gone, and he had to go to bed
half-starved and in a terrible temper. The next day the same thing happened,
and the next, so that for three days the King got nothing at all to eat,
because just when the dinner or the supper was ready to be served it
mysteriously disappeared. At last the Prime Minister began to be afraid that
the King would be starved to death, so he resolved to hide himself in some dark
corner of the kitchen, and never take his eyes off the cooking-pot. His
surprise was great when he presently saw a little green dog with one ear slip
softly into the kitchen, uncover the pot, transfer all its contents to his
basket, and run off. The Prime Minister followed hastily, and tracked him all
through the town to the cottage of the good old man; then he ran back to the
King and told him that he had found out where all his dinners and suppers went.
The King, who was very much astonished, said he should like to go and see for
himself. So he set out, accompanied by the Prime Minister and a guard of
archers, and arrived just in time to find the old man and the Princess
finishing his dinner.
The
King ordered that they should be seized and bound with ropes, and Frisk also.
When
they were brought back to the palace some one told the King, who said:
`To-day
is the last day of the respite granted to those impostors; they shall have
their heads cut off at the same time as these stealers of my dinner.' Then the
old man went down on his knees before the King and begged for time to tell him
everything. While he spoke the King for the first time looked attentively at
the Princess, because he was sorry to see how she cried, and when he heard the
old man saying that her name was Rosette, and that she had been treacherously
thrown into the sea, he turned head over heels three times without stopping, in
spite of being quite weak from hunger, and ran to embrace her, and untied the
ropes which bound her with his own hands, declaring that he loved her with all
his heart.
Messengers
were sent to bring the Princes out of prison, and they came very sadly,
believing that they were to be executed at once: the nurse and her daughter and
the boatman were brought also. As soon as they came in Rosette ran to embrace
her brothers, while the traitors threw themselves down before her and begged
for mercy. The King and the Princess were so happy that they freely forgave
them, and as for the good old man he was splendidly rewarded, and spent the
rest of his days in the palace. The King of the Peacocks made ample amends to
the King and Prince for the way in which they had been treated, and did
everything in his power to show how sorry he was.
The
nurse restored to Rosette all her dresses and jewels, and the bushel of gold
pieces; the wedding was held at once, and they all lived happily ever
after--even to Frisk, who enjoyed the greatest luxury, and never had anything
worse than the wing of a partridge for dinner all the rest of his life.[7]
[7]
Madame d'Aulnoy.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f09]
THE
ENCHANTED PIG
ONCE
upon a time there lived a King who had three daughters. Now it happened that he
had to go out to battle, so he called his daughters and said to them:
`My
dear children, I am obliged to go to the wars. The enemy is approaching us with
a large army. It is a great grief to me to leave you all. During my absence
take care of yourselves and be good girls; behave well and look after
everything in the house. You may walk in the garden, and you may go into all
the rooms in the palace, except the room at the back in the right-hand corner;
into that you must not enter, for harm would befall you.'
`You
may keep your mind easy, father,' they replied. `We have never been disobedient
to you. Go in peace, and may heaven give you a glorious victory!'
When
everything was ready for his departure, the King gave them the keys of all the
rooms and reminded them once more of what he had said. His daughters kissed his
hands with tears in their eyes, and wished him prosperity, and he gave the
eldest the keys.
Now
when the girls found themselves alone they felt so sad and dull that they did
not know what to do. So, to pass the time, they decided to work for part of the
day, to read for part of the day, and to enjoy themselves in the garden for
part of the day. As long as they did this all went well with them. But this
happy state of things did not last long. Every day they grew more and more
curious, and you will see what the end of that was.
`Sisters,'
said the eldest Princess, `all day long we sew, spin, and read. We have been
several days quite alone, and there is no corner of the garden that we have not
explored. We have been in all the rooms of our father's palace, and have
admired the rich and beautiful furniture: why should not we go into the room
that our father forbad us to enter?'
Sister,'
said the youngest, `I cannot think how you can tempt us to break our father's command.
When he told us not to go into that room he must have known what he was saying,
and have had a good reason for saying it.'
`Surely
the sky won't fall about our heads if we DO go in,' said the second Princess.
`Dragons and such like monsters that would devour us will not be hidden in the
room. And how will our father ever find out that we have gone in?'
While
they were speaking thus, encouraging each other, they had reached the room; the
eldest fitted the key into the lock, and snap! the door stood open.
The
three girls entered, and what do you think they saw?
The
room was quite empty, and without any ornament, but in the middle stood a large
table, with a gorgeous cloth, and on it lay a big open book.
Now
the Princesses were curious to know what was written in the book, especially
the eldest, and this is what she read:
`The
eldest daughter of this King will marry a prince from the East.'
Then
the second girl stepped forward, and turning over the page she read:
`The
second daughter of this King will marry a prince from the West.'
The
girls were delighted, and laughed and teased each other.
But
the youngest Princess did not want to go near the table or to open the book.
Her elder sisters however left her no peace, and will she, nill she, they
dragged her up to the table, and in fear and trembling she turned over the page
and read:
`The
youngest daughter of this King will be married to a pig from the North.'
Now
if a thunderbolt had fallen upon her from heaven it would not have frightened
her more.
She
almost died of misery, and if her sisters had not held her up, she would have
sunk to the ground and cut her head open.
When
she came out of the fainting fit into which she had fallen in her terror, her
sisters tried to comfort her, saying:
`How
can you believe such nonsense? When did it ever happen that a king's daughter
married a pig?'
`What
a baby you are!' said the other sister; `has not our father enough soldiers to
protect you, even if the disgusting creature did come to woo you?'
The
youngest Princess would fain have let herself be convinced by her sisters'
words, and have believed what they said, but her heart was heavy. Her thoughts
kept turning to the book, in which stood written that great happiness waited
her sisters, but that a fate was in store for her such as had never before been
known in the world.
Besides,
the thought weighed on her heart that she had been guilty of disobeying her
father. She began to get quite ill, and in a few days she was so changed that
it was difficult to recognise her; formerly she had been rosy and merry, now
she was pale and nothing gave her any pleasure. She gave up playing with her
sisters in the garden, ceased to gather flowers to put in her hair, and never
sang when they sat together at their spinning and sewing.
In
the meantime the King won a great victory, and having completely defeated and
driven off the enemy, he hurried home to his daughters, to whom his thoughts
had constantly turned. Everyone went out to meet him with cymbals and fifes and
drums, and there was great rejoicing over his victorious return. The King's
first act on reaching home was to thank Heaven for the victory he had gained
over the enemies who had risen against him. He then entered his palace, and the
three Princesses stepped forward to meet him. His joy was great when he saw
that they were all well, for the youngest did her best not to appear sad.
In
spite of this, however, it was not long before the King noticed that his third
daughter was getting very thin and sad-looking. And all of a sudden he felt as
if a hot iron were entering his soul, for it flashed through his mind that she
had disobeyed his word. He felt sure he was right; but to be quite certain he
called his daughters to him, questioned them, and ordered them to speak the
truth. They confessed everything, but took good care not to say which had led
the other two into temptation.
The
King was so distressed when he heard it that he was almost overcome by grief.
But he took heart and tried to comfort his daughters, who looked frightened to
death. He saw that what had happened had happened, and that a thousand words
would not alter matters by a hair's-breadth.
Well,
these events had almost been forgotten when one fine day a prince from the East
appeared at the Court and asked the King for the hand of his eldest daughter.
The King gladly gave his consent. A great wedding banquet was prepared, and
after three days of feasting the happy pair were accompanied to the frontier
with much ceremony and rejoicing.
After
some time the same thing befell the second daughter, who was wooed and won by a
prince from the West.
Now
when the young Princess saw that everything fell out exactly as had been
written in the book, she grew very sad. She refused to eat, and would not put
on her fine clothes nor go out walking, and declared that she would rather die
than become a laughing-stock to the world. But the King would not allow her to
do anything so wrong, and he comforted her in all possible ways.
So
the time passed, till lo and behold! one fine day an enormous pig from the
North walked into the palace, and going straight up to the King said, `Hail! oh
King. May your life be as prosperous and bright as sunrise on a clear day!'
`I
am glad to see you well, friend,' answered the King, `but what wind has brought
you hither?'
`I
come a-wooing,' replied the Pig.
Now
the King was astonished to hear so fine a speech from a Pig, and at once it
occurred to him that something strange was the matter. He would gladly have
turned the Pig's thoughts in another direction, as he did not wish to give him
the Princess for a wife; but when he heard that the Court and the whole street
were full of all the pigs in the world he saw that there was no escape, and
that he must give his consent. The Pig was not satisfied with mere promises,
but insisted that the wedding should take place within a week, and would not go
away till the King had sworn a royal oath upon it.
The
King then sent for his daughter, and advised her to submit to fate, as there
was nothing else to be done. And he added:
`My
child, the words and whole behaviour of this Pig are quite unlike those of
other pigs. I do not myself believe that he always was a pig. Depend upon it
some magic or witchcraft has been at work. Obey him, and do everything that he
wishes, and I feel sure that Heaven will shortly send you release.'
`If
you wish me to do this, dear father, I will do it,' replied the girl.
In
the meantime the wedding-day drew near. After the marriage, the Pig and his
bride set out for his home in one of the royal carriages. On the way they
passed a great bog, and the Pig ordered the carriage to stop, and got out and
rolled about in the mire till he was covered with mud from head to foot; then
he got back into the carriage and told his wife to kiss him. What was the poor
girl to do? She bethought herself of her father's words, and, pulling out her
pocket handkerchief, she gently wiped the Pig's snout and kissed it.
By
the time they reached the Pig's dwelling, which stood in a thick wood, it was
quite dark. They sat down quietly for a little, as they were tired after their
drive; then they had supper together, and lay down to rest. During the night
the Princess noticed that the Pig had changed into a man. She was not a little
surprised, but remembering her father's words, she took courage, determined to
wait and see what would happen.
And
now she noticed that every night the Pig became a man, and every morning he was
changed into a Pig before she awoke. This happened several nights running, and
the Princess could not understand it at all. Clearly her husband must be
bewitched. In time she grew quite fond of him, he was so kind and gentle.
One
fine day as she was sitting alone she saw an old witch go past. She felt quite
excited, as it was so long since she had seen a human being, and she called out
to the old woman to come and talk to her. Among other things the witch told her
that she understood all magic arts, and that she could foretell the future, and
knew the healing powers of herbs and plants.
`I
shall be grateful to you all my life, old dame,' said the Princess, `if you
will tell me what is the matter with my husband. Why is he a Pig by day and a
human being by night?'
`I
was just going to tell you that one thing, my dear, to show you what a good
fortune-teller I am. If you like, I will give you a herb to break the spell.'
`If
you will only give it to me,' said the Princess, `I will give you anything you
choose to ask for, for I cannot bear to see him in this state.'
`Here,
then, my dear child,' said the witch, `take this thread, but do not let him
know about it, for if he did it would lose its healing power. At night, when he
is asleep, you must get up very quietly, and fasten the thread round his left
foot as firmly as possible; and you will see in the morning he will not have
changed back into a Pig, but will still be a man. I do not want any reward. I
shall be sufficiently repaid by knowing that you are happy. It almost breaks my
heart to think of all you have suffered, and I only wish I had known it sooner,
as I should have come to your rescue at once.'
When
the old witch had gone away the Princess hid the thread very carefully, and at
night she got up quietly, and with a beating heart she bound the thread round
her husband's foot. Just as she was pulling the knot tight there was a crack,
and the thread broke, for it was rotten.
Her
husband awoke with a start, and said to her, `Unhappy woman, what have you
done? Three days more and this unholy spell would have fallen from me, and now,
who knows how long I may have to go about in this disgusting shape? I must
leave you at once, and we shall not meet again until you have worn out three
pairs of iron shoes and blunted a steel staff in your search for me.' So saying
he disappeared.
Now,
when the Princess was left alone she began to weep and moan in a way that was
pitiful to hear; but when she saw that her tears and groans did her no good,
she got up, determined to go wherever fate should lead her.
On
reaching a town, the first thing she did was to order three pairs of iron
sandals and a steel staff, and having made these preparations for her journey,
she set out in search of her husband. On and on she wandered over nine seas and
across nine continents; through forests with trees whose stems were as thick as
beer-barrels; stumbling and knocking herself against the fallen branches, then
picking herself up and going on; the boughs of the trees hit her face, and the
shrubs tore her hands, but on she went, and never looked back. At last, wearied
with her long journey and worn out and overcome with sorrow, but still with
hope at her heart, she reached a house.
Now
who do you think lived there? The Moon.
The
Princess knocked at the door, and begged to be let in that she might rest a
little. The mother of the Moon, when she saw her sad plight, felt a great pity
for her, and took her in and nursed and tended her. And while she was here the
Princess had a little baby.
One
day the mother of the Moon asked her:
`How
was it possible for you, a mortal, to get hither to the house of the Moon?'
Then
the poor Princess told her all that happened to her, and added `I shall always
be thankful to Heaven for leading me hither, and grateful to you that you took
pity on me and on my baby, and did not leave us to die. Now I beg one last
favour of you; can your daughter, the Moon, tell me where my husband is?'
`She
cannot tell you that, my child,' replied the goddess, `but, if you will travel
towards the East until you reach the dwelling of the Sun, he may be able to
tell you something.'
Then
she gave the Princess a roast chicken to eat, and warned her to be very careful
not to lose any of the bones, because they might be of great use to her.
When
the Princess had thanked her once more for her hospitality and for her good
advice, and had thrown away one pair of shoes that were worn out, and had put
on a second pair, she tied up the chicken bones in a bundle, and taking her
baby in her arms and her staff in her hand, she set out once more on her
wanderings.
On
and on and on she went across bare sandy deserts, where the roads were so heavy
that for every two steps that she took forwards she fell back one; but she
struggled on till she had passed these dreary plains; next she crossed high
rocky mountains, jumping from crag to crag and from peak to peak. Sometimes she
would rest for a little on a mountain, and then start afresh always farther and
farther on. She had to cross swamps and to scale mountain peaks covered with
flints, so that her feet and knees and elbows were all torn and bleeding, and
sometimes she came to a precipice across which she could not jump, and she had
to crawl round on hands and knees, helping herself along with her staff. At
length, wearied to death, she reached the palace in which the Sun lived. She
knocked and begged for admission. The mother of the Sun opened the door, and
was astonished at beholding a mortal from the distant earthly shores, and wept
with pity when she heard of all she had suffered. Then, having promised to ask
her son about the Princess's husband, she hid her in the cellar, so that the
Sun might notice nothing on his return home, for he was always in a bad temper
when he came in at night. The next day the Princess feared that things would
not go well with her, for the Sun had noticed that some one from the other
world had been in the palace. But his mother had soothed him with soft words,
assuring him that this was not so. So the Princess took heart when she saw how
kindly she was treated, and asked:
`But
how in the world is it possible for the Sun to be angry? He is so beautiful and
so good to mortals.'
`This
is how it happens,' replied the Sun's mother. `In the morning when] he stands
at the gates of paradise he is happy, and smiles on the whole world, but during
the day he gets cross, because he sees all the evil deeds of men, and that is
why his heat becomes so scorching; but in the evening he is both sad and angry,
for he stands at the gates of death; that is his usual course. From there he
comes back here.'
She
then told the Princess that she had asked about her hus-band, but that her son
had replied that he knew nothing about him, and that her only hope was to go
and inquire of the Wind. Before the Princess left the mother of the Sun gave
her a roast chicken to eat, and advised her to take great care of the bones,
which she did, wrapping them up in a bundle. She then threw away her second
pair of shoes, which were quite worn out, and with her child on her arm and her
staff in her hand, she set forth on her way to the Wind.
In
these wanderings she met with even greater difficulties than before, for she
came upon one mountain of flints after another, out of which tongues of fire
would flame up; she passed through woods which had never been trodden by human
foot, and had to cross fields of ice and avalanches of snow. The poor woman
nearly died of these hardships, but she kept a brave heart, and at length she
reached an enormous cave in the side of a mountain. This was where the Wind
lived. There was a little door in the railing in front of the cave, and here
the Princess knocked and begged for admission. The mother of the Wind had pity
on her and took her in, that she might rest a little. Here too she was hidden
away, so that the Wind might not notice her.
The
next morning the mother of the Wind told her that her husband was living in a
thick wood, so thick that no axe had been able to cut a way through it; here he
had built himself a sort of house by placing trunks of trees together and
fastening them with withes and here he lived alone, shunning human kind.
After
the mother of the Wind had given the Princess a chicken to eat, and had warned
her to take care of the bones, she advised her to go by the Milky Way, which at
night lies across the sky, and to wander on till she reached her goal.
Having
thanked the old woman with tears in her eyes for her hospitality, and for the
good news she had given her, the Princess set out on her journey and rested
neither night nor day, so great was her longing to see her husband again. On
and on she walked until her last pair of shoes fell in pieces. So she threw
them away and went on with bare feet, not heeding the bogs nor the thorns that
wounded her, nor the stones that bruised her. At last she reached a beautiful
green meadow on the edge of a wood. Her heart was cheered by the sight of the
flowers and the soft cool grass, and she sat down and rested for a little. But
hearing the birds chirping to their mates among the trees made her think with
longing of her husband, and she wept bitterly, and taking her child in her
arms, and her bundle of chicken bones on her shoulder, she entered the wood.
For
three days and three nights she struggled through it, but could find nothing.
She was quite worn out with weariness and hunger, and even her staff was no
further help to her, for in her many wanderings it had become quite blunted.
She almost gave up in despair, but made one last great effort, and suddenly in
a thicket she came upon the sort of house that the mother of the Wind had
described. It had no windows, and the door was up in the roof. Round the house
she went, in search of steps, but could find none. What was she to do? How was
she to get in? She thought and thought, and tried in vain to climb up to the
door. Then suddenly she be-thought her of the chicken bones that she had
dragged all that weary way, and she said to herself: `They would not all have
told me to take such good care of these bones if they had not had some good
reason for doing so. Perhaps now, in my hour of need, they may be of use to
me.'
So
she took the bones out of her bundle, and having thought for a moment, she
placed the two ends together. To her surprise they stuck tight; then she added
the other bones, till she had two long poles the height of the house; these she
placed against the wall, at a distance of a yard from one another. Across them
she placed the other bones, piece by piece, like the steps of a ladder. As soon
as one step was finished she stood upon it and made the next one, and then the
next, till she was close to the door. But just as she got near the top she
noticed that there were no bones left for the last rung of the ladder. What was
she to do? Without that last step the whole ladder was useless. She must have
lost one of the bones. Then suddenly an idea came to her. Taking a knife she
chopped off her little finger, and placing it on the last step, it stuck as the
bones had done. The ladder was complete, and with her child on her arm she
entered the door of the house. Here she found everything in perfect order.
Having taken some food, she laid the child down to sleep in a trough that was
on the floor, and sat down herself to rest.
When
her husband, the Pig, came back to his house, he was startled by what he saw.
At first he could not believe his eyes, and stared at the ladder of bones, and
at the little finger on the top of it. He felt that some fresh magic must be at
work, and in his terror he almost turned away from the house; but then a better
idea came to him, and he changed himself into a dove, so that no witchcraft
could have power over him, and flew into the room without touching the ladder.
Here he found a woman rocking a child. At the sight of her, looking so changed
by all that she had suffered for his sake, his heart was moved by such love and
longing and by so great a pity that he suddenly became a man.
The
Princess stood up when she saw him. and her heart beat with fear, for she did
not know him. But when he had told her who he was, in her great joy she forgot
all her sufferings, and they seemed as nothing to her. He was a very handsome
man, as straight as a fir tree. They sat down together and she told him all her
adventures, and he wept with pity at the tale. And then he told her his own
history.
`I
am a King's son. Once when my father was fighting against some dragons, who
were the scourge of our country, I slew the youngest dragon. His mother, who
was a witch, cast a spell over me and changed me into a Pig. It was she who in
the disguise of an old woman gave you the thread to bind round my foot. So that
instead of the three days that had to run before the spell was broken, I was
forced to remain a Pig for three more years. Now that we have suffered for each
other, and have found each other again, let us forget the past.'
And
in their joy they kissed one another.
Next
morning they set out early to return to his father's kingdom. Great was the
rejoicing of all the people when they saw him and his wife; his father and his
mother embraced them both, and there was feasting in the palace for three days
and three nights.
Then
they set out to see her father. The old King nearly went out of his mind with
joy at beholding his daughter again. When she had told him all her adventures,
he said to her:
`Did
not I tell you that I was quite sure that that creature who wooed and won you
as his wife had not been born a Pig? You see, my child, how wise you were in
doing what I told you.'
And
as the King was old and had no heirs, he put them on the throne in his place.
And they ruled as only kings rule who have suffered many things. And if they
are not dead they are still living and ruling happily.[8]
[8]
Rumanische Marchen ubersetzt von Nite Kremnitz.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f10]
THE
NORKA
ONCE
upon a time there lived a King and Queen. They had three sons, two of them with
their wits about them, but the third a simpleton. Now the King had a deer park
in which were quantities of wild animals of different kinds. Into that park
there used to come a huge beast--Norka was its name--and do fearful mischief,
devouring some of the animals every night. The King did all he could, but he
was unable to destroy it. So at last he called his sons together and said,
`Whoever will destroy the Norka, to him will I give the half of my kingdom.'
Well,
the eldest son undertook the task. As soon as it was night, he took his weapons
and set out. But before he reached the park, he went into a traktir (or
tavern), and there he spent the whole night in revelry. When he came to his
senses it was too late; the day had already dawned. He felt himself disgraced
in the eyes of his father, but there was no help for it. The next day the
second son went, and did just the same. Their father scolded them both soundly,
and there was an end of it.
Well,
on the third day the youngest son undertook the task. They all laughed him to
scorn, because he was so stupid, feeling sure he wouldn't do anything. But he
took his arms, and went straight into the park, and sat down on the grass in
such a position that the moment he went asleep his weapons would prick him, and
he would awake.
Presently
the midnight hour sounded. The earth began to shake, and the Norka came rushing
up, and burst right through the fence into the park, so huge was it. The Prince
pulled himself together, leapt to his feet, crossed himself, and went straight
at the beast. It fled back, and the Prince ran after it. But he soon saw that
he couldn't catch it on foot, so he hastened to the stable, laid his hands on
the best horse there, and set off in pursuit. Presently he came up with the
beast, and they began a fight. They fought and fought; the Prince gave the
beast three wounds. At last they were both utterly exhausted, so they lay down
to take a short rest. But the moment the Prince closed his eyes, up jumped the
beast and took to flight. The Prince's horse awoke him; up he jumped in a moment,
and set off again in pursuit, caught up the beast, and again began fighting
with it. Again the Prince gave the beast three wounds, and then he and the
beast lay down again to rest. Thereupon away fled the beast as before. The
Prince caught it up, and again gave it three wounds. But all of a sudden, just
as the Prince began chasing it for the fourth time, the beast fled to a great
white stone, tilted it up, and escaped into the other world, crying out to the
Prince: `Then only will you overcome me, when you enter here.'
The
Prince went home, told his father all that had happened, and asked him to have
a leather rope plaited, long enough to reach to the other world. His father
ordered this to be done. When the rope was made, the Prince called for his
brothers, and he and they, having taken servants with them, and everything that
was needed for a whole year, set out for the place where the beast had
disappeared under the stone. When they got there, they built a palace on the
spot, and lived in it for some time. But when everything was ready, the
youngest brother said to the others: `Now, brothers, who is going to lift this
stone?'
Neither
of them could so much as stir it, but as soon as he touched it, away it flew to
a distance, though it was ever so big--big as a hill. And when he had flung the
stone aside, he spoke a second time to his brothers, saying:
`Who
is going into the other world, to overcome the Norka?'
Neither
of them offered to do so. Then he laughed at them for being such cowards, and
said:
`Well,
brothers, farewell! Lower me into the other world, and don't go away from here,
but as soon as the cord is jerked, pull it up.'
His
brothers lowered him accordingly, and when he had reached the other world,
underneath the earth, he went on his way. He walked and walked. Presently he
espied a horse with rich trappings, and it said to him:
`Hail,
Prince Ivan! Long have I awaited thee!'
He
mounted the horse and rode on--rode and rode, until he saw standing before him
a palace made of copper. He entered the courtyard, tied up his horse, and went
indoors. In one of the rooms a dinner was laid out. He sat down and dined, and
then went into a bedroom. There he found a bed, on which he lay down to rest.
Presently there came in a lady, more beautiful than can be imagined anywhere
but in a fairy tale, who said:
`Thou
who art in my house, name thyself! If thou art an old man, thou shalt be my
father; if a middle-aged man, my brother; but if a young man, thou shalt be my
husband dear. And if thou art a woman, and an old one, thou shalt be my
grandmother; if middle-aged, my mother; and if a girl, thou shalt be my own
sister.'
Thereupon
he came forth. And when she saw him she was delighted with him, and said:
`Wherefore,
O Prince Ivan--my husband dear shalt thou be!--wherefore hast thou come
hither?'
Then
he told her all that had happened, and she said:
`That
beast which thou wishest to overcome is my brother. He is staying just now with
my second sister, who lives not far from here in a silver palace. I bound up
three of the wounds which thou didst give him.'
Well,
after this they drank, and enjoyed themselves, and held sweet converse
together, and then the Prince took leave of her, and went on to the second
sister, the one who lived in the silver palace, and with her also he stayed
awhile. She told him that her brother Norka was then at her youngest sister's.
So he went on to the youngest sister, who lived in a golden palace. She told
him that her brother was at that time asleep on the blue sea, and she gave him
a sword of steel and a draught of the Water of Strength, and she told him to
cut off her brother's head at a single stroke. And when he had heard these
things, he went his way.
And
when the Prince came to the blue sea, he looked--there slept the Norka on a
stone in the middle of the sea; and when it snored, the water was agitated for
seven miles around. The Prince crossed himself, went up to it, and smote it on
the head with his sword. The head jumped off, saying the while, `Well, I'm done
for now!' and rolled far away into the sea.
After
killing the beast, the Prince went back again, picking up all the three sisters
by the way, with the intention of taking them out into the upper world: for
they all loved him and would not be separated from him. Each of them turned her
palace into an egg --for they were all enchantresses--and they taught him how
to turn the eggs into palaces, and back again, and they handed over the eggs to
him. And then they all went to the place from which they had to be hoisted into
the upper world. And when they came to where the rope was, the Prince took hold
of it and made the maidens fast to it. Then he jerked away at the rope and his
brothers began to haul it up. And when they had hauled it up, and had set eyes
on the wondrous maidens, they went aside and said: `Let's lower the rope, pull
our brother part of the way up, and then cut the rope. Perhaps he'll be killed;
but then if he isn't, he'll never give us these beauties as wives.'
So
when they had agreed on this, they lowered the rope. But their brother was no
fool; he guessed what they were at, so he fastened the rope to a stone, and
then gave it a pull. His brothers hoisted the stone to a great height, and then
cut the rope. Down fell the stone and broke in pieces; the Prince poured forth
tears and went away. Well, he walked and walked. Presently a storm arose; the
lightning flashed, the thunder roared, the rain fell in torrents. He went up to
a tree in order to take shelter under it, and on that tree he saw some young
birds which were being thoroughly drenched. So he took off his coat and covered
them over with it, and he himself sat down under the tree. Presently there came
flying a bird--such a big one that the light was blotted out by it. It had been
dark there before, but now it became darker still. Now this was the mother of
those small birds which the Prince had covered up. And when the bird had come
flying up, she perceived that her little ones were covered over, and she said,
`Who has wrapped up my nestlings?' and presently, seeing the Prince, she added:
`Didst thou do that? Thanks! In return, ask of me anything thou desirest. I
will do anything for thee.'
`Then
carry me into the other world,' he replied.
`Make
me a large vessel with a partition in the middle,' she said; `catch all sorts
of game, and put them into one half of it, and into the other half pour water;
so that there may be meat and drink for me.'
All
this the Prince did. Then the bird--having taken the vessel on her back, with
the Prince sitting in the middle of it--began to fly. And after flying some
distance she brought him to his journey's end, took leave of him, and flew away
back. But he went to the house of a certain tailor, and engaged himself as his
servant. So much the worse for wear was he, so thoroughly had he altered in
appearance, that nobody would have suspected him of being a Prince.
Having
entered into the service of this master, the Prince began to ask what was going
on in that country. And his master replied: `Our two Princes--for the third one
has disappeared--have brought away brides from the other world, and want to
marry them, but those brides refuse. For they insist on having all their
wedding-clothes made for them first, exactly like those which they used to have
in the other world, and that without being measured for them. The King has
called all the workmen together, but not one of them will undertake to do it.'
The
Prince, having heard all this, said, `Go to the King, master, and tell him that
you will provide everything that's in your line.'
`However
can I undertake to make clothes of that sort? I work for quite common folks,'
says his master.
`Go
along, master! I will answer for everything,' says the Prince.
So
the tailor went. The King was delighted that at least one good workman had been
found, and gave him as much money as ever he wanted. When his tailor had
settled everything, he went home. And the Prince said to him:
`Now
then, pray to God, and lie down to sleep; to-morrow all will be ready.' And the
tailor followed his lad's advice, and went to bed.
Midnight
sounded. The Prince arose, went out of the city into the fields, took out of
his pocket the eggs which the maidens had given him, and, as they had taught
him, turned them into three palaces. Into each of these he entered, took the
maidens' robes, went out again, turned the palaces back into eggs, and went
home. And when he got there he hung up the robes on the wall, and lay down to
sleep.
Early
in the morning his master awoke, and behold! there hung such robes as he had
never seen before, all shining with gold and silver and precious stones. He was
delighted, and he seized them and carried them off to the King. When the
Princesses saw that the clothes were those which had been theirs in the other
world, they guessed that Prince Ivan was in this world, so they exchanged
glances with each other, but they held their peace. And the master, having
handed over the clothes, went home, but he no longer found his dear journeyman
there. For the Prince had gone to a shoemaker's, and him too he sent to work
for the King; and in the same way he went the round of all the artificers, and
they all proffered him thanks, inasmuch as through him they were enriched by
the King.
By
the time the princely workman had gone the round of all the artificers, the
Princesses had received what they had asked for; all their clothes were just
like what they had been in the other world. Then they wept bitterly because the
Prince had not come, and it was impossible for them to hold out any longer; it
was necessary that they should be married. But when they were ready for the
wedding, the youngest bride said to the King:
`Allow
me, my father, to go and give alms to the beggars.'
He
gave her leave, and she went and began bestowing alms upon them, and examining
them closely. And when she had come to one of them, and was going to give him
some money, she caught sight of the ring which she had given to the Prince in
the other world, and her sisters' rings too--for it really was he. So she
seized him by the hand, and brought him into the hall, and said to the King:
`Here
is he who brought us out of the other world. His brothers forbade us to say
that he was alive, threatening to slay us if we did.'
Then
the King was wroth with those sons, and punished them as he thought best. And
afterwards three weddings were celebrated.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f11]
THE
WONDERFUL BIRCH
ONCE
upon a time there were a man and a woman, who had an only daughter. Now it
happened that one of their sheep went astray, and they set out to look for it,
and searched and searched, each in n different part of the wood. Then the good
wife met a witch, who said to her:
`If
you spit, you miserable creature, if you spit into the sheath of my knife, or
if you run between my legs, I shall change you into a black sheep.'
The
woman neither spat, nor did she run between her legs, but yet the witch changed
her into a sheep. Then she made herself look exactly like the woman, and called
out to the good man:
`Ho,
old man, halloa! I have found the sheep already!'
The
man thought the witch was really his wife, and he did not know that his wife
was the sheep; so he went home with her, glad at heart because his sheep was
found. When they were safe at home the witch said to the man:
`Look
here, old man, we must really kill that sheep lest it run away to the wood
again.'
The
man, who was a peaceable quiet sort of fellow, made no objections, but simply
said:
`Good,
let us do so.'
The
daughter, however, had overheard their talk, and she ran to the flock and
lamented aloud:
`Oh,
dear little mother, they are going to slaughter you!'
`Well,
then, if they do slaughter me,' was the black sheep's answer, `eat you neither
the meat nor the broth that is made of me, but gather all my bones, and bury
them by the edge of the field.'
Shortly
after this they took the black sheep from the flock and slaughtered it. The
witch made pease-soup of it, and set it before the daughter. But the girl
remembered her mother's warning. She did not touch the soup, but she carried
the bones to the edge of the field and buried them there; and there sprang up
on the spot a birch tree--a very lovely birch tree.
Some
time had passed away--who can tell how long they might have been living
there?--when the witch, to whom a child had been born in the meantime, began to
take an ill-will to the man's daughter, and to torment her in all sorts of
ways.
Now
it happened that a great festival was to be held at the palace, and the King
had commanded that all the people should be invited, and that this proclamation
should be made:
`Come,
people all! Poor and wretched, one and all! Blind and crippled though ye be,
Mount your steeds or come by sea.'
And
so they drove into the King's feast all the outcasts, and the maimed, and the
halt, and the blind. In the good man's house, too, preparations were made to go
to the palace. The witch said to the man:
`Go
you on in front, old man, with our youngest; I will give the elder girl work to
keep her from being dull in our absence.'
So
the man took the child and set out. But the witch kindled a fire on the hearth,
threw a potful of barleycorns among the cinders, and said to the girl:
`If
you have not picked the barley out of the ashes, and put it all back in the pot
before nightfall, I shall eat you up!'
Then
she hastened after the others, and the poor girl stayed at home and wept. She
tried to be sure to pick up the grains of barley, but she soon saw how useless
her labour was; and so she went in her sore trouble to the birch tree on her
mother's grave, and cried and cried, because her mother lay dead beneath the
sod and could help her no longer. In the midst of her grief she suddenly heard
her mother's voice speak from the grave, and say to her:
`Why
do you weep, little daughter?'
`The
witch has scattered barleycorns on the hearth, and bid me pick them out of the
ashes,' said the girl; `that is why I weep, dear little mother.'
`Do
not weep,' said her mother consolingly. `Break off one of my branches, and
strike the hearth with it crosswise, and all will be put right.' The girl did
so. She struck the hearth with the birchen branch, and lo! the barleycorns flew
into the pot, and the hearth was clean. Then she went back to the birch tree
and laid the branch upon the grave. Then her mother bade her bathe on one side
of the stem, dry herself on another, and dress on the third. When the girl had
done all that, she had grown so lovely that no one on earth could rival her.
Splendid clothing was given to her, and a horse, with hair partly of gold,
partly of silver, and partly of something more precious still. The girl sprang
into the saddle, and rode as swift as an arrow to the palace. As she turned
into the courtyard of the castle the King's son came out to meet her, tied her
steed to a pillar, and led her in. He never left her side as they passed
through the castle rooms; and all the people gazed at her, and wondered who the
lovely maiden was, and from what castle she came; but no one knew her--no one
knew anything about her. At the banquet the Prince invited her to sit next him
in the place of honour; but the witch's daughter gnawed the bones under the
table. The Prince did not see her, and thinking it was a dog, he gave her such
a push with his foot that her arm was broken. Are you not sorry for the witch's
daughter? It was not her fault that her mother was a witch.
Towards
evening the good man's daughter thought it was time to go home; but as she
went, her ring caught on the latch of the door, for the King's son had had it
smeared with tar. She did not take time to pull it off, but, hastily
unfastening her horse from the pillar, she rode away beyond the castle walls as
swift as an arrow. Arrived at home, she took off her clothes by the birch tree,
left her horse standing there, and hastened to her place behind the stove. In a
short time the man and the woman came home again too, and the witch said to the
girl:
`Ah!
you poor thing, there you are to be sure! You don't know what fine times we
have had at the palace! The King's son carried my daughter about, but the poor
thing fell and broke her arm.'
The
girl knew well how matters really stood, but she pretended to know nothing
about it, and sat dumb behind the stove.
The
next day they were invited again to the King's banquet.
`Hey!
old man,' said the witch, `get on your clothes as quick as you can; we are
bidden to the feast. Take you the child; I will give the other one work, lest
she weary.'
She
kindled the fire, threw a potful of hemp seed among the ashes, and said to the
girl:
`If
you do not get this sorted, and all the seed back into the pot, I shall kill
you!'
The
girl wept bitterly; then she went to the birch tree, washed herself on one side
of it and dried herself on the other; and this time still finer clothes were
given to her, and a very beautiful steed. She broke off a branch of the birch
tree, struck the hearth with it, so that the seeds flew into the pot, and then
hastened to the castle.
Again
the King's son came out to meet her, tied her horse to a pillar, and led her
into the banqueting hall. At the feast the girl sat next him in the place of
honour, as she had done the day before. But the witch's daughter gnawed bones
under the table, and the Prince gave her a push by mistake, which broke her
leg--he had never noticed her crawling about among the people's feet. She was
VERY unlucky!
The
good man's daughter hastened home again betimes, but the King's son had smeared
the door-posts with tar, and the girl's golden circlet stuck to it. She had not
time to look for it, but sprang to the saddle and rode like an arrow to the
birch tree. There she left her horse and her fine clothes, and said to her
mother:
`I
have lost my circlet at the castle; the door-post was tarred, and it stuck
fast.'
`And
even had you lost two of them,' answered her mother, `I would give you finer
ones.'
Then
the girl hastened home, and when her father came home from the feast with the
witch, she was in her usual place behind the stove. Then the witch said to her:
`You
poor thing! what is there to see here compared with what WE have seen at the
palace? The King's son carried my daughter from one room to another; he let her
fall, 'tis true, and my child's foot was broken.'
The
man's daughter held her peace all the time, and busied herself about the
hearth.
The
night passed, and when the day began to dawn, the witch awakened her husband,
crying:
`Hi!
get up, old man! We are bidden to the royal banquet.'
So
the old man got up. Then the witch gave him the child, saying:
`Take
you the little one; I will give the other girl work to do, else she will weary
at home alone.'
She
did as usual. This time it was a dish of milk she poured upon the ashes,
saying:
`If
you do not get all the milk into the dish again before I come home, you will
suffer for it.'
How
frightened the girl was this time! She ran to the birch tree, and by its magic
power her task was accomplished; and then she rode away to the palace as
before. When she got to the courtyard she found the Prince waiting for her. He
led her into the hall, where she was highly honoured; but the witch's daughter
sucked the bones under the table, and crouching at the people's feet she got an
eye knocked out, poor thing! Now no one knew any more than before about the
good man's daughter, no one knew whence she came; but the Prince had had the
threshold smeared with tar, and as she fled her gold slippers stuck to it. She
reached the birch tree, and laying aside her finery, she said:
`Alas
I dear little mother, I have lost my gold slippers!'
`Let
them be,' was her mother's reply; `if you need them I shall give you finer
ones.'
Scarcely
was she in her usual place behind the stove when her father came home with the
witch. Immediately the witch began to mock her, saying:
`Ah!
you poor thing, there is nothing for you to see here, and WE--ah: what great
things we have seen at the palace! My little girl was carried about again, but
had the ill-luck to fall and get her eye knocked out. You stupid thing, you,
what do you know about anything?'
`Yes,
indeed, what can I know?' replied the girl; `I had enough to do to get the
hearth clean.'
Now
the Prince had kept all the things the girl had lost, and he soon set about
finding the owner of them. For this purpose a great banquet was given on the
fourth day, and all the people were invited to the palace. The witch got ready
to go too. She tied a wooden beetle on where her child's foot should have been,
a log of wood instead of an arm, and stuck a bit of dirt in the empty socket
for an eye, and took the child with her to the castle. When all the people were
gathered together, the King's son stepped in among the crowd and cried:
`The
maiden whose finger this ring slips over, whose head this golden hoop
encircles, and whose foot this shoe fits, shall be my bride.'
What
a great trying on there was now among them all! The things would fit no one,
however.
`The
cinder wench is not here,' said the Prince at last; `go and fetch her, and let
her try on the things.'
So
the girl was fetched, and the Prince was just going to hand the ornaments to
her, when the witch held him back, saying: `Don't give them to her; she soils
everything with cinders; give them to my daughter rather.'
Well,
then the Prince gave the witch's daughter the ring, and the woman filed and
pared away at her daughter's finger till the ring fitted. It was the same with
the circlet and the shoes of gold. The witch would not allow them to be handed
to the cinder wench; she worked at her own daughter's head and feet till she
got the things forced on. What was to be done now? The Prince had to take the
witch's daughter for his bride whether he would or no; he sneaked away to her
father's house with her, however, for he was ashamed to hold the wedding
festivities at the palace with so strange a bride. Some days passed, and at
last he had to take his bride home to the palace, and he got ready to do so.
Just as they were taking leave, the kitchen wench sprang down from her place by
the stove, on the pretext of fetching something from the cowhouse, and in going
by she whispered in the Prince's ear as he stood in the yard:
`Alas!
dear Prince, do not rob me of my silver and my gold.'
Thereupon
the King's son recognised the cinder wench; so he took both the girls with him,
and set out. After they had gone some little way they came to the bank of a
river, and the Prince threw the witch's daughter across to serve as a bridge,
and so got over with the cinder wench. There lay the witch's daughter then,
like a bridge over the river, and could not stir, though her heart was consumed
with grief. No help was near, so she cried at last in her anguish:
`May
there grow a golden hemlock out of my body! perhaps my mother will know me by
that token.'
Scarcely
had she spoken when a golden hemlock sprang up from her, and stood upon the
bridge.
Now,
as soon as the Prince had got rid of the witch's daughter he greeted the cinder
wench as his bride, and they wandered together to the birch tree which grew
upon the mother's grave. There they received all sorts of treasures and riches,
three sacks full of gold, and as much silver, and a splendid steed, which bore
them home to the palace. There they lived a long time together, and the young
wife bore a son to the Prince. Immediately word was brought to the witch that
her daughter had borne a son--for they all believed the young King's wife to be
the witch's daughter.
`So,
so,' said the witch to herself; `I had better away with my gift for the infant,
then.'
And
so saying she set out. Thus it happened that she came to the bank of the river,
and there she saw the beautiful golden hemlock growing in the middle of the
bridge, and when she began to cut it down to take to her grandchild, she heard
a voice moaning:
`Alas!
dear mother, do not cut me so!'
`Are
you here?' demanded the witch.
`Indeed
I am, dear little mother,' answered the daughter `They threw me across the
river to make a bridge of me.'
In
a moment the witch had the bridge shivered to atoms, and then she hastened away
to the palace. Stepping up to the young Queen's bed, she began to try her magic
arts upon her, saying:
`Spit,
you wretch, on the blade of my knife; bewitch my knife's blade for me, and I
shall change you into a reindeer of the forest.'
`Are
you there again to bring trouble upon me?' said the young woman.
She
neither spat nor did anything else, but still the witch changed her into a
reindeer, and smuggled her own daughter into her place as the Prince's wife.
But now the child grew restless and cried, because it missed its mother's care.
They took it to the court, and tried to pacify it in every conceivable way, but
its crying never ceased.
`What
makes the child so restless?' asked the Prince, and he went to a wise widow
woman to ask her advice.
`Ay,
ay, your own wife is not at home,' said the widow woman; `she is living like a
reindeer in the wood; you have the witch's daughter for a wife now, and the
witch herself for a mother-in-law.'
`Is
there any way of getting my own wife back from the wood again?' asked the
Prince.
`Give
me the child,' answered the widow woman. `I'll take it with me to-morrow when I
go to drive the cows to the wood. I'll make a rustling among the birch leaves
and a trembling among the aspens--perhaps the boy will grow quiet when he hears
it.'
`Yes,
take the child away, take it to the wood with you to quiet it,' said the Prince,
and led the widow woman into the castle.
`How
now? you are going to send the child away to the wood?' said the witch in a
suspicious tone, and tried to interfere.
But
the King's son stood firm by what he had commanded, and said:
`Carry
the child about the wood; perhaps that will pacify it.'
So
the widow woman took the child to the wood. She came to the edge of a marsh,
and seeing a herd of reindeer there, she began all at once to sing--
`Little
Bright-eyes, little Redskin, Come nurse the child you bore! That bloodthirsty
monster, That man-eater grim, Shall nurse him, shall tend him no more. They may
threaten and force as they will, He turns from her, shrinks from her still,'
and
immediately the reindeer drew near, and nursed and tended the child the whole
day long; but at nightfall it had to follow the herd, and said to the widow
woman:
`Bring
me the child to-morrow, and again the following day; after that I must wander
with the herd far away to other lands.'
The
following morning the widow woman went back to the castle to fetch the child.
The witch interfered, of course, but the Prince said:
`Take
it, and carry it about in the open air; the boy is quieter at night, to be
sure, when he has been in the wood all day.'
So
the widow took the child in her arms, and carried it to the marsh in the
forest. There she sang as on the preceding day--
`Little
Bright-eyes, little Redskin, Come nurse the child you bore! That bloodthirsty
monster, That man-eater grim, Shall nurse him, shall tend him no more. They may
threaten and force as they will, He turns from her, shrinks from her still,'
and
immediately the reindeer left the herd and came to the child, and tended it as
on the day before. And so it was that the child throve, till not a finer boy
was to be seen anywhere. But the King's son had been pondering over all these
things, and he said to the widow woman:
`Is
there no way of changing the reindeer into a human being again?'
`I
don't rightly know,' was her answer. `Come to the wood with me, however; when
the woman puts off her reindeer skin I shall comb her head for her; whilst I am
doing so you must burn the skin.'
Thereupon
they both went to the wood with the child; scarcely were they there when the
reindeer appeared and nursed the child as before. Then the widow woman said to
the reindeer:
`Since
you are going far away to-morrow, and I shall not see you again, let me comb
your head for the last time, as a remembrance of you.'
Good;
the young woman stript off the reindeer skin, and let the widow woman do as she
wished. In the meantime the King's son threw the reindeer skin into the fire
unobserved.
`What
smells of singeing here?' asked the young woman, and looking round she saw her
own husband. `Woe is me! you have burnt my skin. Why did you do that?'
`To
give you back your human form again.'
`Alack-a-day!
I have nothing to cover me now, poor creature that I am!' cried the young
woman, and transformed herself first into a distaff, then into a wooden beetle,
then into a spindle, and into all imaginable shapes. But all these shapes the
King's son went on destroying till she stood before him in human form again.
Alas!
wherefore take me home with you again,' cried the young woman, `since the witch
is sure to eat me up?'
`She
will not eat you up,' answered her husband; and they started for home with the
child.
But
when the witch wife saw them she ran away with her daughter, and if she has not
stopped she is running still, though at a great age. And the Prince, and his
wife, and the baby lived happy ever afterwards.[9]
[9]
From the Russo-Karelian.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f12]
JACK
AND THE BEANSTALK
JACK
SELLS THE COW
ONCE
upon a time there was a poor widow who lived in a little cottage with her only
son Jack.
Jack
was a giddy, thoughtless boy, but very kind-hearted and affectionate. There had
been a hard winter, and after it the poor woman had suffered from fever and
ague. Jack did no work as yet, and by degrees they grew dreadfully poor. The
widow saw that there was no means of keeping Jack and herself from starvation
but by selling her cow; so one morning she said to her son, `I am too weak to
go myself, Jack, so you must take the cow to market for me, and sell her.'
Jack
liked going to market to sell the cow very much; but as he was on the way, he
met a butcher who had some beautiful beans in his hand. Jack stopped to look at
them, and the butcher told the boy that they were of great value, and persuaded
the silly lad to sell the cow for these beans.
When
he brought them home to his mother instead of the money she expected for her
nice cow, she was very vexed and shed many tears, scolding Jack for his folly.
He was very sorry, and mother and son went to bed very sadly that night; their
last hope seemed gone.
At
daybreak Jack rose and went out into the garden.
`At
least,' he thought, `I will sow the wonderful beans. Mother says that they are
just common scarlet-runners, and nothing else; but I may as well sow them.'
So
he took a piece of stick, and made some holes in the ground, and put in the
beans.
That
day they had very little dinner, and went sadly to bed, knowing that for the
next day there would be none and Jack, unable to sleep from grief and vexation,
got up at day-dawn and went out into the garden.
What
was his amazement to find that the beans had grown up in the night, and climbed
up and up till they covered the high cliff that sheltered the cottage, and
disappeared above it! The stalks had twined and twisted themselves together
till they formed quite a ladder.
`It
would be easy to climb it,' thought Jack.
And,
having thought of the experiment, he at once resolved to carry it out, for Jack
was a good climber. However, after his late mistake about the cow, he thought
he had better consult his mother first.
WONDERFUL
GROWTH OF THE BEANSTALK
So
Jack called his mother, and they both gazed in silent wonder at the Beanstalk,
which was not only of great height, but was thick enough to bear Jack's weight.
`I
wonder where it ends,' said Jack to his mother; `I think I will climb up and
see.'
His
mother wished him not to venture up this strange ladder, but Jack coaxed her to
give her consent to the attempt, for he was certain there must be something
wonderful in the Beanstalk; so at last she yielded to his wishes.
Jack
instantly began to climb, and went up and up on the ladder-like bean till
everything he had left behind him--the cottage, the village, and even the tall
church tower--looked quite little, and still he could not see the top of the
Beanstalk.
Jack
felt a little tired, and thought for a moment that he would go back again; but
he was a very persevering boy, and he knew that the way to succeed in anything
is not to give up. So after resting for a moment he went on.
After
climbing higher and higher, till he grew afraid to look down for fear he should
be giddy, Jack at last reached the top of the Beanstalk, and found himself in a
beautiful country, finely wooded, with beautiful meadows covered with sheep. A
crystal stream ran through the pastures; not far from the place where he had
got off the Beanstalk stood a fine, strong castle.
Jack
wondered very much that he had never heard of or seen this castle before; but
when he reflected on the subject, he saw that it was as much separated from the
village by the perpendicular rock on which it stood as if it were in another
land.
While
Jack was standing looking at the castle, a very strange-looking woman came out
of the wood, and advanced towards him.
She
wore a pointed cap of quilted red satin turned up with ermine, her hair
streamed loose over her shoulders, and she walked with a staff. Jack took off
his cap and made her a bow.
`If
you please, ma'am,' said he, `is this your house?'
`No,'
said the old lady. `Listen, and I will tell you the story of that castle.
`Once
upon a time there was a noble knight, who lived in this castle, which is on the
borders of Fairyland. He had a fair and beloved wife and several lovely
children: and as his neighbours, the little people, were very friendly towards
him, they bestowed on him many excellent and precious gifts.
`Rumour
whispered of these treasures; and a monstrous giant, who lived at no great
distance, and who was a very wicked being, resolved to obtain possession of
them.
`So
he bribed a false servant to let him inside the castle, when the knight was in
bed and asleep, and he killed him as he lay. Then he went to the part of the
castle which was the nursery, and also killed all the poor little ones he found
there.
`Happily
for her, the lady was not to be found. She had gone with her infant son, who
was only two or three months old, to visit her old nurse, who lived in the
valley; and she had been detained all night there by a storm.
`The
next morning, as soon as it was light, one of the servants at the castle, who
had managed to escape, came to tell the poor lady of the sad fate of her
husband and her pretty babes. She could scarcely believe him at first, and was
eager at once to go back and share the fate of her dear ones; but the old
nurse, with many tears, besought her to remember that she had still a child,
and that it was her duty to preserve her life for the sake of the poor
innocent.
`The
lady yielded to this reasoning, and consented to remain at her nurse's house as
the best place of concealment; for the servant told her that the giant had
vowed, if he could find her, he would kill both her and her baby. Years rolled
on. The old nurse died, leaving her cottage and the few articles of furniture
it contained to her poor lady, who dwelt in it, working as a peasant for her
daily bread. Her spinning-wheel and the milk of a cow, which she had purchased
with the little money she had with her, sufficed for the scanty subsistence of
herself and her little son. There was a nice little garden attached to the
cottage, in which they cultivated peas, beans, and cabbages, and the lady was
not ashamed to go out at harvest time, and glean in the fields to supply her
little son's wants.
`Jack,
that poor lady is your mother. This castle was once your father's, and must
again be yours.'
Jack
uttered a cry of surprise.
`My
mother! oh, madam, what ought I to do? My poor father! My dear mother!'
`Your
duty requires you to win it back for your mother. But the task is a very
difficult one, and full of peril, Jack. Have you courage to undertake it?'
`I
fear nothing when I am doing right,' said Jack.
`Then,'
said the lady in the red cap, `you are one of those who slay giants. You must
get into the castle, and if possible possess yourself of a hen that lays golden
eggs, and a harp that talks. Remember, all the giant possesses is really
yours.' As she ceased speaking, the lady of the red hat suddenly disappeared,
and of course Jack knew she was a fairy.
Jack
determined at once to attempt the adventure; so he advanced, and blew the horn
which hung at the castle portal. The door was opened in a minute or two by a
frightful giantess, with one great eye in the middle of her forehead.
As
soon as Jack saw her he turned to run away, but she caught him, and dragged him
into the castle.
`Ho,
ho!' she laughed terribly. `You didn't expect to see me here, that is clear!
No, I shan't let you go again. I am weary of my life. I am so overworked, and I
don't see why I should not have a page as well as other ladies. And you shall
be my boy. You shall clean the knives, and black the boots, and make the fires,
and help me generally when the giant is out. When he is at home I must hide
you, for he has eaten up all my pages hitherto, and you would be a dainty
morsel, my little lad.'
While
she spoke she dragged Jack right into the castle. The poor boy was very much
frightened, as I am sure you and I would have been in his place. But he
remembered that fear disgraces a man; so he struggled to be brave and make the
best of things.
`I
am quite ready to help you, and do all I can to serve you, madam,' he said,
`only I beg you will be good enough to hide me from your husband, for I should
not like to be eaten at all.'
`That's
a good boy,' said the Giantess, nodding her head; `it is lucky for you that you
did not scream out when you saw me, as the other boys who have been here did,
for if you had done so my husband would have awakened and have eaten you, as he
did them, for breakfast. Come here, child; go into my wardrobe: he never
ventures to open THAT; you will be safe there.'
And
she opened a huge wardrobe which stood in the great hall, and shut him into it.
But the keyhole was so large that it ad-mitted plenty of air, and he could see
everything that took place through it. By-and-by he heard a heavy tramp on the
stairs, like the lumbering along of a great cannon, and then a voice like
thunder cried out;
`Fe,
fa, fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an Englishman. Let him be alive or let him
be dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.'
`Wife,'
cried the Giant, `there is a man in the castle. Let me have him for breakfast.'
`You
are grown old and stupid,' cried the lady in her loud tones. `It is only a nice
fresh steak off an elephant, that I have cooked for you, which you smell.
There, sit down and make a good breakfast.'
And
she placed a huge dish before him of savoury steaming meat, which greatly
pleased him, and made him forget his idea of an Englishman being in the castle.
When he had breakfasted he went out for a walk; and then the Giantess opened
the door, and made Jack come out to help her. He helped her all day. She fed
him well, and when evening came put him back in the wardrobe.
THE
HEN THAT LAYS GOLDEN EGGS.
The
Giant came in to supper. Jack watched him through the keyhole, and was amazed
to see him pick a wolf's bone, and put half a fowl at a time into his capacious
mouth.
When
the supper was ended he bade his wife bring him his hen that laid the golden
eggs.
`It
lays as well as it did when it belonged to that paltry knight,' he said;
`indeed I think the eggs are heavier than ever.'
The
Giantess went away, and soon returned with a little brown hen, which she placed
on the table before her husband. `And now, my dear,' she said, `I am going for
a walk, if you don't want me any longer.'
`Go,'
said the Giant; `I shall be glad to have a nap by-and-by.'
Then
he took up the brown hen and said to her:
`Lay!'
And she instantly laid a golden egg.
`Lay!'
said the Giant again. And she laid another.
`Lay!'
he repeated the third time. And again a golden egg lay on the table.
Now
Jack was sure this hen was that of which the fairy had spoken.
By-and-by
the Giant put the hen down on the floor, and soon after went fast asleep,
snoring so loud that it sounded like thunder.
Directly
Jack perceived that the Giant was fast asleep, he pushed open the door of the
wardrobe and crept out; very softly he stole across the room, and, picking up
the hen, made haste to quit the apartment. He knew the way to the kitchen, the
door of which he found was left ajar; he opened it, shut and locked it after
him, and flew back to the Beanstalk, which he descended as fast as his feet
would move.
When
his mother saw him enter the house she wept for joy, for she had feared that
the fairies had carried him away, or that the Giant had found him. But Jack put
the brown hen down before her, and told her how he had been in the Giant's
castle, and all his adventures. She was very glad to see the hen, which would
make them rich once more.
THE
MONEY BAGS.
Jack
made another journey up the Beanstalk to the Giant's castle one day while his
mother had gone to market; but first he dyed his hair and disguised himself.
The old woman did not know him again, and dragged him in as she had done
before, to help her to do the work; but she heard her husband coming, and hid
him in the wardrobe, not thinking that it was the same boy who had stolen the
hen. She bade him stay quite still there, or the Giant would eat him.
Then
the Giant came in saying:
`Fe,
fa, fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an Englishman. Let him be alive or let him
be dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.'
`Nonsense!'
said the wife, `it is only a roasted bullock that I thought would be a tit-bit
for your supper; sit down and I will bring it up at once.' The Giant sat down,
and soon his wife brought up a roasted bullock on a large dish, and they began
their supper. Jack was amazed to see them pick the bones of the bullock as if
it had been a lark. As soon as they had finished their meal, the Giantess rose
and said:
`Now,
my dear, with your leave I am going up to my room to finish the story I am
reading. If you want me call for me.'
`First,'
answered the Giant, `bring me my money bags, that I may count my golden pieces
before I sleep.' The Giantess obeyed. She went and soon returned with two large
bags over her shoulders, which she put down by her husband.
`There,'
she said; `that is all that is left of the knight's money. When you have spent
it you must go and take another baron's castle.'
`That
he shan't, if I can help it,' thought Jack.
The
Giant, when his wife was gone, took out heaps and heaps of golden pieces, and
counted them, and put them in piles, till he was tired of the amusement. Then
he swept them all back into their bags, and leaning back in his chair fell fast
asleep, snoring so loud that no other sound was audible.
Jack
stole softly out of the wardrobe, and taking up the bags of money (which were
his very own, because the Giant had stolen them from his father), he ran off,
and with great difficulty descending the Beanstalk, laid the bags of gold on
his mother's table. She had just returned from town, and was crying at not
finding Jack.
`There,
mother, I have brought you the gold that my father lost.'
`Oh,
Jack! you are a very good boy, but I wish you would not risk your precious life
in the Giant's castle. Tell me how you came to go there again.'
And
Jack told her all about it.
Jack's
mother was very glad to get the money, but she did not like him to run any risk
for her.
But
after a time Jack made up his mind to go again to the Giant's castle.
THE
TALKING HARP.
So
he climbed the Beanstalk once more, and blew the horn at the Giant's gate. The
Giantess soon opened the door; she was very stupid, and did not know him again,
but she stopped a minute before she took him in. She feared another robbery;
but Jack's fresh face looked so innocent that she could not resist him, and so
she bade him come in, and again hid him away in the wardrobe.
By-and-by
the Giant came home, and as soon as he had crossed the threshold he roared out:
`Fe,
fa, fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an Englishman. Let him be alive or let him
be dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.'
`You
stupid old Giant,' said his wife, `you only smell a nice sheep, which I have
grilled for your dinner.'
And
the Giant sat down, and his wife brought up a whole sheep for his dinner. When
he had eaten it all up, he said:
`Now
bring me my harp, and I will have a little music while you take your walk.'
The
Giantess obeyed, and returned with a beautiful harp. The framework was all sparkling
with diamonds and rubies, and the strings were all of gold.
`This
is one of the nicest things I took from the knight,' said the Giant. `I am very
fond of music, and my harp is a faithful servant.'
So
he drew the harp towards him, and said:
`Play!'
And
the harp played a very soft, sad air.
`Play
something merrier!' said the Giant.
And
the harp played a merry tune.
`Now
play me a lullaby,' roared the Giant; and the harp played a sweet lullaby, to
the sound of which its master fell asleep.
Then
Jack stole softly out of the wardrobe, and went into the huge kitchen to see if
the Giantess had gone out; he found no one there, so he went to the door and
opened it softly, for he thought he could not do so with the harp in his hand.
Then
he entered the Giant's room and seized the harp and ran away with it; but as he
jumped over the threshold the harp called out:
`MASTER!
MASTER!'
And
the Giant woke up.
With
a tremendous roar he sprang from his seat, and in two strides had reached the
door.
But
Jack was very nimble. He fled like lightning with the harp, talking to it as he
went (for he saw it was a fairy), and telling it he was the son of its old
master, the knight.
Still
the Giant came on so fast that he was quite close to poor Jack, and had
stretched out his great hand to catch him. But, luckily, just at that moment he
stepped upon a loose stone, stumbled, and fell flat on the ground, where he lay
at his full length.
This
accident gave Jack time to get on the Beanstalk and hasten down it; but just as
he reached their own garden he beheld the Giant descending after him.
`Mother
I mother!' cried Jack, `make haste and give me the axe.'
His
mother ran to him with a hatchet in her hand, and Jack with one tremendous blow
cut through all the Beanstalks except one.
`Now,
mother, stand out of the way!' said he.
THE
GIANT BREAKS HIS NECK.
Jack's
mother shrank back, and it was well she did so, for just as the Giant took hold
of the last branch of the Beanstalk, Jack cut the stem quite through and darted
from the spot.
Down
came the Giant with a terrible crash, and as he fell on his head, he broke his
neck, and lay dead at the feet of the woman he had so much injured.
Before
Jack and his mother had recovered from their alarm and agitation, a beautiful
lady stood before them.
`Jack,'
said she, `you have acted like a brave knight's son, and deserve to have your
inheritance restored to you. Dig a grave and bury the Giant, and then go and
kill the Giantess.'
`But,'
said Jack, `I could not kill anyone unless I were fighting with him; and I
could not draw my sword upon a woman. Moreover, the Giantess was very kind to
me.'
The
Fairy smiled on Jack.
`I
am very much pleased with your generous feeling,' she said. `Nevertheless,
return to the castle, and act as you will find needful.'
Jack
asked the Fairy if she would show him the way to the castle, as the Beanstalk
was now down. She told him that she would drive him there in her chariot, which
was drawn by two peacocks. Jack thanked her, and sat down in the chariot with
her.
The
Fairy drove him a long distance round, till they reached a village which lay at
the bottom of the hill. Here they found a number of miserable-looking men
assembled. The Fairy stopped her carriage and addressed them:
`My
friends,' said she, `the cruel giant who oppressed you and ate up all your
flocks and herds is dead, and this young gentleman was the means of your being
delivered from him, and is the son of your kind old master, the knight.'
The
men gave a loud cheer at these words, and pressed forward to say that they
would serve Jack as faithfully as they had served his father. The Fairy bade
them follow her to the castle, and they marched thither in a body, and Jack
blew the horn and demanded admittance.
The
old Giantess saw them coming from the turret loop-hole. She was very much
frightened, for she guessed that something had happened to her husband; and as
she came downstairs very fast she caught her foot in her dress, and fell from
the top to the bottom and broke her neck.
When
the people outside found that the door was not opened to them, they took
crowbars and forced the portal. Nobody was to be seen, but on leaving the hall
they found the body of the Giantess at the foot of the stairs.
Thus
Jack took possession of the castle. The Fairy went and brought his mother to
him, with the hen and the harp. He had the Giantess buried, and endeavoured as
much as lay in his power to do right to those whom the Giant had robbed.
Before
her departure for fairyland, the Fairy explained to Jack that she had sent the
butcher to meet him with the beans, in order to try what sort of lad he was.
If
you had looked at the gigantic Beanstalk and only stupidly wondered about it,'
she said, `I should have left you where misfortune had placed you, only
restoring her cow to your mother. But you showed an inquiring mind, and great
courage and enterprise, therefore you deserve to rise; and when you mounted the
Beanstalk you climbed the Ladder of Fortune.'
She
then took her leave of Jack and his mother.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f13]
THE
LITTLE GOOD MOUSE
ONCE
upon a time there lived a King and Queen who loved each other so much that they
were never happy unless they were together. Day after day they went out hunting
or fishing; night after night they went to balls or to the opera; they sang,
and danced, and ate sugar-plums, and were the gayest of the gay, and all their
subjects followed their example so that the kingdom was called the Joyous Land.
Now in the next kingdom everything was as different as it could possibly be.
The King was sulky and savage, and never enjoyed himself at all. He looked so
ugly and cross that all his subjects feared him, and he hated the very sight of
a cheerful face; so if he ever caught anyone smiling he had his head cut off
that very minute. This kingdom was very appropriately called the Land of Tears.
Now when this wicked King heard of the happiness of the Jolly King, he was so
jealous that he collected a great army and set out to fight him, and the news
of his approach was soon brought to the King and Queen. The Queen, when she
heard of it, was frightened out of her wits, and began to cry bitterly. `Sire,'
she said, `let us collect all our riches and run away as far as ever we can, to
the other side of the world.'
But
the King answered:
`Fie,
madam! I am far too brave for that. It is better to die than to be a coward.'
Then
he assembled all his armed men, and after bidding the Queen a tender farewell,
he mounted his splendid horse and rode away. When he was lost to sight the
Queen could do nothing but weep, and wring her hands, and cry.
`Alas!
If the King is killed, what will become of me and of my little daughter?' and
she was so sorrowful that she could neither eat nor sleep.
The
King sent her a letter every day, but at last, one morning, as she looked out
of the palace window, she saw a messenger approaching in hot haste.
`What
news, courier? What news?' cried the Queen, and he answered:
`The
battle is lost and the King is dead, and in another moment the enemy will be
here.'
The
poor Queen fell back insensible, and all her ladies carried her to bed, and
stood round her weeping and wailing. Then began a tremendous noise and
confusion, and they knew that the enemy had arrived, and very soon they heard
the King himself stamping about the palace seeking the Queen. Then her ladies
put the little Princess into her arms, and covered her up, head and all, in the
bedclothes, and ran for their lives, and the poor Queen lay there shaking, and
hoping she would not be found. But very soon the wicked King clattered into the
room, and in a fury because the Queen would not answer when he called to her, he
tore back her silken coverings and tweaked off her lace cap, and when all her
lovely hair came tumbling down over her shoulders, he wound it three times
round his hand and threw her over his shoulder, where he carried her like a
sack of flour.
The
poor Queen held her little daughter safe in her arms and shrieked for mercy,
but the wicked King only mocked her, and begged her to go on shrieking, as it
amused him, and so mounted his great black horse, and rode back to his own
country. When he got there he declared that he would have the Queen and the
little Princess hanged on the nearest tree; but his courtiers said that seemed
a pity, for when the baby grew up she would be a very nice wife for the King's
only son.
The
King was rather pleased with this idea, and shut the Queen up in the highest
room of a tall tower, which was very tiny, and miserably furnished with a table
and a very hard bed upon the floor. Then he sent for a fairy who lived near his
kingdom, and after receiving her with more politeness than he generally showed,
and entertaining her at a sumptuous feast, he took her up to see the Queen. The
fairy was so touched by the sight of her misery that when she kissed her hand
she whispered:
`Courage,
madam! I think I see a way to help you.'
The
Queen, a little comforted by these words, received her graciously, and begged
her to take pity upon the poor little Princess, who had met with such a sudden
reverse of fortune. But the King got very cross when he saw them whispering
together, and cried harshly:
`Make
an end of these fine speeches, madam. I brought you here to tell me if the
child will grow up pretty and fortunate.'
Then
the Fairy answered that the Princess would be as pretty, and clever, and well
brought up as it was possible to be, and the old King growled to the Queen that
it was lucky for her that it was so, as they would certainly have been hanged
if it were otherwise. Then he stamped off, taking the Fairy with him, and
leaving the poor Queen in tears.
`How
can I wish my little daughter to grow up pretty if she is to be married to that
horrid little dwarf, the King's son,' she said to herself, `and yet, if she is
ugly we shall both be killed. If I could only hide her away somewhere, so that
the cruel King could never find her.'
As
the days went on, the Queen and the little Princess grew thinner and thinner,
for their hard-hearted gaoler gave them every day only three boiled peas and a
tiny morsel of black bread, so they were always terribly hungry. At last, one
evening, as the Queen sat at her spinning-wheel--for the King was so avaricious
that she was made to work day and night--she saw a tiny, pretty little mouse
creep out of a hole, and said to it:
`Alas,
little creature! what are you coming to look for here? I only have three peas
for my day's provision, so unless you wish to fast you must go elsewhere.'
But
the mouse ran hither and thither, and danced and capered so prettily, that at
last the Queen gave it her last pea, which she was keeping for her supper,
saying: `Here, little one, eat it up; I have nothing better to offer you, but I
give this willingly in return for the amusement I have had from you.'
She
had hardly spoken when she saw upon the table a delicious little roast
partridge, and two dishes of preserved fruit. `Truly,' said she, `a kind action
never goes unrewarded; `and she and the little Princess ate their supper with
great satisfaction, and then the Queen gave what was left to the little mouse,
who danced better than ever afterwards. The next morning came the gaoler with
the Queen's allowance of three peas, which he brought in upon a large dish to
make them look smaller; but as soon as he set it down the little mouse came and
ate up all three, so that when the Queen wanted her dinner there was nothing
left for her. Then she was quite provoked, and said:
`What
a bad little beast that mouse must be! If it goes on like this I shall be
starved.' But when she glanced at the dish again it was covered with all sorts
of nice things to eat, and the Queen made a very good dinner, and was gayer
than usual over it. But afterwards as she sat at her spinning-wheel she began
to consider what would happen if the little Princess did not grow up pretty
enough to please the King, and she said to herself:
`Oh!
if I could only think of some way of escaping.'
As
she spoke she saw the little mouse playing in a corner with some long straws.
The Queen took them and began to plait them, saying:
`If
only I had straws enough I would make a basket with them, and let my baby down
in it from the window to any kind passer-by who would take care of her.'
By
the time the straws were all plaited the little mouse had dragged in more and
more, until the Queen had plenty to make her basket, and she worked at it day
and night, while the little mouse danced for her amusement; and at dinner and
supper time the Queen gave it the three peas and the bit of black bread, and
always found something good in the dish in their place. She really could not
imagine where all the nice things came from. At last one day when the basket
was finished, the Queen was looking out of the window to see how long a cord
she must make to lower it to the bottom of the tower, when she noticed a little
old woman who was leaning upon her stick and looking up at her. Presently she
said:
`I
know your trouble, madam. If you like I will help you.'
`Oh!
my dear friend,' said the Queen. `If you really wish to be of use to me you
will come at the time that I will appoint, and I will let down my poor little
baby in a basket. If you will take her, and bring her up for me, when I am rich
I will reward you splendidly.'
`I
don't care about the reward,' said the old woman, `but there is one thing I
should like. You must know that I am very particular about what I eat, and if
there is one thing that I fancy above all others, it is a plump, tender little
mouse. If there is such a thing in your garret just throw it down to me, and in
return I will promise that your little daughter shall be well taken care of.'
The
Queen when she heard this began to cry, but made no answer, and the old woman
after waiting a few minutes asked her what was the matter.
`Why,'
said the Queen, `there is only one mouse in this garret, and that is such a
dear, pretty little thing that I cannot bear to think of its being killed.'
`What!'
cried the old woman, in a rage. `Do you care more for a miserable mouse than
for your own baby? Good-bye, madam! I leave you to enjoy its company, and for
my own part I thank my stars that I can get plenty of mice without troubling
you to give them to me.'
And
she hobbled off grumbling and growling. As to the Queen, she was so
disappointed that, in spite of finding a better dinner than usual, and seeing
the little mouse dancing in its merriest mood, she could do nothing but cry.
That night when her baby was fast asleep she packed it into the basket, and
wrote on a slip of paper, `This unhappy little girl is called Delicia!' This
she pinned to its robe, and then very sadly she was shutting the basket, when
in sprang the little mouse and sat on the baby's pillow.
`Ah!
little one,' said the Queen, `it cost me dear to save your life. How shall I
know now whether my Delicia is being taken care of or no? Anyone else would
have let the greedy old woman have you, and eat you up, but I could not bear to
do it.' Whereupon the Mouse answered:
`Believe
me, madam, you will never repent of your kindness.'
The
Queen was immensely astonished when the Mouse began to speak, and still more so
when she saw its little sharp nose turn to a beautiful face, and its paws to
hands and feet; then it suddenly grew tall, and the Queen recognised the Fairy
who had come with the wicked King to visit her.
The
Fairy smiled at her astonished look, and said:
`I
wanted to see if you were faithful and capable of feeling a real friendship for
me, for you see we fairies are rich in everything but friends, and those are
hard to find.'
`It
is not possible that YOU should want for friends, you charming creature,' said
the Queen, kissing her.
`Indeed
it is so,' the Fairy said. `For those who are only friendly with me for their
own advantage, I do not count at all. But when you cared for the poor little
mouse you could not have known there was anything to be gained by it, and to
try you further I took the form of the old woman whom you talked to from the
window, and then I was convinced that you really loved me.' Then, turning to
the little Princess, she kissed her rosy lips three times, saying:
`Dear
little one, I promise that you shall be richer than your father, and shall live
a hundred years, always pretty and happy, without fear of old age and
wrinkles.'
The
Queen, quite delighted, thanked the Fairy gratefully, and begged her to take
charge of the little Delicia and bring her up as her own daughter. This she
agreed to do, and then they shut the basket and lowered it carefully, baby and
all, to the ground at the foot of the tower. The Fairy then changed herself
back into the form of a mouse, and this delayed her a few seconds, after which
she ran nimbly down the straw rope, but only to find when she got to the bottom
that the baby had disappeared.
In
the greatest terror she ran up again to the Queen, crying:
`All
is lost! my enemy Cancaline has stolen the Princess away. You must know that
she is a cruel fairy who hates me, and as she is older than I am and has more
power, I can do nothing against her. I know no way of rescuing Delicia from her
clutches.'
When
the Queen heard this terrible news she was heart-broken, and begged the Fairy
to do all she could to get the poor little Princess back again. At this moment
in came the gaoler, and when he missed the little Princess he at once told the
King, who came in a great fury asking what the Queen had done with her. She answered
that a fairy, whose name she did not know, had come and carried her off by
force. Upon this the King stamped upon the ground, and cried in a terrible
voice:
`You
shall be hung! I always told you you should.' And without another word he
dragged the unlucky Queen out into the nearest wood, and climbed up into a tree
to look for a branch to which he could hang her. But when he was quite high up,
the Fairy, who had made herself invisible and followed them, gave him a sudden
push, which made him lose his footing and fall to the ground with a crash and
break four of his teeth, and while he was trying to mend them the fairy carried
the Queen off in her flying chariot to a beautiful castle, where she was so
kind to her that but for the loss of Delicia the Queen would have been
perfectly happy. But though the good little mouse did her very utmost, they
could not find out where Cancaline had hidden the little Princess.
Thus
fifteen years went by, and the Queen had somewhat recovered from her grief,
when the news reached her that the son of the wicked King wished to marry the
little maiden who kept the turkeys, and that she had refused him; the
wedding-dresses had been made, nevertheless, and the festivities were to be so
splendid that all the people for leagues round were flocking in to be present
at them. The Queen felt quite curious about a little turkey-maiden who did not
wish to be a Queen, so the little mouse conveyed herself to the poultry-yard to
find out what she was like.
She
found the turkey-maiden sitting upon a big stone, barefooted, and miserably
dressed in an old, coarse linen gown and cap; the ground at her feet was all
strewn with robes of gold and silver, ribbons and laces, diamonds and pearls,
over which the turkeys were stalking to and fro, while the King's ugly,
disagreeable son stood opposite her, declaring angrily that if she would not
marry him she should be killed.
The
Turkey-maiden answered proudly:
`I
never will marry you I you are too ugly and too much like your cruel father.
Leave me in peace with my turkeys, which I like far better than all your fine
gifts.'
The
little mouse watched her with the greatest admiration, for she was as beautiful
as the spring; and as soon as the wicked Prince was gone, she took the form of an
old peasant woman and said to her:
`Good
day, my pretty one! you have a fine flock of turkeys there.'
The
young Turkey-maiden turned her gentle eyes upon the old woman, and answered:
`Yet
they wish me to leave them to become a miserable Queen! what is your advice
upon the matter?'
`My
child,' said the Fairy, `a crown is a very pretty thing, but you know neither
the price nor the weight of it.'
`I
know so well that I have refused to wear one,' said the little maiden, `though
I don't know who was my father, or who was my mother, and I have not a friend
in the world.'
`You
have goodness and beauty, which are of more value than ten kingdoms,' said the
wise Fairy. `But tell me, child, how came you here, and how is it you have
neither father, nor mother, nor friend?'
`A
Fairy called Cancaline is the cause of my being here,' answered she, `for while
I lived with her I got nothing but blows and harsh words, until at last I could
bear it no longer, and ran away from her without knowing where I was going, and
as I came through a wood the wicked Prince met me, and offered to give me
charge of the poultry-yard. I accepted gladly, not knowing that I should have
to see him day by day. And now he wants to marry me, but that I will never
consent to.'
Upon
hearing this the Fairy became convinced that the little Turkey-maiden was none
other than the Princess Delicia.
`What
is your name, my little one?' said she.
`I
am called Delicia, if it please you,' she answered.
Then
the Fairy threw her arms round the Princess's neck, and nearly smothered her
with kisses, saying:
`Ah,
Delicia! I am a very old friend of yours, and I am truly glad to find you at
last; but you might look nicer than you do in that old gown, which is only fit
for a kitchen-maid. Take this pretty dress and let us see the difference it
will make.'
So
Delicia took off the ugly cap, and shook out all her fair shining hair, and
bathed her hands and face in clear water from the nearest spring till her
cheeks were like roses, and when she was adorned with the diamonds and the
splendid robe the Fairy had given her, she looked the most beautiful Princess
in the world, and the Fairy with great delight cried:
`Now
you look as you ought to look, Delicia: what do you think about it yourself?'
And
Delicia answered:
`I
feel as if I were the daughter of some great king.'
`And
would you be glad if you were?' said the Fairy.
`Indeed
I should,' answered she.
`Ah,
well,' said the Fairy, `to-morrow I may have some pleasant news for you.'
So
she hurried back to her castle, where the Queen sat busy with her embroidery,
and cried:
`Well,
madam! will you wager your thimble and your golden needle that I am bringing
you the best news you could possibly hear?'
`Alas!'
sighed the Queen, `since the death of the Jolly King and the loss of my
Delicia, all the news in the world is not worth a pin to me.
`There,
there, don't be melancholy,' said the Fairy. `I assure you the Princess is
quite well, and I have never seen her equal for beauty. She might be a Queen
to-morrow if she chose; `and then she told all that had happened, and the Queen
first rejoiced over the thought of Delicia's beauty, and then wept at the idea
of her being a Turkey-maiden.
`I
will not hear of her being made to marry the wicked King's son,' she said. `Let
us go at once and bring her here.'
In
the meantime the wicked Prince, who was very angry with Delicia, had sat
himself down under a tree, and cried and howled with rage and spite until the
King heard him, and cried out from the window:
`What
is the matter with you, that you are making all this disturbance?'
The
Prince replied:
`It
is all because our Turkey-maiden will not love me!'
`Won't
love you? eh!' said the King. `We'll very soon see about that!' So he called
his guards and told them to go and fetch Delicia. `See if I don't make her
change her mind pretty soon!' said the wicked King with a chuckle.
Then
the guards began to search the poultry-yard, and could find nobody there but
Delicia, who, with her splendid dress and her crown of diamonds, looked such a
lovely Princess that they hardly dared to speak to her. But she said to them
very politely:
`Pray
tell me what you are looking for here?'
`Madam,'
they answered, `we are sent for an insignificant little person called Delicia.'
`Alas!'
said she, `that is my name. What can you want with me?'
So
the guards tied her hands and feet with thick ropes, for fear she might run
away, and brought her to the King, who was waiting with his son.
When
he saw her he was very much astonished at her beauty, which would have made
anyone less hard-hearted sorry for her. But the wicked King only laughed and
mocked at her, and cried: `Well, little fright, little toad! why don't you love
my son, who is far too handsome and too good for you? Make haste and begin to
love him this instant, or you shall be tarred and feathered.'
Then
the poor little Princess, shaking with terror, went down on her knees, crying:
`Oh,
don't tar and feather me, please! It would be so uncomfortable. Let me have two
or three days to make up my mind, and then you shall do as you like with me.'
The
wicked Prince would have liked very much to see her tarred and feathered, but
the King ordered that she should be shut up in a dark dungeon. It was just at
this moment that the Queen and the Fairy arrived in the flying chariot, and the
Queen was dreadfully distressed at the turn affairs had taken, and said
miserably that she was destined to be unfortunate all her days. But the Fairy
bade her take courage.
`I'll
pay them out yet,' said she, nodding her head with an air of great
determination.
That
very same night, as soon as the wicked King had gone to bed, the Fairy changed
herself into the little mouse, and creeping up on to his pillow nibbled his
ear, so that he squealed out quite loudly and turned over on his other side;
but that was no good, for the little mouse only set to work and gnawed away at
the second ear until it hurt more than the first one.
Then
the King cried `Murder!' and `Thieves!' and all his guards ran to see what was
the matter, but they could find nothing and nobody, for the little mouse had
run off to the Prince's room and was serving him in exactly the same way. All
night long she ran from one to the other, until at last, driven quite frantic
by terror and want of sleep, the King rushed out of the palace crying:
`Help!
help! I am pursued by rats.'
The
Prince when he heard this got up also, and ran after the King, and they had not
gone far when they both fell into the river and were never heard of again.
Then
the good Fairy ran to tell the Queen, and they went together to the black
dungeon where Delicia was imprisoned. The Fairy touched each door with her
wand, and it sprang open instantly, but they had to go through forty before
they came to the Princess, who was sitting on the floor looking very dejected.
But when the Queen rushed in, and kissed her twenty times in a minute, and
laughed, and cried, and told Delicia all her history, the Princess was wild
with delight. Then the Fairy showed her all the wonderful dresses and jewels
she had brought for her, and said:
`Don't
let us waste time; we must go and harangue the people.'
So
she walked first, looking very serious and dignified, and wearing a dress the
train of which was at least ten ells long. Behind her came the Queen wearing a
blue velvet robe embroidered with gold, and a diamond crown that was brighter
than the sun itself. Last of all walked Delicia, who was so beautiful that it
was nothing short of marvellous.
They
proceeded through the streets, returning the salutations of all they met, great
or small, and all the people turned and followed them, wondering who these
noble ladies could be.
When
the audience hall was quite full, the Fairy said to the subjects of the Wicked
King that if they would accept Delicia, who was the daughter of the Jolly King,
as their Queen, she would undertake to find a suitable husband for her, and
would promise that during their reign there should be nothing but rejoicing and
merry-making, and all dismal things should be entirely banished. Upon this the
people cried with one accord, `We will, we will! we have been gloomy and
miserable too long already.' And they all took hands and danced round the
Queen, and Delicia, and the good Fairy, singing: `Yes, yes; we will, we will!'
Then
there were feasts and fireworks in every street in the town, and early the next
morning the Fairy, who had been all over the world in the night, brought back
with her, in her flying chariot, the most handsome and good-tempered Prince she
could find anywhere. He was so charming that Delicia loved him from the moment
their eyes met, and as for him, of course he could not help thinking himself
the luckiest Prince in the world. The Queen felt that she had really come to
the end of her misfortunes at last, and they all lived happily ever after.[10]
[10]
La bonne vetite Souris' par Madame d'Aulnoy.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f14]
GRACIOSA
AND PERCINET
ONCE
upon a time there lived a King and Queen who had one charming daughter. She was
so graceful and pretty and clever that she was called Graciosa, and the Queen
was so fond of her that she could think of nothing else.
Everyday
she gave the Princess a lovely new frock of gold brocade, or satin, or velvet,
and when she was hungry she had bowls full of sugar-plums, and at least twenty
pots of jam. Everybody said she was the happiest Princess in the world. Now
there lived at this same court a very rich old duchess whose name was Grumbly.
She was more frightful than tongue can tell; her hair was red as fire, and she
had but one eye, and that not a pretty one! Her face was as broad as a full
moon, and her mouth was so large that everybody who met her would have been
afraid they were going to be eaten up, only she had no teeth. As she was as
cross as she was ugly, she could not bear to hear everyone saying how pretty
and how charming Graciosa was; so she presently went away from the court to her
own castle, which was not far off. But if anybody who went to see her happened
to mention the charming Princess, she would cry angrily:
`It's
not true that she is lovely. I have more beauty in my little finger than she
has in her whole body.'
Soon
after this, to the great grief of the Princess, the Queen was taken ill and
died, and the King became so melancholy that for a whole year he shut himself
up in his palace. At last his physicians, fearing that he would fall ill,
ordered that he should go out and amuse himself; so a hunting party was
arranged, but as it was very hot weather the King soon got tired, and said he
would dismount and rest at a castle which they were passing.
This
happened to be the Duchess Grumbly's castle, and when she heard that the King
was coming she went out to meet him, and said that the cellar was the coolest
place in the whole castle if he would condescend to come down into it. So down
they went together, and the King seeing about two hundred great casks ranged
side by side, asked if it was only for herself that she had this immense store
of wine.
`Yes,
sire,' answered she, `it is for myself alone, but I shall be most happy to let
you taste some of it. Which do you like, canary, St. Julien, champagne, hermitage
sack, raisin, or cider?'
`Well,'
said the King, `since you are so kind as to ask me, I prefer champagne to
anything else.'
Then
Duchess Grumbly took up a little hammer and tapped upon the cask twice, and out
came at least a thousand crowns.
`What's
the meaning of this?' said she smiling.
Then
she tapped the next cask, and out came a bushel of gold pieces.
`I
don't understand this at all,' said the Duchess, smiling more than before.
Then
she went on to the third cask, tap, tap, and out came such a stream of diamonds
and pearls that the ground was covered with them.
`Ah!'
she cried, `this is altogether beyond my comprehension, sire. Someone must have
stolen my good wine and put all this rubbish in its place.'
`Rubbish,
do you call it, Madam Grumbly?' cried the King. `Rubbish! why there is enough
there to buy ten kingdoms.'
`Well,'
said she, `you must know that all those casks are full of gold and jewels, and
if you like to marry me it shall all be yours.'
Now
the King loved money more than anything else in the world, so he cried
joyfully:
`Marry
you? why with all my heart! to-morrow if you like.'
`But
I make one condition,' said the Duchess; `I must have entire control of your
daughter to do as I please with her.'
`Oh
certainly, you shall have your own way; let us shake hands upon the bargain,'
said the King.
So
they shook hands and went up out of the cellar of treasure together, and the
Duchess locked the door and gave the key to the King.
When
he got back to his own palace Graciosa ran out to meet him, and asked if he had
had good sport.
`I
have caught a dove,' answered he.
`Oh!
do give it to me,' said the Princess, `and I will keep it and take care of it.'
`I
can hardly do that,' said he, `for, to speak more plainly, I mean that I met
the Duchess Grumbly, and have promised to marry her.'
`And
you call her a dove?' cried the Princess. `_I_ should have called her a screech
owl.'
`Hold
your tongue,' said the King, very crossly. `I intend you to behave prettily to
her. So now go and make yourself fit to be seen, as I am going to take you to
visit her.'
So
the Princess went very sorrowfully to her own room, and her nurse, seeing her
tears, asked what was vexing her.
`Alas!
who would not be vexed?' answered she, `for the King intends to marry again,
and has chosen for his new bride my enemy, the hideous Duchess Grumbly.'
`Oh,
well!' answered the nurse, `you must remember that you are a Princess, and are
expected to set a good example in making the best of whatever happens. You must
promise me not to let the Duchess see how much you dislike her.'
At
first the Princess would not promise, but the nurse showed her so many good
reasons for it that in the end she agreed to be amiable to her step-mother.
Then
the nurse dressed her in a robe of pale green and gold brocade, and combed out
her long fair hair till it floated round her like a golden mantle, and put on
her head a crown of roses and jasmine with emerald leaves.
When
she was ready nobody could have been prettier, but she still could not help
looking sad.
Meanwhile
the Duchess Grumbly was also occupied in attiring herself. She had one of her
shoe heels made an inch or so higher than the other, that she might not limp so
much, and put in a cunningly made glass eye in the place of the one she had
lost. She dyed her red hair black, and painted her face. Then she put on a
gorgeous robe of lilac satin lined with blue, and a yellow petticoat trimmed
with violet ribbons, and because she had heard that queens always rode into
their new dominions, she ordered a horse to be made ready for her to ride.
While
Graciosa was waiting until the King should be ready to set out, she went down
all alone through the garden into a little wood, where she sat down upon a
mossy bank and began to think. And her thoughts were so doleful that very soon
she began to cry, and she cried, and cried, and forgot all about going back to
the palace, until she suddenly saw a handsome page standing before her. He was
dressed in green, and the cap which he held in his hand was adorned with white
plumes. When Graciosa looked at him he went down on one knee, and said to her:
`Princess,
the King awaits you.'
The
Princess was surprised, and, if the truth must be told, very much delighted at
the appearance of this charming page, whom she could not remember to have seen
before. Thinking he might belong to the household of the Duchess, she said:
`How
long have you been one of the King's pages?'
`I
am not in the service of the King, madam,' answered he, `but in yours.'
`In
mine?' said the Princess with great surprise. `Then how is it that I have never
seen you before?'
`Ah,
Princess!' said he, `I have never before dared to present myself to you, but
now the King's marriage threatens you with so many dangers that I have resolved
to tell you at once how much I love you already, and I trust that in time I may
win your regard. I am Prince Percinet, of whose riches you may have heard, and
whose fairy gift will, I hope, be of use to you in all your difficulties, if
you will permit me to accompany you under this disguise.'
`Ah,
Percinet!' cried the Princess, `is it really you? I have so often heard of you
and wished to see you. If you will indeed be my friend, I shall not be afraid
of that wicked old Duchess any more.'
So
they went back to the palace together, and there Graciosa found a beautiful
horse which Percinet had brought for her to ride. As it was very spirited he
led it by the bridle, and this arrangement enabled him to turn and look at the
Princess often, which he did not fail to do. Indeed, she was so pretty that it
was a real pleasure to look at her. When the horse which the Duchess was to
ride appeared beside Graciosa's, it looked no better than an old cart horse,
and as to their trappings, there was simply no comparison between them, as the
Princess's saddle and bridle were one glittering mass of diamonds. The King had
so many other things to think of that he did not notice this, but all his
courtiers were entirely taken up with admiring the Princess and her charming
Page in green, who was more handsome and distinguished-looking than all the
rest of the court put together.
When
they met the Duchess Grumbly she was seated in an open carriage trying in vain
to look dignified. The King and the Princess saluted her, and her horse was
brought forward for her to mount. But when she saw Graciosa's she cried
angrily:
`If
that child is to have a better horse than mine, I will go back to my own castle
this very minute. What is the good of being a Queen if one is to be slighted
like this?'
Upon
this the King commanded Graciosa to dismount and to beg the Duchess to honour
her by mounting her horse. The Princess obeyed in silence, and the Duchess,
without looking at her or thanking her, scrambled up upon the beautiful horse,
where she sat looking like a bundle of clothes, and eight officers had to hold
her up for fear she should fall off.
Even
then she was not satisfied, and was still grumbling and muttering, so they asked
her what was the matter.
`I
wish that Page in green to come and lead the horse, as he did when Graciosa
rode it,' said she very sharply.
And
the King ordered the Page to come and lead the Queen's horse. Percinet and the
Princess looked at one another, but said never a word, and then he did as the
King commanded, and the procession started in great pomp. The Duchess was
greatly elated, and as she sat there in state would not have wished to change
places even with Graciosa. But at the moment when it was least expected the
beautiful horse began to plunge and rear and kick, and finally to run away at
such a pace that it was impossible to stop him.
At
first the Duchess clung to the saddle, but she was very soon thrown off and
fell in a heap among the stones and thorns, and there they found her, shaken to
a jelly, and collected what was left of her as if she had been a broken glass.
Her bonnet was here and her shoes there, her face was scratched, and her fine
clothes were covered with mud. Never was a bride seen in such a dismal plight.
They carried her back to the palace and put her to bed, but as soon as she
recovered enough to be able to speak, she began to scold and rage, and declared
that the whole affair was Graciosa's fault, that she had contrived it on
purpose to try and get rid of her, and that if the King would not have her
punished, she would go back to her castle and enjoy her riches by herself.
At
this the King was terribly frightened, for he did not at all want to lose all
those barrels of gold and jewels. So he hastened to appease the Duchess, and
told her she might punish Graciosa in any way she pleased.
Thereupon
she sent for Graciosa, who turned pale and trembled at the summons, for she
guessed that it promised nothing agreeable for her. She looked all about for
Percinet, but he was nowhere to be seen; so she had no choice but to go to the
Duchess Grumbly's room. She had hardly got inside the door when she was seized
by four waiting women, who looked so tall and strong and cruel that the
Princess shuddered at the sight of them, and still more when she saw them
arming themselves with great bundles of rods, and heard the Duchess call out to
them from her bed to beat the Princess without mercy. Poor Graciosa wished
miserably that Percinet could only know what was happening and come to rescue
her. But no sooner did they begin to beat her than she found, to her great
relief, that the rods had changed to bundles of peacock's feathers, and though
the Duchess's women went on till they were so tired that they could no longer
raise their arms from their sides, yet she was not hurt in the least. However,
the Duchess thought she must be black and blue after such a beating; so
Graciosa, when she was released, pretended to feel very bad, and went away into
her own room, where she told her nurse all that had happened, and then the
nurse left her, and when the Princess turned round there stood Percinet beside
her. She thanked him gratefully for helping her so cleverly, and they laughed
and were very merry over the way they had taken in the Duchess and her
waiting-maids; but Percinet advised her still to pretend to be ill for a few
days, and after promising to come to her aid whenever she needed him, he
disappeared as suddenly as he had come.
The
Duchess was so delighted at the idea that Graciosa was really ill, that she
herself recovered twice as fast as she would have done otherwise, and the
wedding was held with great magnificence. Now as the King knew that, above all
other things, the Queen loved to be told that she was beautiful, he ordered
that her portrait should be painted, and that a tournament should be held, at
which all the bravest knights of his court should maintain against all comers
that Grumbly was the most beautiful princess in the world.
Numbers
of knights came from far and wide to accept the challenge, and the hideous
Queen sat in great state in a balcony hung with cloth of gold to watch the
contests, and Graciosa had to stand up behind her, where her loveliness was so
conspicuous that the combatants could not keep their eyes off her. But the
Queen was so vain that she thought all their admiring glances were for herself,
especially as, in spite of the badness of their cause, the King's knights were
so brave that they were the victors in every combat.
However,
when nearly all the strangers had been defeated, a young unknown knight
presented himself. He carried a portrait, enclosed in a bow encrusted with
diamonds, and he declared himself willing to maintain against them all that the
Queen was the ugliest creature in the world, and that the Princess whose
portrait he carried was the most beautiful.
So
one by one the knights came out against him, and one by one he vanquished them
all, and then he opened the box, and said that, to console them, he would show
them the portrait of his Queen of Beauty, and when he did so everyone
recognised the Princess Graciosa. The unknown knight then saluted her
gracefully and retired, without telling his name to anybody. But Graciosa had
no difficulty in guessing that it was Percinet.
As
to the Queen, she was so furiously angry that she could hardly speak; but she
soon recovered her voice, and overwhelmed Graciosa with a torrent of
reproaches.
`What!'
she said, `do you dare to dispute with me for the prize of beauty, and expect
me to endure this insult to my knights? But I will not bear it, proud Princess.
I will have my revenge.'
`I
assure you, Madam,' said the Princess, `that I had nothing to do with it and am
quite willing that you shall be declared Queen of Beauty
`Ah!
you are pleased to jest, popinjay!' said the Queen, `but it will be my turn
soon!'
The
King was speedily told what had happened, and how the Princess was in terror of
the angry Queen, but he only said: `The Queen must do as she pleases. Graciosa
belongs to her!'
The
wicked Queen waited impatiently until night fell, and then she ordered her
carriage to be brought. Graciosa, much against her will, was forced into it,
and away they drove, and never stopped until they reached a great forest, a
hundred leagues from the palace. This forest was so gloomy, and so full of
lions, tigers, bears and wolves, that nobody dared pass through it even by
daylight, and here they set down the unhappy Princess in the middle of the black
night, and left her in spite of all her tears and entreaties. The Princess
stood quite still at first from sheer bewilderment, but when the last sound of
the retreating carriages died away in the distance she began to run aimlessly
hither and thither, sometimes knocking herself against a tree, sometimes
tripping over a stone, fearing every minute that she would be eaten up by the
lions. Presently she was too tired to advance another step, so she threw
herself down upon the ground and cried miserably:
`Oh,
Percinet! where are you? Have you forgotten me altogether?'
She
had hardly spoken when all the forest was lighted up with a sudden glow. Every
tree seemed to be sending out a soft radiance, which was clearer than moonlight
and softer than daylight, and at the end of a long avenue of trees opposite to
her the Princess saw a palace of clear crystal which blazed like the sun. At
that moment a slight sound behind her made her start round, and there stood
Percinet himself.
`Did
I frighten you, my Princess?' said he. `I come to bid you welcome to our fairy
palace, in the name of the Queen, my mother, who is prepared to love you as
much as I do.' The Princess joyfully mounted with him into a little sledge,
drawn by two stags, which bounded off and drew them swiftly to the wonderful
palace, where the Queen received her with the greatest kindness, and a splendid
banquet was served at once. Graciosa was so happy to have found Percinet, and
to have escaped from the gloomy forest and all its terrors, that she was very
hungry and very merry, and they were a gay party. After supper they went into
another lovely room, where the crystal walls were covered with pictures, and
the Princess saw with great surprise that her own history was repre-sented,
even down to the moment when Percinet found her in the forest.
`Your
painters must indeed be diligent,' she said, pointing out the last picture to
the Prince.
`They
are obliged to be, for I will not have anything forgotten that happens to you,'
he answered.
When
the Princess grew sleepy, twenty-four charming maidens put her to bed in the
prettiest room she had ever seen, and then sang to her so sweetly that
Graciosa's dreams were all of mermaids, and cool sea waves, and caverns, in
which she wandered with Percinet; but when she woke up again her first thought
was that, delightful as this fairy palace seemed to her, yet she could not stay
in it, but must go back to her father. When she had been dressed by the
four-and-twenty maidens in a charming robe which the Queen had sent for her,
and in which she looked prettier than ever, Prince Percinet came to see her,
and was bitterly disappointed when she told him what she had been thinking. He
begged her to consider again how unhappy the wicked Queen would make her, and
how, if she would but marry him, all the fairy palace would be hers, and his
one thought would be to please her. But, in spite of everything he could say,
the Princess was quite determined to go back, though he at last persuaded her
to stay eight days, which were so full of pleasure and amusement that they
passed like a few hours. On the last day, Graciosa, who had often felt anxious
to know what was going on in her father's palace, said to Percinet that she was
sure that he could find out for her, if he would, what reason the Queen had
given her father for her sudden disappearance. Percinet at first offered to
send his courier to find out, but the Princess said:
`Oh!
isn't there a quicker way of knowing than that?'
`Very
well,' said Percinet, `you shall see for yourself.'
So
up they went together to the top of a very high tower, which, like the rest of
the castle, was built entirely of rock-crystal.
There
the Prince held Graciosa's hand in his, and made her put the tip of her little
finger into her mouth, and look towards the town, and immediately she saw the
wicked Queen go to the King, and heard her say to him, `That miserable Princess
is dead, and no great loss either. I have ordered that she shall be buried at
once.'
And
then the Princess saw how she dressed up a log of wood and had it buried, and
how the old King cried, and all the people murmured that the Queen had killed
Graciosa with her cruelties, and that she ought to have her head cut off. When
the Princess saw that the King was so sorry for her pretended death that he
could neither eat nor drink, she cried:
`Ah,
Percinet! take me back quickly if you love me.'
And
so, though he did not want to at all, he was obliged to promise that he would
let her go.
`You
may not regret me, Princess,' he said sadly, `for I fear that you do not love
me well enough; but I foresee that you will more than once regret that you left
this fairy palace where we have been so happy.'
But,
in spite of all he could say, she bade farewell to the Queen, his mother, and
prepared to set out; so Percinet, very unwillingly, brought the little sledge
with the stags and she mounted beside him. But they had hardly gone twenty
yards when a tremendous noise behind her made Graciosa look back, and she saw
the palace of crystal fly into a million splinters, like the spray of a
fountain, and vanish.
`Oh,
Percinet!' she cried, `what has happened? The palace is gone.'
`Yes,'
he answered, `my palace is a thing of the past; you will see it again, but not
until after you have been buried.'
`Now
you are angry with me,' said Graciosa in her most coaxing voice, `though after
all I am more to be pitied than you are.'
When
they got near the palace the Prince made the sledge and themselves invisible,
so the Princess got in unobserved, and ran up to the great hall where the King
was sitting all by himself. At first he was very much startled by Graciosa's
sudden appearance, but she told him how the Queen had left her out in the
forest, and how she had caused a log of wood to be buried. The King, who did
not know what to think, sent quickly and had it dug up, and sure enough it was
as the Princess had said. Then he caressed Graciosa, and made her sit down to
supper with him, and they were as happy as possible. But someone had by this
time told the wicked Queen that Graciosa had come back, and was at supper with
the King, and in she flew in a terrible fury. The poor old King quite trembled
before her, and when she declared that Graciosa was not the Princess at all,
but a wicked impostor, and that if the King did not give her up at once she
would go back to her own castle and never see him again, he had not a word to
say, and really seemed to believe that it was not Graciosa after all. So the
Queen in great triumph sent for her waiting women, who dragged the unhappy
Princess away and shut her up in a garret; they took away all her jewels and
her pretty dress, and gave her a rough cotton frock, wooden shoes, and a little
cloth cap. There was some straw in a corner, which was all she had for a bed,
and they gave her a very little bit of black bread to eat. In this miserable
plight Graciosa did indeed regret the fairy palace, and she would have called
Percinet to her aid, only she felt sure he was still vexed with her for leaving
him, and thought that she could not expect him to come.
Meanwhile
the Queen had sent for an old Fairy, as malicious as herself, and said to her:
`You
must find me some task for this fine Princess which she cannot possibly do, for
I mean to punish her, and if she does not do what I order, she will not be able
to say that I am unjust.' So the old Fairy said she would think it over, and
come again the next day. When she returned she brought with her a skein of
thread, three times as big as herself; it was so fine that a breath of air
would break it, and so tangled that it was impossible to see the beginning or
the end of it.
The
Queen sent for Graciosa, and said to her:
`Do
you see this skein? Set your clumsy fingers to work upon it, for I must have it
disentangled by sunset, and if you break a single thread it will be the worse
for you.' So saying she left her, locking the door behind her with three keys.
The
Princess stood dismayed at the sight of the terrible skein. If she did but turn
it over to see where to begin, she broke a thousand threads, and not one could
she disentangle. At last she threw it into the middle of the floor, crying:
`Oh,
Percinet! this fatal skein will be the death of me if you will not forgive me
and help me once more.'
And
immediately in came Percinet as easily as if he had all the keys in his own
possession.
`Here
I am, Princess, as much as ever at your service,' said he, `though really you
are not very kind to me.'
Then
he just stroked the skein with his wand, and all the broken threads joined
themselves together, and the whole skein wound itself smoothly off in the most
surprising manner, and the Prince, turning to Graciosa, asked if there was
nothing else that she wished him to do for her, and if the time would never
come when she would wish for him for his own sake.
`Don't
be vexed with me, Percinet,' she said. `I am unhappy enough without that.'
`But
why should you be unhappy, my Princess?' cried he. `Only come with me and we
shall be as happy as the day is long together.'
`But
suppose you get tired of me?' said Graciosa.
The
Prince was so grieved at this want of confidence that he left her without
another word.
The
wicked Queen was in such a hurry to punish Graciosa that she thought the sun
would never set; and indeed it was before the appointed time that she came with
her four Fairies, and as she fitted the three keys into the locks she said:
`I'll
venture to say that the idle minx has not done anything at all--she prefers to
sit with her hands before her to keep them white.'
But,
as soon as she entered, Graciosa presented her with the ball of thread in
perfect order, so that she had no fault to find, and could only pretend to
discover that it was soiled, for which imaginary fault she gave Graciosa a blow
on each cheek, that made her white and pink skin turn green and yellow. And
then she sent her back to be locked into the garret once more.
Then
the Queen sent for the Fairy again and scolded her furiously. `Don't make such
a mistake again; find me something that it will be quite impossible for her to
do,' she said.
So
the next day the Fairy appeared with a huge barrel full of the feathers of all
sorts of birds. There were nightingales, canaries, goldfinches, linnets,
tomtits, parrots, owls, sparrows, doves, ostriches, bustards, peacocks, larks,
partridges, and everything else that you can think of. These feathers were all
mixed up in such confusion that the birds themselves could not have chosen out
their own. `Here,' said the Fairy, `is a little task which it will take all
your prisoner's skill and patience to accomplish. Tell her to pick out and lay
in a separate heap the feathers of each bird. She would need to be a fairy to
do it.'
The
Queen was more than delighted at the thought of the despair this task would
cause the Princess. She sent for her, and with the same threats as before
locked her up with the three keys, ordering that all the feathers should be
sorted by sunset. Graciosa set to work at once, but before she had taken out a
dozen feathers she found that it was perfectly impossible to know one from
another.
`Ah!
well,' she sighed, `the Queen wishes to kill me, and if I must die I must. I
cannot ask Percinet to help me again, for if he really loved me he would not
wait till I called him, he would come without that.'
`I
am here, my Graciosa,' cried Percinet, springing out of the barrel where he had
been hiding. `How can you still doubt that I love you with all my heart?'
Then
he gave three strokes of his wand upon the barrel, and all the feathers flew
out in a cloud and settled down in neat little separate heaps all round the
room.
`What
should I do without you, Percinet?' said Graciosa gratefully. But still she
could not quite make up her mind to go with him and leave her father's kingdom
for ever; so she begged him to give her more time to think of it, and he had to
go away disappointed once more.
When
the wicked Queen came at sunset she was amazed and infuriated to find the task
done. However, she complained that the heaps of feathers were badly arranged,
and for that the Princess was beaten and sent back to her garret. Then the
Queen sent for the Fairy once more, and scolded her until she was fairly
terrified, and promised to go home and think of another task for Graciosa,
worse than either of the others.
At
the end of three days she came again, bringing with her a box.
`Tell
your slave,' said he, `to carry this wherever you please, but on no account to
open it. She will not be able to help doing so, and then you will be quite
satisfied with the result.' So the Queen came to Graciosa, and said:
`Carry
this box to my castle, and place it upon the table in my own room. But I forbid
you on pain of death to look at what it contains.'
Graciosa
set out, wearing her little cap and wooden shoes and the old cotton frock, but
even in this disguise she was so beautiful that all the passers-by wondered who
she could be. She had not gone far before the heat of the sun and the weight of
the box tired her so much that she sat down to rest in the shade of a little
wood which lay on one side of a green meadow. She was carefully holding the box
upon her lap when she suddenly felt the greatest desire to open it,
`What
could possibly happen if I did?' she said to herself. `I should not take
anything out. I should only just see what was there.'
And
without farther hesitation she lifted the cover.
Instantly
out came swarms of little men and women, no taller than her finger, and
scattered themselves all over the meadow, singing and dancing, and playing the
merriest games, so that at first Graciosa was delighted and watched them with
much amusement. But presently, when she was rested and wished to go on her way,
she found that, do what she would, she could not get them back into their box.
If she chased them in the meadow they fled into the wood, and if she pursued
them into the wood they dodged round trees and behind sprigs of moss, and with
peals of elfin laughter scampered back again into the meadow.
At
last, weary and terrified, she sat down and cried.
`It
is my own fault,' she said sadly. `Percinet, if you can still care for such an
imprudent Princess, do come and help me once more.'
Immediately
Percinet stood before her.
`Ah,
Princess!' he said, `but for the wicked Queen I fear you would never think of
me at all.'
`Indeed
I should,' said Graciosa; `I am not so ungrateful as you think. Only wait a
little and I believe I shall love you quite dearly.'
Percinet
was pleased at this, and with one stroke of his wand compelled all the wilful
little people to come back to their places in the box, and then rendering the
Princess invisible he took her with him in his chariot to the castle.
When
the Princess presented herself at the door, and said that the Queen had ordered
her to place the box in her own room, the governor laughed heartily at the
idea.
`No,
no, my little shepherdess,' said he, `that is not the place for you. No wooden
shoes have ever been over that floor yet.'
Then
Graciosa begged him to give her a written message telling the Queen that he had
refused to admit her. This he did, and she went back to Percinet, who was
waiting for her, and they set out together for the palace. You may imagine that
they did not go the shortest way, but the Princess did not find it too long,
and before they parted she had promised that if the Queen was still cruel to
her, and tried again to play her any spiteful trick, she would leave her and
come to Percinet for ever.
When
the Queen saw her returning she fell upon the Fairy, whom she had kept with
her, and pulled her hair, and scratched her face, and would really have killed
her if a Fairy could be killed. And when the Princess presented the letter and
the box she threw them both upon the fire without opening them, and looked very
much as if she would like to throw the Princess after them. However, what she
really did do was to have a great hole as deep as a well dug in her garden, and
the top of it covered with a flat stone. Then she went and walked near it, and
said to Graciosa and all her ladies who were with her:
`I
am told that a great treasure lies under that stone; let us see if we can lift
it.'
So
they all began to push and pull at it, and Graciosa among the others, which was
just what the Queen wanted; for as soon as the stone was lifted high enough,
she gave the Princess a push which sent her down to the bottom of the well, and
then the stone was let fall again, and there she was a prisoner. Graciosa felt
that now indeed she was hopelessly lost, surely not even Percinet could find
her in the heart of the earth.
`This
is like being buried alive,' she said with a shudder. `Oh, Percinet! if you
only knew how I am suffering for my want of trust in you! But how could I be
sure that you would not be like other men and tire of me from the moment you
were sure I loved you?'
As
she spoke she suddenly saw a little door open, and the sunshine blazed into the
dismal well. Graciosa did not hesitate an instant, but passed through into a
charming garden. Flowers and fruit grew on every side, fountains plashed, and
birds sang in the branches overhead, and when she reached a great avenue of
trees and looked up to see where it would lead her, she found herself close to
the palace of crystal. Yes! there was no mistaking it, and the Queen and
Percinet were coming to meet her. `Ah, Princess!' said the Queen, `don't keep
this poor Percinet in suspense any longer. You little guess the anxiety he has
suffered while you were in the power of that miserable Queen.'
The
Princess kissed her gratefully, and promised to do as she wished in everything,
and holding out her hand to Percinet, with a smile, she said:
`Do
you remember telling me that I should not see your palace again until I had
been buried? I wonder if you guessed then that, when that happened, I should
tell you that I love you with all my heart, and will marry you whenever you
like?'
Prince
Percinet joyfully took the hand that was given him, and, for fear the Princess
should change her mind, the wedding was held at once with the greatest
splendour, and Graciosa and Percinet lived happily ever after.[11]
[11]
Gracieuse et Percinet. Mdme. d'Aulnoy.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f15]
THE
THREE PRINCESSES OF WHITELAND
THERE
was once upon a time a fisherman, who lived hard by a palace and fished for the
King's table. One day he was out fishing, but caught nothing at all. Let him do
what he might with rod and line, there was never even so much as a sprat on his
hook; but when the day was well nigh over, a head rose up out of the water, and
said: `If you will give me what your wife shows you when you go home, you shall
catch fish enough.'
So
the man said `Yes' in a moment, and then he caught fish in plenty; but when he
got home at night, and his wife showed him a baby which had just been born, and
fell a-weeping and wailing when he told her of the promise which he had given,
he was very unhappy.
All
this was soon told to the King up at the palace, and when he heard what sorrow
the woman was in, and the reason of it, he said that he himself would take the
child and see if he could not save it. The baby was a boy, and the King took
him at once and brought him up as his own son until the lad grew up. Then one day
he begged to have leave to go out with his father to fish; he had a strong
desire to do this, he said. The King was very unwilling to permit it, but at
last the lad got leave. He stayed with his father, and all went prosperously
and well with them the whole day, until they came back to land in the evening.
Then the lad found that he had lost his pocket-handkerchief, and would go out
in the boat after it; but no sooner had he got into the boat than it began to
move off with him so quickly that the water foamed all round about, and all
that the lad did to keep the boat back with the oars was done to no purpose,
for it went on and on the whole night through, and at last he came to a white
strand that lay far, far away. There he landed, and when he had walked on for
some distance he met an old man with a long white beard.
`What
is the name of this country?' said the youth.
`Whiteland,'
answered the man, and then he begged the youth to tell him whence he came and
what he was going to do, and the youth did so.
`Well,
then,' said the man, `if you walk on farther along the seashore here, you will
come to three princesses who are standing in the earth so that their heads
alone are out of it. Then the first of them will call you--she is the
eldest--and will beg you very prettily to come to her and help her, and the
second will do the same, but you must not go near either of them. Hurry past,
as if you neither saw nor heard them; but you shall go to the third and do what
she bids you; it will bring you good fortune.'
When
the youth came to the first princess, she called to him and begged him to come
to her very prettily, but he walked on as if he did not even see her, and he
passed by the second in the same way, but he went up to the third.
`If
thou wilt do what I tell thee, thou shalt choose among us three,' said the
Princess.
So
the lad said that he was most willing, and she told him that three Trolls had
planted them all three there in the earth, but that formerly they had dwelt in
the castle which he could see at some distance in the wood.
`Now,'
she said, `thou shalt go into the castle, and let the Trolls beat thee one
night for each of us, and if thou canst but endure that, thou wilt set us
free.'
`Yes,'
answered the lad, `I will certainly try to do so.'
`When
thou goest in,' continued the Princess, `two lions will stand by the doorway,
but if thou only goest straight between them they will do thee no harm; go
straight forward into a small dark chamber; there thou shalt lie down. Then the
Troll will come and beat thee, but thou shalt take the flask which is hanging
on the wall, and anoint thyself wheresoever he has wounded thee, after which
thou shalt be as well as before. Then lay hold of the sword which is hanging by
the side of the flask, and smite the Troll dead.'
So
he did what the Princess had told him. He walked straight in between the lions
just as if he did not see them, and then into the small chamber, and lay down
on the bed.
The
first night a Troll came with three heads and three rods, and beat the lad most
unmercifully; but he held out until the Troll was done with him, and then he
took the flask and rubbed himself. Having done this, he grasped the sword and
smote the Troll dead.
In
the morning when he went to the sea-shore the Princesses were out of the earth
as far as their waists.
The
next night everything happened in the same way, but the Troll who came then had
six heads and six rods, and he beat him much more severely than the first had
done but when the lad went out of doors next morning, the Princesses were out
of the earth as far as their knees.
On
the third night a Troll came who had nine heads and nine rods, and he struck
the lad and flogged him so long, that at last he swooned away; so the Troll
took him up and flung him against the wall, and this made the flask of ointment
fall down, and it splashed all over him, and he became as strong as ever again.
Then,
without loss of time, he grasped the sword and struck the Troll dead, and in
the morning when he went out of the castle the Princesses were standing there
entirely out of the earth. So he took the youngest for his Queen, and lived
with her very happily for a long time.
At
last, however, he took a fancy to go home for a short time to see his parents.
His Queen did not like this, but when his longing grew so great that he told
her he must and would go, she said to him:
`One
thing shalt thou promise me, and that is, to do what thy father bids thee, but
not what thy mother bids thee,' and this he promised.
So
she gave him a ring, which enabled him who wore it to obtain two wishes.
He
wished himself at home, and instantly found himself there; but his parents were
so amazed at the splendour of his apparel that their wonder never ceased.
When
he had been at home for some days his mother wanted him to go up to the palace,
to show the King what a great man he had become.
The
father said, `No; he must not do that, for if he does we shall have no more
delight in him this time; `but he spoke in vain, for the mother begged and
prayed until at last he went.
When
he arrived there he was more splendid, both in raiment and in all else, than
the other King, who did not like it, and said:
`Well,
you can see what kind of Queen mine is, but I can't see yours. I do not believe
you have such a pretty Queen as I have.'
`Would
to heaven she were standing here, and then you would be able to see!' said the
young King, and in an instant she was standing there.
But
she was very sorrowful, and said to him, `Why didst thou not remember my words,
and listen only to what thy father said? Now must I go home again at once, and
thou hast wasted both thy wishes.'
Then
she tied a ring in his hair, which had her name upon it, and wished herself at
home again.
And
now the young King was deeply afflicted, and day out and day in went about
thinking of naught else but how to get back again to his Queen. `I will try to
see if there is any place where I can learn how to find Whiteland,' he thought,
and journeyed forth out into the world.
When
he had gone some distance he came to a mountain, where he met a man who was
Lord over all the beasts in the forest --for they all came to him when he blew
a horn which he had. So the King asked where Whiteland was.
`I
do not know that,' he answered, `but I will ask my beasts.' Then he blew his
horn and inquired whether any of them knew where Whiteland lay, but there was
not one who knew that.
So
the man gave him a pair of snow shoes. `When you have these on,' he said, `you
will come to my brother, who lives hundreds of miles from here; he is Lord over
all the birds in the air--ask him. When you have got there, just turn the shoes
so that the toes point this way, and then they will come home again of their
own accord.'
When
the King arrived there he turned the shoes as the Lord of the beasts had bidden
him, and they went back.
And
now he once more asked after Whiteland, and the man summoned all the birds
together, and inquired if any of them knew where Whiteland lay. No, none knew
this. Long after the others there came an old eagle. He had been absent ten
whole years, but he too knew no more than the rest.
`Well,
well,' said the man, `then you shall have the loan of a pair of snow shoes of
mine. If you wear them you will get to my brother, who lives hundreds of miles
from here. He is Lord of all the fish in the sea--you can ask him. But do not
forget to turn the shoes round.'
The
King thanked him, put on the shoes, and when he had got to him who was Lord of
all the fish in the sea, he turned the snow shoes round, and back they went
just as the others had gone, and he asked once more where Whiteland was.
The
man called the fish together with his horn, but none of them knew anything
about it. At last came an old, old pike, which he had great difficulty in
bringing home to him.
When
he asked the pike, it said, `Yes, Whiteland is well known to me, for I have
been cook there these ten years. To-morrow morning I have to go back there, for
now the Queen, whose King is staying away, is to marry some one else.'
`If
that be the case I will give you a piece of advice,' said the man. `Not far
from here on a moor stand three brothers, who have stood there a hundred years
fighting for a hat, a cloak, and a pair of boots; if any one has these three
things he can make himself invisible, and if he desires to go to any place, he
has but to wish and he is there. You may tell them that you have a desire to
try these things, and then you will be able to decide which of the men is to
have them.'
So
the King thanked him and went, and did what he had said.
`What
is this that you are standing fighting about for ever and ever?' said he to the
brothers; `let me make a trial of these things, and then I will judge between
you.'
They
willingly consented to this, but when he had got the hat, the cloak, and the
boots, he said, `Next time we meet you shall have my decision,' and hereupon he
wished himself away.
While
he was going quickly through the air he fell in with the North Wind.
`And
where may you be going?' said the North Wind.
`To
Whiteland,' said the King, and then he related what had happened to him.
`Well,'
said the North Wind, `you can easily go a little quicker than I can, for I have
to puff and blow into every corner; but when you get there, place yourself on
the stairs by the side of the door, and then I will come blustering in as if I
wanted to blow down the whole castle, and when the Prince who is to have your
Queen comes out to see what is astir, just take him by the throat and fling him
out, and then I will try to carry him away from court.'
As
the North Wind had said, so did the King. He stood on the stairs, and when the
North Wind came howling and roaring, and caught the roof and walls of the
castle till they shook again, the Prince went out to see what was the matter;
but as soon as he came the King took him by the neck and flung him out, and
then the North Wind laid hold of him and carried him off. And when he was rid
of him the King went into the castle. At first the Queen did not know him,
because he had grown so thin and pale from having travelled so long and so
sorrowfully; but when she saw her ring she was heartily glad, and then the
rightful wedding was held, and held in such a way that it was talked about far
and wide.[12]
[12]
From J. Moe.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f16]
THE
VOICE OF DEATH
ONCE
upon a time there lived a man whose one wish and prayer was to get rich. Day
and night he thought of nothing else, and at last his prayers were granted, and
he became very wealthy. Now being so rich, and having so much to lose, he felt
that it would be a terrible thing to die and leave all his possessions behind;
so he made up his mind to set out in search of a land where there was no death.
He got ready for his journey, took leave of his wife, and started. Whenever he
came to a new country the first question that he asked was whether people died
in that land, and when he heard that they did, he set out again on his quest.
At last he reached a country where he was told that the people did not even
know the meaning of the word death. Our traveller was delighted when he heard
this, and said:
`But
surely there are great numbers of people in your land, if no one ever dies?'
`No,'
they replied, `there are not great numbers, for you see from time to time a
voice is heard calling first one and then another, and whoever hears that voice
gets up and goes away, and never comes back.'
`And
do they see the person who calls them,' he asked, `or do they only hear his
voice?'
`They
both see and hear him,' was the answer.
Well,
the man was amazed when he heard that the people were stupid enough to follow
the voice, though they knew that if they went when it called them they would
never return. And he went back to his own home and got all his possessions
together, and, taking his wife and family, he set out resolved to go and live
in that country where the people did not die, but where instead they heard a
voice calling them, which they followed into a land from which they never
returned. For he had made up his own mind that when he or any of his family
heard that voice they would pay no heed to it, however loudly it called.
After
he had settled down in his new home, and had got everything in order about him,
he warned his wife and family that, unless they wanted to die, they must on no
account listen to a voice which they might some day hear calling them.
For
some years everything went well with them, and they lived happily in their new
home. But one day, while they were all sit-ting together round the table, his
wife suddenly started up, exclaiming in a loud voice:
`I
am coming! I am coming!'
And
she began to look round the room for her fur coat, but her husband jumped up,
and taking firm hold of her by the hand, held her fast, and reproached her,
saying:
`Don't
you remember what I told you? Stay where you are unless you wish to die.'
`But
don't you hear that voice calling me?' she answered. `I am merely going to see
why I am wanted. I shall come back directly.'
So
she fought and struggled to get away from her husband, and to go where the
voice summoned. But he would not let her go, and had all the doors of the house
shut and bolted. When she saw that he had done this, she said:
`Very
well, dear husband, I shall do what you wish, and remain where I am.'
So
her husband believed that it was all right, and that she had thought better of
it, and had got over her mad impulse to obey the voice. But a few minutes later
she made a sudden dash for one of the doors, opened it and darted out, followed
by her husband. He caught her by the fur coat, and begged and implored her not
to go, for if she did she would certainly never return. She said nothing, but
let her arms fall backwards, and suddenly bending herself forward, she slipped
out of the coat, leaving it in her husband's hands. He, poor man, seemed turned
to stone as he gazed after her hurrying away from him, and calling at the top
of her voice, as she ran:
`I
am coming! I am coming!'
When
she was quite out of sight her husband recovered his wits and went back into
his house, murmuring:
`If
she is so foolish as to wish to die, I can't help it. I warned and implored her
to pay no heed to that voice, however loudly it might call.'
Well,
days and weeks and months and years passed, and nothing happened to disturb the
peace of the household. But one day the man was at the barber's as usual, being
shaved. The shop was full of people, and his chin had just been covered with a
lather of soap, when, suddenly starting up from the chair, he called out in a
loud voice:
`I
won't come, do you hear? I won't come!'
The
barber and the other people in the shop listened to him with amazement. But
again looking towards the door, he exclaimed:
`I
tell you, once and for all, I do not mean to come, so go away.'
And
a few minutes later he called out again:
`Go
away, I tell you, or it will be the worse for you. You may call as much as you
like but you will never get me to come.'
And
he got so angry that you might have thought that some one was actually standing
at the door, tormenting him. At last he jumped up, and caught the razor out of
the barber's hand, exclaiming:
`Give
me that razor, and I'll teach him to let people alone for the future.'
And
he rushed out of the house as if he were running after some one, whom no one
else saw. The barber, determined not to lose his razor, pursued the man, and
they both continued running at full speed till they had got well out of the
town, when all of a sudden the man fell head foremost down a precipice, and
never was seen again. So he too, like the others, had been forced against his
will to follow the voice that called him.
The
barber, who went home whistling and congratulating himself on the escape he had
made, described what had happened, and it was noised abroad in the country that
the people who had gone away, and had never returned, had all fallen into that
pit; for till then they had never known what had happened to those who had
heard the voice and obeyed its call.
But
when crowds of people went out from the town to examine the ill-fated pit that
had swallowed up such numbers, and yet never seemed to be full, they could
discover nothing. All that they could see was a vast plain, that looked as if
it had been there since the beginning of the world. And from that time the
people of the country began to die like ordinary mortals all the world
over.[13]
[13]
Roumanian Tales from the German of Mite Thremnitz.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f17]
THE
SIX SILLIES
ONCE
upon a time there was a young girl who reached the age of thirty-seven without
ever having had a lover, for she was so foolish that no one wanted to marry
her.
One
day, however, a young man arrived to pay his addresses to her, and her mother,
beaming with joy, sent her daughter down to the cellar to draw a jug of beer.
As
the girl never came back the mother went down to see what had become of her,
and found her sitting on the stairs, her head in her hands, while by her side
the beer was running all over the floor, as she had forgotten to close the tap.
`What are you doing there?' asked the mother.
`I
was thinking what I shall call my first child after I am married to that young
man. All the names in the calendar are taken already.'
The
mother sat down on the staircase beside her daughter and said, `I will think
about it with you, my dear.'
The
father who had stayed upstairs with the young man was surprised that neither
his wife nor his daughter came back, and in his turn went down to look for
them. He found them both sitting on the stairs, while beside them the beer was
running all over the ground from the tap, which was wide open.
`What
are you doing there? The beer is running all over the cellar.'
`We
were thinking what we should call the children that our daughter will have when
she marries that young man. All the names in the calendar are taken already.'
`Well,'
said the father, `I will think about it with you.'
As
neither mother nor daughter nor father came upstairs again, the lover grew
impatient, and went down into the cellar to see what they could all be doing.
He found them all three sitting on the stairs, while beside them the beer was
running all over the ground from the tap, which was wide open.
`What
in the world are you all doing that you don't come upstairs, and that you let
the beer run all over the cellar?'
`Yes,
I know, my boy,' said the father, `but if you marry our daughter what shall you
call your children? All the names in the calendar are taken.'
When
the young man heard this answer he replied:
`Well!
good-bye, I am going away. When I shall have found three people sillier than
you I will come back and marry your daughter.'
So
he continued his journey, and after walking a long way he reached an orchard.
Then he saw some people knocking down walnuts, and trying to throw them into a
cart with a fork.
`What
are you doing there?' he asked.
`We
want to load the cart with our walnuts, but we can't manage to do it.'
The
lover advised them to get a basket and to put the walnuts in it, so as to turn
them into the cart.
`Well,'
he said to himself, `I have already found someone more foolish than those
three.'
So
he went on his way, and by-and-by he came to a wood. There he saw a man who
wanted to give his pig some acorns to eat, and was trying with all his might to
make him climb up the oak-tree.
`What
are you doing, my good man?' asked he.
`I
want to make my pig eat some acorns, and I can't get him to go up the tree.'
`If
you were to climb up and shake down the acorns the pig would pick them up.'
`Oh,
I never thought of that.'
`Here
is the second idiot,' said the lover to himself.
Some
way farther along the road he came upon a man who had never worn any trousers,
and who was trying to put on a pair. So he had fastened them to a tree and was
jumping with all his might up in the air so that he should hit the two legs of
the trousers as he came down.
`It
would be much better if you held them in your hands,' said the young man, `and
then put your legs one after the other in each hole.'
`Dear
me to be sure! You are sharper than I am, for that never occurred to me.'
And
having found three people more foolish than his bride, or her father or her
mother, the lover went back to marry the young lady.
And
in course of time they had a great many children.
Story
from Hainaut. (M. Lemoine. La Tradition. No, 34,)
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f18]
KARI
WOODENGOWN
THERE
was once upon a time a King who had become a widower. His Queen had left one
daughter behind her, and she was so wise and so pretty that it was impossible for
any one to be wiser or prettier. For a long time the King went sorrowing for
his wife, for he had loved her exceedingly; but at last he grew tired of living
alone, and married a Queen who was a widow, and she also had a daughter, who
was just as ill-favoured and wicked as the other was good and beautiful. The
stepmother and her daughter were envious of the King's daughter because she was
so pretty, but so long as the King was at home they dared do her no harm,
because his love for her was so great.
Then
there came a time when he made war on another King and went away to fight, and
then the new Queen thought that she could do what she liked; so she both
hungered and beat the King's daughter and chased her about into every corner.
At last she thought that everything was too good for her, and set her to work
to look after the cattle. So she went about with the cattle, and herded them in
the woods and in the fields. Of food she got little or none, and grew pale and
thin, and was nearly always weeping and sad. Among the herd there was a great
blue bull, which always kept itself very smart and sleek, and often came to the
King's daughter and let her stroke him. So one day, when she was again sitting
crying and sorrowing, the Bull came up to her and asked why she was always so
full of care? She made no answer, but continued to weep.
`Well,'
said the Bull, `I know what it is, though you will not tell me; you are weeping
because the Queen is unkind to you, and because she wants to starve you to
death. But you need be under no concern about food, for in my left ear there
lies a cloth, and if you will but take it and spread it out, you can have as
many dishes as you like.'
So
she did this, and took the cloth and spread it out upon the grass, and then it
was covered with the daintiest dishes that any one could desire, and there was
wine, and mead, and cake. And now she became brisk and well again, and grew so
rosy, and plump, and fair that the Queen and her scraggy daughter turned blue
and white with vexation at it. The Queen could not imagine how her
step-daughter could look so well on such bad food, so she ordered one of her
handmaidens to follow her into the wood and watch her, and see how it was, for
she thought that some of the servants must be giving her food. So the maid
followed her into the wood and watched, and saw how the step-daughter took the
cloth out of the Blue Bull's ear, and spread it out, and how the cloth was then
covered with the most delicate dishes, which the step-daughter ate and regaled
herself with. So the waiting-maid went home and told the Queen.
And
now the King came home, and he had conquered the other King with whom he had
been at war. So there was great gladness in the palace, but no one was more
glad than the King's daughter. The Queen, however, pretended to be ill, and
gave the doctor much money to say that she would never be well again unless she
had some of the flesh of the Blue Bull to eat. Both the King's daughter and the
people in the palace asked the doctor if there were no other means of saving
her, and begged for the Bull's life, for they were all fond of him, and they
all declared that there was no such Bull in the whole country; but it was all
in vain, he was to be killed, and should be killed, and nothing else would serve.
When the King's daughter heard it she was full of sorrow, and went down to the
byre to the Bull. He too was standing there hanging his head, and looking so
downcast that she fell a-weeping over him.
`What
are you weeping for?' said the Bull.
So
she told him that the King had come home again, and that the Queen had
pretended to be ill, and that she had made the doctor say that she could never
be well again unless some of the flesh of the Blue Bull was given her to eat,
and that now he was to be killed. `When once they have taken my life they will
soon kill you also,' said the Bull. `If you are of the same mind with me, we
will take our departure this very night.'
The
King's daughter thought that it was bad to go and leave her father, but that it
was worse still to be in the same house with the Queen, so she promised the
Bull that she would come.
At
night, when all the others had gone to bed, the King's daughter stole softly
down to the byre to the Bull, and he took her on his back and got out of the
courtyard as quickly as he could. So at cock-crow next morning, when the people
came to kill the Bull, he was gone, and when the King got up and asked for his
daughter she was gone too. He sent forth messengers to all parts of the kingdom
to search for them, and published his loss in all the parish churches, but
there was no one who had seen anything of them.
In
the meantime the Bull travelled through many lands with the King's daughter on
his back, and one day they came to a great copper-wood, where the trees, and
the branches, and the leaves, and the flowers, and everything else was of
copper.
But
before they entered the wood the Bull said to the King's daughter:
`When
we enter into this wood, you must take the greatest care not to touch a leaf of
it, or all will be over both with me and with you, for a Troll with three
heads, who is the owner of the wood, lives here.'
So
she said she would be on her guard, and not touch anything. And she was very
careful, and bent herself out of the way of the branches, and put them aside
with her hands; but it was so thickly wooded that it was all but impossible to
get forward, and do what she might, she somehow or other tore off a leaf which
got into her hand.
`Oh!
oh! What have you done now?' said the Bull. `It will now cost us a battle for
life or death; but do be careful to keep the leaf.'
Very
soon afterwards they came to the end of the wood, and the Troll with three
heads came rushing up to them.
`Who
is that who is touching my wood?' said the Troll.
`The
wood is just as much mine as yours!' said the Bull.
`We
shall have a tussle for that!' shrieked the Troll.
`That
may be,' said the Bull.
So
they rushed on each other and fought, and as for the Bull he butted and kicked
with all the strength of his body, but the Troll fought quite as well as he
did, and the whole day went by before the Bull put an end to him, and then he
himself was so full of wounds and so worn out that he was scarcely able to
move. So they had to wait a day, and the Bull told the King's daughter to take
the horn of ointment which hung at the Troll's belt, and rub him with it; then
he was himself again, and the next day they set off once more. And now they
journeyed on for many, many days, and then after a long, long time they came to
a silver wood. The trees, and the boughs, and the leaves, and the flowers, and
everything else was of silver.
Before
the Bull went into the wood, he said to the King's daughter: `When we enter
into this wood you must, for Heaven's sake, be very careful not to touch
anything at all, and not to pluck off even so much as one leaf, or else all
will be over both with you and with me. A Troll with six heads lives here, who
is the owner of the wood, and I do not think I should be able to overcome him.'
`Yes,'
said the King's daughter, `I will take good care not to touch what you do not
wish me to touch.'
But
when they got into the wood it was so crowded, and the trees so close together,
that they could scarcely get forward. She was as careful as she could be, and
bent aside to get out of the way of the branches, and thrust them away from
before her with her hands; but every instant a branch struck against her eyes,
and in spite of all her care, she happened to pull off one leaf.
`Oh!
oh! What have you done now?' said the Bull. It will now cost us a battle for
life or death, for this Troll has six heads and is twice as strong as the
other, but do be careful to keep the leaf.'
Just
as he said this came the Troll. `Who is that who is touching my wood?' he said.
`It
is just as much mine as yours!'
`We
shall have a tussle for that!' screamed the Troll.
`That
may be,' said the Bull, and rushed at the Troll, and gored out his eyes, and
drove his horns right through him so that his entrails gushed out, but the
Troll fought just as well as he did, and it was three whole days before the
Bull got the life out of him. But the Bull was then so weak and worn out that
it was only with pain and effort that he could move, and so covered with wounds
that the blood streamed from him. So he told the King's daughter to take the
horn of ointment that was hanging at the Troll's belt, and anoint him with it.
She did this, and then he came to himself again, but they had to stay there and
rest for a week before the Bull was able to go any farther.
At
last they set forth on their way again, but the Bull was still weak, and at
first could not go quickly. The King's daughter wished to spare him, and said
that she was so young and light of foot that she would willingly walk, but he
would not give her leave to do that, and she was forced to seat herself on his
back again. So they travelled for a long time, and through many lands, and the
King's daughter did not at all know where he was taking her, but after a long,
long time they came to a gold wood. It was so golden that the gold dripped off
it, and the trees, and the branches, and the flowers, and the leaves were all
of pure gold. Here all happened just as it had happened in the copper wood and
silver wood. The Bull told the King's daughter that on no account was she to
touch it, for there was a Troll with nine heads who was the owner, and that he
was much larger and stronger than both the others put together, and that he did
not believe that he could overcome him. So she said that she would take great
care not to touch anything, and he should see that she did. But when they got
into the wood it was still thicker than the silver wood, and the farther they
got into it the worse it grew. The wood became thicker and thicker, and closer
and closer, and at last she thought there was no way whatsoever by which they
could get forward; she was so terrified lest she should break anything off,
that she sat and twisted, and turned herself on this side and on that, to get
out of the way of the branches, and pushed them away from her with her hands,
but every moment they struck against her eyes, so that she could not see what
she was clutching at, and before she knew what she was doing she had a golden
apple in her hands. She was now in such terror that she began to cry, and
wanted to throw it away, but the Bull said that she was to keep it, and take
the greatest care of it, and comforted her as well as he could, but he believed
that it would be a hard struggle, and he doubted whether it would go well with
him.
Just
then the Troll with nine heads came, and he was so frightful that the King's
daughter scarcely dared to look at him `Who is this who is breaking my wood?'
he screamed
`It
is as much mine as yours!' said the Bull.
`We
shall have a tussle for that!' screamed the Troll.
`That
may be,' said the Bull; so they rushed at each other, and fought, and it was
such a dreadful sight that the King's daughter very nearly swooned. The Bull
gored the Troll's eyes out and ran his horns right through him, but the Troll
fought as well as he did, and when the Bull had gored one head to death the
other heads breathed life into it again, so it was a whole week before the Bull
was able to kill him. But then he himself was so worn out and weak that he
could not move at all. His body was all one wound, and he could not even so
much as tell the King's daughter to take the horn of ointment out of the
Troll's belt and rub him with it. She did this without being told; so he came to
himself again, but he had to lie there for three weeks and rest before he was
in a state to move.
Then
they journeyed onwards by degrees, for the Bull said that they had still a
little farther to go, and in this way they crossed many high hills and thick
woods. This lasted for a while, and then they came upon the fells.
`Do
you see anything?' asked the Bull.
`No,
I see nothing but the sky above and the wild fell side,' said the King's
daughter.
Then
they climbed up higher, and the fell grew more level, so that they could see
farther around them.
`Do
you see anything now?' said the Bull.
`Yes,
I see a small castle, far, far away,' said the Princess.
`It
is not so very little after all,' said the Bull.
After
a long, long time they came to a high hill, where there was a precipitous wall
of rock.
`Do
you see nothing now?' said the Bull.
`Yes,
now I see the castle quite near, and now it is much, much larger,' said the
King's daughter.
`Thither
shall you go,' said the Bull; `immediately below the castle there is a pig-sty,
where you shall dwell. When you get there, you will find a wooden gown which
you are to put on, and then go to the castle and say that you are called Kari
Woodengown, and that you are seeking a place. But now you must take out your
little knife and cut off my head with it, and then you must flay me and roll up
my hide and put it there under the rock, and beneath the hide you must lay the
copper leaf, and the silver leaf, and the golden apple. Close beside the rock a
stick is standing, and when you want me for anything you have only to knock at
the wall of rock with that.'
At
first she would not do it, but when the Bull said that this was the only reward
that he would have for what he had done for her, she could do no otherwise. So
though she thought it very cruel, she slaved on and cut at the great animal
with the knife till she had cut off his head and hide, and then she folded up
the hide and laid it beneath the mountain wall, and put the copper leaf, and
the silver leaf, and the golden apple inside it.
When
she had done that she went away to the pig-sty, but all the way as she went she
wept, and was very sorrowful. Then she put on the wooden gown, and walked to
the King's palace. When she got there she went into the kitchen and begged for
a place, saying that her name was Kari Woodengown.
The
cook told her that she might have a place and leave to stay there at once and
wash up, for the girl who had done that before had just gone away. `And as soon
as you get tired of being here you will take yourself off too,' said he.
`No,'
said she, `that I shall certainly not.'
And
then she washed up, and did it very tidily.
On
Sunday some strangers were coming to the King's palace, so Kari begged to have
leave to carry up the water for the Prince's bath, but the others laughed at
her and said, `What do you want there? Do you think the Prince will ever look
at such a fright as you?'
She
would not give it up, however, but went on begging until at last she got leave.
When she was going upstairs her wooden gown made such a clatter that the Prince
came out and said, `What sort of a creature may you be?'
`I
was to take this water to you,' said Kari.
`Do
you suppose that I will have any water that you bring?' said the Prince, and
emptied it over her.
She
had to bear that, but then she asked permission to go to church. She got that,
for the church was very near. But first she went to the rock and knocked at it
with the stick which was standing there, as the Bull had told her to do.
Instantly a man came forth and asked what she wanted. The King's daughter said
that she had got leave to go to church and listen to the priest, but that she
had no clothes to go in. So he brought her a gown that was as bright as the copper
wood, and she got a horse and saddle too from him. When she reached the church
she was so pretty and so splendidly dressed that every one wondered who she
could be, and hardly anyone listened to what the priest was saying, for they
were all looking far too much at her, and the Prince himself liked her so well
that he could not take his eyes off her for an instant. As she was walking out
of church the Prince followed her and shut the church door after her, and thus
he kept one of her gloves in his hand. Then she went away and mounted her horse
again; the Prince again followed her, and asked her whence she came.
`Oh!
I am from Bathland,' said Kari. And when the Prince took out the glove and
wanted to give it back to her, she said:
`Darkness
behind me, but light on my way, That the Prince may not see where I'm going
to-day!'
The
Prince had never seen the equal of that glove, and he went far and wide, asking
after the country which the proud lady, who rode away without her glove, had
said that she came from, but there was no one who could tell him where it lay.
Next
Sunday some one had to take up a towel to the Prince.
`Ah!
may I have leave to go up with that?' said Kari.
`What
would be the use of that?' said the others who were in the kitchen; `you saw
what happened last time.'
Kari
would not give in, but went on begging for leave till she got it, and then she
ran up the stairs so that her wooden gown clattered again. Out came the Prince,
and when he saw that it was Kari, he snatched the towel from her and flung it
right in her eyes.
`Be
off at once, you ugly Troll,' said he; `do you think that I will have a towel
that has been touched by your dirty fingers?'
After
that the Prince went to church, and Kari also asked leave to go. They all asked
how she could want to go to church when she had nothing to wear but that wooden
gown, which was so black and hideous. But Kari said she thought the priest was
such a good man at preaching that she got so much benefit from what he said,
and at last she got leave.
She
went to the rock and knocked, whereupon out came the man and gave her a gown
which was much more magnificent than the first. It was embroidered with silver
all over it, and it shone like the silver wood, and he gave her also a most
beautiful horse, with housings embroidered with silver, and a bridle of silver
too.
When
the King's daughter got to church all the people were standing outside upon the
hillside, and all of them wondered who on earth she could be, and the Prince
was on the alert in a moment, and came and wanted to hold her horse while she
alighted. But she jumped off and said that there was no need for that, for the
horse was so well broken in that it stood still when she bade it and came when
she called it. So they all went into the church together, but there was
scarcely any one who listened to what the priest was saying, for they were all
looking far too much at her, and the Prince fell much more deeply in love with
her than he had been before.
When
the sermon was over and she went out of the church, and was just going to mount
her horse, the Prince again came and asked her where she came from.
`I
am from Towelland,' said the King's daughter, and as she spoke she dropped her
riding-whip, and while the Prince was stooping to pick it up she said:
`Darkness
behind me, but light on my way, That the Prince may not see where I'm going
to-day!'
And
she was gone again, neither could the Prince see what had become of her. He
went far and wide to inquire for that country from whence she had said that she
came, but there was no one who could tell him where it lay, so he was forced to
have patience once more.
Next
Sunday some one had to go to the Prince with a comb. Kari begged for leave to
go with it, but the others reminded her of what had happened last time, and
scolded her for wanting to let the Prince see her when she was so black and so
ugly in her wooden gown, but she would not give up asking until they gave her
leave to go up to the Prince with the comb. When she went clattering up the
stairs again, out came the Prince and took the comb and flung it at her, and
ordered her to be off as fast as she could. After that the Prince went to
church, and Kari also begged for leave to go. Again they all asked what she would
do there, she who was so black and ugly, and had no clothes that she could be
seen in by other people. The Prince or some one else might very easily catch
sight of her, they said, and then both she and they would suffer for it; but
Kari said that they had something else to do than to look at her, and she never
ceased begging until she got leave to go.
And
now all happened just as it had happened twice already. She went away to the
rock and knocked at it with the stick, and then the man came out and gave her a
gown which was very much more magnificent than either of the others. It was
almost entirely made of pure gold and diamonds, and she also got a noble horse
with housings embroidered with gold, and a golden bridle.
When
the King's daughter came to the church the priest and people were all standing
on the hillside waiting for her, and the Prince ran up and wanted to hold the
horse, but she jumped off, saying:
`No,
thank you, there is no need; my horse is so well broken in that it will stand
still when I bid it.'
So
they all hastened into the church together and the priest got into the pulpit,
but no one listened to what he said, for they were looking far too much at her
and wondering whence she came; and the Prince was far more in love than he had
been on either of the former occasions, and he was mindful of nothing but of
looking at her.
When
the sermon was over and the King's daughter was about to leave the church, the
Prince had caused a firkin of tar to be emptied out in the porch in order that
he might go to help her over it; she, however, did not trouble herself in the
least about the tar, but set her foot down in the middle of it and jumped over
it, and thus one of her gold shoes was left sticking in it. When she had seated
herself on the horse the Prince came running out of the church and asked her
whence she came.
`From
Combland,' said Kari. But when the Prince wanted to reach her her gold shoe,
she said:
`Darkness
behind me, but light on my way, That the Prince may not see where I'm going
to-day!'
The
Prince did not know what had become of her, so he travelled for a long and
wearisome time all over the world, asking where Combland was; but when no one
could tell him where that country was, he caused it to be made known everywhere
that he would marry any woman who could put on the gold shoe. So fair maidens
and ugly maidens came thither from all regions, but there was none who had a
foot so small that she could put on the gold shoe. After a long, long while
came Kari Woodengown's wicked stepmother, with her daughter too, and the shoe
fitted her. But she was so ugly and looked so loathsome that the Prince was
very unwilling to do what he had promised. Nevertheless all was got ready for
the wedding, and she was decked out as a bride, but as they were riding to
church a little bird sat upon a tree and sang:
`A
slice off her heel And a slice off her toes, Kari Woodengown's shoe Fills with
blood as she goes!'
And
when they looked to it the bird had spoken the truth, for blood was trickling
out of the shoe. So all the waiting-maids, and all the womenkind in the castle
had to come and try on the shoe, but there was not one whom it would fit.
`But
where is Kari Woodengown, then?' asked the Prince, when all the others had
tried on the shoe, for he understood the song of birds and it came to his mind
what the bird had said.
`Oh!
that creature!' said the others; `it's not the least use for her to come here,
for she has feet like a horse!'
`That
may be,' said the Prince, `but as all the others have tried it, Kari may try it
too.'
`Kari!'
he called out through the door, and Kari came upstairs, and her wooden gown
clattered as if a whole regiment of dragoons were coming up.
`Now,
you are to try on the gold shoe and be a Princess,' said the other servants,
and they laughed at her and mocked her. Kari took up the shoe, put her foot
into it as easily as possible, and then threw off her wooden gown, and there
she stood in the golden gown which flashed like rays of sunshine, and on her
other foot she had the fellow to the gold shoe. The Prince knew her in a
moment, and was so glad that he ran and took her in his arms and kissed her,
and when he heard that she was a King's daughter he was gladder still, and then
they had the wedding.[14]
[14]
From P. C. Asbjornsen.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f19]
DRAKESTAIL
DRAKESTAIL
was very little, that is why he was called Drakestail; but tiny as he was he
had brains, and he knew what he was about, for having begun with nothing he
ended by amassing a hundred crowns. Now the King of the country, who was very
extravagant and never kept any money, having heard that Drakestail had some,
went one day in his own person to borrow his hoard, and, my word, in those days
Drakestail was not a little proud of having lent money to the King. But after
the first and second year, seeing that they never even dreamed of paying the
interest, he became uneasy, so much so that at last he resolved to go and see
His Majesty himself, and get repaid. So one fine morning Drakestail, very
spruce and fresh, takes the road, singing: `Quack, quack, quack, when shall I
get my money back?'
He
had not gone far when he met friend Fox, on his rounds that way.
`Good-morning,
neighbour,' says the friend, `where are you off to so early?'
`I
am going to the King for what he owes me.'
`Oh!
take me with thee!'
Drakestail
said to himself: `One can't have too many friends.' . . . `I will,' says he,
`but going on all-fours you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get
into my throat--go into my gizzard and I will carry you.'
`Happy
thought!' says friend Fox.
He
takes bag and baggage, and, presto! is gone like a letter into the post.
And
Drakestail is off again, all spruce and fresh, still singing: `Quack, quack,
quack, when shall I have my money back?'
He
had not gone far when he met his lady-friend Ladder, leaning on her wall.
`Good
morning, my duckling,' says the lady friend, `whither away so bold?'
`I
am going to the King for what he owes me.'
`Oh!
take me with thee!'
Drakestail
said to himself: `One can't have too many friends.' . . . `I will,' says he,
`but with your wooden legs you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small,
get into my throat--go into my gizzard and I will carry you.'
`Happy
thought!' says my friend Ladder, and nimble, bag and baggage, goes to keep
company with friend Fox.
And
`Quack, quack, quack.' Drakestail is off again, singing and spruce as before. A
little farther he meets his sweetheart, my friend River, wandering quietly in
the sunshine.
`Thou,
my cherub,' says she, `whither so lonesome, with arching tail, on this muddy
road?'
`I
am going to the King, you know, for what he owes me.'
`Oh!
take me with thee!'
Drakestail
said to himself: `We can't be too many friends.' . . . `I will,' says he, `but
you who sleep while you walk will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get
into my throat--go into my gizzard and I will carry you.'
`Ah!
happy thought!' says my friend River.
She
takes bag and baggage, and glou, glou, glou, she takes her place between friend
Fox and my friend Ladder.
And
`Quack, quack, quack.' Drakestail is off again singing.
A
little farther on he meets comrade Wasp's-nest, manoeuvring his wasps.
`Well,
good-morning, friend Drakestail,' said comrade Wasp's-nest, `where are we bound
for so spruce and fresh?'
`I
am going to the King for what he owes me.'
`Oh!
take me with thee!'
Drakestail
said to himself, `One can't have too many friends.' . . . `I will,' says he,
`but with your battalion to drag along, you will soon be tired. Make yourself
quite small, go into my throat--get into my gizzard and I will carry you.'
`By
Jove I that's a good idea!' says comrade Wasp's-nest.
And
left file! he takes the same road to join the others with all his party. There
was not much more room, but by closing up a bit they managed. . . . And
Drakestail is off again singing.
He
arrived thus at the capital, and threaded his way straight up the High Street,
still running and singing `Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money
back?' to the great astonishment of the good folks, till he came to the King's
palace.
He
strikes with the knocker: `Toc! toc!'
`Who
is there?' asks the porter, putting his head out of the wicket.
`
'Tis I, Drakestail. I wish to speak to the King.'
`Speak
to the King! . . . That's easily said. The King is dining, and will not be
disturbed.'
`Tell
him that it is I, and I have come he well knows why.'
The
porter shuts his wicket and goes up to say it to the King, who was just sitting
down to dinner with a napkin round his neck, and all his ministers.
`Good,
good!' said the King laughing. `I know what it is! Make him come in, and put
him with the turkeys and chickens.'
The
porter descends.
`Have
the goodness to enter.'
`Good!'
says Drakestail to himself, `I shall now see how they eat at court.'
`This
way, this way,' says the porter. `One step further. . . . There, there you are.'
`How? what? in the poultry yard?'
Fancy
how vexed Drakestail was!
`Ah!
so that's it,' says he. `Wait! I will compel you to receive me. Quack, quack,
quack, when shall I get my money back?' But turkeys and chickens are creatures
who don't like people that are not as themselves. When they saw the new-comer
and how he was made, and when they heard him crying too, they began to look
black at him.
`What
is it? what does he want?'
Finally
they rushed at him all together, to overwhelm him with pecks.
`I
am lost!' said Drakestail to himself, when by good luck he remembers his
comrade friend Fox, and he cries:
`Reynard,
Reynard, come out of your earth, Or Drakestail's life is of little worth.'
Then
friend Fox, who was only waiting for these words, hastens out, throws himself
on the wicked fowls, and quick! quack! he tears them to pieces; so much so that
at the end of five minutes there was not one left alive. And Drakestail, quite
content, began to sing again, `Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money
back?'
When
the King who was still at table heard this refrain, and the poultry woman came
to tell him what had been going on in the yard, he was terribly annoyed.
He
ordered them to throw this tail of a drake into the well, to make an end of
him.
And
it was done as he commanded. Drakestail was in despair of getting himself out
of such a deep hole, when he remembered his lady friend, the Ladder.
`Ladder,
Ladder, come out of thy hold, Or Drakestail's days will soon be told.'
My
friend Ladder, who was only waiting for these words, hastens out, leans her two
arms on the edge of the well, then Drakestail climbs nimbly on her back, and
hop! he is in the yard, where he begins to sing louder than ever.
When
the King, who was still at table and laughing at the good trick he had played
his creditor, heard him again reclaiming his money, he became livid with rage.
He
commanded that the furnace should be heated, and this tail of a drake thrown
into it, because he must be a sorcerer.
The
furnace was soon hot, but this time Drakestail was not so afraid; he counted on
his sweetheart, my friend River.
`River,
River, outward flow, Or to death Drakestail must go.'
My
friend River hastens out, and errouf! throws herself into the furnace, which
she floods, with all the people who had lighted it; after which she flowed
growling into the hall of the palace to the height of more than four feet.
And
Drakestail, quite content, begins to swim, singing deafeningly, `Quack, quack,
quack, when shall I get my money back?'
The
King was still at table, and thought himself quite sure of his game; but when
he heard Drakestail singing again, and when they told him all that had passed,
he became furious and got up from table brandishing his fists.
`Bring
him here, and I'll cut his throat! bring him here quick!' cried he.
And
quickly two footmen ran to fetch Drakestail.
`At
last,' said the poor chap, going up the great stairs, `they have decided to
receive me.'
Imagine
his terror when on entering he sees the King as red as a turkey cock, and all
his ministers attending him standing sword in hand. He thought this time it was
all up with him. Happily, he remembered that there was still one remaining
friend, and he cried with dying accents:
`Wasp's-nest,
Wasp's-nest, make a sally, Or Drakestail nevermore may rally.'
Hereupon
the scene changes.
`Bs,
bs, bayonet them! `The brave Wasp's-nest rushes out with all his wasps. They
threw themselves on the infuriated King and his ministers, and stung them so
fiercely in the face that they lost their heads, and not knowing where to hide
themselves they all jumped pell-mell from the window and broke their necks on
the pavement.
Behold
Drakestail much astonished, all alone in the big saloon and master of the
field. He could not get over it.
Nevertheless,
he remembered shortly what he had come for to the palace, and improving the
occasion, he set to work to hunt for his dear money. But in vain he rummaged in
all the drawers; he found nothing; all had been spent.
And
ferreting thus from room to room he came at last to the one with the throne in
it, and feeling fatigued, he sat himself down on it to think over his
adventure. In the meanwhile the people had found their King and his ministers with
their feet in the air on the pavement, and they had gone into the palace to
know how it had occurred. On entering the throne-room, when the crowd saw that
there was already someone on the royal seat, they broke out in cries of
surprise and joy:
`The
King is dead, long live the King! Heaven has sent us down this thing.'
Drakestail,
who was no longer surprised at anything, received the acclamations of the
people as if he had never done anything else all his life.
A
few of them certainly murmured that a Drakestail would make a fine King; those
who knew him replied that a knowing Drakestail was a more worthy King than a
spendthrift like him who was lying on the pavement. In short, they ran and took
the crown off the head of the deceased, and placed it on that of Drakestail,
whom it fitted like wax.
Thus
he became King.
`And
now,' said he after the ceremony,; ladies and gentlemen, let's go to supper. I
am so hungry!'[15]
[15]
Contes of Ch. Marelles.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f20]
THE
RATCATCHER
A
VERY long time ago the town of Hamel in Germany was invaded by bands of rats,
the like of which had never been seen before nor will ever be again.
They
were great black creatures that ran boldly in broad daylight through the
streets, and swarmed so, all over the houses, that people at last could not put
their hand or foot down anywhere without touching one. When dressing in the
morning they found them in their breeches and petticoats, in their pockets and
in their boots; and when they wanted a morsel to eat, the voracious horde had
swept away everything from cellar to garret. The night was even worse. As soon
as the lights were out, these untiring nibblers set to work. And everywhere, in
the ceilings, in the floors, in the cupboards, at the doors, there was a chase
and a rummage, and so furious a noise of gimlets, pincers, and saws, that a
deaf man could not have rested for one hour together.
Neither
cats nor dogs, nor poison nor traps, nor prayers nor candles burnt to all the
saints--nothing would do anything. The more they killed the more came. And the
inhabitants of Hamel began to go to the dogs (not that THEY were of much use),
when one Friday there arrived in the town a man with a queer face, who played
the bagpipes and sang this refrain:
`Qui
vivra verra: Le voila, Le preneur des rats.'
He
was a great gawky fellow, dry and bronzed, with a crooked nose, a long rat-tail
moustache, two great yellow piercing and mocking eyes, under a large felt hat
set off by a scarlet cock's feather. He was dressed in a green jacket with a
leather belt and red breeches, and on his feet were sandals fastened by thongs
passed round his legs in the gipsy fashion.
That
is how he may be seen to this day, painted on a window of the cathedral of
Hamel.
He
stopped on the great market-place before the town hall, turned his back on the
church and went on with his music, singing:
`Who
lives shall see: This is he, The ratcatcher.'
The
town council had just assembled to consider once more this plague of Egypt,
from which no one could save the town.
The
stranger sent word to the counsellors that, if they would make it worth his
while, he would rid them of all their rats before night, down to the very last.
`Then
he is a sorcerer!' cried the citizens with one voice; `we must beware of him.'
The
Town Counsellor, who was considered clever, reassured them.
He
said: `Sorcerer or no, if this bagpiper speaks the truth, it was he who sent us
this horrible vermin that he wants to rid us of to-day for money. Well, we must
learn to catch the devil in his own snares. You leave it to me.'
`Leave
it to the Town Counsellor,' said the citizens one to another.
And
the stranger was brought before them.
`Before
night,' said he, `I shall have despatched all the rats in Hamel if you will but
pay me a gros a head.'
`A
gros a head!' cried the citizens, `but that will come to millions of florins!'
The
Town Counsellor simply shrugged his shoulders and said to the stranger:
`A
bargain! To work; the rats will be paid one gros a head as you ask.'
The
bagpiper announced that he would operate that very evening when the moon rose.
He added that the inhabitants should at that hour leave the streets free, and
content themselves with looking out of their windows at what was passing, and
that it would be a pleasant spectacle. When the people of Hamel heard of the
bargain, they too exclaimed: `A gros a head! but this will cost us a deal of
money!'
`Leave
it to the Town Counsellor,' said the town council with a malicious air. And the
good people of Hamel repeated with their counsellors, `Leave it to the Town
Counsellor.'
Towards
nine at night the bagpiper re-appeared on the market place. He turned, as at
first, his back to the church, and the moment the moon rose on the horizon,
`Trarira, trari!' the bagpipes resounded.
It
was first a slow, caressing sound, then more and more lively and urgent, and so
sonorous and piercing that it penetrated as far as the farthest alleys and
retreats of the town.
Soon
from the bottom of the cellars, the top of the garrets, from under all the
furniture, from all the nooks and corners of the houses, out come the rats,
search for the door, fling themselves into the street, and trip, trip, trip,
begin to run in file towards the front of the town hall, so squeezed together
that they covered the pavement like the waves of flooded torrent.
When
the square was quite full the bagpiper faced about, and, still playing briskly,
turned towards the river that runs at the foot of the walls of Hamel.
Arrived
there he turned round; the rats were following.
`Hop!
hop!' he cried, pointing with his finger to the middle of the stream, where the
water whirled and was drawn down as if through a funnel. And hop! hop! without
hesitating, the rats took the leap, swam straight to the funnel, plunged in
head foremost and disappeared.
The
plunging continued thus without ceasing till midnight.
At
last, dragging himself with difficulty, came a big rat, white with age, and
stopped on the bank.
It
was the king of the band.
`Are
they all there, friend Blanchet?' asked the bagpiper.
`They
are all there,' replied friend Blanchet.
`And
how many were they?'
`Nine
hundred and ninety thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine.'
`Well
reckoned?'
`Well
reckoned.'
`Then
go and join them, old sire, and au revoir.'
Then
the old white rat sprang in his turn into the river, swam to the whirlpool and
disappeared.
When
the bagpiper had thus concluded his business he went to bed at his inn. And for
the first time during three months the people of Hamel slept quietly through
the night.
The
next morning, at nine o'clock, the bagpiper repaired to the town hall, where
the town council awaited him.
`All
your rats took a jump into the river yesterday,' said he to the counsellors,
`and I guarantee that not one of them comes back. They were nine hundred and
ninety thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine, at one gros a head. Reckon!'
`Let
us reckon the heads first. One gros a head is one head the gros. Where are the
heads?'
The
ratcatcher did not expect this treacherous stroke. He paled with anger and his
eyes flashed fire.
`The
heads!' cried he, `if you care about them, go and find them in the river.'
`So,'
replied the Town Counsellor, `you refuse to hold to the terms of your
agreement? We ourselves could refuse you all payment. But you have been of use
to us, and we will not let you go without a recompense,' and he offered him
fifty crowns.
`Keep
your recompense for yourself,' replied the ratcatcher proudly. `If you do not
pay me I will be paid by your heirs.'
Thereupon
he pulled his hat down over his eyes, went hastily out of the hall, and left
the town without speaking to a soul.
When
the Hamel people heard how the affair had ended they rubbed their hands, and
with no more scruple than their Town Counsellor, they laughed over the
ratcatcher, who, they said, was caught in his own trap. But what made them
laugh above all was his threat of getting himself paid by their heirs. Ha! they
wished that they only had such creditors for the rest of their lives.
Next
day, which was a Sunday, they all went gaily to church, thinking that after
Mass they would at last be able to eat some good thing that the rats had not
tasted before them.
They
never suspected the terrible surprise that awaited them on their return home.
No children anywhere, they had all disappeared!
`Our
children! where are our poor children?' was the cry that was soon heard in all
the streets.
Then
through the east door of the town came three little boys, who cried and wept,
and this is what they told:
While
the parents were at church a wonderful music had resounded. Soon all the little
boys and all the little girls that had been left at home had gone out,
attracted by the magic sounds, and had rushed to the great market-place. There
they found the ratcatcher playing his bagpipes at the same spot as the evening
before. Then the stranger had begun to walk quickly, and they had followed,
running, singing and dancing to the sound of the music, as far as the foot of
the mountain which one sees on entering Hamel. At their approach the mountain
had opened a little, and the bagpiper had gone in with them, after which it had
closed again. Only the three little ones who told the adventure had remained
outside, as if by a miracle. One was bandy-legged and could not run fast
enough; the other, who had left the house in haste, one foot shod the other
bare, had hurt himself against a big stone and could not walk without
difficulty; the third had arrived in time, but in harrying to go in with the
others had struck so violently against the wall of the mountain that he fell
backwards at the moment it closed upon his comrades.
At
this story the parents redoubled their lamentations. They ran with pikes and
mattocks to the mountain, and searched till evening to find the opening by
which their children had disappeared, without being able to find it. At last,
the night falling, they returned desolate to Hamel.
But
the most unhappy of all was the Town Counsellor, for he lost three little boys
and two pretty little girls, and to crown all, the people of Hamel overwhelmed
him with reproaches, forgetting that the evening before they had all agreed
with him.
What
had become of all these unfortunate children?
The
parents always hoped they were not dead, and that the rat-catcher, who
certainly must have come out of the mountain, would have taken them with him to
his country. That is why for several years they sent in search of them to
different countries, but no one ever came on the trace of the poor little ones.
It
was not till much later that anything was to be heard of them.
About
one hundred and fifty years after the event, when there was no longer one left
of the fathers, mothers, brothers or sisters of that day, there arrived one
evening in Hamel some merchants of Bremen returning from the East, who asked to
speak with the citizens. They told that they, in crossing Hungary, had
sojourned in a mountainous country called Transylvania, where the inhabitants
only spoke German, while all around them nothing was spoken but Hungarian.
These people also declared that they came from Germany, but they did not know
how they chanced to be in this strange country. `Now,' said the merchants of
Bremen, `these Germans cannot be other than the descendants of the lost
children of Hamel.'
The
people of Hamel did not doubt it; and since that day they regard it as certain
that the Transylvanians of Hungary are their country folk, whose ancestors, as
children, were brought there by the ratcatcher. There are more difficult things
to believe than that.[16]
[16]
Ch. Marelles,
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f21]
THE
TRUE HISTORY OF LITTLE GOLDEN HOOD
YOU
know the tale of poor Little Red Riding-hood, that the Wolf deceived and
devoured, with her cake, her little butter can, and her Grandmother; well, the
true story happened quite differently, as we know now. And first of all the
little girl was called and is still called Little Golden-hood; secondly, it was
not she, nor the good grand-dame, but the wicked Wolf who was, in the end,
caught and devoured.
Only
listen.
The
story begins something like the tale.
There
was once a little peasant girl, pretty and nice as a star in its season. Her
real name was Blanchette, but she was more often called Little Golden-hood, on
account of a wonderful little cloak with a hood, gold-and fire-coloured, which
she always had on. This little hood was given her by her Grandmother, who was
so old that she did not know her age; it ought to bring her good luck, for it
was made of a ray of sunshine, she said. And as the good old woman was
considered something of a witch, everyone thought the little hood rather
bewitched too.
And
so it was, as you will see.
One
day the mother said to the child: `Let us see, my little Golden-hood, if you
know now how to find your way by yourself. You shall take this good piece of
cake to your Grandmother for a Sunday treat to-morrow. You will ask her how she
is, and come back at once, without stopping to chatter on the way with people
you don't know. Do you quite understand?'
`I
quite understand,' replied Blanchette gaily. And off she went with the cake,
quite proud of her errand.
But
the Grandmother lived in another village, and there was a big wood to cross
before getting there. At a turn of the road under the trees, suddenly `Who goes
there?'
`Friend
Wolf.'
He
had seen the child start alone, and the villain was waiting to devour her; when
at the same moment he perceived some wood-cutters who might observe him, and he
changed his mind. Instead of falling upon Blanchette he came frisking up to her
like a good dog.
`
'Tis you! my nice Little Golden-hood,' said he. So the little girl stops to
talk with the Wolf, who, for all that, she did not know in the least.
`You
know me, then!' said she; `what is your name?'
`My
name is friend Wolf. And where are you going thus, my pretty one, with your
little basket on your arm?'
`I
am going to my Grandmother, to take her a good piece of cake for her Sunday
treat to-morrow.'
`And
where does she live, your Grandmother?'
`She
lives at the other side of the wood, in the first house in the village, near
the windmill, you know.'
`Ah!
yes! I know now,' said the Wolf. `Well, that's just where I'm going; I shall
get there before you, no doubt, with your little bits of legs, and I'll tell
her you're coming to see her; then she'll wait for you.'
Thereupon
the Wolf cuts across the wood, and in five minutes arrives at the Grandmother's
house.
He
knocks at the door: toc, toc.
No
answer.
He
knocks louder.
Nobody.
Then
he stands up on end, puts his two fore-paws on the latch and the door opens.
Not
a soul in the house.
The
old woman had risen early to sell herbs in the town, and she had gone off in
such haste that she had left her bed unmade, with her great night-cap on the
pillow.
`Good!'
said the Wolf to himself, `I know what I'll do.'
He
shuts the door, pulls on the Grandmother's night-cap down to his eyes, then he
lies down all his length in the bed and draws the curtains.
In
the meantime the good Blanchette went quietly on her way, as little girls do, amusing
herself here and there by picking Easter daisies, watching the little birds
making their nests, and running after the butterflies which fluttered in the
sunshine.
At
last she arrives at the door.
Knock,
knock.
`Who
is there?' says the Wolf, softening his rough voice as best he can.
`It's
me, Granny, your little Golden-hood. I'm bringing you a big piece of cake for
your Sunday treat to-morrow.'
`Press
your finger on the latch, then push and the door opens.'
`Why,
you've got a cold, Granny,' said she, coming in.
`Ahem!
a little, a little . . .' replies the Wolf, pretending to cough. `Shut the door
well, my little lamb. Put your basket on the table, and then take off your
frock and come and lie down by me: you shall rest a little.'
The
good child undresses, but observe this! She kept her little hood upon her head.
When she saw what a figure her Granny cut in bed, the poor little thing was
much surprised.
`Oh!'
cries she, `how like you are to friend Wolf, Grandmother!'
`That's
on account of my night-cap, child,' replies the Wolf.
`Oh!
what hairy arms you've got, Grandmother!'
`All
the better to hug you, my child.'
`Oh!
what a big tongue you've got, Grandmother!'
`All
the better for answering, child.'
`Oh!
what a mouthful of great white teeth you have, Grandmother!'
`That's
for crunching little children with! `And the Wolf opened his jaws wide to
swallow Blanchette.
But
she put down her head crying:
`Mamma!
Mamma!' and the Wolf only caught her little hood.
Thereupon,
oh dear! oh dear! he draws back, crying and shaking his jaw as if he had
swallowed red-hot coals.
It
was the little fire-coloured hood that had burnt his tongue right down his
throat.
The
little hood, you see, was one of those magic caps that they used to have in
former times, in the stories, for making oneself invisible or invulnerable.
So
there was the Wolf with his throat burnt, jumping off the bed and trying to
find the door, howling and howling as if all the dogs in the country were at
his heels.
Just
at this moment the Grandmother arrives, returning from the town with her long
sack empty on her shoulder.
`Ah,
brigand!' she cries, `wait a bit!' Quickly she opens her sack wide across the
door, and the maddened Wolf springs in head downwards.
It
is he now that is caught, swallowed like a letter in the post.
For
the brave old dame shuts her sack, so; and she runs and empties it in the well,
where the vagabond, still howling, tumbles in and is drowned.
`Ah,
scoundrel! you thought you would crunch my little grandchild! Well, to-morrow
we will make her a muff of your skin, and you yourself shall be crunched, for
we will give your carcass to the dogs.'
Thereupon
the Grandmother hastened to dress poor Blanchette, who was still trembling with
fear in the bed.
`Well,'
she said to her, `without my little hood where would you be now, darling?' And,
to restore heart and legs to the child, she made her eat a good piece of her
cake, and drink a good draught of wine, after which she took her by the hand
and led her back to the house.
And
then, who was it who scolded her when she knew all that had happened?
It
was the mother.
But
Blanchette promised over and over again that she would never more stop to
listen to a Wolf, so that at last the mother forgave her.
And
Blanchette, the Little Golden-hood, kept her word. And in fine weather she may
still be seen in the fields with her pretty little hood, the colour of the sun.
But
to see her you must rise early.[17]
[17]
Ch. Marelles
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f22]
THE
GOLDEN BRANCH
ONCE
upon a time there was a King who was so morose and disagreeable that he was
feared by all his subjects, and with good reason, as for the most trifling
offences he would have their heads cut off. This King Grumpy, as he was called,
had one son, who was as different from his father as he could possibly be. No
prince equalled him in cleverness and kindness of heart, but unfortunately he
was most terribly ugly. He had crooked legs and squinting eyes, a large mouth
all on one side, and a hunchback. Never was there a beautiful soul in such a
frightful little body, but in spite of his appearance everybody loved him. The
Queen, his mother, called him Curlicue, because it was a name she rather liked,
and it seemed to suit him.
King
Grumpy, who cared a great deal more for his own grandeur than for his son's
happiness, wished to betroth the Prince to the daughter of a neighbouring King,
whose great estates joined his own, for he thought that this alliance would
make him more powerful than ever, and as for the Princess she would do very
well for Prince Curlicue, for she was as ugly as himself. Indeed, though she
was the most amiable creature in the world, there was no concealing the fact
that she was frightful, and so lame that she always went about with a crutch,
and people called her Princess Cabbage-Stalk.
The
King, having asked for and received a portrait of this Princess, had it placed
in his great hall under a canopy, and sent for Prince Curlicue, to whom he said
that as this was the portrait of his future bride, he hoped the Prince found it
charming.
The
Prince after one glance at it turned away with a disdainful air, which greatly
offended his father.
`Am
I to understand that you are not pleased?' he said very sharply.
`No,
sire,' replied the Prince. `How could I be pleased to marry an ugly, lame
Princess?'
`Certainly
it is becoming in YOU to object to that,' said King Grumpy, `since you are ugly
enough to frighten anyone yourself.'
`That
is the very reason,' said the Prince, `that I wish to marry someone who is not
ugly. I am quite tired enough of seeing myself.'
`I
tell you that you shall marry her,' cried King Grumpy angrily.
And
the Prince, seeing that it was of no use to remonstrate, bowed and retired.
As
King Grumpy was not used to being contradicted in anything, he was very much
displeased with his son, and ordered that he should be imprisoned in the tower
that was kept on purpose for rebellious Princes, but had not been used for
about two hundred years, because there had not been any. The Prince thought all
the rooms looked strangely old-fashioned, with their antique furniture, but as
there was a good library he was pleased, for he was very fond of reading, and
he soon got permission to have as many books as he liked. But when he looked at
them he found that they were written in a forgotten language, and he could not
understand a single word, though he amused himself with trying.
King
Grumpy was so convinced that Prince Curlicue would soon get tired of being in
prison, and so consent to marry the Princess Cabbage-Stalk, that he sent
ambassadors to her father proposing that she should come and be married to his
son, who would make her perfectly happy.
The
King was delighted to receive so good an offer for his unlucky daughter,
though, to tell the truth, he found it impossible to admire the Prince's
portrait which had been sent to him. However, he had it placed in as favourable
a light as possible, and sent for the Princess, but the moment she caught sight
of it she looked the other way and began to cry. The King, who was very much
annoyed to see how greatly she disliked it, took a mirror, and holding it up
before the unhappy Princess, said:
`I
see you do not think the Prince handsome, but look at yourself, and see if you
have any right to complain about that.'
`Sire,'
she answered, `I do not wish to complain, only I beg of you do not make me
marry at all. I had rather be the unhappy Princess Cabbage-Stalk all my life
than inflict the sight of my ugliness on anyone else.'
But
the King would not listen to her, and sent her away with the ambassadors.
In
the meantime the Prince was kept safely locked up in his tower, and, that he
might be as dull as possible, King Grumpy ordered that no one should speak to
him, and that they should give him next to nothing to eat. But all the Princess
guards were so fond of him that they did everything they dared, in spite of the
King, to make the time pass pleasantly.
One
day, as the Prince was walking up and down the great gallery, thinking how
miserable it was to be so ugly, and to be forced to marry an equally frightful
Princess, he looked up suddenly and noticed that the painted windows were
particularly bright and beautiful, and for the sake of doing something that
would change his sad thoughts he began to examine them attentively. He found
that the pictures seemed to be scenes from the life of a man who appeared in every
window, and the Prince, fancying that he saw in this man some resemblance to
himself, began to be deeply interested. In the first window there was a picture
of him in one of the turrets of the tower, farther on he was seeking something
in a chink in the wall, in the next picture he was opening an old cabinet with
a golden key, and so it went on through numbers of scenes, and presently the
Prince noticed that another figure occupied the most important place in each
scene, and this time it was a tall handsome young man: poor Prince Curlicue
found it a pleasure to look at him, he was so straight and strong. By this time
it had grown dark, and the Prince had to go back to his own room, and to amuse
himself he took up a quaint old book and began to look at the pictures. But his
surprise was great to find that they represented the same scenes as the windows
of the gallery, and what was more, that they seemed to be alive. In looking at
pictures of musicians he saw their hands move and heard sweet sounds; there was
a picture of a ball, and the Prince could watch the little dancing people come
and go. He turned a page, and there was an excellent smell of a savoury dinner,
and one of the figures who sat at the feast looked at him and said:
`We
drink your health, Curlicue. Try to give us our Queen again, for if you do you
will be rewarded; if not, it will be the worse for you.'
At
these words the Prince, who had been growing more and more astonished, was
fairly terrified, and dropping the book with a crash he sank back insensible.
The noise he made brought his guards to his aid, and as soon as he revived they
asked him what was the matter. He answered that he was so faint and giddy with
hunger that he had imagined he saw and heard all sorts of strange things. Thereupon,
in spite of the King's orders, the guards gave him an excellent supper, and
when he had eaten it he again opened his book, but could see none of the
wonderful pictures, which convinced him that he must have been dreaming before.
However,
when he went into he gallery next day and looked at the painted windows again,
he found that they moved, and the figures came and went as if they had been
alive, and after watching the one who was like himself find the key in the
crack of the turret wall and open the old cabinet, he determined to go and
examine the place himself, and try to find out what the mystery was. So he went
up into the turret and began to search about and tap upon the walls, and all at
once he came upon a place that sounded hollow. Taking a hammer he broke away a
bit of the stone, and found behind it a little golden key. The next thing to do
was to find the cabinet, and the Prince soon came to it, hidden away in a dark
corner, though indeed it was so old and battered-looking that he would never
have noticed it of his own accord. At first he could not see any keyhole, but
after a careful search he found one hidden in the carving, and the golden key
just fitted it; so the Prince gave it a vigorous turn and the doors flew open.
Ugly
and old as the cabinet was outside, nothing could have been more rich and
beautiful than what met the Prince's astonished eyes. Every drawer was made of
crystal, of amber, or of some precious stone, and was quite full of every kind
of treasure. Prince Curlicue was delighted; he opened one after another, until
at last he came to one tiny drawer which contained only an emerald key.
`I
believe that this must open that little golden door in the middle,' said the
Prince to himself. And he fitted in the little key and turned it. The tiny door
swung back, and a soft crimson light gleamed over the whole cabinet. The Prince
found that it proceeded from an immense glowing carbuncle, made into a box,
which lay before him. He lost no time in opening it, but what was his horror
when he found that it contained a man's hand, which was holding a portrait. His
first thought was to put back the terrible box and fly from the turret; but a
voice in his ear said, `This hand belonged to one whom you can help and
restore. Look at this beautiful portrait, the original of which was the cause
of all my misfortunes, and if you wish to help me, go without a moment's delay
to the great gallery, notice where the sun's rays fall most brightly, and if
you seek there you will find my treasure.'
The
voice ceased, and though the Prince in his bewilderment asked various
questions, he received no answer. So he put back the box and locked the cabinet
up again, and, having replaced the key in the crack in the wall, hastened down
to the gallery.
When
he entered it all the windows shook and clattered in the strangest way, but the
Prince did not heed them; he was looking so carefully for the place where the
sun shone most brightly, and it seemed to him that it was upon the portrait of
a most splendidly handsome young man.
He
went up and examined it, and found that it rested against the ebony and gold
panelling, just like any of the other pictures in the gallery. He was puzzled,
not knowing what to do next, until it occurred to him to see if the windows
would help him, and, looking at the nearest, he saw a picture of himself
lifting the picture from the wall.
The
Prince took the hint, and lifting aside the picture without difficulty, found
himself in a marble hall adorned with statues; from this he passed on through
numbers of splendid rooms, until at last he reached one all hung with blue
gauze. The walls were of turquoises, and upon a low couch lay a lovely lady,
who seemed to be asleep. Her hair, black as ebony, was spread across the
pillows, making her face look ivory white, and the Prince noticed that she was
unquiet; and when he softly advanced, fearing to wake her, he could hear her
sigh, and murmur to herself:
`Ah!
how dared you think to win my love by separating me from my beloved Florimond,
and in my presence cutting off that dear hand that even you should have feared
and honoured?'
And
then the tears rolled slowly down the lovely lady's cheeks, and Prince Curlicue
began to comprehend that she was under an enchantment, and that it was the hand
of her lover that he had found.
At
this moment a huge Eagle flew into the room, holding in its talons a Golden
Branch, upon which were growing what looked like clusters of cherries, only
every cherry was a single glowing ruby.
This
he presented to the Prince, who guessed by this time that he was in some way to
break the enchantment that surrounded the sleeping lady. Taking the branch he
touched her lightly with it, saying:
`Fair
one, I know not by what enchantment thou art bound, but in the name of thy
beloved Florimond I conjure thee to come back to the life which thou hast lost,
but not forgotten.'
Instantly
the lady opened her lustrous eyes, and saw the Eagle hovering near.
`Ah!
stay, dear love, stay,' she cried. But the Eagle, uttering a dolorous cry,
fluttered his broad wings and disappeared. Then the lady turned to Prince
Curlicue, and said:
`I
know that it is to you I owe my deliverance from an enchantment which has held
me for two hundred years. If there is anything that I can do for you in return,
you have only to tell me, and all my fairy power shall be used to make you
happy.'
`Madam,'
said Prince Curlicue, `I wish to be allowed to restore your beloved Florimond
to his natural form, since I cannot forget the tears you shed for him.'
`That
is very amiable of you, dear Prince,' said the Fairy, `but it is reserved for
another person to do that. I cannot explain more at present. But is there
nothing you wish for yourself?'
`Madam,'
cried the Prince, flinging himself down at her feet, `only look at my ugliness.
I am called Curlicue, and am an object of derision; I entreat you to make me
less ridiculous.'
`Rise,
Prince,' said the Fairy, touching him with the Golden Branch. `Be as
accomplished as you are handsome, and take the name of Prince Peerless, since
that is the only title which will suit you now.'
Silent
from joy, the Prince kissed her hand to express his thanks, and when he rose
and saw his new reflection in the mirrors which surrounded him, he understood
that Curlicue was indeed gone for ever.
`How
I wish,' said the Fairy, `that I dared to tell you what is in store for you,
and warn you of the traps which lie in your path, but I must not. Fly from the
tower, Prince, and remember that the Fairy Douceline will be your friend
always.'
When
she had finished speaking, the Prince, to his great astonishment, found himself
no longer in the tower, but set down in a thick forest at least a hundred
leagues away from it. And there we must leave him for the present, and see what
was happening elsewhere.
When
the guards found that the Prince did not ask for his supper as usual, they went
into his room, and not finding him there, were very much alarmed, and searched
the tower from turret to dungeon, but without success. Knowing that the King
would certainly have their heads cut off for allowing the Prince to escape,
they then agreed to say that he was ill, and after making the smallest among
them look as much like Prince Curlicue as possible, they put him into his bed and
sent to inform the King.
King
Grumpy was quite delighted to hear that his son was ill, for he thought that he
would all the sooner be brought to do as he wished, and marry the Princess. So
he sent back to the guards to say that the Prince was to be treated as severely
as before, which was just what they had hoped he would say. In the meantime the
Princess Cabbage-Stalk had reached the palace, travelling in a litter.
King
Grumpy went out to meet her, but when he saw her, with a skin like a tortoise's,
her thick eyebrows meeting above her large nose, and her mouth from ear to ear,
he could not help crying out:
`Well,
I must say Curlicue is ugly enough, but I don't think YOU need have thought
twice before consenting to marry him.'
`Sire,'
she replied, `I know too well what I am like to be hurt by what you say, but I
assure you that I have no wish to marry your son I had rather be called
Princess Cabbage-Stalk than Queen Curlicue.'
This
made King Grumpy very angry.
`Your
father has sent you here to marry my son,' he said, `and you may be sure that I
am not going to offend him by altering his arrangements.' So the poor Princess
was sent away in disgrace to her own apartments, and the ladies who attended
upon her were charged to bring her to a better mind.
At
this juncture the guards, who were in great fear that they would be found out,
sent to tell the King that his son was dead, which annoyed him very much. He at
once made up his mind that it was entirely the Princess's fault, and gave orders
that she should be imprisoned in the tower in Prince Curlicue's place. The
Princess Cabbage-Stalk was immensely astonished at this unjust proceeding, and
sent many messages of remonstrance to King Grumpy, but he was in such a temper
that no one dared to deliver them, or to send the letters which the Princess
wrote to her father. However, as she did not know this, she lived in hope of
soon going back to her own country, and tried to amuse herself as well as she
could until the time should come. Every day she walked up and down the long
gallery, until she too was attracted and fascinated by the ever-changing
pictures in the windows, and recognised herself in one of the figures. `They
seem to have taken a great delight in painting me since I came to this country,'
she said to herself. `One would think that I and my crutch were put in on
purpose to make that slim, charming young shepherdess in the next picture look
prettier by contrast. Ah! how nice it would be to be as pretty as that.' And
then she looked at herself in a mirror, and turned away quickly with tears in
her eyes from the doleful sight. All at once she became aware that she was not
alone, for behind her stood a tiny old woman in a cap, who was as ugly again as
herself and quite as lame.
`Princess,'
she said, `your regrets are so piteous that I have come to offer you the choice
of goodness or beauty. If you wish to be pretty you shall have your way, but
you will also be vain, capricious, and frivolous. If you remain as you are now,
you shall be wise and amiable and modest.'
`Alas
I madam,' cried the Princess, `is it impossible to be at once wise and
beautiful?'
`No,
child,' answered the old woman, `only to you it is decreed that you must choose
between the two. See, I have brought with me my white and yellow muff. Breathe
upon the yellow side and you will become like the pretty shepherdess you so
much admire, and you will have won the love of the handsome shepherd whose
picture I have already seen you studying with interest. Breathe upon the white
side and your looks will not alter, but you will grow better and happier day by
day. Now you may choose.'
`Ah
well,' said the Princess, `I suppose one can't have everything, and it's
certainly better to be good than pretty.'
And
so she breathed upon the white side of the muff and thanked the old fairy, who
immediately disappeared. The Princess Cabbage-Stalk felt very forlorn when she
was gone, and began to think that it was quite time her father sent an army to
rescue her.
`If
I could but get up into the turret,' she thought, `to see if any one is
coming.' But to climb up there seemed impossible. Nevertheless she presently
hit upon a plan. The great clock was in the turret, as she knew, though the
weights hung down into the gallery. Taking one of them off the rope, she tied
herself on in its place, and when the clock was wound, up she went triumphantly
into the turret. She looked out over the country the first thing, but seeing
nothing she sat down to rest a little, and accidentally leant back against the
wall which Curlicue, or rather Prince Peerless, had so hastily mended. Out fell
the broken stone, and with it the golden key. The clatter it made upon the
floor attracted the Princess Cabbage-Stalk's attention.
She
picked it up, and after a moment's consideration decided that it must belong to
the curious old cabinet in the corner, which had no visible keyhole. And then
it was not long before she had it open, and was admiring the treasures it
contained as much as Prince Peerless had done before her, and at last she came
to the carbuncle box. No sooner had she opened it than with a shudder of horror
she tried to throw it down, but found that some mysterious power compelled her
to hold it against her will. And at this moment a voice in her ear said softly:
`Take
courage, Princess; upon this adventure your future happiness depends.'
`What
am I to do?' said the Princess trembling.
`Take
the box,' replied the voice, `and hide it under your pillow, and when you see
an Eagle, give it to him without losing a moment.'
Terrified
as the Princess was, she did not hesitate to obey, and hastened to put back all
the other precious things precisely as she had found them. By this time her
guards were seeking her everywhere, and they were amazed to find her up in the
turret, for they said she could only have got there by magic. For three days
nothing happened, but at last in the night the Princess heard something flutter
against her window, and drawing back her curtains she saw in the moonlight that
it was an Eagle.
Limping
across at her utmost speed she threw the window open, and the great Eagle
sailed in beating with his wings for joy. The Princess lost no time in offering
it the carbuncle box, which it grasped in its talons, and instantly disappeared,
leaving in its place the most beautiful Prince she had ever seen, who was
splendidly dressed, and wore a diamond crown.
`Princess,'
said he, `for two hundred years has a wicked enchanter kept me here. We both
loved the same Fairy, but she pre-ferred me. However, he was more powerful than
I, and succeeded, when for a moment I was off my guard, in changing me into an
Eagle, while my Queen was left in an enchanted sleep. I knew that after two
hundred years a Prince would recall her to the light of day, and a Princess, in
restoring to me the hand which my enemy had cut off, would give me back my
natural form. The Fairy who watches over your destiny told me this, and it was
she who guided you to the cabinet in the turret, where she had placed my hand.
It is she also who permits me to show my gratitude to you by granting whatever
favour you may ask of me. Tell me, Princess, what is it that you wish for most?
Shall I make you as beautiful as you deserve to be?'
`Ah,
if you only would!' cried the Princess, and at the same moment she heard a
crick-cracking in all her bones. She grew tall and straight and pretty, with
eyes like shining stars, and a skin as white as milk.
`Oh,
wonderful! can this really be my poor little self?' she exclaimed, looking down
in amazement at her tiny worn-out crutch as it lay upon the floor.
`Indeed,
Princess,' replied Florimond, `it is yourself, but you must have a new name,
since the old one does not suit you now. Be called Princess Sunbeam, for you
are bright and charming enough to deserve the name.'
And
so saying he disappeared, and the Princess, without knowing how she got there,
found herself walking under shady trees by a clear river. Of course, the first
thing she did was to look at her own reflection in the water, and she was
extremely surprised to find that she was exactly like the shepherdess she had
so much admired, and wore the same white dress and flowery wreath that she had
seen in the painted windows. To complete the resemblance, her flock of sheep
appeared, grazing round her, and she found a gay crook adorned with flowers
upon the bank of the river. Quite tired out by so many new and wonderful
experiences, the Princess sat down to rest at the foot of a tree, and there she
fell fast asleep. Now it happened that it was in this very country that Prince
Peerless had been set down, and while the Princess Sunbeam was still sleeping
peacefully, he came strolling along in search of a shady pasture for his sheep.
The
moment he caught sight of the Princess he recognised her as the charming
shepherdess whose picture he had seen so often in the tower, and as she was far
prettier than he had remembered her, he was delighted that chance had led him
that way.
He
was still watching her admiringly when the Princess opened her eyes, and as she
also recognised him they were soon great friends. The Princess asked Prince
Peerless, as he knew the country better than she did, to tell her of some
peasant who would give her a lodging, and he said he knew of an old woman whose
cottage would be the very place for her, it was so nice and so pretty. So they
went there together, and the Princess was charmed with the old woman and
everything belonging to her. Supper was soon spread for her under a shady tree,
and she invited the Prince to share the cream and brown bread which the old
woman provided. This he was delighted to do, and having first fetched from his
own garden all the strawberries, cherries, nuts and flowers he could find. they
sat down together and were very merry. After this they met every day as they
guarded their flocks, and were so happy that Prince Peerless begged the
Princess to marry him, so that they might never be parted again. Now though the
Princess Sunbeam appeared to be only a poor shepherdess, she never forgot that
she was a real Princess, and she was not at all sure that she ought to marry a
humble shepherd, though she knew she would like to do so very much.
So
she resolved to consult an Enchanter of whom she had heard a great deal since
she had been a shepherdess, and without saying a word to anybody she set out to
find the castle in which he lived with his sister, who was a powerful Fairy.
The way was long, and lay through a thick wood, where the Princess heard
strange voices calling to her from every side, but she was in such a hurry that
she stopped for nothing, and at last she came to the courtyard of the
Enchanter's castle.
The
grass and briers were growing as high as if it were a hundred years since
anyone had set foot there, but the Princess got through at last, though she
gave herself a good many scratches by the way, and then she went into a dark,
gloomy hall, where there was but one tiny hole in the wall through which the
daylight could enter. The hangings were all of bats' wings, and from the ceiling
hung twelve cats, who filled the hall with their ear piercing yells. Upon the
long table twelve mice were fastened by the tail, and just in front of each
one's nose, but quite beyond its reach, lay a tempting morsel of fat bacon. So
the cats could always see the mice, but could not touch them, and the hungry
mice were tormented by the sight and smell of the delicious morsels which they
could never seize.
The
Princess was looking at the poor creatures in dismay, when the Enchanter
suddenly entered, wearing a long black robe and with a crocodile upon his head.
In his hand he carried a whip made of twenty long snakes, all alive and
writhing, and the Princess was so terrified at the sight that she heartily
wished she had never come. Without saying a word she ran to the door, but it
was covered with a thick spider's web, and when she broke it she found another,
and another, and another. In fact, there was no end to them; the Princess's
arms ached with tearing them down, and yet she was no nearer to getting out,
and the wicked Enchanter behind her laughed maliciously. At last he said:
`You
might spend the rest of your life over that without doing any good, but as you
are young, and quite the prettiest creature I have seen for a long time, I will
marry you if you like, and I will give you those cats and mice that you see
there for your own. They are princes and princesses who have happened to offend
me. They used to love one another as much as they now hate one another. Aha!
It's a pretty little revenge to keep them like that.'
`Oh!
If you would only change me into a mouse too,' cried the Princess.
`Oh!
so you won't marry me?' said he. `Little simpleton, you should have everything
heart can desire.'
`No,
indeed; nothing should make me marry you; in fact, I don't think I shall ever
love anyone,' cried the Princess.
`In
that case,' said the Enchanter, touching her, `you had better become a
particular kind of creature that is neither fish nor fowl; you shall be light
and airy, and as green as the grass you live in. Off with you, Madam
Grasshopper.' And the Princess, rejoicing to find herself free once more,
skipped out into the garden, the prettiest little green Grasshopper in the
world. But as soon as she was safely out she began to be rather sorry for herself.
`Ah!
Florimond,' she sighed, `is this the end of your gift? Certainly beauty is
short-lived, and this funny little face and a green crape dress are a comical
end to it. I had better have married my amiable shepherd. It must be for my
pride that I am condemned to be a Grasshopper, and sing day and night in the
grass by this brook, when I feel far more inclined to cry.'
In
the meantime Prince Peerless had discovered the Princess's absence, and was
lamenting over it by the river's brim, when he suddenly became aware of the
presence of a little old woman. She was quaintly dressed in a ruff and
farthingale, and a velvet hood covered her snow-white hair.
`You
seem sorrowful, my son,' she said. `What is the matter?'
`Alas!
mother,' answered the Prince, `I have lost my sweet shepherdess, but I am
determined to find her again, though I should have to traverse the whole world
in search of her.'
`Go
that way, my son,' said the old woman, pointing towards the path that led to
the castle. `I have an idea that you will soon overtake her.'
The
Prince thanked her heartily and set out. As he met with no hindrance, he soon
reached the enchanted wood which surrounded the castle, and there he thought he
saw the Princess Sunbeam gliding before him among the trees. Prince Peerless
hastened after her at the top of his speed, but could not get any nearer; then
he called to her:
`Sunbeam,
my darling--only wait for me a moment.'
But
the phantom did but fly the faster, and the Prince spent the whole day in this
vain pursuit. When night came he saw the castle before him all lighted up, and
as he imagined that the Princess must be in it, he made haste to get there too.
He entered without difficulty, and in the hall the terrible old Fairy met him.
She was so thin that the light shone through her, and her eyes glowed like
lamps; her skin was like a shark's, her arms were thin as laths, and her
fingers like spindles. Nevertheless she wore rouge and patches, a mantle of
silver brocade and a crown of diamonds, and her dress was covered with jewels,
and green and pink ribbons.
`At
last you have come to see me, Prince,' said she. `Don't waste another thought
upon that little shepherdess, who is unworthy of your notice. I am the Queen of
the Comets, and can bring you to great honour if you will marry me.'
`Marry
you, Madam,' cried the Prince, in horror. `No, I will never consent to that.'
Thereupon
the Fairy, in a rage, gave two strokes of her wand and filled the gallery with
horrible goblins, against whom the Prince had to fight for his life. Though he
had only his dagger, he defended himself so well that he escaped without any
harm, and presently the old Fairy stopped the fray and asked the Prince if he
was still of the same mind. When he answered firmly that he was, she called up
the appearance of the Princess Sunbeam to the other end of the gallery, and
said:
`You
see your beloved there? Take care what you are about, for if you again refuse
to marry me she shall be torn in pieces by two tigers.'
The
Prince was distracted, for he fancied he heard his dear shepherdess weeping and
begging him to save her. In despair he cried:
`Oh,
Fairy Douceline, have you abandoned me after so many promises of friendship?
Help, help us now!'
Immediately
a soft voice said in his ear:
`Be
firm, happen what may, and seek the Golden Branch.'
Thus
encouraged, the Prince persevered in his refusal, and at length the old Fairy
in a fury cried:
`Get
out of my sight, obstinate Prince. Become a Cricket!'
And
instantly the handsome Prince Peerless became a poor little black Cricket,
whose only idea would have been to find himself a cosy cranny behind some
blazing hearth, if he had not luckily remembered the Fairy Douceline's
injunction to seek the Golden Branch.
So
he hastened to depart from the fatal castle, and sought shelter in a hollow
tree, where he found a forlorn looking little Grasshopper crouching in a
corner, too miserable to sing.
Without
in the least expecting an answer, the Prince asked it:
`And
where may you be going, Gammer Grasshopper?'
`Where
are you going yourself, Gaffer Cricket?' replied the Grasshopper.
`What!
can you speak?' said he.
`Why
should I not speak as well as you? Isn't a Grasshopper as good as a Cricket?'
said she.
`I
can talk because I was a Prince,' said the Cricket.
`And
for that very same reason I ought to be able to talk more than you, for I was a
Princess,' replied the Grasshopper.
`Then
you have met with the same fate as I have,' said he. `But where are you going
now? Cannot we journey together?'
`I
seemed to hear a voice in the air which said: ``Be firm, happen what may, and
seek the Golden Branch,'' ' answered the Grasshopper, `and I thought the
command must be for me, so I started at once, though I don't know the way.'
At
this moment their conversation was interrupted by two mice, who, breathless
from running, flung themselves headlong through the hole into the tree, nearly
crushing the Grasshopper and the Cricket, though they got out of the way as fast
as they could and stood up in a dark corner.
`Ah,
Madam,' said the fatter of the two, `I have such a pain in my side from running
so fast. How does your Highness find yourself?'
`I
have pulled my tail off,' replied the younger Mouse, `but as I should still be
on the sorcerer's table unless I had, I do not regret it. Are we pursued, think
you? How lucky we were to escape!'
`I
only trust that we may escape cats and traps, and reach the Golden Branch
soon,' said the fat Mouse.
`You
know the way then?' said the other.
`Oh
dear, yes! as well as the way to my own house, Madam. This Golden Branch is
indeed a marvel, a single leaf from it makes one rich for ever. It breaks
enchantments, and makes all who approach it young and beautiful. We must set
out for it at the break of day.'
`May
we have the honour of travelling with you--this respectable Cricket and
myself?' said the Grasshopper, stepping forward. `We also are on a pilgrimage
to the Golden Branch.'
The
Mice courteously assented, and after many polite speeches the whole party fell
asleep. With the earliest dawn they were on their way, and though the Mice were
in constant fear of being overtaken or trapped, they reached the Golden Branch
in safety.
It
grew in the midst of a wonderful garden, all the paths of which were strewn
with pearls as big as peas. The roses were crimson diamonds, with emerald
leaves. The pomegranates were garnets, the marigolds topazes, the daffodils
yellow diamonds, the violets sapphires, the corn-flowers turquoises, the tulips
amethysts, opals and diamonds, so that the garden borders blazed like the sun.
The Golden Branch itself had become as tall as a forest tree, and sparkled with
ruby cherries to its topmost twig. No sooner had the Grasshopper and the Cricket
touched it than they were restored to their natural forms, and their surprise
and joy were great when they recognised each other. At this moment Florimond
and the Fairy Douceline appeared in great splendour, and the Fairy, as she
descended from her chariot, said with a smile:
`So
you two have found one another again, I see, but I have still a surprise left
for you. Don't hesitate, Princess, to tell your devoted shepherd how dearly you
love him, as he is the very Prince your father sent you to marry. So come here
both of you and let me crown you, and we will have the wedding at once.'
The
Prince and Princess thanked her with all their hearts, and declared that to her
they owed all their happiness, and then the two Princesses, who had so lately
been Mice, came and begged that the Fairy would use her power to release their
unhappy friends who were still under the Enchanter's spell.
`Really,'
said the Fairy Douceline, `on this happy occasion I cannot find it in my heart
to refuse you anything.' And she gave three strokes of her wand upon the Golden
Branch, and immediately all the prisoners in the Enchanter's castle found
themselves free, and came with all speed to the wonderful garden, where one
touch of the Golden Branch restored each one to his natural form, and they
greeted one another with many rejoicings. To complete her generous work the
Fairy presented them with the wonderful cabinet and all the treasures it
contained, which were worth at least ten kingdoms. But to Prince Peerless and
the Princess Sunbeam she gave the palace and garden of the Golden Branch,
where, immensely rich and greatly beloved by all their subjects, they lived
happily ever after.[18]
[18]
Le Rameau d'Or. Par Madame d'Aulnoy,
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f23]
THE
THREE DWARFS
THERE
was once upon a time a man who lost his wife, and a woman who lost her husband;
and the man had a daughter and so had the woman. The two girls were great
friends and used often to play together. One day the woman turned to the man's
daughter and said:
`Go
and tell your father that I will marry him, and then you shall wash in milk and
drink wine, but my own daughter shall wash in water and drink it too.'
The
girl went straight home and told her father what the woman had said.
`What
am I to do?' he answered. `Marriage is either a success or it is a failure.'
At
last, being of an undecided character and not being able to make up his mind,
he took off his boot, and handing it to his daughter, said:
`Take
this boot which has a hole in the sole, hang it up on a nail in the hayloft,
and pour water into it. If it holds water I will marry again, but if it doesn't
I won't.' The girl did as she was bid, but the water drew the hole together and
the boot filled up to the very top. So she went and told her father the result.
He got up and went to see for himself, and when he saw that it was true and no
mistake, he accepted his fate, proposed to the widow, and they were married at
once.
On
the morning after the wedding, when the two girls awoke, milk was standing for
the man's daughter to wash in and wine for her to drink; but for the woman's
daughter, only water to wash in and only water to drink. On the second morning,
water to wash in and water to drink was standing for the man's daughter as
well. And on the third morning, water to wash in and water to drink was
standing for the man's daughter, and milk to wash in and wine to drink for the
woman's daughter; and so it continued ever after. The woman hated her
stepdaughter from the bottom of her heart, and did all she could to make her
life miserable. She was as jealous as she could possibly be, because the girl
was so beautiful and charming, while her own daughter was both ugly and
repulsive.
One
winter's day when there was a hard frost, and mountain and valley were covered
with snow, the woman made a dress of paper, and calling the girl to her said:
`There,
put on this dress and go out into the wood and fetch me a basket of
strawberries!'
`Now
Heaven help us,' replied her stepdaughter; `strawberries don't grow in winter;
the earth is all frozen and the snow has covered up everything; and why send me
in a paper dress? it is so cold outside that one's very breath freezes; the
wind will whistle through my dress, and the brambles tear it from my body.'
`How
dare you contradict me!' said her stepmother; `be off with you at once, and
don't show your face again till you have filled the basket with strawberries.'
Then
she gave her a hard crust of bread, saying:
`That
will be enough for you to-day,' and she thought to herself: `The girl will
certainly perish of hunger and cold outside, and I shan't be bothered with her
any more.'
The
girl was so obedient that she put on the paper dress and set out with her
little basket. There was nothing but snow far and near, and not a green blade
of grass to be seen anywhere. When she came to the wood she saw a little house,
and out of it peeped three little dwarfs. She wished them good-day, and knocked
modestly at the door. They called out to her to enter, so she stepped in and
sat down on a seat by the fire, wishing to warm herself and eat her breakfast.
The Dwarfs said at once: `Give us some of your food!'
`Gladly,'
she said, and breaking her crust in two, she gave them the half.
Then
they asked her what she was doing in the depths of winter in her thin dress.
`Oh,'
she answered, `I have been sent to get a basketful of strawberries, and I
daren't show my face again at home till I bring them with me.'
When
she had finished her bread they gave her a broom and told her to sweep away the
snow from the back door. As soon as she left the room to do so, the three
little men consulted what they should give her as a reward for being so sweet
and good, and for sharing her last crust with them.
The
first said: `Every day she shall grow prettier.'
The
second: `Every time she opens her mouth a piece of gold shall fall out.'
And
the third: `A King shall come and marry her.'
The
girl in the meantime was doing as the Dwarfs had bidden her, and was sweeping
the snow away from the back door, and what do you think she found there?--heaps
of fine ripe strawberries that showed out dark red against the white snow. She
joyfully picked enough to fill her basket, thanked the little men for their
kindness, shook hands with them, and ran home to bring her stepmother what she
had asked for. When she walked in and said; Good evening,' a piece of gold fell
out of her mouth. Then she told what had hap-pened to her in the wood, and at
every word pieces of gold dropped from her mouth, so that the room was soon
covered with them.
`She's
surely more money than wit to throw gold about like that,' said her stepsister,
but in her secret heart she was very jealous, and determined that she too would
go to the wood and look for strawberries. But her mother refused to let her go,
saying:
`My
dear child, it is far too cold; you might freeze to death.'
The
girl however left her no peace, so she was forced at last to give in, but she
insisted on her putting on a beautiful fur cloak, and she gave her bread and
butter and cakes to eat on the way.
The
girl went straight to the little house in the wood, and as before the three
little men were looking out of the window. She took no notice of them, and
without as much as `By your leave,' or `With your leave,' she flounced into the
room, sat herself down at the fire, and began to eat her bread and butter and
cakes.
`Give
us some,' cried the Dwarfs.
But
she answered: `No, I won't, it's hardly enough for myself; so catch me giving
you any.'
When
she had finished eating they said:
`There's
a broom for you, go and clear up our back door.'
`I'll
see myself further,' she answered rudely. `Do it yourselves; I'm not your
servant.'
When
she saw that they did not mean to give her anything, she left the house in no
amiable frame of mind. Then the three little men consulted what they should do
to her, because she was so bad and had such an evil, covetous heart, that she
grudged everybody their good fortune.
The
first said: `She shall grow uglier every day.'
The
second: `Every time she speaks a toad shall jump out of her mouth.'
And
the third: `She shall die a most miserable death.'
The
girl searched for strawberries, but she found none, and returned home in a very
bad temper. When she opened her mouth to tell her mother what had befallen her
in the wood, a toad jumped out, so that everyone was quite disgusted with her.
Then
the stepmother was more furious than ever, and did nothing but plot mischief
against the man's daughter, who was daily growing more and more beautiful. At
last, one day the wicked woman took a large pot, put it on the fire and boiled
some yarn in it. When it was well scalded she hung it round the poor girl's
shoulder, and giving her an axe, she bade her break a hole in the frozen river,
and rinse the yarn in it. Her stepdaughter obeyed as usual, and went and broke
a hole in the ice. When she was in the act of wringing out the yarn a
magnificent carriage passed, and the King sat inside. The carriage stood still,
and the King asked her:
`My
child, who are you, and what in the wide world are you doing here?'
`I
am only a poor girl,' she answered, `and am rinsing out my yarn in the river.'
Then the King was sorry for her, and when he saw how beautiful she was he said:
`Will
you come away with me?'
`Most
gladly,' she replied, for she knew how willingly she would leave her stepmother
and sister, and how glad they would be to be rid of her.
So
she stepped into the carriage and drove away with the King, and when they
reached his palace the wedding was celebrated with much splendour. So all
turned out just as the three little Dwarfs had said. After a year the Queen
gave birth to a little son. When her stepmother heard of her good fortune she
came to the palace with her daughter by way of paying a call, and took up her
abode there. Now one day, when the King was out and nobody else near, the bad
woman took the Queen by her head, and the daughter took her by her heels, and
they dragged her from her bed, and flung her out of the window into the stream
which flowed beneath it. Then the stepmother laid her ugly daughter in the
Queen's place, and covered her up with the clothes, so that nothing of her was
seen. When the King came home and wished to speak to his wife the woman called
out:
`Quietly,
quietly I this will never do; your wife is very ill, you must let her rest all
to-day.' The King suspected no evil, and didn't come again till next morning. When
he spoke to his wife and she answered him, instead of the usual piece of gold a
toad jumped out of her mouth. Then he asked what it meant, and the old woman
told him it was nothing but weakness, and that she would soon be all right
again.
But
that same evening the scullion noticed a duck swimming up the gutter, saying as
it passed:
`What
does the King, I pray you tell, Is he awake or sleeps he well?'
and
receiving no reply, it continued:
`And
all my guests, are they asleep?'
and
the Scullion answered:
`Yes,
one and all they slumber deep.'
Then
the Duck went on:
`And
what about my baby dear?'
and
he answered:
`Oh,
it sleeps soundly, never fear.'
Then
the Duck assumed the Queen's shape, went up to the child's room, tucked him up
comfortably in his cradle, and then swam back down the gutter again, in the
likeness of a Duck. This was repeated for two nights, and on the third the Duck
said to the Scullion:
`Go
and tell the King to swing his sword three times over me on the threshold.'
The
Scullion did as the creature bade him, and the King came with his sword and
swung it three times over the bird, and lo and behold! his wife stood before
him once more, alive, and as blooming as ever.
The
King rejoiced greatly, but he kept the Queen in hiding till the Sunday on which
the child was to be christened. After the christening he said:
`What
punishment does that person deserve who drags another out of bed, and throws
him or her, as the case may be, into the water?'
Then
the wicked old stepmother answered:
`No
better fate than to be put into a barrel lined with sharp nails, and to be
rolled in it down the hill into the water.'
`You
have pronounced your own doom,' said the King; and he ordered a barrel to be
made lined with sharp nails, and in it he put the bad old woman and her
daughter. Then it was fastened down securely, and the barrel was rolled down
the hill till it fell into the river.[19]
[19]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f24]
DAPPLEGRIM
THERE
was once upon a time a couple of rich folks who had twelve sons, and when the
youngest was grown up he would not stay at home any longer, but would go out
into the world and seek his fortune. His father and mother said that they
thought he was very well off at home, and that he was welcome to stay with
them; but ho could not rest, and said that he must and would go, so at last
they had to give him leave. When he had walked a long way, he came to a King's
palace. There he asked for a place and got it.
Now
the daughter of the King of that country had been carried off into the
mountains by a Troll, and the King had no other children, and for this cause
both he and all his people were full of sorrow and affliction, and the King had
promised the Princess and half his kingdom to anyone who could set her free;
but there was no one who could do it, though a great number had tried. So when
the youth had been there for the space of a year or so, he wanted to go home
again to pay his parents a visit; but when he got there his father and mother
were dead, and his brothers had divided everything that their parents possessed
between themselves, so that there was nothing at all left for him.
`Shall
I, then, receive nothing at all of my inheritance?' asked the youth.
`Who
could know that you were still alive--you who have been a wanderer so long?'
answered the brothers. `However, there are twelve mares upon the hills which we
have not yet divided among us, and if you would like to have them for your
share, you may take them.'
So
the youth, well pleased with this, thanked them, and at once set off to the
hill where the twelve mares were at pasture. When he got up there and found
them, each mare had her foal, and by the side of one of them was a big
dapple-grey foal as well. which was so sleek that it shone again.
`Well,
my little foal, you are a fine fellow!' said the youth.
`Yes,
but if you will kill all the other little foals so that I can suck all the
mares for a year, you shall see how big and handsome I shall be then!' said the
Foal.
So
the youth did this--he killed all the twelve foals, and then went back again.
Next
year, when he came home again to look after his mares and the foal, it was as
fat as it could be, and its coat shone with brightness, and it was so big that
the lad had the greatest difficulty in getting on its back, and each of the
mares had another foal. `Well, it's very evident that I have lost nothing by
letting you suck all my mares,' said the lad to the yearling; `but now you are
quite big enough, and must come away with me.'
`No,'
said the Colt, `I must stay here another year; kill the twelve little foals,
and then I can suck all the mares this year also, and you shall see how big and
handsome I shall be by summer.'
So
the youth did it again, and when he went up on the hill next year to look after
his colt and the mares, each of the mares had her foal again; but the dappled
colt was so big that when the lad wanted to feel its neck to see how fat it
was, he could not reach up to it, it was so high? and it was so bright that the
light glanced off its coat.
`Big
and handsome you were last year, my colt, but this year you are ever so much
handsomer,' said the youth; `in all the King's court no such horse is to be
found. But now you shall come away with me.'
`No,'
said the dappled Colt once more; `here I must stay for another year. Just kill
the twelve little foals again, so that I can suck the mares this year also, and
then come and look at me in the summer.'
So
the youth did it--he killed all the little foals, and then went home again.
But
next year, when he returned to look after the dappled colt and the mares, he
was quite appalled. He had never imagined that any horse could become so big
and overgrown, for the dappled horse had to lie down on all fours before the
youth could get on his back, and it was very hard to do that even when it was
lying down, and it was so plump that its coat shone and glistened just as if it
had been a looking-glass. This time the dappled horse was not unwilling to go
away with the youth, so he mounted it, and when he came riding home to his
brothers they all smote their hands together and crossed themselves, for never
in their lives had they either seen or heard tell of such a horse as that.
`If
you will procure me the best shoes for my horse, and the most magnificent
saddle and bridle that can be found,' said the youth, `you may have all my
twelve mares just as they are standing out on the hill, and their twelve foals
into the bargain.' For this year also each mare had her foal. The brothers were
quite willing to do this; so the lad got such shoes for his horse that the
sticks and stones flew high up into the air as he rode away over the hills, and
such a gold saddle and such a gold bridle that they could be seen glittering
and glancing from afar.
`And
now we will go to the King's palace,' said Dapplegrim--that was the horse's
name, `but bear in mind that you must ask the King for a good stable and excellent
fodder for me.'
So
the lad promised not to forget to do that. He rode to the palace, and it will
be easily understood that with such a horse as he had he was not long on the
way.
When
he arrived there, the King was standing out on the steps, and how he did stare
at the man who came riding up!
`Nay,'
said he, `never in my whole life have I seen such a man and such a horse.'
And
when the youth inquired if he could have a place in the King's palace, the King
was so delighted that he could have danced on the steps where he was standing,
and there and then the lad was told that he should have a place.
`Yes;
but I must have a good stable and most excellent fodder for my horse,' said he.
So
they told him that he should have sweet hay and oats, and as much of them as
the dappled horse chose to have, and all the other riders had to take their
horses out of the stable that Dapplegrim might stand alone and really have
plenty of room.
But
this did not last long, for the other people in the King's Court became envious
of the lad, and there was no bad thing that they would not have done to him if
they had but dared. At last they bethought themselves of telling the King that
the youth had said that, if he chose, he was quite able to rescue the Princess
who had been carried off into the mountain a long time ago by the Troll.
The
King immediately summoned the lad into his presence, and said that he had been
informed that he had said that it was in his power to rescue the Princess, so
he was now to do it. If he succeeded in this, he no doubt knew that the King
had promised his daughter and half the kingdom to anyone who set her free,
which promise should be faithfully and honourably kept, but if he failed he
should be put to death. The youth denied that he had said this, but all to no
purpose, for the King was deaf to all his words; so there was nothing to be
done but say that he would make the attempt.
He
went down into the stable, and very sad and full of care he was. Then
Dapplegrim inquired why he was so troubled, and the youth told him, and said
that he did not know what to do, `for as to setting the Princess free, that was
downright impossible.'
`Oh,
but it might be done,' said Dapplegrim. `I will help you; but you must first
have me well shod. You must ask for ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of
steel for the shoeing, and one smith to hammer and one to hold.'
So
the youth did this, and no one said him nay. He got both the iron and the
steel, and the smiths, and thus was Dapplegrim shod strongly and well, and when
the youth went out of the King's palace a cloud of dust rose up behind him. But
when he came to the mountain into which the Princess had been carried, the
difficulty was to ascend the precipitous wall of rock by which he was to get on
to the mountain beyond, for the rock stood right up on end, as steep as a house
side and as smooth as a sheet of glass. The first time the youth rode at it he
got a little way up the precipice, but then both Dapplegrim's fore legs
slipped, and down came horse and rider with a sound like thunder among the
mountains. The next time that he rode at it he got a little farther up, but
then one of Dapplegrim's fore legs slipped, and down they went with the sound
of a landslip. But the third time Dapplegrim said: `Now we must show what we
can do,' and went at it once more till the stones sprang up sky high, and thus
they got up. Then the lad rode into the mountain cleft at full gallop and
caught up the Princess on his saddle-bow, and then out again before the Troll
even had time to stand up, and thus the Princess was set free.
When
the youth returned to the palace the King was both happy and delighted to get
his daughter back again, as may easily be believed, but somehow or other the
people about the Court had so worked on him that he was angry with the lad too.
`Thou shalt have my thanks for setting my Princess free,' he said, when the
youth came into the palace with her, and was then about to go away.
She
ought to be just as much my Princess as she is yours now, for you are a man of
your word,' said the youth.
`Yes,
yes,' said the King. `Have her thou shalt, as I have said it; but first of all
thou must make the sun shine into my palace here.'
For
there was a large and high hill outside the windows which overshadowed the
palace so much that the sun could not shine in.
`That
was no part of our bargain,' answered the youth. `But as nothing that I can say
will move you, I suppose I shall have to try to do my best, for the Princess I
will have.'
So
he went down to Dapplegrim again and told him what the King desired, and
Dapplegrim thought that it might easily be done; but first of all he must have
new shoes, and ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel must go to the
making of them, and two smiths were also necessary, one to hammer and one to
hold, and then it would be very easy to make the sun shine into the King's
palace.
The
lad asked for these things and obtained them instantly, for the King thought
that for very shame he could not refuse to give them, and so Dapplegrim got new
shoes, and they were good ones. The youth seated himself on him, and once more
they went their way, and for each hop that Dapplegrim made, down went the hill
fifteen ells into the earth, and so they went on until there was no hill left
for the King to see.
When
the youth came down again to the King's palace he asked the King if the
Princess should not at last be his, for now no one could say that the sun was
not shining into the palace. But the other people in the palace had again
stirred up the King, and he answered that the youth should have her, and that
he had never intended that he should not; but first of all he must get her
quite as good a horse to ride to the wedding on as that which he had himself. The
youth said that the King had never told him he was to do that, and it seemed to
him that he had now really earned the Princess; but the King stuck to what he
had said, and if the youth were unable to do it he was to lose his life, the
King said. The youth went down to the stable again, and very sad and sorrowful
he was, as anyone may well imagine. Then he told Dapplegrim that the King had
now required that he should get the Princess as good a bridal horse as that
which the bridegroom had, or he should lose his life. `But that will be no easy
thing to do,' said he, `for your equal is not to be found in all the world,'
`Oh
yes, there is one to match me,' said Dapplegrim. `But it will not be easy to
get him, for he is underground. However, we will try. Now you must go up to the
King and ask for new shoes for me, and for them we must again have ten pounds
of iron, twelve pounds of steel, and two smiths, one to hammer and one to hold,
but be very particular to see that the hooks are very sharp. And you must also
ask for twelve barrels of rye, and twelve slaughtered oxen must we have with
us, and all the twelve ox-hides with twelve hundred spikes set in each of them;
all these things must we have, likewise a barrel of tar with twelve tons of tar
in it. The youth went to the King and asked for all the things that Dapplegrim
had named, and once more, as the King thought that it would be disgraceful to
refuse them to him, he obtained them all.
So
he mounted Dapplegrim and rode away from the Court, and when he had ridden for
a long, long time over hills and moors, Dapplegrim asked: `Do you hear
anything?'
`Yes;
there is such a dreadful whistling up above in the air that I think I am
growing alarmed,' said the youth.
`That
is all the wild birds in the forest flying about; they are sent to stop us,'
said Dapplegrim. `But just cut a hole in the corn sacks, and then they will be
so busy with the corn that they will forget us.'
The
youth did it. He cut holes in the corn sacks so that barley and rye ran out on every
side, and all the wild birds that were in the forest came in such numbers that
they darkened the sun. But when they caught sight of the corn they could not
refrain from it, but flew down and began to scratch and pick at the corn and
rye, and at last they began to fight among themselves, and forgot all about the
youth and Dapplegrim, and did them no harm.
And
now the youth rode onwards for a long, long time, over hill and dale, over
rocky places and morasses, and then Dapplegrim began to listen again, and asked
the youth if he heard anything now.
`Yes;
now I hear such a dreadful crackling and crashing in the forest on every side
that I think I shall be really afraid,' said the youth.
`That
is all the wild beasts in the forest,' said Dapplegrim; `they are sent out to
stop us. But just throw out the twelve carcasses of the oxen, and they will be
so much occupied with them that they will quite forget us.' So the youth threw
out the carcasses of the oxen, and then all the wild beasts in the forest, both
bears and wolves, and lions, and grim beasts of all kinds, came. But when they
caught sight of the carcasses of the oxen they began to fight for them till the
blood flowed, and they entirely forgot Dapplegrim and the youth.
So
the youth rode onwards again, and many and many were the new scenes they saw,
for travelling on Dapplegrim's back was not travelling slowly, as may be
imagined, and then Dapplegrim neighed.
`Do
you hear anything? he said.
`Yes;
I heard something like a foal neighing quite plainly a long, long way off,'
answered the youth.
`That's
a full-grown colt,' said Dapplegrim, `if you hear it so plainly when it is so
far away from us.'
So
they travelled onwards a long time, and saw one new scene after another once
more. Then Dapplegrim neighed again.
`Do
you hear anything now?' said he.
`Yes;
now I heard it quite distinctly, and it neighed like a full-grown horse,'
answered the youth.
`Yes,
and you will hear it again very soon,' said Dapplegrim; `and then you will hear
what a voice it has.' So they travelled on through many more different kinds of
country, and then Dapplegrim neighed for the third time; but before he could
ask the youth if he heard anything, there was such a neighing on the other side
of the heath that the youth thought that hills and rocks would be rent in
pieces.
`Now
he is here!' said Dapplegrim. `Be quick, and fling over me the ox-hides that
have the spikes in them, throw the twelve tons of tar over the field, and climb
up into that great spruce fir tree. When he comes, fire will spurt out of both
his nostrils, and then the tar will catch fire. Now mark what I say--if the
flame ascends I conquer, and if it sinks I fail; but if you see that I am
winning, fling the bridle, which you must take off me, over his head, and then
he will become quite gentle.'
Just
as the youth had flung all the hides with the spikes over Dapplegrim, and the
tar over the field, and had got safely up into the spruce fir, a horse came
with flame spouting from his nostrils, and the tar caught fire in a moment; and
Dapplegrim and the horse began to fight until the stones leapt up to the sky.
They bit, and they fought with their fore legs and their hind legs, and
sometimes the youth looked at them. and sometimes he looked at the tar, but at
last the flames began to rise, for wheresoever the strange horse bit or
wheresoever he kicked he hit upon the spikes in the hides, and at length he had
to yield. When the youth saw that, he was not long in getting down from the
tree and flinging the bridle over the horse's head, and then he became so tame
that he might have been led by a thin string.
This
horse was dappled too, and so like Dapplegrim that no one could distinguish the
one from the other. The youth seated himself on the dappled horse which he had
captured, and rode home again to the King's palace, and Dapplegrim ran loose by
his side. When he got there, the King was standing outside in the courtyard.
`Can
you tell me which is the horse I have caught, and which is the one I had
before?' said the youth. `If you can't, I think your daughter is mine.'
The
King went and looked at both the dappled horses; he looked high and he looked
low, he looked before and he looked behind, but there was not a hair's
difference between the two.
`No,'
said the King; `that I cannot tell thee, and as thou hast procured such a
splendid bridal horse for my daughter thou shalt have her; but first we must
have one more trial, just to see if thou art fated to have her. She shall hide
herself twice, and then thou shalt hide thyself twice. If thou canst find her
each time that she hides herself, and if she cannot find thee in thy
hiding-places, then it is fated, and thou shalt have the Princess.'
`That,
too, was not in our bargain,' said the youth. `But we will make this trial
since it must be so.'
So
the King's daughter was to hide herself first.
Then
she changed herself into a duck, and lay swimming in a lake that was just
outside the palace. But the youth went down into the stable and asked
Dapplegrim what she had done with herself.
`Oh,
all that you have to do is to take your gun, and go down to the water and aim
at the duck which is swimming about there, and she will soon discover herself,'
said Dapplegrim.
The
youth snatched up his gun and ran to the lake. `I will just have a shot at that
duck,' said he, and began to aim at it.
`Oh,
no, dear friend, don't shoot! It is I,' said the Princess. So he had found her
once.
The
second time the Princess changed herself into a loaf, and laid herself on the
table among four other loaves; and she was so like the other loaves that no one
could see any difference between them.
But
the youth again went down to the stable to Dapplegrim, and told him that the
Princess had hidden herself again, and that he had not the least idea what had
become of her.
`Oh,
just take a very large bread-knife, sharpen it, and pretend that you are going
to cut straight through the third of the four loaves which are lying on the
kitchen table in the King's palace --count them from right to left--and you
will soon find her,' said Dapplegrim.
So
the youth went up to the kitchen, and began to sharpen the largest bread-knife
that he could find; then he caught hold of the third loaf on the left-hand
side, and put the knife to it as if he meant to cut it straight in two. `I will
have a bit of this bread for myself,' said he.
`No,
dear friend, don't cut, it is I!' said the Princess again; so he had found her
the second time.
And
now it was his turn to go and hide himself; but Dapplegrim had given him such
good instructions that it was not easy to find him. First he turned himself
into a horse-fly, and hid himself in Dapplegrim's left nostril. The Princess
went poking about and searching everywhere, high and low, and wanted to go into
Dapplegrim's stall too, but he began to bite and kick about so that she was
afraid to go there, and could not find the youth. `Well,' said she, `as I am
unable to find you, you must show yourself; `whereupon the youth immediately appeared
standing there on the stable floor.
Dapplegrim
told him what he was to do the second time, and he turned himself into a lump
of earth, and stuck himself between the hoof and the shoe on Dapplegrim's left
fore foot. Once more the King's daughter went and sought everywhere, inside and
outside, until at last she came into the stable, and wanted to go into the
stall beside Dapplegrim. So this time he allowed her to go into it, and she
peered about high and low, but she could not look under his hoofs, for he stood
much too firmly on his legs for that, and she could not find the youth.
`Well,
you will just have to show where you are yourself, for I can't find you,' said
the Princess, and in an instant the youth was standing by her side on the floor
of the stable.
`Now
you are mine!' said he to the Princess.
`Now
you can see that it is fated that she should be mine,' he said to the King.
`Yes,
fated it is,' said the King. `So what must be, must.'
Then
everything was made ready for the wedding with great splendour and promptitude,
and the youth rode to church on Dapplegrim, and the King's daughter on the
other horse. So everyone must see that they could not be long on their way
thither.[20]
[20]
From J. Moe,
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f25]
THE
ENCHANTED CANARY
I
ONCE
upon a time, in the reign of King Cambrinus, there lived at Avesnes one of his
lords, who was the finest man--by which I mean the fattest--in the whole
country of Flanders. He ate four meals a day, slept twelve hours out of the
twenty-four, and the only thing he ever did was to shoot at small birds with
his bow and arrow.
Still,
with all his practice he shot very badly, he was so fat and heavy, and as he
grew daily fatter, he was at last obliged to give up walking, and be dragged
about in a wheel-chair, and the people made fun of him, and gave him the name
of my Lord Tubby.
Now,
the only trouble that Lord Tubby had was about his son, whom he loved very
much, although they were not in the least alike, for the young Prince was as
thin as a cuckoo. And what vexed him more than all was, that though the young
ladies throughout all his lands did their best to make the Prince fall in love
with them, he would have nothing to say to any of them, and told his father he
did not wish to marry.
Instead
of chatting with them in the dusk, he wandered about the woods, whispering to
the moon. No wonder the young ladies thought him very odd, but they liked him
all the better for that; and as he had received at his birth the name of
Desire, they all called him d'Amour Desire.
`What
is the matter with you?' his father often said to him. `You have everything you
can possibly wish for: a good bed, good food, and tuns full of beer. The only thing
you want, in order to become as fat as a pig, is a wife that can bring you
broad, rich lands. So marry, and you will be perfectly happy.'
`I
ask nothing better than to marry,' replied Desire, `but I have never seen a
woman that pleases me. All the girls here are pink and white, and I am tired to
death of their eternal lilie and roses.
`My
faith!' cried Tubby; `do you want to marry a negress, and give me grandchildren
as ugly as monkeys and as stupid as owls?'
`No,
father, nothing of the sort. But there must be women somewhere in the world who
are neither pink nor white, and I tell you, once for all, that I will never
marry until I have found one exactly to my taste.'
II
Some
time afterwards, it happened that the Prior of the Abbey of Saint Amand sent to
the Lord of Avesnes a basket of oranges, with a beautifully-written letter
saying that these golden fruit, then unknown in Flanders, came straight from a
land where the sun always shone.
That
evening Tubby and his son ate the golden apples at supper, and thought them
delicious.
Next
morning as the day dawned, Desire went down to the stable and saddled his
pretty white horse. Then he went, all dressed for a journey, to the bedside of
Tubby, and found him smoking his first pipe.
`Father,'
he said gravely, `I have come to bid you farewell. Last night I dreamed that I
was walking in a wood, where the trees were covered with golden apples. I
gathered one of them, and when I opened it there came out a lovely princess
with a golden skin. That is the wife I want, and I am going to look for her.'
The
Lord of Avesnes was so much astonished that he let his pipe fall to the ground;
then he became so diverted at the notion of his son marrying a yellow woman,
and a woman shut up inside an orange, that he burst into fits of laughter.
Desire
waited to bid him good-bye until he was quiet again; but as his father went on
laughing and showed no signs of stopping, the young man took his hand, kissed
it tenderly, opened the door, and in the twinkling of an eye was as at the
bottom of the staircase. He jumped lightly on his horse, and was a mile from
home before Tubby had ceased laughing.
`A
yellow wife! He must be mad! fit for a strait waistcoat!' cried the good man,
when he was able to speak. `Here! quick! bring him back to me.'
The
servants mounted their horses and rode after the Prince; but as they did not
know which road he had taken, they went all ways except the right one, and
instead of bringing him back they returned themselves when it grew dark, with
their horses worn out and covered with dust.
III
When
Desire thought they could no longer catch him, he pulled his horse into a walk,
like a prudent man who knows he has far to go. He travelled in this way for
many weeks, passing by villages, towns, mountains, valleys, and plains, but
always pushing south, where every day the sun seemed hotter and more brilliant.
At
last one day at sunset Desire felt the sun so warm, that he thought he must now
be near the place of his dream. He was at that moment close to the corner of a
wood where stood a little hut, before the door of which his horse stopped of
his own accord. An old man with a white beard was sitting on the doorstep
enjoying the fresh air. The Prince got down from his horse and asked leave to
rest.
`Come
in, my young friend,' said the old man; `my house is not large, but it is big
enough to hold a stranger.'
The
traveller entered, and his host put before him a simple meal. When his hunger
was satisfied the old man said to him:
`If
I do not mistake, you come from far. May I ask where you are going?'
`I
will tell you,' answered Desire, `though most likely you will laugh at me. I
dreamed that in the land of the sun there was a wood full of orange trees, and
that in one of the oranges I should find a beautiful princess who is to be my
wife. It is she I am seeking.'
`Why
should I laugh?' asked the old man. `Madness in youth is true wisdom. Go, young
man, follow your dream, and if you do not find the happiness that you seek, at
any rate you will have had the happiness of seeking it.'
IV
The
next day the Prince arose early and took leave of his host.
`The
wood that you saw in your dream is not far from here,' said the old man. `It is
in the depth of the forest, and this road will lead you there. You will come to
a vast park surrounded by high walls. In the middle of the park is a castle,
where dwells a horrible witch who allows no living being to enter the doors.
Behind the castle is the orange grove. Follow the wall till you come to a heavy
iron gate. Don't try to press it open, but oil the hinges with this,' and the
old man gave him a small bottle.
`The
gate will open of itself,' he continued, `and a huge dog which guards the
castle will come to you with his mouth wide open, but just throw him this oat
cake. Next, you will see a baking woman leaning over her heated oven. Give her
this brush. Lastly, you will find a well on your left; do not forget to take
the cord of the bucket and spread it in the sun. When you have done this, do
not enter the castle, but go round it and enter the orange grove. Then gather
three oranges, and get back to the gate as fast as you can. Once out of the
gate, leave the forest by the opposite side.
`Now,
attend to this: whatever happens, do not open your oranges till you reach the
bank of a river, or a fountain. Out of each orange will come a princess, and
you can choose which you like for your wife. Your choice once made, be very
careful never to leave your bride for an instant, and remember that the danger
which is most to be feared is never the danger we are most afraid of.'
V
Desire
thanked his host warmly, and took the road he pointed out. In less than an hour
he arrived at the wall, which was very high indeed. He sprang to the ground,
fastened his horse to a tree, and soon found the iron gate. Then he took out
his bottle and oiled the hinges, when the gate opened of itself, and he saw an
old castle standing inside. The Prince entered boldly into the courtyard.
Suddenly
he heard fierce howls, and a dog as tall as a donkey, with eyes like billiard
balls, came towards him, showing his teeth, which were like the prongs of a
fork. Desire flung him the oat cake, which the great dog instantly snapped up,
and the young Prince passed quietly on.
A
few yards further he saw a huge oven, with a wide, red-hot gaping mouth. A
woman as tall as a giant was leaning over the oven. Desire gave her the brush,
which she took in silence.
Then
he went on to the well, drew up the cord, which was half rotten, and stretched
it out in the sun.
Lastly
he went round the castle, and plunged into the orange grove. There he gathered
the three most beautiful oranges he could find, and turned to go back to the
gate.
But
just at this moment the sun was darkened, the earth trembled, and Desire heard
a voice crying:
`Baker,
baker, take him by his feet, and throw him into the oven!'
`No,'
replied the baker; `a long time has passed since I first began to scour this
oven with my own flesh. YOU never cared to give me a brush; but he has given me
one, and he shall go in peace.'
`Rope,
O rope!' cried the voice again, `twine yourself round his neck and strangle
him.'
`No,'
replied the rope; `you have left me for many years past to fall to pieces with
the damp. He has stretched me out in the sun. Let him go in peace.'
`Dog,
my good dog,' cried the voice, more and more angry, `jump at his throat and eat
him up.'
`No,'
replied the dog; `though I have served you long, you never
gave
me any bread. He has given me as much as I want. Let him go in peace.'
`Iron
gate, iron gate,' cried the voice, growling like thunder, `fall on him and
grind him to powder.'
`No,'
replied the gate; `it is a hundred years since you left me to rust, and he has
oiled me. Let him go in peace.'
VI
Once
outside, the young adventurer put his oranges into a bag that hung from his
saddle, mounted his horse, and rode quickly out of the forest.
Now,
as he was longing to see the princesses, he was very anxious to come to a river
or a fountain, but, though he rode for hours, a river or fountain was nowhere
to be seen. Still his heart was light, for he felt that he had got through the
most difficult part of his task, and the rest was easy.
About
mid-day he reached a sandy plain, scorching in the sun. Here he was seized with
dreadful thirst; he took his gourd and raised it to his lips.
But
the gourd was empty; in the excitement of his joy he had forgotten to fill it.
He rode on, struggling with his sufferings, but at last he could bear it no
longer.
He
let himself slide to the earth, and lay down beside his horse, his throat
burning, his chest heaving, and his head going round. Already he felt that
death was near him, when his eyes fell on the bag where the oranges peeped out.
Poor
Desire, who had braved so many dangers to win the lady of his dreams, would
have given at this moment all the princesses in the world, were they pink or
golden, for a single drop of water.
`Ah!'
he said to himself. `If only these oranges were real fruit--fruit as refreshing
as what I ate in Flanders! And, after all, who knows?'
This
idea put some life into him. He had the strength to lift himself up and put his
hand into his bag. He drew out an orange and opened it with his knife.
Out
of it flew the prettiest little female canary that ever was seen.
`Give
me something to drink, I am dying of thirst,' said the golden bird.
`Wait
a minute,' replied Desire, so much astonished that he forgot his own
sufferings; and to satisfy the bird he took a second orange, and opened it
without thinking what he was doing. Out of it flew another canary, and she too
began to cry:
`I
am dying of thirst; give me something to drink.'
Then
Tubby's son saw his folly, and while the two canaries flew away he sank on the
ground, where, exhausted by his last effort, he lay unconscious.
VII
When
he came to himself, he had a pleasant feeling of freshness all about him. It
was night, the sky was sparkling with stars, and the earth was covered with a
heavy dew.
The
traveller having recovered, mounted his horse, and at the first streak of dawn
he saw a stream dancing in front of him, and stooped down and drank his fill.
He
hardly had courage to open his last orange. Then he remembered that the night
before he had disobeyed the orders of the old man. Perhaps his terrible thirst
was a trick of the cunning witch, and suppose, even though he opened the orange
on the banks of the stream, that he did not find in it the princess that he
sought?
He
took his knife and cut it open. Alas! out of it flew a little canary, just like
the others, who cried:
`I
am thirsty; give me something to drink.'
Great
was the disappointment of Desire. However, he was determined not to let this
bird fly away; so he took up some water in the palm of his hand and held it to
its beak.
Scarcely
had the canary drunk when she became a beautiful girl, tall and straight as a
poplar tree, with black eyes and a golden skin. Desire had never seen anyone
half so lovely, and he stood gazing at her in delight.
On
her side she seemed quite bewildered, but she looked about her with happy eyes,
and was not at all afraid of her deliverer.
He
asked her name. She answered that she was called the Princess Zizi; she was
about sixteen years old, and for ten years of that time the witch had kept her
shut up in an orange, in the shape of a canary.
`Well,
then, my charming Zizi,' said the young Prince, who was longing to marry her,
`let us ride away quickly so as to escape from the wicked witch.'
But
Zizi wished to know where he meant to take her.
`To
my father's castle,' he said.
He
mounted his horse and took her in front of him, and, holding her carefully in
his arms, they began their journey.
VIII
Everything
the Princess saw was new to her, and in passing through mountains, valleys, and
towns, she asked a thousand questions. Desire was charmed to answer them. It is
so delightful to teach those one loves!
Once
she inquired what the girls in his country were like.
`They
are pink and white,' he replied, `and their eyes are blue.'
`Do
you like blue eyes?' said the Princess; but Desire thought it was a good
opportunity to find out what was in her heart, so he did not answer.
`And
no doubt,' went on the Princess, `one of them is your intended bride?'
Still
he was silent, and Zizi drew herself up proudly.
`No,'
he said at last. `None of the girls of my own country are beautiful in my eyes,
and that is why I came to look for a wife in the land of the sun. Was I wrong,
my lovely Zizi?'
This
time it was Zizi's turn to be silent.
IX
Talking
in this way they drew near to the castle. When they were about four
stone-throws from the gates they dismounted in the forest, by the edge of a
fountain.
`My
dear Zizi,' said Tubby's son, `we cannot present ourselves before my father
like two common people who have come back from a walk. We must enter the castle
with more ceremony. Wait for me here, and in an hour I will return with
carriages and horses fit for a princess.'
`Don't
be long,' replied Zizi, and she watched him go with wistful eyes.
When
she was left by herself the poor girl began to feel afraid. She was alone for
the first time in her life, and in the middle of a thick forest.
Suddenly
she heard a noise among the trees. Fearing lest it should be a wolf, she hid
herself in the hollow trunk of a willow tree which hung over the fountain. It
was big enough to hold her altogether, but she peeped out, and her pretty head
was reflected in the clear water.
Then
there appeared, not a wolf, but a creature quite as wicked and quite as ugly.
Let us see who this creature was.
X
Not
far from the fountain there lived a family of bricklayers. Now, fifteen years
before this time, the father in walking through the forest found a little girl,
who had been deserted by the gypsies. He carried her home to his wife, and the
good woman was sorry for her, and brought her up with her own sons. As she grew
older, the little gypsy became much more remarkable for strength and cunning
than for sense or beauty. She had a low forehead, a flat nose, thick lips,
coarse hair, and a skin not golden like that of Zizi, but the colour of clay.
As
she was always being teased about her complexion, she got as noisy and cross as
a titmouse. So they used to call her Titty.
Titty
was often sent by the bricklayer to fetch water from the fountain, and as she
was very proud and lazy the gypsy disliked this very much.
It
was she who had frightened Zizi by appearing with her pitcher on her shoulder.
Just as she was stooping to fill it, she saw reflected in the water the lovely
image of the Princess.
`What
a pretty face!' she exclaimed, `Why, it must be mine! How in the world can they
call me ugly? I am certainly much too pretty to be their water carrier!'
So
saying, she broke her pitcher and went home.
`Where
is your pitcher?' asked the bricklayer.
`Well,
what do you expect? The pitcher may go many times to the well. . . .'
`But
at last it is broken. Well, here is a bucket that will not break.'
The
gypsy returned to the fountain, and addressing once more the image of Zizi, she
said:
`No;
I don't mean to be a beast of burden any longer.' And she flung the bucket so
high in the air that it stuck in the branches of an oak.
`I
met a wolf,' she told the bricklayer, `and I broke the bucket across his nose.'
The
bricklayer asked her no more questions, but took down a broom and gave her such
a beating that her pride was humbled a little.
Then
he handed to her an old copper milk-can, and said:
`If
you don't bring it back full, your bones shall suffer for it.'
XI
Titty
went off rubbing her sides; but this time she did not dare to disobey, and in a
very bad temper stooped down over the well. It was not at all easy to fill the
milk-can, which was large and round. It would not go down into the well, and
the gypsy had to try again and again.
At
last her arms grew so tired that when she did manage to get the can properly
under the water she had no strength to pull it up, and it rolled to the bottom.
On
seeing the can disappear, she made such a miserable face that Zizi, who had
been watching her all this time, burst into fits of laughter.
Titty
turned round and perceived the mistake she had made; and she felt so angry that
she made up her mind to be revenged at once.
`What
are you doing there, you lovely creature?' she said to Zizi.
`I
am waiting for my lover,' Zizi replied; and then, with a simplicity quite
natural in a girl who so lately had been a canary, she told all her story.
The
gypsy had often seen the young Prince pass by, with his gun on his shoulder,
when he was going after crows. She was too ugly and ragged for him ever to have
noticed her, but Titty on her side had admired him, though she thought he might
well have been a little fatter.
`Dear,
dear!' she said to herself. `So he likes yellow women! Why, I am yellow too,
and if I could only think of a way----'
It
was not long before she did think of it.
`What!'
cried the sly Titty, `they are coming with great pomp to fetch you, and you are
not afraid to show yourself to so many fine lords and ladies with your hair
down like that? Get down at once, my poor child, and let me dress your hair for
you!'
The
innocent Zizi came down at once, and stood by Titty. The gypsy began to comb
her long brown locks, when suddenly she drew a pin from her stays, and, just as
the titmouse digs its beak into the heads of linnets and larks, Titty dug the
pin into the head of Zizi.
No
sooner did Zizi feel the prick of the pin than she became a bird again, and,
spreading her wings, she flew away.
`That
was neatly done,' said the gypsy. `The Prince will be clever if he finds his
bride.' And, arranging her dress, she seated herself on the grass to await
Desire.
XII
Meanwhile
the Prince was coming as fast as his horse could carry him. He was so impatient
that he was always full fifty yards in front of the lords and ladies sent by
Tubby to bring back Zizi.
At
the sight of the hideous gypsy he was struck dumb with surprise and horror.
`Ah
me!' said Titty, `so you don't know your poor Zizi? While you were away the
wicked witch came, and turned me into this. But if you only have the courage to
marry me I shall get back my beauty.' And she began to cry bitterly.
Now
the good-natured Desire was as soft-hearted as he was brave.
`Poor
girl,' he thought to himself. `It is not her fault, after all, that she has
grown so ugly, it is mine. Oh! why did I not follow the old man's advice? Why
did I leave her alone? And besides, it depends on me to break the spell, and I
love her too much to let her remain like this.'
So
he presented the gypsy to the lords and ladies of the Court, explaining to them
the terrible misfortune which had befallen his beautiful bride.
They
all pretended to believe it, and the ladies at once put on the false princess
the rich dresses they had brought for Zizi.
She
was then perched on the top of a magnificent ambling palfrey, and they set
forth to the castle.
But
unluckily the rich dress and jewels only made Titty look uglier still, and
Desire could not help feeling hot and uncomfortable when he made his entry with
her into the city.
Bells
were pealing, chimes ringing, and the people filling the streets and standing
at their doors to watch the procession go by, and they could hardly believe
their eyes as they saw what a strange bride their Prince had chosen.
In
order to do her more honour, Tubby came to meet her at the foot of the great
marble staircase. At the sight of the hideous creature he almost fell
backwards.
`What!'
he cried. `Is this the wonderful beauty?'
`Yes,
father, it is she,' replied Desire with a sheepish look. `But she has been
bewitched by a wicked sorceress, and will not regain her beauty until she is my
wife.'
`Does
she say so? Well, if you believe that, you may drink cold water and think it
bacon,' the unhappy Tubby answered crossly.
But
all the same, as he adored his son, he gave the gypsy his hand and led her to
the great hall, where the bridal feast was spread.
XIII
The
feast was excellent, but Desire hardly touched anything. However, to make up,
the other guests ate greedily, and, as for Tubby, nothing ever took away his
appetite.
When
the moment arrived to serve the roast goose, there was a pause, and Tubby took
the opportunity to lay down his knife and fork for a little. But as the goose
gave no sign of appearing, he sent his head carver to find out what was the
matter in the kitchen.
Now
this was what had happened.
While
the goose was turning on the spit, a beautiful little canary hopped on to the
sill of the open window.
`Good-morning,
my fine cook,' she said in a silvery voice to the man who was watching the
roast.
`Good-morning,
lovely golden bird,' replied the chief of the scullions, who had been well
brought up.
`I
pray that Heaven may send you to sleep,' said the golden bird, `and that the
goose may burn, so that there may be none left for Titty.'
And
instantly the chief of the scullions fell fast asleep, and the goose was burnt
to a cinder.
When
he awoke he was horrified, and gave orders to pluck another goose, to stuff it
with chestnuts, and put it on the spit.
While
it was browning at the fire, Tubby inquired for his goose a second time. The
Master Cook himself mounted to the hall to make his excuses, and to beg his
lord to have a little patience. Tubby showed his patience by abusing his son.
`As
if it wasn't enough,' he grumbled between his teeth, `that the boy should pick
up a hag without a penny, but the goose must go and burn now. It isn't a wife
he has brought me, it is Famine herself.'
XIV
While
the Master Cook was upstairs, the golden bird came again to perch on the
window-sill, and called in his clear voice to the head scullion, who was
watching the spit:
`Good-morning,
my fine Scullion!'
`Good-morning,
lovely Golden Bird,' replied the Scullion, whom the Master Cook had forgotten
in his excitement to warn.
`I
pray Heaven,' went on the Canary, `that it will send you to sleep, and that the
goose may burn, so that there may be none left for Titty.'
And
the Scullion fell fast asleep, and when the Master Cook came back he found the
goose as black as the chimney.
In
a fury he woke the Scullion, who in order to save himself from blame told the
whole story.
`That
accursed bird,' said the Cook; `it will end by getting me sent away. Come, some
of you, and hide yourselves, and if it comes again, catch it and wring its
neck.'
He
spitted a third goose, lit a huge fire, and seated himself by it.
The
bird appeared a third time, and said: `Good-morning, my fine Cook.'
`Good-morning,
lovely Golden Bird,' replied the Cook, as if nothing had happened, and at the
moment that the Canary was beginning, `I pray Heaven that it may send,' a
scullion who was hidden outside rushed out and shut the shutters. The bird flew
into the kitchen. Then all the cooks and scullions sprang after it, knocking at
it with their aprons. At length one of them caught it just at the very moment
that Tubby entered the kitchen, waving his sceptre. He had come to see for
himself why the goose had never made its appearance.
The
Scullion stopped at once, just as he was about to wring the Canary's neck.
XV
`Will
some one be kind enough to tell me the meaning of all this?' cried the Lord of
Avesnes.
`Your
Excellency, it is the bird,' replied the Scullion, and he placed it in his
hand.
`Nonsense!
What a lovely bird!' said Tubby, and in stroking its head he touched a pin that
was sticking between its feathers. He pulled it out, and lo! the Canary at once
became a beautiful girl with a golden skin who jumped lightly to the ground.
`Gracious!
what a pretty girl!' said Tubby.
`Father!
it is she! it is Zizi!' exclaimed Desire, who entered at this moment.
And
he took her in his arms, crying: `My darling Zizi, how happy I am to see you
once more!'
`Well,
and the other one?' asked Tubby.
The
other one was stealing quietly to the door.
`Stop
her! called Tubby. `We will judge her cause at once.'
And
he seated himself solemnly on the oven, and condemned Titty to be burned alive.
After which the lords and cooks formed themselves in lines, and Tubby betrothed
Desire to Zizi.
XVI
The
marriage took place a few days later. All the boys in the country side were
there, armed with wooden swords, and decorated with epaulets made of gilt
paper.
Zizi
obtained Titty's pardon, and she was sent back to the brick-fields, followed
and hooted at by all the boys. And this is why to-day the country boys always
throw stones at a titmouse.
On
the evening of the wedding-day all the larders, cellars, cupboards and tables
of the people, whether rich or poor, were loaded as if by enchantment with
bread, wine, beer, cakes and tarts, roast larks, and even geese, so that Tubby
could not complain any more that his son had married Famine.
Since
that time there has always been plenty to eat in that country, and since that
time, too, you see in the midst of the fair-haired blue-eyed women of Flanders
a few beautiful girls, whose eyes are black and whose skins are the colour of
gold. They are the descendants of Zizi.[21]
[21]
Charles Deulin, Contes du Roi Gambrinus.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f26]
THE
TWELVE BROTHERS
THERE
were once upon a time a King and a Queen who lived happily together, and they
had twelve children, all of whom were boys. One day the King said to his wife:
`If
our thirteenth child is a girl, all her twelve brothers must die, so that she
may be very rich and the kingdom hers alone.'
Then
he ordered twelve coffins to be made, and filled them with shavings, and placed
a little pillow in each. These he put away in an empty room, and, giving the
key to his wife, he bade her tell no one of it.
The
Queen grieved over the sad fate of her sons and refused to be comforted, so
much so that the youngest boy, who was always with her, and whom she had
christened Benjamin, said to her one day:
`Dear
mother, why are you so sad?'
`My
child,' she answered, `I may not tell you the reason.'
But
he left her no peace, till she went and unlocked the room and showed him the
twelve coffins filled with shavings, and with the little pillow laid in each.
Then
she said: `My dearest Benjamin, your father has had these coffins made for you
and your eleven brothers, because if I bring a girl into the world you are all
to be killed and buried in them.'
She
wept bitterly as she spoke, but her son comforted her and said:
`Don't
cry, dear mother; we'll manage to escape somehow, and will fly for our lives.'
`Yes,'
replied his mother, `that is what you must do--go with your eleven brothers out
into the wood, and let one of you always sit on the highest tree you can find,
keeping watch on the tower of the castle. If I give birth to a little son I
will wave a white flag, and then you may safely return; but if I give birth to
a little daughter I will wave a red flag, which will warn you to fly away as
quickly as you can, and may the kind Heaven have pity on you. Every night I
will get up and pray for you, in winter that you may always have a fire to warm
yourselves by, and in summer that you may not languish in the heat.'
Then
she blessed her sons and they set out into the wood. They found a very high oak
tree, and there they sat, turn about, keeping their eyes always fixed on the
castle tower. On the twelfth day, when the turn came to Benjamin, he noticed a
flag waving in the air, but alas! it was not white, but blood red, the sign
which told them they must all die. When the brothers heard this they were very
angry, and said:
`Shall
we forsooth suffer death for the sake of a wretched girl? Let us swear
vengeance, and vow that wherever and whenever we shall meet one of her sex, she
shall die at our hands.'
Then
they went their way deeper into the wood, and in the middle of it, where it was
thickest and darkest, they came upon a little enchanted house which stood
empty.
`Here,'
they said, `let us take up our abode, and you, Benjamin, you are the youngest
and weakest, you shall stay at home and keep house for us; we others will go
out and fetch food.' So they went forth into the wood, and shot hares and
roe-deer, birds and wood-pigeons, and any other game they came across. They
always brought their spoils home to Benjamin, who soon learnt to make them into
dainty dishes. So they lived for ten years in this little house, and the time
slipped merrily away.
In
the meantime their little sister at home was growing up quickly. She was
kind-hearted and of a fair countenance, and she had a gold star right in the
middle of her forehead. One day a big washing was going on at the palace, and
the girl looking down from her window saw twelve men's shirts hanging up to
dry, and asked her mother:
`Who
in the world do these shirts belong to? Surely they are far too small for my
father?'
And
the Queen answered sadly: `Dear child, they belong to your twelve brothers.'
`But
where are my twelve brothers?' said the girl. `I have never even heard of
them.'
`Heaven
alone knows in what part of the wide world they are wandering,' replied her
mother.
Then
she took the girl and opened the locked-up room; she showed her the twelve
coffins filled with shavings, and with the little pillow laid in each.
`These
coffins,' she said, `were intended for your brothers, but they stole secretly
away before you were born.'
Then
she to tell her all that had happened, and when she had finished her daughter
said:
`Do
not cry, dearest mother; I will go and seek my brothers till I find them.'
So
she took the twelve shirts and went on straight into the middle of the big
wood. She walked all day long, and came in the evening to the little enchanted
house. She stepped in and found a youth who, marvelling at her beauty, at the
royal robes she wore, and at the golden star on her forehead, asked her where
she came from and whither she was going.
`I
am a Princess,' she answered, `and am seeking for my twelve brothers. I mean to
wander as far as the blue sky stretches over the earth till I find them.'
Then
she showed him the twelve shirts which she had taken with her, and Benjamin saw
that it must be his sister, and said:
`I
am Benjamin, your youngest brother.'
So
they wept for joy, and kissed and hugged each other again and again. After a
time Benjamin said:
`Dear
sister, there is still a little difficulty, for we had all agreed that any girl
we met should die at our hands, because it was for the sake of a girl that we
had to leave our kingdom.'
`But,'
she replied, `I will gladly die if by that means I can restore my twelve
brothers to their own.'
`No,'
he answered, `there is no need for that; only go and hide under that tub till
our eleven brothers come in, and I'll soon make matters right with them.'
She
did as she was bid, and soon the others came home from the chase and sat down
to supper.
`Well,
Benjamin, what's the news?' they asked. But he replied, `I like that; have you
nothing to tell me?'
`No,'
they answered.
Then
he said: `Well, now, you've been out in the wood all the day and I've stayed
quietly at home, and all the same I know more than you do.'
`Then
tell us,' they cried.
But
he answered: `Only on condition that you promise faithfully that the first girl
we meet shall not be killed.'
`She
shall be spared,' they promised, `only tell us the news.'
Then
Benjamin said: `Our sister is here!' and he lifted up the tub and the Princess
stepped forward, with her royal robes and with the golden star on her forehead,
looking so lovely and sweet and charming that they all fell in love with her on
the spot.
They
arranged that she should stay at home with Benjamin and help him in the house
work, while the rest of the brothers went out into the wood and shot hares and
roe-deer, birds and wood-pigeons. And Benjamin and his sister cooked their
meals for them. She gathered herbs to cook the vegetables in, fetched the wood,
and watched the pots on the fire, and always when her eleven brothers returned
she had their supper ready for them. Besides this, she kept the house in order,
tidied all the rooms, and made herself so generally useful that her brothers
were delighted, and they all lived happily together.
One
day the two at home prepared a fine feast, and when they were all assembled they
sat down and ate and drank and made merry.
Now
there was a little garden round the enchanted house, in which grew twelve tall
lilies. The girl, wishing to please her brothers, plucked the twelve flowers,
meaning to present one to each of them as they sat at supper. But hardly had
she plucked the flowers when her brothers were turned into twelve ravens, who
flew croaking over the wood, and the house and garden vanished also.
So
the poor girl found herself left all alone in the wood, and as she looked round
her she noticed an old woman standing close beside her, who said:
`My
child, what have you done? Why didn't you leave the flowers alone? They were
your twelve brothers. Now they are changed for ever into ravens.'
The
girl asked, sobbing: `Is there no means of setting them free?'
`No,'
said the old woman, `there is only one way in the whole world, and that is so
difficult that you won't free them by it, for you would have to be dumb and not
laugh for seven years, and if you spoke a single word, though but an hour were
wanting to the time, your silence would all have been in vain, and that one
word would slay your brothers.'
Then
the girl said to herself: `If that is all I am quite sure I can free my
brothers.' So she searched for a high tree, and when she had found one she
climbed up it and spun all day long, never laughing or speaking one word.
Now
it happened one day that a King who was hunting in the wood had a large
greyhound, who ran sniffing to the tree on which the girl sat, and jumped round
it, yelping and barking furiously. The King's attention was attracted, and when
he looked up and beheld the beautiful Princess with the golden star on her
forehead, he was so enchanted by her beauty that he asked her on the spot to be
his wife. She gave no answer, but nodded slightly with her head. Then he
climbed up the tree himself, lifted her down, put her on his horse and bore her
home to his palace.
The
marriage was celebrated with much pomp and ceremony, but the bride neither
spoke nor laughed.
When
they had lived a few years happily together, the King's mother, who was a
wicked old woman, began to slander the young Queen, and said to the King:
`She
is only a low-born beggar maid that you have married; who knows what mischief
she is up to? If she is deaf and can't speak, she might at least laugh; depend
upon it, those who don't laugh have a bad conscience.' At first the King paid
no heed to her words, but the old woman harped so long on the subject, and
accused the young Queen of so many bad things, that at last he let himself be
talked over, and condemned his beautiful wife to death.
So
a great fire was lit in the courtyard of the palace, where she was to be burnt,
and the King watched the proceedings from an upper window, crying bitterly the
while, for he still loved his wife dearly. But just as she had been bound to
the stake, and the flames were licking her garments with their red tongues, the
very last moment of the seven years had come. Then a sudden rushing sound was
heard in the air, and twelve ravens were seen flying overhead. They swooped
downwards, and as soon as they touched the ground they turned into her twelve
brothers, and she knew that she had freed them.
They
quenched the flames and put out the fire, and, unbinding their dear sister from
the stake. they kissed and hugged her again and again. And now that she was
able to open her mouth and speak, she told the King why she had been dumb and
not able to laugh.
The
King rejoiced greatly when he heard she was innocent, and they all lived
happily ever afterwards.[22]
[22]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f27]
RAPUNZEL
ONCE
upon a time there lived a man and his wife who were very unhappy because they
had no children. These good people had a little window at the back of their
house, which looked into the most lovely garden, full of all manner of
beautiful flowers and vegetables; but the garden was surrounded by a high wall,
and no one dared to enter it, for it belonged to a witch of great power, who
was feared by the whole world. One day the woman stood at the window
overlooking the garden, and saw there a bed full of the finest rampion: the
leaves looked so fresh and green that she longed to eat them. The desire grew
day by day, and just because she knew she couldn't possibly get any, she pined
away and became quite pale and wretched. Then her husband grew alarmed and
said:
`What
ails you, dear wife?'
`Oh,'
she answered, `if I don't get some rampion to eat out of the garden behind the
house, I know I shall die.'
The
man, who loved her dearly, thought to himself, `Come! rather than let your wife
die you shall fetch her some rampion, no matter the cost.' So at dusk he
climbed over the wall into the witch's garden, and, hastily gathering a handful
of rampion leaves, he returned with them to his wife. She made them into a
salad, which tasted so good that her longing for the forbidden food was greater
than ever. If she were to know any peace of mind, there was nothing for it but
that her husband should climb over the garden wall again, and fetch her some
more. So at dusk over he got, but when he reached the other side he drew back
in terror, for there, standing before him, was the old witch.
`How
dare you,' she said, with a wrathful glance, `climb into my garden and steal my
rampion like a common thief? You shall suffer for your foolhardiness.'
`Oh!'
he implored, `pardon my presumption; necessity alone drove me to the deed. My
wife saw your rampion from her window, and conceived such a desire for it that
she would certainly have died if her wish had not been gratified.' Then the
Witch's anger was a little appeased, and she said:
`If
it's as you say, you may take as much rampion away with you as you like, but on
one condition only--that you give me the child your wife will shortly bring
into the world. All shall go well with it, and I will look after it like a
mother.'
The
man in his terror agreed to everything she asked, and as soon as the child was
born the Witch appeared, and having given it the name of Rapunzel, which is the
same as rampion, she carried it off with her.
Rapunzel
was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old the
Witch shut her up in a tower, in the middle of a great wood, and the tower had
neither stairs nor doors, only high up at the very top a small window. When the
old Witch wanted to get in she stood underneath and called out:
`Rapunzel,
Rapunzel, Let down your golden hair,'
for
Rapunzel had wonderful long hair, and it was as fine as spun gold. Whenever she
heard the Witch's voice she unloosed her plaits, and let her hair fall down out
of the window about twenty yards below, and the old Witch climbed up by it.
After
they had lived like this for a few years, it happened one day that a Prince was
riding through the wood and passed by the tower. As he drew near it he heard
someone singing so sweetly that he stood still spell-bound, and listened. It
was Rapunzel in her loneliness trying to while away the time by letting her
sweet voice ring out into the wood. The Prince longed to see the owner of the
voice, but he sought in vain for a door in the tower. He rode home, but he was
so haunted by the song he had heard that he returned every day to the wood and
listened. One day, when he was standing thus behind a tree, he saw the old
Witch approach and heard her call out:
`Rapunzel,
Rapunzel, Let down your golden hair.'
Then
Rapunzel let down her plaits, and the Witch climbed up by them.
`So
that's the staircase, is it?' said the Prince. `Then I too will climb it and
try my luck.'
So
on the following day, at dusk, he went to the foot of the tower and cried:
`Rapunzel,
Rapunzel, Let down your golden hair,'
and
as soon as she had let it down the Prince climbed up.
At
first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man came in, for she had never
seen one before; but the Prince spoke to her so kindly, and told her at once
that his heart had been so touched by her singing, that he felt he should know
no peace of mind till he had seen her. Very soon Rapunzel forgot her fear, and
when he asked her to marry him she consented at once. `For,' she thought, `he
is young and handsome, and I'll certainly be happier with him than with the old
Witch.' So she put her hand in his and said:
`Yes,
I will gladly go with you, only how am I to get down out of the tower? Every
time you come to see me you must bring a skein of silk with you, and I will
make a ladder of them, and when it is finished I will climb down by it, and you
will take me away on your horse.'
They
arranged that till the ladder was ready, he was to come to her every evening,
because the old woman was with her during the day. The old Witch, of course,
knew nothing of what was going on, till one day Rapunzel, not thinking of what
she was about, turned to the Witch and said:
`How
is it, good mother, that you are so much harder to pull up than the young
Prince? He is always with me in a moment.'
`Oh!
you wicked child,' cried the Witch. `What is this I hear? I thought I had
hidden you safely from the whole world, and in spite of it you have managed to
deceive me.'
In
her wrath she seized Rapunzel's beautiful hair, wound it round and round her
left hand, and then grasping a pair of scissors in her right, snip snap, off it
came, and the beautiful plaits lay on the ground. And, worse than this, she was
so hard-hearted that she took Rapunzel to a lonely desert place, and there left
her to live in loneliness and misery.
But
on the evening of the day in which she had driven poor Rapunzel away, the Witch
fastened the plaits on to a hook in the window, and when the Prince came and
called out:
`Rapunzel,
Rapunzel, Let down your golden hair,'
she
let them down, and the Prince climbed up as usual, but instead of his beloved
Rapunzel he found the old Witch, who fixed her evil, glittering eyes on him,
and cried mockingly:
`Ah,
ah! you thought to find your lady love, but the pretty bird has flown and its
song is dumb; the cat caught it, and will scratch out your eyes too. Rapunzel
is lost to you for ever--you will never see her more.'
The
Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he jumped right down
from the tower, and, though he escaped with his life, the thorns among which he
fell pierced his eyes out. Then he wandered, blind and miserable, through the
wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and weeping and lamenting the loss
of his lovely bride. So he wandered about for some years, as wretched and
unhappy as he could well be, and at last he came to the desert place where
Rapunzel was living. Of a sudden he heard a voice which seemed strangely
familiar to him. He walked eagerly in the direction of the sound, and when he
was quite close, Rapunzel recognised him and fell on his neck and wept. But two
of her tears touched his eyes, and in a moment they became quite clear again,
and he saw as well as he had ever done. Then he led her to his kingdom, where
they were received and welcomed with great joy, and they lived happily ever
after.[23]
[23]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f28]
THE
NETTLE SPINNER
I
ONCE
upon a time there lived at Quesnoy, in Flanders, a great lord whose name was
Burchard, but whom the country people called Burchard the Wolf. Now Burchard
had such a wicked, cruel heart, that it was whispered how he used to harness
his peasants to the plough, and force them by blows from his whip to till his
land with naked feet.
His
wife, on the other hand, was always tender and pitiful to the poor and
miserable.
Every
time that she heard of another misdeed of her husband's she secretly went to
repair the evil, which caused her name to be blessed throughout the whole
country-side. This Countess was adored as much as the Count was hated.
II
One
day when he was out hunting the Count passed through a forest, and at the door
of a lonely cottage he saw a beautiful girl spinning hemp.
`What
is your name?' he asked her.
`Renelde,
my lord.'
`You
must get tired of staying in such a lonely place?'
`I
am accustomed to it, my lord, and I never get tired of it.'
`That
may be so; but come to the castle, and I will make you lady's maid to the
Countess.'
`I
cannot do that, my lord. I have to look after my grandmother, who is very
helpless.'
`Come
to the castle, I tell you. I shall expect you this evening,' and he went on his
way.
But
Renelde, who was betrothed to a young wood-cutter called Guilbert, had no
intention of obeying the Count, and she had, besides, to take care of her
grandmother.
Three
days later the Count again passed by.
`Why
didn't you come?' he asked the pretty spinner.
`I
told you, my lord, that I have to look after my grandmother.' `Come to-morrow,
and I will make you lady-in-waiting to the Countess,' and he went on his way.
This
offer produced no more effect than the other, and Renelde did not go to the
castle.
`If
you will only come,' said the Count to her when next he rode by, `I will send
away the Countess, and will marry you.'
But
two years before, when Renelde's mother was dying of a long illness, the
Countess had not forgotten them, but had given help when they sorely needed it.
So even if the Count had really wished to marry Renelde, she would always have
refused.
III
Some
weeks passed before Burchard appeared again.
Renelde
hoped she had got rid of him, when one day he stopped at the door, his duck-gun
under his arm and his game-bag on his shoulder. This time Renelde was spinning
not hemp, but flax.
`What
are you spinning?' he asked in a rough voice.
`My
wedding shift, my lord.'
`You
are going to be married, then?'
`Yes,
my lord, by your leave.'
For
at that time no peasant could marry without the leave of his master.
`I
will give you leave on one condition. Do you see those tall nettles that grow
on the tombs in the churchyard? Go and gather them, and spin them into two fine
shifts. One shall be your bridal shift, and the other shall be my shroud. For
you shall be married the day that I am laid in my grave.' And the Count turned
away with a mocking laugh.
Renelde
trembled. Never in all Locquignol had such a thing been heard of as the
spinning of nettles.
And
besides, the Count seemed made of iron and was very proud of his strength, often
boasting that he should live to be a hundred.
Every
evening, when his work was done, Guilbert came to visit his future bride. This
evening he came as usual, and Renelde told him what Burchard had said.
`Would
you like me to watch for the Wolf, and split his skull with a blow from my
axe?'
`No,'
replied Renelde, `there must be no blood on my bridal bouquet. And then we must
not hurt the Count. Remember how good the Countess was to my mother.'
An
old, old woman now spoke: she was the mother of Renelde's grandmother, and was
more than ninety years old. All day long she sat in her chair nodding her head
and never saying a word.
`My
children,' she said, `all the years that I have lived in the world, I have
never heard of a shift spun from nettles. But what God commands, man can do.
Why should not Renelde try it?'
IV
Renelde
did try, and to her great surprise the nettles when crushed and prepared gave a
good thread, soft and light and firm. Very soon she had spun the first shift,
which was for her own wedding. She wove and cut it out at once, hoping that the
Count would not force her to begin the other. Just as she had finished sewing
it, Burchard the Wolf passed by.
`Well,'
said he, `how are the shifts getting on?'
`Here,
my lord, is my wedding garment,' answered Renelde, showing him the shift, which
was the finest and whitest ever seen.
The
Count grew pale, but he replied roughly, `Very good. Now begin the other.'
The
spinner set to work. As the Count returned to the castle, a cold shiver passed
over him, and he felt, as the saying is, that some one was walking over his
grave. He tried to eat his supper, but could not; he went to bed shaking with
fever. But he did not sleep, and in the morning could not manage to rise.
This
sudden illness, which every instant became worse, made him very uneasy. No
doubt Renelde's spinning-wheel knew all about it. Was it not necessary that his
body, as well as his shroud, should be ready for the burial?
The
first thing Burchard did was to send to Renelde and to stop her wheel.
Renelde
obeyed, and that evening Guilbert asked her:
`Has
the Count given his consent to our marriage?'
`No,'
said Renelde.
`Continue
your work, sweetheart. It is the only way of gaining it. You know he told you
so himself.'
V
The
following morning, as soon as she had put the house in order, the girl sat down
to spin. Two hours after there arrived some soldiers, and when they saw her
spinning they seized her, tied her arms and legs, and carried her to the bank
of the river, which was swollen by the late rains.
When
they reached the bank they flung her in, and watched her sink, after which they
left her. But Renelde rose to the surface, and though she could not swim she
struggled to land.
Directly
she got home she sat down and began to spin.
Again
came the two soldiers to the cottage and seized the girl, carried her to the
river bank, tied a stone to her neck and flung her into the water.
The
moment their backs were turned the stone untied itself. Renelde waded the ford,
returned to the hut, and sat down to spin.
This
time the Count resolved to go to Locquignol himself; but, as he was very weak
and unable to walk, he had himself borne in a litter. And still the spinner
spun.
When
he saw her he fired a shot at her, as he would have fired at a wild beast. The
bullet rebounded without harming the spinner, who still spun on.
Burchard
fell into such a violent rage that it nearly killed him. He broke the wheel
into a thousand pieces, and then fell fainting on the ground. He was carried
back to the castle, unconscious.
The
next day the wheel was mended, and the spinner sat down to spin. Feeling that
while she was spinning he was dying, the Count ordered that her hands should be
tied, and that they should not lose sight of her for one instant.
But
the guards fell asleep, the bonds loosed themselves, and the spinner spun on.
Burchard
had every nettle rooted up for three leagues round. Scarcely had they been torn
from the soil when they sowed themselves afresh, and grew as you were looking
at them.
They
sprung up even in the well-trodden floor of the cottage, and as fast as they
were uprooted the distaff gathered to itself a supply of nettles, crushed,
prepared, and ready for spinning.
And
every day Burchard grew worse, and watched his end approaching.
VI
Moved
by pity for her husband, the Countess at last found out the cause of his
illness, and entreated him to allow himself to be cured. But the Count in his
pride refused more than ever to give his consent to the marriage.
So
the lady resolved to go without his knowledge to pray for mercy from the
spinner, and in the name of Renelde's dead mother she besought her to spin no
more. Renelde gave her promise, but in the evening Guilbert arrived at the
cottage. Seeing that the cloth was no farther advanced than it was the evening
before, he inquired the reason. Renelde confessed that the Countess had prayed
her not to let her husband die.
`Will
he consent to our marriage?'
`No.'
`Let
him die then.'
`But
what will the Countess say?'
`The
Countess will understand that it is not your fault; the Count alone is guilty
of his own death.'
`Let
us wait a little. Perhaps his heart may be softened.'
So
they waited for one month, for two, for six, for a year. The spinner spun no
more. The Count had ceased to persecute her, but he still refused his consent
to the marriage. Guilbert became impatient.
The
poor girl loved him with her whole soul, and she was more unhappy than she had
been before, when Burchard was only tormenting her body.
`Let
us have done with it,' said Guilbert.
`Wait
a little still,' pleaded Renelde.
But
the young man grew weary. He came more rarely to Locquignol, and very soon he
did not come at all. Renelde felt as if her heart would break, but she held
firm.
One
day she met the Count. She clasped her hands as if in prayer, and cried:
`My
lord, have mercy!'
Burchard
the Wolf turned away his head and passed on.
She
might have humbled his pride had she gone to her spinning-wheel again, but she
did nothing of the sort.
Not
long after she learnt that Guilbert had left the country. He did not even come
to say good-bye to her, but, all the same, she knew the day and hour of his
departure, and hid herself on the road to see him once more.
When
she came in she put her silent wheel into a corner, and cried for three days
and three nights.
VII
So
another year went by. Then the Count fell ill, and the Countess supposed that
Renelde, weary of waiting, had begun her spinning anew; but when she came to
the cottage to see, she found the wheel silent.
However,
the Count grew worse and worse till he was given up by the doctors. The passing
bell was rung, and he lay expecting Death to come for him. But Death was not so
near as the doctors thought, and still he lingered.
He
seemed in a desperate condition, but he got neither better nor worse. He could
neither live nor die; he suffered horribly, and called loudly on Death to put
an end to his pains.
In
this extremity he remembered what he had told the little spinner long ago. If
Death was so slow in coming, it was because he was not ready to follow him,
having no shroud for his burial.
He
sent to fetch Renelde, placed her by his bedside, and ordered her at once to go
on spinning his shroud.
Hardly
had the spinner begun to work when the Count began to feel his pains grow less.
Then
at last his heart melted; he was sorry for all the evil he had done out of
pride, and implored Renelde to forgive him. So Renelde forgave him, and went on
spinning night and day.
When
the thread of the nettles was spun she wove it with her shuttle, and then cut
the shroud and began to sew it.
And
as before, when she sewed the Count felt his pains grow less, and the life
sinking within him, and when the needle made the last stitch he gave his last
sigh.
VIII
At
the same hour Guilbert returned to the country, and, as he had never ceased to
love Renelde, he married her eight days later.
He
had lost two years of happiness, but comforted himself with thinking that his
wife was a clever spinner, and, what was much more rare, a brave and good
woman.[24]
[24]
Ch. Denlin.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f29]
FARMER
WEATHERBEARD
THERE
was once upon a time a man and a woman who had an only son, and he was called
Jack. The woman thought that it was his duty to go out to service, and told her
husband that he was to take him somewhere.
`You
must get him such a good place that he will become master of all masters,' she
said, and then she put some food and a roll of tobacco into a bag for them.
Well,
they went to a great many masters, but all said that they could make the lad as
good as they were themselves, but better than that they could not make him.
When the man came home to the old woman with this answer, she said, `I shall be
equally well pleased whatever you do with him; but this I do say, that you are
to have him made a master over all masters.' Then she once more put some food
and a roll of tobacco into the bag, and the man and his son had to set out
again.
When
they had walked some distance they got upon the ice, and there they met a man
in a carriage who was driving a black horse.
`Where
are you going?' he said.
`I
have to go and get my son apprenticed to someone who will be able to teach him
a trade, for my old woman comes of such well-to-do folk that she insists on his
being taught to be master of all masters,' said the man.
`We
are not ill met, then,' said the man who was driving, `for I am the kind of man
who can do that, and I am just looking out for such an apprentice. Get up
behind with you,' he said to the boy, and off the horse went with them straight
up into the air.
`No,
no, wait a little!' screamed the father of the boy. `I ought to know what your
name is and where you live.'
`Oh,
I am at home both in the north and the south and the east and the west, and I
am called Farmer Weatherbeard,' said the master. `You may come here again in a
year's time, and then I will tell you if the lad suits me.' And then they set
off again and were gone.
When
the man got home the old woman inquired what had become of the son.
`Ah!
Heaven only knows what has become of him!' said the man. `They went up aloft.'
And then he told her what had happened.
But
when the woman heard that, and found that the man did not at all know either
when their son would be out of his apprentice-ship, or where he had gone, she
packed him off again to find out, and gave him a bag of food and a roll of
tobacco to take away with him.
When
he had walked for some time he came to a great wood, and it stretched before
him all day long as he went on, and when night began to fall he saw a great
light, and went towards it. After a long, long time he came to a small hut at
the foot of a rock, outside which an old woman was standing drawing water up
from a well with her nose, it was so long.
`Good-evening,
mother,' said the man.
`Good-evening
to you too,' said the old woman. `No one has called me mother this hundred
years.'
`Can
I lodge here to-night?' said the man.
`No,'
said the old woman. But the man took out his roll of tobacco, lighted a little
of it, and then gave her a whiff. Then she was so delighted that she began to
dance, and thus the man got leave to stay the night there. It was not long
before he asked about Farmer Weatherbeard.
She
said that she knew nothing about him, but that she ruled over all the
four-footed beasts, and some of them might know him. So she gathered them all
together by blowing a whistle which she had, and questioned them, but there was
not one of them which knew anything about Farmer Weatherbeard.
`Well,'
said the old woman, `there are three of us sisters; it may be that one of the
other two knows where he is to be found. You shall have the loan of my horse
and carriage, and then you will get there by night; but her house is three
hundred miles off, go the nearest way you will.'
The
man set out and got there at night. When he arrived, this old woman also was
standing drawing water out of the well with her nose.
`Good-evening,
mother,' said the man.
`Good-evening
to you,' said the old woman. `No one has ever called me mother this hundred
years.'
`Can
I lodge here to-night?' said the man.
`No,'
said the old woman.
Then
he took out the roll of tobacco, took a whiff, and gave the old woman some
snuff on the back of her hand. Then she was so delighted that she began to
dance, and the man got leave to stay all night. It was not long before he began
to ask about Farmer Weatherbeard.
She
knew nothing about him, but she ruled over all the fishes, she said, and
perhaps some of them might know something. So she gathered them all together by
blowing a whistle which she had, and questioned them, but there was not one of
them which knew anything about Farmer Weatherbeard.
`Well,'
said the old woman, `I have another sister; perhaps she may know something
about him. She lives six hundred miles off, but you shall have my horse and
carriage, and then you will get there by nightfall.'
So
the man set off and he got there by nightfall. The old woman was standing
raking the fire, and she was doing it with her nose, so long it was.
`Good-evening,
mother,' said the man.
`Good-evening
to you,' said the old woman. `No one has called me mother this hundred years.'
`Can
I lodge here to-night?' said the man.
`No,'
said the old woman. But the man pulled out his roll of tobacco again, and
filled his pipe with some of it, and gave the old woman enough snuff to cover
the back of her hand. Then she was so delighted that she began to dance, and
the man got leave to stay in her house. It was not long before he asked about
Farmer Weatherbeard. She knew nothing at all about him, she said, but she
governed all the birds; and she gathered them together with her whistle. When
she questioned them all, the eagle was not there, but it came soon afterwards,
and when asked, it said that it had just come from Farmer Weatherbeard's. Then
the old woman said that it was to guide the man to him. But the eagle would
have something to eat first, and then it wanted to wait until the next day, for
it was so tired with the long journey that it was scarcely able to rise from
the earth.
When
the eagle had had plenty of food and rest, the old woman plucked a feather out
of its tail, and set the man in the feather's place, and then the bird flew
away with him, but they did not get to Farmer Weatherbeard's before midnight.
When
they got there the Eagle said: `There are a great many dead bodies lying
outside the door, but you must not concern yourself about them. The people who
are inside the house are all so sound asleep that it will not be easy to awake
them; but you must go straight to the table-drawer, and take out three bits of
bread, and if you hear anyone snoring, pluck three feathers from his head; he
will not waken for that.'
The
man did this; when he had got the bits of bread he first plucked out one
feather.
`Oof!'
screamed Farmer Weatherbeard.
So
the man plucked out another, and then Farmer Weatherbeard shrieked `Oof!'
again; but when the man had plucked the third, Farmer Weatherbeard screamed so
loudly that the man thought that brick and mortar would be rent in twain, but
for all that he went on sleeping. And now the Eagle told the man what he was to
do next, and he did it. He went to the stable door, and there he stumbled
against a hard stone, which he picked up, and beneath it lay three splinters of
wood, which he also picked up. He knocked at the stable door and it opened at
once. He threw down the three little bits of bread and a hare came out and ate
them. He caught the hare. Then the Eagle told him to pluck three feathers out
of its tail, and put in the hare, the stone, the splinters of wood and himself
instead of them, and then he would be able to carry them all home.
When
the Eagle had flown a long way it alighted on a stone.
`Do
you see anything?' it asked.
`Yes;
I see a flock of crows coming flying after us,' said the man.
`Then
we shall do well to fly on a little farther,' said the Eagle, and off it set.
In
a short time it asked again, `Do you see anything now?'
`Yes;
now the crows are close behind us,' said the man.
`Then
throw down the three feathers which you plucked out of his head,' said the
Eagle.
So
the man did this, and no sooner had he flung them down than the feathers became
a flock of ravens, which chased the crows home again. Then the Eagle flew on
much farther with the man, but at length it alighted on a stone for a while.
`Do
you see anything?' it said.
`I
am not quite certain,' said the man, `but I think I see something coming in the
far distance.'
`Then
we shall do well to fly on a little farther,' said the Eagle, and away it went.
`Do
you see anything now?' it said, after some time had gone by.
`Yes;
now they are close behind us,' said the man.
`Then
throw down the splinters of wood which you took from beneath the gray stone by
the stable door,' said the Eagle. The man did this, and no sooner had he flung
them down than they grew up into a great thick wood, and Farmer Weatherbeard
had to go home for an axe to cut his way through it. So the Eagle flew on a
long, long way, but then it grew tired and sat down on a fir tree.
`Do
you see anything?' it asked.
`Yes;
I am not quite certain,' said the man, `but I think I can catch a glimpse of
something far, far away.'
`Then
we shall do well to fly on a little farther,' said the Eagle, and it set off
again.
`Do
you see anything now?' it said after some time had gone by.
`Yes;
he is close behind us now,' said the man.
`Then
you must fling down the great stone which you took away from the stable door,'
said the Eagle.
The
man did so, and it turned into a great high mountain of stone, which Farmer
Weatherbeard had to break his way through before he could follow them. But when
he had got to the middle of the mountain he broke one of his legs, so he had to
go home to get it put right.
While
he was doing this the Eagle flew off to the man's home with him, and with the
hare, and when they had got home the man went to the churchyard, and had some
Christian earth laid upon the hare, and then it turned into his son Jack.
When
the time came for the fair the youth turned himself into a light-coloured
horse, and bade his father go to the market with him. `If anyone should come
who wants to buy me,' said he, `you are to tell him that you want a hundred
dollars for me; but you must not forget to take off the halter, for if you do I
shall never be able to get away from Farmer Weatherbeard, for he is the man who
will come and bargain for me.'
And
thus it happened. A horse-dealer came who had a great fancy to bargain for the
horse, and the man got a hundred dollars for it, but when the bargain was made,
and Jack's father had got the money, the horse-dealer wanted to have the
halter.
`That
was no part of our bargain,' said the man, `and the halter you shall not have,
for I have other horses which I shall have to sell.'
So
each of them went his way. But the horse dealer had not got very far with Jack
before he resumed his own form again, and when the man got home he was sitting
on the bench by the stove.
The
next day he changed himself into a brown horse and told his father that he was
to set off to market with him. `If a man should come who wants to buy me,' said
Jack, `you are to tell him that you want two hundred dollars, for that he will
give, and treat you besides; but whatsoever you drink, and whatsoever you do, don't
forget to take the halter off me, or you will never see me more.'
And
thus it happened. The man got his two hundred dollars for the horse, and was
treated as well, and when they parted from each other it was just as much as he
could do to remember to take off the halter. But the buyer had not got far on
his way before the youth took his own form again, and when the man reached home
Jack was already sitting on the bench by the stove.
On
the third day all happened in the same way. The youth changed himself into a
great black horse, and told his father that if a man came and offered him three
hundred dollars, and treated him well and handsomely into the bargain, he was
to sell him, but whatsoever he did, or how much soever he drank, he must not
forget to take off the halter, or else he himself would never get away from
Farmer Weatherbeard as long as he lived.
`No,'
said the man, `I will not forget.'
When
he got to the market, he received the three hundred dollars, but Farmer
Weatherbeard treated him so handsomely that he quite forgot to take off the
halter; so Farmer Weatherbeard went away with the horse.
When
he had got some distance he had to go into an inn to get some more brandy; so
he set a barrel full of red-hot nails under his horse's nose, and a trough
filled with oats beneath its tail, and then he tied the halter fast to a hook
and went away into the inn. So the horse stood there stamping, and kicking, and
snorting, and rearing, and out came a girl who thought it a sin and a shame to treat
a horse so ill.
`Ah,
poor creature, what a master you must have to treat you thus!' she said, and
pushed the halter off the hook so that the horse might turn round and eat the
oats.
`I
am here!' shrieked Farmer Weatherbeard, rushing out of doors. But the horse had
already shaken off the halter and flung himself into a goose-pond, where he
changed himself into a little fish. Farmer Weatherbeard went after him, and
changed himself into a great pike. So Jack turned himself into a dove, and
Farmer Weatherbeard turned himself into a hawk, and flew after the dove and
struck it. But a Princess was standing at a window in the King's palace
watching the struggle.
`If
thou didst but know as much as I know, thou wouldst fly in to me through the
window,' said the Princess to the dove.
So
the dove came flying in through the window and changed itself into Jack again,
and told her all as it had happened.
`Change
thyself into a gold ring, and set thyself on my finger,' said the Princess.
`No,
that will not do,' said Jack, `for then Farmer Weatherbeard will make the King
fall sick, and there will be no one who can make him well again before Farmer
Weatherbeard comes and cures him, and for that he will demand the gold ring.'
`I
will say that it was my mother's, and that I will not part with it,' said the
Princess.
So
Jack changed himself into a gold ring, and set himself on the Princess's
finger, and Farmer Weatherbeard could not get at him there. But then all that
the youth had foretold came to pass.
The
King became ill, and there was no doctor who could cure him till Farmer
Weatherbeard arrived, and he demanded the ring which was on the Princess's
finger as a reward.
So
the King sent a messenger to the Princess for the ring. She, however, refused
to part with it, because she had inherited it from her mother. When the King
was informed of this he fell into a rage, and said that he would have the ring,
let her have inherited it from whom she might.
`Well,
it's of no use to be angry about it,' said the Princess, `for I can't get it
off. If you want the ring you will have to take the finger too!'
`I
will try, and then the ring will very soon come off,' said Farmer Weatherbeard.
`No,
thank you, I will try myself,' said the Princess, and she went away to the
fireplace and put some ashes on the ring.
So
the ring came off and was lost among the ashes.
Farmer
Weatherbeard changed himself into a hare, which scratched and scraped about in
the fireplace after the ring until the ashes were up to its ears. But Jack
changed himself into a fox, and bit the hare's head off, and if Farmer
Weatherbeard was possessed by the evil one all was now over with him.[25]
[25]
From P. C. Asbjornsen.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f30]
MOTHER
HOLLE
ONCE
upon a time there was a widow who had two daughters; one of them was pretty and
clever, and the other ugly and lazy. But as the ugly one was her own daughter,
she liked her far the best of the two, and the pretty one had to do all the
work of the house, and was in fact the regular maid of all work. Every day she
had to sit by a well on the high road, and spin till her fingers were so sore
that they often bled. One day some drops of blood fell on her spindle, so she dipped
it into the well meaning to wash it, but, as luck would have it, it dropped
from her hand and fell right in. She ran weeping to her stepmother, and told
her what had happened, but she scolded her harshly, and was so merciless in her
anger that she said:
`Well,
since you've dropped the spindle down, you must just go after it yourself, and
don't let me see your face again until you bring it with you.'
Then
the poor girl returned to the well, and not knowing what she was about, in the
despair and misery of her heart she sprang into the well and sank to the
bottom. For a time she lost all consciousness, and when she came to herself
again she was lying in a lovely meadow, with the sun shining brightly overhead,
and a thousand flowers blooming at her feet. She rose up and wandered through
this enchanted place, till she came to a baker's oven full of bread, and the
bread called out to her as she passed:
`Oh!
take me out, take me out, or I shall be burnt to a cinder. I am quite done
enough.'
So
she stepped up quickly to the oven and took out all the loaves one after the
other. Then she went on a little farther and came to a tree laden with
beautiful rosy-cheeked apples, and as she passed by it called out:
`Oh
I shake me, shake me, my apples are all quite ripe.'
She
did as she was asked, and shook the tree till the apples fell like rain and
none were left hanging. When she had gathered them all up into a heap she went
on her way again, and came at length to a little house, at the door of which
sat an old woman. The old dame had such large teeth that the girl felt
frightened and wanted to run away, but the old woman called after her:
`What
are you afraid of, dear child? Stay with me and be my little maid, and if you
do your work well I will reward you handsomely; but you must be very careful
how you make my bed--you must shake it well till the feathers fly; then people
in the world below say it snows, for I am Mother Holle.'
She
spoke so kindly that the girl took heart and agreed readily to enter her
service. She did her best to please the old woman, and shook her bed with such
a will that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes; so she led a very easy
life, was never scolded, and lived on the fat of the land. But after she had
been some time with Mother Holle she grew sad and depressed, and at first she
hardly knew herself what was the matter. At last she discovered that she was
homesick, so she went to Mother Holle and said:
`I
know I am a thousand times better off here than I ever was in my life before,
but notwithstanding, I have a great longing to go home, in spite of all your
kindness to me. I can remain with you no longer, but must return to my own
people.'
`Your
desire to go home pleases me,' said Mother Holle, `and because you have served
me so faithfully, I will show you the way back into the world myself.'
So
she took her by the hand and led her to an open door, and as the girl passed
through it there fell a heavy shower of gold all over her, till she was covered
with it from top to toe.
`That's
a reward for being such a good little maid,' said Mother Holle, and she gave
her the spindle too that had fallen into the well. Then she shut the door, and
the girl found herself back in the world again, not far from her own house; and
when she came to the courtyard the old hen, who sat on the top of the wall,
called out:
`Click,
clock, clack, Our golden maid's come back.'
Then
she went in to her stepmother, and as she had returned covered with gold she
was welcomed home.
She
proceeded to tell all that had happened to her, and when the mother heard how
she had come by her riches, she was most anxious to secure the same luck for
her own idle, ugly daughter; so she told her to sit at the well and spin. In
order to make her spindle bloody, she stuck her hand into a hedge of thorns and
pricked her finger. Then she threw the spindle into the well, and jumped in
herself after it. Like her sister she came to the beautiful meadow, and
followed the same path. When she reached the baker's oven the bread called out
as before:
`Oh!
take me out, take me out, or I shall be burnt to a cinder. I am quite done
enough.'
But
the good-for-nothing girl answered:
`A
pretty joke, indeed; just as if I should dirty my hands for you!'
And
on she went. Soon she came to the apple tree, which cried:
`Oh
! shake me, shake me, my apples are all quite ripe.'
`I'll
see myself farther,' she replied, `one of them might fall on my head.'
And
so she pursued her way. When she came to Mother Holle's house she wasn't the
least afraid, for she had been warned about her big teeth, and she readily
agreed to become her maid. The first day she worked very hard, and did all her
mistress told her, for she thought of the gold she would give her; but on the second
day she began to be lazy, and on the third she wouldn't even get up in the
morning. She didn't make Mother Holle's bed as she ought to have done, and
never shook it enough to make the feathers fly. So her mistress soon grew weary
of her, and dismissed her, much to the lazy creature's delight.
`For
now,' she thought, `the shower of golden rain will come.'
Mother
Holle led her to the same door as she had done her sister, but when she passed
through it, instead of the gold rain a kettle full of pitch came showering over
her.
`That's
a reward for your service,' said Mother Holle, and she closed the door behind
her.
So
the lazy girl came home all covered with pitch, and when the old hen on the top
of the wall saw her, it called out:
`Click,
clock, clack, Our dirty slut's come back.'
But
the pitch remained sticking to her, and never as long as she lived could it be
got off.[26]
[26]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f31]
MINNIKIN
THERE
was once upon a time a couple of needy folk who lived in a wretched hut, in
which there was nothing but black want; so they had neither food to eat nor
wood to burn. But if they had next to nothing of all else they had the blessing
of God so far as children were concerned, and every year brought them one more.
The man was not overpleased at this. He was always going about grumbling and
growling, and saying that it seemed to him that there might be such a thing as
having too many of these good gifts; so shortly before another baby was born he
went away into the wood for some firewood, saying that he did not want to see
the new child; he would hear him quite soon enough when he began to squall for
some food.
As
soon as this baby was born it began to look about the room. `Ah, my dear
mother!' said he, `give me some of my brothers' old clothes, and food enough
for a few days, and I will go out into the world and seek my fortune, for, so
far as I can see, you have children enough.'
`Heaven
help thee, my son!' said the mother, `that will never do; thou art still far
too little.'
But
the little creature was determined to do it, and begged and prayed so long that
the mother was forced to let him have some old rags, and tie up a little food
for him, and then gaily and happily he went out into the world.
But
almost before he was out of the house another boy was born, and he too looked
about him, and said, `Ah, my dear mother! give me some of my brothers' old
clothes, and food for some days, and then I will go out into the world and find
my twin brother, for you have children enough.'
`Heaven
help thee, little creature! thou art far too little for that,' said the woman;
`it would never do.'
But
she spoke to no purpose, for the boy begged and prayed until he had got some
old rags and a bundle of provisions, and then he set out manfully into the
world to find his twin brother.
When
the younger had walked for some time he caught sight of his brother a short
distance in front of him, and called to him and bade him to stop.
`Wait
a minute,' he said; `you are walking as if for a wager, but you ought to have
stayed to see your younger brother before you hurried off into the world.'
So
the elder stood still and looked back, and when the younger had got up to him,
and had told him that he was his brother, he said: `But now, let us sit down
and see what kind of food our mother has given us,' and that they did.
When
they had walked on a little farther they came to a brook which ran through a
green meadow, and there the younger said that they ought to christen each
other. `As we had to make such haste, and had no time to do it at home, we may
as well do it here,' said he.
`What
will you be called?' asked the elder.
`I
will be called Minnikin,' answered the second; `and you, what will you be
called?'
`I
will be called King Pippin,' answered the elder.
They
christened each other and then went onwards. When they had walked for some time
they came to a crossway, and there they agreed to part, and each take his own
road. This they did, but no sooner had they walked a short distance than they
met again. So they parted once more, and each took his own road, but in a very
short time the same thing happened again--they met each other before they were
at all aware, and so it happened the third time also. Then they arranged with
each other that each should choose his own quarter, and one should go east and
the other west.
`But
if ever you fall into any need or trouble,' said the elder, `call me thrice,
and I will come and help you; only you must not call me until you are in the
utmost need.'
`In
that case we shall not see each other for some time,' said Minnikin; so they
bade farewell to each other, and Minnikin went east and King Pippin went west.
When
Minnikin had walked a long way alone, he met an old, old crook-backed hag, who
had only one eye. Minnikin stole it.
`Oh!
oh!' cried the old hag, `what has become of my eye?'
`What
will you give me to get your eye back?' said Minnikin.
`I
will give thee a sword which is such a sword that it can conquer a whole army,
let it be ever so great,' replied the woman.
`Let
me have it, then,' said Minnikin.
The
old hag gave him the sword, so she got her eye back. Then Minnikin went
onwards, and when he had wandered on for some time he again met an old, old
crook-backed hag, who had only one eye. Minnikin stole it before she was aware.
`Oh!
oh! what has become of my eye?' cried the old hag.
`What
will you give me to get your eye back?' said Minnikin.
`I
will give thee a ship which can sail over fresh water and salt water, over high
hills and deep dales,' answered the old woman.
`Let
me have it then,' said Minnikin.
So
the old woman gave him a little bit of a ship which was no bigger than he could
put in his pocket, and then she got her eye back, and she went her way and
Minnikin his. When he had walked on for a long time, he met for the third time
an old, old crook-backed hag, who had only one eye. This eye also Minnikin
stole, and when the woman screamed and lamented, and asked what had become of
her eye, Minnikin said, `What will you give me to get your eye back?'
`I
will give thee the art to brew a hundred lasts of malt in one brewing.'
So,
for teaching that art, the old hag got her eye back, and they both went away by
different roads.
But
when Minnikin had walked a short distance, it seemed to him that it might be
worth while to see what his ship could do; so he took it out of his pocket, and
first he put one foot into it, and then the other, and no sooner had he put one
foot into the ship than it became much larger, and when he set the other foot
into it, it grew as large as ships that sail on the sea.
Then
Minnikin said: `Now go over fresh water and salt water, over high hills and
deep dales, and do not stop until thou comest to the King's palace.'
And
in an instant the ship went away as swiftly as any bird in the air till it got
just below the King's palace, and there it stood still.
From
the windows of the King's palace many persons had seen Minnikin come sailing
thither, and had stood to watch him; and they were all so astounded that they
ran down to see what manner of man this could be who came sailing in a ship
through the air. But while they were running down from the King's palace,
Minnikin had got out of the ship and had put it in his pocket again; for the
moment he got out of it, it once more became as small as it had been when he
got it from the old woman, and those who came from the King's palace could see
nothing but a ragged little boy who was standing down by the sea-shore. The
King asked where he had come from, but the boy said he did not know, nor yet
could he tell them how he had got there, but he begged very earnestly and
prettily for a place in the King's palace. If there was nothing else for him to
do, he said he would fetch wood and water for the kitchen-maid, and that he
obtained leave to do.
When
Minnikin went up to the King's palace he saw that everything there was hung
with black both outside and inside, from the bottom to the top; so he asked the
kitchen-maid what that meant.
`Oh,
I will tell you that,' answered the kitchen-maid. `The King's daughter was long
ago promised away to three Trolls, and next Thursday evening one of them is to
come to fetch her. Ritter Red has said that he will be able to set her free,
but who knows whether he will be able to do it? so you may easily imagine what
grief and distress we are in here.'
So
when Thursday evening came, Ritter Red accompanied the Princess to the
sea-shore; for there she was to meet the Troll, and Ritter Red was to stay with
her and protect her. He, however, was very unlikely to do the Troll much
injury, for no sooner had the Princess seated herself by the sea-shore than
Ritter Red climbed up into a great tree which was standing there, and hid
himself as well as he could among the branches.
The
Princess wept, and begged him most earnestly not to go and leave her; but
Ritter Red did not concern himself about that. `It is better that one should die
than two,' said he.
In
the meantime Minnikin begged the kitchen-maid very prettily to give him leave
to go down to the strand for a short time.
`Oh,
what could you do down at the strand?' said the kitchen-maid. `You have nothing
to do there.'
`Oh
yes, my dear, just let me go,' said Minnikin. `I should so like to go and amuse
myself with the other children.'
`Well,
well, go then!' said the kitchen-maid, `but don't let me find you staying there
over the time when the pan has to be set on the fire for supper, and the roast
put on the spit; and mind you bring back a good big armful of wood for the
kitchen.'
Minnikin
promised this, and ran down to the sea-shore.
Just
as he got to the place where the King's daughter was sitting, the Troll came
rushing up with a great whistling and whirring, and he was so big and stout
that he was terrible to see, and he had five heads.
`Fire!'
screeched the Troll.
`Fire
yourself!' said Minnikin.
`Can
you fight?' roared the Troll.
`If
not, I can learn,' said Minnikin.
So
the Troll struck at him with a great thick iron bar which he had in his fist,
till the sods flew five yards up into the air.
`Fie!'
said Minnikin. `That was not much of a blow. Now you shall see one of mine.'
So
he grasped the sword which he had got from the old crook-backed woman, and
slashed at the Troll so that all five heads went flying away over the sands.
When
the Princess saw that she was delivered she was so delighted that she did not
know what she was doing, and skipped and danced.
`Come
and sleep a bit with your head in my lap,' she said to Minnikin, and as he
slept she put a golden dress on him.
But
when Ritter Red saw that there was no longer any danger afoot, he lost no time
in creeping down from the tree. He then threatened the Princess, until at
length she was forced to promise to say that it was he who had rescued her, for
he told her that if she did not he would kill her. Then he took the Troll's
lungs and tongue and put them in his pocket-handkerchief, and led the Princess
back to the King's palace; and whatsoever had been lacking to him in the way of
honour before was lacking no longer, for the King did not know how to exalt him
enough, and always set him on his own right hand at table.
As
for Minnikin, first he went out on the Troll's ship and took a great quantity
of gold and silver hoops away with him, and then he trotted back to the King's
palace.
When
the kitchen-maid caught sight of all this gold and silver she was quite amazed,
and said: `My dear friend Minnikin, where have you got all that from?' for she
was half afraid that he had not come by it honestly.
`Oh,'
answered Minnikin, `I have been home a while, and these hoops had fallen off
some of our buckets, so I brought them away with me for you.'
So
when the kitchen-maid heard that they were for her, she asked no more questions
about the matter. She thanked Minnikin, and everything was right again at once.
Next
Thursday evening all went just the same, and everyone was full of grief and
affliction, but Ritter Red said that he had been able to deliver the King's
daughter from one Troll, so that he could very easily deliver her from another,
and he led her down to the sea-shore. But he did not do much harm to this Troll
either, for when the time came when the Troll might be expected, he said as he
had said before: `It is better that one should die than two,' and then climbed
up into the tree again.
Minnikin
once more begged the cook's leave to go down to the sea-shore for a short time.
`Oh,
what can you do there?' said the cook.
`My
dear, do let me go!' said Minnikin; `I should so like to go down there and
amuse myself a little with the other children.'
So
this time also she said that he should have leave to go, but he must first
promise that he would be back by the time the joint was turned and that he
would bring a great armful of wood with him.
No
sooner had Minnikin got down to the strand than the Troll came rushing along
with a great whistling and whirring, and he was twice as big as the first
Troll, and he had ten heads.
`Fire!'
shrieked the Troll.
`Fire
yourself!' said Minnikin.
`Can
you fight?' roared the Troll.
`If
not, I can learn,' said Minnikin.
So
the Troll struck at him with his iron club--which was still bigger than that
which the first Troll had had--so that the earth flew ten yards up in the air.
`Fie!'
said Minnikin. `That was not much of a blow. Now you shall see one of my
blows.'
Then
he grasped his sword and struck at the Troll, so that all his ten heads danced
away over the sands.
And
again the King's daughter said to him, `Sleep a while on my lap,' and while
Minnikin lay there she drew some silver raiment over him.
As
soon as Ritter Red saw that there was no longer any danger afoot, he crept down
from the tree and threatened the Princess, until at last she was again forced
to promise to say that it was he who had rescued her; after which he took the
tongue and the lungs of the Troll and put them in his pocket-handkerchief, and
then he conducted the Princess back to the palace. There was joy and gladness
in the palace, as may be imagined, and the King did not know how to show enough
honour and respect to Ritter Red.
Minnikin,
however, took home with him an armful of gold and silver hoops from the Troll's
ship. When he came back to the King's palace the kitchen-maid clapped her hands
and wondered where he could have got all that gold and silver; but Minnikin
answered that he had been home for a short time, and that it was only the hoops
which had fallen off some pails, and that he had brought them away for the
kitchen-maid.
When
the third Thursday evening came, everything happened exactly as it had happened
on the two former occasions. Everything in the King's palace was hung with
black, and everyone was sorrowful and distressed; but Ritter Red said that he
did not think that they had much reason to be afraid--he had delivered the
King's daughter from two Trolls, so he could easily deliver her from the third
as well.
He
led her down to the strand, but when the time drew near for the Troll to come,
he climbed up into the tree again and hid himself.
The
Princess wept and entreated him to stay, but all to no purpose. He stuck to his
old speech, `It is better that one life should be lost than two.'
This
evening also, Minnikin begged for leave to go down to the sea-shore.
`Oh,
what can you do there?' answered the kitchen-maid.
However,
he begged until at last he got leave to go, but he was forced to promise that
he would be back again in the kitchen when the roast had to be turned.
Almost
immediately after he had got down to the sea-shore the Troll came with a great
whizzing and whirring, and he was much, much bigger than either of the two
former ones, and he had fifteen heads.
`Fire!'
roared the Troll.
`Fire
yourself!' said Minnikin.
`Can
you fight?' screamed the Troll.
`If
not, I can learn,' said Minnikin.
`I
will teach you,' yelled the Troll, and struck at him with his iron club so that
the earth flew up fifteen yards high into the air.
`Fie!'
said Minnikin. `That was not much of a blow. Now I will let you see one of my
blows.'
So
saying he grasped his sword, and cut at the Troll in such a way that all his
fifteen heads danced away over the sands.
Then
the Princess was delivered, and she thanked Minnikin and blessed him for saving
her.
`Sleep
a while now on my lap,' said she, and while he lay there she put a garment of
brass upon him.
`But
now, how shall we have it made known that it was you who saved me?' said the
King's daughter.
`That
I will tell you,' answered Minnikin. `When Ritter Red has taken you home again,
and given out that it was he who rescued you, he will, as you know, have you to
wife, and half the kingdom. But when they ask you on your wedding-day whom you
will have to be your cup-bearer, you must say, ``I will have the ragged boy who
is in the kitchen, and carries wood and water for the kitchen-maid;'' and when
I am filling your cups for you, I will spill a drop upon his plate but none
upon yours, and then he will be angry and strike me, and this will take place
thrice. But the third time you must say, ``Shame on you thus to smite the
beloved of mine heart. It is he who delivered me from the Troll, and he is the
one whom I will have.'' '
Then
Minnikin ran back to the King's palace as he had done before, but first he went
on board the Troll's ship and took a great quantity of gold and silver and
other precious things, and out of these he once more gave to the kitchen-maid a
whole armful of gold and silver hoops.
No
sooner did Ritter Red see that all danger was over than he crept down from the
tree, and threatened the King's daughter till he made her promise to say that
he had rescued her. Then he conducted her back to the King's palace, and if
honour enough had not been done him before it was certainly done now, for the
King had no other thought than how to make much of the man who had saved his
daughter from the three Trolls; and it was settled then that Ritter Red should
marry her, and receive half the kingdom.
On
the wedding-day, however, the Princess begged that she might have the little
boy who was in the kitchen, and carried wood and water for the kitchen-maid, to
fill the wine-cups at the wedding feast.
`Oh,
what can you want with that dirty, ragged boy, in here?' said Ritter Red, but
the Princess said that she insisted on having him as cup-bearer and would have
no one else; and at last she got leave, and then everything was done as had
been agreed on between the Princess and Minnikin. He spilt a drop on Ritter
Red's plate but none upon hers, and each time that he did it Ritter Red fell
into a rage and struck him. At the first blow all the ragged garments which he
had worn in the kitchen fell from off Minnikin, at the second blow the brass
garments fell off, and at the third the silver raiment, and there he stood in
the golden raiment, which was so bright and splendid that light flashed from
it.
Then
the King's daughter said: `Shame on you thus to smite the beloved of my heart.
It is he who delivered me from the Troll, and he is the one whom I will have.'
Ritter
Red swore that he was the man who had saved her, but the King said: `He who
delivered my daughter must have some token in proof of it.'
So
Ritter Red ran off at once for his handkerchief with the lungs and tongue, and
Minnikin went and brought all the gold and silver and precious things which he
had taken out of the Trolls' ships; and they each of them laid these tokens
before the King.
`He
who has such precious things in gold and silver and diamonds,' said the King,
`must be the one who killed the Troll, for such things are not to be had
anywhere else.' So Ritter Red was thrown into the snake-pit, and Minnikin was
to have the Princess, and half the kingdom.
One
day the King went out walking with Minnikin, and Minnikin asked him if he had
never had any other children.
`Yes,'
said the King, `I had another daughter, but the Troll carried her away because
there was no one who could deliver her. You are going to have one daughter of
mine, but if you can set free the other, who has been taken by the Troll, you
shall willingly have her too, and the other half of the kingdom as well.'
`I
may as well make the attempt,' said Minnikin, `but I must have an iron rope
which is five hundred ells long, and then I must have five hundred men with me,
and provisions for five weeks, for I have a long voyage before me.'
So
the King said he should have these things, but the King was afraid that he had
no ship large enough to carry them all.
`But
I have a ship of my own,' said Minnikin, and he took the one which the old
woman had given him out of his pocket. The King laughed at him and thought that
it was only one of his jokes, but Minnikin begged him just to give him what he
had asked for, and then he should see something. Then all that Minnikin had
asked for was brought; and first he ordered them to lay the cable in the ship,
but there was no one who was able to lift it, and there was only room for one or
two men at a time in the little bit of a ship. Then Minnikin himself took hold
of the cable, and laid one or two links of it into the ship, and as he threw
the links into it the ship grew bigger and bigger, and at last it was so large
that the cable, and the five hundred men, and provisions, and Minnikin himself,
had room enough.
`Now
go over fresh water and salt water, over hill and dale, and do not stop until
thou comest to where the King's daughter is,' said Minnikin to the ship, and
off it went in a moment over land and water till the wind whistled and moaned
all round about it.
When
they had sailed thus a long, long way, the ship stopped short in the middle of
the sea.
`Ah,
now we have got there,' said Minnikin, `but how we are to get back again is a
very different thing.'
Then
he took the cable and tied one end of it round his body. `Now I must go to the
bottom,' he said, `but when I give a good jerk to the cable and want to come up
again, you must all pull like one man, or there will be an end of all life both
for you and for me.' So saying he sprang into the water, and yellow bubbles
rose up all around him. He sank lower and lower, and at last he came to the
bottom. There he saw a large hill with a door in it, and in he went. When he had
got inside he found the other Princess sitting sewing, but when she saw
Minnikin she clapped her hands.
`Ah,
heaven be praised!' she cried, `I have not seen a Christian man since I came
here.'
`I
have come for you,' said Minnikin.
`Alas!
you will not be able to get me,' said the King's daughter. `It is no use even
to think of that; if the Troll catches sight of you he will take your life.'
`You
had better tell me about him,' said Minnikin. `Where is he gone? It would be
amusing to see him.'
So
the King's daughter told Minnikin that the Troll was out trying to get hold of
someone who could brew a hundred lasts of malt at one brewing, for there was to
be a feast at the Troll's, at which less than that would not be drunk.
`I
can do that,' said Minnikin.
`Ah!
if only the Troll were not so quick-tempered I might have told him that,'
answered the Princess, `but he is so ill-natured that he will tear you to
pieces, I fear, as soon as he comes in. But I will try to find some way of
doing it. Can you hide yourself here in the cupboard? and then we will see what
happens.'
Minnikin
did this, and almost before he had crept into the cupboard and hidden himself,
came the Troll.
`Huf!
What a smell of Christian man's blood!' said the Troll.
`Yes,
a bird flew over the roof with a Christian man's bone in his bill, and let it
fall down our chimney,' answered the Princess. `I made haste enough to get it
away again, but it must be that which smells so, notwithstanding.'
`Yes,
it must be that,' said the Troll.
Then
the Princess asked if he had got hold of anyone who could brew a hundred lasts
of malt at one brewing.
`No,
there is no one who can do it,' said the Troll.
`A
short time since there was a man here who said he could do it,' said the King's
daughter.
`How
clever you always are!' said the Troll. `How could you let him go away? You
must have known that I was just wanting a man of that kind.'
`Well,
but I didn't let him go, after all,' said the Princess; `but father is so
quick-tempered, so I hid him in the cupboard, but if father has not found any
one then the man is still here.'
`Let
him come in,' said the Troll.
When
Minnikin came, the Troll asked if it were true that he could brew a hundred
lasts of malt at one brewing.
`Yes,'
said Minnikin, `it is.'
`It
is well then that I have lighted on thee,' said the Troll. `Fall to work this
very minute, but Heaven help thee if thou dost not brew the ale strong.'
`Oh,
it shall taste well,' said Minnikin, and at once set himself to work to brew.
`But
I must have more trolls to help to carry what is wanted,' said Minnikin; `these
that I have are good for nothing.'
So
he got more and so many that there was a swarm of them, and then the brewing
went on. When the sweet-wort was ready they were all, as a matter of course,
anxious to taste it, first the Troll himself and then the others; but Minnikin
had brewed the wort so strong that they all fell down dead like so many flies
as soon as they had drunk any of it. At last there was no one left but one
wretched old hag who was lying behind the stove.
`Oh,
poor old creature!' said Minnikin, `you shall have a taste of the wort too like
the rest.' So he went away and scooped up a little from the bottom of the
brewing vat in a milk pan, and gave it to her, and then he was quit of the
whole of them.
While
Minnikin was now standing there looking about him, he cast his eye on a large
chest. This he took and filled it with gold and silver, and then he tied the
cable round himself and the Princess and the chest, and tugged at the rope with
all his might, whereupon his men drew them up safe and sound.
As
soon as Minnikin had got safely on his ship again, he said: `Now go over salt
water and fresh water, over hill and dale, and do not stop until thou comest
unto the King's palace.' And in a moment the ship went off so fast that the
yellow foam rose up all round about it.
When
those who were in the King's palace saw the ship, they lost no time in going to
meet him with song and music, and thus they marched up towards Minnikin with
great rejoicings; but the gladdest of all was the King, for now he had got his
other daughter back again.
But
now Minnikin was not happy, for both the Princesses wanted to have him, and he
wanted to have none other than the one whom he had first saved, and she was the
younger. For this cause he was continually walking backwards and forwards,
thinking how he could contrive to get her, and yet do nothing that was unkind
to her sister. One day when he was walking about and thinking of this, it came
into his mind that if he only had his brother, King Pippin, with him, who was
so like himself that no one could distinguish the one from the other, he could
let him have the elder Princess and half the kingdom; as for himself, he
thought, the other half was quite enough. As soon as this thought occurred to
him he went outside the palace and called for King Pippin, but no one came. So
he called a second time, and a little louder, but no! still no one came. So
Minnikin called for the third time, and with all his might, and there stood his
brother by his side.
`I
told you that you were not to call me unless you were in the utmost need,' he
said to Minnikin, `and there is not even so much as a midge here who can do you
any harm!' and with that he gave Minnikin such a blow that he rolled over on
the grass.
`Shame
on you to strike me!' said Minnikin. `First have I won one Princess and half
the kingdom, and then the other Princess and the other half of the kingdom; and
now, when I was just thinking that I would give you one of the Princesses and
one of the halves of the kingdom, do you think you have any reason to give me
such a blow?'
When
King Pippin heard that he begged his brother's pardon, and they were reconciled
at once and became good friends.
`Now,
as you know,' said Minnikin, `we are so like each other that no one can tell
one of us from the other; so just change clothes with me and go up to the
palace, and then the Princesses will think that I am coming in, and the one who
kisses you first shall be yours, and I will have the other.' For he knew that
the elder Princess was the stronger, so he could very well guess how things
would go.
King
Pippin at once agreed to this. He changed clothes with his brother, and went
into the palace. When he entered the Princess's apartments they believed that
he was Minnikin, and both of them ran up to him at once; but the elder, who was
bigger and stronger, pushed her sister aside, and threw her arms round King
Pippin's neck and kissed him; so he got her to wife, and Minnikin the younger
sister. It will be easy to understand that two weddings took place, and they
were so magnificent that they were heard of and talked about all over seven
kingdoms.[27]
[27]
From J. Moe.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f32]
BUSHY
BRIDE
THERE
was once on a time a widower who had a son and a daughter by his first wife.
They were both good children, and loved each other with all their hearts. After
some time had gone by the man married again, and he chose a widow with one
daughter who was ugly and wicked, and her mother was ugly and wicked too. From
the very day that the new wife came into the house there was no peace for the
man's children, and not a corner to be found where they could get any rest; so
the boy thought that the best thing he could do was to go out into the world
and try to earn his own bread.
When
he had roamed about for some time he came to the King's palace, where he
obtained a place under the coachman; and very brisk and active he was, and the
horses that he looked after were so fat and sleek, that they shone again.
But
his sister, who was still at home, fared worse and worse. Both her step-mother
and her step-sister were always finding fault with her, whatsoever she did and
whithersoever she went, and they scolded her and abused her so that she never
had an hour's peace. They made her do all the hard work, and hard words fell to
her lot early and late, but little enough food accompanied them.
One
day they sent her to the brook to fetch some water home, and an ugly and
horrible head rose up out of the water, and said, `Wash me, girl!'
`Yes,
I will wash you with pleasure,' said the girl, and began to wash and scrub the
ugly face, but she couldn't help thinking that it was a very unpleasant piece
of work. When she had done it, and done it well, another head rose up out of
the water, and this one was uglier still.
`Brush
me, girl!' said the head.
`Yes,
I will brush you with pleasure,' said the girl, and set to work with the
tangled hair, and, as may be easily imagined, this too was by no means pleasant
work.
When
she had got it done, another and a much more ugly and horrible-looking head
rose up out of the water.
`Kiss
me, girl!' said the head.
`Yes,
I will kiss you,'' said the man's daughter, and she did it, but she thought it
was the worst bit of work that she had ever had to do in her life.
So
the heads all began to talk to each other, and to ask what they should do for
this girl who was so full of kindliness.
`She
shall be the prettiest girl that ever was, and fair and bright as the day,'
said the first head.
`Gold
shall drop from her hair whenever she brushes it,' said the second.
`Gold
shall drop from her mouth whenever she speaks,' said the third head.
So
when the man's daughter went home, looking as beautiful and bright as day, the
step-mother and her daughter grew much more ill-tempered, and it was worse
still when she began to talk, and they saw that golden coins dropped from her
mouth. The step-mother fell into such a towering passion that she drove the
man's daughter into the pig-stye--she might stay there with her fine show of
gold, the step-mother said, but she should not be permitted to set foot in the
house.
It
was not long before the mother wanted her own daughter to go to the stream to
fetch some water.
When
she got there with her pails, the first head rose up out of the water close to
the bank. `Wash me, girl!' it said.
`Wash
yourself!' answered the woman's daughter.
Then
the second head appeared.
`Brush
me, girl!' said the head.
`Brush
yourself!' said the woman's daughter.
So
down it went to the bottom, and the third head came up.
`Kiss
me, girl!' said the head.
`As
if I would kiss your ugly mouth!' said the girl.
So
again the heads talked together about what they should do for this girl who was
so ill-tempered and full of her own importance, and they agreed that she should
have a nose that was four ells long, and a jaw that was three ells, and a fir
bush in the middle of her forehead, and every time she spoke ashes should fall
from her mouth.
When
she came back to the cottage door with her pails, she called to her mother who
was inside, `Open the door!'
`Open
the door yourself, my own dear child!' said the mother.
`I
can't get near, because of my nose,' said the daughter.
When
the mother came and saw her you may imagine what a state of mind she was in,
and how she screamed and lamented, but neither the nose nor the jaw grew any
the less for that.
Now
the brother, who was in service in the King's palace, had taken a portrait of
his sister, and he had carried the picture away with him, and every morning and
evening he knelt down before it and prayed for his sister, so dearly did he
love her.
The
other stable-boys had heard him doing this, so they peeped through the key-hole
into his room, and saw that he was kneeling there before a picture; so they
told everyone that every morning and evening the youth knelt down and prayed to
an idol which he had; and at last they went to the King himself, and begged
that he too would peep through the key-hole, and see for himself what the youth
did. At first the King would not believe this, but after a long, long time,
they prevailed with him, and he crept on tip-toe to the door, peeped through,
and saw the youth on his knees, with his hands clasped together before a
picture which was hanging on the wall.
`Open
the door!' cried the King, but the youth did not hear.
So
the King called to him again, but the youth was praying so fervently that he
did not hear him this time either.
`Open
the door, I say!' cried the King again. `It is I! I want to come in.'
So
the youth sprang to the door and unlocked it, but in his haste he forgot to
hide the picture.
When
the King entered and saw it, he stood still as if he were in fetters, and could
not stir from the spot, for the picture seemed to him so beautiful.
`There
is nowhere on earth so beautiful a woman as this!' said the King.
But
the youth told him that she was his sister, and that he had painted her, and
that if she was not prettier than the picture she was at all events not uglier.
`Well,
if she is as beautiful as that, I will have her for my Queen,' said the King,
and he commanded the youth to go home and fetch her without a moment's delay,
and to lose no time in coming back. The youth promised to make all the haste he
could, and set forth from the King's palace.
When
the brother arrived at home to fetch his sister, her stepmother and step-sister
would go too. So they all set out together, and the man's daughter took with
her a casket in which she kept her gold, and a dog which was called Little
Snow. These two things were all that she had inherited from her mother. When
they had travelled for some time they had to cross the sea, and the brother sat
down at the helm, and the mother and the two half-sisters went to the fore-part
of the vessel, and they sailed a long, long way. At last they came in sight of
land.
`Look
at that white strand there; that is where we shall land,' said the brother,
pointing across the sea.
`What
is my brother saying?' inquired the man's daughter.
`He
says that you are to throw your casket out into the sea,' answered the
step-mother.
`Well,
if my brother says so, I must do it,' said the man's daughter, and she flung
her casket into the sea.
When
they had sailed for some time longer, the brother once more pointed over the
sea. `There you may see the palace to which we are bound,' said he.
`What
is my brother saying?' asked the man's daughter.
`Now
he says that you are to throw your dog into the sea,' answered the step-mother.
The
man's daughter wept, and was sorely troubled, for Little Snow was the dearest
thing she had on earth, but at last she threw him overboard.
`If
my brother says that, I must do it, but Heaven knows how unwilling I am to
throw thee out, Little Snow!' said she.
So
they sailed onwards a long way farther.
`There
may'st thou see the King coming out to meet thee,' said the brother, pointing
to the sea-shore.
`What
is my brother saying?' asked his sister again.
`Now
he says that you are to make haste and throw yourself overboard,' answered the
step-mother.
She
wept and she wailed, but as her brother had said that, she thought she must do
it; so she leaped into the sea.
But
when they arrived at the palace, and the King beheld the ugly bride with a nose
that was four ells long, a jaw that was three ells, and a forehead that had a
bush in the middle of it, he was quite terrified; but the wedding feast was all
prepared, as regarded brewing and baking, and all the wedding guests were
sitting waiting, so, ugly as she was, the King was forced to take her.
But
he was very wroth, and none can blame him for that; so he caused the brother to
be thrown into a pit full of snakes.
On
the first Thursday night after this, a beautiful maiden came into the kitchen
of the palace, and begged the kitchen-maid, who slept there, to lend her a
brush. She begged very prettily, and got it, and then she brushed her hair, and
the gold dropped from it.
A
little dog was with her, and she said to it, `Go out, Little Snow, and see if
it will soon be day!'
This
she said thrice, and the third time that she sent out the dog to see, it was
very near dawn. Then she was forced to depart, but as she went she said:
`Out
on thee, ugly Bushy Bride, Sleeping so soft by the young King's side, On sand
and stones my bed I make, And my brother sleeps with the cold snake, Unpitied
and unwept.'
I
shall come twice more, and then never again,' said she.
In
the morning the kitchen-maid related what she had seen and heard, and the King
said that next Thursday night he himself would watch in the kitchen and see if
this were true, and when it had begun to grow dark he went out into the kitchen
to the girl. But though he rubbed his eyes and did everything he could to keep
himself awake it was all in vain, for the Bushy Bride crooned and sang till his
eyes were fast closed, and when the beautiful young maiden came he was sound
asleep and snoring.
This
time also, as before, she borrowed a brush and brushed her hair with it, and
the gold dropped down as she did it; and again she sent the dog out three times,
and when day dawned she departed, but as she was going she said as she had said
before, `I shall come once more, and then never again.'
On
the third Thursday night the King once more insisted on keeping watch. Then he
set two men to hold him; each of them was to take an arm, and shake him and
jerk him by the arm whenever he seemed to be going to fall asleep; and he set
two men to watch his Bushy Bride. But as the night wore on the Bushy Bride
again began to croon and to sing, so that his eyes began to close and his head
to droop on one side. Then came the lovely maiden, and got the brush and
brushed her hair till the gold dropped from it, and then she sent her Little
Snow out to see if it would soon be day, and this she did three times. The
third time it was just beginning to grow light, and then she said:
`Out
on thee, ugly Bushy Bride, Sleeping so soft by the young King's side, On sand
and stones my bed I make, And my brother sleeps with the cold snake, Unpitied
and unwept.'
`Now
I shall never come again,' she said, and then she turned to go. But the two men
who were holding the King by the arms seized his hands and forced a knife into
his grasp, and then made him cut her little finger just enough to make it
bleed.
Thus
the true bride was freed. The King then awoke, and she told him all that had
taken place, and how her step-mother and step-sister had betrayed her. Then the
brother was at once taken out of the snake-pit--the snakes had never touched
him--and the step-mother and step-sister were flung down into it instead of
him.
No
one can tell how delighted the King was to get rid of that hideous Bushy Bride,
and get a Queen who was bright and beautiful as day itself.
And
now the real wedding was held, and held in such a way that it was heard of and
spoken about all over seven kingdoms. The King and his bride drove to church,
and Little Snow was in the carriage too. When the blessing was given they went
home again, and after that I saw no more of them.[28]
[28]
From J. Moe.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f33]
SNOWDROP
ONCE
upon a time, in the middle of winter when the snow-flakes were falling like
feathers on the earth, a Queen sat at a window framed in black ebony and sewed.
And as she sewed and gazed out to the white landscape, she pricked her finger
with the needle, and three drops of blood fell on the snow outside, and because
the red showed out so well against the white she thought to herself:
`Oh!
what wouldn't I give to have a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as
black as ebony!'
And
her wish was granted, for not long after a little daughter was born to her,
with a skin as white as snow, lips and cheeks as red as blood, and hair as
black as ebony. They called her Snowdrop, and not long after her birth the
Queen died.
After
a year the King married again. His new wife was a beautiful woman, but so proud
and overbearing that she couldn't stand any rival to her beauty. She possessed
a magic mirror, and when she used to stand before it gazing at her own
reflection and ask:
`Mirror,
mirror, hanging there, Who in all the land's most fair?'
it
always replied:
`You
are most fair, my Lady Queen, None fairer in the land, I ween.'
Then
she was quite happy, for she knew the mirror always spoke the truth.
But
Snowdrop was growing prettier and prettier every day, and when she was seven
years old she was as beautiful as she could be, and fairer even than the Queen
herself. One day when the latter asked her mirror the usual question, it
replied:
`My
Lady Queen, you are fair, 'tis true, But Snowdrop is fairer far than you.'
Then
the Queen flew into the most awful passion, and turned every shade of green in
her jealousy. From this hour she hated poor Snowdrop like poison, and every day
her envy, hatred, and malice grew, for envy and jealousy are like evil weeds
which spring up and choke the heart. At last she could endure Snowdrop's
presence no longer, and, calling a huntsman to her, she said:
`Take
the child out into the wood, and never let me see her face again. You must kill
her, and bring me back her lungs and liver, that I may know for certain she is
dead.'
The
Huntsman did as he was told and led Snowdrop out into the wood, but as he was
in the act of drawing out his knife to slay her, she began to cry, and said:
`Oh,
dear Huntsman, spare my life, and I will promise to fly forth into the wide
wood and never to return home again.'
And
because she was so young and pretty the Huntsman had pity on her, and said:
`Well,
run along, poor child.' For he thought to himself: `The wild beasts will soon
eat her up.'
And
his heart felt lighter because he hadn't had to do the deed himself. And as he
turned away a young boar came running past, so he shot it, and brought its
lungs and liver home to the Queen as a proof that Snowdrop was really dead. And
the wicked woman had them stewed in salt, and ate them up, thinking she had
made an end of Snowdrop for ever.
Now
when the poor child found herself alone in the big wood the very trees around
her seemed to assume strange shapes, and she felt so frightened she didn't know
what to do. Then she began to run over the sharp stones, and through the
bramble bushes, and the wild beasts ran past her, but they did her no harm. She
ran as far as her legs would carry her, and as evening approached she saw a
little house, and she stepped inside to rest. Everything was very small in the
little house, but cleaner and neater than anything you can imagine. In the
middle of the room there stood a little table, covered with a white tablecloth,
and seven little plates and forks and spoons and knives and tumblers. Side by
side against the wall there were seven little beds, covered with snow-white
counterpanes. Snowdrop felt so hungry and so thirsty that she ate a bit of
bread and a little porridge from each plate, and drank a drop of wine out of
each tumbler. Then feeling tired and sleepy she lay down on one of the beds,
but it wasn't comfortable; then she tried all the others in turn, but one was
too long, and another too short, and it was only when she got to the seventh
that she found one to suit her exactly. So she lay down upon it, said her
prayers like a good child, and fell fast asleep.
When
it got quite dark the masters of the little house returned. They were seven
dwarfs who worked in the mines, right down deep in the heart of the mountain.
They lighted their seven little lamps, and as soon as their eyes got accustomed
to the glare they saw that someone had been in the room, for all was not in the
same order as they had left it.
The
first said:
`Who's
been sitting on my little chair?'
The
second said:
`Who's
been eating my little loaf?'
The
third said:
`Who's
been tasting my porridge?'
The
fourth said:
`Who's
been eating out of my little plate?'
The
fifth said:
`Who's
been using my little fork?'
The
sixth said:
`Who's
been cutting with my little knife?'
The
seventh said:
`Who's
been drinking out of my little tumbler?'
Then
the first Dwarf looked round and saw a little hollow in his bed, and he asked
again:
`Who's
been lying on my bed?'
The
others came running round, and cried when they saw their beds:
`Somebody
has lain on ours too.'
But
when the seventh came to his bed, he started back in amazement, for there he
beheld Snowdrop fast asleep. Then he called the others, who turned their little
lamps full on the bed, and when they saw Snowdrop lying there they nearly fell
down with surprise.
`Goodness
gracious!' they cried, `what a beautiful child!'
And
they were so enchanted by her beauty that they did not wake her, but let her
sleep on in the little bed. But the seventh Dwarf slept with his companions one
hour in each bed, and in this way he managed to pass the night.
In
the morning Snowdrop awoke, but when she saw the seven little Dwarfs she felt
very frightened. But they were so friendly and asked her what her name was in
such a kind way, that she replied:
`I
am Snowdrop.'
`Why
did you come to our house?' continued the Dwarfs.
Then
she told them how her stepmother had wished her put to death, and how the
Huntsman had spared her life, and how she had run the whole day till she had
come to their little house. The Dwarfs, when they had heard her sad story,
asked her:
`Will
you stay and keep house for us, cook, make the beds, the washing, sew and knit?
and if you give satisfaction and keep everything neat and clean, you shall want
for nothing.'
`Yes,'
answered Snowdrop, `I will gladly do all you ask.'
And
so she took up her abode with them. Every morning the Dwarfs went into the
mountain to dig for gold, and in the evening, when they returned home, Snowdrop
always had their supper ready for them. But during the day the girl was left
quite alone, so the good Dwarfs warned her, saying:
`Beware
of your step-mother. She will soon find out you are here, and whatever you do
don't let anyone into the house.'
Now
the Queen, after she thought she had eaten Snowdrop's lungs and liver, never
dreamed but that she was once more the most beautiful woman in the world; so
stepping before her mirror one day she said:
`Mirror,
mirror, hanging there, Who in all the land's most fair?'
and
the mirror replied:
`My
Lady Queen, you are fair, 'tis true, But Snowdrop is fairer far than you.
Snowdrop, who dwells with the seven little men, Is as fair as you, as fair
again.'
When
the Queen heard these words she was nearly struck dumb with horror, for the
mirror always spoke the truth, and she knew now that the Huntsman must have
deceived her, and that Snowdrop was still alive. She pondered day and night how
she might destroy her, for as long as she felt she had a rival in the land her
jealous heart left her no rest. At last she hit upon a plan. She stained her
face and dressed herself up as an old peddler wife, so that she was quite
unrecognisable. In this guise she went over the seven hills till she came to
the house of the seven Dwarfs. There she knocked at the door, calling out at
the same time:
`Fine
wares to sell, fine wares to sell!'
Snowdrop
peeped out of the window, and called out:
`Good-day,
mother, what have you to sell?'
`Good
wares, fine wares,' she answered; `laces of every shade and description,' and
she held one up that was made of some gay coloured silk.
`Surely
I can let the honest woman in,' thought Snowdrop; so she unbarred the door and
bought the pretty lace.
`Good
gracious! child,' said the old woman, `what a figure you've got. Come! I'll
lace you up properly for once.'
Snowdrop,
suspecting no evil, stood before her and let her lace her bodice up, but the
old woman laced her so quickly and so tightly that it took Snowdrop's breath
away, and she fell down dead.
`Now
you are no longer the fairest,' said the wicked old woman, and then she
hastened away.
In
the evening the seven Dwarfs came home, and you may think what a fright they
got when they saw their dear Snowdrop lying on the floor, as still and
motionless as a dead person. They lifted her up tenderly, and when they saw how
tightly laced she was they cut the lace in two, and she began to breathe a
little and gradually came back to life. When the Dwarfs heard what had
happened, they said:
`Depend
upon it, the old peddler wife was none other than the old Queen. In future you
must be sure to let no one in, if we are not at home.'
As
soon as the wicked old Queen got home she went straight to her mirror, and
said:
`Mirror,
mirror, hanging there, Who in all the land's most fair?'
and
the mirror answered as before:
`My
Lady Queen, you are fair, 'tis true, But Snowdrop is fairer far than you.
Snowdrop, who dwells with the seven little men, Is as fair as you, as fair
again.'
When
she heard this she became as pale as death, because she saw at once that
Snowdrop must be alive again.
`This
time,' she said to herself, `I will think of something that will make an end of
her once and for all.'
And
by the witchcraft which she understood so well she made a poisonous comb; then
she dressed herself up and assumed the form of another old woman. So she went
over the seven hills till she reached the house of the seven Dwarfs, and
knocking at the door she called out:
`Fine
wares for sale.'
Snowdrop
looked out of the window and said:
`You
must go away, for I may not let anyone in.'
`But
surely you are not forbidden to look out?' said the old woman, and she held up
the poisonous comb for her to see.
It
pleased the girl so much that she let herself be taken in, and opened the door.
When they had settled their bargain the old woman said:
`Now
I'll comb your hair properly for you, for once in the way.' Poor Snowdrop
thought no evil, but hardly had the comb touched her hair than the poison
worked and she fell down unconscious.
`Now,
my fine lady, you're really done for this time,' said the wicked woman, and she
made her way home as fast as she could.
Fortunately
it was now near evening, and the seven Dwarfs returned home. When they saw
Snowdrop lying dead on the ground, they at once suspected that her wicked
step-mother had been at work again; so they searched till they found the
poisonous comb, and the moment they pulled it out of her head Snowdrop came to
herself again, and told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more
to be on her guard, and to open the door to no one.
As
soon as the Queen got home she went straight to her mirror, and asked:
`Mirror,
mirror, hanging there, Who in all the land's most fair?'
and
it replied as before:
`My
Lady Queen, you are fair, 'tis true, But Snowdrop is fairer far than you.
Snowdrop, who dwells with the seven little men, Is as fair as you, as fair
again.'
When
she heard these words she literally trembled and shook with rage.
`Snowdrop
shall die,' she cried; `yes, though it cost me my own life.'
Then
she went to a little secret chamber, which no one knew of but herself, and
there she made a poisonous apple. Outwardly it looked beautiful, white with red
cheeks, so that everyone who saw it longed to eat it, but anyone who might do
so would certainly die on the spot. When the apple was quite finished she
stained her face and dressed herself up as a peasant, and so she went over the
seven hills to the seven Dwarfs'. She knocked at the door, as usual, but
Snowdrop put her head out of the window and called out:
`I
may not let anyone in, the seven Dwarfs have forbidden me to do so.'
`Are
you afraid of being poisoned?' asked the old woman. `See, I will cut this apple
in half. I'll eat the white cheek and you can eat the red.'
But
the apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisonous. Snowdrop
longed to eat the tempting fruit, and when she saw that the peasant woman was
eating it herself, she couldn't resist the temptation any longer, and
stretching out her hand she took the poisonous half. But hardly had the first
bite passed her lips than she fell down dead on the ground. Then the eyes of
the cruel Queen sparkled with glee, and laughing aloud she cried:
`As
white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony, this time the Dwarfs won't
be able to bring you back to life.'
When
she got home she asked the mirror:
`Mirror,
mirror, hanging there, Who in all the land's most fair?'
and
this time it replied:
`You
are most fair, my Lady Queen, None fairer in the land, I ween.'
Then
her jealous heart was at rest--at least, as much at rest as a jealous heart can
ever be.
When
the little Dwarfs came home in the evening they found Snowdrop lying on the
ground, and she neither breathed nor stirred. They lifted her up, and looked round
everywhere to see if they could find anything poisonous about. They unlaced her
bodice, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but all in vain; the
child was dead and remained dead. Then they placed her on a bier, and all the
seven Dwarfs sat round it, weeping and sobbing for three whole days. At last
they made up their minds to bury her, but she looked as blooming as a living
being, and her cheeks were still such a lovely colour, that they said:
`We
can't hide her away in the black ground.'
So
they had a coffin made of transparent glass, and they laid her in it, and wrote
on the lid in golden letters that she was a royal Princess. Then they put the
coffin on the top of the mountain, and one of the Dwarfs always remained beside
it and kept watch over it. And the very birds of the air came and bewailed
Snowdrop's death, first an owl, and then a raven, and last of all a little
dove.
Snowdrop
lay a long time in the coffin, and she always looked the same, just as if she
were fast asleep, and she remained as white as snow, as red as blood, and her
hair as black as ebony.
Now
it happened one day that a Prince came to the wood and passed by the Dwarfs'
house. He saw the coffin on the hill, with the beautiful Snowdrop inside it,
and when he had read what was written on it in golden letters, he said to the
Dwarf:
`Give
me the coffin. I'll give you whatever you like for it.'
But
the Dwarf said: `No; we wouldn't part with it for all the gold in the world.'
`Well,
then,' he replied, `give it to me, because I can't live without Snowdrop. I
will cherish and love it as my dearest possession.'
He
spoke so sadly that the good Dwarfs had pity on him, and gave him the coffin,
and the Prince made his servants bear it away on their shoulders. Now it
happened that as they were going down the hill they stumbled over a bush, and
jolted the coffin so violently that the poisonous bit of apple Snowdrop had
swallowed fell out of her throat. She gradually opened her eyes, lifted up the
lid of the coffin, and sat up alive and well.
`Oh!
dear me, where am I?' she cried.
The
Prince answered joyfully, `You are with me,' and he told her all that had
happened. adding, `I love you better than anyone in the whole wide world. Will
you come with me to my father's palace and be my wife?'
Snowdrop
consented, and went with him, and the marriage was celebrated with great pomp
and splendour.
Now
Snowdrop's wicked step-mother was one of the guests invited to the wedding
feast. When she had dressed herself very gorgeously for the occasion, she went
to the mirror, and said:
`Mirror,
mirror, hanging there, Who in all the land's most fair?'
and
the mirror answered:
`My
Lady Queen, you are fair, 'tis true, But Snowdrop is fairer far than you.'
When
the wicked woman heard these words she uttered a curse, and was beside herself
with rage and mortification. At first she didn't want to go to the wedding at
all, but at the same time she felt she would never be happy till she had seen
the young Queen. As she entered Snowdrop recognised her, and nearly fainted
with fear; but red-hot iron shoes had been prepared for the wicked old Queen,
and she was made to get into them and dance till she fell down dead.[29]
[29]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f34]
THE
GOLDEN GOOSE
THERE
was once a man who had three sons. The youngest of them was called Dullhead,
and was sneered and jeered at and snubbed on every possible opportunity.
One
day it happened that the eldest son wished to go into the forest to cut wood,
and before he started his mother gave him a fine rich cake and a bottle of
wine, so that he might be sure not to suffer from hunger or thirst.
When
he reached the forest he met a little old grey man who wished him
`Good-morning,' and said: `Do give me a piece of that cake you have got in your
pocket, and let me have a draught of your wine--I am so hungry and thirsty.'
But
this clever son replied: `If I give you my cake and wine I shall have none left
for myself; you just go your own way;' and he left the little man standing
there and went further on into the forest. There he began to cut down a tree,
but before long he made a false stroke with his axe, and cut his own arm so
badly that he was obliged to go home and have it bound up.
Then
the second son went to the forest, and his mother gave him a good cake and a
bottle of wine as she had to his elder brother. He too met the little old grey
man, who begged him for a morsel of cake and a draught of wine.
But
the second son spoke most sensibly too, and said: `Whatever I give to you I
deprive myself of. Just go your own way, will you?' Not long after his
punishment overtook him, for no sooner had he struck a couple of blows on a
tree with his axe, than he cut his leg so badly that he had to be carried home.
So
then Dullhead said: `Father, let me go out and cut wood.'
But
his father answered: `Both your brothers have injured themselves. You had
better leave it alone; you know nothing about it.'
But
Dullhead begged so hard to be allowed to go that at last his father said: `Very
well, then--go. Perhaps when you have hurt yourself, you may learn to know
better.' His mother only gave him a very plain cake made with water and baked
in the cinders, and a bottle of sour beer.
When
he got to the forest, he too met the little grey old man, who greeted him and
said: `Give me a piece of your cake and a draught from your bottle; I am so
hungry and thirsty.'
And
Dullhead replied: `I've only got a cinder-cake and some sour beer, but if you
care to have that, let us sit down and eat.'
So
they sat down, and when Dullhead brought out his cake he found it had turned
into a fine rich cake, and the sour beer into excellent wine. Then they ate and
drank, and when they had finished the little man said: `Now I will bring you
luck, because you have a kind heart and are willing to share what you have with
others. There stands an old tree; cut it down, and amongst its roots you'll
find something.' With that the little man took leave.
Then
Dullhead fell to at once to hew down the tree, and when it fell he found
amongst its roots a goose, whose feathers were all of pure gold. He lifted it
out, carried it off, and took it with him to an inn where he meant to spend the
night.
Now
the landlord of the inn had three daughters, and when they saw the goose they
were filled with curiosity as to what this wonderful bird could be, and each
longed to have one of its golden feathers.
The
eldest thought to herself: `No doubt I shall soon find a good opportunity to
pluck out one of its feathers,' and the first time Dullhead happened to leave
the room she caught hold of the goose by its wing. But, lo and behold! her
fingers seemed to stick fast to the goose, and she could not take her hand
away.
Soon
after the second daughter came in, and thought to pluck a golden feather for
herself too; but hardly had she touched her sister than she stuck fast as well.
At last the third sister came with the same intentions, but the other two cried
out: `Keep off! for Heaven's sake, keep off!'
The
younger sister could not imagine why she was to keep off, and thought to
herself: `If they are both there, why should not I be there too?'
So
she sprang to them; but no sooner had she touched one of them than she stuck
fast to her. So they all three had to spend the night with the goose.
Next
morning Dullhead tucked the goose under his arm and went off, without in the
least troubling himself about the three girls who were hanging on to it. They
just had to run after him right or left as best they could. In the middle of a
field they met the parson, and when he saw this procession he cried: `For
shame, you bold girls! What do you mean by running after a young fellow through
the fields like that? Do you call that proper behaviour?' And with that he
caught the youngest girl by the hand to try and draw her away. But directly he
touched her he hung on himself, and had to run along with the rest of them.
Not
long after the clerk came that way, and was much surprised to see the parson
following the footsteps of three girls. `Why, where is your reverence going so
fast?' cried he; `don't forget there is to be a christening to-day;' and he ran
after him, caught him by the sleeve, and hung on to it himself: As the five of
them trotted along in this fashion one after the other, two peasants were
coming from their work with their hoes. On seeing them the parson called out
and begged them to come and rescue him and the clerk. But no sooner did they
touch the clerk than they stuck on too, and so there were seven of them running
after Dullhead and his goose.
After
a time they all came to a town where a King reigned whose daughter was so
serious and solemn that no one could ever manage to make her laugh. So the King
had decreed that whoever should succeed in making her laugh should marry her.
When
Dullhead heard this he marched before the Princess with his goose and its
appendages, and as soon as she saw these seven people continually running after
each other she burst out laughing, and could not stop herself. Then Dullhead
claimed her as his bride, but the King, who did not much fancy him as a
son-in-law, made all sorts of objections, and told him he must first find a man
who could drink up a whole cellarful of wine.
Dullhead
bethought him of the little grey man, who could, he felt sure, help him; so he
went off to the forest, and on the very spot where he had cut down the tree he
saw a man sitting with a most dismal expression of face.
Dullhead
asked him what he was taking so much to heart, and the man answered: `I don't
know how I am ever to quench this terrible thirst I am suffering from. Cold
water doesn't suit me at all. To be sure I've emptied a whole barrel of wine,
but what is one drop on a hot stone?'
`I
think I can help you,' said Dullhead. `Come with me, and you shall drink to
your heart's content.' So he took him to the King's cellar, and the man sat
down before the huge casks and drank and drank till he drank up the whole
contents of the cellar before the day closed.
Then
Dullhead asked once more for his bride, but the King felt vexed at the idea of
a stupid fellow whom people called `Dullhead' carrying off his daughter, and he
began to make fresh conditions. He required Dullhead to find a man who could
eat a mountain of bread. Dullhead did not wait to consider long but went
straight off to the forest, and there on the same spot sat a man who was
drawing in a strap as tight as he could round his body, and making a most
woeful face the while. Said he: `I've eaten up a whole oven full of loaves, but
what's the good of that to anyone who is as hungry as I am? I declare my
stomach feels quite empty, and I must draw my belt tight if I'm not to die of
starvation.'
Dullhead
was delighted, and said: `Get up and come with me, and you shall have plenty to
eat,' and he brought him to the King's Court.
Now
the King had given orders to have all the flour in his kingdom brought
together, and to have a huge mountain baked of it. But the man from the wood
just took up his stand before the mountain and began to eat, and in one day it
had all vanished.
For
the third time Dullhead asked for his bride, but again the King tried to make
some evasion, and demanded a ship `which could sail on land or water! When you
come sailing in such a ship,' said he, `you shall have my daughter without
further delay.'
Again
Dullhead started off to the forest, and there he found the little old grey man
with whom he had shared his cake, and who said: `I have eaten and I have drunk
for you, and now I will give you the ship. I have done all this for you because
you were kind and merciful to me.'
Then
he gave Dullhead a ship which could sail on land or water, and when the King
saw it he felt he could no longer refuse him his daughter.
So
they celebrated the wedding with great rejoicings; and after the King's death
Dullhead succeeded to the kingdom, and lived happily with his wife for many
years after.[30]
[30]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f35]
THE
SEVEN FOALS
THERE
was once upon a time a couple of poor folks who lived in a wretched hut, far
away from everyone else, in a wood. They only just managed to live from hand to
mouth, and had great difficulty in doing even so much as that, but they had
three sons, and the youngest of them was called Cinderlad, for he did nothing
else but lie and poke about among the ashes.
One
day the eldest lad said that he would go out to earn his living; he soon got
leave to do that, and set out on his way into the world. He walked on and on
for the whole day, and when night was beginning to fall he came to a royal
palace. The King was standing outside on the steps, and asked where he was
going.
`Oh,
I am going about seeking a place, my father,' said the youth.
`Wilt
thou serve me, and watch my seven foals?' asked the King. `If thou canst watch
them for a whole day and tell me at night what they eat and drink, thou shalt
have the Princess and half my kingdom, but if thou canst not, I will cut three
red stripes on thy back.'
The
youth thought that it was very easy work to watch the foals, and that he could
do it well enough.
Next
morning, when day was beginning to dawn, the King's Master of the Horse let out
the seven foals; and they ran away, and the youth after them just as it
chanced, over hill and dale, through woods end bogs. When the youth had run
thus for a long time he began to be tired, and when he had held on a little
longer he was heartily weary of watching at all, and at the same moment he came
to a cleft in a rock where an old woman was sitting spinning with her distaff
in her hand.
As
soon as she caught sight of the youth, who was running after the foals till the
perspiration streamed down his face, she cried:
`Come
hither, come hither, my handsome son, and let me comb your hair for you.'
The
lad was willing enough, so he sat down in the cleft of the rock beside the old
hag, and laid his head on her knees, and she combed his hair all day while he
lay there and gave himself up to idleness.
When
evening was drawing near, the youth wanted to go.
`I
may just as well go straight home again,' said he, `for it is no use to go to
the King's palace.'
`Wait
till it is dusk,' said the old hag, `and then the King's foals will pass by
this place again, and you can run home with them; no one will ever know that
you have been lying here all day instead of watching the foals.'
So
when they came she gave the lad a bottle of water and a bit of moss, and told
him to show these to the King and say that this was what his seven foals ate
and drank.
`Hast
thou watched faithfully and well the whole day long?' said the King, when the
lad came into his presence in the evening.
`Yes,
that I have!' said the youth.
`Then
you are able to tell me what it is that my seven foals eat and drink,' said the
King.
So
the youth produced the bottle of water and the bit of moss which he had got
from the old woman, saying:
`Here
you see their meat, and here you see their drink.'
Then
the King knew how his watching had been done, and fell into such a rage that he
ordered his people to chase the youth back to his own home at once; but first
they were to cut three red stripes in his back, and rub salt into them.
When
the youth reached home again, anyone can imagine what a state of mind he was
in. He had gone out once to seek a place, he said, but never would he do such a
thing again.
Next
day the second son said that he would now go out into the world to seek his
fortune. His father and mother said `No,' and bade him look at his brother's
back, but the youth would not give up his design, and stuck to it, and after a
long, long time he got leave to go, and set forth on his way. When he had
walked all day he too came to the King's palace, and the King was standing
outside on the steps, and asked where he was going; and when the youth replied
that he was going about in search of a place, the King said that he might enter
into his service and watch his seven foals. Then the King promised him the same
punishment and the same reward that he had promised his brother.
The
youth at once consented to this and entered into the King's service, for he
thought he could easily watch the foals and inform the King what they ate and
drank.
In
the grey light of dawn the Master of the Horse let out the seven foals, and off
they went again over hill and dale, and off went the lad after them. But all
went with him as it had gone with his brother. When he had run after the foals
for a long, long time and was hot and tired, he passed by a cleft in the rock
where an old woman was sitting spinning with a distaff, and she called to him:
`Come
hither, come hither, my handsome son, and let me comb your hair.'
The
youth liked the thought of this, let the foals run where they chose, and seated
himself in the cleft of the rock by the side of the old hag. So there he sat
with his head on her lap, taking his ease the livelong day.
The
foals came back in the evening, and then he too got a bit of moss and a bottle
of water from the old hag, which things he was to show to the King. But when
the King asked the youth: `Canst thou tell me what my seven foals eat and
drink?' and the youth showed him the bit of moss and the bottle of water, and
said: `Yes here may you behold their meat, and here their drink,' the King once
more became wroth, and commanded that three red stripes should be cut on the
lad's back, that salt should be strewn upon them, and that he should then be
instantly chased back to his own home. So when the youth got home again he too
related all that had happened to him, and he too said that he had gone out in
search of a place once, but that never would he do it again.
On
the third day Cinderlad wanted to set out. He had a fancy to try to watch the
seven foals himself, he said.
The
two others laughed at him, and mocked him. `What I when all went so ill with
us, do you suppose that you are going to succeed? You look like succeeding--you
who have never done anything else but lie and poke about among the ashes!' said
they.
`Yes,
I will go too,' said Cinderlad, `for I have taken it into my head.'
The
two brothers laughed at him, and his father and mother begged him not to go,
but all to no purpose, and Cinderlad set out on his way. So when he had walked
the whole day, he too came to the King's palace as darkness began to fall.
There
stood the King outside on the steps, and he asked whither he was bound.
`I
am walking about in search of a place,' said Cinderlad.
`From
whence do you come, then?' inquired the King, for by this time he wanted to
know a little more about the men before he took any of them into his service.
So
Cinderlad told him whence he came, and that he was brother to the two who had
watched the seven foals for the King, and then he inquired if he might be
allowed to try to watch them on the following day.
`Oh,
shame on them!' said the King, for it enraged him even to think of them. `If
thou art brother to those two, thou too art not good for much. I have had
enough of such fellows.'
`Well,
but as I have come here, you might just give me leave to make the attempt,'
said Cinderlad.
`Oh,
very well, if thou art absolutely determined to have thy back flayed, thou
may'st have thine own way if thou wilt,' said the King.
`I
would much rather have the Princess,' said Cinderlad.
Next
morning, in the grey light of dawn, the Master of the Horse let out the seven
foals again, and off they set over hill and dale, through woods and bogs, and
off went Cinderlad after them. When he had run thus for a long time, he too
came to the cleft in the rock. There the old hag was once more sitting spinning
from her distaff, and she cried to Cinderlad;
`Come
hither, come hither, my handsome son, and let me comb your hair for you.'
`Come
to me, then; come to me!' said Cinderlad, as he passed by jumping and running,
and keeping tight hold of one of the foals' tails.
When
he had got safely past the cleft in the rock, the youngest foal said:
`Get
on my back, for we have still a long way to go.' So the lad did this.
And
thus they journeyed onwards a long, long way.
`Dost
thou see anything now?' said the Foal.
`No,'
said Cinderlad.
So
they journeyed onwards a good bit farther.
`Dost
thou see anything now?' asked the Foal.
`Oh,
no,' said the lad.
When
they had gone thus for a long, long way, the Foal again asked:
`Dost
thou see anything now?'
`Yes,
now I see something that is white,' said Cinderlad. `It looks like the trunk of
a great thick birch tree.'
`Yes,
that is where we are to go in,' said the Foal.
When
they got to the trunk, the eldest foal broke it down on one side, and then they
saw a door where the trunk had been standing, and inside this there was a small
room, and in the room there was scarcely anything but a small fire-place and a
couple of benches, but behind the door hung a great rusty sword and a small
pitcher.
`Canst
thou wield that sword?' asked the Foal.
Cinderlad
tried, but could not do it; so he had to take a draught from the pitcher, and
then one more, and after that still another, and then he was able to wield the
sword with perfect ease.
`Good,'
said the Foal; `and now thou must take the sword away with thee, and with it
shalt thou cut off the heads of all seven of us on thy wedding-day, and then we
shall become princes again as we were before. For we are brothers of the
Princess whom thou art to have when thou canst tell the King what we eat and
drink, but there is a mighty Troll who has cast a spell over us. When thou hast
cut off our heads, thou must take the greatest care to lay each head at the
tail of the body to which it belonged before, and then the spell which the
Troll has cast upon us will lose all its power.'
Cinderlad
promised to do this, and then they went on farther,
When
they had travelled a long, long way, the Foal said:
`Dost
thou see anything?'
`No,'
said Cinderlad.
So
they went on a great distance farther.
`And
now?' inquired the Foal, `seest thou nothing now?'
`Alas!
no,' said Cinderlad.
So
they travelled onwards again, for many and many a mile, over hill and dale.
`Now,
then,' said the Foal, `dost thou not see anything now?'
`Yes,'
said Cinderlad; `now I see something like a bluish streak, far, far away.'
`That
is a river,' said the Foal, `and we have to cross it.'
There
was a long, handsome bridge over the river, and when they had got to the other
side of it they again travelled on a long, long way, and then once more the
Foal inquired if Cinderlad saw anything. Yes, this time he saw something that
looked black, far, far away, and was rather like a church tower.
`Yes,'
said the Foal, `we shall go into that.'
When
the Foals got into the churchyard they turned into men and looked like the sons
of a king, and their clothes were so magnificent that they shone with
splendour, and they went into the church and received bread and wine from the
priest, who was standing before the altar, and Cinderlad went in too. But when
the priest had laid his hands on the princes and read the blessing, they went
out of the church again, and Cinderlad went out too, but he took with him a
flask of wine and some consecrated bread. No sooner had the seven princes come
out into the churchyard than they became foals again, and Cinderlad got upon
the back of the youngest, and they returned by the way they had come, only they
went much, much faster.
First
they went over the bridge, and then past the trunk of the birch tree, and then
past the old hag who sat in the cleft of the rock spinning, and they went by so
fast that Cinderlad could not hear what the old hag screeched after him, but
just heard enough to understand that she was terribly enraged.
It
was all but dark when they got back to the King at nightfall, and he himself was
standing in the courtyard waiting for them.
`Hast
thou watched well and faithfully the whole day?' said the King to Cinderlad.
`I
have done my best,' replied Cinderlad.
`Then
thou canst tell me what my seven foals eat and drink?' asked the King.
So
Cinderlad pulled out the consecrated bread and the flask of wine, and showed
them to the King. `Here may you behold their meat, and here their drink,' said
he.
`Yes,
diligently and faithfully hast thou watched,' said the King, `and thou shalt have
the Princess and half the kingdom.'
So
all was made ready for the wedding, and the King said that it was to be so
stately and magnificent that everyone should hear of it, and everyone inquire
about it.
But
when they sat down to the marriage-feast, the bridegroom arose and went down to
the stable, for he said that he had forgotten something which he must go and
look to. When he got there, he did what the foals had bidden him, and cut off
the heads of all the seven. First the eldest, and then the second, and so on
according to their age, and he was extremely careful to lay each head at the
tail of the foal to which it had belonged, and when that was done, all the
foals became princes again. When he returned to the marriage-feast with the
seven princes, the King was so joyful that he both kissed Cinderlad and clapped
him on the back, and his bride was still more delighted with him than she had
been before.
`Half
my kingdom is thine already,' said the King, `and the other half shall be thine
after my death, for my sons can get countries and kingdoms for themselves now
that they have become princes again.' Therefore, as all may well believe, there
was joy and merriment at that wedding.[31]
[31]
From J. Moe.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f36]
THE
MARVELLOUS MUSICIAN
THERE
was once upon a time a marvellous musician. One day he was wandering through a
wood all by himself, thinking now of one thing, now of another, till there was
nothing else left to think about. Then he said to himself:
`Time
hangs very heavily on my hands when I'm all alone in the wood. I must try and
find a pleasant companion.'
So
he took his fiddle out, and fiddled till he woke the echoes round. After a time
a wolf came through the thicket and trotted up to the musician.
`Oh!
it's a Wolf, is it?' said he. `I've not the smallest wish for his society.'
But
the Wolf approached him and said:
`Oh,
my dear musician, how beautifully you play! I wish you'd teach me how it's
done.'
`That's
easily learned,' answered the fiddler; `you must only do exactly as I tell
you.'
`Of
course I will,' replied the Wolf. `I can promise that you will find me a most
apt pupil.'
So
they joined company and went on their way together, and after a time they came
to an old oak tree, which was hollow and had a crack in the middle of the
trunk.
`Now,'
said the Musician, `if you want to learn to fiddle, here's your chance. Lay
your front paws in this crack.'
The
Wolf did as he was told, and the Musician quickly seized a stone, and wedged
both his fore paws so firmly into the crack that he was held there, a fast
prisoner.
`Wait
there till I return,' said the Fiddler, and he went on his way.
After
a time he said to himself again:
`Time
hangs very heavily on my hands when I'm all alone in the wood; I must try and
find a companion.'
So
he drew out his fiddle, and fiddled away lustily. Presently a fox slunk through
the trees.
`Aha
I what have we here?' said the Musician. `A fox; well, I haven't the smallest
desire for his company.'
The
Fox came straight up to him and said:
`My
dear friend, how beautifully you play the fiddle; I would like to learn how you
do it.'
`Nothing
easier,' said the Musician. `if you'll promise to do exactly as I tell you.'
`Certainly,'
answered the Fox, `you have only to say the word.'
`Well,
then, follow me,' replied the Fiddler.
When
they had gone a bi of the way, they came to a path with high trees on each
side. Here the Musician halted, bent a stout hazel bough down to the ground
from one side of the path, and put his foot on the end of it to keep it down.
Then he bent a branch down from the other side and said:
`Give
me your left front paw, my little Fox, if you really wish to learn how it's
done.'
The
Fox did as he was told, and the Musician tied his front paw to the end of one
of the branches.
`Now,
my friend,' he said, `give me your right paw.'
This
he bound to the other branch, and having carefully seen that his knots were all
secure, he stepped off the ends of the branches, and they sprang back, leaving
the poor Fox suspended in mid-air.
`Just
you wait where you are till I return,' said the Musician, and he went on his
way again.
Once
more he said to himself:
`Time
hangs heavily on my hands when I'm all alone in the wood; I must try and find
another companion.'
So
he took out his fiddle and played as merrily as before. This time a little hare
came running up at the sound.
`Oh!
here comes a hare,' said the Musician; `I've not the smallest desire for his
company.'
`How
beautifully you play, dear Mr. Fiddler,' said the little Hare. `I wish I could
learn how you do it.'
`It's
easily learnt,' answered the Musician; `just do exactly as I tell you.'
`That
I will,' said the Hare, `you will find me a most attentive pupil.'
They
went on a bit together, till they came to a thin part of the wood, where they
found an aspen tree growing. The Musician bound a long cord round the little
Hare's neck, the other end of which he fastened to the tree.
`Now,
my merry little friend,' said the Musician, `run twenty times round the tree.'
The
little Hare obeyed, and when it had run twenty times round the tree, the cord
had twisted itself twenty times round the trunk, so that the poor little beast
was held a fast prisoner, and it might bite and tear as much as it liked, it
couldn't free itself, and the cord only cut its tender neck.
`Wait
there till I return,' said the Musician, and went on his way.
In
the meantime the Wolf had pulled and bitten and scratched at the stone, till at
last he succeeded in getting his paws out. Full of anger, he hurried after the
Musician, determined when he met him to tear him to pieces. When the Fox saw
him running by, he called out as loud as he could:
`Brother
Wolf, come to my rescue, the Musician has deceived me too.'
The
Wolf pulled the branches down, bit the cord in two, and set the Fox free. So
they went on their way together, both vowing vengeance on the Musician. They
found the poor imprisoned little Hare, and having set him free also, they all
set out to look for their enemy.
During
this time the Musician had once more played his fiddle, and had been more
fortunate in the result. The sounds pierced to the ears of a poor woodman, who
instantly left his work, and with his hatchet under his arm came to listen to
the music.
`At
last I've got a proper sort of companion,' said the Musician, `for it was a
human being I wanted all along, and not a wild animal.'
And
he began playing so enchantingly that the poor man stood there as if bewitched,
and his heart leapt for joy as he listened.
And
as he stood thus, the Wolf and Fox and little Hare came up, and the woodman saw
at once that they meant mischief. He lifted his glittering axe and placed
himself in front of the Musician, as much as to say: `If you touch a hair of
his head, beware, for you will have to answer for it to me.'
Then
the beasts were frightened, and they all three ran back into the wood, and the
Musician played the woodman one of his best tunes, by way of thanks, and then
continued his way.[32]
[32]
Grimm.
The
Red Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1890], at sacred-texts.com
[f37]
THE
STORY OF SIGURD
[This
is a very old story: the Danes who used to fight with the English in King
Alfred's time knew this story. They have carved on the rocks pictures of some
of the things that happen in the tale, and those carvings may still be seen.
Because it is so old and so beautiful the story is told here again, but it has
a sad ending--indeed it is all sad, and all about fighting and killing, as
might be expected from the Danes.]
ONCE
upon a time there was a King in the North who had won many wars, but now he was
old. Yet he took a new wife, and then another Prince, who wanted to have
married her, came up against him with a great army. The old King went out and
fought bravely, but at last his sword broke, and he was wounded and his men
fled. But in the night, when the battle was over, his young wife came out and
searched for him among the slain, and at last she found him, and asked whether
he might be healed. But he said `No,' his luck was gone, his sword was broken,
and he must die. And he told her that she would have a son, and that son would
be a great warrior, and would avenge him on the other King, his enemy. And he
bade her keep the broken pieces of the sword, to make a new sword for his son,
and that blade should be called Gram.
Then
he died. And his wife called her maid to her and said, `Let us change clothes,
and you shall be called by my name, and I by yours, lest the enemy finds us.'
So
this was done, and they hid in a wood, but there some strangers met them and
carried them off in a ship to Denmark. And when they were brought before the
King, he thought the maid looked like a Queen, and the Queen like a maid. So he
asked the Queen, `How do you know in the dark of night whether the hours are
wearing to the morning?'
And
she said:
`I
know because, when I was younger, I used to have to rise and light the fires,
and still I waken at the same time.'
`A
strange Queen to light the fires,' thought the King.
Then
he asked the Queen, who was dressed like a maid, `How do you know in the dark
of night whether the hours are wearing near the dawn?'
`My
father gave me a gold ring,' said she, `and always, ere the dawning, it grows
cold on my finger.'
`A
rich house where the maids wore gold,' said the King. `Truly you are no maid,
but a King's daughter.'
So
he treated her royally, and as time went on she had a son called Sigurd, a
beautiful boy and very strong. He had a tutor to be with him, and once the
tutor bade him go to the King and ask for a horse.
`Choose
a horse for yourself,' said the King; and Sigurd went to the wood, and there he
met an old man with a white beard, and said, `Come! help me in horse-choosing.'
Then
the old man said, `Drive all the horses into the river, and choose the one that
swims across.'
So
Sigurd drove them, and only one swam across. Sigurd chose him: his name was
Grani, and he came of Sleipnir's breed, and was the best horse in the world.
For Sleipnir was the horse of Odin, the God of the North, and was as swift as
the wind.
But
a day or two later his tutor said to Sigurd, `There is a great treasure of gold
hidden not far from here, and it would become you to win it.'
But
Sigurd answered, `I have heard stories of that treasure, and I know that the
dragon Fafnir guards it, and he is so huge and wicked that no man dares to go
near him.'
`He
is no bigger than other dragons,' said the tutor, `and if you were as brave as
your father you would not fear him.'
`I
am no coward,' says Sigurd; `why do you want me to fight with this dragon?'
Then
his tutor, whose name was Regin, told him that all this great hoard of red gold
had once belonged to his own father. And his father had three sons--the first
was Fafnir, the Dragon; the next was Otter, who could put on the shape of an
otter when he liked; and the next was himself, Regin, and he was a great smith
and maker of swords.
Now
there was at that time a dwarf called Andvari, who lived in a pool beneath a
waterfall, and there he had hidden a great hoard of gold. And one day Otter had
been fishing there, and had killed a salmon and eaten it, and was sleeping,
like an otter, on a stone. Then someone came by, and threw a stone at the otter
and killed it, and flayed off the skin, and took it to the house of Otter's
father. Then he knew his son was dead, and to punish the person who had killed
him he said he must have the Otter's skin filled with gold, and covered all
over with red gold, or it should go worse with him. Then the person who had
killed Otter went down and caught the Dwarf who owned all the treasure and took
it from him.
Only
one ring was left, which the Dwarf wore, and even that was taken from him.
Then
the poor Dwarf was very angry, and he prayed that the gold might never bring
any but bad luck to all the men who might own it, for ever.
Then
the otter skin was filled with gold and covered with gold, all but one hair,
and that was covered with the poor Dwarf's last ring.
But
it brought good luck to nobody. First Fafnir, the Dragon, killed his own
father, and then he went and wallowed on the gold, and would let his brother
have none, and no man dared go near it.
When
Sigurd heard the story he said to Regin:
`Make
me a good sword that I may kill this Dragon.'
So
Regin made a sword, and Sigurd tried it with a blow on a lump of iron, and the
sword broke.
Another
sword he made, and Sigurd broke that too.
Then
Sigurd went to his mother, and asked for the broken pieces of his father's
blade, and gave them to Regin. And he hammered and wrought them into a new
sword, so sharp that fire seemed to burn along its edges.
Sigurd
tried this blade on the lump of iron, and it did not break, but split the iron
in two. Then he threw a lock of wool into the river, and when it floated down
against the sword it was cut into two pieces. So Sigurd said that sword would
do. But before he went against the Dragon he led an army to fight the men who
had killed his father, and he slew their King, and took all his wealth, and
went home.
When
he had been at home a few days, he rode out with Regin one morning to the heath
where the Dragon used to lie. Then he saw the track which the Dragon made when
he went to a cliff to drink, and the track was as if a great river had rolled
along and left a deep valley.
Then
Sigurd went down into that deep place, and dug many pits in it, and in one of
the pits he lay hidden with his sword drawn. There he waited, and presently the
earth began to shake with the weight of the Dragon as he crawled to the water.
And a cloud of venom flew before him as he snorted and roared, so that it would
have been death to stand before him.
But
Sigurd waited till half of him had crawled over the pit, and then he thrust the
sword Gram right into his very heart.
Then
the Dragon lashed with his tail till stones broke and trees crashed about him.
Then
he spoke, as he died, and said:
`Whoever
thou art that hast slain me this gold shall be thy ruin, and the ruin of all
who own it.'
Sigurd
said:
`I
would touch none of it if by losing it I should never die. But all men die, and
no brave man lets death frighten him from his desire. Die thou, Fafnir,' and
then Fafnir died.
And
after that Sigurd was called Fafnir's Bane, and Dragonslayer.
Then
Sigurd rode back, and met Regin, and Regin asked him to roast Fafnir's heart
and let him taste of it.
So
Sigurd put the heart of Fafnir on a stake, and roasted it. But it chanced that
he touched it with his finger, and it burned him. Then he put his finger in his
mouth, and so tasted the heart of Fafnir.
Then
immediately he understood the language of birds, and he heard the Woodpeckers
say:
`There
is Sigurd roasting Fafnir's heart for another, when he should taste of it
himself and learn all wisdom.'
The
next bird said:
`There
lies Regin, ready to betray Sigurd, who trusts him.'
The
third bird said:
`Let
him cut off Regin's head, and keep all the gold to himself.'
The
fourth bird said:
`That
let him do, and then ride over Hindfell, to the place where Brynhild sleeps.'
When
Sigurd heard all this, and how Regin was plotting to betray him, he cut off
Regin's head with one blow of the sword Gram.
Then
all 'he birds broke out singing:
`We
know a fair maid, A fair maiden sleeping; Sigurd, be not afraid, Sigurd, win
thou the maid Fortune is keeping.
`High
over Hindfell Red fire is flaming, There doth the maiden dwell She that should
love thee well, Meet for thy taming.
`There
must she sleep till thou Comest for her waking Rise up and ride, for now Sure
she will swear the vow Fearless of breaking.'
Then
Sigurd remembered how the story went that somewhere, far away, there was a
beautiful lady enchanted. She was under a spell, so that she must always sleep
in a castle surrounded by flaming fire; there she must sleep for ever till
there came a knight who would ride through the fire and waken her. There he
determined to go, but first he rode right down the horrible trail of Fafnir.
And Fafnir had lived in a cave with iron doors, a cave dug deep down in the
earth, and full of gold bracelets, and crowns, and rings; and there, too,
Sigurd found the Helm of Dread, a golden helmet, and whoever wears it is
invisible. All these he piled on the back of the good horse Grani, and then he
rode south to Hindfell.
Now
it was night, and on the crest of the hill Sigurd saw a red fire blazing up
into the sky, and within the flame a castle, and a banner on the topmost tower.
Then he set the horse Grani at the fire, and he leaped through it lightly, as
if it had been through the heather. So Sigurd went within the castle door, and
there he saw someone sleeping, clad all in armour. Then he took the helmet off
the head of the sleeper, and behold, she was a most beautiful lady. And she
wakened and said, `Ah! is it Sigurd, Sigmund's son, who has broken the curse,
and comes here to waken me at last?'
This
curse came upon her when the thorn of the tree of sleep ran into her hand long
ago as a punishment because she had displeased Odin the God. Long ago, too, she
had vowed never to marry a man who knew fear, and dared not ride through the
fence of flaming fire. For she was a warrior maid herself, and went armed into
the battle like a man. But now she and Sigurd loved each other, and promised to
be true to each other, and he gave her a ring, and it was the last ring taken
from the dwarf Andvari. Then Sigurd rode away, and he came to the house of a
King who had a fair daughter. Her name was Gudrun, and her mother was a witch.
Now Gudrun fell in love with Sigurd, but he was always talking of Brynhild, how
beautiful she was and how dear. So one day Gudrun's witch mother put poppy and
forgetful drugs in a magical cup, and bade Sigurd drink to her health, and he
drank, and instantly he forgot poor Brynhild and he loved Gudrun, and they were
married with great rejoicings.
Now
the witch, the mother of Gudrun, wanted her son Gunnar to marry Brynhild, and
she bade him ride out with Sigurd and go and woo her. So forth they rode to her
father's house, for Brynhild had quite gone out of Sigurd's mind by reason of
the witch's wine, but she remembered him and loved him still. Then Brynhild's
father told Gunnar that she would marry none but him who could ride the flame
in front of her enchanted tower, and thither they rode, and Gunnar set his
horse at the flame, but he would not face it. Then Gunnar tried Sigurd's horse
Grani, but he would not move with Gunnar on his back. Then Gunnar remembered
witchcraft that his mother had taught him, and by his magic he made Sigurd look
exactly like himself, and he looked exactly like Gunnar. Then Sigurd, in the
shape of Gunnar and in his mail, mounted on Grani, and Grani leaped the fence
of fire, and Sigurd went in and found Brynhild, but he did not remember her
yet, because of the forgetful medicine in the cup of the witch's wine.
Now
Brynhild had no help but to promise she would be his wife, the wife of Gunnar
as she supposed, for Sigurd wore Gunnar's shape, and she had sworn to wed
whoever should ride the flames. And he gave her a ring, and she gave him back
the ring he had given her before in his own shape as Sigurd, and it was the
last ring of that poor dwarf Andvari. Then he rode out again, and he and Gunnar
changed shapes, and each was himself again, and they went home to the witch
Queen's, and Sigurd gave the dwarf's ring to his wife, Gudrun. And Brynhild
went to her father, and said that a King had come called Gunnar, and had ridden
the fire, and she must marry him. `Yet I thought,' she said, `that no man could
have done this deed but Sigurd, Fafnir's bane, who was my true love. But he has
forgotten me, and my promise I must keep.'
So
Gunnar and Brynhild were married, though it was not Gunnar but Sigurd in
Gunnar's shape, that had ridden the fire.
And
when the wedding was over and all the feast, then the magic of the witch's wine
went out of Sigurd's brain, and he remembered all. He remembered how he had
freed Brynhild from the spell, and how she was his own true love, and how he
had forgotten and had married another woman, and won Brynhild to be the wife of
another man.
But
he was brave, and he spoke not a word of it to the others to make them unhappy.
Still he could not keep away the curse which was to come on every one who owned
the treasure of the dwarf Andvari, and his fatal golden ring.
And
the curse soon came upon all of them. For one day, when Brynhild and Gudrun
were bathing, Brynhild waded farthest out into the river, and said she did that
to show she was Guirun's superior. For her husband, she said, had ridden
through the flame when no other man dared face it.
Then
Gudrun was very angry, and said that it was Sigurd, not Gunnar, who had ridden the
flame, and had received from Brynhild that fatal ring, the ring of the dwarf
Andvari.
Then
Brynhild saw the ring which Sigard had given to Gudrun, and she knew it and
knew all, and she turned as pale as a dead woman, and went home. All that
evening she never spoke. Next day she told Gunnar, her husband, that he was a
coward and a liar, for he had never ridden the flame, but had sent Sigurd to do
it for him, and pretended that he had done it himself. And she said he would
never see her glad in his hall, never drinking wine, never playing chess, never
embroidering with the golden thread, never speaking words of kindness. Then she
rent all her needlework asunder and wept aloud, so that everyone in the house
heard her. For her heart was broken, and her pride was broken in the same hour.
She had lost her true love, Sigurd, the slayer of Fafnir, and she was married
to a man who was a liar.
Then
Sigurd came and tried to comfort her, but she would not listen, and said she
wished the sword stood fast in his heart.
`Not
long to wait,' he said, `till the bitter sword stands fast in my heart, and
thou will not live long when I am dead. But, dear Brynhild, live and be
comforted, and love Gunnar thy husband, and I will give thee all the gold, the
treasure of the dragon Fafnir.'
Brynhild
said:
`It
is too late.'
Then
Sigurd was so grieved and his heart so swelled in his breast that it burst the
steel rings of his shirt of mail.
Sigurd
went out and Brynhild determined to slay him. She mixed serpent's venom and
wolf's flesh, and gave them in one dish to her husband's younger brother, and
when he had tasted them he was mad, and he went into Sigurd's chamber while he
slept and pinned him to the bed with a sword. But Sigurd woke, and caught the
sword Gram into his hand, and threw it at the man as he fled, and the sword cut
him in twain. Thus died Sigurd, Fafnir's bane, whom no ten men could have slain
in fair fight. Then Gudrun wakened and saw him dead, and she moaned aloud, and
Brynhild heard her and laughed; but the kind horse Grani lay down and died of
very grief. And then Brynhild fell a-weeping till her heart broke. So they
attired Sigurd in all his golden armour, and built a great pile of wood on
board his ship, and at night laid on it the dead Sigurd and the dead Brynhild,
and the good horse, Grani, and set fire to it, and launched the ship. And the
wind bore it blazing out to sea, flaming into the dark. So there were Sigurd
and Brynhild burned together, and the curse of the dwarf Andvari was fulfilled.[33]
[33]
The Volsunga Saga.
0 Comments
If you have any Misunderstanding Please let me know