Rubezahl
Over
all the vast under-world the mountain Gnome Rubezahl was lord; and busy enough
the care of his dominions kept him. There were the endless treasure chambers to
be gone through, and the hosts of gnomes to be kept to their tasks. Some built
strong barriers to hold back the fiery vapours to change dull stones to
precious metal, or were hard at work filling every cranny of the rocks with
diamonds and rubies; for Rubezahl loved all pretty things. Sometimes the fancy
would take him to leave those gloomy regions, and come out upon the green earth
for a while, and bask in the sunshine and hear the birds sing. And as gnomes
live many hundreds of years he saw strange things. For, the first time he came
up, the great hills were covered with thick forests, in which wild animals
roamed, and Rubezahl watched the fierce fights between bear and bison, or
chased the grey wolves, or amused himself by rolling great rocks down into the
desolate valleys, to hear the thunder of their fall echoing among the hills.
But the next time he ventured above ground, what was his surprise to find
everything changed! The dark woods were hewn down, and in their place appeared
blossoming orchards surrounding cosy-looking thatched cottages; for every
chimney the blue smoke curled peacefully into the air, sheep and oxen fed in
the flowery meadows, while from the shade of the hedges came the music of the
shepherd's pipe. The strangeness and pleasantness of the sight so delighted the
gnome that he never thought of resenting the intrusion of these unexpected
guests, who, without saying 'by your leave' or 'with your leave,' had made
themselves so very much at home upon is hills; nor did he wish to interfere
with their doings, but left them in quiet possession of their homes, as a good
householder leaves in peace the swallows who have built their nests under his
eaves. He was indeed greatly minded to make friends with this being called
'man,' so, taking the form of an old field labourer, he entered the service of
a farmer. Under his care all the crops flourished exceedingly, but the master
proved to be wasteful and ungrateful, and Rubezahl soon left him, and went to
be shepherd to his next neighbour. He tended the flock so diligently, and knew
so well where to lead the sheep to the sweetest pastures, and where among the
hills to look for any who strayed away, that they too prospered under his care,
and not one was lost or torn by wolves; but this new master was a hard man, and
begrudged him his well-earned wages. So he ran away and went to serve the
judge. Here he upheld the law with might and main, and was a terror to thieves
and evildoers; but the judge was a bad man, who took bribes, and despised the
law. Rubezahl would not be the tool of an unjust man, and so he told his
master, who thereupon ordered him to be thrown in prison. Of course that did
not trouble the gnome at all, he simply got out through the keyhole, and went
away down to his underground palace, very much disappointed by his first
experience of mankind. But, as time went on, he forgot the disagreeable things
that had happened to him, and thought he would take another look at the upper world.
So
he stole into the valley, keeping himself carefully hidden in copse or
hedgerow, and very soon met with an adventure; for, peeping through a screen of
leaves, he saw before him a green lawn where stood a charming maiden, fresh as
the spring, and beautiful to look upon. Around her upon the grass lay her young
companions, as if they had thrown themselves down to rest after some merry
game. Beyond them flowed a little brook, into which a waterfall leapt from a
high rock, filling the air with its pleasant sound, and making a coolness even
in the sultry noontide. The sight of the maiden so pleased the gnome that, for
the first time, he wished himself a mortal; and, longing for a better view of
the gay company, he changed himself into a raven and perched upon an oaktree
which overhung the brook. But he soon found that this was not at all a good
plan. He could only see with a raven's eyes, and feel as a raven feels; and a
nest of field-mice at the foot of the tree interested him far more than the
sport of the maidens. When he understood this he flew down again in a great
hurry into the thicket, and took the form of a handsome young man--that was the
best way--and he fell in love with the girl then and there. The fair maiden was
the daughter of the king of the country, and she often wandered in the forest
with her play fellows gathering the wild flowers and fruits, till the midday
heat drove the merry band to the shady lawn by the brook to rest, or to bathe
in the cool waters. On this particular morning the fancy took them to wander
off again into the wood. This was Master Rubezahl's opportunity. Stepping out
of his hiding-place he stood in the midst of the little lawn, weaving his magic
spells, till slowly all about him changed, and when the maidens returned at
noon to their favourite resting-place they stood lost in amazement, and almost
fancied that they must be dreaming. The red rocks had become white marble and
alabaster; the stream that murmured and struggled before in its rocky bed,
flowed in silence now in its smooth channel, from which a clear fountain leapt,
to fall again in showers of diamond drops, now on this side now on that, as the
wandering breeze scattered it.
Daisies
and forget-me-nots fringed its brink, while tall hedges of roses and jasmine
ringed it round, making the sweetest and daintiest bower imaginable. To the
right and left of the waterfall opened out a wonderful grotto, its walls and
arches glittering with many-coloured rock-crystals, while in every niche were
spread out strange fruits and sweetmeats, the very sight of which made the
princess long to taste them. She hesitated a while, however, scarcely able to
believe her eyes, and not knowing if she should enter the enchanted spot or fly
from it. But at length curiosity prevailed, and she and her companions explored
to their heart's content, and tasted and examined everything, running hither
and thither in high glee, and calling merrily to each other.
At
last, when they were quite weary, the princess cried out suddenly that nothing
would content her but to bathe in the marble pool, which certainly did look
very inviting; and they all went gaily to this new amusement. The princess was
ready first, but scarcely had she slipped over the rim of the pool when
down--down--down she sank, and vanished in its depths before her frightened
playmates could seize her by so much as a lock of her floating golden hair!
Loudly
did they weep and wail, running about the brink of the pool, which looked so
shallow and so clear, but which had swallowed up their princess before their
eyes. They even sprang into the water and tried to dive after her, but in vain;
they only floated like corks in the enchanted pool, and could not keep under
water for a second.
They
saw at last that there was nothing for it but to carry to the king the sad
tidings of his beloved daughter's disappearance. And what great weeping and
lamentation there was in the palace when the dreadful news was told! The king
tore his robes, dashed his golden crown from his head, and hid his face in his
purple mantle for grief and anguish at the loss of the princess. After the
first outburst of wailing, however, he took heart and hurried off to see for
himself the scene of this strange adventure, thinking, as people will in
sorrow, that there might be some mistake after all. But when he reached the
spot, behold, all was changed again! The glittering grotto described to him by
the maidens had completely vanished, and so had the marble bath, the bower of
jasmine; instead, all was a tangle of flowers, as it had been of old. The king
was so much perplexed that he threatened the princess's playfellows with all
sorts of punishments if they would not confess something about her
disappearance; but as they only repeated the same story he presently put down
the whole affair to the work of some sprite or goblin, and tried to console
himself for his loss by ordering a grand hunt; for kings cannot bear to be
troubled about anything long.
Meanwhile
the princess was not at all unhappy in the palace of her elfish lover.
When
the water-nymphs, who were hiding in readiness, had caught her and dragged her
out of the sight of her terrified maidens, she herself had not had time to be
frightened. They swam with her quickly by strange underground ways to a palace
so splendid that her father's seemed but a poor cottage in comparison with it,
and when she recovered from her astonishment she found herself seated upon a
couch, wrapped in a wonderful robe of satin fastened with a silken girdle,
while beside her knelt a young man who whispered the sweetest speeches
imaginable in her ear. The gnome, for he it was, told her all about himself and
his great underground kingdom, and presently led her through the many rooms and
halls of the palace, and showed her the rare and wonderful things displayed in
them till she was fairly dazzled at the sight of so much splendour. On three
sides of the castle lay a lovely garden with masses of gay, sweet flowers, and
velvet lawns all cool and shady, which pleased the eye of the princess. The
fruit trees were hung with golden and rosy apples, and nightingales sang in
every bush, as the gnome and the princess wandered in the leafy alleys,
sometimes gazing at the moon, sometimes pausing to gather the rarest flowers
for her adornment. And all the time he was thinking to himself that never,
during the hundreds of years he had lived, had he seen so charming a maiden.
But the princess felt no such happiness; in spite of all the magic delights
around her she was sad, though she tried to seem content for fear of
displeasing the gnome. However, he soon perceived her melancholy, and in a
thousand ways strove to dispel the cloud, but in vain. At last he said to
himself: 'Men are sociable creatures, like bees or ants. Doubtless this lovely
mortal is pining for company. Who is there I can find for her to talk to?'
Thereupon
he hastened into the nearest filed and dug up a dozen or so of different
roots--carrots, turnips, and radishes--and laying them carefully in an elegant
basket brought them to the princess, who sat pensive in the shade of the
rose-bower.
'Loveliest
daughter of earth,' said the gnome, 'banish all sorrow; no more shall you be
lonely in my dwelling. In this basket is all you need to make this spot
delightful to you. Take this little many-coloured wand, and with a touch give
to each root the form you desire to see.'
With
this he left her, and the princess, without an instant's delay, opened the
basket, and touching a turnip, cried eagerly: 'Brunhilda, my dear Brunhilda!
come to me quickly!' And sure enough there was Brunhilda, joyfully hugging and
kissing her beloved princess, and chattering as gaily as in the old days.
This
sudden appearance was so delightful that the princess could hardly believe her
own eyes, and was quite beside herself with the joy of having her dear
playfellow with her once more. Hand in hand they wandered about the enchanted
garden, and gathered the golden apples from the trees, and when they were tired
of this amusement the princess led her friend through all the wonderful rooms
of the palace, until at last they came to the one in which were kept all the
marvellous dresses and ornaments the gnome had given to his hoped-for bride.
There they found so much to amuse them that the hours passed like minutes. Veils,
girdles, and necklaces were tried on and admired, the imitation Brunhilda knew
so well how to behave herself, and showed so much taste that nobody would ever
have suspected that she was nothing but a turnip after all. The gnome, who had
secretly been keeping an eye upon them, was very pleased with himself for
having so well understood the heart of a woman; and the princess seemed to him
even more charming than before. She did not forget to touch the rest of the
roots with her magic wand, and soon had all her maidens about her, and even, as
she had two tiny radishes to spare, her favourite cat, and her little dog whose
name was Beni.
And
now all went cheerfully in the castle. The princess gave to each of the maidens
her task, and never was mistress better served. For a whole week she enjoyed
the delight of her pleasant company undisturbed. They all sang, they danced,
they played from morning to night; only the princess noticed that day by day
the fresh young faces of her maidens grew pale and wan, and the mirror in the
great marble hall showed her that she alone still kept her rosy bloom, while
Brunhilda and the rest faded visibly. They assured her that all was well with
them; but, nevertheless, they continued to waste away, and day by day it became
harder to them to take part in the games of the princess, till at last, one
fine morning, when the princess started from bed and hastened out to join her
gay playfellows, she shuddered and started back at the sight of a group of
shrivelled crones, with bent backs and trembling limbs, who supported their
tottering steps with staves and crutches, and coughed dismally. A little nearer
to the hearth lay the once frolicsome Beni, with all four feet stretched
stiffly out, while the sleek cat seemed too weak to raise his head from his
velvet cushion.
The
horrified princess fled to the door to escape from the sight of this mournful
company, and called loudly for the gnome, who appeared at once, humbly anxious
to do her bidding.
'Malicious
Sprite,' she cried, 'why do you begrudge me my playmates --the greatest delight
of my lonely hours? Isn't this solitary life in such a desert bad enough
without your turning the castle into a hospital for the aged? Give my maidens
back their youth and health this very minute, or I will never love you!'
'Sweetest
and fairest of damsels,' cried the gnome, 'do not be angry; everything that is
in my power I will do--but do not ask the impossible. So long as the sap was
fresh in the roots the magic staff could keep them in the forms you desired,
but as the sap dried up they withered away. But never trouble yourself about
that, dearest one, a basket of fresh turnips will soon set matters right, and
you can speedily call up again every form you wish to see. The great green
patch in the garden will prove you with a more lively company.'
So
saying the gnome took himself off. And the princess with her magic wand touched
the wrinkled old women, and left them the withered roots they really were, to
be thrown upon the rubbish heap; and with light feet skipped off across to the
meadow to take possession of the freshly filled basket. But to her surprise she
could not find it anywhere. Up and down the garden she searched, spying into
every corner, but not a sign of it was to be found. By the trellis of grape
vines she met the gnome, who was so much embarrassed at the sight of her that
she became aware of his confusion while he was still quite a long way off.
'You
are trying to tease me,' she cried, as soon as she saw him. 'Where have you
hidden the basket? I have been looking for it at least an hour.'
'Dear
queen of my heart,' answered he, 'I pray you to forgive my carelessness. I
promised more than I could perform. I have sought all over the land for the
roots you desire; but they are gathered in, and lie drying in musty cellars,
and the fields are bare and desolate, for below in the valley winter reigns,
only here in your presence spring is held fast, and wherever your foot is set
the gay flowers bloom. Have patience for a little, and then without fail you
shall have your puppets to play with.'
Almost
before the gnome had finished, the disappointed princess turned away, and
marched off to her own apartments, without deigning to answer him.
The
gnome, however, set off above ground as speedily as possible, and disguising
himself as a farmer, bought an ass in the nearest market-town, and brought it
back loaded with sacks of turnip, carrot, and radish seed. With this he sowed a
great field, and sent a vast army of his goblins to watch and tend it, and to
bring up the fiery rivers from the heart of the earth near enough to warm and
encourage the sprouting seeds. Thus fostered they grew and flourished
marvellously, and promised a goodly crop.
The
princess wandered about the field day by day, no other plants or fruits in all
her wonderful garden pleased her as much as these roots; but still her eyes
were full of discontent. And, best of all, she loved to while away the hours in
a shady fir-wood, seated upon the bank of a little stream, into which she would
cast the flowers she had gathered and watch them float away.
The
gnome tried hard by every means in his power to please the princess and win her
love, but little did he guess the real reason of his lack of success. He
imagined that she was too young and inexperienced to care for him; but that was
a mistake, for the truth was that another image already filled her heart. The
young Prince Ratibor, whose lands joined her father's, had won the heart of the
princess; and the lovers had been looking forward to the coming of their
wedding-day when the bride's mysterious disappearance took place. The sad news
drove Ratibor distracted, and as the days went on, and nothing could be heard
of the princess, he forsook his castle and the society of men, and spent his
days in the wild forests, roaming about and crying her name aloud to the trees
and rocks. Meanwhile, the maiden, in her gorgeous prison, sighed in secret over
her grief, not wishing to arouse the gnome's suspicions. In her own mind she
was wondering if by any means she might escape from her captivity, and at last
she hit upon a plan.
By
this time spring once more reigned in the valley, and the gnome sent the fires
back to their places in the deeps of the earth, for the roots which they had kept
warm through all the cruel winter hand now come to their full size. Day by day
the princess pulled up some of them, and made experiments with them, conjuring
up now this longed-for person, and now that, just for the pleasure of seeing
them as they appeared; but she really had another purpose in view.
One
day she changed a tiny turnip into a bee, and sent him off to bring her some
news of her lover.
'Fly,
dear little bee, towards the east,' said she, 'to my beloved Ratibor, and
softly hum into his ear that I love him only, but that I am a captive in the
gnome's palace under the mountains. Do not forget a single word of my greeting,
and bring me back a message from my beloved.'
So
the bee spread his shining wings and flew away to do as he was bidden; but
before he was out of sight a greedy swallow made a snatch at him, and to the
great grief of the princess her messenger was eaten up then and there.
After
that, by the power of the wonderful wand she summoned a cricket, and taught him
this greeting:
'Hop,
little cricket, to Ratibor, and chirp in his ear that I love him only, but that
I am held captive by the gnome in his palace under the mountains.'
So
the cricket hopped off gaily, determined to do his best to deliver his message;
but, alas! a long-legged stork who was prancing along the same road caught him
in her cruel beak, and before he could say a word he had disappeared down her
throat.
These
two unlucky ventures did not prevent the princess from trying once more.
This
time she changed the turnip into a magpie.
'Flutter
from tree to tree, chattering bird,' said she, 'till you come to Ratibor, my
love. Tell him that I am a captive, and bid him come with horses and men, the
third day from this, to the hill that rises from the Thorny Valley.'
The
magpie listened, hopped awhile from branch to branch, and then darted away, the
princess watching him anxiously as far as she could see.
Now
Prince Ratibor was still spending his life in wandering about the woods, and
not even the beauty of the spring could soothe his grief.
One
day, as he sat in the shade of an oak tree, dreaming of his lost princess, and
sometimes crying her name aloud, he seemed to hear another voice reply to his,
and, starting up, he gazed around him, but he could see no one, and he had just
made up his mind that he must be mistaken, when the same voice called again,
and, looking up sharply, he saw a magpie which hopped to and fro among the
twigs. Then Ratibor heard with surprise that the bird was indeed calling him by
name.
'Poor
chatterpie,' said he; 'who taught you to say that name, which belongs to an
unlucky mortal who wishes the earth would open and swallow up him and his
memory for ever?'
Thereupon
he caught up a great stone, and would have hurled it at the magpie, if it had
not at that moment uttered the name of the princess.
This
was so unexpected that the prince's arm fell helplessly to his side at the
sound, and he stood motionless.
But
the magpie in the tree, who, like all the rest of his family, was not happy
unless he could be for ever chattering, began to repeat the message the
princess had taught him; and as soon as he understood it, Prince Ratibor's
heart was filed with joy. All his gloom and misery vanished in a moment, and he
anxiously questioned the welcome messenger as to the fate of the princess.
But
the magpie knew no more than the lesson he had learnt, so he soon fluttered
away; while the prince hurried back to his castle to gather together a troop of
horsemen, full of courage for whatever might befall.
The
princess meanwhile was craftily pursuing her plan of escape. She left off
treating the gnome with coldness and indifference; indeed, there was a look in
her eyes which encouraged him to hope that she might some day return his love,
and the idea pleased him mightily. The next day, as soon as the sun rose, she
made her appearance decked as a bride, in the wonderful robes and jewels which
the fond gnome had prepared for her. Her golden hair was braided and crowned
with myrtle blossoms, and her flowing veil sparkled with gems. In these
magnificent garments she went to meet the gnome upon the great terrace.
'Loveliest
of maidens,' he stammered, bowing low before her, 'let me gaze into your dear
eyes, and read in them that you will no longer refuse my love, but will make me
the happiest being the sun shines upon.'
So
saying he would have drawn aside her veil; but the princess only held it more
closely about her.
'Your
constancy has overcome me,' she said; 'I can no longer oppose your wishes. But
believe my words, and suffer this veil still to hide my blushes and tears.'
'Why
tears, beloved one?' cried the gnome anxiously; 'every tear of yours falls upon
my heart like a drop of molten gold. Greatly as I desire your love, I do not
ask a sacrifice.'
'Ah!'
cried the false princess, 'why do you misunderstand my tears? My heart answers
to your tenderness, and yet I am fearful. A wife cannot always charm, and
though YOU will never alter, the beauty of mortals is as a flower that fades.
How can I be sure that you will always be as loving and charming as you are
now?'
'Ask
some proof, sweetheart,' said he. 'Put my obedience and my patience to some
test by which you can judge of my unalterable love.'
'Be
it so,' answered the crafty maiden. 'Then give me just one proof of your
goodness. Go! count the turnips in yonder meadow. My wedding feast must not
lack guests. They shall provide me with bride-maidens too. But beware lest you
deceive me, and do not miss a single one. That shall be the test of your truth
towards me.'
Unwilling
as the gnome was to lose sight of his beautiful bride for a moment, he obeyed
her commands without delay, and hurried off to begin his task. He skipped along
among the turnips as nimble as a grasshopper, and had soon counted them all;
but, to be quite certain that he had made no mistake, he thought he would just
run over them again. This time, to his great annoyance, the number was
different; so he reckoned them for the third time, but now the number was not
the same as either of the previous ones! And this was hardly to be wondered at,
as his mind was full of the princess's pretty looks and words.
As
for the maiden, no sooner was her deluded lover fairly out of sight than she
began to prepare for flight. She had a fine fresh turnip hidden close at hand,
which she changed into a spirited horse, all saddled and bridled, and,
springing upon its back, she galloped away over hill and dale till she reached
the Thorny Valley, and flung herself into the arms of her beloved Prince
Ratibor.
Meanwhile
the toiling gnome went through his task over and over again till his back ached
and his head swam, and he could no longer put two and two together; but as he
felt tolerably certain of the exact number of turnips in the field, big and
little together, he hurried back eager to prove to his beloved one what a
delightful and submissive husband he would be. He felt very well satisfied with
himself as he crossed the mossy lawn to the place where he had left her; but, alas!
she was no longer there.
He
searched every thicket and path, he looked behind every tree, and gazed into
every pond, but without success; then he hastened into the palace and rushed
from room to room, peering into every hole and corner and calling her by name;
but only echo answered in the marble halls--there was neither voice nor
footstep.
Then
he began to perceive that something was amiss, and, throwing off the mortal
form that encumbered him, he flew out of the palace, and soared high into the
air, and saw the fugitive princess in the far distance just as the swift horse
carried her across the boundary of his dominions.
Furiously
did the enraged gnome fling two great clouds together, and hurl a thunderbolt
after the flying maiden, splintering the rocky barriers which had stood a
thousand years. But his fury was vain, the thunderclouds melted away into a
soft mist, and the gnome, after flying about for a while in despair, bewailing
to the four winds his unhappy fate, went sorrowfully back to the palace, and
stole once more through every room, with many sighs and lamentations. He passed
through the gardens which for him had lost their charm, and the sight of the
princess's footprints on the golden sand of the pathway renewed his grief. All
was lonely, empty, sorrowful; and the forsaken gnome resolved that he would
have no more dealings with such false creatures as he had found men to be.
Thereupon
he stamped three times upon the earth, and the magic palace, with all its
treasures, vanished away into the nothingness out of which he had called it;
and the gnome fled once more to the depths of his underground kingdom.
While
all this was happening, Prince Ratibor was hurrying away with his prize to a
place of safety. With great pomp and triumph he restored the lovely princess to
her father, and was then and there married to her, and took her back with him
to his own castle.
But
long after she was dead, and her children too, the villagers would tell the
tale of her imprisonment underground, as they sat carving wood in the winter
nights.
[Volksmahrchen
der Deutschen.]
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