THE
LUTE PLAYER
Once
upon a time there was a king and queen who lived happily and comfortably
together. They were very fond of each other and had nothing to worry them, but
at last the king grew restless. He longed to go out into the world, to try his
strength in battle against some enemy and to win all kinds of honour and glory.
So
he called his army together and gave orders to start for a distant country
where a heathen king ruled who ill-treated or tormented everyone he could lay
his hands on. The king then gave his parting orders and wise advice to his
ministers, took a tender leave of his wife, and set off with his army across
the seas.
I
cannot say whether the voyage was short or long; but at last he reached the
country of the heathen king and marched on, defeating all who came in his way.
But this did not last long, for in time he came to a mountain pass, where a
large army was waiting for him, who put his soldiers to flight, and took the
king himself prisoner.
He
was carried off to the prison where the heathen king kept his captives, and now
our poor friend had a very bad time indeed. All night long the prisoners were
chained up, and in the morning they were yoked together like oxen and had to
plough the land till it grew dark.
This
state of things went on for three years before the king found any means of
sending news of himself to his dear queen, but at last he contrived to send
this letter: 'Sell all our castles and palaces, and put all our treasures in
pawn and come and deliver me out of this horrible prison.'
The
queen received the letter, read it, and wept bitterly as she said to herself,
'How can I deliver my dearest husband? If I go myself and the heathen king sees
me he will just take me to be one of his wives. If I were to send one of the
ministers!--but I hardly know if I can depend on them.'
She
thought, and thought, and at last an idea came into her head.
She
cut off all her beautiful long brown hair and dressed herself in boy's clothes.
Then she took her lute and, without saying anything to anyone, she went forth
into the wide world.
She
travelled through many lands and saw many cities, and went through many
hardships before she got to the town where the heathen king lived. When she got
there she walked all round the palace and at the back she saw the prison. Then
she went into the great court in front of the palace, and taking her lute in
her hand, she began to play so beautifully that one felt as though one could
never hear enough.
After
she had played for some time she began to sing, and her voice was sweeter than
the lark's:
'I
come from my own country far Into this foreign land, Of all I own I take alone
My sweet lute in my hand.
'Oh!
who will thank me for my song, Reward my simple lay? Like lover's sighs it
still shall rise To greet thee day by day.
'I
sing of blooming flowers Made sweet by sun and rain; Of all the bliss of love's
first kiss, And parting's cruel pain.
'Of
the sad captive's longing Within his prison wall, Of hearts that sigh when none
are nigh To answer to their call.
'My
song begs for your pity, And gifts from out your store, And as I play my gentle
lay I linger near your door.
'And
if you hear my singing Within your palace, sire, Oh! give, I pray, this happy
day, To me my heart's desire.'
No
sooner had the heathen king heard this touching song sung by such a lovely
voice, than he had the singer brought before him.
'Welcome,
O lute player,' said he. 'Where do you come from?'
'My
country, sire, is far away across many seas. For years I have been wandering
about the world and gaining my living by my music.'
'Stay
here then a few days, and when you wish to leave I will give you what you ask
for in your song--your heart's desire.'
So
the lute player stayed on in the palace and sang and played almost all day long
to the king, who could never tire of listening and almost forgot to eat or drink
or to torment people.
He
cared for nothing but the music, and nodded his head as he declared, 'That's
something like playing and singing. It makes me feel as if some gentle hand had
lifted every care and sorrow from me.'
After
three days the lute player came to take leave of the king.
'Well,'
said the king, 'what do you desire as your reward?'
'Sire,
give me one of your prisoners. You have so many in your prison, and I should be
glad of a companion on my journeys. When I hear his happy voice as I travel
along I shall think of you and thank you.'
'Come
along then,' said the king, 'choose whom you will.' And he took the lute player
through the prison himself.
The
queen walked about amongst the prisoners, and at length she picked out her husband
and took him with her on her journey. They were long on their way, but he never
found out who she was, and she led him nearer and nearer to his own country.
When
they reached the frontier the prisoner said:
'Let
me go now, kind lad; I am no common prisoner, but the king of this country. Let
me go free and ask what you will as your reward.'
'Do
not speak of reward,' answered the lute player. 'Go in peace.'
'Then
come with me, dear boy, and be my guest.'
'When
the proper time comes I shall be at your palace,' was the reply, and so they
parted.
The
queen took a short way home, got there before the king and changed her dress.
An
hour later all the people in the palace were running to and fro and crying out:
'Our king has come back! Our king has returned to us.'
The
king greeted every one very kindly, but he would not so much as look at the
queen.
Then
he called all his council and ministers together and said to them:
'See
what sort of a wife I have. Here she is falling on my neck, but when I was
pining in prison and sent her word of it she did nothing to help me.'
And
his council answered with one voice, 'Sire, when news was brought from you the
queen disappeared and no one knew where she went. She only returned to-day.'
Then
the king was very angry and cried, 'Judge my faithless wife!
Never
would you have seen your king again, if a young lute player had not delivered
him. I shall remember him with love and gratitude as long as I live.'
Whilst
the king was sitting with his council, the queen found time to disguise
herself. She took her lute, and slipping into the court in front of the palace
she sang, clear and sweet:
'I
sing the captive's longing Within his prison wall, Of hearts that sigh when
none are nigh To answer to their call.
'My
song begs for your pity, And gifts from out your store, And as I play my gentle
lay I linger near your door.
'And
if you hear my singing Within your palace, sire, Oh! give, I pray, this happy
day, To me my heart's desire.'
As
soon as the king heard this song he ran out to meet the lute player, took him
by the hand and led him into the palace.
'Here,'
he cried, 'is the boy who released me from my prison. And now, my true friend,
I will indeed give you your heart's desire.'
'I
am sure you will not be less generous than the heathen king was, sire. I ask of
you what I asked and obtained from him. But this time I don't mean to give up
what I get. I want YOU--yourself!'
And
as she spoke she threw off her long cloak and everyone saw it was the queen.
Who
can tell how happy the king was? In the joy of his heart he gave a great feast
to the whole world, and the whole world came and rejoiced with him for a whole
week.
I
was there too, and ate and drank many good things. I sha'n't forget that feast
as long as I live.
[From
the Russian.]
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