The Violet Fairy Book (8 page)

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.)

Once upon a time the king of the Goldland lost himself in a
forest, and try as he would he could not find the way out. As he
was wandering down one path which had looked at first more
hopeful than the rest he saw a man coming towards him.

'What are you doing here, friend?' asked the stranger; 'darkness
is falling fast, and soon the wild beasts will come from their
lairs to seek for food.'

'I have lost myself,' answered the king, 'and am trying to get
home.'

'Then promise me that you will give me the first thing that comes
out of your house, and I will show you the way,' said the
stranger.

The king did not answer directly, but after awhile he spoke:
'Why should I give away my BEST sporting dog. I can surely find
my way out of the forest as well as this man.'

So the stranger left him, but the king followed path after path
for three whole days, with no better success than before. He was
almost in despair, when the stranger suddenly appeared, blocking
up his way.

'Promise you will give me the first thing that comes out of your
house to meet you?'

But still the king was stiff-necked and would promise nothing.

For some days longer he wandered up and down the forest, trying
first one path, then another, but his courage at last gave way,
and he sank wearily on the ground under a tree, feeling sure his
last hour had come. Then for the third time the stranger stood
before the king, and said:

'Why are you such a fool? What can a dog be to you, that you
should give your life for him like this? Just promise me the
reward I want, and I will guide you out of the forest.'

'Well, my life is worth more than a thousand dogs,' answered the
king, 'the welfare of my kingdom depends on me. I accept your
terms, so take me to my palace.' Scarcely had he uttered the
words than he found himself at the edge of the wood, with the
palace in the dim distance. He made all the haste he could, and
just as he reached the great gates out came the nurse with the
royal baby, who stretched out his arms to his father. The king
shrank back, and ordered the nurse to take the baby away at once.

Then his great boarhound bounded up to him, but his caresses were
only answered by a violent push.

When the king's anger was spent, and he was able to think what
was best to be done, he exchanged his baby, a beautiful boy, for
the daughter of a peasant, and the prince lived roughly as the
son of poor people, while the little girl slept in a golden
cradle, under silken sheets. At the end of a year, the stranger
arrived to claim his property, and took away the little girl,
believing her to be the true child of the king. The king was so
delighted with the success of his plan that he ordered a great
feast to be got ready, and gave splendid presents to the foster
parents of his son, so that he might lack nothing. But he did
not dare to bring back the baby, lest the trick should be found
out. The peasants were quite contented with this arrangement,
which gave them food and money in abundance.

By-and-by the boy grew big and tall, and seemed to lead a happy
life in the house of his foster parents. But a shadow hung over
him which really poisoned most of his pleasure, and that was the
thought of the poor innocent girl who had suffered in his stead,
for his foster father had told him in secret, that he was the
king's son. And the prince determined that when he grew old
enough he would travel all over the world, and never rest till he
had set her free. To become king at the cost of a maiden's life
was too heavy a price to pay. So one day he put on the dress of
a farm servant, threw a sack of peas on his back, and marched
straight into the forest where eighteen years before his father
had lost himself. After he had walked some way he began to cry
loudly: 'Oh, how unlucky I am! Where can I be? Is there no one
to show me the way out of the wood?'

Then appeared a strange man with a long grey beard, with a
leather bag hanging from his girdle. He nodded cheerfully to the
prince, and said: 'I know this place well, and can lead you out
of it, if you will promise me a good reward.'

'What can a beggar such as I promise you?' answered the prince.
'I have nothing to give you save my life; even the coat on my
back belongs to my master, whom I serve for my keep and my
clothes.'

The stranger looked at the sack of peas, and said, 'But you must
possess something; you are carrying this sack, which seems to be
very heavy.'

'It is full of peas,' was the reply. 'My old aunt died last
night, without leaving money enough to buy peas to give the
watchers, as is the custom throughout the country. I have
borrowed these peas from my master, and thought to take a short
cut across the forest; but I have lost myself, as you see.'

'Then you are an orphan?' asked the stranger. 'Why should you
not enter my service? I want a sharp fellow in the house, and
you please me.'

'Why not, indeed, if we can strike a bargain?' said the other.
'I was born a peasant, and strange bread is always bitter, so it
is the same to me whom I serve! What wages will you give me?'

'Every day fresh food, meat twice a week, butter and vegetables,
your summer and winter clothes, and a portion of land for your
own use.'

'I shall be satisfied with that,' said the youth. 'Somebody else
will have to bury my aunt. I will go with you!'

Now this bargain seemed to please the old fellow so much that he
spun round like a top, and sang so loud that the whole wood rang
with his voice. Then he set out with his companion, and
chattered so fast that he never noticed that his new servant kept
dropping peas out of the sack. At night they slept under a fig
tree, and when the sun rose started on their way. About noon
they came to a large stone, and here the old fellow stopped,
looked carefully round, gave a sharp whistle, and stamped three
times on the ground with his left foot. Suddenly there appeared
under the stone a secret door, which led to what looked like the
mouth of a cave. The old fellow seized the youth by the arm, and
said roughly, 'Follow me!'

Thick darkness surrounded them, yet it seemed to the prince as if
their path led into still deeper depths. After a long while he
thought he saw a glimmer of light, but the light was neither that
of the sun nor of the moon. He looked eagerly at it, but found
it was only a kind of pale cloud, which was all the light this
strange underworld could boast. Earth and water, trees and
plants, birds and beasts, each was different from those he had
seen before; but what most struck terror into his heart was the
absolute stillness that reigned everywhere. Not a rustle or a
sound could be heard. Here and there he noticed a bird sitting
on a branch, with head erect and swelling throat, but his ear
caught nothing. The dogs opened their mouths as if to bark, the
toiling oxen seemed about to bellow, but neither bark nor bellow
reached the prince. The water flowed noiselessly over the
pebbles, the wind bowed the tops of the trees, flies and chafers
darted about, without breaking the silence. The old greybeard
uttered no word, and when his companion tried to ask him the
meaning of it all he felt that his voice died in his throat.