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[Illustration: MERCURY GOD OF MERCHANDISE LOOK ON WITH FAVOURABLE
EYES]
[Illustration:
THE FIELD OF CLOVER
By Laurence Housman
DOVER PUBLICATIONS, INC., NEW YORK
ENGRAVED BY CLEMENCE HOUSMAN
BE KINDLY TO THE WEARY DROVER & PIPE THE SHEEP INTO THE CLOVER]
This Dover edition, first published in 1968, is an unabridged and
unaltered republication of the work originally published by Kegan
Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co. in 1898.
_Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 68-30802_
Manufactured in the United States of America
Dover Publications, Inc.
180 Varick Street
New York, N. Y. 10014
Contents
THE BOUND PRINCESS (_in six parts_) PAGE
I THE FIRE-EATERS 3
II THE GALLOPING PLOUGH 13
III THE THIRSTY WELL 23
IV THE PRINCESS MELILOT 33
V THE BURNING ROSE 45
VI THE CAMPHOR WORM 57
THE CROWN'S WARRANTY 69
THE WISHING-POT 81
THE FEEDING OF THE EMIGRANTS 111
THE PASSIONATE PUPPETS 119
TO MY DEAR WOOD-ENGRAVER
THE BOUND PRINCESS
[Illustration]
THE BOUND PRINCESS
I
THE FIRE-EATERS
A long time ago there lived a man who had the biggest head in the
world. Into it he had crammed all the knowledge that might be gathered
from the four corners of the earth. Every one said he was the wisest
man living. "If I could only find a wife," said the sage, "as wise for
a woman as I am for a man, what a race of head-pieces we could bring
into the world!"
He waited many years before any such mate could be found for him:
yet, at last, found she was--one into whose head was bestowed all the
wisdom that might be gathered from the four quarters of heaven.
They were both old, but kings came from all sides to their wedding,
and offered themselves as god-parents to the first-born of the new
race that was to be. But, to the grief of his parents, the child, when
he arrived, proved to be a simpleton; and no second child ever came to
repair the mistake of the first.
That he was a simpleton was evident; his head was small and his
limbs were large, and he could run long before he could talk or do
arithmetic. In the bitterness of their hearts his father and mother
named him Noodle, without the aid of any royal god-parents; and from
that moment, for any care they took in his bringing-up, they washed
their wise hands of him.
Noodle grew and prospered, and enjoyed life in his own foolish way.
When his father and mother died within a short time of each other,
they left him alone without any friend in the world.
For a good while Noodle lived on just what he could find in the house,
in a hand-to-mouth sort of way, till at last only the furniture and
the four bare walls were left to him.
One cold winter's night he sat brooding over the fire, wondering where
he should get food for the morrow, when he heard feet coming up to the
door, and a knock striking low down upon the panel. Outside there was
a faint chirping and crackling sound, and a whispering as of fire
licking against the woodwork without.
He opened the door and peered forth into the night. There, just before
him, stood seven little men huddled up together; three feet high they
were, with bright yellow faces all shrivelled and sharp, and eyes
whose light leaped and sank like candle flame before a gust.
When they saw him, they shut their eyes and opened famished mouths at
him, pointing inwards with flickering finger-tips, and shivering from
head to foot with cold, although it seemed to the youth as if the
warmth of a slow fire came from them. 'Alas!' said Noodle, in reply to
these signs of hunger, 'I have not left even a crust of bread in the
house to give you! But at least come in and make yourselves warm!' He
touched the foremost, making signs for them all to enter. 'Ah,' he
cried, 'what is this, and what are you, that the mere touch of you
burns my finger?'
Without answer they huddled tremblingly across the threshold; but
so soon as they saw the fire burning on the hearth, they yelped all
together like a pack of hounds, and, throwing themselves face forwards
into the hot embers, began ravenously to lap up the flames. They
lapped and lapped, and the more they lapped the more the fire sank
away and died. Then with their flickering finger-tips they stirred
the hot logs and coals, burrowing after the thin tapes and swirls of
vanishing flame, and fetching them out like small blue eels still
wriggling for escape.
After each blue wisp had been gulped down, they sipped and sucked at
their fingers for any least tricklet of flavour that might be left;
and at the last seemed more famished than when they began.
'More, more, O wise Noodle, give us more!' they cried; and Noodle
threw the last of his fuel on the embers.
They breathed round it, fanning it into a great blaze that leaped and
danced up to the rafters; then they fell on, till not a fleck or a
flake of it was left. Noodle, seeing them still famished, broke up
a stool and threw that on the hearth. And again they flared it with
their breath and gobbled off the flame. When the stool was finished he
threw in the table, then the dresser, and after that the oak-chest and
the window-seat.
Still they feasted and were not fed. Noodle fetched an axe, and broke
down the door; then he wrenched up the boards from the floor, and
pulled the beams and rafters out of the ceiling; yet, even so, his
guests were not to be satisfied.
'I have nothing left,' he said, 'but the house itself; but since you
are still hungry you shall be welcome to it!'
He scattered the fire that remained upon the hearth, and threw it out
and about the room; and as he ran forth to escape, up against all
the walls and right through the roof rose a great crackling sheaf of
flame. In the midst of the fire, Noodle could see his seven guests
lying along on their bellies, slopping their hands in the heat, and
lapping up the flames with their tongues. 'Surely,' he thought, 'I
have given them enough to eat at last!'
After a while all the fire was eaten away, and only the black and
smouldering ruins were left. Day came coldly to light, and there sat
Noodle, without a home in the world, watching with considerate eye his
seven guests finishing their inordinate repast.
They all rose to their feet together, and came towards him bowing; as
they approached he felt the heat of their bodies as it had been seven
furnaces.
'Enough, O wise Noodle!' said they, 'we have had enough!' 'That,'
answered Noodle, 'is the least thing left me to wonder at. Go your
ways in peace; but first tell me, who are you?' They replied, 'We are
the Fire-eaters: far from our own land, and strangers, you have done
us this service; what, now, can we do to serve you?' 'Put me in the
way of a living,' said Noodle, 'and you will do me the greatest
service of all.'
Then the one of them who seemed to be chief took from his finger a
ring having for its centre a great firestone, and threw it into the
snow, saying, 'Wait for three hours till the ring shall have had time
to cool, then take it, and wear it; and whatever fortune you deserve
it shall bring you. For this ring is the sweetener of everything that
it touches: bread it turns into rich meats, water into strong wine,
grief into virtue, and labour into strength. Also, if you ever need
our help, you have but to brandish the ring, and the gleam of it will
reach us, and we will be with you wherever you may be.'
With that they bowed their top-knots to the ground and departed,
inverting themselves swiftly till only the shining print of seven
pairs of feet remained, red-hot, over the place where they had been
standing.
Noodle waited for three hours; then he took up the firestone ring, and
putting it on his finger set out into the world.
At the first door he came to, he begged a crust of bread, and touching
it with the ring found it tasted like rich meats, well cooked and
delicately flavoured. Also, the water which he drew in the hollow of
his hand from a brook by the roadside tasted to him like strong wine.
[Illustration]
II
THE GALLOPING PLOUGH
Noodle went on many miles till he came near to a rich man's farm.
Though it was the middle of winter, all the fields showed crops of
corn in progress; here it was in thin blade, and here green, but in
full ear; and here it was ripe and ready for harvest. 'How is this,'
he said to the first man he met, 'that you have corn here in the
middle of winter?' 'Ah!' said the man, 'you have not heard of the
Galloping Plough; you too have to fall under bondage to my master.'
'What is your master?' inquired Noodle, 'and in what bondage does he
bind man?'
'My master, and your master that shall soon be,' answered the old man,
'is the owner of all this land and the farmer of it. He is rich and
sleek and fat like his own furrows, for he has the Galloping Plough as
his possession. Ah, that! 't is a very miracle, a wonder, a thing to
catch at the heartstrings of all beholders; it shines like a moonbeam,
and is better than an Arab mare for swiftness; it warms the very
ground that it enters, so that seeds take root and spring, though it
be the middle of winter. No man sees it but what he loses his heart to
it, and sells his freedom for the possession of it. All here are men
like myself who have become slaves because of that desire. You also,
when you see it, will become slave to it.'
Noodle went on through the summer and the spring corn, till he came
to bare fields. Ahead of him on a hill-top he saw the farmer himself,
sleek and rosy, and of full paunch, lolling like a lord at his ease;
yet with a working eye in the midst of his leisure.
To and fro, up to him and back, shot a silver gleam over the purple
brown of the fields; and Noodle's heart gave a thump at the sight, for
the spell of the Galloping Plough was on him.
Now and then he heard a clear sound that startled him with its note.
It was like the sweet whistling cry of a bird many times multiplied.
Ever when the silver gleam of the Plough had run its farthest from the
farmer, the cry sounded; and at the sound the gleam wavered and stayed
and flew back dartingly to the farmer's side. So Noodle understood how
this was the farmer's signal for the Plough to return; and the Plough
knew it as a horse its master's voice, and came so fast that the wind
whistled against its silver side.
As he watched, Noodle's heart went down into the valley and up the
hillside, following in the track of the Galloping Plough. 'I can never
be happy again,' thought he; 'either I must possess it, or must die.'
He came to the farmer where he sat calling his Plough to him and
letting it go; and the farmer smiled, the wide indulgent smile of a
man who knows that a bargain is about to fall his way.
'What is the price,' asked Noodle, 'of yonder Galloping Plough, that
runs like an Arab mare, and returns to you at your call?'
Said the farmer, 'A year's service; and if the Plough will follow you,
it is yours; if not, then you must be my bondman until you die!'
Noodle looked once the way of the Galloping Plough, and his heart
flapped at his side like a sail which the wind drops and lets go; and
he had no thought or will left in him but to be where the Galloping
Plough was. So he closed hands on the bargain, to be the farmer's
servant either for a year, or for his whole life.
For a year he worked upon the farm, and all the while plotted how he
might win the Galloping Plough to himself. The farmer kept no watch
upon it, nor put it under lock and key, for the Plough recognised no
voice but his own, nor went nor came save at his bidding. In the night
Noodle would go down to the shed or field where it lay, and whistle to
it, trying to put forth notes of the same magical power as those which
came through the farmer's lips.
But no sound that came from his lips ever stroked life into its silver
sides. The year was nearly run out, and Noodle was in despair.
Then he remembered the firestone ring, the Sweetener. 'May be,' said
he, 'since it changes to sweetness whatever I eat and drink, it will
sweeten my voice also, so that the Plough will obey.' So he put the
ring between his lips and whistled; and at the sound his heart turned
a somersault for joy, for he felt that out of his mouth the farmer's
magic had been over-topped and conquered.
The Galloping Plough stirred faintly from the furrow where it lay,
breaking the ground and marring its smooth course. Then it shook its
head slowly, and returned impassively to rest.
In the morning the farmer came and saw the broken earth close under
the Plough's nose. Noodle, hiding among the corn hard by, heard him
say, 'What hast thou heard in the night, O my moonbeam, my miracle,
that thy lily-foot has trodden up the ground? Hast thou forgotten
whose hand feeds thee, whose corn it is thou lovest, whose heart's
care also cherishes thee?'
The farmer went away, and presently came back bearing a bowl of corn;
and Noodle saw the Plough lift its head to its master's palm, and feed
like a horse on the grain.
Then Noodle, gay of heart, waited till it was night, and surely his
time was short, for on the morrow his wages were to be paid, and the
Plough was to be his, or else he was to be the farmer's bondservant
for the rest of his life. He took with him three handfuls of corn, and
went down to where the Plough stood waiting by the furrow. Shaping his
lips to the ring, he whistled gently like a lover, and immediately the
Plough stirred, and lifted up its head as if to look at him.
'O my moonbeam, my miracle,' whispered Noodle, 'wilt thou not come to
the one that feeds thee?' and he held out a handful of corn. But the
Plough gave no regard to him or his grain: slowly it moved away from
him back into the furrow.
Then Noodle laughed softly and dropped his ring, the Sweetener, into
the hand that held the grain; and barely had he offered the corn
before he felt the silver Plough nozzling at his palm, and eating as a
horse eats from the hand of its master.
Then he whistled again, placing the Sweetener back between his lips;
and the Galloping Plough sprang after him, and followed at his heels
like a dog.
So, finding himself its master, he bid it stay for the night; and in
the morning he said to the farmer, 'Give me my wages, and let me go!'
And the farmer laughed, saying, 'Take your wages, and go!'
Then Noodle took off his ring, the Sweetener, and laid it between his
lips and blew through it; and up like a moonbeam, and like an Arab
mare, sprang the Galloping Plough at his call. So he leaped upon its
back, crying, 'Carry me away out of this land, O thou moonbeam, and
miracle of beauty, and never slacken nor stay except I bid thee!'
Vainly the farmer, borne down on a torrent of rage and amazement,
whistled his best, and threw corn and rice from the rear; for the
whistling of Noodle was sweeter to the ear, and his corn sweeter to
the taste, and he nearer to the heart of the Galloping Plough than was
the old master whom it left behind.
[Illustration]
III
THE THIRSTY WELL
So they escaped, slitting the swift hours with ungovernable speed. The
furrow they two made in the world that day, as they went shooting over
the round of it, was called in after times the Equator, and men still
know it by the heat of it, though it has since been covered over by
the dust of ages.
To Noodle, as he went careering round it, the whole world's circuit
ran in a line across his brain, entering his vision and passing
through it as a thread through the needle's eye. Nor would he of his
own will ever have stopped his galloping, but that at the completion
of the first round a mighty thirst took hold of him. 'O my moonbeam,'
he said, choking behind parched lips, and sick at heart, 'check me,
or I faint!' And the Galloping Plough stopped at once, and set him to
earth in a green space under the shadow of overhanging boughs.
He found himself in a richly grown garden, a cool paradise for a
traveller to rest in. Close at hand and inviting to the eye was a well
with a bucket slung ready to be let down. Noodle had little thought of
seeking for the owner of the garden to beg for a drink, since water is
an equal gift to all and the right of any man; but as he drew near he
found the means to it withheld from him, the lid being fast locked. He
went on in search of the owner, till at length he came upon the same
lying half asleep under a thorn-bush with the key in her hand. She was
an old woman, so withered and dry, she looked as if no water could
have ever passed her lips.
When Noodle asked for a drink from the well, she looked at him bright
and sharp, and said: 'Before any man drinks of my water he must make a
bargain with me.' 'What is the bargain?' asked Noodle; and she led him
down to the well.
Then she unlocked the lid and bade him look in; and at the sight
Noodle knew for a second time that his heart had been stolen from him,
and that to be happy he must taste that water or die.
Again he asked, with his eyes intent upon the blue wrimpling of the
water in the well's depth, 'What is the bargain?' And the old woman
answered, 'If you fail to draw water out of the well you must fling
yourself into it.' For answer Noodle swung down the bucket, lowering
it as fast as it would go; then he set both hands to the windlass and
wound.
He heard the water splashing off the sides of the bucket all the way
up, as the shortening rope brought it near; but when he drew it over
the well's brink wonder and grief held him fast, for the bucket was as
empty as vanity. From behind him came a noise of laughter, and there
was the old witch running round and round in a circle; and everywhere
a hedge of thorns came shooting up to enclose him and keep him fast
for her.
'What a trap I am in!' thought Noodle; but once more he lowered the
bucket, and once more it returned to him empty.
The old woman climbed up into the thorn-hedge, and sat on its top,
singing:
'Overground, underground, round-about spell;
The Thirsty has come to the Thirsty Well!'
Again Noodle let down the bucket; and this time as he drew it up he
looked over into the well's heart, and saw all the way up the side a
hundred blue arms reaching out crystal scallops and drawing water
out of the bucket as hard as they could go. He saw thick lips like
sea-anemones thrust out between the crevices of the wall, sucking the
crystals dry as fast as they were filled. 'Truly,' he said to himself,
'this is a thirsty well, but myself am thirstier!'
When he had drawn up the bucket empty for the third time, he stood
considering; and at last he fastened to it the firestone ring, the
Sweetener, and lowered it once more. Then he laughed to himself as he
drew up, and felt the bucket lightening at every turn till it touched
the surface of things.
Empty he found it, with only his firestone hanging by the rim, and
once again he let it down to be refilled. But this time as he wound
up, nothing could keep him from letting a curious eye go over the
brink, to see how the Well-folk fared over their wine; and in what he
beheld there was already comfort for his soul.
The blue arms went like oars out of unison; like carpet-beaters
stricken in the eyes and throat with dust, they beat foolishly against
the sides and bottom of the bucket, shattering and letting fall their
goblets in each unruly attempt. And because Noodle wound leniently at
the rope, willing that they should have their fill, at the last gasp
they were able to send the bucket empty to the top. It was the last
staving off of destiny that lay in their power to make; thereafter
wine conquered them.
Quickly Noodle drew out the ring, and sent the bucket flying on its
last errand. It smacked the water, heeled over, and dipped under a
full draught. Then Noodle spun the windlass with the full pinch of his
energies, calling on the bucket to ascend. He heard the water spilling
from its sides, and knew that the blue arms were there, battling to
arrest it as it flew, and to pay him back once more with emptiness and
mockery. Yet in spite of them the bucket hasted and lightened not, but
was drawn up to the well's head brimming largely, and winking a blue
eye joyously to the light of day.
Over head and ears Noodle plunged for the quenching of his thirst, nor
stayed nor drew back till his head had smitten upon the bottom of the
bucket in his pursuit of the draught. Then it was apparent that only
a third of the water remained, the rest having obeyed the imperative
suction of his throat, and that the thirsty well had at last found a
master under the eye of heaven.
In the depth of the bucket the water flashed like a burning sapphire
and swung circling, curling and coiling, tossing this way and that,
as if struggling to get out. At last with a laugh it threw down the
bucket, and tore back into the well with a crash like thunder.
Up from the well rose a chant of voices:
'Under Heaven, over Hell,
You have broken the spell,
You are lord of the Well.'
Noodle stepped over the brink of his new realm, calling the Well-folk
to reach hands for him and bear him down. All round, the blue arms
started out, catching him and handing him on from one to another
ladderwise, down, and down, and down. As he went, anemone lips came
out of the crannies in the wall, and kissed his feet and hands in
token of allegiance. 'You are lord of the well!' they said, as they
passed him each one to the next.
He came to the bottom of the well; under his feet, wherever he stepped
upon its waters, hands came up and sustained him. The knowledge of
everything that was there had become his. 'Give me,' he said, 'the
crystal cup that is for him who holds kingship over you; so shall I be
lord of you in all places wherever I go.'
A blue arm reached down and drew up from the water a small crystal,
that burned through the darkness with a blue fire, and gave it to
Noodle. 'Now I am your king, however far from you!' said Noodle. And
they answered, chanting:
'Under Heaven, over Hell,
You have broken the spell,
You are lord of the Well.'
'Lift me up!' said he; and the blue arms caught him and lifted him up;
from one to another they passed him in ascending circles, till he came
to the mouth of the well.
There overhead was the old witch, crouching and looking in to know
what had become of him; and her hair hung far down over her eyes into
the well. He caught her to him by it over the brink. 'Old witch,' he
said, 'you must change places with me now!' and he tossed her down to
the bottom of the well.
She went like a falling shuttlecock, shrieking as she fell; and as she
struck the water, the drowned bodies of the men she had sent there
came to the surface, and caught her by the feet and hair, and drew her
down, making an end of her, as she also had made of them.
[Illustration]
IV
THE PRINCESS MELILOT
When Noodle, carrying the crystal with him, set foot once more upon
dry land, straightway he was again upon the back of the Galloping
Plough, with the world flying away under him. But now weariness came
over him, and his head weighed this way and that, so that earth and
sky mixed themselves before his gaze, and he was so drugged with
sleep that he had no wits to bid the Plough slacken from its speed.
Therefore it happened that as they passed a wood, a hanging bough
caught him, and brushed him like a feather from his place, landing him
on a green bosom of grass, where he slept the sleep of the weary, nor
ever lifted his head to see the Plough fast disappearing over hill and
valley and plain, out of sound of his voice or sight of his eye.
When Noodle awoke and found that the Plough was gone, he was bitter
against himself for his folly. 'So poor a use to make of so noble
a steed!' he cried; 'no wonder it has gone from me to seek for a
worthier master! If by good fortune I find it again, needs must I do
great things by its aid to be worthy of its service.' So he set out,
following the furrow of its course, determined, however far he must
seek, to journey on till he found it.
For a whole year he travelled, till at length he came, footsore and
weary, to a deserted palace standing in the midst of an overgrown
garden. The great gates, which lay wide open, were overrun with
creepers, and the paths were green with weeds. That morning he had
thought that he saw far away on the hills the gleam of his silver
Plough, and now hope rose high, for he could see by its track that
the Plough had passed before him into the garden of the palace. 'O my
moonbeam,' he thought, 'is it here I shall find you at last?'
Within the garden there was a sound of cross questions and crooked
answers, of many talking with loud voices, and of one weeping apart
from the rest. When he got quite close, he was struck still with awe,
and joy, and wonder. For first there lay the Galloping Plough in the
middle of a green lawn, and round it a score of serving-men, tugging
at it and trying to make it move on. Near by stood an old woman,
wringing her hands and begging them to leave it alone: 'For,' cried
she, 'if the Plough touches but the feet of the Princess, she will be
uprooted, and will presently wither away and die. Of what use is it to
break one, if the other enchantments cannot be broken?'
In the centre of the lawn grew a bower of roses, and beneath the bower
stood the loveliest princess that ever eye beheld; but she stood there
motionless, and without sign of life. She seemed neither to hear, nor
see, nor breathe; her feet were rooted to the ground; though they
seemed only to rest lightly under her weight upon the grass, no man,
nor a hundred men, could stir her from where she stood. And, as the
spell that held her fast bound to the spot, even so was the spell that
sealed her senses,--no man might lift it from her. When Noodle set
eyes upon her he knew that for the third time his heart had been
stolen from him, and that to be happy he must possess her, or die.
He ran quickly to the old woman, who, unregarded by the serving-men,
stood weeping and wringing her hands. 'Tell me, said Noodle, 'who is
this sleeper who stands enchanted and rooted like a flower to earth?
And who are you, and these others who work and cry at cross purposes?'
The old woman cried from a wide mouth: 'It is my mistress, the
honey-jewel of my heart, whom you see here so grievously enchanted.
All the gifts of the fairies at her christening did not prevent what
was foretold of her at her birth. In her seventeenth year, as you see
her now, so it was told of her that she should be.'
'Does she live?' asked Noodle; 'is she asleep? She is not dead; when
will she wake? Tell me, old woman, her history, and how this fate has
come upon her.'
'She was the daughter of the king of this country by his first wife,'
said the old woman, 'and heir to the throne after his death; but when
her mother died the king married again, and the three daughters he had
by his second wife were jealous of the beauty, and charm, and goodness
which raised their sister so high above them in the estimation of all
men. So they asked their mother to teach them a spell that should rob
Melilot of her charms, and make them useless in the eyes of men. And
their mother, who was wise in such arts, taught to each of them a
spell, so that together they might work their will.
'One day they came running to Melilot, and said, "Come and play with
us a new game that our mother has taught us!" Then they began turning
themselves into flowers. "I will be a hollyhock!" said one. "And I
will be a columbine!" said another; and saying the spell over each
other they became each the flower they had named.
'Then they unloosed the spells, and became themselves again. "Oh, it
is so nice to be a flower!" they cried, laughing and clapping their
hands. But Melilot knew no spell.
'At last, seeing how her sisters turned into flowers, and came back
safe again, "I will be a rose!" she cried; "turn me into a rose and
out again!"
'Then her three sisters joined their tongues together, and finished the
spell over her. And so soon as she had become a rose-tree, the three
sisters turned into three moles, and went down under the earth and
gnawed at the roots.
'Then they came up, and took their own forms again, and sang,--
'"Sister, sister, here you are now,
Till the ploughman come with the Galloping Plough!"
'Then they turned into bees, and sucked out the honey from the roses,
and coming to themselves again they sang,--
'"Sister, here you must doze and doze,
Till they bring you a flower of the Burning Rose!"
'Then they shook the dewdrops out of her eyes, crying,--
"Sister, your brain lies under our spell,
Till water be brought from the Thirsty Well!"
'Then they took the top blossom of all, and broke it to pieces, and
threw the petals away as they cried,--
"Sister, your life goes down for a term,
Till they bring you breath from the Camphor-Worm!"
'And when they had done all this, they turned her back into her true
shape, and left her standing even as you see her now, without warmth,
or sight, or memory, or motion, dead saving for her beauty, that never
changes or dies. And here she must stand till the spells which have
been fastened upon her have been unloosed. No long time after,
the wickedness of the three sisters and of their cruel mother was
discovered to the king, and they were all put to death for the crime.
Yet the ill they had done remained; and the king's grief became so
great to see his loved daughter standing dead before him that he
removed with his court to another place, and left this palace to the
care of only a few serving-men, and myself to keep watch and guard
over the Princess.
'So now four-fold is the spell that holds her, and to break the
lightest of them the water of the Thirsty Well is needed; with two of
its drops laid upon her eyes memory will come back to her, and her
mind will remember of the things of the past. And for the breaking
of the second spell is needed a blossom of the Burning Rose, and the
plucking of that no man's hand can achieve; but when the Rose is laid
upon her breast, her heart will belong to the world once more, and
will beat again under her bosom. And for the breaking of the third
spell one must bring the breath of the Camphor-Worm that has lain for
a whole year inside its body, and breathe it between her lips; then
she will breathe again, and all her five senses will return to her.
And for the last spell only the Galloping Plough can uproot her back
to life, and free her feet for the ways of earth. Now, here we have
the Galloping Plough with no man who can guide it, and what aid can it
be? If these fools should be able to make it so much as but touch the
feet of my dear mistress, she will be mown down like grass, and die
presently for lack of earth; for only the three other charms I have
told you of can put whole life back into her.'
'As for the mastery of the Plough,' said Noodle, 'I will fetch that
from them in a breath. See, in a moment, how marvellous will be the
uplifting of their eyes!' He put to his lips the firestone ring--the
Sweetener--and blew but one note through it. Then in a moment the
crowd divided hither and thither, with cries of wonder and alarm, for
the Plough turned and bounded back to its master quickly, as an Arab
mare at the call of her owner.
The old woman, weeping for gladness, cried: 'Thou art master of the
Plough! Art thou master of all the other things as well?'
He said: 'Of one thing only. Tell me of the Burning Rose and the
Camphor-Worm; what and where are they? For I am the master of the ends
of the earth by reason of the speed with which this carries me; and I
am lord of the Thirsty Well, and have the Fire-eaters for my friends.'
The old woman clapped her hands, and blessed him for his youth, and
his wisdom, and his courage. 'First,' she said, 'restore to the
Princess her memory by means of the water of the Thirsty Well; then I
will show you the way to the Burning Rose, for the easier thing must
be done first.'
Then Noodle drew out the crystal and breathed in it, calling on the
Well-folk for the two drops of water to lay on Princess Melilot's
eyes. Immediately in the bottom of the cup appeared two blue drops
of water, that came climbing up the sides of the glass and stood
trembling together on the brim. And Noodle, touching them with the
firestone ring to make the memory of things sweet to her, bent back
the Princess's face, and let them fall under her closed lids.
'Look!' cried the faithful nurse, 'light trembles within those eyes of
hers! In there she begins to remember things; but as yet she sees and
hears nothing. Now it is for you to be swift and fetch her the blossom
of the Burning Rose. Be wise, and you shall not fail!'
[Illustration]
V
THE BURNING ROSE
She told him how he was to go, across the desert southward, till he
found a giant, longer in length than a day's journey, lying asleep
upon the sand. Over his head, it was told, hung a cloud, covering him
from the heat and resting itself against his brows; within the cloud
was a dream, and within the dream grew the garden of the Burning
Rose. Than this she knew no more, nor by what means Noodle might gain
entrance and become possessor of the Rose.
Noodle waited for no more; he mounted upon the Galloping Plough, and
pressed away over the desert to the south. For three days he travelled
through parched places, refreshing himself by the way with the water
of the Thirsty Well, calling on the Well-folk for the replenishment of
his crystal, and turning the draught to wine by the sweetness of his
magic ring.
At length he saw a cloud rising to him from a distance; like a great
opal it hung motionless between earth and heaven. Coming nearer he saw
the giant himself stretched out for a day's journey across the sand.
His head lay under the colours of the dawn, and his feet were covered
with the dusk of evening, and over his middle shone the noonday sun.
Under the giant's shadow Noodle stopped, and gazed up into the cloud;
through the outer covering of its mists he saw what seemed to be balls
of fire, and knew that within lay the dream and the garden of the
Burning Rose.
The giant laughed and muttered in his sleep, for the dream was sweet
to him. 'O Rose,' he said, 'O sweet Rose, what end is there of
thy sweetness? How innumerable is the dance of the Roses of my
Rose-garden!'
Noodle caught hold of the ropes of the giant's hair, and climbed till
he sat within the hollow of his right ear. Then he put to his lips the
ring, the Sweetener, and sang till the giant heard him in his sleep;
and the sweet singing mixed itself with the sweetness of the Rose in
the giant's brain, and he muttered to himself, saying: 'O bee, O sweet
bee, O bee in my brain, what honey wilt thou fetch for me out of the
Roses of my Rose-garden?'
So, more and more, Noodle sweetened himself to the giant, till the
giant passed him into his brain, and into the heart of the dream, even
into the garden of the Burning Rose.
Far down below the folds of the cloud, Noodle remembered that the
Galloping Plough lay waiting a call from him. 'When I have stolen the
Rose,' thought he, 'I may need swift heels for my flight.' And he put
the Sweetener to his lips and whistled the Plough up to him.
It came, cleaving the encirclement of clouds like a silver gleam of
moonlight, and for a moment, where they parted, Noodle saw a rift of
blue sky, and the light of the outer world clear through their midst.
The giant turned uneasily in his sleep, and the garden of the Burning
Rose rocked to its foundations as the edge of things real pierced into
it.
'While I stay here there is danger,' thought Noodle. 'Surely I must
make haste to possess myself of the Rose and to escape!'
All round him was a garden set thick with rose-trees in myriads of
blossom, rose behind rose as far as the eye could reach, and the
fragrance of them lay like a heavy curtain of sleep upon the senses.
Noodle, beginning to feel drowsy, stretched out his hand in haste to
the nearest flower, lest in a little while he should be no more than a
part of the giant's dream. 'O beloved Heart of Melilot!' he cried, and
crushed his fingers upon the stem.
The whole bough crackled and sprang away at his touch; the Rose turned
upon him, screaming and spouting fire; a noise like thunder filled all
the air. Every rose in the garden turned and spat flame at where he
stood. His face and his hands became blistered with the heat.
Leaping upon the back of his Plough, he cried, 'Carry me to the
borders of the garden where there are open spaces! The price of the
Princess is upon my head!'
The Plough bounded this way and that, searching for some outlet by
which to escape. It flew in spirals and circles, it leaped like a
flea, it burrowed like a mole, it ploughed up the rose-trees by the
roots. But so soon as it had passed they stood up unharmed again, and
to whatever point of refuge the Plough fled, that way they all turned
their heads and darted out vomitings of fire.
In vain did Noodle summon the Well-folk to his aid; his crystal shot
forth fountains of water that turned into steam as they rose, and fell
back again, scalding him.
Then with two deaths threatening to devour him, he brandished the
ring, calling upon the Fire-eaters for their aid.
They laughed as they came. 'Here is food for you!' he cried. 'Multiply
your appetites about me, or I shall be consumed in these flames!'
'Brandish again!' cried they--the same seven whom he had fed. 'We are
not enough; this fire is not quenchable.'
Noodle brandished till the whole garden swarmed with their kind. One
fastened himself upon every rose, a gulf opposing itself to a torrent.
All sight of the conflagration disappeared; but within there went a
roaring sound, and the bodies of the Fire-eaters crackled, growing
large and luminous the while.
'Do your will quickly and begone!' cried the Fire-eaters. 'Even now we
swell to bursting with the pumping in of these fires!'
Noodle seized on a rose to which one hung, sucking out its heats. He
tugged, but the strong fibres held. Then he locked himself to the back
of the Plough, crying to it and caressing its speed with all names
under heaven, and beseeching it in the name of Melilot to break free.
And the Plough giving but one plunge, the Rose came away into Noodle's
hand, panting and a prisoner. All blushing it grew and radiant, with a
soft inner glow, and an odour of incomparable sweetness. He seemed to
see the heart of Melilot beating before him.
But now there came a blast of fire behind him, for the Fire-eaters had
disappeared, and all was whirling and shaken before his eyes; and the
Plough sped desperately over earthquake and space. For the plucking
of the Rose had awakened the giant from his sleep; and the dream
shrivelled and spun away in a whirl of flame-coloured vapours. Leaping
into clear day out of the unravelment of its mists, Noodle found
himself and his Plough launching over an edge of precipice for a
downward dive into space. The giant's hair, standing upright from his
head in the wrath and horror of his awakening, made a forest ending in
his forehead that bowered them to right and to left. Quitting it they
slid ungovernably over the bulge of his brow, and went at full spurt
for the abyss.
Dexterously the Plough steered its descent, catching on the bridge and
furrowing the ridge of the nose; nine leagues were the duration of a
second.
The giant, thinking some venomous parasite was injuring his flesh,
aimed, and a moment too late had thumped his fist upon the place. But
already the Plough skirting the amazed opening of his mouth was lost
in the trammels of his beard. Thence, as it escaped the rummaging
of his fingers, it flew scouring his breast, and inflicted a flying
scratch over the regions of his abdomen. Then, still believing it to
be the triumphal procession of a flea, he pursued it to his thigh, and
mistaking the shadow for the substance allowed it yet again to escape.
At his knee-cap there was but a hair's-breadth between Noodle and the
weight of his thumb; but thereafter the Plough out-distanced his every
effort, and, with Noodle preserved whole and alive, sped fast and far,
bearing the Burning Rose to the heart of the beloved Melilot.
The crone was aware of his coming before she heard him, or saw the
gleam of his Plough running beam-like over the land. From her seat by
the Princess's bower she clapped her hands, and springing to his neck
ere he alighted: 'A long way off, and a long time off,' she cried, 'I
knew what fortune was with you; for when you plucked off the Rose,
and bore it out of the heart of the dream, the scent of it filled the
world; and I felt the sweetness of youth once more in my blood.'
Then she led him to the Princess, and bade him lay the Rose in her
breast, that her heart might be won back into the world. Looking at
her face again, Noodle saw how memory had made it more beautiful than
ever, and how between her lips had grown the tender parting of a
smile. Then he laid the Rose where the movement of the heart should
be; and presently under the white breast rose the music of its
beating.
'Ah!' cried the old nurse, weeping for happiness, 'now her heart that
loved me is come back, and I can listen all day to the sound of it!
You have brought memory to her, you have brought love; now bring
breath, and the awakening of her five senses. Surely the light of her
eyes will be your reward!'
[Illustration]
VI
THE CAMPHOR-WORM
'Tell me quickly of the Camphor-Worm,' cried the youth as he feasted
his eyes on the Princess's loveliness, made more unendurable by the
awakening within of love. 'Where and what is it?' 'It is not so far as
was the way to the Burning Rose,' answered the crone; 'an hour on the
back of the Plough shall bring it near to you; but the danger
and difficulty of this quest is more, not less. For to reach the
Camphor-Worm you need to be a diver in deep waters, whose weight
crushes a man; and to touch its lips you must master the loathing of
your nature; and to carry away its breath you must have strength of
will and endurance beyond what is mortal.' 'You trouble me with things
I need not know,' cried Noodle. 'Tell me,' he said, 'how I may reach
the Camphor-Worm; and of it and its ways.'
'By this path, and by that,' said the old woman, pointing him, 'go on
till you come to the thick waters of the Bitter Lake; they are blacker
than night, and their weight is heavier than lead, and in the depths
dwells the Camphor-Worm. Once a year, when the air is sweetest with
the scents of summer, she rises to breathe, lifting her black snout
through the surface of the waters. Then she draws fresh air into her
lungs, flavoured with leaves and flowers, and after she has breathed
it in she lets go the last bubble of the breath she drew from the
summer of the year before; and it is this bubble of breath alone that
will give back life to the five senses of Princess Melilot. But the
Worm's time for rising is far; and how you shall bear the weight in
the depths of those waters, or make the Worm give up the bubble before
her time, or at last bear back the bubble to lay it on the lips of the
Princess so that she may wake,--these are things I know not the way
of, for to my eyes they seem dark with difficulty and peril.'
Then Noodle, opening the petals of the Burning Rose as it lay upon the
heart of Melilot, drew out honey from its centre, filling his hand
with the golden crumblings of fragrance; and he leapt upon the
Galloping Plough, urging it in the way the Princess's nurse had
pointed out to him. As they went he caressed it with all the names
under heaven, stroking it with his hand and praising it for the
delicacy of its steering: saying, 'O my moonbeam, if thou wouldst save
the life of thy master, or restore the five senses of the Princess
Melilot, thou must surpass thyself to-day. Listen, thou heaven-sent
limb, thou miracle of quicksilver, and have a long mind to my words;
for in a short while I shall have no speech left in me till the
thing be done, and the deliverance, from head to feet, of my Beloved
accomplished.'
Even while he spoke they came to the edge of the Bitter Lake--a small
pool, but its waters were blacker than night, and heavier than lead to
the eye. Then Noodle leapt down from the Plough, and caressed it for
the last time, saying: 'Set thy face for the garden where the Princess
Melilot is; and when I am come back to thee speechless out of the Lake
and am striding thee once more, then wait not for a word but carry me
to her with more speed than thou hast ever mustered to my aid till
now; go faster than wind or lightning or than the eye of man can see!
So, by good fortune, I may live till I reach her lips; but if thou
tarry at all I am a dead man. And when thou art come to Melilot set
thy share beneath the roots of her feet, and take her up to me out of
the ground. Do this tenderly, but abate not speed till it be done!'
Then the youth put into his mouth the honey of the Burning Rose, and
into his lips the Sweetener, and stripped himself as a bather to the
pool. And the Plough, remembering its master's word, turned and set
its face to where lay the garden with Melilot waiting to be relieved
of her enchantment. Whereat Noodle, bowing his head, and blessing it
with lips of farewell, turned shortly and slid down into the blackness
of the lake.
The weight of that water was like a vice upon his limbs, and around
his throat, as he swam out into the centre of the pool. As he went he
breathed upon the water, and the scent of the honey of the Burning
Rose passing through the Sweetener made an incomparable fragrance,
gentle, and subtle, and wooing to the senses.
When he came to the middle of the lake he stayed breathing full
breaths, till the air deepened with fragrance around him. Presently
underneath him he felt the movement of a great thing coming up from
the bottom of the pool. It touched his feet and came grazing along his
side; and all at once shuddering and horror took hold upon him, for
his whole nature was filled with loathing of its touch.
Out of the pool's surface before him rose a great black snout, that
opened, showing a round hole. Then he thought of Melilot and her
beauty laid fast under a charm, and drawing a full breath he laid his
lips containing the ring, the Sweetener, to the lips of the Worm.
The Worm began to breathe. As the Worm drank the air out of him, he
drew in more through his nostrils, and more and more, till the great
gills were filled and satisfied.
Then the Worm let go the last bubble of air which remained from the
year before, and had lain ever since in its body, by which alone life
could be given back to the five senses of Melilot. Then drawing in
its head it lowered itself once more to the bottom of the pool; and
Noodle, feeling in his mouth the precious globule of air, fastened his
lips upon it and shot out for shore.
Against the weight of those leaden waters a longing to gasp possessed
him; but he knew that with the least breath the bubble would be lost,
and all his labour undone. Not too soon his feet caught hold of the
bank, and drew him free to land. He cast himself speechless across the
back of the Galloping Plough and clung.
The Plough gathered itself together and sprang away through space.
Remembering its master's word it showed itself a miracle of speed;
like lightning became its flight.
The eye of Noodle grew blind to the passing of things; he could take
no count of the collapsing leagues. More and more grew the amazingness
of the Plough's leaps, things only to be measured by miles, and
counted as joltings on the way; while fast to the back of it clung
Noodle, and endured, praying that shortness of breath might not
overmaster him, or the check of his lungs give way and burst him to
the emptiness of a drum. His senses rocked and swayed; he felt the
gates of his resolve slackening and forcing themselves apart; and
still the Galloping Plough plunged him blindly along through space.
But now the shrill crying of the crone struck in upon his ears, and
he stretched open his arms for the accomplishment of the deliverance.
Even in that nick of time was the end of the thing brought about; for
the Plough, guiding itself as a thread to the needle's eye, gave the
uprooting stroke to the white feet of Melilot; and Noodle, swooning
for the last gasp, saw all at once her beauty swaying level to his
gaze and her body bending down upon his.
Then he fastened his lips upon hers, and loosed the bubble from his
mouth; and panting and sobbing themselves back to life they hung in
each other's arms. She warmed and ripened in his embrace, opening upon
him the light of her eyes; and the greatness and beauty of the reward
abashed him and bore him down to earth.
He heard the old crone clucking and crowing, like a hen over its egg,
of the happiness that had come to her old years; till recognising the
youth's state she covered him over with a cloak amid exclamations of
astonishment.
The Princess saw nothing but her lover's face and the happy feasting
of his eyes. She bent her head nearer and nearer to his, and the story
of what he had done became a dream that she remembered, and that
waking made true. 'O you Noodle,' she said, laughing, 'you wise, wise
Noodle!' And then everything was finished, for she had kissed him!