longer, when one of the fairies appeared in her ivory car, accompanied
by a beautiful woman past her early youth. At this moment the bird
suddenly awakened, and, flying on to Saphir’s shoulder (which it never
afterwards left), began fondling him as well as a bird can do. The
fairy told Serpentine that she was quite satisfied with her conduct,
and made herself very agreeable to Saphir, whom she presented to the
lady she had brought with her, explaining that the lady was no other
than his Aunt Aglantine, widow of Diamantino.
[Illustration: ‘Standing in the Doorway a Charming Maiden at Whose
Sight His Mind Seemed to Give Way’]
Then they all fell into each other’s arms, till the fairy mounted her
chariot, placed Aglantine by her side, and Saphir and Serpentine on
the front seat. She also sent a message to the Prince’s attendants
that they might travel slowly back to the Court of King Peridor, and
that the beautiful bird had really been found. This matter being
comfortably arranged, she started off her chariot. But in spite of the
swiftness with which they flew through the air, the time passed even
quicker for Saphir and Serpentine, who had so much to think about.
They were still quite confused with the pleasure of seeing each other,
when the chariot arrived at King Peridor’s palace. He had had himself
carried to a room on the roof, where his nurses thought that he would
die at any moment. Directly the chariot drew within sight of the
castle the beautiful bird took flight, and, making straight for the
dying King, at once cured him of his sickness. Then she resumed her
natural shape, and he found that the bird was no other than the Queen
Constance, whom he had long believed to be dead. Peridor was rejoiced
to embrace his wife and his son once more, and with the help of the
fairies began to make preparations for the marriage of Saphir and
Serpentine, who turned out to be the daughter of Aglantine and
Diamantino, and as much a princess as he was a prince. The people of
the kingdom were delighted, and everybody lived happy and contented to
the end of their lives.
_THE SEVEN-HEADED SERPENT_[9]
Once upon a time there was a king who determined to take a long
voyage. He assembled his fleet and all the seamen, and set out. They
went straight on night and day, until they came to an island which was
covered with large trees, and under every tree lay a lion. As soon as
the King had landed his men, the lions all rose up together and tried
to devour them. After a long battle they managed to overcome the wild
beasts, but the greater number of the men were killed. Those who
remained alive now went on through the forest and found on the other
side of it a beautiful garden, in which all the plants of the world
flourished together. There were also in the garden three springs: the
first flowed with silver, the second with gold, and the third with
pearls. The men unbuckled their knapsacks and filled them with those
precious things. In the middle of the garden they found a large lake,
and when they reached the edge of it the Lake began to speak, and said
to them, ‘What men are you, and what brings you here? Are you come to
visit our king?’ But they were too much frightened to answer.
Then the Lake said, ‘You do well to be afraid, for it is at your peril
that you are come hither. Our king, who has seven heads, is now
asleep, but in a few minutes he will wake up and come to me to take
his bath! Woe to anyone who meets him in the garden, for it is
impossible to escape from him. This is what you must do if you wish to
save your lives. Take off your clothes and spread them on the path
which leads from here to the castle. The King will then glide over
something soft, which he likes very much, and he will be so pleased
with that that he will not devour you. He will give you some
punishment, but then he will let you go.’
[Footnote 9: ‘Die Siebenköpfige Schlange,’ from Schmidt’s _Griechische
Mährchen_.]
The men did as the Lake advised them, and waited for a time. At noon
the earth began to quake, and opened in many places, and out of the
openings appeared lions, tigers, and other wild beasts, which
surrounded the castle, and thousands and thousands of beasts came out
of the castle following their king, the Seven-headed Serpent. The
Serpent glided over the clothes which were spread for him, came to the
Lake, and asked it who had strewed those soft things on the path? The
Lake answered that it had been done by people who had come to do him
homage. The King commanded that the men should be brought before him.
They came humbly on their knees, and in a few words told him their
story. Then he spoke to them with a mighty and terrible voice, and
said, ‘Because you have dared to come here, I lay upon you the
punishment. Every year you must bring me from among your people twelve
youths and twelve maidens, that I may devour them. If you do not do
this, I will destroy your whole nation.’
Then he desired one of his beasts to show the men the way out of the
garden, and dismissed them. They then left the island and went back to
their own country, where they related what had happened to them. Soon
the time came round when the king of the beasts would expect the
youths and maidens to be brought to him. The King therefore issued a
proclamation inviting twelve youths and twelve maidens to offer
themselves up to save their country; and immediately many young
people, far more than enough, hastened to do so. A new ship was built,
and set with black sails, and in it the youths and maidens who were
appointed for the king of the beasts embarked and set out for his
country. When they arrived there they went at once to the Lake, and
this time the lions did not stir, nor did the springs flow, and
neither did the Lake speak. So they waited then, and it was not long
before the earth quaked even more terribly than the first time. The
Seven-headed Serpent came without his train of beasts, saw his prey
waiting for him, and devoured it at one mouthful. Then the ship’s crew
returned home, and the same thing happened yearly until many years had
passed.
Now the King of this unhappy country was growing old, and so was the
Queen, and they had no children. One day the Queen was sitting at the
window weeping bitterly because she was childless, and knew that the
crown would therefore pass to strangers after the King’s death.
Suddenly a little old woman appeared before her, holding an apple in
her hand, and said, ‘Why do you weep, my Queen, and what makes you so
unhappy?’
‘Alas, good mother,’ answered the Queen, ‘I am unhappy because I have
no children.’
‘Is that what vexes you?’ said the old woman. ‘Listen to me. I am a
nun from the _Spinning Convent_[10] and my mother when she died left
me this apple. Whoever eats this apple shall have a child.’
The Queen gave money to the old woman, and bought the apple from her.
Then she peeled it, ate it, and threw the rind out of the window, and
it so happened that a mare that was running loose in the court below
ate up the rind. After a time the Queen had a little boy, and the mare
also had a male foal. The boy and the foal grew up together and loved
each other like brothers. In course of time the King died, and so did
the Queen, and their son, who was now nineteen years old, was left
alone. One day, when he and his horse were talking together, the Horse
said to him, ‘Listen to me, for I love you and wish for your good and
that of the country. If you go on every year sending twelve youths and
twelve maidens to the King of the Beasts, your country will very soon
be ruined. Mount upon my back: I will take you to a woman who can
direct you how to kill the Seven-headed Serpent.’
Then the youth mounted his horse, who carried him far away to a
mountain which was hollow, for in its side was a great underground
cavern. In the cavern sat an old woman spinning. This was the cloister
of the nuns, and the old woman was the Abbess. They all spent their
time in spinning, and that is why the convent has this name. All round
the walls of the cavern there were beds cut out of the solid rock,
upon which the nuns slept, and in the middle a light was burning. It
was the duty of the nuns to watch the light in turns, that it might
never go out, and if anyone of them let it go out the others put her
to death.
As soon as the King’s son saw the old Abbess spinning he threw himself
at her feet and entreated her to tell him how he could kill the
Seven-headed Serpent.
[Footnote 10: Convent Gnothi.]
She made the youth rise, embraced him, and said, ‘Know, my son, that
it is I who sent the nun to your mother and caused you to be born, and
with you the horse, with whose help you will be able to free the world
from the monster. I will tell you what you have to do. Load your horse
with cotton, and go by a secret passage which I will show you, which
is hidden from the wild beasts, to the Serpent’s palace. You will find
the King asleep upon his bed, which is all hung round with bells, and
over his bed you will see a sword hanging. With this sword only it is
possible to kill the Serpent, because even if its blade breaks a new
one will grow again for every head the monster has. Thus you will be
able to cut off all his seven heads. And this you must also do in
order to deceive the King: you must slip into his bed-chamber very
softly, and stop up all the bells which are round his bed with cotton.
Then take down the sword gently, and quickly give the monster a blow
on his tail with it. This will make him waken up, and if he catches
sight of you he will seize you. But you must quickly cut off his first
head, and then wait till the next one comes up. Then strike it off
also, and so go on till you have cut off all his seven heads.’
[Illustration: The Seven-headed Serpent]
The old Abbess then gave the Prince her blessing, and he set out upon
his enterprise, arrived at the Serpent’s castle by following the
secret passage which she had shown him, and by carefully attending to
all her directions he happily succeeded in killing the monster. As
soon as the wild beasts heard of their king’s death, they all hastened
to the castle, but the youth had long since mounted his horse and was
already far out of their reach. They pursued him as fast as they
could, but they found it impossible to overtake him, and he reached
home in safety. Thus he freed his country from this terrible
oppression.
_THE GRATEFUL BEASTS_[11]
There was once upon a time a man and woman who had three fine-looking
sons, but they were so poor that they had hardly enough food for
themselves, let alone their children. So the sons determined to set
out into the world and to try their luck. Before starting their mother
gave them each a loaf of bread and her blessing, and having taken a
tender farewell of her and their father the three set forth on their
travels.
The youngest of the three brothers, whose name was Ferko, was a
beautiful youth, with a splendid figure, blue eyes, fair hair, and a
complexion like milk and roses. His two brothers were as jealous of
him as they could be, for they thought that with his good looks he
would be sure to be more fortunate than they would ever be.
One day all the three were sitting resting under a tree, for the sun
was hot and they were tired of walking. Ferko fell fast asleep, but
the other two remained awake, and the eldest said to the second
brother, ‘What do you say to doing our brother Ferko some harm? He is
so beautiful that everyone takes a fancy to him, which is more than
they do to us. If we could only get him out of the way we might
succeed better.’
‘I quite agree with you,’ answered the second brother, ‘and my advice
is to eat up his loaf of bread, and then to refuse to give him a bit
of ours until he has promised to let us put out his eyes or break his
legs.’
His eldest brother was delighted with this proposal, and the two
wicked wretches seized Ferko’s loaf and ate it all up, while the poor
boy was still asleep.
When he did awake he felt very hungry and turned to eat his bread, but
his brothers cried out, ‘You ate your loaf in your sleep, you glutton,
and you may starve as long as you like, but you won’t get a scrap of
ours.’
[Footnote 11: From the Hungarian. Kletke.]
Ferko was at a loss to understand how he could have eaten in his
sleep, but he said nothing, and fasted all that day and the next
night. But on the following morning he was so hungry that he burst
into tears, and implored his brothers to give him a little bit of
their bread. Then the cruel creatures laughed, and repeated what they
had said the day before; but when Ferko continued to beg and beseech
them, the eldest said at last, ‘If you will let us put out one of your
eyes and break one of your legs, then we will give you a bit of our
bread.’
At these words poor Ferko wept more bitterly than before, and bore the
torments of hunger till the sun was high in the heavens; then he could
stand it no longer, and he consented to allow his left eye to be put
out and his left leg to be broken. When this was done he stretched out
his hand eagerly for the piece of bread, but his brothers gave him
such a tiny scrap that the starving youth finished it in a moment and
besought them for a second bit.
But the more Ferko wept and told his brothers that he was dying of
hunger, the more they laughed and scolded him for his greed. So he
endured the pangs of starvation all that day, but when night came his
endurance gave way, and he let his right eye be put out and his right
leg broken for a second piece of bread.
After his brothers had thus successfully maimed and disfigured him for
life, they left him groaning on the ground and continued their journey
without him.
Poor Ferko ate up the scrap of bread they had left him and wept
bitterly, but no one heard him or came to his help. Night came on, and
the poor blind youth had no eyes to close, and could only crawl along
the ground, not knowing in the least where he was going. But when the
sun was once more high in the heavens, Ferko felt the blazing heat
scorch him, and sought for some cool shady place to rest his aching
limbs. He climbed to the top of a hill and lay down in the grass, and
as he thought under the shadow of a big tree. But it was no tree he
leant against, but a gallows on which two ravens were seated. The one
was saying to the other as the weary youth lay down, ‘Is there
anything the least wonderful or remarkable about this neighbourhood?’
‘I should just think there was,’ replied the other; ‘many things that
don’t exist anywhere else in the world. There is a lake down there
below us, and anyone who bathes in it, though he were at death’s door,
becomes sound and well on the spot, and those who wash their eyes with
the dew on this hill become as sharp-sighted as the eagle, even if
they have been blind from their youth.’
‘Well,’ answered the first raven, ‘my eyes are in no want of this
healing bath, for, Heaven be praised, they are as good as ever they
were; but my wing has been very feeble and weak ever since it was shot
by an arrow many years ago, so let us fly at once to the lake that I
may be restored to health and strength again.’ And so they flew away.
Their words rejoiced Ferko’s heart, and he waited impatiently till
evening should come and he could rub the precious dew on his sightless
eyes.
At last it began to grow dusk, and the sun sank behind the mountains;
gradually it became cooler on the hill, and the grass grew wet with
dew. Then Ferko buried his face in the ground till his eyes were damp
with dew-drops, and in a moment he saw clearer than he had ever done
in his life before. The moon was shining brightly, and lighted him to
the lake where he could bathe his poor broken legs.
Then Ferko crawled to the edge of the lake and dipped his limbs in the
water. No sooner had he done so than his legs felt as sound and strong
as they had been before, and Ferko thanked the kind fate that had led
him to the hill where he had overheard the ravens’ conversation. He
filled a bottle with the healing water, and then continued his journey
in the best of spirits.
He had not gone far before he met a wolf, who was limping
disconsolately along on three legs, and who on perceiving Ferko began
to howl dismally.
‘My good friend,’ said the youth, ‘be of good cheer, for I can soon
heal your leg,’ and with these words he poured some of the precious
water over the wolf’s paw, and in a minute the animal was springing
about sound and well on all fours. The grateful creature thanked his
benefactor warmly, and promised Ferko to do him a good turn if he
should ever need it.
Ferko continued his way till he came to a ploughed field. Here he
noticed a little mouse creeping wearily along on its hind paws, for
its front paws had both been broken in a trap.
Ferko felt so sorry for the little beast that he spoke to it in the
most friendly manner, and washed its small paws with the healing
water. In a moment the mouse was sound and whole, and after thanking
the kind physician it scampered away over the ploughed furrows.
Ferko again proceeded on his journey, but he hadn’t gone far before a
queen bee flew against him, trailing one wing behind her, which had
been cruelly torn in two by a big bird. Ferko was no less willing to
help her than he had been to help the wolf and the mouse, so he poured
some healing drops over the wounded wing. On the spot the queen bee
was cured, and turning to Ferko she said, ‘I am most grateful for your
kindness, and shall reward you some day.’ And with these words she
flew away humming gaily.
[Illustration: Ferko Healed by Magic Waters]
Then Ferko wandered on for many a long day, and at length reached a
strange kingdom. Here, he thought to himself, he might as well go
straight to the palace and offer his services to the King of the
country, for he had heard that the King’s daughter was as beautiful as
the day.
So he went to the royal palace, and as he entered the door the first
people he saw were his two brothers who had so shamefully ill-treated
him. They had managed to obtain places in the King’s service, and when
they recognised Ferko with his eyes and legs sound and well they were
frightened to death, for they feared he would tell the King of their
conduct, and that they would be hung.
[Illustration: Ferko Before the King]
No sooner had Ferko entered the palace than all eyes were turned on
the handsome youth, and the King’s daughter herself was lost in
admiration, for she had never seen anyone so handsome in her life
before. His brothers noticed this, and envy and jealousy were added to
their fear, so much so that they determined once more to destroy him.
They went to the King and told him that Ferko was a wicked magician,
who had come to the palace with the intention of carrying off the
Princess.
Then the King had Ferko brought before him, and said, ‘You are accused
of being a magician who wishes to rob me of my daughter, and I condemn
you to death; but if you can fulfil three tasks which I shall set you
to do your life shall be spared, on condition you leave the country;
but if you cannot perform what I demand you shall be hung on the
nearest tree.’
And turning to the two wicked brothers he said, ‘Suggest something for
him to do; no matter how difficult, he must succeed in it or die.’
They did not think long, but replied, ‘Let him build your Majesty in
one day a more beautiful palace than this, and if he fails in the
attempt let him be hung.’
The King was pleased with this proposal, and commanded Ferko to set to
work on the following day. The two brothers were delighted, for they
thought they had now got rid of Ferko for ever. The poor youth himself
was heart-broken, and cursed the hour he had crossed the boundary of
the King’s domain. As he was wandering disconsolately about the
meadows round the palace, wondering how he could escape being put to
death, a little bee flew past, and settling on his shoulder whispered
in his ear, ‘What is troubling you, my kind benefactor? Can I be of
any help to you? I am the bee whose wing you healed, and would like to
show my gratitude in some way.’
Ferko recognised the queen bee, and said, ‘Alas! how could you help
me? for I have been set to do a task which no one in the whole world
could do, let him be ever such a genius! To-morrow I must build a
palace more beautiful than the King’s, and it must be finished before
evening.’
‘Is that all?’ answered the bee, ‘then you may comfort yourself; for
before the sun goes down to-morrow night a palace shall be built
unlike any that King has dwelt in before. Just stay here till I come
again and tell you that it is finished.’ Having said this she flew
merrily away, and Ferko, reassured by her words, lay down on the grass
and slept peacefully till the next morning.
Early on the following day the whole town was on its feet, and
everyone wondered how and where the stranger would build the wonderful
palace. The Princess alone was silent and sorrowful, and had cried all
night till her pillow was wet, so much did she take the fate of the
beautiful youth to heart.
Ferko spent the whole day in the meadows waiting the return of the
bee. And when evening was come the queen bee flew by, and perching on
his shoulder she said, ‘The wonderful palace is ready. Be of good
cheer, and lead the King to the hill just outside the city walls.’ And
humming gaily she flew away again.
Ferko went at once to the King and told him the palace was finished.
The whole court went out to see the wonder, and their astonishment was
great at the sight which met their eyes. A splendid palace reared
itself on the hill just outside the walls of the city, made of the
most exquisite flowers that ever grew in mortal garden. The roof was
all of crimson roses, the windows of lilies, the walls of white
carnations, the floors of glowing auriculas and violets, the doors of
gorgeous tulips and narcissi with sunflowers for knockers, and all
round hyacinths and other sweet-smelling flowers bloomed in masses, so
that the air was perfumed far and near and enchanted all who were
present.
This splendid palace had been built by the grateful queen bee, who had
summoned all the other bees in the kingdom to help her.
The King’s amazement knew no bounds, and the Princess’s eyes beamed
with delight as she turned them from the wonderful building on the
delighted Ferko. But the two brothers had grown quite green with envy,
and only declared the more that Ferko was nothing but a wicked
magician.
The King, although he had been surprised and astonished at the way his
commands had been carried out, was very vexed that the stranger should
escape with his life, and turning to the two brothers he said, ‘He has
certainly accomplished the first task, with the aid no doubt of his
diabolical magic; but what shall we give him to do now? Let us make it
as difficult as possible, and if he fails he shall die.’
Then the eldest brother replied, ‘The corn has all been cut, but it
has not yet been put into barns; let the knave collect all the grain
in the kingdom into one big heap before to-morrow night, and if as
much as a stalk of corn is left let him be put to death.’
The Princess grew white with terror when she heard these words; but
Ferko felt much more cheerful than he had done the first time, and
wandered out into the meadows again, wondering how he was to get out
of the difficulty. But he could think of no way of escape. The sun
sank to rest and night came on, when a little mouse started out of the
grass at Ferko’s feet, and said to him, ‘I’m delighted to see you, my
kind benefactor; but why are you looking so sad? Can I be of any help
to you, and thus repay your great kindness to me?’
Then Ferko recognised the mouse whose front paws he had healed, and
replied, ‘Alas! how can you help me in a matter that is beyond any
human power! Before to-morrow night all the grain in the kingdom has
to be gathered into one big heap, and if as much as a stalk of corn is
wanting I must pay for it with my life.’
‘Is that all?’ answered the mouse; ‘that needn’t distress you much.
Just trust in me, and before the sun sets again you shall hear that
your task is done.’ And with these words the little creature scampered
away into the fields.
Ferko, who never doubted that the mouse would be as good as its word,
lay down comforted on the soft grass and slept soundly till next
morning. The day passed slowly, and with the evening came the little
mouse and said, ‘Now there is not a single stalk of corn left in any
field; they are all collected in one big heap on the hill out there.’
Then Ferko went joyfully to the King and told him that all he demanded
had been done. And the whole Court went out to see the wonder, and
were no less astonished than they had been the first time. For in a
heap higher than the King’s palace lay all the grain of the country,
and not a single stalk of corn had been left behind in any of the
fields. And how had all this been done? The little mouse had summoned
every other mouse in the land to its help, and together they had
collected all the grain in the kingdom.