There was a king and queen who had been married for three years, but
had no children, at which they were both much distressed. Once upon
a time the king found himself obliged to make a visit of inspection
round his dominions; he took leave of his queen, set off and was not
at home for eight months. Towards the end of the ninth month the
king returned from his progress through his country, and was already
hard by his capital city, when, as he journeyed over an uninhabited
plain during the most scorching heat of summer, he felt such
excessive thirst that he sent his servants round about to see if
they could find water anywhere and let him know of it at once. The
servants dispersed in various directions, sought in vain for a whole
hour, and returned without success to the king. The thirst-tormented
king proceeded to traverse the whole plain far and wide himself, not
believing that there was not a spring somewhere or other; on he
rode, and on a level spot, on which there had not previously been
any water, he espied a well with a new wooden fence round it, full
to the brim with spring water, in the midst of which floated a
silver cup with a golden handle. The king sprang from his horse and
reached after the cup with his right hand; but the cup, just as if
it were alive and had eyes, darted quickly on one side and floated
again by itself. The king knelt down and began to try to catch it,
now with his right hand, now with his left, but it moved and dodged
away in such a manner that, not being able to seize it with one
hand, he tried to catch it with both. But scarcely had he reached
out with both hands when the cup dived like a fish, and floated
again on the surface. 'Hang it!' thought the king, 'I can't help
myself with the cup, I'll manage without it.' He then bent down to
the water, which was as clear as crystal and as cold as ice, and
began in his thirst to drink. Meanwhile his long beard, which
reached down to his girdle, dipped into the water. When he had
quenched his thirst, he wanted to get up again--something was
holding his beard and wouldn't let it go. He pulled once and again,
but it was of no use; he cried out therefore in anger, 'Who's there?
let go!' 'It's I, the subterranean king, immortal Bony, and I shall
not let go till you give me that which you left unknowingly at
home, and which you do not expect to find on your return.' The king
looked into the depth of the well, and there was a huge head like a
tub, with green eyes and a mouth from ear to ear, which was holding
the king by the beard with extended claws like those of a crab, and
was laughing mischievously. The king thought that a thing of which
he had not known before starting, and which he did not expect on his
return, could not be of great value, so he said to the apparition,
'I give it.' The apparition burst with laughter and vanished with a
flash of fire, and with it vanished also the well, the water, the
wooden fence, and the cup; and the king was again on a hillock by a
little wood kneeling on dry sand, and there was nothing more. The
king got up, crossed himself, sprang on his horse, hastened to his
attendants, and rode on.
In a week or maybe a fortnight the king arrived at his capital; the
people came out in crowds to meet him; he went in procession to the
great court of the palace and entered the corridor. In the corridor
stood the queen awaiting him, and holding close to her bosom a
cushion, on which lay a child, beautiful as the moon, kicking in
swaddling clothes. The king recollected himself, sighed painfully,
and said within himself: 'This is what I left without knowing and
found without expecting!' And bitterly, bitterly did he weep. All
marvelled, but nobody dared to ask the cause. The king took his son,
without saying a word, in his arms, gazed long on his innocent face;
carried him into the palace himself, laid him in the cradle, and,
suppressing his sorrow, devoted himself to the government of his
realm, but was never again cheerful as formerly, since he was
perpetually tormented by the thought that some day Bony would claim
his son.
Meanwhile weeks, months, and years flowed on, and no one came for
his son. The prince, named 'Unexpected,' grew and developed, and
eventually became a handsome youth. The king also in course of time
regained his usual cheerfulness; and forgot what had taken place,
but alas! everybody did not forget so easily.
Once the prince, while hunting in a forest, became separated from
his suite and found himself in a savage wilderness. Suddenly there
appeared before him a hideous old man with green eyes, who said:
'How do you do, Prince Unexpected? You have made me wait for you a
long time.' 'Who are you?' 'That you will find out hereafter, but
now, when you return to your father, greet him from me, and tell him
that I should be glad if he would close accounts with me, for if he
doesn't soon get out of my debt of himself, he will repent it
bitterly.' After saying this the hideous old man disappeared, and
the prince in amazement turned his horse, rode home and told the
king his adventure. The king turned as pale as a sheet, and revealed
the frightful secret to his son. 'Don't cry, father!' replied the
prince, 'it isn't a great misfortune! I shall manage to force Bony
to renounce the right over me, which he tricked you out of in so
underhand a manner, and if in the course of a year I do not return,
it will be a token that we shall see each other no more.' The prince
prepared for his journey, the king gave him a suit of steel armour,
a sword, and a horse, and the queen hung round his neck a cross of
pure gold. At leave-taking they embraced affectionately, wept
heartily, and the prince rode off.
On he rode one day, two days, three days, and at the end of the
fourth day at the setting of the sun he came to the shore of the
sea, and in the self-same bay espied twelve dresses, white as snow,
though in the water, as far as the eye could reach, there was no
living soul to be seen; only twelve white geese were swimming at a
distance from the shore. Curious to know to whom they belonged, he
took one of the dresses, let his horse loose in a meadow, concealed
himself in a neighbouring thicket, and waited to see what would come
to pass. Thereupon the geese, after disporting themselves on the
sea, swam to the shore; eleven of them went to the dresses, each
threw herself on the ground and became a beautiful damsel, dressed
herself with speed, and flew away into the plain. The twelfth goose,
the last and prettiest of all, did not venture to come out on the
shore, but only wistfully stretched out her neck, looking on all
sides. On seeing the prince she called out with a human voice:
'Prince Unexpected, give me my dress; I will be grateful to you in
return.' The prince hearkened to her, placed the dress on the grass,
and modestly turned away in another direction. The goose came out on
the grass, changed herself into a damsel, dressed herself hastily,
and stood before the prince; she was young and more beautiful than
eye had seen or ear heard of. Blushing, she gave him her white hand,
and, casting her eyes down, said with a pleasing voice: 'I thank
you, good prince, for hearkening to me: I am the youngest daughter
of immortal Bony; he has twelve young daughters, and rules in the
subterranean realm. My father, prince, has long been expecting you
and is very angry; however, don't grieve, and don't be frightened,
but do as I tell you. As soon as you see King Bony, fall at once on
your knees, and, paying no regard to his outcry, upbraiding, and
threats, approach him boldly. What will happen afterwards you will
learn, but now we must part.' On saying this the princess stamped on
the ground with her little foot; the ground sprang open at once, and
they descended into the subterranean realm, right into Bony's
palace, which shone all underground brighter than our sun. The
prince stepped boldly into the reception-room. Bony was sitting on a
golden throne with a glittering crown on his head; his eyes gleamed
like two saucers of green glass and his hands were like the nippers
of a crab. As soon as he espied him at a distance, the prince fell
on his knees, and Bony yelled so horribly that the vaults of the
subterranean dominion quaked; but the prince boldly moved on his
knees towards the throne, and, when he was only a few paces from it,
the king smiled and said: 'Thou hast marvellous luck in succeeding
in making me smile; remain in our subterranean realm, but before
thou becomest a true citizen thereof thou art bound to execute three
commands of mine; but because it is late to-day, we will begin
to-morrow; meanwhile go to thy room.'
The prince slept comfortably in the room assigned to him, and early
on the morrow Bony summoned him and said: 'We will see, prince, what
thou canst do. In the course of the following night build me a
palace of pure marble; let the windows be of crystal, the roof of
gold, an elegant garden round about it, and in the garden seats and
fountains; if thou buildest it, thou wilt gain thyself my love; if
not, I shall command thy head to be cut off.' The prince heard it,
returned to his apartment, and was sitting mournfully thinking of
the death that threatened him, when outside at the window a bee came
buzzing and said: 'Let me in!' He opened the lattice, in flew the
bee, and the princess, Bony's youngest daughter, appeared before the
wondering prince. 'What are you thus thinking about, Prince
Unexpected?' 'Alas! I am thinking that your father wishes to deprive
me of life.' 'Don't be afraid! lie down to sleep, and when you get
up to-morrow morning your palace will be ready.'
So, too, it came to pass. At dawn the prince came out of his room
and espied a more beautiful palace than he had ever seen, and Bony,
when he saw it, wondered, and wouldn't believe his own eyes. 'Well!
thou hast won this time, and now thou hast my second command. I
shall place my twelve daughters before thee to-morrow; if thou dost
not guess which of them is the youngest, thou wilt place thy head
beneath the axe.' 'I unable to recognise the youngest princess!'
said the prince in his room; 'what difficulty can there be in that?'
'This,' answered the princess, flying into the room in the shape of
a bee, 'that if I don't help you, you won't recognise me, for we are
all so alike that even our father only distinguishes us by our
dress.' 'What am I to do?' 'What, indeed! That will be the youngest
over whose right eye you espy a ladycow; only look well. Adieu!' On
the morrow King Bony again summoned Prince Unexpected. The
princesses stood in a row side by side, all dressed alike and with
eyes cast down. The prince looked and marvelled how alike all the
princesses were; he went past them once, twice--he did not find the
appointed token; the third time he saw a ladycow over the eyebrow of
one, and cried out: 'This is the youngest princess!' 'How the deuce
have you guessed it?' said Bony angrily. 'There must be some
trickery here. I must deal with your lordship differently. In three
hours you will come here again, and will show your cleverness in my
presence. I shall light a straw, and you will stitch a pair of boots
before it goes out, and if you don't do it you will perish.'
The prince returned desponding and found the bee already in his
apartment. 'Why pensive again, prince?' 'How shouldn't I be pensive,
when your father wants me to stitch him a pair of boots, for what
sort of cobbler am I?' 'What else will you do?' 'What am I to do? I
shan't stitch the boots, and I'm not afraid of death--one can but
die once!' 'No, prince, you shall not die! I will endeavour to
rescue you, and we will either escape together or perish together!
We must flee--there's nothing else to be done.' Saying this, the
princess spat on one of the window-panes, and the spittle
immediately froze. She then went out of the room with the prince,
locked the door after her, and threw the key far away; then, taking
each other by the hands, they ascended rapidly, and in a moment
found themselves on the very spot whence they had descended into the
subterranean realm; there was the self-same sea, the self-same shore
overgrown with rushes and thornbushes, the self-same fresh meadow,
and in the meadow cantered the prince's well-fed horse, who, as soon
as he descried his rider, came galloping straight to him. The prince
didn't stop long to think, but sprang on his horse, the princess
seated herself behind him, and off they set as swift as an arrow.
King Bony at the appointed hour did not wait for Prince Unexpected,
but sent to ask him why he did not appear. Finding the door locked,
the servants knocked at it vigorously, and the spittle answered them
from the middle of the room in the prince's voice, 'Anon!' The
servants carried this answer to the king; he waited, waited, no
prince; he therefore again sent the same servants, who heard the
same answer: 'Anon!' and carried what they had heard to the king.
'What's this? Does he mean to make fun of me?' shouted the king in
wrath: 'Go at once, break the door open and conduct him to me!' The
servants hurried off, broke open the door, and rushed in. What,
indeed? there was nobody there, and the spittle on the pane of glass
was splitting with laughter at them. Bony all but burst with rage,
and ordered them all to start off in pursuit of the prince,
threatening them with death if they returned empty-handed. They
sprang on horseback and hastened away after the prince and princess.
Meanwhile Prince Unexpected and the princess, Bony's daughter, were
hurrying away on their spirited horse, and amidst their rapid flight
heard 'tramp, tramp,' behind them. The prince sprang from the horse,
put his ear to the ground and said, 'They are pursuing us.' 'Then,'
said the princess, 'we have no time to lose.' Instantly she
transformed herself into a river, changed the prince into a bridge,
the horse into a raven, and the grand highway beyond the bridge
divided into three roads. Swiftly on the fresh track hastened the
pursuers, came on to the bridge, and stood stupefied; they saw the
track up to the bridge, but beyond it disappeared, and the highway
divided into three roads. There was nothing to be done but to
return, and they came with nought. Bony shouted with rage, and cried
out: 'A bridge and a river! It was they. How was it that ye did not
guess it? Back, and don't return without them!' The pursuers
recommenced the pursuit.
'I hear "tramp, tramp!"' whispered the princess, Bony's daughter,
affrightedly to Prince Unexpected, who sprang from the saddle, put
his ear to the ground, and replied: 'They are making haste, and are
not far off.' That instant the princess and prince, and with them
also their horse, became a gloomy forest, in which were roads,
by-roads, and footpaths without number, and on one of them it seemed
that two riders were hastening on a horse. Following the fresh
track, the pursuers came up to the forest, and when they espied the
fugitives in it, they hastened speedily after them. On and on
hurried the pursuers, seeing continually before them a thick forest,
a wide road and the fugitives on it; now, now they thought to
overtake them, when the fugitives and the thick forest suddenly
vanished, and they found themselves at the self-same place whence
they had started in pursuit. They returned, therefore, again to Bony
empty-handed. 'A horse, a horse! I'll go myself! they won't escape
out of _my_ hands!' yelled Bony, foaming at the mouth, and started
in pursuit.
Again the princess said to Prince Unexpected: 'Methinks they are
pursuing us, and this time it is Bony, my father, himself, but the
first church is the boundary of his dominion, and he won't be able
to pursue us further. Give me your golden cross.' The prince took
off his affectionate mother's gift and gave it to the princess, and
in a moment she was transformed into a church, he into the priest,
and the horse into the bell; and that instant up came Bony. 'Monk!'
Bony asked the priest, 'hast thou not seen some travellers on
horseback?' 'Only just now Prince Unexpected rode this way with the
princess, Bony's daughter. They came into the church, performed
their devotions, gave money for a mass for your good health, and
ordered me to present their respects to you if you should ride this
way.' Bony, too, returned empty-handed. But Prince Unexpected rode
on with the princess, Bony's daughter, in no further fear of
pursuit.
They rode gently on, when they saw before them a beautiful town,
into which the prince felt an irresistible longing to go. 'Prince,'
said the princess, 'don't go; my heart forebodes misfortune there.'
'I'll only ride there for a short time, and look round the town, and
we'll then proceed on our journey.' 'It's easy enough to ride
thither, but will it be as easy to return? Nevertheless, as you
absolutely desire it, go, and I will remain here in the form of a
white stone till you return; be circumspect, my beloved; the king,
the queen, and the princess, their daughter, will come out to meet
you, and with them will be a beautiful little boy--don't kiss him,
for, if you do, you will forget me at once, and will never set eyes
on me more in the world--I shall die of despair. I will wait for you
here on the road for three days, and if on the third day you don't
return, remember that I perish, and perish all through you.' The
prince took leave and rode to the town, and the princess transformed
herself into a white stone, and remained on the road.
One day passed, a second passed, the third also passed, and nothing
was seen of the prince. Poor princess! He had not obeyed her
counsel; in the town, the king, the queen, and the princess their
daughter, had come out to meet him, and with them walked a little
boy, a curly-headed chatterbox, with eyes as bright as stars. The
child rushed straight into the prince's arms, who was so captivated
by the beauty of the lad that he forgot everything, and kissed the
child affectionately. That moment his memory was darkened, and he
utterly forgot the princess, Bony's daughter.
The princess lay as a white stone by the wayside, one day, two days,
and when the third day passed and the prince did not return from the
town, she transformed herself into a cornflower, and sprang in among
the rye by the roadside. 'Here I shall stay by the roadside; maybe
some passer-by will pull me up or trample me into the ground,' said
she, and tears like dew-drops glittered on the azure petals. Just
then an old man came along the road, espied the cornflower in the
rye by the wayside, was captivated by its beauty, extracted it
carefully from the ground, carried it into his dwelling, set it in a
flower-pot, watered it, and began to tend it attentively. But--O
marvel!--ever since the time that the cornflower was brought into
his dwelling, all kind of wonders began to happen in it. Scarcely
was the old man awake, when everything in the house was already set
in order, nowhere was the least atom of dust remaining. At noon he
came home--dinner was all ready, the table set; he had but to sit
down and eat as much as he wanted. The old man wondered and
wondered, till at last terror took possession of him, and he betook
himself for advice to an old witch of his acquaintance in the
neighbourhood. 'Do this,' the witch advised him: 'get up before the
first morning dawn, before the cocks crow to announce daylight, and
notice diligently what begins to stir first in the house, and that
which does stir, cover with this napkin: what will happen further,
you will see.'
The old man didn't close his eyes the whole night, and as soon as
the first gleam appeared and things began to be visible in the
house, he saw how the cornflower suddenly moved in the flower-pot,
sprang out, and began to stir about the room; when simultaneously
everything began to put itself in its place; the dust began to sweep
itself clean away, and the fire kindled itself in the stove. The old
man sprang cleverly out of his bed and placed the cloth on the
flower as it endeavoured to escape, when lo! the flower became a
beautiful damsel--the princess, Bony's daughter. 'What have you
done?' cried the princess. 'Why have you brought life back again to
me? My betrothed, Prince Unexpected, has forgotten me, and,
therefore, life has become distasteful to me.' 'Your betrothed,
Prince Unexpected, is going to be married to-day; the wedding feast
is ready, and the guests are beginning to assemble.'
The princess wept, but after awhile dried her tears, dressed herself
in frieze, and went into the town like a village girl. She came to
the royal kitchen, where there was great noise and bustle. She went
up to the clerk of the kitchen with humble and attractive grace, and
said in a sweet voice: 'Dear sir, do me one favour; allow me to make
a wedding-cake for Prince Unexpected.' Occupied with work, the first
impulse of the clerk of the kitchen was to give the girl a rebuff,
but when he looked at her, the words died on his lips, and he
answered kindly: 'Ah, my beauty of beauties! do what you will; I
will hand the prince your cake myself.' The cake was soon baked, and
all the invited guests were sitting at table. The clerk of the
kitchen himself placed a huge cake on a silver dish before the
prince; but scarce had the prince made a cut in the side of it, when
lo! an unheard-of marvel displayed itself in the presence of all. A
gray tom-pigeon and a white hen-pigeon came out of the cake; the
tom-pigeon walked along the table, and the hen-pigeon walked after
him, cooing:
'Stay, stay, my pigeonet, oh stay!
Don't from thy true love flee away;
My faithless lover I pursue,
Prince Unexpected like unto,
Who Bony's daughter did betray.'
Scarcely had Prince Unexpected heard this cooing of the pigeon, when
he regained his lost recollection, bounced from the table, rushed to
the door, and behind the door the princess, Bony's daughter, took
him by the hand; they went together down the corridor, and before
them stood a horse saddled and bridled.
Why delay? Prince Unexpected and the princess, Bony's daughter,
sprang on the horse, started on the road, and at last arrived
happily in the realm of Prince Unexpected's father. The king and
queen received them with joy and merriment, and didn't wait long
before they prepared them a magnificent wedding, the like of which
eye never saw and ear never heard of.
* * * * *
With the above story should be compared that of 'The Water King, and
Vasilissa the Wise' (Ralston, p. 120). A large number of tales that
may also be compared with it are mentioned by Mr. Ralston in pp.
132-133 of his Russian Folk-tales. As to the interpretation of
'Prince Unexpected,' it is very tempting to look upon Kostchey's
twelve daughters as representing the twelve months. And, as the year
anciently began with spring, Kostchey's youngest daughter would be
the month which forms the transition from winter to spring. The
interruption of their progress by Prince Unexpected's temporary
forgetfulness may be explained as the temporary cessation of warm
weather and return of a kind of secondary winter, which often
occurs in early spring. Prince Unexpected himself may, perhaps, be
considered as representing the sun, who has been held in captivity
by the winter and has escaped with the last month of the year.
Vasilissa the Wise is the _eldest_ daughter of the Water King, and
would thus represent the first month of the new year.