Three days after my arrival, walking out of curiosity to the northeast
coast of the island, I observed at some distance in the sea something
that looked like a boat overturned. I pulled off my shoes and stockings,
and wading two or three hundred yards, I plainly saw it to be a real
boat, which I supposed might by some tempest have been driven from a
ship. I returned immediately to the city for help, and after a huge
amount of labor I managed to get my boat to the royal port of Blefuscu,
where a great crowd of people appeared, full of wonder at sight of so
prodigious a vessel. I told the Emperor that my good fortune had thrown
this boat in my way to carry me to some place whence I might return to
my native country, and begged his orders for materials to fit it up, and
leave to depart--which, after many kindly speeches, he was pleased to
grant.
Meanwhile the Emperor of Lilliput, uneasy at my long absence (but never
imagining that I had the least notice of his designs), sent a person of
rank to inform the Emperor of Blefuscu of my disgrace; this messenger
had orders to represent the great mercy of his master, who was content
to punish me with the loss of my eyes, and who expected that his brother
of Blefuscu would have me sent back to Lilliput, bound hand and foot,
to be punished as a traitor. The Emperor of Blefuscu answered with many
civil excuses. He said that as for sending me bound, his brother knew
it was impossible. Moreover, though I had taken away his fleet he was
grateful to me for many good offices I had done him in making the peace.
But that both their Majesties would soon be made easy; for I had found
a prodigious vessel on the shore, able to carry me on the sea, which
he had given orders to fit up; and he hoped in a few weeks both empires
would be free from me.
With this answer the messenger returned to Lilliput; and I (though the
monarch of Blefuscu secretly offered me his gracious protection if I
would continue in his service) hastened my departure, resolving never
more to put confidence in princes.
In about a month I was ready to take leave. The Emperor of Blefuscu,
with the Empress and the royal family, came out of the palace; and I lay
down on my face to kiss their hands, which they graciously gave me. His
Majesty presented me with fifty purses of sprugs (their greatest gold
coin) and his picture at full length, which I put immediately into one
of my gloves, to keep it from being hurt. Many other ceremonies took
place at my departure.
I stored the boat with meat and drink, and took six cows and two bulls
alive, with as many ewes and rams, intending to carry them into my own
country; and to feed them on board, I had a good bundle of hay and a bag
of corn. I would gladly have taken a dozen of the natives; but this was
a thing the Emperor would by no means permit, and besides a diligent
search into my pockets, his Majesty pledged my honor not to carry away
any of his subjects, though with their own consent and desire.
Having thus prepared all things as well as I was able, I set sail. When
I had made twenty-four leagues, by my reckoning, from the island of
Blefuscu, I saw a sail steering to the northeast. I hailed her, but
could get no answer; yet I found I gained upon her, for the wind
slackened; and in half an hour she spied me, and discharged a gun. I
came up with her between five and six in the evening, Sept. 26, 1701;
but my heart leaped within me to see her English colors. I put my cows
and sheep into my coat pockets, and got on board with all my little
cargo. The captain received me with kindness, and asked me to tell him
what place I came from last; but at my answer he thought I was raving.
However, I took my black cattle and sheep out of my pocket, which, after
great astonishment, clearly convinced him.
We arrived in England on the 13th of April, 1702. I stayed two months
with my wife and family; but my eager desire to see foreign countries
would suffer me to remain no longer. However, while in England I made
great profit by showing my cattle to persons of quality and others; and
before I began my second voyage I sold them for 600_l_. I left 1500_l_.
with my wife, and fixed her in a good house; then taking leave of her
and my boy and girl, with tears on both sides, I sailed on board the
“Adventure.” (1)
(1) Swift.
THE PRINCESS ON THE GLASS HILL
Once upon a time there was a man who had a meadow which lay on the side
of a mountain, and in the meadow there was a barn in which he stored
hay. But there had not been much hay in the barn for the last two years,
for every St. John’s eve, when the grass was in the height of its vigor,
it was all eaten clean up, just as if a whole flock of sheep had gnawed
it down to the ground during the night. This happened once, and it
happened twice, but then the man got tired of losing his crop, and
said to his sons--he had three of them, and the third was called
Cinderlad--that one of them must go and sleep in the barn on St. John’s
night, for it was absurd to let the grass be eaten up again, blade and
stalk, as it had been the last two years, and the one who went to watch
must keep a sharp look-out, the man said.
The eldest was quite willing to go to the meadow; he would watch the
grass, he said, and he would do it so well that neither man, nor beast,
nor even the devil himself should have any of it. So when evening came
he went to the barn, and lay down to sleep, but when night was drawing
near there was such a rumbling and such an earthquake that the walls and
roof shook again, and the lad jumped up and took to his heels as fast as
he could, and never even looked back, and the barn remained empty that
year just as it had been for the last two.
Next St. John’s eve the man again said that he could not go on in this
way, losing all the grass in the outlying field year after year, and
that one of his sons must just go there and watch it, and watch well
too. So the next oldest son was willing to show what he could do. He
went to the barn and lay down to sleep, as his brother had done; but
when night was drawing near there was a great rumbling, and then an
earthquake, which was even worse than that on the former St. John’s
night, and when the youth heard it he was terrified, and went off,
running as if for a wager.
The year after, it was Cinderlad’s turn, but when he made ready to go
the others laughed at him, and mocked him. “Well, you are just the right
one to watch the hay, you who have never learned anything but how to sit
among the ashes and bake yourself!” said they. Cinderlad, however, did
not trouble himself about what they said, but when evening drew near
rambled away to the outlying field. When he got there he went into the
barn and lay down, but in about an hour’s time the rumbling and creaking
began, and it was frightful to hear it. “Well, if it gets no worse than
that, I can manage to stand it,” thought Cinderlad. In a little time
the creaking began again, and the earth quaked so that all the hay flew
about the boy. “Oh! if it gets no worse than that I can manage to stand
it,” thought Cinderlad. But then came a third rumbling, and a third
earthquake, so violent that the boy thought the walls and roof had
fallen down, but when that was over everything suddenly grew as still
as death around him. “I am pretty sure that it will come again,” thought
Cinderlad; but no, it did not. Everything was quiet, and everything
stayed quiet, and when he had lain still a short time he heard something
that sounded as if a horse were standing chewing just outside the barn
door. He stole away to the door, which was ajar, to see what was there,
and a horse was standing eating. It was so big, and fat, and fine a
horse that Cinderlad had never seen one like it before, and a saddle
and bridle lay upon it, and a complete suit of armor for a knight, and
everything was of copper, and so bright that it shone again. “Ha, ha! it
is thou who eatest up our hay then,” thought the boy; “but I will stop
that.” So he made haste, and took out his steel for striking fire, and
threw it over the horse, and then it had no power to stir from the spot,
and became so tame that the boy could do what he liked with it. So he
mounted it and rode away to a place which no one knew of but himself,
and there he tied it up. When he went home again his brothers laughed
and asked how he had got on.
“You didn’t lie long in the barn, if even you have been so far as the
field!” said they.
“I lay in the barn till the sun rose, but I saw nothing and heard
nothing, not I,” said the boy. “God knows what there was to make you two
so frightened.”
“Well, we shall soon see whether you have watched the meadow or not,”
answered the brothers, but when they got there the grass was all
standing just as long and as thick as it had been the night before.
The next St. John’s eve it was the same thing, once again: neither of
the two brothers dared to go to the outlying field to watch the crop,
but Cinderlad went, and everything happened exactly the same as on the
previous St. John’s eve: first there was a rumbling and an earthquake,
and then there was another, and then a third: but all three earthquakes
were much, very much more violent than they had been the year before.
Then everything became still as death again, and the boy heard something
chewing outside the barn door, so he stole as softly as he could to
the door, which was slightly ajar, and again there was a horse standing
close by the wall of the house, eating and chewing, and it was far
larger and fatter than the first horse, and it had a saddle on its back,
and a bridle was on it too, and a full suit of armor for a knight, all
of bright silver, and as beautiful as anyone could wish to see. “Ho,
ho!” thought the boy, “is it thou who eatest up our hay in the night?
but I will put a stop to that.” So he took out his steel for striking
fire, and threw it over the horse’s mane, and the beast stood there as
quiet as a lamb. Then the boy rode this horse, too, away to the place
where he kept the other, and then went home again.
“I suppose you will tell us that you have watched well again this time,”
said the brothers.
“Well, so I have,” said Cinderlad. So they went there again, and there
the grass was, standing as high and as thick as it had been before, but
that did not make them any kinder to Cinderlad.
When the third St. John’s night came neither of the two elder brothers
dared to lie in the outlying barn to watch the grass, for they had been
so heartily frightened the night that they had slept there that they
could not get over it, but Cinderlad dared to go, and everything
happened just the same as on the two former nights. There were three
earthquakes, each worse than the other, and the last flung the boy from
one wall of the barn to the other, but then everything suddenly
became still as death. When he had lain quietly a short time, he heard
something chewing outside the barn door; then he once more stole to the
door, which was slightly ajar, and behold, a horse was standing just
outside it, which was much larger and fatter than the two others he had
caught. “Ho, ho! it is thou, then, who art eating up our hay this time,”
thought the boy; “but I will put a stop to that.” So he pulled out his
steel for striking fire, and threw it over the horse, and it stood as
still as if it had been nailed to the field, and the boy could do just
what he liked with it. Then he mounted it and rode away to the place
where he had the two others, and then he went home again. Then the two
brothers mocked him just as they had done before, and told him that they
could see that he must have watched the grass very carefully that night,
for he looked just as if he were walking in his sleep; but Cinderlad did
not trouble himself about that, but just bade them go to the field and
see. They did go, and this time too the grass was standing, looking as
fine and as thick as ever.
The King of the country in which Cinderlad’s father dwelt had a daughter
whom he would give to no one who could not ride up to the top of the
glass hill, for there was a high, high hill of glass, slippery as ice,
and it was close to the King’s palace. Upon the very top of this the
King’s daughter was to sit with three gold apples in her lap, and the
man who could ride up and take the three golden apples should marry her,
and have half the kingdom. The King had this proclaimed in every church
in the whole kingdom, and in many other kingdoms too. The Princess was
very beautiful, and all who saw her fell violently in love with her,
even in spite of themselves. So it is needless to say that all the
princes and knights were eager to win her, and half the kingdom besides,
and that for this cause they came riding thither from the very end of
the world, dressed so splendidly that their raiments gleamed in the
sunshine, and riding on horses which seemed to dance as they went, and
there was not one of these princes who did not think that he was sure to
win the Princess.
When the day appointed by the King had come, there was such a host of
knights and princes under the glass hill that they seemed to swarm, and
everyone who could walk or even creep was there too, to see who won the
King’s daughter. Cinderlad’s two brothers were there too, but they would
not hear of letting him go with them, for he was so dirty and black
with sleeping and grubbing among the ashes that they said everyone would
laugh at them if they were seen in the company of such an oaf.
“Well, then, I will go all alone by myself,” said Cinderlad.
When the two brothers got to the glass hill, all the princes and knights
were trying to ride up it, and their horses were in a foam; but it was
all in vain, for no sooner did the horses set foot upon the hill than
down they slipped, and there was not one which could get even so much as
a couple of yards up. Nor was that strange, for the hill was as smooth
as a glass window-pane, and as steep as the side of a house. But they
were all eager to win the King’s daughter and half the kingdom, so they
rode and they slipped, and thus it went on. At length all the horses
were so tired that they could do no more, and so hot that the foam
dropped from them and the riders were forced to give up the attempt. The
King was just thinking that he would cause it to be proclaimed that the
riding should begin afresh on the following day, when perhaps it might
go better, when suddenly a knight came riding up on so fine a horse that
no one had ever seen the like of it before, and the knight had armor of
copper, and his bridle was of copper too, and all his accoutrements were
so bright that they shone again. The other knights all called out to him
that he might just as well spare himself the trouble of trying to ride
up the glass hill, for it was of no use to try; but he did not heed
them, and rode straight off to it, and went up as if it were nothing at
all. Thus he rode for a long way--it may have been a third part of the
way up--but when he had got so far he turned his horse round and rode
down again. But the Princess thought that she had never yet seen so
handsome a knight, and while he was riding up she was sitting thinking,
“Oh! how I hope he may be able to come up to the top!” And when she saw
that he was turning his horse back she threw one of the golden apples
down after him, and it rolled into his shoe. But when he had come down
from off the hill he rode away, and that so fast that no one knew what
had become of him.
So all the princes and knights were bidden to present themselves before
the King that night, so that he who had ridden so far up the glass hill
might show the golden apple which the King’s daughter had thrown down.
But no one had anything to show. One knight presented himself after the
other, and none could show the apple.
At night, too, Cinderlad’s brothers came home again and had a long story
to tell about riding up the glass hill. At first, they said, there was
not one who was able to get even so much as one step up, but then came
a knight who had armor of copper, and a bridle of copper, and his armor
and trappings were so bright that they shone to a great distance, and it
was something like a sight to see him riding. He rode one-third of the
way up the glass hill, and he could easily have ridden the whole of it
if he had liked; but he had turned back, for he had made up his mind
that that was enough for once. “Oh! I should have liked to see him too,
that I should,” said Cinderlad, who was as usual sitting by the chimney
among the cinders. “You, indeed!” said the brothers, “you look as if you
were fit to be among such great lords, nasty beast that you are to sit
there!”
Next day the brothers were for setting out again, and this time too
Cinderlad begged them to let him go with them and see who rode; but no,
they said he was not fit to do that, for he was much too ugly and dirty.
“Well, well, then I will go all alone by myself,” said Cinderlad. So the
brothers went to the glass hill, and all the princes and knights began
to ride again, and this time they had taken care to roughen the shoes of
their horses; but that did not help them: they rode and they slipped as
they had done the day before, and not one of them could get even so far
as a yard up the hill. When they had tired out their horses, so that
they could do no more, they again had to stop altogether. But just as
the King was thinking that it would be well to proclaim that the riding
should take place next day for the last time, so that they might have
one more chance, he suddenly bethought himself that it would be well to
wait a little longer to see if the knight in copper armor would come on
this day too. But nothing was to be seen of him. Just as they were still
looking for him, however, came a knight riding on a steed that was much,
much finer than that which the knight in copper armor had ridden, and
this knight had silver armor and a silver saddle and bridle, and all
were so bright that they shone and glistened when he was a long way off.
Again the other knights called to him, and said that he might just as
well give up the attempt to ride up the glass hill, for it was useless
to try; but the knight paid no heed to that, but rode straight away
to the glass hill, and went still farther up than the knight in copper
armor had gone; but when he had ridden two-thirds of the way up he
turned his horse around, and rode down again. The Princess liked this
knight still better than she had liked the other, and sat longing that
he might be able to get up above, and when she saw him turning back she
threw the second apple after him, and it rolled into his shoe, and as
soon as he had got down the glass hill he rode away so fast that no one
could see what had become of him.
In the evening, when everyone was to appear before the King and
Princess, in order that he who had the golden apple might show it, one
knight went in after the other, but none of them had a golden apple to
show.
At night the two brothers went home as they had done the night before,
and told how things had gone, and how everyone had ridden, but no one
had been able to get up the hill. “But last of all,” they said, “came
one in silver armor, and he had a silver bridle on his horse, and a
silver saddle, and oh, but he could ride! He took his horse two-thirds
of the way up the hill, but then he turned back. He was a fine fellow,”
said the brothers, “and the Princess threw the second golden apple to
him!”
“Oh, how I should have liked to see him too!” said Cinderlad.
“Oh, indeed! He was a little brighter than the ashes that you sit
grubbing among, you dirty black creature!” said the brothers.
On the third day everything went just as on the former days. Cinderlad
wanted to go with them to look at the riding, but the two brothers would
not have him in their company, and when they got to the glass hill there
was no one who could ride even so far as a yard up it, and everyone
waited for the knight in silver armor, but he was neither to be seen nor
heard of. At last, after a long time, came a knight riding upon a horse
that was such a fine one, its equal had never yet been seen. The knight
had golden armor, and the horse a golden saddle and bridle, and these
were all so bright that they shone and dazzled everyone, even while the
knight was still at a great distance. The other princes and knights were
not able even to call to tell him how useless it was to try to ascend
the hill, so amazed were they at sight of his magnificence. He rode
straight away to the glass hill, and galloped up it as if it were no
hill at all, so that the Princess had not even time to wish that he
might get up the whole way. As soon as he had ridden to the top, he took
the third golden apple from the lap of the Princess and then turned his
horse about and rode down again, and vanished from their sight before
anyone was able to say a word to him.
When the two brothers came home again at night they had much to tell of
how the riding had gone off that day, and at last they told about the
knight in the golden armor too. “He was a fine fellow, that was! Such
another splendid knight is not to be found on earth!” said the brothers.
“Oh, how I should have liked to see him too!” said Cinderlad.
“Well, he shone nearly as brightly as the coal-heaps that thou art
always lying raking among, dirty black creature that thou art!” said the
brothers.
Next day all the knights and princes were to appear before the King and
Princess--it had been too late for them to do it the night before--in
order that he who had the golden apple might produce it. They all went
in turn, first princes, and then knights, but none of them had a golden
apple.
“But somebody must have it,” said the King, “for with our own eyes we
all saw a man ride up and take it.” So he commanded that everyone in the
kingdom should come to the palace, and see if he could show the apple.
And one after the other they all came, but no one had the golden apple,
and after a long, long time Cinderlad’s two brothers came likewise. They
were the last of all, so the King inquired of them if there was no one
else in the kingdom left to come.
“Oh! yes, we have a brother,” said the two, “but he never got the golden
apple! He never left the cinder-heap on any of the three days.”
“Never mind that,” said the King; “as everyone else has come to the
palace, let him come too.”
So Cinderlad was forced to go to the King’s palace.
“Hast thou the golden apple?” asked the King.
“Yes, here is the first, and here is the second, and here is the third,
too,” said Cinderlad, and he took all three apples out of his pocket,
and with that drew off his sooty rags, and appeared there before them in
his bright golden armor, which gleamed as he stood.
“Thou shalt have my daughter, and the half of my kingdom, and thou hast
well earned both!” said the King. So there was a wedding, and Cinderlad
got the King’s daughter, and everyone made merry at the wedding, for all
of them could make merry, though they could not ride up the glass hill,
and if they have not left off their merry-making they must be at it
still.(1)
(1) Asbjornsen and Moe.
THE STORY OF PRINCE AHMED AND THE FAIRY PARIBANOU
There was a sultan, who had three sons and a niece. The eldest of the
Princes was called Houssain, the second Ali, the youngest Ahmed, and the
Princess, his niece, Nouronnihar.
The Princess Nouronnihar was the daughter of the younger brother of the
Sultan, who died, and left the Princess very young. The Sultan took upon
himself the care of his daughter’s education, and brought her up in his
palace with the three Princes, proposing to marry her when she arrived
at a proper age, and to contract an alliance with some neighboring
prince by that means. But when he perceived that the three Princes, his
sons, loved her passionately, he thought more seriously on that affair.
He was very much concerned; the difficulty he foresaw was to make them
agree, and that the two youngest should consent to yield her up to their
elder brother. As he found them positively obstinate, he sent for them
all together, and said to them: “Children, since for your good and
quiet I have not been able to persuade you no longer to aspire to
the Princess, your cousin, I think it would not be amiss if every one
traveled separately into different countries, so that you might not
meet each other. And, as you know I am very curious, and delight in
everything that’s singular, I promise my niece in marriage to him that
shall bring me the most extraordinary rarity; and for the purchase of
the rarity you shall go in search after, and the expense of traveling, I
will give you every one a sum of money.”
As the three Princes were always submissive and obedient to the Sultan’s
will, and each flattered himself fortune might prove favorable to him,
they all consented to it. The Sultan paid them the money he promised
them; and that very day they gave orders for the preparations for their
travels, and took their leave of the Sultan, that they might be the more
ready to go the next morning. Accordingly they all set out at the same
gate of the city, each dressed like a merchant, attended by an officer
of confidence dressed like a slave, and all well mounted and equipped.
They went the first day’s journey together, and lay all at an inn, where
the road was divided into three different tracts. At night, when they
were at supper together, they all agreed to travel for a year, and to
meet at that inn; and that the first that came should wait for the rest;
that, as they had all three taken their leave together of the Sultan,
they might all return together. The next morning by break of day, after
they had embraced and wished each other good success, they mounted their
horses and took each a different road.
Prince Houssain, the eldest brother, arrived at Bisnagar, the capital
of the kingdom of that name, and the residence of its king. He went and
lodged at a khan appointed for foreign merchants; and, having learned
that there were four principal divisions where merchants of all sorts
sold their commodities, and kept shops, and in the midst of which
stood the castle, or rather the King’s palace, he went to one of these
divisions the next day.
Prince Houssain could not view this division without admiration. It was
large, and divided into several streets, all vaulted and shaded from the
sun, and yet very light too. The shops were all of a size, and all
that dealt in the same sort of goods lived in one street; as also the
handicrafts-men, who kept their shops in the smaller streets.
The multitude of shops, stocked with all sorts of merchandise, as the
finest linens from several parts of India, some painted in the most
lively colors, and representing beasts, trees, and flowers; silks and
brocades from Persia, China, and other places, porcelain both from Japan
and China, and tapestries, surprised him so much that he knew not how to
believe his own eyes; but when he came to the goldsmiths and jewelers he
was in a kind of ecstacy to behold such prodigious quantities of wrought
gold and silver, and was dazzled by the lustre of the pearls, diamonds,
rubies, emeralds, and other jewels exposed to sale.
Another thing Prince Houssain particularly admired was the great number
of rose-sellers who crowded the streets; for the Indians are so great
lovers of that flower that no one will stir without a nosegay in his
hand or a garland on his head; and the merchants keep them in pots in
their shops, that the air is perfectly perfumed.
After Prince Houssain had run through that division, street by street,
his thoughts fully employed on the riches he had seen, he was very much
tired, which a merchant perceiving, civilly invited him to sit down in
his shop, and he accepted; but had not been sat down long before he
saw a crier pass by with a piece of tapestry on his arm, about six feet
square, and cried at thirty purses. The Prince called to the crier,
and asked to see the tapestry, which seemed to him to be valued at an
exorbitant price, not only for the size of it, but the meanness of the
stuff; when he had examined it well, he told the crier that he could
not comprehend how so small a piece of tapestry, and of so indifferent
appearance, could be set at so high a price.
The crier, who took him for a merchant, replied: “If this price seems
so extravagant to you, your amazement will be greater when I tell you I
have orders to raise it to forty purses, and not to part with it under.”
“Certainly,” answered Prince Houssain, “it must have something very
extraordinary in it, which I know nothing of.” “You have guessed it,
sir,” replied the crier, “and will own it when you come to know that
whoever sits on this piece of tapestry may be transported in an instant
wherever he desires to be, without being stopped by any obstacle.”
At this discourse of the crier the Prince of the Indies, considering
that the principal motive of his travel was to carry the Sultan, his
father, home some singular rarity, thought that he could not meet with
any which could give him more satisfaction. “If the tapestry,” said he
to the crier, “has the virtue you assign it, I shall not think forty
purses too much, but shall make you a present besides.” “Sir,” replied
the crier, “I have told you the truth; and it is an easy matter to
convince you of it, as soon as you have made the bargain for forty
purses, on condition I show you the experiment. But, as I suppose you
have not so much about you, and to receive them I must go with you to
your khan, where you lodge, with the leave of the master of the shop, we
will go into the back shop, and I will spread the tapestry; and when we
have both sat down, and you have formed the wish to be transported into
your apartment of the khan, if we are not transported thither it shall
be no bargain, and you shall be at your liberty. As to your present,
though I am paid for my trouble by the seller, I shall receive it as a
favor, and be very much obliged to you, and thankful.”
On the credit of the crier, the Prince accepted the conditions, and
concluded the bargain; and, having got the master’s leave, they went
into his back shop; they both sat down on it, and as soon as the Prince
formed his wish to be transported into his apartment at the khan he
presently found himself and the crier there; and, as he wanted not a
more sufficient proof of the virtue of the tapestry, he counted the
crier out forty pieces of gold, and gave him twenty pieces for himself.
In this manner Prince Houssain became the possessor of the tapestry,
and was overjoyed that at his arrival at Bisnagar he had found so rare
a piece, which he never disputed would gain him the hand of Nouronnihar.
In short, he looked upon it as an impossible thing for the Princes his
younger brothers to meet with anything to be compared with it. It was
in his power, by sitting on his tapestry, to be at the place of meeting
that very day; but, as he was obliged to stay there for his brothers, as
they had agreed, and as he was curious to see the King of Bisnagar and
his Court, and to inform himself of the strength, laws, customs, and
religion of the kingdom, he chose to make a longer abode there, and to
spend some months in satisfying his curiosity.
Prince Houssain might have made a longer abode in the kingdom and
Court of Bisnagar, but he was so eager to be nearer the Princess that,
spreading the tapestry, he and the officer he had brought with him sat
down, and as soon as he had formed his wish were transported to the inn
at which he and his brothers were to meet, and where he passed for a
merchant till they came.
Prince Ali, Prince Houssain’s second brother, who designed to travel
into Persia, took the road, having three days after he parted with
his brothers joined a caravan, and after four days’ travel arrived at
Schiraz, which was the capital of the kingdom of Persia. Here he passed
for a jeweler.
The next morning Prince Ali, who traveled only for his pleasure, and
had brought nothing but just necessaries along with him, after he had
dressed himself, took a walk into that part of the town which they at
Schiraz called the bezestein.
Among all the criers who passed backward and forward with several sorts
of goods, offering to sell them, he was not a little surprised to see
one who held an ivory telescope in his hand of about a foot in length
and the thickness of a man’s thumb, and cried it at thirty purses. At
first he thought the crier mad, and to inform himself went to a shop,
and said to the merchant, who stood at the door: “Pray, sir, is not that
man” (pointing to the crier who cried the ivory perspective glass at
thirty purses) “mad? If he is not, I am very much deceived.”
“Indeed, sir,” answered the merchant, “he was in his right senses
yesterday; I can assure you he is one of the ablest criers we have, and
the most employed of any when anything valuable is to be sold. And if he
cries the ivory perspective glass at thirty purses it must be worth as
much or more, on some account or other. He will come by presently, and
we will call him, and you shall be satisfied; in the meantime sit down
on my sofa, and rest yourself.”
Prince Ali accepted the merchant’s obliging offer, and presently
afterward the crier passed by. The merchant called him by his name, and,
pointing to the Prince, said to him: “Tell that gentleman, who asked
me if you were in your right senses, what you mean by crying that ivory
perspective glass, which seems not to be worth much, at thirty purses.
I should be very much amazed myself if I did not know you.” The crier,
addressing himself to Prince Ali, said: “Sir, you are not the only
person that takes me for a madman on account of this perspective glass.
You shall judge yourself whether I am or no, when I have told you its
property and I hope you will value it at as high a price as those I have
showed it to already, who had as bad an opinion of me as you.
“First, sir,” pursued the crier, presenting the ivory pipe to the
Prince, “observe that this pipe is furnished with a glass at both ends;
and consider that by looking through one of them you see whatever object
you wish to behold.” “I am,” said the Prince, “ready to make you all
imaginable reparation for the scandal I have thrown on you if you will
make the truth of what you advance appear,” and as he had the ivory pipe
in his hand, after he had looked at the two glasses he said: “Show me
at which of these ends I must look that I may be satisfied.” The crier
presently showed him, and he looked through, wishing at the same time to
see the Sultan his father, whom he immediately beheld in perfect health,
set on his throne, in the midst of his council. Afterward, as there was
nothing in the world so dear to him, after the Sultan, as the Princess
Nouronnihar, he wished to see her; and saw her at her toilet laughing,
and in a pleasant humor, with her women about her.
Prince Ali wanted no other proof to be persuaded that this perspective
glass was the most valuable thing in the world, and believed that if
he should neglect to purchase it he should never meet again with such
another rarity. He therefore took the crier with him to the khan where
he lodged, and counted him out the money, and received the perspective
glass.
Prince Ali was overjoyed at his bargain, and persuaded himself that,
as his brothers would not be able to meet with anything so rare and
admirable, the Princess Nouronnihar would be the recompense of his
fatigue and trouble; that he thought of nothing but visiting the Court
of Persia incognito, and seeing whatever was curious in Schiraz and
thereabouts, till the caravan with which he came returned back to the
Indies. As soon as the caravan was ready to set out, the Prince joined
them, and arrived happily without any accident or trouble, otherwise
than the length of the journey and fatigue of traveling, at the place of
rendezvous, where he found Prince Houssain, and both waited for Prince
Ahmed.
Prince Ahmed, who took the road of Samarcand, the next day after his
arrival there went, as his brothers had done, into the bezestein, where
he had not walked long but heard a crier, who had an artificial apple
in his hand, cry it at five and thirty purses; upon which he stopped the
crier, and said to him: “Let me see that apple, and tell me what virtue
and extraordinary properties it has, to be valued at so high a rate.”
“Sir,” said the crier, giving it into his hand, “if you look at the
outside of this apple, it is very worthless, but if you consider its
properties, virtues, and the great use and benefit it is to mankind, you
will say it is no price for it, and that he who possesses it is master
of a great treasure. In short, it cures all sick persons of the most
mortal diseases; and if the patient is dying it will recover him
immediately and restore him to perfect health; and this is done after
the easiest manner in the world, which is by the patient’s smelling the
apple.”
“If I may believe you,” replied Prince Ahmed, “the virtues of this apple
are wonderful, and it is invaluable; but what ground have I, for all you
tell me, to be persuaded of the truth of this matter?” “Sir,” replied
the crier, “the thing is known and averred by the whole city of
Samarcand; but, without going any further, ask all these merchants you
see here, and hear what they say. You will find several of them will
tell you they had not been alive this day if they had not made use of
this excellent remedy. And, that you may better comprehend what it is,
I must tell you it is the fruit of the study and experiments of a
celebrated philosopher of this city, who applied himself all his
lifetime to the study and knowledge of the virtues of plants and
minerals, and at last attained to this composition, by which he
performed such surprising cures in this town as will never be forgot,
but died suddenly himself, before he could apply his sovereign remedy,
and left his wife and a great many young children behind him, in very
indifferent circumstances, who, to support her family and provide for
her children, is resolved to sell it.”
While the crier informed Prince Ahmed of the virtues of the artificial
apple, a great many persons came about them and confirmed what he said;
and one among the rest said he had a friend dangerously ill, whose life
was despaired of; and that was a favorable opportunity to show Prince
Ahmed the experiment. Upon which Prince Ahmed told the crier he would
give him forty purses if he cured the sick person.
The crier, who had orders to sell it at that price, said to Prince
Ahmed: “Come, sir, let us go and make the experiment, and the apple
shall be yours; and I can assure you that it will always have the
desired effect.” In short, the experiment succeeded, and the Prince,
after he had counted out to the crier forty purses, and he had delivered
the apple to him, waited patiently for the first caravan that should
return to the Indies, and arrived in perfect health at the inn where the
Princes Houssain and Ali waited for him.
When the Princes met they showed each other their treasures, and
immediately saw through the glass that the Princess was dying. They then
sat down on the carpet, wished themselves with her, and were there in a
moment.
Prince Ahmed no sooner perceived himself in Nouronnihar’s chamber than
he rose off the tapestry, as did also the other two Princes, and went
to the bedside, and put the apple under her nose; some moments after the
Princess opened her eyes, and turned her head from one side to another,
looking at the persons who stood about her; and then rose up in the bed,
and asked to be dressed, just as if she had waked out of a sound sleep.
Her women having presently informed her, in a manner that showed their
joy, that she was obliged to the three Princes for the sudden recovery
of her health, and particularly to Prince Ahmed, she immediately
expressed her joy to see them, and thanked them all together, and
afterward Prince Ahmed in particular.
While the Princess was dressing the Princes went to throw themselves at
the Sultan their father’s feet, and pay their respects to him. But when
they came before him they found he had been informed of their arrival by
the chief of the Princess’s eunuchs, and by what means the Princess had
been perfectly cured. The Sultan received and embraced them with the
greatest joy, both for their return and the recovery of the Princess his
niece, whom he loved as well as if she had been his own daughter, and
who had been given over by the physicians. After the usual ceremonies
and compliments the Princes presented each his rarity: Prince Houssain
his tapestry, which he had taken care not to leave behind him in the
Princess’s chamber; Prince Ali his ivory perspective glass, and Prince
Ahmed his artificial apple; and after each had commended their present,
when they put it into the Sultan’s hands, they begged of him to
pronounce their fate, and declare to which of them he would give the
Princess Nouronnihar for a wife, according to his promise.
The Sultan of the Indies, having heard, without interrupting them, all
that the Princes could represent further about their rarities, and
being well informed of what had happened in relation to the Princess
Nouronnihar’s cure, remained some time silent, as if he were thinking
on what answer he should make. At last he broke the silence, and said
to them: “I would declare for one of you children with a great deal of
pleasure if I could do it with justice; but consider whether I can do it
or no. ‘Tis true, Prince Ahmed, the Princess my niece is obliged to
your artificial apple for her cure; but I must ask you whether or no
you could have been so serviceable to her if you had not known by Prince
Ali’s perspective glass the danger she was in, and if Prince Houssain’s
tapestry had not brought you so soon. Your perspective glass, Prince
Ali, informed you and your brothers that you were like to lose the
Princess your cousin, and there you must own a great obligation.
“You must also grant that that knowledge would have been of no service
without the artificial apple and the tapestry. And lastly, Prince
Houssain, the Princess would be very ungrateful if she should not
show her acknowledgment of the service of your tapestry, which was so
necessary a means toward her cure. But consider, it would have been of
little use if you had not been acquainted with the Princess’s illness
by Prince Ali’s glass, and Prince Ahmed had not applied his artificial
apple. Therefore, as neither tapestry, ivory perspective glass, nor
artificial apple have the least preference one before the other, but, on
the contrary, there’s a perfect equality, I cannot grant the Princess to
any one of you; and the only fruit you have reaped from your travels is
the glory of having equally contributed to restore her health.
“If all this be true,” added the Sultan, “you see that I must have
recourse to other means to determine certainly in the choice I ought
to make among you; and that, as there is time enough between this and
night, I’ll do it to-day. Go and get each of you a bow and arrow, and
repair to the great plain, where they exercise horses. I’ll soon come to
you, and declare I will give the Princess Nouronnihar to him that shoots
the farthest.”
The three Princes had nothing to say against the decision of the Sultan.
When they were out of his presence they each provided themselves with a
bow and arrow, which they delivered to one of their officers, and went
to the plain appointed, followed by a great concourse of people.
The Sultan did not make them wait long for him, and as soon as he
arrived Prince Houssain, as the eldest, took his bow and arrow and shot
first; Prince Ali shot next, and much beyond him; and Prince Ahmed last
of all, but it so happened that nobody could see where his arrow fell;
and, notwithstanding all the diligence that was used by himself and
everybody else, it was not to be found far or near. And though it was
believed that he shot the farthest, and that he therefore deserved the
Princess Nouronnihar, it was, however, necessary that his arrow
should be found to make the matter more evident and certain; and,
notwithstanding his remonstrance, the Sultan judged in favor of Prince
Ali, and gave orders for preparations to be made for the wedding, which
was celebrated a few days after with great magnificence.
Prince Houssain would not honor the feast with his presence. In short,
his grief was so violent and insupportable that he left the Court, and
renounced all right of succession to the crown, to turn hermit.
Prince Ahmed, too, did not come to Prince Ali’s and the Princess
Nouronnihar’s wedding any more than his brother Houssain, but did not
renounce the world as he had done. But, as he could not imagine what had
become of his arrow, he stole away from his attendants and resolved to
search after it, that he might not have anything to reproach himself
with. With this intent he went to the place where the Princes Houssain’s
and Ali’s were gathered up, and, going straight forward from there,
looking carefully on both sides of him, he went so far that at last
he began to think his labor was all in vain; but yet he could not help
going forward till he came to some steep craggy rocks, which were
bounds to his journey, and were situated in a barren country, about four
leagues distant from where he set out.
II
When Prince Ahmed came pretty nigh to these rocks he perceived an arrow,
which he gathered up, looked earnestly at it, and was in the greatest
astonishment to find it was the same he shot away. “Certainly,” said he
to himself, “neither I nor any man living could shoot an arrow so far,”
and, finding it laid flat, not sticking into the ground, he judged that
it rebounded against the rock. “There must be some mystery in this,”
said he to himself again, “and it may be advantageous to me. Perhaps
fortune, to make me amends for depriving me of what I thought the
greatest happiness, may have reserved a greater blessing for my
comfort.”
As these rocks were full of caves and some of those caves were deep, the
Prince entered into one, and, looking about, cast his eyes on an iron
door, which seemed to have no lock, but he feared it was fastened.
However, thrusting against it, it opened, and discovered an easy
descent, but no steps, which he walked down with his arrow in his
hand. At first he thought he was going into a dark, obscure place, but
presently a quite different light succeeded that which he came out of,
and, entering into a large, spacious place, at about fifty or sixty
paces distant, he perceived a magnificent palace, which he had not then
time enough to look at. At the same time a lady of majestic port and air
advanced as far as the porch, attended by a large troop of ladies, so
finely dressed and beautiful that it was difficult to distinguish which
was the mistress.
As soon as Prince Ahmed perceived the lady, he made all imaginable
haste to go and pay his respects; and the lady, on her part, seeing him
coming, prevented him from addressing his discourse to her first, but
said to him: “Come nearer, Prince Ahmed, you are welcome.”
It was no small surprise to the Prince to hear himself named in a place
he had never heard of, though so nigh to his father’s capital, and he
could not comprehend how he should be known to a lady who was a stranger
to him. At last he returned the lady’s compliment by throwing himself at
her feet, and, rising up again, said to her:
“Madam, I return you a thousand thanks for the assurance you give me of
a welcome to a place where I believed my imprudent curiosity had made
me penetrate too far. But, madam, may I, without being guilty of ill
manners, dare to ask you by what adventure you know me? and how you, who
live in the same neighborhood with me, should be so great a stranger to
me?”
“Prince,” said the lady, “let us go into the hall, there I will gratify
you in your request.”
After these words the lady led Prince Ahmed into the hall. Then she sat
down on a sofa, and when the Prince by her entreaty had done the same
she said: “You are surprised, you say, that I should know you and not be
known by you, but you will be no longer surprised when I inform you who
I am. You are undoubtedly sensible that your religion teaches you to
believe that the world is inhabited by genies as well as men. I am the
daughter of one of the most powerful and distinguished genies, and my
name is Paribanou. The only thing that I have to add is, that you seemed
to me worthy of a more happy fate than that of possessing the Princess
Nouronnihar; and, that you might attain to it, I was present when you
drew your arrow, and foresaw it would not go beyond Prince Houssain’s.
I took it in the air, and gave it the necessary motion to strike against
the rocks near which you found it, and I tell you that it lies in your
power to make use of the favorable opportunity which presents itself to
make you happy.”
As the Fairy Paribanou pronounced these last words with a different
tone, and looked, at the same time, tenderly upon Prince Ahmed, with
a modest blush on her cheeks, it was no hard matter for the Prince to
comprehend what happiness she meant. He presently considered that the
Princess Nouronnihar could never be his and that the Fairy Paribanou
excelled her infinitely in beauty, agreeableness, wit, and, as much
as he could conjecture by the magnificence of the palace, in immense
riches. He blessed the moment that he thought of seeking after his arrow
a second time, and, yielding to his love, “Madam,” replied he, “should
I all my life have the happiness of being your slave, and the admirer
of the many charms which ravish my soul, I should think myself the most
blessed of men. Pardon in me the boldness which inspires me to ask this
favor, and don’t refuse to admit me into your Court, a prince who is
entirely devoted to you.”
“Prince,” answered the Fairy, “will you not pledge your faith to me,
as well as I give mine to you?” “Yes, madam,” replied the Prince, in an
ecstacy of joy; “what can I do better, and with greater pleasure?
Yes, my sultaness, my queen, I’ll give you my heart without the least
reserve.” “Then,” answered the Fairy, “you are my husband, and I am
your wife. But, as I suppose,” pursued she, “that you have eaten nothing
to-day, a slight repast shall be served up for you, while preparations
are making for our wedding feast at night, and then I will show you the
apartments of my palace, and you shall judge if this hall is not the
meanest part of it.”
Some of the Fairy’s women, who came into the hall with them, and guessed
her intentions, went immediately out, and returned presently with some
excellent meats and wines.
When Prince Ahmed had ate and drunk as much as he cared for, the Fairy
Paribanou carried him through all the apartments, where he saw diamonds,
rubies, emeralds and all sorts of fine jewels, intermixed with pearls,
agate, jasper, porphyry, and all sorts of the most precious marbles.
But, not to mention the richness of the furniture, which was
inestimable, there was such a profuseness throughout that the Prince,
instead of ever having seen anything like it, owned that he could not
have imagined that there was anything in the world that could come up to
it. “Prince,” said the Fairy, “if you admire my palace so much, which,
indeed, is very beautiful, what would you say to the palaces of the
chief of our genies, which are much more beautiful, spacious, and
magnificent? I could also charm you with my gardens, but we will let
that alone till another time. Night draws near, and it will be time to
go to supper.”
The next hall which the Fairy led the Prince into, and where the cloth
was laid for the feast, was the last apartment the Prince had not seen,
and not in the least inferior to the others. At his entrance into it
he admired the infinite number of sconces of wax candles perfumed with
amber, the multitude of which, instead of being confused, were placed
with so just a symmetry as formed an agreeable and pleasant sight. A
large side table was set out with all sorts of gold plate, so finely
wrought that the workmanship was much more valuable than the weight of
the gold. Several choruses of beautiful women richly dressed, and whose
voices were ravishing, began a concert, accompanied with all sorts of
the most harmonious instruments; and when they were set down at table
the Fairy Paribanou took care to help Prince Ahmed to the most delicate
meats, which she named as she invited him to eat of them, and which
the Prince found to be so exquisitely nice that he commended them with
exaggeration, and said that the entertainment far surpassed those of
man. He found also the same excellence in the wines, which neither he
nor the Fairy tasted of till the dessert was served up, which consisted
of the choicest sweetmeats and fruits.
The wedding feast was continued the next day, or, rather, the days
following the celebration were a continual feast.
At the end of six months Prince Ahmed, who always loved and honored the
Sultan his father, conceived a great desire to know how he was, and
that desire could not be satisfied without his going to see; he told the
Fairy of it, and desired she would give him leave.
“Prince,” said she, “go when you please. But first, don’t take it amiss
that I give you some advice how you shall behave yourself where you are
going. First, I don’t think it proper for you to tell the Sultan your
father of our marriage, nor of my quality, nor the place where you have
been. Beg of him to be satisfied in knowing you are happy, and desire
no more; and let him know that the sole end of your visit is to make him
easy, and inform him of your fate.”
She appointed twenty gentlemen, well mounted and equipped, to attend
him. When all was ready Prince Ahmed took his leave of the Fairy,
embraced her, and renewed his promise to return soon. Then his horse,
which was most finely caparisoned, and was as beautiful a creature as
any in the Sultan of Indies’ stables, was led to him, and he mounted him
with an extraordinary grace; and, after he had bid her a last adieu, set
forward on his journey.
As it was not a great way to his father’s capital, Prince Ahmed soon
arrived there. The people, glad to see him again, received him with
acclamations of joy, and followed him in crowds to the Sultan’s
apartment. The Sultan received and embraced him with great joy,
complaining at the same time, with a fatherly tenderness, of the
affliction his long absence had been to him, which he said was the more
grievous for that, fortune having decided in favor of Prince Ali his
brother, he was afraid he might have committed some rash action.
The Prince told a story of his adventures without speaking of the Fairy,
whom he said that he must not mention, and ended: “The only favor I
ask of your Majesty is to give me leave to come often and pay you my
respects, and to know how you do.”
“Son,” answered the Sultan of the Indies, “I cannot refuse you the leave
you ask me; but I should much rather you would resolve to stay with me;
at least tell me where I may send to you if you should fail to come, or
when I may think your presence necessary.” “Sir,” replied Prince Ahmed,
“what your Majesty asks of me is part of the mystery I spoke to your
Majesty of. I beg of you to give me leave to remain silent on this head,
for I shall come so frequently that I am afraid that I shall sooner be
thought troublesome than be accused of negligence in my duty.”
The Sultan of the Indies pressed Prince Ahmed no more, but said to him:
“Son, I penetrate no farther into your secrets, but leave you at your
liberty; but can tell you that you could not do me a greater pleasure
than to come, and by your presence restore to me the joy I have not
felt this long time, and that you shall always be welcome when you come,
without interrupting your business or pleasure.”
Prince Ahmed stayed but three days at the Sultan his father’s Court, and
the fourth returned to the Fairy Paribanou, who did not expect him so
soon.
A month after Prince Ahmed’s return from paying a visit to his father,
as the Fairy Paribanou had observed that the Prince, since the time that
he gave her an account of his journey, his discourse with his father,
and the leave he asked to go and see him often, had never talked of the
Sultan, as if there had been no such person in the world, whereas before
he was always speaking of him, she thought he forebore on her account;
therefore she took an opportunity to say to him one day: “Prince, tell
me, have you forgot the Sultan your father? Don’t you remember the
promise you made to go and see him often? For my part I have not forgot
what you told me at your return, and so put you in mind of it, that you
may not be long before you acquit yourself of your promise.”
So Prince Ahmed went the next morning with the same attendance as
before, but much finer, and himself more magnificently mounted,
equipped, and dressed, and was received by the Sultan with the same
joy and satisfaction. For several months he constantly paid his visits,
always in a richer and finer equipage.
At last some viziers, the Sultan’s favorites, who judged of Prince
Ahmed’s grandeur and power by the figure he cut, made the Sultan jealous
of his son, saying it was to be feared he might inveigle himself into
the people’s favor and dethrone him.
The Sultan of the Indies was so far from thinking that Prince Ahmed
could be capable of so pernicious a design as his favorites would make
him believe that he said to them: “You are mistaken; my son loves me,
and I am certain of his tenderness and fidelity, as I have given him no
reason to be disgusted.”
But the favorites went on abusing Prince Ahmed till the Sultan said: “Be
it as it will, I don’t believe my son Ahmed is so wicked as you would
persuade me he is; how ever, I am obliged to you for your good advice,
and don’t dispute but that it proceeds from your good intentions.”
The Sultan of the Indies said this that his favorites might not know the
impressions their discourse had made on his mind; which had so alarmed
him that he resolved to have Prince Ahmed watched unknown to his grand
vizier. So he sent for a female magician, who was introduced by a back
door into his apartment. “Go immediately,” he said, “and follow my son,
and watch him so well as to find out where he retires, and bring me
word.”
The magician left the Sultan, and, knowing the place where Prince Ahmed
found his arrow, went immediately thither, and hid herself near the
rocks, so that nobody could see her.
The next morning Prince Ahmed set out by daybreak, without taking leave
either of the Sultan or any of his Court, according to custom. The
magician, seeing him coming, followed him with her eyes, till on a
sudden she lost sight of him and his attendants.
As the rocks were very steep and craggy, they were an insurmountable
barrier, so that the magician judged that there were but two things
for it: either that the Prince retired into some cavern, or an abode of
genies or fairies. Thereupon she came out of the place where she was hid
and went directly to the hollow way, which she traced till she came
to the farther end, looking carefully about on all sides; but,
notwithstanding all her diligence, could perceive no opening, not so
much as the iron gate which Prince Ahmed discovered, which was to be
seen and opened to none but men, and only to such whose presence was
agreeable to the Fairy Paribanou.
The magician, who saw it was in vain for her to search any farther, was
obliged to be satisfied with the discovery she had made, and returned to
give the Sultan an account.
The Sultan was very well pleased with the magician’s conduct, and said
to her: “Do you as you think fit; I’ll wait patiently the event of your
promises,” and to encourage her made her a present of a diamond of great
value.
As Prince Ahmed had obtained the Fairy Paribanou’s leave to go to the
Sultan of the Indies’ Court once a month, he never failed, and the
magician, knowing the time, went a day or two before to the foot of the
rock where she lost sight of the Prince and his attendants, and waited
there.
The next morning Prince Ahmed went out, as usual, at the iron gate, with
the same attendants as before, and passed by the magician, whom he knew
not to be such, and, seeing her lie with her head against the rock,
and complaining as if she were in great pain, he pitied her, turned his
horse about, went to her, and asked her what was the matter with her,
and what he could do to ease her.
The artful sorceress looked at the Prince in a pitiful manner, without
ever lifting up her head, and answered in broken words and sighs, as
if she could hardly fetch her breath, that she was going to the capital
city, but on the way thither she was taken with so violent a fever that
her strength failed her, and she was forced to lie down where he saw
her, far from any habitation, and without any hopes of assistance.
“Good woman,” replied Prince Ahmed, “you are not so far from help as you
imagine. I am ready to assist you, and convey you where you will meet
with a speedy cure; only get up, and let one of my people take you
behind him.”
At these words the magician, who pretended sickness only to know where
the Prince lived and what he did, refused not the charitable offer he
made her, and that her actions might correspond with her words she made
many pretended vain endeavors to get up. At the same time two of the
Prince’s attendants, alighting off their horses, helped her up, and set
her behind another, and mounted their horses again, and followed the
Prince, who turned back to the iron gate, which was opened by one of his
retinue who rode before. And when he came into the outward court of the
Fairy, without dismounting himself, he sent to tell her he wanted to
speak with her.
The Fairy Paribanou came with all imaginable haste, not knowing what
made Prince Ahmed return so soon, who, not giving her time to ask him
the reason, said: “Princess, I desire you would have compassion on this
good woman,” pointing to the magician, who was held up by two of his
retinue. “I found her in the condition you see her in, and promised her
the assistance she stands in need of, and am persuaded that you, out of
your own goodness, as well as upon my entreaty, will not abandon her.”
The Fairy Paribanou, who had her eyes fixed upon the pretended sick
woman all the time that the Prince was talking to her, ordered two of
her women who followed her to take her from the two men that held her,
and carry her into an apartment of the palace, and take as much care of
her as she would herself.
While the two women executed the Fairy’s commands, she went up to Prince
Ahmed, and, whispering in his ear, said: “Prince, this woman is not so
sick as she pretends to be; and I am very much mistaken if she is not an
impostor, who will be the cause of a great trouble to you. But don’t
be concerned, let what will be devised against you; be persuaded that
I will deliver you out of all the snares that shall be laid for you. Go
and pursue your journey.”
This discourse of the Fairy’s did not in the least frighten Prince
Ahmed. “My Princess,” said he, “as I do not remember I ever did or
designed anybody an injury, I cannot believe anybody can have a thought
of doing me one, but if they have I shall not, nevertheless, forbear
doing good whenever I have an opportunity.” Then he went back to his
father’s palace.
In the meantime the two women carried the magician into a very fine
apartment, richly furnished. First they sat her down upon a sofa, with
her back supported with a cushion of gold brocade, while they made a bed
on the same sofa before her, the quilt of which was finely embroidered
with silk, the sheets of the finest linen, and the coverlet
cloth-of-gold. When they had put her into bed (for the old sorceress
pretended that her fever was so violent she could not help herself in
the least) one of the women went out, and returned soon again with a
china dish in her hand, full of a certain liquor, which she presented to
the magician, while the other helped her to sit up. “Drink this liquor,”
said she; “it is the Water of the Fountain of Lions, and a sovereign
remedy against all fevers whatsoever. You will find the effect of it in
less than an hour’s time.”
The magician, to dissemble the better, took it after a great deal of
entreaty; but at last she took the china dish, and, holding back her
head, swallowed down the liquor. When she was laid down again the two
women covered her up. “Lie quiet,” said she who brought her the china
cup, “and get a little sleep if you can. We’ll leave you, and hope to
find you perfectly cured when we come again an hour hence.”
The two women came again at the time they said they should, and found
the magician up and dressed, and sitting upon the sofa. “Oh, admirable
potion!” she said: “it has wrought its cure much sooner than you told me
it would, and I shall be able to prosecute my journey.”
The two women, who were fairies as well as their mistress, after they
had told the magician how glad they were that she was cured so soon,
walked before her, and conducted her through several apartments, all
more noble than that wherein she lay, into a large hall, the most richly
and magnificently furnished of all the palace.
Fairy Paribanou sat in this hall on a throne of massive gold, enriched
with diamonds, rubies, and pearls of an extraordinary size, and attended
on each hand by a great number of beautiful fairies, all richly clothed.
At the sight of so much majesty, the magician was not only dazzled, but
was so amazed that, after she had prostrated herself before the throne,
she could not open her lips to thank the Fairy as she proposed. However,
Paribanou saved her the trouble, and said to her: “Good woman, I am glad
I had an opportunity to oblige you, and to see you are able to pursue
your journey. I won’t detain you, but perhaps you may not be displeased
to see my palace; follow my women, and they will show it you.”
Then the magician went back and related to the Sultan of the Indies all
that had happened, and how very rich Prince Ahmed was since his marriage
with the Fairy, richer than all the kings in the world, and how there
was danger that he should come and take the throne from his father.
Though the Sultan of the Indies was very well persuaded that Prince
Ahmed’s natural disposition was good, yet he could not help being
concerned at the discourse of the old sorceress, to whom, when she was
taking her leave, he said: “I thank thee for the pains thou hast taken,
and thy wholesome advice. I am so sensible of the great importance it is
to me that I shall deliberate upon it in council.”
Now the favorites advised that the Prince should be killed, but the
magician advised differently: “Make him give you all kinds of wonderful
things, by the Fairy’s help, till she tires of him and sends him away.
As, for example, every time your Majesty goes into the field, you are
obliged to be at a great expense, not only in pavilions and tents for
your army, but likewise in mules and camels to carry their baggage. Now,
might not you engage him to use his interest with the Fairy to procure
you a tent which might be carried in a man’s hand, and which should be
so large as to shelter your whole army against bad weather?”
When the magician had finished her speech, the Sultan asked his
favorites if they had anything better to propose; and, finding them
all silent, determined to follow the magician’s advice, as the most
reasonable and most agreeable to his mild government.
Next day the Sultan did as the magician had advised him, and asked for
the pavilion.
Prince Ahmed never expected that the Sultan his father would have
asked such a thing, which at first appeared so difficult, not to say
impossible. Though he knew not absolutely how great the power of genies
and fairies was, he doubted whether it extended so far as to compass
such a tent as his father desired. At last he replied: “Though it is
with the greatest reluctance imaginable, I will not fail to ask the
favor of my wife your Majesty desires, but will not promise you to
obtain it; and if I should not have the honor to come again to pay you
my respects that shall be the sign that I have not had success. But
beforehand, I desire you to forgive me, and consider that you yourself
have reduced me to this extremity.”
“Son,” replied the Sultan of the Indies, “I should be very sorry if what
I ask of you should cause me the displeasure of never seeing you more. I
find you don’t know the power a husband has over a wife; and yours would
show that her love to you was very indifferent if she, with the power
she has of a fairy, should refuse you so trifling a request as this I
desire you to ask of her for my sake.” The Prince went back, and was
very sad for fear of offending the Fairy. She kept pressing him to
tell her what was the matter, and at last he said: “Madam, you may have
observed that hitherto I have been content with your love, and have
never asked you any other favor. Consider then, I conjure you, that
it is not I, but the Sultan my father, who indiscreetly, or at least I
think so, begs of you a pavilion large enough to shelter him, his Court,
and army from the violence of the weather, and which a man may carry in
his hand. But remember it is the Sultan my father asks this favor.”
“Prince,” replied the Fairy, smiling, “I am sorry that so small a matter
should disturb you, and make you so uneasy as you appeared to me.”
Then the Fairy sent for her treasurer, to whom, when she came, she said:
“Nourgihan”--which was her name--“bring me the largest pavilion in my
treasury.” Nourgiham returned presently with the pavilion, which she
could not only hold in her hand, but in the palm of her hand when she
shut her fingers, and presented it to her mistress, who gave it to
Prince Ahmed to look at.
When Prince Ahmed saw the pavilion which the Fairy called the largest in
her treasury, he fancied she had a mind to jest with him, and thereupon
the marks of his surprise appeared presently in his countenance; which
Paribanou perceiving burst out laughing. “What! Prince,” cried she, “do
you think I jest with you? You’ll see presently that I am in earnest.
Nourgihan,” said she to her treasurer, taking the tent out of Prince
Ahmed’s hands, “go and set it up, that the Prince may judge whether it
may be large enough for the Sultan his father.”
The treasurer went immediately with it out of the palace, and carried it
a great way off; and when she had set it up one end reached to the very
palace; at which time the Prince, thinking it small, found it large
enough to shelter two greater armies than that of the Sultan his
father’s, and then said to Paribanou: “I ask my Princess a thousand
pardons for my incredulity; after what I have seen I believe there
is nothing impossible to you.” “You see,” said the Fairy, “that the
pavilion is larger than what your father may have occasion for; for
you must know that it has one property--that it is larger or smaller
according to the army it is to cover.”
The treasurer took down the tent again, and brought it to the Prince,
who took it, and, without staying any longer than till the next day,
mounted his horse, and went with the same attendants to the Sultan his
father.
The Sultan, who was persuaded that there could not be any such thing
as such a tent as he asked for, was in a great surprise at the Prince’s
diligence. He took the tent and after he had admired its smallness his
amazement was so great that he could not recover himself. When the tent
was set up in the great plain, which we have before mentioned, he found
it large enough to shelter an army twice as large as he could bring into
the field.
But the Sultan was not yet satisfied. “Son,” said he, “I have already
expressed to you how much I am obliged to you for the present of the
tent you have procured me; that I look upon it as the most valuable
thing in all my treasury. But you must do one thing more for me, which
will be every whit as agreeable to me. I am informed that the Fairy,
your spouse, makes use of a certain water, called the Water of the
Fountain of Lions, which cures all sorts of fevers, even the most
dangerous, and, as I am perfectly well persuaded my health is dear to
you, I don’t doubt but you will ask her for a bottle of that water for
me, and bring it me as a sovereign medicine, which I may make use of
when I have occasion. Do me this other important piece of service, and
thereby complete the duty of a good son toward a tender father.”
The Prince returned and told the Fairy what his father had said;
“There’s a great deal of wickedness in this demand?” she answered, “as
you will understand by what I am going to tell you. The Fountain of
Lions is situated in the middle of a court of a great castle, the
entrance into which is guarded by four fierce lions, two of which sleep
alternately, while the other two are awake. But don’t let that frighten
you: I’ll give you means to pass by them without any danger.”
The Fairy Paribanou was at that time very hard at work, and, as she had
several clews of thread by her, she took up one, and, presenting it
to Prince Ahmed, said: “First take this clew of thread. I’ll tell you
presently the use of it. In the second place, you must have two horses;
one you must ride yourself, and the other you must lead, which must be
loaded with a sheep cut into four quarters, that must be killed to-day.
In the third place, you must be provided with a bottle, which I will
give you, to bring the water in. Set out early to-morrow morning, and
when you have passed the iron gate throw the clew of thread before you,
which will roll till it comes to the gates of the castle. Follow it, and
when it stops, as the gates will be open, you will see the four lions:
the two that are awake will, by their roaring, wake the other two, but
don’t be frightened, but throw each of them a quarter of mutton, and
then clap spurs to your horse and ride to the fountain; fill your bottle
without alighting, and then return with the same expedition. The lions
will be so busy eating they will let you pass by them.”
Prince Ahmed set out the next morning at the time appointed by the
Fairy, and followed her directions exactly. When he arrived at the
gates of the castle he distributed the quarters of mutton among the
four lions, and, passing through the midst of them bravely, got to the
fountain, filled his bottle, and returned back as safe and sound as he
went. When he had gone a little distance from the castle gates he turned
him about, and, perceiving two of the lions coming after him, he drew
his sabre and prepared himself for defense. But as he went forward he
saw one of them turned out of the road at some distance, and showed by
his head and tail that he did not come to do him any harm, but only to
go before him, and that the other stayed behind to follow, he put his
sword up again in its scabbard. Guarded in this manner, he arrived at
the capital of the Indies, but the lions never left him till they had
conducted him to the gates of the Sultan’s palace; after which they
returned the same way they came, though not without frightening all
that saw them, for all they went in a very gentle manner and showed no
fierceness.
A great many officers came to attend the Prince while he dismounted his
horse, and afterward conducted him into the Sultan’s apartment, who was
at that time surrounded with his favorites. He approached toward the
throne, laid the bottle at the Sultan’s feet, and kissed the rich
tapestry which covered his footstool, and then said:
“I have brought you, sir, the healthful water which your Majesty desired
so much to keep among your other rarities in your treasury, but at the
same time wish you such extraordinary health as never to have occasion
to make use of it.”
After the Prince had made an end of his compliment the Sultan placed him
on his right hand, and then said to him: “Son, I am very much obliged
to you for this valuable present, as also for the great danger you have
exposed yourself to upon my account (which I have been informed of by
a magician who knows the Fountain of Lions); but do me the pleasure,”
continued he, “to inform me by what address, or, rather, by what
incredible power, you have been secured.”
“Sir,” replied Prince Ahmed, “I have no share in the compliment your
Majesty is pleased to make me; all the honor is due to the Fairy my
spouse, whose good advice I followed.” Then he informed the Sultan what
those directions were, and by the relation of this his expedition let
him know how well he had behaved himself. When he had done the Sultan,
who showed outwardly all the demonstrations of great joy, but secretly
became more jealous, retired into an inward apartment, where he sent for
the magician.
The magician, at her arrival, saved the Sultan the trouble to tell her
of the success of Prince Ahmed’s journey, which she had heard of before
she came, and therefore was prepared with an infallible means, as she
pretended. This means she communicated to the Sultan who declared it
the next day to the Prince, in the midst of all his courtiers, in these
words: “Son,” said he, “I have one thing more to ask of you, after which
I shall expect nothing more from your obedience, nor your interest with
your wife. This request is, to bring me a man not above a foot and a
half high, and whose beard is thirty feet long who carries a bar of
iron upon his shoulders of five hundredweight, which he uses as a
quarterstaff.”
Prince Ahmed, who did not believe that there was such a man in the world
as his father described, would gladly have excused himself; but the
Sultan persisted in his demand, and told him the Fairy could do more
incredible things.
The next day the Prince returned to his dear Paribanou, to whom he told
his father’s new demand, which, he said, he looked upon to be a thing
more impossible than the two first; “for,” added he, “I cannot imagine
there can be such a man in the world; without doubt, he has a mind to
try whether or no I am so silly as to go about it, or he has a design on
my ruin. In short, how can he suppose that I should lay hold of a man
so well armed, though he is but little? What arms can I make use of to
reduce him to my will? If there are any means, I beg you will tell them,
and let me come off with honor this time.”
“Don’t affright yourself, Prince,” replied the Fairy; “you ran a risk in
fetching the Water of the Fountain of Lions for your father, but there’s
no danger in finding out this man, who is my brother Schaibar, but is so
far from being like me, though we both had the same father, that he is
of so violent a nature that nothing can prevent his giving cruel marks
of his resentment for a slight offense; yet, on the other hand, is so
good as to oblige anyone in whatever they desire. He is made exactly as
the Sultan your father has described him, and has no other arms than a
bar of iron of five hundred pounds weight, without which he never stirs,
and which makes him respected. I’ll send for him, and you shall judge
of the truth of what I tell you; but be sure to prepare yourself against
being frightened at his extraordinary figure when you see him.” “What!
my Queen,” replied Prince Ahmed, “do you say Schaibar is your brother?
Let him be never so ugly or deformed I shall be so far from being
frightened at the sight of him that, as our brother, I shall honor and
love him.”
The Fairy ordered a gold chafing-dish to be set with a fire in it under
the porch of her palace, with a box of the same metal, which was a
present to her, out of which taking a perfume, and throwing it into the
fire, there arose a thick cloud of smoke.
Some moments after the Fairy said to Prince Ahmed: “See, there comes my
brother.” The Prince immediately perceived Schaibar coming gravely with
his heavy bar on his shoulder, his long beard, which he held up before
him, and a pair of thick mustachios, which he tucked behind his ears and
almost covered his face; his eyes were very small and deep-set in his
head, which was far from being of the smallest size, and on his head he
wore a grenadier’s cap; besides all this, he was very much hump-backed.
If Prince Ahmed had not known that Schaibar was Paribanou’s brother,
he would not have been able to have looked at him without fear, but,
knowing first who he was, he stood by the Fairy without the least
concern.
Schaibar, as he came forward, looked at the Prince earnestly enough to
have chilled his blood in his veins, and asked Paribanou, when he first
accosted her, who that man was. To which she replied: “He is my husband,
brother. His name is Ahmed; he is son to the Sultan of the Indies. The
reason why I did not invite you to my wedding was I was unwilling to
divert you from an expedition you were engaged in, and from which I
heard with pleasure you returned victorious, and so took the liberty now
to call for you.”
At these words, Schaibar, looking on Prince Ahmed favorably, said: “Is
there anything else, sister, wherein I can serve him? It is enough
for me that he is your husband to engage me to do for him whatever he
desires.” “The Sultan, his father,” replied Paribanou, “has a curiosity
to see you, and I desire he may be your guide to the Sultan’s Court.”
“He needs but lead me the way I’ll follow him.” “Brother,” replied
Paribanou, “it is too late to go to-day, therefore stay till to-morrow
morning; and in the meantime I’ll inform you of all that has passed
between the Sultan of the Indies and Prince Ahmed since our marriage.”
The next morning, after Schaibar had been informed of the affair, he and
Prince Ahmed set out for the Sultan’s Court. When they arrived at the
gates of the capital the people no sooner saw Schaibar but they ran and
hid themselves; and some shut up their shops and locked themselves up in
their houses, while others, flying, communicated their fear to all they
met, who stayed not to look behind them, but ran too; insomuch that
Schaibar and Prince Ahmed, as they went along, found the streets all
desolate till they came to the palaces where the porters, instead
of keeping the gates, ran away too, so that the Prince and Schaibar
advanced without any obstacle to the council-hall, where the Sultan was
seated on his throne, and giving audience. Here likewise the ushers,
at the approach of Schaibar, abandoned their posts, and gave them free
admittance.
Schaibar went boldly and fiercely up to the throne, without waiting to
be presented by Prince Ahmed, and accosted the Sultan of the Indies in
these words: “Thou hast asked for me,” said he; “see, here I am; what
wouldst thou have with me?”
The Sultan, instead of answering him, clapped his hands before his eyes
to avoid the sight of so terrible an object; at which uncivil and rude
reception Schaibar was so much provoked, after he had given him the
trouble to come so far, that he instantly lifted up his iron bar and
killed him before Prince Ahmed could intercede in his behalf. All that
he could do was to prevent his killing the grand vizier, who sat not far
from him, representing to him that he had always given the Sultan his
father good advice. “These are they, then,” said Schaibar, “who gave him
bad,” and as he pronounced these words he killed all the other viziers
and flattering favorites of the Sultan who were Prince Ahmed’s enemies.
Every time he struck he killed some one or other, and none escaped but
they who were not so frightened as to stand staring and gaping, and who
saved themselves by flight.
When this terrible execution was over Schaibar came out of the
council-hall into the midst of the courtyard with the iron bar upon his
shoulder, and, looking hard at the grand vizier, who owed his life to
Prince Ahmed, he said: “I know here is a certain magician, who is a
greater enemy of my brother-in-law than all these base favorites I
have chastised. Let the magician be brought to me presently.” The grand
vizier immediately sent for her, and as soon as she was brought Schaibar
said, at the time he fetched a stroke at her with his iron bar: “Take
the reward of thy pernicious counsel, and learn to feign sickness
again.”
After this he said: “This is not yet enough; I will use the whole town
after the same manner if they do not immediately acknowledge Prince
Ahmed, my brother-in-law, for their Sultan and the Sultan of the
Indies.” Then all that were there present made the air echo again
with the repeated acclamations of: “Long life to Sultan Ahmed”; and
immediately after he was proclaimed through the whole town. Schaibar
made him be clothed in the royal vestments, installed him on the throne,
and after he had caused all to swear homage and fidelity to him went
and fetched his sister Paribanou, whom he brought with all the pomp and
grandeur imaginable, and made her to be owned Sultaness of the Indies.
As for Prince Ali and Princess Nouronnihar, as they had no hand in the
conspiracy against Prince Ahmed and knew nothing of any, Prince Ahmed
assigned them a considerable province, with its capital, where they
spent the rest of their lives. Afterwards he sent an officer to Prince
Houssain to acquaint him with the change and make him an offer of which
province he liked best; but that Prince thought himself so happy in his
solitude that he bade the officer return the Sultan his brother thanks
for the kindness he designed him, assuring him of his submission; and
that the only favor he desired of him was to give him leave to live
retired in the place he had made choice of for his retreat.(1)
(1) Arabian Nights.
THE HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLER
In the reign of the famous King Arthur there lived in Cornwall a lad
named Jack, who was a boy of a bold temper, and took delight in hearing
or reading of conjurers, giants, and fairies; and used to listen eagerly
to the deeds of the knights of King Arthur’s Round Table.
In those days there lived on St. Michael’s Mount, off Cornwall, a huge
giant, eighteen feet high and nine feet round; his fierce and savage
looks were the terror of all who beheld him.
He dwelt in a gloomy cavern on the top of the mountain, and used to wade
over to the mainland in search of prey; when he would throw half a dozen
oxen upon his back, and tie three times as many sheep and hogs round his
waist, and march back to his own abode.
The giant had done this for many years when Jack resolved to destroy
him.
Jack took a horn, a shovel, a pickaxe, his armor, and a dark lantern,
and one winter’s evening he went to the mount. There he dug a pit
twenty-two feet deep and twenty broad. He covered the top over so as to
make it look like solid ground. He then blew his horn so loudly that the
giant awoke and came out of his den crying out: “You saucy villain! you
shall pay for this I’ll broil you for my breakfast!”
He had just finished, when, taking one step further, he tumbled headlong
into the pit, and Jack struck him a blow on the head with his pickaxe
which killed him. Jack then returned home to cheer his friends with the
news.
Another giant, called Blunderbore, vowed to be revenged on Jack if ever
he should have him in his power. This giant kept an enchanted castle in
the midst of a lonely wood; and some time after the death of Cormoran
Jack was passing through a wood, and being weary, sat down and went to
sleep.
The giant, passing by and seeing Jack, carried him to his castle, where
he locked him up in a large room, the floor of which was covered with
the bodies, skulls and bones of men and women.
Soon after the giant went to fetch his brother who was likewise a giant,
to take a meal off his flesh; and Jack saw with terror through the bars
of his prison the two giants approaching.
Jack, perceiving in one corner of the room a strong cord, took courage,
and making a slip-knot at each end, he threw them over their heads, and
tied it to the window-bars; he then pulled till he had choked them. When
they were black in the face he slid down the rope and stabbed them to
the heart.
Jack next took a great bunch of keys from the pocket of Blunderbore,
and went into the castle again. He made a strict search through all
the rooms, and in one of them found three ladies tied up by the hair
of their heads, and almost starved to death. They told him that their
husbands had been killed by the giants, who had then condemned them to
be starved to death because they would not eat the flesh of their own
dead husbands.
“Ladies,” said Jack, “I have put an end to the monster and his wicked
brother; and I give you this castle and all the riches it contains, to
make some amends for the dreadful pains you have felt.” He then very
politely gave them the keys of the castle, and went further on his
journey to Wales.
As Jack had but little money, he went on as fast as possible. At length
he came to a handsome house. Jack knocked at the door, when there came
forth a Welsh giant. Jack said he was a traveler who had lost his way,
on which the giant made him welcome, and let him into a room where there
was a good bed to sleep in.
Jack took off his clothes quickly, but though he was weary he could not
go to sleep. Soon after this he heard the giant walking backward and
forward in the next room, and saying to himself:
“Though here you lodge with me this night,
You shall not see the morning light;
My club shall dash your brains out quite.”
“Say you so?” thought Jack. “Are these your tricks upon travelers? But
I hope to prove as cunning as you are.” Then, getting out of bed, he
groped about the room, and at last found a large thick billet of wood.
He laid it in his own place in the bed, and then hid himself in a dark
corner of the room.
The giant, about midnight, entered the apartment, and with his bludgeon
struck many blows on the bed, in the very place where Jack had laid the
log; and then he went back to his own room, thinking he had broken all
Jack’s bones.
Early in the morning Jack put a bold face upon the matter, and walked
into the giant’s room to thank him for his lodging. The giant started
when he saw him, and began to stammer out: “Oh! dear me; is it you? Pray
how did you sleep last night? Did you hear or see anything in the dead
of the night?”
“Nothing to speak of,” said Jack, carelessly; “a rat, I believe, gave me
three or four slaps with its tail, and disturbed me a little; but I soon
went to sleep again.”
The giant wondered more and more at this; yet he did not answer a word,
but went to bring two great bowls of hasty-pudding for their breakfast.
Jack wanted to make the giant believe that he could eat as much as
himself, so he contrived to button a leathern bag inside his coat, and
slip the hasty-pudding into this bag, while he seemed to put it into his
mouth.
When breakfast was over he said to the giant: “Now I will show you a
fine trick. I can cure all wounds with a touch; I could cut off my head
in one minute, and the next put it sound again on my shoulders. You
shall see an example.” He then took hold of the knife, ripped up the
leathern bag, and all the hasty-pudding tumbled out upon the floor.
“Ods splutter hur nails!” cried the Welsh giant, who was ashamed to be
outdone by such a little fellow as Jack, “hur can do that hurself”;
so he snatched up the knife, plunged it into his own stomach, and in a
moment dropped down dead.
Jack, having hitherto been successful in all his undertakings, resolved
not to be idle in future; he therefore furnished himself with a horse,
a cap of knowledge, a sword of sharpness, shoes of swiftness, and an
invisible coat, the better to perform the wonderful enterprises that lay
before him.
He traveled over high hills, and on the third day he came to a large and
spacious forest through which his road lay. Scarcely had he entered the
forest when he beheld a monstrous giant dragging along by the hair
of their heads a handsome knight and his lady. Jack alighted from his
horse, and tying him to an oak tree, put on his invisible coat, under
which he carried his sword of sharpness.
When he came up to the giant he made several strokes at him, but could
not reach his body, but wounded his thighs in several places; and at
length, putting both hands to his sword and aiming with all his might,
he cut off both his legs. Then Jack, setting his foot upon his neck,
plunged his sword into the giant’s body, when the monster gave a groan
and expired.
The knight and his lady thanked Jack for their deliverance, and invited
him to their house, to receive a proper reward for his services. “No,”
said Jack, “I cannot be easy till I find out this monster’s habitation.”
So, taking the knight’s directions, he mounted his horse and soon after
came in sight of another giant, who was sitting on a block of timber
waiting for his brother’s return.
Jack alighted from his horse, and, putting on his invisible coat,
approached and aimed a blow at the giant’s head, but, missing his aim,
he only cut off his nose. On this the giant seized his club and laid
about him most unmercifully.
“Nay,” said Jack, “if this be the case I’d better dispatch you!” so,
jumping upon the block, he stabbed him in the back, when he dropped down
dead.
Jack then proceeded on his journey, and traveled over hills and dales,
till arriving at the foot of a high mountain he knocked at the door of a
lonely house, when an old man let him in.
When Jack was seated the hermit thus addressed him: “My son, on the top
of this mountain is an enchanted castle, kept by the giant Galligantus
and a vile magician. I lament the fate of a duke’s daughter, whom they
seized as she was walking in her father’s garden, and brought hither
transformed into a deer.”
Jack promised that in the morning, at the risk of his life, he would
break the enchantment; and after a sound sleep he rose early, put on his
invisible coat, and got ready for the attempt.
When he had climbed to the top of the mountain he saw two fiery
griffins, but he passed between them without the least fear of danger,
for they could not see him because of his invisible coat. On the castle
gate he found a golden trumpet, under which were written these lines:
“Whoever can this trumpet blow
Shall cause the giant’s overthrow.”
As soon as Jack had read this he seized the trumpet and blew a shrill
blast, which made the gates fly open and the very castle itself tremble.
The giant and the conjurer now knew that their wicked course was at an
end, and they stood biting their thumbs and shaking with fear. Jack,
with his sword of sharpness, soon killed the giant, and the magician was
then carried away by a whirlwind; and every knight and beautiful lady
who had been changed into birds and beasts returned to their proper
shapes. The castle vanished away like smoke, and the head of the giant
Galligantus was then sent to King Arthur.
The knights and ladies rested that night at the old man’s hermitage, and
next day they set out for the Court. Jack then went up to the King, and
gave his Majesty an account of all his fierce battles.
Jack’s fame had now spread through the whole country, and at the King’s
desire the duke gave him his daughter in marriage, to the joy of all his
kingdom. After this the King gave him a large estate, on which he and
his lady lived the rest of their days in joy and contentment.(1)
(1) Old Chapbook.
THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY
And many a hunting song they sung,
And song of game and glee;
Then tuned to plaintive strains their tongue,
“Of Scotland’s luve and lee.”
To wilder measures next they turn
“The Black, Black Bull of Norroway!”
Sudden the tapers cease to burn,
The minstrels cease to play.
“The Cout of Keeldar,” by J. Leyden.
In Norroway, langsyne, there lived a certain lady, and she had three
dochters. The auldest o’ them said to her mither: “Mither, bake me a
bannock, and roast me a collop, for I’m gaun awa’ to seek my fortune.”
Her mither did sae; and the dochter gaed awa’ to an auld witch
washerwife and telled her purpose. The auld wife bade her stay that day,
and gang and look out o’ her back door, and see what she could see. She
saw nocht the first day. The second day she did the same, and saw nocht.
On the third day she looked again, and saw a coach-and-six coming along
the road. She ran in and telled the auld wife what she saw. “Aweel,”
quo’ the auld wife, “yon’s for you.” Sae they took her into the coach,
and galloped aff.
The second dochter next says to her mither: “Mither, bake me a bannock,
and roast me a collop, fur I’m gaun awa’ to seek my fortune.” Her mither
did sae; and awa’ she gaed to the auld wife, as her sister had dune. On
the third day she looked out o’ the back door, and saw a coach-and-four
coming along the road. “Aweel,” quo’ the auld wife, “yon’s for you.” Sae
they took her in, and aff they set.
The third dochter says to her mither: “Mither, bake me a bannock, and
roast me a collop, for I’m gaun awa’ to seek my fortune.” Her mither did
sae; and awa’ she gaed to the auld witch-wife. She bade her look out
o’ her back door, and see what she could see. She did sae; and when she
came back said she saw nocht. The second day she did the same, and saw
nocht. The third day she looked again, and on coming back said to the
auld wife she saw nocht but a muckle Black Bull coming roaring alang the
road. “Aweel,” quo’ the auld wife, “yon’s for you.” On hearing this she
was next to distracted wi’ grief and terror; but she was lifted up and
set on his back, and awa’ they went.
Aye they traveled, and on they traveled, till the lady grew faint wi’
hunger. “Eat out o’ my right lug,” says the Black Bull, “and drink out
o’ my left lug, and set by your leavings.” Sae she did as he said, and
was wonderfully refreshed. And lang they gaed, and sair they rade, till
they came in sight o’ a very big and bonny castle. “Yonder we maun be
this night,” quo’ the bull; “for my auld brither lives yonder”; and
presently they were at the place. They lifted her aff his back, and took
her in, and sent him away to a park for the night. In the morning,
when they brought the bull hame, they took the lady into a fine shining
parlor, and gave her a beautiful apple, telling her no to break it till
she was in the greatest strait ever mortal was in in the world, and that
wad bring her o’t. Again she was lifted on the bull’s back, and after
she had ridden far, and farer than I can tell, they came in sight o’ a
far bonnier castle, and far farther awa’ than the last. Says the bull
till her: “Yonder we maun be the night, for my second brither lives
yonder”; and they were at the place directly. They lifted her down
and took her in, and sent the bull to the field for the night. In the
morning they took the lady into a fine and rich room, and gave her the
finest pear she had ever seen, bidding her no to break it till she was
in the greatest strait ever mortal could be in, and that wad get her out
o’t. Again she was lifted and set on his back, and awa’ they went. And
lang they gaed, and sair they rade, till they came in sight o’ the far
biggest castle, and far farthest aff, they had yet seen. “We maun be
yonder the night,” says the bull, “for my young brither lives yonder”;
and they were there directly. They lifted her down, took her in, and
sent the bull to the field for the night. In the morning they took her
into a room, the finest of a’, and gied her a plum, telling her no to
break it till she was in the greatest strait mortal could be in, and
that wad get her out o’t. Presently they brought hame the bull, set the
lady on his back, and awa’ they went.
And aye they gaed, and on they rade, till they came to a dark and ugsome
glen, where they stopped, and the lady lighted down. Says the bull to
her: “Here ye maun stay till I gang and fight the deil. Ye maun seat
yoursel’ on that stane, and move neither hand nor fit till I come back,
else I’ll never find ye again. And if everything round about ye turns
blue I hae beated the deil; but should a’ things turn red he’ll hae
conquered me.” She set hersel’ down on the stane, and by-and-by a’ round
her turned blue. O’ercome wi’ joy, she lifted the ae fit and crossed it
owre the ither, sae glad was she that her companion was victorious. The
bull returned and sought for but never could find her.
Lang she sat, and aye she grat, till she wearied. At last she rase and
gaed awa’, she kedna whaur till. On she wandered till she came to a
great hill o’ glass, that she tried a’ she could to climb, bat wasna
able. Round the bottom o’ the hill she gaed, sabbing and seeking a
passage owre, till at last she came to a smith’s house; and the smith
promised, if she wad serve him seven years, he wad make her iron shoon,
wherewi’ she could climb owre the glassy hill. At seven years’ end she
got her iron shoon, clamb the glassy hill, and chanced to come to the
auld washerwife’s habitation. There she was telled of a gallant young
knight that had given in some bluidy sarks to wash, and whaever washed
thae sarks was to be his wife. The auld wife had washed till she was
tired, and then she set to her dochter, and baith washed, and they
washed, and they better washed, in hopes of getting the young knight;
but a’ they could do they couldna bring out a stain. At length they set
the stranger damosel to wark; and whenever she began the stains came
out pure and clean, but the auld wife made the knight believe it was her
dochter had washed the sarks. So the knight and the eldest dochter were
to be married, and the stranger damosel was distracted at the thought
of it, for she was deeply in love wi’ him. So she bethought her of her
apple, and breaking it, found it filled with gold and precious jewelry,
the richest she had ever seen. “All these,” she said to the eldest
dochter, “I will give you, on condition that you put off your marriage
for ae day, and allow me to go into his room alone at night.” So
the lady consented; but meanwhile the auld wife had prepared a
sleeping-drink, and given it to the knight, wha drank it, and never
wakened till next morning. The lee-lang night ther damosel sabbed and
sang:
“Seven lang years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clamb for thee,
The bluidy shirt I wrang for thee;
And wilt thou no wauken and turn to me?”
Next day she kentna what to do for grief. She then brak the pear, and
found it filled wi’ jewelry far richer than the contents o’ the apple.
Wi’ thae jewels she bargained for permission to be a second night in
the young knight’s chamber; but the auld wife gied him anither
sleeping-drink, and he again sleepit till morning. A’ night she kept
sighing and singing as before:
“Seven lang years I served for thee,” &c. Still he sleepit, and she
nearly lost hope a’thegither. But that day when he was out at the
hunting, somebody asked him what noise and moaning was yon they heard
all last night in his bedchamber. He said he heardna ony noise. But they
assured him there was sae; and he resolved to keep waking that night
to try what he could hear. That being the third night, and the damosel
being between hope and despair, she brak her plum, and it held far the
richest jewelry of the three. She bargained as before; and the auld
wife, as before, took in the sleeping-drink to the young knight’s
chamber; but he telled her he couldna drink it that night without
sweetening. And when she gaed awa’ for some honey to sweeten it wi’, he
poured out the drink, and sae made the auld wife think he had drunk it.
They a’ went to bed again, and the damosel began, as before, singing:
“Seven lang years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clamb for thee,
The bluidy shirt I wrang for thee;
And wilt thou no wauken and turn to me?”
He heard, and turned to her. And she telled him a’ that had befa’en her,
and he telled her a’ that had happened to him. And he caused the auld
washerwife and her dochter to be burned. And they were married, and he
and she are living happy till this day, for aught I ken.(1)
(1) Chambers, Popular Traditions of Scotland.
THE RED ETIN
There were ance twa widows that lived on a small bit o’ ground, which
they rented from a farmer. Ane of them had twa sons, and the other had
ane; and by-and-by it was time for the wife that had twa sons to send
them away to seeke their fortune. So she told her eldest son ae day to
take a can and bring her water from the well, that she might bake a cake
for him; and however much or however little water he might bring, the
cake would be great or sma’ accordingly; and that cake was to be a’ that
she could gie him when he went on his travels.
The lad gaed away wi’ the can to the well, and filled it wi’ water, and
then came away hame again; but the can being broken the maist part of
the water had run out before he got back. So his cake was very sma’; yet
sma’ as it was, his mother asked if he was willing to take the half of
it with her blessing, telling him that, if he chose rather to have the
hale, he would only get it wi’ her curse. The young man, thinking he
might hae to travel a far way, and not knowing when or how he might get
other provisions, said he would like to hae the hale cake, com of his
mother’s malison what like; so she gave him the hale cake, and her
malison alang wi’t. Then he took his brither aside, and gave him a
knife to keep till he should come back, desiring him to look at it every
morning, and as lang as it continued to be clear, then he might be sure
that the owner of it was well; but if it grew dim and rusty, then for
certain some ill had befallen him.
So the young man set out to seek his fortune. And he gaed a’ that day,
and a’ the next day; and on the third day, in the afternoon, he came up
to where a shepherd was sitting with a flock o’ sheep. And he gaed up
to the shepherd and asked him wha the sheep belanged to; and the man
answered:
“The Red Etin of Ireland
Ance lived in Bellygan,
And stole King Malcolm’s daughter,
The King of fair Scotland.
He beats her, he binds her,
He lays her on a band;
And every day he dings her
With a bright silver wand
Like Julian the Roman
He’s one that fears no man.
It’s said there’s ane predestinate
To be his mortal foe;
But that man is yet unborn
And lang may it be so.”
The young man then went on his journey; and he had not gone far when he
espied an old man with white locks herding a flock of swine; and he gaed
up to him and asked whose swine these were, when the man answered:
“The Red Etin of Ireland”--
(Repeat the verses above.)
Then the young man gaed on a bit farther, and came to another very old
man herding goats; and when he asked whose goats they were, the answer
was:
“The Red Etin of Ireland”--
(Repeat the verses again.)
This old man also told him to beware of the next beasts that he should
meet, for they were of a very different kind from any he had yet seen.
So the young man went on, and by-and-by he saw a multitude of very
dreadfu’ beasts, ilk ane o’ them wi’ twa heads, and on every head four
horns. And he was sore frightened, and ran away from them as fast as he
could; and glad was he when he came to a castle that stood on a hillock,
wi’ the door standing wide to the wa’. And he gaed into the castle for
shelter, and there he saw an auld wife sitting beside the kitchen fire.
He asked the wife if he might stay there for the night, as he was tired
wi’ a lang journey; and the wife said he might, but it was not a good
place for him to be in, as it belanged to the Red Etin, who was a very
terrible beast, wi’ three heads, that spared no living man he could get
hold of. The young man would have gone away, but he was afraid of the
beasts on the outside of the castle; so he beseeched the old woman to
conceal him as well as she could, and not to tell the Etin that he was
there. He thought, if he could put over the night, he might get away in
the morning without meeting wi’ the beasts, and so escape. But he had
not been long in his hidy-hole before the awful Etin came in; and nae
sooner was he in than he was heard crying:
“Snouk but and snouk ben,
I find the smell of an earthly man;
Be he living, or be he dead,
His heart this night shall kitchen(1) my bread.”
(1) “Kitchen,” that is, “season.”
The monster soon found the poor young man, and pulled him from his hole.
And when he had got him out he told him that if he could answer him
three questions his life should be spared. The first was: Whether
Ireland or Scotland was first inhabited? The second was: Whether man was
made for woman, or woman for man? The third was: Whether men or
brutes were made first? The lad not being able to answer one of these
questions, the Red Etin took a mace and knocked him on the head, and
turned him into a pillar of stone.
On the morning after this happened the younger brither took out the
knife to look at it, and he was grieved to find it a’ brown wi’ rust. He
told his mother that the time was now come for him to go away upon
his travels also; so she requested him to take the can to the well for
water, that she might bake a cake for him. The can being broken, he
brought hame as little water as the other had done, and the cake was as
little. She asked whether he would have the hale cake wi’ her malison,
or the half wi’ her blessing; and, like his brither, he thought it best
to have the hale cake, come o’ the malison what might. So he gaed away;
and everything happened to him that had happened to his brother!
The other widow and her son heard of a’ that had happened frae a fairy,
and the young man determined that he would also go upon his travels, and
see if he could do anything to relieve his twa friends. So his mother
gave him a can to go to the well and bring home water, that she might
bake him a cake for his journey. And he gaed, and as he was bringing
hame the water, a raven owre abune his head cried to him to look, and
he would see that the water was running out. And he was a young man of
sense, and seeing the water running out, he took some clay and patched
up the holes, so that he brought home enough water to bake a large cake.
When his mother put it to him to take the half-cake wi’ her blessing,
he took it in preference to having the hale wi’ her malison; and yet the
half was bigger than what the other lads had got a’thegither.
So he gaed away on his journey; and after he had traveled a far way he
met wi’ an auld woman, that asked him if he would give her a bit of his
bannock. And he said he would gladly do that, and so he gave her a piece
of the bannock; and for that she gied him a magical wand, that she said
might yet be of service to him if he took care to use it rightly. Then
the auld woman, who was a fairy, told him a great deal that whould
happen to him, and what he ought to do in a’ circumstances; and after
that she vanished in an instant out o’ his sight. He gaed on a great way
farther, and then he came up to the old man herding the sheep; and when
he asked whose sheep these were, the answer was:
“The Red Etin of Ireland
Ance lived in Bellygan,
And stole King Malcolm’s daughter,
The King of fair Scotland.
He beats her, he binds her,
He lays her on a band;
And every day he dings her
With a bright silver wand.
Like Julian the Roman,
He’s one that fears no man,
But now I fear his end is near,
And destiny at hand;
And you’re to be, I plainly see,
The heir of all his land.”
(Repeat the same inquiries to the man attending the swine and the man
attending the goats, with the same answer in each case.)
When he came to the place where the monstrous beasts were standing, he
did not stop nor run away, but went boldly through among them. One came
up roaring with open mouth to devour him, when he struck it with his
wand, and laid it in an instant dead at his feet. He soon came to the
Etin’s castle, where he knocked, and was admitted. The auld woman that
sat by the fire warned him of the terrible Etin, and what had been the
fate of the twa brithers; but he was not to be daunted. The monster soon
came in, saying:
“Snouk but and snouk ben,
I find the smell of an earthly man;
Be he living, or be he dead,
His heart shall be kitchen to my bread.”
He quickly espied the young man, and bade him come forth on the floor.
And then he put the three questions to him, but the young man had been
told everything by the good fairy, so he was able to answer all the
questions. When the Etin found this he knew that his power was gone. The
young man then took up the axe and hewed off the monster’s three heads.
He next asked the old woman to show him where the King’s daughters lay;
and the old woman took him upstairs and opened a great many doors, and
out of every door came a beautiful lady who had been imprisoned there by
the Etin; and ane o’ the ladies was the King’s daughter. She also took
him down into a low room, and there stood two stone pillars that he had
only to touch wi’ his wand, when his two friends and neighbors started
into life. And the hale o’ the prisoners were overjoyed at their
deliverance, which they all acknowledged to be owing to the prudent
young man. Next day they a’ set out for the King’s Court, and a gallant
company they made. And the King married his daughter to the young man
that had delivered her, and gave a noble’s daughter to ilk ane o’ the
other young men; and so they a’ lived happily a’ the rest o’ their
days.(1)
(1) Chambers, Popular Traditions of Scotland.