magician to be, in a great crowd. Some begged his blessing, others
kissed his hand, while others, more reserved, touched only the hem of
his garment; still others, suffering from disease, stooped for him to
lay his hands upon them. The magician, muttering some words in the
form of a prayer, did continually as he was asked, counterfeiting so
well that no one suspected he was not the holy woman.
Finally he came before the square of the palace. The crowd and the
noise was so great that the princess, who was in the hall of the four
and twenty windows, heard it and asked what was the matter. One of her
women told her that it was a great crowd of people collected about the
holy woman, to be cured by the laying on of her hands.
The princess, who had long heard of this holy woman, desired to have
some conversation with her, and sent her chief officer to bring Fatima
to her apartment.
The crowd parted before the attendants from the palace, and the
magician, seeing that they were coming to him, advanced to meet them,
overjoyed that his plot was succeeding so well.
"Holy woman," said one of the attendants, "the princess wishes to see
you, and has sent us for you."
"The princess does me too great an honor," replied Fatima; "I am ready
to obey her command."
When the pretended Fatima had made her obeisance, the princess said,
"My good mother, I have one thing to request, which you must not
refuse me. Stay with me that you may edify me with your way of living,
and that I may learn from your good example."
"Princess," said the counterfeit Fatima, "I beg of you not to ask me
what I cannot consent to without neglecting my prayers and devotions."
"That shall be no hindrance to you," answered the princess. "I have a
great many unoccupied apartments. Choose whichever you wish, and you
may have as much liberty to perform your devotions as if you were in
your own cell."
The magician, who really desired nothing more than an introduction
into the palace, where he could easily execute his designs, soon
allowed himself to be persuaded to accept the offer which the princess
had made him.
Then the princess, rising, said, "Come with me; I will show you what
vacant apartments I have, that you may choose what you like best." The
magician followed, and after looking at all, chose the worst one,
saying that it was too good for him and that he accepted it only to
please her.
Afterward the princess would have brought him back into the great hall
to dine with her, but he, knowing he would have to show his face,
which he had all this time concealed under Fatima's veil, begged her
to excuse him, saying that he never ate anything but bread and dried
fruits, and desiring to eat that slightest repast in his own
apartment.
"You are as free here, good mother, as if you were in your own cell. I
will order you a dinner, but remember, I expect you as soon as you
have finished."
After the princess had dined, the false Fatima was again brought
before her.
"My good mother," said the princess, "I am overjoyed to have so holy a
woman as yourself confer, by your presence, a blessing upon this
palace. Now that I am speaking of the palace, pray how do you like it?
Tell me first what you think of this hall."
The counterfeit Fatima, surveying the palace from one end to the
other, said: "As far as such a solitary being as myself, who am
unacquainted with what the world calls beautiful, can judge, this hall
is truly admirable; there wants but one thing."
"What is that, good mother?" demanded the princess. "Tell me, I
conjure you. I have always believed and heard that it lacked nothing,
but if it does, the want shall be supplied."
"Princess," said the false Fatima with great dissimulation, "forgive
the liberty I take, but in my opinion, if it is of any importance, if
a roc's egg were hung up in the middle of the dome, this hall would
have no parallel in the four quarters of the world, and would be the
wonder of the universe."
"My good mother," said the princess, "what is a roc, and where may one
get an egg?"
"Princess, it is a bird of prodigious size that lives on Mount
Caucasus; the architect who built your palace can get you one."
After the princess had thanked the false Fatima for what she believed
her good advice, she conversed upon other matters, but she could not
forget the roc's egg, and that evening when she met Aladdin, she
almost immediately addressed him.
"I always believed that our palace was the most superb, magnificent,
and complete in the world, but I will tell you now what it wants, and
that is a roc's egg hung up in the midst of the dome."
"Princess," replied Aladdin, "it is enough that you think it wants
such an ornament; you shall see by my diligence that there is nothing
that I should not do for your sake."
Aladdin left the Princess Buddir al Buddoor that moment, and went up
into the hall of the four and twenty windows, where, pulling from his
bosom the lamp, which he now always carried upon him, he rubbed the
lamp till the genie came.
"Genie," said Aladdin, "I command that in the name of this lamp you
bring me a roc's egg to be hung up in the middle of the dome of the
hall of the palace." Aladdin had no sooner pronounced these words than
the hall shook as if it would fall, and the genie cried in a loud
voice, "Is it not enough that I and the other slaves of the lamp have
done everything for you, but you, by an unheard-of ingratitude,
command me to bring my master and hang him up in the midst of this
dome? For this attempt, you and the princess deserve to be immediately
reduced to ashes; I spare you simply because this request does not
come from yourself. The true author is the brother of the African
magician, your enemy, whom you have destroyed. He is now in your
palace, disguised in the habit of the holy woman, Fatima, whom he has
murdered. It is at his suggestion that your wife makes this pernicious
demand. His design is to kill you, therefore take care of yourself."
After these words the genie disappeared.
Aladdin resolved at once what to do. He returned to the princess's
apartment, where, saying nothing of what had happened, he sat down,
complaining of a great pain in the head. The princess told him how the
holy Fatima was in the palace, and the prince requested that she be
brought to him at once.
"Come hither, good mother," said Aladdin, when the pretended Fatima
appeared; "I am glad to see you. I have a violent pain in my head, and
hope you will not refuse to cure me as you do other afflicted
persons."
So saying, Aladdin arose, holding his head down. The counterfeit
Fatima advanced, keeping his hand all the time on a dagger concealed
under his gown. Aladdin saw all this, and the moment the pretended
woman came within reach, he snatched the dagger and plunged it into
the heart of the traitorous magician, at the same time pushing him to
the floor.
"My dear prince," cried the terrified princess, "what have you done?
You have killed the holy woman!"
"No, my princess, I have not killed Fatima, but a villain, who would
have assassinated me if I had not prevented him. This wicked man," he
said, uncovering the face of the magician, "is the brother of the
magician who attempted our ruin. He has murdered Fatima, disguised
himself in her clothes, and come here with intent to murder me."
Aladdin then told her how the genie had explained these facts, and how
narrowly she had escaped destruction through the treacherous
suggestion which had led to her request.
Thus was Aladdin delivered from the persecution of the two magicians.
Within a few years afterward, the sultan died in a good old age, and
as he left no male children, the Princess Buddir al Buddoor succeeded
him, and with Aladdin reigned many long years in happiness and
prosperity.
THE SECOND VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR
From THE ARABIAN NIGHTS
Among the popular tales in the Arabian Nights collection are those in
which Sinbad, the wealthy merchant of Bagdad, tells to a poor porter
the story of seven marvelous voyages, to illustrate the fact that
wealth is not always easily obtained. The most interesting voyage is
the second, of which Sinbad gives the account as follows:
I designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days at
Bagdad, but it was not long ere I grew weary of an indolent life, and
I put to sea a second time, with merchants of known probity. We
embarked on board a good ship, and, after recommending ourselves to
God, set sail. We traded from island to island, and exchanged
commodities with great profit. One day we landed on an island covered
with several sorts of fruit trees, but we could see neither man nor
animal. We walked in the meadows, along the streams that watered them.
While some of the sailors diverted themselves with gathering flowers,
and others fruits, I took my wine and provisions, and sat down near a
stream betwixt two high trees, which formed a thick shade. I made a
good meal, and afterward fell asleep. I cannot tell how long I slept,
but when I awoke the ship was gone.
[Illustration: THE VALLEY WAS STREWED WITH DIAMONDS]
In this sad condition, I was ready to die with grief. I cried out in
agony, beat my head and breast, and threw myself upon the ground,
where I lay some time in despair. I upbraided myself a hundred times
for not being content with the produce of my first voyage, that might
have sufficed me all my life. But all this was in vain, and my
repentance came too late. At last I resigned myself to the will of
God. Not knowing what to do, I climbed up to the top of a lofty tree,
from whence I looked about on all sides, to see if I could discover
anything that could give me hopes. When I gazed toward the sea I could
see nothing but sky and water; but looking over the land, I beheld
something white; and coming down, I took what provision I had left and
went toward it, the distance being so great that I could not
distinguish what it was.
As I approached, I thought it to be a white dome, of a prodigious
height and extent; and when I came up to it, I touched it, and found
it to be very smooth. I went round to see if it was open on any side,
but saw it was not, and that there was no climbing up to the top, as
it was so smooth. It was at least fifty paces round.
By this time the sun was about to set, and all of a sudden the sky
became as dark as if it had been covered with a thick cloud. I was
much astonished at this sudden darkness, but much more when I found it
occasioned by a bird of a monstrous size, that came flying toward me.
I remembered that I had often heard mariners speak of a miraculous
bird called the roc, and conceived that the great dome which I so much
admired must be its egg. In short, the bird alighted, and sat over the
egg. As I perceived her coming, I crept close to the egg, so that I
had before me one of the legs of the bird, which was as big as the
trunk of a tree. I tied myself strongly to it with my turban, in hopes
that the roc next morning would carry me with her out of this desert
island. After having passed the night in this condition, the bird flew
away as soon as it was daylight, and carried me so high that I could
not discern the earth; she afterward descended with so much rapidity
that I lost my senses. But when I found myself on the ground, I
speedily untied the knot, and had scarcely done so, when the roc,
having taken up a serpent of a monstrous length in her bill, flew
away.
The spot where it left me was encompassed on all sides by mountains
that seemed to reach above the clouds, and were so steep that there
was no possibility of getting out of the valley. This was a new
perplexity; so that when I compared this place with the desert island
from which the roc had brought me, I found that I had gained nothing
by the change.
As I walked through this valley, I perceived it was strewed with
diamonds, some of which were of surprising bigness. I took pleasure in
looking upon them; but shortly saw at a distance such objects as
greatly diminished my satisfaction, and which I could not view without
terror, namely, a great number of serpents, so monstrous that the
least of them was capable of swallowing an elephant. They retired in
the day time to their dens, where they hid themselves from the roc,
their enemy, and came out only in the night.
I spent the day in walking about the valley, resting myself at times
in such places as I thought most convenient. When night came on I went
into a cave, where I thought I might repose in safety. I secured the
entrance, which was low and narrow, with a great stone, to preserve me
from the serpents; but not so far as to exclude the light. I supped on
part of my provisions, but the serpents, which began hissing round me,
put me into such extreme fear that I did not sleep. When day appeared
the serpents retired, and I came out of the cave trembling. I can
justly say that I walked upon diamonds without feeling any inclination
to touch them. At last I sat down, and notwithstanding my
apprehensions, not having closed my eyes during the night, fell
asleep, after having eaten a little more of my provisions. But I had
scarcely shut my eyes when something that fell by me with a great
noise awaked me. This was a large piece of raw meat; and at the same
time I saw several others fall down from the rocks in different
places.
I had always regarded as fabulous what I had heard sailors and others
relate of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems employed by
merchants to obtain jewels from thence; but now I found that they had
stated nothing but the truth.
For the fact is, that the merchants come to the neighborhood of this
valley, when the eagles have young ones, and throw great joints of
meat into the valley; the diamonds, upon whose points they fall, stick
to them, and the eagles, which are stronger in this country than
anywhere else, pounce with great force upon those pieces of meat, and
carry them to their nests on the precipices of the rocks to feed their
young. The merchants at this time run to the nests, disturb and drive
off the eagles by their shouts, and take away the diamonds that stick
to the meat.
I perceived in this device the means of my deliverance.
[Illustration: THE ROC FLEW AWAY WITH SINBAD]
Having collected together the largest diamonds I could find, and put
them into the leather bag in which I used to carry my provisions, I
took the largest of the pieces of meat, tied it close round me with
the cloth of my turban, and then laid myself upon the ground, with my
face downward, the bag of diamonds being made fast to my girdle.
I had scarcely placed myself in this posture, when one of the eagles,
having taken me up with the piece of meat to which I was fastened,
carried me to his nest on the top of the mountain. The merchants
immediately began their shouting to frighten the eagles; and when they
had obliged them to quit their prey, one of them came to the nest
where I was. He was much alarmed when he saw me; but recovering
himself, instead of inquiring how I came thither, began to quarrel
with me, and asked why I stole his goods. "You will treat me," replied
I, "with more civility, when you know me better. Do not be uneasy; I
have diamonds enough for you and myself, more than all the other
merchants together. Whatever they have they owe to chance; but I
selected for myself, in the bottom of the valley, those which you see
in this bag." I had scarcely done speaking, when the other merchants
came crowding about us, much astonished to see me; but they were much
more surprised when I told them my story.
They conducted me to their encampment; and when I had opened my bag,
they were surprised at the largeness of my diamonds, and confessed
that they had never seen any of such size and perfection. I prayed the
merchant who owned the nest to which I had been carried (for every
merchant had his own) to take as many of his share as he pleased. He
contented himself with one, and that, too, the least of them; and when
I pressed him to take more, without fear of doing me any injury, "No,"
said he, "I am very well satisfied with this, which is valuable enough
to save me the trouble of making any more voyages, and will raise as
great a fortune as I desire."
I spent the night with the merchants, to whom I related my story a
second time, for the satisfaction of those who had not heard it. I
could not moderate my joy when I found myself delivered from the
danger I have mentioned. I thought myself in a dream, and could
scarcely believe myself out of danger.
The merchants had thrown their pieces of meat into the valley for
several days; and each of them being satisfied with the diamonds that
had fallen to his lot, we left the place the next morning, and
traveled near high mountains, where there were serpents of a
prodigious length, which we had the good fortune to escape. We took
shipping at the first port we reached, and touched at the isle of
Roha.
In this island is found the rhinoceros, an animal less than the
elephant, but larger than the buffalo. It has a horn upon its nose,
about a cubit in length; this horn is solid, and cleft through the
middle. The rhinoceros fights with the elephant, runs his horn into
his belly, and carries him off upon his head; but the blood and the
fat of the elephant run into his eyes and make him blind, and he falls
to the ground. Then, strange to relate, the roc comes and carries them
both away in her claws, for food for her young ones.
I pass over many other things peculiar to this island, lest I should
weary you. Here I exchanged some of my diamonds for merchandise. From
thence we went to other islands, and at last, having touched at
several trading towns of the continent, we landed at Bussorah, from
whence I proceeded to Bagdad. There I immediately gave large presents
to the poor, and lived honorably upon the vast riches I had brought,
and gained with so much fatigue.
BARBARA FRIETCHIE
By JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.
Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,
The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,
Fair as the garden of the Lord
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,
On that pleasant morn of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain wall,--
Over the mountains, winding down,
Horse and foot into Frederick town.
Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind; the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down;
In her attic-window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
Under his slouched hat, left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.
"Halt!"--the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
"Fire!"--out blazed the rifle-blast.
It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;
She leaned far out on the window-sill.
And shook it forth with a royal will.
"Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag," she said.
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;
The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word:
"Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.
All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet:
All day long that free flag tost
Over the heads of the rebel host.
Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;
And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good-night.
Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,
And the rebel rides on his raids no more.
Honor to her! and let a tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.
Over Barbara Frietchie's grave,
Flag of freedom and union, wave!
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;
And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town!
BEOWULF AND GRENDEL
NOTE.--The oldest poem in the English language is Beowulf, which
covers some six thousand lines. When it was written is not exactly
known, but the original is still in existence in the British Museum.
It was written in Anglo-Saxon and could not be read and understood by
us to-day. It has, however, been translated and turned into modern
English, and its quaintness of phrasing gives it a very peculiar charm
of its own.
An old Anglo-Saxon poem bears little resemblance to ours. There is no
rhyme, and the lines are not equal in length, and there does not seem
to be much music in it. One of its poetic characteristics is
alliteration; that is, several words in the same line begin with the
same or similar sounds. It is a noble old poem, however, and of great
interest, for it shows us what the old Saxon gleemen sang at their
feasts for the entertainment of their guests, as they sat about the
blazing fires in the huge, rude halls, drinking their mead.
The chief incident in the poem is Beowulf's battle with Grendel, and a
description of that, taken indirectly from the poem, is the story that
follows. After this combat Beowulf returned to his home, in time was
made king, and after a stormy life died from wounds received in combat
with a terrible fire fiend.
When the history of the Danes begins they had no kings and suffered
much at the hands of their neighbors. Then by way of the sea, from
some unknown land, came Scef, who subdued the neighboring tribes and
established the Danish throne on a firm foundation. His son and his
son's son followed him, but the latter sailed away as his grandfather
had come, and the race of ruler gods was ended.
Left to themselves, the Danes chose a king who ruled long and well and
left his son Hrothgar to make of them a wealthy and prosperous people.
After years of warfare, when the prosperity of Hrothgar was fully
established, it came into his mind to build a great hall where he and
his warriors and counselors could meet around one common banquet table
and where, as they drank their mead, they could discuss means for
increasing their power and making better the condition of their
peoples. High-arched and beautiful was the great mead-palace, with
towering pinnacles and marvelous walls, and the name that he gave to
the palace was Heorot, the HART or, as some say, the HEART. When the
noble building was finished, Hrothgar's heart was filled with joy, and
he gave to his counselors a noble feast, at which he presented them
with rings and ornaments and entertained them with music on the harps
and the inspiring songs of the Skalds.
Far away in the marshes, in the dark and solemn land where dwelt the
Jotuns, the giants who warred against God's people, lived the grim and
ferocious Grendel, more terrible than any of his brethren. From out of
the fastnesses of his gloomy home he saw the fair building of Hrothgar
and grew jealous of the Danish king, hating the united people, for
peace and harmony were evil in his sight.
The feast was long over, and the thanes and warriors slept in the
banquet hall, worn out by their rejoicing, but dreaming only of the
peaceful days to follow their long years of warfare. Into the midst of
the hall crept Grendel, and seized in his mighty arms full thirty of
the sleeping men and carried them away to his noisome home, where he
feasted at leisure upon their bodies.
The next morning there was grief and terror among the remaining Danes,
for they knew that no human being could have wrought such havoc and
that no human power could prevail against the monster who preyed upon
them.
The next night Grendel came again and levied his second tribute, and
again there was mourning and desolation in the land. Thus for twelve
years the monster giant came at intervals and carried away many of the
noblest in the kingdom. Then were there empty homes everywhere in the
land, and sorrow and suffering came where joy and peace had rested.
Strange as it may seem, Hrothgar himself was never touched, though he
sat the night long watching his nobles as they slept in the mead-hall,
hoping himself to deliver them from the awful power that harassed
them. But night after night Grendel came, and while Hrothgar remained
unharmed he was equally powerless to stay the ravages of the giant.
Hrothgar bowed his head in sorrow and prayed to his gods to send help
before all his noble vassals perished.