Then she related everything.
The King frowned. "But how do I know whether you are really the Princess
Myrtle? You may for all that be but a goose-girl or a beggar-maid."
She replied, "Let me remain in your court three days as a beggar-maid. If
at the end of that time you are not sure, turn me out. I, too, will be
sure of something at the end of three days."
"Of what will you be sure?" asked the King.
"Which of you is the real king here."
Then King Cuthbert grew red like old leather, and laughed and sighed and
frowned. "God knows, I should myself like that knowledge." Then he
signed to a court lady, who was looking on with proud eyes. "Come, Dame
Caecilia, take this beggar-maid to one of the suites in the palace, and
put fair clothes on her, and conduct her to the dining-hall when the
hour strikes."
The court lady smiled to hide her anger, for she dared not disobey, and
she beckoned the Princess Myrtle to follow her. They went through a vast
door into a corridor that ran beneath heavy arches, and the walls of this
passage moved as if alive, but it was only the draught swaying the
tapestries with their gray trees and knights who rode among the trees
like heavy shadows, and long-haired women who watched the knights ride
while they wove flower-wreaths.
Then the proud court lady took the Princess up a winding stair, like the
twisted ways of life, down more corridors, then into a room, through
whose windows high cypresses looked, and upon whose ceiling little cupids
flew about.
"Now, beggar," she said angrily, throwing open the door of a wardrobe
where hung silken things, "make the most of your luck. What will you
wear? Here is mallow satin sewn with pearls, and with a running border of
jasmine flowers done in sweet embroidery silks. Will it please you? Here
is a silver cloth, studded with little coral beads over a petticoat of
ancient lace. Here is black velvet softly lined with apricot brocade!"
"Nay, none of these will I wear, but my gown of good wool, and in my
bundle are changes of linen, for I want no lace on my limbs. Send me
fresh flowers for my hair, I entreat you, and I will bathe and so prepare
myself for the court dinner."
Dame Caecilia stared at her, and moved the golden combs and mirrors
about angrily on the dressing-table. "You will lose me my place at
court," she cried.
"Perhaps it is already lost," answered the Princess.
"You speak not at all like a beggar."
"You never took the trouble to learn what a beggar really says," the
Princess replied as she stripped the blue glove from her hand.
Curiosity got the better of the court lady's anger. "What person gave you
that glove in place of alms?" she asked.
"My godmother out of faery land!"
"Nonsense!" cried the Dame, and she departed for the flowers with a face
like a withered leaf.
The little Princess leaned against the sill of the window and sighed, and
looked into the blue sphere of the night and wondered on what altar the
high stars were lit. She thought of Merlin who had drowned his ball
because her touch was on it, and her heart throbbed as if a hand were
drawing it from her breast to place it out of her reach. She had seen
little maids among the golden shadows of her own court with their white
hands outstretched towards a heart someone had taken. Now the thrilling
touch of that theft was upon her own spirit. Her thoughts followed Merlin
as if her substance had been changed into his shadow.
All the court had assembled for dinner, when she entered the banquet
hall behind the shame-faced Dame Caecilia, who made a curtsey to the
floor as she explained to the King that the beggar-maid, being lacking
in art, refused the silken clothes. "She would wear only this crown of
wood violets."
Then the Princess curtsied, and all the courtiers laughed, but the King
gravely bowed to her; and called, "Prince Hugh."
Prince Hugh came forward, looking noble as was his wont in the presence
of his father. "What is your will, Sire?"
"I desire you to lead this maiden to the banquet."
"Sire, I have already asked the Lady Diana," he said and blushed a
little, for he was lying.
The King then asked a lackey to summon Prince Richard, who came looking
noble as was his custom, also, in the presence of his father.
"I desire you to lead this maiden to the banquet."
Prince Richard still endeavored to look noble. "Sire," he replied, "I am
not dining to-night. I have a headache."
Then King Cuthbert sent for Prince Merlin. Now when the Princess Myrtle
heard his name, it seemed to her as if musicians had begun to play in a
far-off room. She drooped her head a little lest she should show tears in
her eyes when he, too, refused her. He came up white and grave with a
look that was not patient. When his father made the request of him that
he made of his other sons, Prince Merlin bowed and extended his arm to
the beggar-girl, but he was as silent as a wood before a storm. Only the
Princess quivered like a leaf that expects a great wind to pass.
"Did you obey your father because you are sorry for me?" she whispered.
"No, I obeyed him because he is the King, not I. I am sorry for myself
rather than you."
Then the Princess felt her soul sink into a gulf, but she smiled and
ate the food that was offered her, and made no attempt to speak to
Prince Merlin.
All the next day she wandered in the rose-alleys, through marvelous
terraces, and under the great trees, but no one spoke to her, nor could
she see anything but vanishing forms; and so it was until evening, when
wearied, she sat down on a bench and gazed into her mirror and gave a cry
of joy. "Now," said she, "I love truly. By this sign I know I love truly,
for I see Merlin's face in the mirror and not my own."
Then she went alone to her rooms through the vast corridors, and stood
before the long mirrors which were not magic, but only meant to
reflect earthly vanities; and from the shining marble floor came up a
kind of radiance about her. She opened the cedar doors of the
wardrobes, and there issued a scent as of costly silk that has been
perfumed with iris root.
The temptation was heavy upon her to clothe herself delicately that she
might please Merlin; and never before had beautiful clothes seemed so
wonderful to her. She ran her long white fingers through the folds of
silk, and let the laces cascade over her arms; but in the end she changed
only her wooden shoes for little dancing slippers of violet velvet, and
again she put fresh violets in her hair.
When she entered the banquet hall, she found the King on the dais, and on
one side of him stood Prince Hugh in a rose-satin dancing dress; and on
the other Prince Richard in a garb of yellow velvet. Both wore jeweled
girdles to which were attached little shining swords with opals in the
hilts. About the throne were grouped the courtiers; and beyond the
courtiers were the knights and ladies of the frescoed walls which bore
the history of King Cuthbert's ancestors; girls like drifting blossoms,
matrons like sweet fruit, and knights like strong trees.
The white velvet curtains before the tall casements shut out the stars,
but all the heavens seemed recorded by the glowing wax-candles. Down the
center of the room ran the banquet-table with dishes of gold; and plumage
of rare birds nesting strange viands; and the sweet cheeks of summer
fruits showing through the heaped blossoms of rose, gardenia, and
honeysuckle. There were sweetmeats on dishes of pierced silver and
between these played into broad glass bowls jets of scented water, making
a lake where tiny swans swam.
But all this beauty was nothing to Princess Myrtle, because she did not
see Prince Merlin in the room; nor at the banquet did he appear. So she
could eat but a little fruit, and that was without taste to her.
After the banquet the court repaired to the dancing-hall, where already
the musicians were strumming upon their instruments, so that everyone's
feet began to move rhythmically. Then King Cuthbert beckoned the Princess
Myrtle to him and said: "I see that you have put on dancing-slippers.
With whom will you dance?"
"With myself, Sire, should I have no partner," she replied smiling.
At that moment Prince Merlin approached the throne clothed all in black
silk, more appropriate for a scene of mourning than of festivity; and the
King said to him: "Wilt thou lead this beggar-maid in the dance?"
The Prince's face grew as white for a moment as the lace of his collar,
but he replied proudly, "At a ball a man chooses his own partners."
Then the Princess Myrtle's heart felt as weary as feet on a long road;
but she awaited patiently the King's next word, which was spoken to
Prince Richard and Prince Hugh, inviting them to dance with the
beggar-maid. Each made an excuse. Then King Cuthbert addressed her.
"Dance with yourself, beggar-girl," and he had the heralds proclaim
that this stranger who wore brown wool in court would go on the floor
alone. Everyone laughed and clapped their hands, only Prince Merlin bit
his lip and looked prouder than ever, which, when she saw, the Princess
Myrtle thought, "I will dance so beautifully that he will ask me to be
his partner."
Then she let down her hair from beneath her crown of flowers, and went
into the center of the circle that the court had formed, and began to
sway a little like a flower in the breeze. Soon the court found itself
swaying with her, so that it was like a garden when the wind rises. But
when all were moving, the Princess saw that Prince Merlin stood like a
pine-tree that will not bend its head unless the tempest comes out of
the North. So she changed from a flower to a butterfly and began a
fluttering, glancing motion, and threw back her golden locks like
wings. Everyone watching her became very still, only Prince Merlin
moved restlessly, and once he put his hand across his eyes as if the
sun were in them.
When she had finished the King cried "Bravo," and then the court crowded
about her, and Prince Hugh and Prince Richard asked her to dance with
them; but Prince Merlin did not ask her, though he led out many ladies;
and because of that it was as if she were dancing in the snow and rain,
or on sharp stones.
The pain in her heart grew violent, and drove her at last to the
orange-tree near which he stood. On the edge of its marble tub she sat
down to rest, and all at once a golden orange dropped in her lap. She
held it out to him. "You have drowned your scarlet ball, take this."
"Nay, for it is perishable," he said.
Then tears like pearls came slowly from her eyes and she was driven
to say: "You alone have not asked me to dance. Did not my dancing
please you?"
He replied, "I am not like my brothers," and he bowed and left her.
That night she lay on her broad bed beneath silken covers and sobbed
bitterly because her heart told her that Prince Merlin was noble; yet her
memory stung her with his cold words and averted eyes. Soon the third day
would be over, and she would have to leave the court; for even if King
Cuthbert acknowledged that she was a princess, what did that matter if
Merlin did not know that she was his queen?
All next day she sat on the terrace which looks seaward and counted the
sails coming up over the horizon like white petals blown from an
invisible garden; and she would say, "If five come within a space of half
an hour there will be hope for me"; but she always lost count, in
thinking of his face.
That night she took off her woolen dress and she clothed herself in laces
and over the laces she put on a cream silk gown all woven with apple
blossoms, and she placed flowers upon her hair; then flashed before the
mirror and smiled to see herself so beautiful. "Surely," she thought, "he
will not turn from me to-night."
Then she put on her dancing-slippers; and went down. When she entered
the banquet hall there was a stir and a murmur; and even King Cuthbert
was silent with amazement over her beauty. Prince Hugh and Prince
Richard came forward to meet her, and they bowed low, and looked very
noble, indeed.
"Our father has played a merry jest upon us," they said. "You are,
indeed, a princess and no beggar-maid." Then they began to dispute which
should take her in to dinner. But her eyes were all for Prince Merlin,
who, when the courtiers crowded about her and proclaimed her a princess,
looked straight away from her. This was as a little sword in her heart,
but the grief that dimmed her eyes made her appear even more beautiful.
After the banquet all proceeded to the dancing-hall, and King Cuthbert
gave his arm to her. "Now I know thou art the Princess Myrtle. Which of
my sons hast thou chosen?"
"A woman is chosen; she does not choose," she replied, for her heart was
heavy. "To-night I must leave your court."
"Wilt thou continue thy search, Princess Myrtle?" the King said
anxiously.
"No, I will return to my Kingdom."
"And what wilt thou do there?"
"I will weep," she answered.
She danced a measure with Prince Hugh and a measure with Prince Richard;
then she saw that though Prince Merlin was in white satin and gold he did
not dance, but stood alone by the orange-tree.
When she was free she sent a herald to fetch him, for now she desired no
longer to play a part, but to be herself. He came slowly to where she
stood, and bowed before her in silence.
"Tell me, Prince Merlin," she said, "if you agree with these courtiers
that to-night I am become a princess?"
"I do not agree with them," he answered. "Clothes do not make a
princess."
Then they looked at each other. "Will you meet me," she said, "on the
edge of the wild forest in half an hour's time?"
"I am your servant," he replied.
She stole away to her rooms, where the moonlight lay athwart the
tessellated marble floor, and opened the casement and placed the lamp
there, which was to be the signal for her attendants to have her horses
ready on the edge of the wild forest. Then she put on the gown she had
worn as a beggar-girl, and her wooden shoes, and let her hair down over
her shoulders.
The way to the wild forest was haunted with shadows and little fleeing
things; and the night-owls called, but she remembered the look in
Merlin's eyes, and conquered her fears.
And there he was waiting, with the moonlight gleaming on his white satin;
and his face turned to the path up which she came.
She held out her hand to him with the blue velvet glove upon it, and she
said softly, "Will you look into my mirror, Prince Merlin?"
"I am your servant," he said again, then looked.
His eyes became full of light. "I see your face," he cried; and sank upon
one knee. She gave him both her hands.
"What am I to you?" she asked. "A princess?"
"No," he whispered.
"A beggar-girl?"
"No," he whispered.
"What then?"
"Thou art my love."
Then all the birds in all the world sang in her heart. "Tell me," she
said, "why, then, didst thou sink thy ball?"
"That no hands should ever touch it after thine."
"And why didst thou say when thou didst lead me in to dinner, that thou
wast sorry not for me, but for thyself?"
"I feared that thou wouldst never love me."
Then she laughed joyfully and asked, "Why didst thou say 'I am not like
my brothers' when I asked thee to dance?"
"I wanted thee for thyself, not for thy dancing."
And now the stars moved all to nuptial music. "One question more," she
cried. "Why didst thou say 'Clothes do not make a princess'?"
"Because I knew thou wast a princess the first hour I saw thee."
"Rise up, my Prince," she said. "We have a long journey before us."
"I hear the neighing of horses," he said, "and the moving of feet."
"My attendants," she replied. "My foster-mother rides with them. She gave
me the blue glove, and told me he should be my husband who should see not
his own face in the mirror, but mine."
"I see thy face everywhere," cried Prince Merlin.
So he kissed her, and they rode away with all her train through the
sighing night-wind and beneath the summer stars to the land of their joy.