"You see, it was as I said," the old grey gander said; "those young men
are all fools. You had much better marry me."
He had no sooner said the words than a perfect whirlwind of shouts
arose.
"Marry me!" "No, marry me!" "Me!" "Me!" "Me!"
The Queen put her fingers to her ears. "If you don't be quiet I'll fly
away altogether," she said.
But it produced no effect at all; the sound of voices went on just like
the sound of surf on a pebbly shore.
"Oh, I can't stand it," the Queen said. "And to think that it is to go
on like this for ever and ever, and all because of this horrible elixir!
I shall fly right away from it."
And she quietly rose and sailed away in the air, and the last she saw of
the geese was that they were feebly trying to fly after her, waving
their arms frantically as if they had been wings.
The Queen flew straight up into the air, and she had reached a dizzy
height before she thought of what she was doing.
To tell the truth, she was a little sorrowful at the thought of leaving
the geese; for, with the exception of the old bat, they had been almost
her only friends.
"I wish they _could_ have flown with me," she said to herself. "But,
good gracious, how high I am getting! I shall be losing my way. Why,
the earth looks quite small and quite like a map."
And so it did. Then an idea struck the Queen.
"Suppose I were to fly right up to the sun; what fun it would be!"
And, since the idea had come into her bead, she determined to make the
attempt.
Up, up she flew, higher and ever higher, till all the air around was
full of strange harmonies, as though ten thousand AEolian harps were
being breathed upon in accord by a great wind. And all around her, too,
the planets whirred and spun and the stars gleamed, and now and again
she would pass through mists of luminousness and of gleaming hail.
Up, up she went till she came where there was a great bow of iridescent
colours, and rising from it a great array of white steps, that ran up,
up, so high that it took away her breath to look upon them. At the top
was a great glare of light.
The Queen felt tired and a little bewildered; it seemed as if her wings
would bear her no longer or, at least, no higher.
Upon the many-coloured road she stood and looked up the great white way.
A voice spoke to her like a great rushing of wind.
"Maiden," it said, "so far and no further."
And a feeling akin to fear came over her; but not fear, for she knew not
what guilt was.
And the voice spoke again. "Go down this bow back to the earth, and do
the work that is to be done by you. Be of use to your fellows."
And the Queen turned and went her way down the great road. The air was
full of voices, glad voices, such that the Queen had never heard
before--full of a joy that made her heart leap to hear.
But she could see no one.
Till at last she came back to the green earth, late in the afternoon.
For a moment, above her, she could see the great span of the rainbow,
and then it vanished into the clear air, and the Queen was alone in the
little valley. There it was already dusk, though the sky above the long
down before her was still golden with the rays of the sun that had sunk
behind it.
There was a little rill running along the valley, and the Queen knelt
down and drank of its brimfulness, taking the water up in her hand. It
was very sweet and cool, and the Queen felt happy to be back on the
earth again.
"After all," she said to herself; as she sat herself down in the soft,
cool grass, that tickled her hands--"after all, it's something to have
firm ground under one; one feels just a _little_ lonely up there, quite
away from everything except shooting stars, and the world is a dear old
place in the twilight like this."
Up above the hill-top she saw a man's head appear, together with a pair
of horses and a plough. Quite plainly she could hear the bridle
trappings' rattle and click, and the heavy breathing of the horses in
the evening stillness.
It was all so quiet and natural that she did not feel at all surprised.
Just at the brow of the hill, standing out black against the light, the
man halted, and, lifting the plough, turned his team of horses round and
set off down the new furrow.
With very little hesitation, the Queen went up the hill towards the spot
from which he had disappeared, and in a very short time she had reached
the brow and stood looking down the furrows. The western sky was still
a blaze of glory, and the yellow light gleamed along the ridge of
shining earth that the plough turned up, and on the steel of the
ploughshare. The ploughman was singing a song, and his voice came
mellowly along over the sunlit stubble that was not yet ploughed up.
"I wonder, now, if it will be safe for me to speak to him, or if he'll
fall in love with me as soon as he sees me? because it's really too much
of a nuisance."
However, she went lightly across the stubble towards him. He was just
turning the plough as she approached, and he did not seem to notice her.
"Now, lads," he said to the horses, "the last lap for this evening."
And the horses whinnied softly and set their necks to the collar.
"Can I be of any use to you?" the Queen said.
The man stopped his team for a moment, and looked towards her. Against
the glow of the sky she could not make out his face; but he seemed to
smile.
"No, friend," he said. "I have all but finished my day's work; but, if
you will lead the horses up the furrow, they may go straighter than I
can drive them."
So the Queen went to the horses' heads, and took one of them by the
bridle, and the great beasts stretched to the work. And the Queen felt
a new happiness come over her, at the thought that she was of use in the
world.
The sun set as they came to the edge of the field. The plougher
stretched his arms abroad, and then came to the horses' heads.
"Thank you, friend," he said to the Queen. He did not look at her, but
kept his eyes downcast on the ground with a strangely distant appearance
in them. "Will you not come home and sup with us? It is hardly a
hundred yards to the farm, and the nearest place to here is several
miles onwards."
The Queen said, "Thank you. I should be very glad; but--but--" as the
thought struck her, "I shan't be able to pay you, you know."
The ploughman laughed. "Now I see you are a stranger," he said. "But
yet I have seldom had strangers pass here that offered to help me."
The Queen said, "Yes, but it is so nice to be of use to any one;" and
seeing that he was engaged in unbuckling the horse from the plough on
the right side, she did as much for the one on the left.