If the wonderful palace had grown like a bubble, like a bubble it
vanished. There the two stood on the sea-shore, with nothing to be
seen but rocks and sand and water, and the starry sky overhead.
The fisherman shook his cap of gold, and it jingled and tinkled,
and was as heavy as lead. If it was not all a dream, he was rich
for life. “But anyhow,” said he, “they might have given a body a
bite to eat.”
The magician put on his red clothes and his face again, making
himself as hoary and as old as before. He took out his flint and
steel, and his sticks of spice-wood and his gray powder, and made
a great fire and smoke just as he had done before. Then again he
tied his handkerchief over the fisherman’s eyes. “Remember,” said
he, “what I told you when we started upon our journey. Keep your
mouth tight shut, for if you utter so much as a single word you are
a lost man. Now throw your leg over what you feel and hold fast.”
The fisherman had his net over one arm and his cap of gold in the
other hand; nevertheless, there he felt the same hairy thing he had
felt before. He flung his leg over it, and away he was gone through
the air like a sky-rocket.
Now, he had grown somewhat used to strange things by this time, so
he began to think that he would like to see what sort of a creature
it was upon which he was riding thus through the sky. So he
contrived, in spite of his net and cap, to push up the handkerchief
from over one eye. Out he peeped, and then he saw as clear as day
what the strange steed was.
He was riding upon a he-goat as black as night, and in front of him
was the magician riding upon just such another, his great red robe
fluttering out behind him in the moonlight like huge red wings.
“Great herring and little fishes!” roared the fisherman; “it is a
billy-goat!”
Instantly goats, old man, and all were gone like a flash. Down fell
the fisherman through the empty sky, whirling over and over and
around and around like a frog. He held tightly to his net, but away
flew his fur cap, the golden money falling in a shower like sparks
of yellow light. Down he fell and down he fell, until his head spun
like a top.
By good-luck his house was just below, with its thatch of soft
rushes. Into the very middle of it he tumbled, and right through
the thatch--bump!--into the room below.
The good wife was in bed, snoring away for dear life; but such
a noise as the fisherman made coming into the house was enough
to wake the dead. Up she jumped, and there she sat, staring and
winking with sleep, and with her brains as addled as a duck’s egg
in a thunder-storm.
“There!” said the fisherman, as he gathered himself up and rubbed
his shoulder, “that is what comes of following a woman’s advice!”
[Illustration]
* * * * *
_All the good folk clapped their hands, not so much because of the
story itself, but because it was a woman who told it._
_“Aye, aye,” said the brave little Tailor, “there is truth in what
you tell, fair lady, and I like very well the way in which you have
told it.”_
_“Whose turn is it next?” said Doctor Faustus, lighting a fresh
pipe of tobacco._
_“’Tis the turn of yonder old gentleman,” said the Soldier who
cheated the Devil, and he pointed with the stem of his pipe to the
Fisherman who unbottled the Genie that King Solomon had corked up
and thrown into the sea. “Every one else hath told a story, and now
it is his turn.”_
_“I will not deny, my friend, that what you say is true, and that
it is my turn,” said the Fisherman. “Nor will I deny that I have
already a story in my mind. It is,” said he, “about a certain
prince, and of how he went through many and one adventures, and at
last discovered that which is--”_
[Illustration]
The Salt of Life.
Once upon a time there was a king who had three sons, and by the
time that the youngest prince had down upon his chin the king
had grown so old that the cares of the kingdom began to rest
over-heavily upon his shoulders. So he called his chief councillor
and told him that he was of a mind to let the princes reign in his
stead. To the son who loved him the best he would give the largest
part of his kingdom, to the son who loved him the next best the
next part, and to the son who loved him the least the least part.
The old councillor was very wise and shook his head, but the
king’s mind had long been settled as to what he was about to do. So
he called the princes to him one by one and asked each as to how
much he loved him.
“I love you as a mountain of gold,” said the oldest prince, and the
king was very pleased that his son should give him such love.
“I love you as a mountain of silver,” said the second prince, and
the king was pleased with that also.
But when the youngest prince was called, he did not answer at
first, but thought and thought. At last he looked up. “I love you,”
said he, “as I love salt.”
When the king heard what his youngest son said he was filled with
anger. “What!” he cried, “do you love me no better than salt--a
stuff that is the most bitter of all things to the taste, and the
cheapest and the commonest of all things in the world? Away with
you, and never let me see your face again! Henceforth you are no
son of mine.”
The prince would have spoken, but the king would not allow him, and
bade his guards thrust the young man forth from the room.
Now the queen loved the youngest prince the best of all her sons,
and when she heard how the king was about to drive him forth into
the wide world to shift for himself, she wept and wept. “Ah, my
son!” said she to him, “it is little or nothing that I have to give
you. Nevertheless, I have one precious thing. Here is a ring; take
it and wear it always, for so long as you have it upon your finger
no magic can have power over you.”
[Illustration]
Thus it was that the youngest prince set forth into the wide world
with little or nothing but a ring upon his finger.
For seven days he travelled on, and knew not where he was going or
whither his footsteps led. At the end of that time he came to the
gates of a town. The prince entered the gates, and found himself in
a city the like of which he had never seen in his life before for
grandeur and magnificence--beautiful palaces and gardens, stores
and bazaars crowded with rich stuffs of satin and silk and wrought
silver and gold of cunningest workmanship; for the land to which
he had come was the richest in all of the world. All that day he
wandered up and down, and thought nothing of weariness and hunger
for wonder of all that he saw. But at last evening drew down, and
he began to bethink himself of somewhere to lodge during the night.
Just then he came to a bridge, over the wall of which leaned an
old man with a long white beard, looking down into the water.
He was dressed richly but soberly, and every now and then he
sighed and groaned, and as the prince drew near he saw the tears
falling--drip, drip--from the old man’s eyes.
[Illustration]
The prince had a kind heart, and could not bear to see one in
distress; so he spoke to the old man, and asked him his trouble.
“Ah, me!” said the other, “only yesterday I had a son, tall and
handsome like yourself. But the queen took him to sup with her, and
I am left all alone in my old age, like a tree stripped of leaves
and fruit.”
“But surely,” said the prince, “it can be no such sad matter to sup
with a queen. That is an honor that most men covet.”
“Ah!” said the old man, “you are a stranger in this place, or else
you would know that no youth so chosen to sup with the queen ever
returns to his home again.”
“Yes,” said the prince, “I am a stranger and have only come hither
this day, and so do not understand these things. Even when I found
you I was about to ask the way to some inn where folk of good
condition lodge.”
“Then come home with me to-night,” said the old man. “I live
all alone, and I will tell you the trouble that lies upon this
country.” Thereupon, taking the prince by the arm, he led him
across the bridge and to another quarter of the town where he
dwelt. He bade the servants prepare a fine supper, and he and the
prince sat down to the table together. After they had made an end
of eating and drinking, the old man told the prince all concerning
those things of which he had spoken, and thus it was:
* * * * *
“When the king of this land died he left behind him three
daughters--the most beautiful princesses in all of the world.
“Folk hardly dared speak of the eldest of them, but whisperings
said that she was a sorceress, and that strange and gruesome things
were done by her. The second princess was also a witch, though it
was not said that she was evil, like the other. As for the youngest
of the three, she was as beautiful as the morning and as gentle as
a dove. When she was born a golden thread was about her neck, and
it was foretold of her that she was to be the queen of that land.
“But not long after the old king died the youngest princess
vanished--no one could tell whither, and no one dared to ask--and
the eldest princess had herself crowned as queen, and no one dared
gainsay her. For a while everything went well enough, but by-and-by
evil days came upon the land. Once every seven days the queen would
bid some youth, young and strong, to sup with her, and from that
time no one ever heard of him again, and no one dared ask what
had become of him. At first it was the great folk at the queen’s
palace--officers and courtiers--who suffered; but by-and-by the
sons of the merchants and the chief men of the city began to be
taken. One time,” said the old man, “I myself had three sons--as
noble young men as could be found in the wide world. One day
the chief of the queen’s officers came to my house and asked me
concerning how many sons I had. I was forced to tell him, and in a
little while they were taken one by one to the queen’s palace, and
I never saw them again.
“But misfortune, like death, comes upon the young as well as the
old. You yourself have had trouble, or else I am mistaken. Tell me
what lies upon your heart, my son, for the talking of it makes the
burthen lighter.”
The prince did as the old man bade him, and told all of his story;
and so they sat talking and talking until far into the night, and
the old man grew fonder and fonder of the prince the more he saw of
him. So the end of the matter was that he asked the prince to live
with him as his son, seeing that the young man had now no father
and he no children, and the prince consented gladly enough.
So the two lived together like father and son, and the good old man
began to take some joy in life once more.
But one day who should come riding up to the door but the chief of
the queen’s officers.
“How is this?” said he to the old man, when he saw the prince. “Did
you not tell me that you had but three sons, and is this not a
fourth?”
It was of no use for the old man to tell the officer that the
youth was not his son, but was a prince who had come to visit that
country. The officer drew forth his tablets and wrote something
upon them, and then went his way, leaving the old man sighing and
groaning. “Ah, me!” said he, “my heart sadly forebodes trouble.”
Sure enough, before three days had passed a bidding came to the
prince to make ready to sup with the queen that night.
When evening drew near a troop of horsemen came, bringing a white
horse with a saddle and bridle of gold studded with precious
stones, to take the prince to the queen’s palace.
As soon as they had brought him thither they led the prince to
a room where was a golden table spread with a snow-white cloth
and set with dishes of gold. At the end of the table the queen
sat waiting for him, and her face was hidden by a veil of silver
gauze. She raised the veil and looked at the prince, and when he
saw her face he stood as one wonder-struck, for not only was she so
beautiful, but she set a spell upon him with the evil charm of her
eyes. No one sat at the table but the queen and the prince, and a
score of young pages served them, and sweet music sounded from a
curtained gallery.
[Illustration]
At last came midnight, and suddenly a great gong sounded from the
court-yard outside. Then in an instant the music was stopped, the
pages that served them hurried from the room, and presently all was
as still as death.
Then, when all were gone, the queen arose and beckoned the prince,
and he had no choice but to arise also and follow whither she led.
She took him through the palace, where all was as still as the
grave, and so came out by a postern door into a garden. Beside the
postern a torch burned in a bracket. The queen took it down, and
then led the prince up a path and under the silent trees until they
came to a great wall of rough stone. She pressed her hand upon one
of the great stones, and it opened like a door, and there was a
flight of steps that led downward. The queen descended these steps,
and the prince followed closely behind her. At the bottom was a
long passage-way, and at the farther end the prince saw what looked
like a bright spark of light, as though the sun were shining. She
thrust the torch into another bracket in the wall of the passage,
and then led the way towards the light. It grew larger and larger
as they went forward, until at last they came out at the farther
end, and there the prince found himself standing in the sunlight
and not far from the sea-shore. The queen led the way towards the
shore, when suddenly a great number of black dogs came running
towards them, barking and snarling, and showing their teeth as
though they would tear the two in pieces. But the queen drew from
her bosom a whip with a steel-pointed lash, and as the dogs came
springing towards them she laid about her right and left, till the
skin flew and the blood ran, and the dogs leaped away howling and
yelping.
At the edge of the water was a great stone mill, and the queen
pointed towards it and bade the prince turn it. Strong as he
was, it was as much as he could do to work it; but grind it he
did, though the sweat ran down his face in streams. By-and-by a
speck appeared far away upon the water; and as the prince ground
and ground at the mill the speck grew larger and larger. It was
something upon the water, and it came nearer and nearer as swiftly
as the wind. At last it came close enough for him to see that it
was a little boat all of brass. By-and-by the boat struck upon the
beach, and as soon as it did so the queen entered it, bidding the
prince do the same.
No sooner were they seated than away the boat went, still as
swiftly as the wind. On it flew and on it flew, until at last
they came to another shore, the like of which the prince had
never seen in his life before. Down to the edge of the water ran
a garden--but such a garden! The leaves of the trees were all of
silver and the fruit of gold, and instead of flowers were precious
stones--white, red, yellow, blue, and green--that flashed like
sparks of sunlight as the breeze moved them this way and that way.
Beyond the silver trees, with their golden fruit, was a great
palace as white as snow, and so bright that one had to shut one’s
eyes as one looked upon it.
[Illustration]
The boat ran up on the beach close to just such a stone mill as the
prince had seen upon the other side of the water, and then he and
the queen stepped ashore. As soon as they had done so the brazen
boat floated swiftly away, and in a little while was gone.
“Here our journey ends,” said the queen. “Is it not a wonderful
land, and well worth the seeing? Look at all these jewels and this
gold, as plenty as fruits and flowers at home. You may take what
you please; but while you are gathering them I have another matter
after which I must look. Wait for me here, and by-and-by I will be
back again.”
So saying, she turned and left the prince, going towards the castle
back of the trees.
But the prince was a prince, and not a common man; he cared nothing
for gold and jewels. What he did care for was to see where the
queen went, and why she had brought him to this strange land. So,
as soon as she had fairly gone, he followed after.
He went along under the gold and silver trees, in the direction she
had taken, until at last he came to a tall flight of steps that led
up to the doorway of the snow-white palace. The door stood open,
and into it the prince went. He saw not a soul, but he heard a
noise as of blows and the sound as of some one weeping. He followed
the sound, until by-and-by he came to a great vaulted room in the
very centre of the palace. A curtain hung at the doorway. The
prince lifted it and peeped within, and this was what he saw:
In the middle of the room was a marble basin of water as clear
as crystal, and around the sides of the basin were these words,
written in letters of gold:
“_Whatsoever is False, that I make True_.”
Beside the fountain upon a marble stand stood a statue of a
beautiful woman made of alabaster, and around the neck of the
statue was a thread of gold. The queen stood beside the statue, and
beat and beat it with her steel-tipped whip. And all the while she
lashed it the statue sighed and groaned like a living being, and
the tears ran down its stone cheeks as though it were a suffering
Christian. By-and-by the queen rested for a moment, and said,
panting, “Will you give me the thread of gold?” and the statue
answered “No.” Whereupon she fell to raining blows upon it as she
had done before.
So she continued, now beating the statue and now asking it whether
it would give her the thread of gold, to which the statue always
answered “No,” and all the while the prince stood gazing and
wondering. By-and-by the queen wearied of what she was doing, and
thrust the steel-tipped lash back into her bosom again, upon which
the prince, seeing that she was done, hurried back to the garden
where she had left him and pretended to be gathering the golden
fruit and jewel flowers.
The queen said nothing to him good or bad, except to command him
to grind at the great stone mill as he had done on the other side
of the water. Thereupon the prince did as she bade, and presently
the brazen boat came skimming over the water more swiftly than
the wind. Again the queen and the prince entered it, and again it
carried them to the other side whence they had come.
[Illustration]
No sooner had the queen set foot upon the shore than she stooped
and gathered up a handful of sand. Then, turning as quick as
lightning, she flung it into the prince’s face. “Be a black dog,”
she cried in a loud voice, “and join your comrades!”
And now it was that the ring that the prince’s mother had given him
stood him in good stead. But for it he would have become a black
dog like those others, for thus it had happened to all before him
who had ferried the witch queen over the water. So she expected to
see him run away yelping, as those others had done; but the prince
remained a prince, and stood looking her in the face.
When the queen saw that her magic had failed her she grew as pale
as death, and fell to trembling in every limb. She turned and
hastened quickly away, and the prince followed her wondering, for
he neither knew the mischief she had intended doing him, nor how
his ring had saved him from the fate of those others.
So they came back up the stairs and out through the stone wall into
the palace garden. The queen pressed her hand against the stone and
it turned back into its place again. Then, beckoning to the prince,
she hurried away down the garden. Before he followed he picked up
a coal that lay near by, and put a cross upon the stone; then he
hurried after her, and so came to the palace once more.
By this time the cocks were crowing, and the dawn of day was just
beginning to show over the roof-tops and the chimney-stacks of the
town.
As for the queen, she had regained her composure, and, bidding the
prince wait for her a moment, she hastened to her chamber. There
she opened her book of magic, and in it she soon found who the
prince was and how the ring had saved him.
When she had learned all that she wanted to know she put on a
smiling face and came back to him. “Ah, prince,” said she, “I well
know who you are, for your coming to my country is no secret to me.
I have shown you strange things to-night. I will unfold all the
wonder to you another time. Will you not come back and sup with me
again?”
“Yes,” said the prince, “I will come whensoever you bid me;” for he
was curious to know the secret of the statue and the strange things
he had seen.
“And will you not give me a pledge of your coming?” said the queen,
still smiling.
“What pledge shall I give you,” said the prince.
“Give me the ring that is upon your finger,” said the queen; and
she smiled so bewitchingly that the prince could not have refused
her had he desired to do so.
Alas for him! He thought no evil, but, without a word, drew off the
ring and gave it to the queen, and she slipped it upon her finger.
“O fool!” she cried, laughing a wicked laugh, “O fool! to give away
that in which your safety lay!” As she spoke she dipped her fingers
into a basin of water that stood near by and dashed the drops into
the prince’s face. “Be a raven,” she cried, “and a raven remain!”
In an instant the prince was a prince no longer, but a coal-black
raven. The queen snatched up a sword that lay near by and struck
at him to kill him. But the raven-prince leaped aside and the blow
missed its aim.
By good luck a window stood open, and before the queen could strike
again he spread his wings and flew out of the open casement and
over the house-tops, and was gone.
On he flew and on he flew until he came to the old man’s house, and
so to the room where his foster-father himself was sitting. He lit
upon the ground at the old man’s feet and tried to tell him what
had befallen, but all that he could say was “Croak! croak!”
[Illustration]
“What brings this bird of ill omen?” said the old man, and he
drew his sword to kill it. He raised his hand to strike, but the
raven did not try to fly away as he had expected, but bowed his
neck to receive the stroke. Then the old man saw that the tears
were running down from the raven’s eyes, and he held his hand.
“What strange thing is this?” he said. “Surely nothing but the
living soul weeps; and how, then, can this bird shed tears?” So
he took the raven up and looked into his eyes, and in them he saw
the prince’s soul. “Alas!” he cried, “my heart misgives me that
something strange has happened. Tell me, is this not my foster-son,
the prince?”
The raven answered “Croak!” and nothing else; but the good old man
understood it all, and the tears ran down his cheeks and trickled
over his beard. “Whether man or raven, you shall still be my son,”
said he, and he held the raven close in his arms and caressed it.
He had a golden cage made for the bird, and every day he would walk
with it in the garden, talking to it as a father talks to his son.
One day when they were thus in the garden together a strange
lady came towards them down the pathway. Over her head and face
was drawn a thick veil, so that the two could not tell who she
was. When she came close to them she raised the veil, and the
raven-prince saw that her face was the living likeness of the
queen’s; and yet there was something in it that was different. It
was the second sister of the queen, and the old man knew her and
bowed before her.
“Listen,” said she. “I know what the raven is, and that it is the
prince, whom the queen has bewitched. I also know nearly as much of
magic as she, and it is that alone that has saved me so long from
ill. But danger hangs close over me; the queen only waits for the
chance to bewitch me; and some day she will overpower me, for she
is stronger than I. With the prince’s aid I can overcome her and
make myself forever safe, and it is this that has brought me here
to-day. My magic is powerful enough to change the prince back into
his true shape again, and I will do so if he will aid me in what
follows, and this is it: I will conjure the queen, and by-and-by
a great eagle will come flying, and its plumage will be as black
as night. Then I myself will become an eagle, with black-and-white
plumage, and we two will fight in the air. After a while we will
both fall to the ground, and then the prince must cut off the head
of the black eagle with a knife I shall give him. Will you do
this,” said she, turning to the raven, “if I transform you to your
true shape?”
The raven bowed his head and said “Croak!” And the sister of the
queen knew that he meant yes.