the right side, one on the left and one out of the middle. It was the
same with the wine of youth; three sips were missing, one from the
top, one from the bottom, and one from the middle.
Somebody must have been there. The Fairy Aurora grew still more
sorrowful; it seemed to her as if she missed something, yet she did
not know what or where.
The water in the fountain was turbid. Water! Somebody has taken water
away from here! And the Fairy Aurora was wrathful. How had any one
been able to enter unperceived? Where were all the sharp-eyed guards?
The giants, the dragons, the iron-shod lions, the fairies, the
flowers, and the sun--what had they all been doing? Nobody had
watched! Had nobody been at his post? The Fairy Aurora now fell into a
perfect rage. "Lions! Dragons! Giants! set forth, pursue, catch, seize
and bring him back." Such were the orders of the Fairy Aurora in the
fury of her wrath. The command was issued and set her whole realm in
commotion, but Petru had fled so swiftly that not even the sunbeams
could overtake him. All returned sorrowfully; all brought sad tidings.
Petru had crossed the frontiers of the kingdom, had gone where the
Fairy Aurora's guards possessed no power.
The fairy queen now forgot her anger in her grief, and sent forth the
Sun to make seven days into one, to search, gaze, and bring tidings.
During this seven-fold long day the Fairy Aurora did nothing but watch
the course of the Sun; she gazed and gazed till the tears began to
stream from her eyes, I don't know whether from looking so long or
from her great sorrow and yearning.
Lo and behold! On the seventh day the Sun came home,--red, tired, and
sad. More bad news. Alas! Petru was where the sunbeams could not
penetrate.
When the Fairy Aurora saw that this last trial had also been vain, she
gave strict orders throughout her whole country that the fairies
should no longer smile, the flowers no longer send forth fragrance,
the breezes no longer blow, the springs no more pour forth clear
waters, nor the sunbeams shine. Then she commanded that the black veil
of darkness should be let down between the world and her empire, a
veil so thick that only a single sunbeam should pierce it, to convey
the tidings that the sun would not move through the sky until the
person who had taken the water from the fountain should come. And this
news went through the darkened world. The people agreed that the great
light had been solely for the emperor's eye-sight. Nobody in the world
saw except the emperor, nobody perceived the annoyances of the
darkness except the emperor, and nobody was more unhappy than the
emperor. So he advised and commanded his sons, Florea and Costan, to
set out and free the world from darkness.
Whoever lies once, will lie a second time; Florea mounted his horse
and rode by the way Petru had smoothed to the Fairy Aurora's kingdom.
When he had nearly reached her court, the fairy felt that some
stranger was approaching.
"Is any body coming?" she asked, rather sharply.
"Some one is coming," replied the dragons who mounted guard at the
bridge.
"How is he coming? Over or under the bridge?"
The bridge was what we know. Florea passed under it.
"The hero is passing under the bridge!" replied the dragons, somewhat
amused.
"See to him, or the light will become black to you," said the fairy,
receiving Florea at his entrance. Florea was thrilled by the sight of
so much beauty.
"Welcome, my hero! Did you steal the water?"
"Yes, you are right, I took it."
"Did you drink the wine?"
Florea remained silent.
"Did you eat the bread?"
"No," said Florea.
"Did you bite me?"
Florea was silent.
"Then may you lose your sight! I'll teach you to tell another
falsehood!" said the fairy, angrily, giving Florea two cuffs, one on
the right ear and the other on the left, till every thing grew as
dark before his eyes as mortal sin. Two dragons led the blind prince
out of the palace, and the matter was settled.
Costan now set out to follow his brother's example. He set out for the
Fairy Aurora's palace, reached it, and fared just as Florea had
done--he, too, left it a blind man.
There was now not a single ray of light in the whole earth. The world
was deprived of light on account of one emperor's eyes.
After the Fairy Aurora had found that she could not recover Petru, she
summoned every one in her whole domain; the fairies, the flowers, in
short, all her subjects. Even the sun himself was obliged to come down
from the sky, unharness the horses from his chariot, lead them to the
stable, and go to the Fairy Aurora's palace. When all were thus
assembled, the beautiful queen gave them no further commands, but in
her grief and suffering bade farewell to all her subjects, thanked
them for their love and confidence, and sent them out into the world,
that each one might act according to his own ideas, keeping only two
lions, two large and two small dragons, and two giants, that she might
have somebody to guard the bridge. She sent all the fairies into the
garden, telling them not to come back to the court till she was happy
once more, then gave orders that the flowers should henceforth cease
to smell so sweet that every human being would carry them away, the
winds wail so piteously that no mortal could help weeping to hear
them, the springs send forth bitter waters, and the sun daily cast
seven times seven cold rays into the world. After saying all these
things, she went to the great wheel on which the threads of human life
are wound, stopped it, so that it could no longer turn, and human
existence became changeless. Then the Fairy Aurora hid herself from
the world in the darkest and dreariest corner of her whole palace.
The big and little dragons and the giants went out into the wide world
and hid themselves for very shame in the most secluded caves and
deserts, so that they could no longer be seen by any human eye; the
lions shook the gold from their manes, the iron from their teeth and
paws, and became furious with rage; the fairies concealed themselves
in the garden; the flowers, springs, and winds obeyed the Fairy
Aurora's will; and the cold rays of the sun, lacking both warmth and
light, can still be seen in the sky on summer nights. Human life was
at a stand, time ceased to move. Two lions, two big and two little
dragons, and two giants mounted guard at the bridge. How long the
Fairy Aurora's kingdom remained in this state is not known and can not
be told. Much time passed without moving.
Holy Friday, too, at last noticed that the Fairy Aurora was angry; the
scanty sunbeams, and the whirlwinds which shook the whole world, had
brought her the tidings. She was half angry, half pleased,--angry
because she could no longer see around her, and pleased because her
brave, handsome prince had escaped and her beautiful neighbor was
sorrowful. She was provoked, too, because her jug with the wonderful
water was broken. But when Holy Friday saw that the darkness did not
lessen, the light did not return, and even the very last sunbeam
vanished from the earth, she realized that the Fairy Aurora was not
jesting, and she ordered the whirlwinds to set out together and remove
the great veil on the frontiers of the empire, that light might enter
the world. The winds departed, each one more furious, more fierce,
more terrible than the other--as whirlwinds usually are. It seemed as
if they were taking the world away with them, and meant to tarry on it
no longer. They reached the veil and dashed against it. Oh, how strong
they were! But the veil did not stir. The whirlwinds blew against it
again and again, three times in succession, then they gave up the
attempt. They saw that the veil was firmer than the earth itself.
After lingering a few moments they returned, wearied and covered with
disgrace, and once more circled around the earth in their wild rage.
You can imagine what happened to every thing that came in their way.
Nothing good at any rate. Alas! alas!
The whirlwinds returned to Holy Friday and told her about the veil.
Holy Friday was now not only half-angry, but wholly enraged, so she
sent the whirlwinds to the emperor's court to tell Petru he must
intercede with the Fairy Aurora and promise to do whatever she asked,
that light might return to the world. The whirlwinds set out
again--this time somewhat more slowly and peacefully, as people depart
when engaged on a good errand to a friendly person. They reached the
palace. Petru was not there. The whirlwinds began to act somewhat
more willfully. Petru had perished on the way. The whirlwinds circled
around the palace from the left, then from the right, then from the
center, turned it, twisted it, raised it, and hurled it, till there
was nothing left of it. Then they returned to Holy Friday's hut with
the news of Petru's death.
"Go into the world, every one of you, move every thing that can be
moved, and find Petru. Bring him to me dead or alive!" said Holy
Friday, after she had heard the sad tidings.
For three days and three nights the whirlwinds did not stop blowing.
Thrice they uprooted trees, drove the rivers from their beds,
dispersed the clouds by beating them against the rocks, swept the
bottom of the sea and destroyed the surface of the earth. It was all
in vain. They came back to the house, each one more tired, angry and
mortified than the other.
Only one still lingered: the Spring wind, the soft, lazy, warm Spring
wind. What had become of him? They all knew that he could not have
accomplished much. Who knows? Weary as he was, he had perhaps lain
down somewhere in the shade. Nobody troubled his head any more about
him. Suddenly, after a short time, when all were racking their brains
to discover Petru, the leaves began to stir gently.
Holy Friday felt the soft air, and went out. "What news do you bring?"
she asked the favorite of all the winds.
"Sad, very sad, yet good,"--whispered the young wind. "After I grew
tired of so much searching, destroying, and pulling, I reached an
empty well, and, being rid of my brothers, thought I would rest a
while before setting off for home."
"And you found Petru at the bottom of the well?" cried Holy Friday,
joyfully.
"Yes, and the bay by his side."
"May your speech be sweet, your breezes soft, and may you ever bring
good tidings!" said Holy Friday; then she commanded him to hasten to
Holy Thursday and tell her she must be ready with the gold crucible,
for Petru was in a sad case:--from there the Spring wind was to rush
to Holy Wednesday and tell her she must come to the well with the
water of life. "Do you understand?" said Holy Friday. "And go as fast
as you can," and they all set off together.
They reached the deserted well. There was nothing left of Petru except
bones and ashes. Holy Wednesday took the bones and fitted them
together--not a single one was missing. Holy Friday ordered the
whirlwinds to search the bottom of the well, turn up all the dust, and
collect Petru's ashes. This was done. Holy Thursday made a fire,
gathered the dew from the flowers into the gold crucible, and set it
on the flames. When the water began to boil, Holy Wednesday repeated
three spells, looked once to the east, once to the west, once to the
north, and once to the south, and threw the herb of life into the
boiling water. Holy Friday did the same with Petru's ashes. Holy
Thursday counted one, two, three, and took the crucible off the fire.
Petru's ashes and the herb of life were made into a fragrant salve.
The Spring wind blew upon it once and stiffened it, then Petru's
bones were smeared with it seven times from head to foot, seven times
from foot to head, seven times across one way, and seven times across
the other, and, when this was done, up sprang the hero, a hundred
thousand times handsomer, braver, and prouder than before.
"Jump on the horse!" said Holy Friday.
As soon as the bay felt his master on his back, he began to neigh and
stamp. The animal was more spirited than ever.
"Where shall we go?" the horse asked gayly.
"Home," replied Petru.
"How shall we ride?"
"Like a curse."
Petru expressed his thanks for the service done him, and set off; he
rode and rode as fleetly as a curse flies, till he came to the
emperor's court.
Nothing was left of the palace except the ground where it had stood.
No trace of any human being who could have uttered a word or given any
tidings was to be found. At last old Birscha came out of a ruined
cellar. Petru learned what had happened and its cause, turned his bay,
and went back even more swiftly than he had come. He did not even stop
to take breath until he reached the Fairy Aurora's kingdom. The time
that had passed since every thing had been in the condition the queen
had commanded, can not be told in words. It must have been a long
period.
When Petru reached the bridge the sun had only three bright rays,
seven warm, and nine cold ones left; all the others had gradually been
lost.
The Fairy Aurora felt that some remarkable person must be coming, for
it seemed just as it had done when she woke from the dream that had
made her so sad. She was longing for something, she knew not what,
just as she had then.
"Who is coming?" she asked in a low tone.
"Hold firmly, master," said the bay.
Petru struck in the spurs, drew the bridle, and felt nothing until he
was on the other side of the bridge.
"The hero is coming! _Over_ the bridge!" cried the guards, waving
their hats in the air.
The Fairy Aurora did not stir nor speak.
Petru suddenly rushed up to her, clasped her in his arms, and kissed
her--just as fairy princes always kiss bewitching fairies.
The lovely fairy queen felt as she had never felt before. She said
nothing more, asked no more questions, but made a sign to have the bay
led into the stables of the sun, and entered the palace with Petru.
The fairies began to smile merrily, the flowers to smell sweetly, the
springs to pour forth clear waters, the winds to blow cheerily, the
wheel of life whirled faster than a top, the black veil fell, and the
radiant sun rose high in the heavens, higher than it had ever done
before. And in the world there was a light like the sun's, so that for
nine years, nine months, and nine days it was so terribly bright that
nothing could be seen.
Petru rode home, brought back his old father and mother, had a wedding
so magnificent that tidings of it spread through ninety-nine
countries, and became emperor of both kingdoms.
His brothers, Florea and Costan, had their sight restored so that they
might witness Petru's happiness.
This, dear children, was the story of handsome Prince Petru and the
Fairy Aurora, queen of the Land of the Sun.
Petru lived and reigned in peace and health, and who knows whether, by
God's help, he may not be reigning still.
[THE END.]
* * * * *
BY THE
_QUEEN OF ROUMANIA_.
PILGRIM SORROW
A CYCLE OF TALES. TRANSLATED BY HELEN ZIMMERN. SQUARE 16MO. $1.50.
"Like a string of amber beads, each one exquisite by itself,
but seen in perfection when connected with its fellows. They
imprison nymphs of the wood, and naiads of the stream, and
all the sweet and tender graces of nature which she reveals
only to her devoted lovers."--_Pittsburgh Times_.
"The heart experiences of a princess and queen who is also a
true and noble woman."--_Cincinnati Commercial Gazette_.
"The charming tales are full of beautiful thought and
sentiment, and scarcely lack the metrical form to be true
poetry."--_Providence Journal_.
"Wholly attractive and interesting--beautifully
printed."--_Boston Gazette_.
* * * * *