"In days of yore there lived, alone in her castle, a maiden named
Swanhilda. She was the only child of a proud father, lately deceased.
Her mother she had lost when she was but a child; so that the
education of the daughter had fallen wholly into the hands of the
father.
"During the lifetime even of the old knight, many suitors had offered
themselves for Swanhilda; but she seemed to be insensible to every
tender emotion, and dismissed with disdainful haughtiness the whole
body of wooers. Meanwhile she hunted the stag and the board, and
performed squire's service for her gradually declining parent. This
manner of life was so entirely to the taste of the maiden,
notwithstanding that in delicacy of frame, and in bewitching
gracefulness of figure, she gave place to none of her sex, that when
at length her father died, she took upon herself the management of
the castle, and lived aloof in pride and independence, in the very
fashion of an Amazon. Maugre the many refusals which Swanhilda had
already distributed on every side, there still flocked to her loving
knights, eager to wed; but, like their predecessors, they were all
sent drooping home again. The young nobility could at last bear this
treatment no longer; and they, one and all, resolved either to
constrain the supercilious damsel to wedlock, or to make her smart
for a refusal. An embassy was dispatched, charged with notifying this
resolution to the mistress of the castle. Swanhilda heard the
speakers quietly to the end; but her answer was tuned as before, or
indeed rang harsher and more offensive than ever. Turning her back
upon the embassy, she left them to depart, scorned and ashamed.
"In the night following the day upon which this happened, Swanhilda
was disturbed out of her sleep by a noise which seemed to her to
ascend from her chamber floor; but let her strain her eyes as she
might, she could for a long while discern nothing. At length she
observed, in the middle of the room, a straying sparkle of light,
that threw itself over and over like a tumbler, tittering, at the
same time, like a human being. Swanhilda for a while kept herself
quiet; but as the luminous antic ceased not practising his
harlequinade, she peevishly exclaimed--'What buffoon is carrying on
his fooleries here? I desire to be left in peace.' The light vanished
instantly, and Swanhilda already had congratulated herself upon
gaining her point, when suddenly a loud shrilly sound was heard--the
floor of the apartment gave way, and from the gap there arose a table
set out with the choicest viands. It rested upon a lucid body of air,
upon which the tiny attendants skipped with great agility to and fro,
waiting upon seated guests. At first Swanhilda was so amazed that her
breath forsook her; but becoming by degrees somewhat collected, she
observed, to her extreme astonishment, that an effigy of herself sat
at the strange table, in the midst of the numerous train of suitors,
whom she had so haughtily dismissed. The attendants presented to the
young knights the daintiest dishes, the savour of which came
sweetly-smelling enough to the nostrils of the proud damsel. As
often, however, as the knights were helped to meat and drink, the
figure of Swanhilda at the board was presented by an ill-favoured
Dwarf, who stood as her servant behind her, with an empty basket,
whereat the suitor's broke out into wild laughter. She also soon
became aware, that as many courses were served up to the guests as
she had heretofore dispensed refusals, and the amount of these was
certainly not small.
"Swanhilda, weary of the absurd phantasmagoria, was going to speak
again; but to her horror she discovered that the power of speech had
left her. She had for some time been struck with a kind of whispering
and tittering about her. In order to make out whence this proceeded,
she leaned out of her bed, and, peering between the silk curtains,
perceived two smart diminutive cupbearers, in garments of blue, with
green aprons, and small yellow caps. She had scarcely got sight of
the little gentlemen when their whispering took the character of
audible words; and the dumb Swanhilda was enabled to overhear the
following discourse:
"'But, I pri'thee, tell me, Sweetflower, how this show shall end?'
said one of the two cupbearers,--'thou art, we know, the confidant of
our queen, and, certes, canst disclose to me somewhat of her plans?'
"'That can I, my small-witted Monsieur Silverfine,' answered
Sweetflower. 'Know, therefore, that this sweet and lovely to behold
brute of a girl, is now beginning to suffer the castigation due to
her innumerable offences. Swanhilda has sinned against all maidenly
modesty, has borne herself proud and overbearing towards honourable
gentlemen, and, besides, has most seriously offended our queen.'
"'How so?' enquired Silverfine.
"'By storming on her Barbary steed, like the devil himself, through
the thick of our States' Assembly, pounding the arms and legs of I
don't know how many of our sapient representatives. What makes the
matter worse is, that this happened at the very opening of the diet,
and whilst the grand prelusive symphony of the whole hidden people
was in full burst. We were sitting by hundreds of thousands upon
blades, stalks, and leaves; some of us still actively busied
arranging comfortable seats for the older people in the blue
harebells. For this we had stripped the skins of sixty thousand red
field spiders, and wrought them into canopies and hangings. All our
talented performers had tuned their instruments, scraped, fluted,
twanged, jingled, and shawmed to their hearts' content, and had
resined their fiddlesticks upon the freshest of dewdrops. All at
once, tearing out of the wood, with your leave, or without your
leave, comes this monster of a girl, plump upon upper house and lower
house together. Ah, lack-a-daisy! what a massacre it was! The first
hoof struck a thousand of our prime orators dead upon the spot, the
other three hoofs scattered the Imperial diet in all directions, and,
what is worse than all, tore to pieces a multitude of our exquisite
caps. Our queen was almost frantic at the breach of the peace--she
stamped with her foot, and cried out, "LIGHTNING!" and what that
means we all pretty well know. Just at this time, too, she received
information of the maiden's arrogant behaviour towards her suitors,
and on the instant she determined to put the sinner to her prayers.
We began by devouring every thing clean up, giving her the pleasure
of looking on.'
"'Silly, absurd creatures!' _thought_ Swanhilda, as the little butler
advanced to the table to put on some fresh wine. During his absence
she had time to note how perhaps a dozen other Fairies drew up
through the floor whole pailfuls of wine and smoking meats, which
were conveyed immediately to the table, and there consumed as if by
the wind. She was heartily longing for the day to dawn, that the sun
might dissipate her dream, when the sprightly little speaker came to
his place again.
"'Now we can gossip a little longer,' said Sweetflower. 'My guests
are provided for, and between this and cock-crow--when house and
cellar will be emptied--there's some time yet.'
"Swanhilda uttered (_mentally_) a prodigious imprecation, and turned
herself so violently in the bed, that the little gentlemen were
absolutely terrified.
"'I verily believe we are going to have an earthquake!' said
Silverfine.
"'No such thing!' answered Sweetflower. 'The amiable young lady in
bed there has seen the sport perhaps, and is very likely not
altogether pleased with it.'
"'Don't you think she would speak, if she saw all this wastefulness
going on?' asked Silverfine.
"'Yes, if she could!' chuckled Sweetflower. 'But our queen has been
cruel enough to strike her dumb, whilst she looks upon this
heartbreaking spectacle. If she once wakes, she won't be troubled
again with sleep before cock-crow.'
"'A pretty business!' _thought_ Swanhilda, once more tossing herself
passionately about in her bed.
"'Quite right!' said Sweetflower triumphantly. 'The imp of a girl has
waked up.'
"'Insolent wretches!' said Swanhilda (internally.) 'Brute and imp to
me! Oh, if I could only speak!'
"'Why, the whole fun of the thing is,' said Sweetflower, almost
bursting with laughter, 'just that that wish won't be gratified. Does
the fool of a woman think that she is to trample down our orchestra
with impunity, to put our States' Assembly to flight, and to crush
our very selves into a jelly!'
"'And the unbidden guests divine my very thoughts!' _thought_
Swanhilda. 'Upon my life, it looks as if a spice of omniscience had
really crept under their caps!'
"'Why, of course!' answered Sweetflower.
"'Then will I think no more!' _resolved_ Swanhilda.
"'And there, my prudent damsel, you show a good discretion,' returned
Sweetflower, saluting her with an ironical bow.
"'How will it be, then, with our caps?' enquired Silverfine. 'Are
they to be repaired?'
"'Oh, certainly,' returned Sweetflower; 'and that will cost our
Amazon here more than all. Indeed, the conditions of her punishment
are, to make good the caps, to pledge her troth to one of her
despised suitors, to compensate the rest with magnificent gifts, and,
for the future, never to mount hunter more, but to amble upon a
gentle palfrey, as a lady should. And, till all this is done, am I to
have the teaching of her.'
"'Pretty conditions truly!' thought Swanhilda. 'I would rather die
than keep them.'
"'Just as you please, most worthy madam,' answered Sweetflower; 'but
you'll think better of it yet, perhaps.'
"'It will fall heavy enough upon her,' said Silverfine, 'seeing that
we have it in command to seize upon all the lady's treasures.'
"'Capital, capital!' shouted Sweetflower. 'That's peppering the
punishment truly! For now must this haughty man-hating creature go
about begging, catching and carrying fish to market, and so
submitting herself to the scorn and laughter of all her former
lovers, till her trade makes her rich again. Nothing but luck in
fishing will our queen vouchsafe the audacious madam. Three years are
allowed her. But, in the interim, she must starve and famish like a
white mouse learning to dance.'
"At this moment a monstrous burst of laughter roared from the table.
The guests sang aloud--
"'The last flagon we end,
Swanhilda shall mend;
Huzza, knights, and drink
To the last dollar's chink!'
"As the song ceased, the table descended, the floor closed up, and
stillness was in the room again, as when the lady had first retired
to her couch. The cock crew, and Swanhilda fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * *
"When it left her, the sun already shone high and bright, and played
on her silken bed-curtains. She rubbed her eyes, and seeing every
thing about her in its usual state, she concluded that what had
happened was nothing worse than a feverish dream. She now arose,
began dressing herself, and would have allayed her waking thirst, but
she could find neither glass nor water-pitcher. She called angrily to
her waiting-woman.
"'How come you to forget water, blockhead?' she exclaimed; 'get some
quickly, and then--Breakfast!'
"The attendant departed, shaking her head; for she knew well enough
that every thing had been put in order as usual on the evening
before. She very quickly returned, frightened out of her wits, and
hardly able to speak.
"'Oh my lady! my lady! my lady!' she stammered out.
"'Well, where is the water?'
"'Gone! all drained and dried up! Tub, brook, well--all empty and
dry!'
"'Is it possible?' said Swanhilda. 'Your eyes have surely deceived
you! But never mind--bring up my breakfast. A ham and two Pomeranian
geese-breasts.'
"'Alack! gracious lady!' answered the girl, sobbing, 'every thing in
the house is gone too! The wine-casks lie in pieces on the cellar
floor; the stalls are empty; your favourite horse is away--hay and
corn rotted through. It is shocking!'
"Swanhilda dismissed her, and broke out at first into words wild and
vehement. She checked them; but tears of disappointment and bitter
rage forced their way in spite of her. A visit to her cellar,
store-rooms, and granaries, convinced her of the horrible
transformation which a night had effected in every thing that
belonged to her. She found nothing every where but mould and
sickly-smelling mildew; and was too soon aware that the hideous
images of the night were nothing less than frightful realities. Her
hardened heart stood proof; and since the whole region for leagues
round was turned into a blighted brown heath, she at one resolved to
die of hunger. Ere noon her few servants had deserted the castle, and
Swanhilda herself hungered till her bowels growled again.
"This laudable self-castigation she persevered in for three days
long, when her hunger had increased to such a pitch that she could no
longer remain quiet in the castle. In a state of half consciousness,
she staggered down to the lake, known far and wide by the name of the
Castle mere. Here, on the glassy surface, basked the liveliest
fishes. Swanhilda for a while watched in silence the disport of the
happy creatures, then snatched up a hazel wand lying at her feet,
round the end of which a worm had coiled, and, half maddened by the
joyance of the finny tribe, struck with it into the water. A greedy
fish snapped at the switch. The famishing Swanhilda clutched
hungeringly at it, but found in her hand a piece of offensive
carrion, and nothing more; whilst around, from every side, there rang
such a clatter of commingled mockery and laughter, that Swanhilda
vented a terrible imprecation, and shed once more--a scorching tear.
"'Oh! we shall soon have you tame enough!' said a voice straight
before her, and she recognized it at once for the speaker of that
miserable night. Looking about her, she perceived a moss-rose that
luxuriated upon the rock. In one of the expanded buds sat a little
kicking fellow, with green apron, sky-blue vest, and yellow bonnet.
He was laughing right into the face of the angry miss; and, quaffing
off one little flower-cup after another, filled them bravely again,
and jingled with his tiny bunch of keys, as if he had been grand
butler to the universe.
"'A flavour like a nosegay!' said the malicious rogue. 'Wilt hob-nob
with me, maiden? What do you say? Are we adepts at sacking a house?
'Twill give thee trouble to fill thy cellars again as we found them.
Take heart, girl. If you will come to, and take kindly to your
angling, and do the thing that's handsome by your wooers, you shall
have an eatable dinner yet up at the castle.'
"'Infamous pigmy!' exclaimed Swanhilda, lashing with her rod, as she
spoke, at the little rose. The small buffeteer meanwhile had leaped
down, and, in the turning of a hand, had perched himself upon the
lady's nose, where he drummed an animating march with his heels.
"'Thy nose, I do protest, is excellently soft, thou wicked witch!'
said the rascal. 'If thou wilt now try thy hand at fishing for the
town market, thou shalt be entertained the while with the finest band
of music in the world. Be good and pretty, and take up thy
angling-rod. Trumpets and drums, flutes and clarinets, shall all
strike up together.'
"Swanhilda tried hard to shake the jocular tormentor off, but he kept
his place on the bridge as if he had grown to it. She made a snatch
at him, and he bit her finger.
"'Hark'e, my damsel!' quoth Sweetflower; 'if you are so unmannerly,
'tis time for a lesson. You smarted too little when you were a young
one. We must make all that good now;' and forthwith he settled
himself properly upon her nose, dangling a leg on either side, like a
cavalier in saddle. 'Come, my pretty, be industrious,' continued he;
'get to work, and follow good counsel.' And then he whistled a blithe
and gamesome tune.
"Swanhilda, not heedlessly to prolong her own vexation, dipped the
rod into the water, and immediately saw another gleaming fish
wriggling at its end. A basket, delicately woven of flowers, stood
beside her, half filled with clear water. The fish dropped into it of
themselves. The wee companion beat meanwhile with his feet upon the
wings of the lady's nose, played ten instruments or more at once, and
extemporized a light rambling rhyme, wherein arch gibes and playful
derision of her present forlorn estate were not unmingled with
auguries of a friendlier future.
"'There, you see! where's the distress?' said the urchin, laughing.
'The basket is as full as it can hold. Off with you to the town, and
when your fish are once sold, you may make yourself--some
water-gruel.' With these words the elf leaped into the fish-basket,
crept out again on the other side, plucked a king-cup, took seat in
it, and gave the word--'Forwards!' The flower, on the instant,
displayed its petals. There appeared sail and rudder to the small and
delicate ship, which at once took motion, and sailed gaily through
the air.
"'A prosperous market to you, Swanhilda!' cried Sweetflower, 'behave
discreetly now, and do your tutor justice!'
"Swanhilda, perforce, resigned herself to her destiny. She took her
basket, and carried it home, intending to disguise herself as
completely as possible before making for the town. But all her
clothes lay crumbling into dust. Needs must she then, harassed by
hunger and thirst, begin her weary walk, equipped, as she was, in her
velvet riding-habit.
"Without fatigue, surprised at her celerity--she was in the
market-place. The eyes of all naturally took the direction of the
well-born fisherwoman. Still pity held the tongue of scorn in thrall,
and Swanhilda saw her basket speedily emptied. Once more within her
castle walls, she beheld a running spring in the courtyard, and near
it an earthen pitcher. She filled--drank--and carried the remainder
to the hall, where she found a small fire burning, a pipkin, and a
loaf. She submissively cooked herself a meagre pottage of bread and
water, appeased the cravings of nature, and fell into a sound sleep.
"Morning came, and she awoke with thirst burning afresh. She hastened
to the spring, but fountain and pitcher were no loner there. In their
stead a hoarse laugh greeted her; and in the next instant she
perceived the tiny butler, astride upon a cork, galloping before her
across the courtyard, and addressing his pupil with another snatch of
his derisive song.
"The courage of Swanhilda surmounted her wrath, and she carried her
fish-basket to the lake. It was soon filled, and she again on her way
to market. An amazing multitude of people were already in motion
here, who presently thronged about the market-woman. The basket was
nearly emptied, when two of her old suitors approached. Swanhilda was
confounded, and a blush of deep shame inflamed her countenance.
Curiosity and the pleasure of malice spurred them to accost her; but
the sometime-haughty damsel cast her eyes upon the ground, and in
answer tendered her fish for sale. The knights bought; mixing,
however, ungentle gibes with their good coin. Swanhilda, at the
moment, caught sight of her tutor peeping from a daisy--saluting her
with his little cap, and nodding approbation.
"'I would you were in the kingdom of pepper!' thought Swanhilda, and
in the next instant the fairy was running upon her nose and cheeks,
most unmercifully stamping, and tickling her with a little hair till
she sneezed again.
"'Stay, stay, I must teach thee courtesy, if I can. What! a profane
swearer too! Wish me in the kingdom of pepper! We'll have pepper
growing on thy soft cheeks here. There, there--is that pepper? Thou
art rouged, my lady, ready for a ball!'
"Swanhilda turned upon her homeward way, the adhesive Elf still
tripping ceaselessly about her face, and bore her infliction with a
virtuous patience. In her court and hall she found, as before, the
spring, the bread, and the fire. As before, she satisfied hunger and
thirst, and slept--the sweeter already for her punishment and pain.
"And so passed day after day. The tricky Elf became a less severe,
still trusty schoolmaster. The profits of her trading, under fairy
guardianship, were great to marvelling; and it must be owned that her
aversion to angling craft did not increase in proportion. As time ran
on, she had encountered all her discarded knights, now singly and now
in companies. A year and a half elapsed, and left the relation
between suitors and maiden as at the beginning. At length a chivalric
and gentle knight, noble in person as in birth, ventured to accost
her, loving and reverently as in her brighter days of yore. Abashed,
overcome with shame, the maiden was at the mercy of the light-winged,
blithe, and watchful god, who seized his hour to enthrone himself
upon her heart. She bought the fairy caps and mantles--she made
honourable satisfaction to the knights, and to him whose generous
constancy had won her heart, she gave a willing and a softened hand.
"Upon her wedding day, the QUIET PEOPLE did not fail to adorn the
festival with their radiant presence; albeit the merry creatures
played a strange cross-game on the occasion. The blissful day over,
and the happy bride and bridegroom withdrawing from the banquet and
the dance, the well-pleased chirping, able little tutor hopped before
them, and led them to the hymeneal bower with floral flute, and
gratulatory song!"