persuading him that she was not a ghost, until the coffin with the
faggot inside it was taken up, and Grognon's malice discovered But
even then, the king was so weak a man, that the queen soon made him
believe he had been cheated, that the princess was really dead, and
that this was a false Graciosa. Without more ado, he abandoned his
daughter to her stepmother's will.
Grognon, transported with joy, dragged her to a dark prison, took away
her clothes, made her dress in rags, feed on bread and water, and
sleep upon straw. Forlorn and hopeless, Graciosa dared not now call
upon Percinet; she doubted if he still loved her enough to come to her
aid.
Meantime, Grognon had sent for a fairy, who was scarcely less
malicious than herself. "I have here," said she, "a little wretch of a
girl for whom I wish to find all sorts of difficult tasks; pray assist
me in giving her a new one every day."
The fairy promised to think of it, and soon brought a skein as thick
as four persons, yet composed of thread so fine, that it broke if you
only blew upon it, and so tangled that it had neither beginning nor
end. Grognon, delighted, sent for her poor prisoner.
"There, miss, teach your clumsy fingers to unwind this skein, and if
you break a single thread I will flay you alive. Begin when you like,
but you must finish at sunset, or it will be the worse for you." Then
she sent her to her miserable cell, and treble-locked the door.
Graciosa stood dismayed, turning the skein over and over, and breaking
hundreds of threads each time. "Ah! Percinet," she cried in despair,
"come and help me, or at least receive my last farewell."
Immediately Percinet stood beside her, having entered the cell as
easily as if he carried the key in his pocket. "Behold me, princess,
ready to serve you, even though you forsook me." He touched the skein
with his wand, and it untangled itself, and wound itself up in perfect
order. "Do you wish anything more, madam?" asked he coldly.
"Percinet, Percinet, do not reproach me; I am only too unhappy."
"It is your own fault. Come with me, and make us both happy." But she
said nothing, and the fairy-prince disappeared.
At sunset, Grognon eagerly came to the prison-door with her three
keys, and found Graciosa smiling and fair, her task all done. There
was no complaint to make, yet Grognon exclaimed that the skein was
dirty, and boxed the princess's ears till her rosy cheeks turned
yellow and blue. Then she left her, and overwhelmed the fairy with
reproaches.
"Find me, by to-morrow, something absolutely impossible for her to
do."
The fairy brought a great basket full of feathers, plucked from every
kind of bird--nightingales, canaries, linnets, larks, doves, thrushes,
peacocks, ostriches, pheasants, partridges, magpies, eagles--in fact,
if I told them all over, I should never come to an end; and all these
feathers were so mixed up together, that they could not be
distinguished.
"See," said the fairy, "even one of ourselves would find it difficult
to separate these, and arrange them as belonging to each sort of bird.
Command your prisoner to do it; she is sure to fail."
Grognon jumped for joy, sent for the princess, and ordered her to take
her task, and finish it, as before, by set of sun.
Graciosa tried patiently, but she could see no difference in the
feathers; she threw them all back again into the basket, and began to
weep bitterly. "Let me die," said she, "for death only will end my
sorrows. Percinet loves me no longer; if he did, he would already have
been here."
"Here I am, my princess," cried a voice from under the basket; and the
fairy-prince appeared. He gave three taps with his wand--the feathers
flew by millions out of the basket, and arranged themselves in little
heaps, each belonging to a different bird.
"What do I not owe you?" cried Graciosa.
"Love me!" answered the prince, tenderly, and said no more.
When Grognon arrived, she found the task done. She was furious at the
fairy, who was as much astonished as herself at the result of their
malicious contrivances. But she promised to try once more; and for
several days employed all her industry in inventing a box, which, she
said, the prisoner must be forbidden on any account to open. "Then,"
added the cunning fairy, "of course, being such a disobedient and
wicked girl, as you say, she will open it, and the result will
satisfy you to your heart's content."
Grognon took the box, and commanded Graciosa to carry it to her
castle, and set it on a certain table, in an apartment she named, but
not upon any account, to open it or examine its contents.
Graciosa departed. She was dressed like any poor peasant, in a cotton
gown, a woollen hood and wooden shoes; yet, as she walked along,
people took her for a queen in disguise, so lovely were her looks and
ways. But being weak with imprisonment, she soon grew weary, and,
sitting down upon the edge of a little wood, took the box upon her
lap. Suddenly a wonderful desire seized her to open it.
"I will take nothing out, I will touch nothing," said she to herself,
"but I must see what is inside."
Without reflecting on the consequences, she lifted up the lid, and
instantly there jumped out a number of little men and little women,
carrying little tables and chairs, little dishes, and little musical
instruments. The whole company were so small, that the biggest giant
among them was scarcely the height of a finger. They leaped into the
green meadow, separated into various bands, and began dancing and
singing, eating and drinking, to Graciosa's wonder and delight. But
when she recollected herself, and wished to get them into the box
again, they all scampered away, played at hide-and-seek in the wood,
and by no means could she catch a single one.
Again, in her distress, she called upon Percinet, and again he
appeared; and, with a single touch of his wand, sent all the little
people back into the box. Then, in his chariot, drawn by stags, he
took her to the castle, where she did all that she had been commanded,
and returned in safety, to her stepmother, who was more furious than
ever. If a fairy could be strangled, Grognon certainly would have done
it in her rage. At last, she resolved to ask help no more, but to work
her own wicked will upon Graciosa.
She caused to be dug a large hole in the garden, and taking the
princess there, showed her the stone which covered it.
"Underneath this stone lies a great treasure; lift it up, and you will
see."
Graciosa obeyed; and while she was standing at the edge of the pit,
Grognon pushed her in, and let the stone fall down again upon her,
burying her alive. After this, there seemed no more hope for the poor
princess.
"O Percinet," cried she, "you are avenged. Why did I not return your
love, and marry you! Still, death will be less bitter, if only you
regret me a little."
While she spoke, she saw through the blank darkness a glimmer of
light; it came through a little door. She remembered what Percinet had
said: that she would never return to the fairy palace, until after she
was buried. Perhaps this final cruelty of Grognon would be the end of
her sorrows. So she took courage, crept through the little door, and
lo! she came out into a beautiful garden, with long alleys,
fruit-trees, and flower-beds. Well she knew it, and well she knew the
glitter of the rock-crystal walls. And there, at the palace-gate,
stood Percinet, and the queen, his mother, and the princesses, his
sisters. "Welcome, Graciosa!" cried they all; and Graciosa, after all
her sufferings, wept for joy.
The marriage was celebrated with great splendour; and all the fairies,
for a thousand leagues round, attended it. Some came in chariots drawn
by dragons, or swans, or peacocks; some were mounted upon floating
clouds, or globes of fire. Among the rest, appeared the very fairy who
had assisted Grognon to torment Graciosa. When she discovered that
Grognon's poor prisoner was now Prince Percinet's bride, she was
overwhelmed with confusion, and entreated her to forget all that had
passed, because she really was ignorant who she had been so cruelly
afflicting.
"But I will make amends for all the evil that I have done," said the
fairy; and, refusing to stay for the wedding-dinner, she remounted her
chariot, drawn by two terrible serpents, and flew to the palace of
Graciosa's father. There, before either king, or courtiers, or
ladies-in-waiting could stop her--even had they wished to do it, which
remains doubtful--she came behind the wicked Grognon, and twisted her
neck, just as a cook does a barn-door fowl. So Grognon died and was
buried, and nobody was particularly sorry for the same.
THE IRON STOVE.
In the days when magic was still of some avail, a king's son was
enchanted by an old witch, and compelled to spend his life sitting
inside a great Iron Stove in a wood. There he passed many years, and
nobody could release him.
Once a king's daughter came into the wood. She had gone astray, and
could not find her father's kingdom again; and having wandered about
for nine days, at last she stood before the Iron Stove. Then a voice
came out of it, and said, "Whence do you come, and where do you want
to go?"
She answered, "I have wandered from my father's kingdom, and lost
myself, and cannot get home again."
Then the voice spoke out of the Iron Stove: "I will help you home
again, and that, too, in a short time, if you will promise to do what
I desire. I am a greater prince than you are a princess, and I wish to
marry you."
She was very much frightened, and thought, "Oh, what shall I do! How
can I marry an Iron Stove?"
However, as she wanted very much to go home to her father, she
promised what was demanded of her. "Very well," said the voice "you
must come again, and bring a knife with you, and scrape a hole in the
iron."
And the Iron Stove gave her for a companion something, or
somebody--she was not quite sure what--who walked by her side and did
not speak, but took her safe home within two hours. Then there was
great joy in her father's palace, and the old king fell on her neck,
and kissed her many times. But she was very sorrowful, and said: "Dear
father, you little know what has happened to me; I should never have
come home again out of the great wild wood, if I had not passed by an
Iron Stove. But I had to promise faithfully that I would return back
to it, and marry it."
The old king was so terrified that he nearly fell into a swoon; for he
had only this one child. They therefore consulted together, and
decided to send, not the princess, but a miller's daughter, who was
very beautiful; and leading her out, they gave her a knife, and told
her how she was to scrape the Iron Stove. When she reached the wood,
she scraped away for four-and-twenty hours, but could not make the
slightest impression. But when day began to break, a voice in the Iron
Stove called out, "It seems to me that it is day out there."
She answered: "It seems so to me too; I think I hear my father's mill
turning."
"Oh, then, you are a miller's daughter; go straight back and send the
king's daughter here!"
Then she returned and told the old king that the Iron Stove would not
have her; he wanted the princess only. The old king was greatly
frightened, and the princess wept. But they had still a swineherd's
daughter, who was still more beautiful than the miller's girl; so they
gave her a piece of gold, in order that she might be persuaded to go,
instead of the king's daughter, to the Iron Stove. She was taken to
the wood as before, and had also to scrape for four-and-twenty hours;
but she could make no impression.
Now, when dawn broke, a voice called out of the Stove, "It seems to me
it is day out there."
Then she answered, "It seems so to me too; I think I hear my father's
little horn sounding."
"So you are the swineherd's daughter; go away directly, and bid the
king's daughter come, and tell her it shall happen to her as I
forewarned her; if she does not come, everything in the kingdom shall
fall to pieces and tumble down, and no stone remain upon another."
When the king's daughter heard this, she began to cry; but there was
nothing else to be done--she must keep her promise. She took leave of
her father, put a knife in her pocket, and went out to the Iron Stove
in the wood. When she arrived there, she began to scrape and scrape;
the iron yielded, and in two hours she had already scraped a little
hole. She looked in and saw a most beautiful youth: oh! he shone so
with gold and precious stones, that he pleased her to the very bottom
of her heart. She scraped away faster than ever, till she made the
hole so large that he was able to get out.
Then he said, "You are mine, and I am yours, you have freed me, and
you are my bride."
He wished to take her home to his kingdom, but she begged that she
might go once more to see her father; and the prince gave her leave,
on condition that she should speak no more than three words with him,
and come back again. So she went home; but, alas! being a little
chatter-box, she spoke more than three words. The Iron Stove
disappeared instantly, and was removed far away, over glass mountains
and sharp swords; but the king's son, being now freed, was not shut up
in it.
The princess took leave of her father, and took some money with her,
but not much, and went again into the great wood. There she looked
everywhere for the Iron Stove, but it was not to be found.
She sought it for nine days, until her hunger was so great that she
did not know what to do; for she had eaten all the food she could
find, and had nothing left to keep her alive. At evening-tide she
climbed up into a little tree, and purposed spending the night there,
for fear of the wild beasts. But when midnight came she saw afar off a
little glimmering light, and thinking, "Oh! there I should be safe,"
climbed down and went towards it.
Then she came to a little old house, overgrown with grass, with a
little heap of wood before the door. Wondering how it came there, she
looked in through the window, and saw nothing inside but a number of
fat little frogs, and a table beautifully spread. There were on it
roast meats and wines, and the plates and cups were all of silver. So
she took heart, and knocked. Immediately the fattest frog called out--
"Maiden sweet and small,
Hutzelbein I call;
Hutzelbein's little dog.
Creep about and see
Who this can be."
Then a little frog came and opened the door for her; and as soon as
she came in, the frogs all bade her welcome, and persuaded her to sit
down. They asked--"Whence do you come? where do you want to go?"
Then she told them all that had happened to her, and how, because she
had disobeyed the command not to speak to her father more than three
words, the Stove had disappeared, as well as the king's son; now she
was determined to seek him, and to wander over mountain and valley
till she found him.
The old fat frog said--
"Maiden sweet and small,
Hutzelbein I call;
Hutzelbein's little dog,
Creep about and see;
Bring the great box to me."
Then the little frog went and brought the box. Afterwards they gave
the princess food and drink, and took her to a beautifully-made bed,
all of silk and velvet; she laid herself in it, and slept peacefully.
When day came she arose, and the old frog gave her three needles out
of the great box, and told her to take them with her. They would be
very necessary to her, for she would have to go over a high glass
mountain, and three sharp swords, and a great sea; if she passed all
those, she would recover her dearest prince. The frog also gave her,
besides the three needles, other gifts, which she was to take great
care of--namely, a plough-wheel, and three nuts.
With these she set off, and when she came to the slippery glass
mountain, she stuck the three needles into it as she walked--some
before her feet, and some behind--and so managed to get across. When
she was on the other side, she hid the needles, in a place which she
had noticed particularly, and went on her way. Afterwards she came to
the sharp-cutting swords, but she set herself on her plough-wheel and
rolled safely over them. At last she came before a great lake, which
she had to sail across, and when she had done so she saw a great
castle. She went in and said she was a poor maiden, who wished very
much to hire herself out, if she might be taken in there as a servant.
For the frogs had told her that the king's son, whom she had released
out of the Iron Stove in the great wood, dwelt there; so she was
content to be taken as kitchen-maid, for very small pay.
Now the king's son had thought the princess was dead; and there was
now with him another maiden, whom he had been persuaded he ought to
marry, which grieved the poor kitchen-maid very much.
In the evening, when she had washed up the dishes, and had done all
her work, she felt in her pocket, and found the three nuts which the
old frog had given her. She bit one open, and was going to eat the
kernel, when, behold, inside it was the most beautiful dress
imaginable--so beautiful that the bride soon heard of it, came and
asked to see it, and wanted to buy it, saying it was no dress for a
kitchen-maid. But the kitchen-maid thought differently, and refused to
sell it, but offered to give it as a present, if the bride would grant
her one favour--namely, to sleep one night on the mat outside the
bridegroom's door. The bride gave her leave, because the dress was so
beautiful, and she had none like it.
Now when it was evening, she said to her bridegroom: "The foolish
kitchen-maid wants to sleep on the mat outside your door."
"If you are content, I am," said he.
But the bride gave him a glass of wine, in which she had put a
sleeping draught; so that he slept so soundly, nothing could wake him.
While, outside the door, the princess wept the whole night, saying: "I
have released you out of the wild wood--out of an Iron Stove; in
seeking you, I have gone over a glass mountain, over three sharp
swords, and over a great lake; yet, now that I find you, you will not
hear me."
Next evening, when she had washed up everything, she bit the second
nut open; and inside it was a far more beautiful dress than the first
which, when the bride saw, she wished to buy also. But the girl again
refused to take money and again begged that she might spend the night
outside the bridegroom's door. Once more, the bride gave him a
sleeping-draught, and he slept so soundly, that he could hear nothing.
But the kitchen-maid wept the whole night long, crying: "I have
released you out of a wild wood, and out of an Iron Stove; and have
gone over a glass mountain, over three sharp swords, and over a great
lake, before I found you; and yet, when I find you, you will not hear
me."
The third evening, she bit open the third nut; and there was in it a
still more beautiful dress, which shone stiff with pure gold. When the
bride saw it, she wished more earnestly than ever to have it; but the
kitchen-maid would only give it to her on condition that she might
sleep, for the third time, on the mat at the bridegroom's door. But
this time the prince was cautious, and left the sleeping-draught
untouched. Now, when she began to weep, and to call out, "Dearest
treasure, I have released you out of the horrible wild wood, and out
of an Iron Stove," the king's son sprang up, crying out: "This is my
right true love--she is mine, and I am hers." Then he declared he
would not marry the other bride, whom he did not love; and so, still
in the middle of the night, he got into a carriage with the
kitchen-maid, and drove away.
When they came to the great lake, they sailed over; and at the three
sharp swords, they seated themselves on the plough-wheel; and at the
glass mountain, they found the three needles, and stuck them in step
by step. So they came at last to the little old house; but, as they
went in, lo! it changed to a great castle; the frogs turned to
princes and princesses, all kings' children, and received them both
with great joy. There the wedding was celebrated, and they remained in
the castle, which was much larger than that which belonged to the
princess's father. But as the old man lamented very much his
daughter's loss, and his own loneliness, they soon went and fetched
him home to themselves. So they had two kingdoms, instead of one, and
lived happily together all their days.
THE INVISIBLE PRINCE.
There was a king and queen who were dotingly fond of their only son,
notwithstanding that he was equally deformed in mind and person. The
king was quite sensible of the evil disposition of his son, but the
queen, in her excessive fondness, saw no fault whatever in her dear
Furibon, as he was named. The surest way to win her favour was to
praise Furibon for charms he did not possess. When he came of age to
have a governor, the king made choice of a prince who had an ancient
right to the crown, but was not able to support it. This prince had a
son, named Leander, handsome, accomplished, amiable--in every respect
the opposite of Prince Furibon. The two were frequently together,
which only made the deformed prince more repulsive.
One day, certain ambassadors having arrived from a far country, the
princes stood in a gallery to see them; when, taking Leander for the
king's son, they made their obeisance to him, treating Furibon as a
mere dwarf, at which the latter was so offended that he drew his
sword, and would have done them a mischief had not the king just then
appeared. As it was, the affair produced a quarrel, which ended in
Leander's being sent to a far-away castle belonging to his father.
There, however, he was quite happy, for he was a great lover of
hunting, fishing, and walking: he understood painting, read much, and
played upon several instruments; so that he was glad to be freed from
the fantastic humours of Furibon. One day as he was walking in the
garden, finding the heat increase, he retired into a shady grove, and
began to play upon the flute to amuse himself. As he played, he felt
something wind about his leg, and looking down saw a great adder: he
took his handkerchief, and catching it by the head, was going to kill
it. But the adder, looking steadfastly in his face, seemed to beg his
pardon. At this instant one of the gardeners happened to come to the
place where Leander was, and spying the snake, cried out to his
master, "Hold him fast, sir; it is but an hour since we ran after him
to kill him: it is the most mischievous creature in the world."
Leander, casting his eyes a second time upon the snake, which was
speckled with a thousand extraordinary colours, perceived the poor
creature still looked upon him with an aspect that seemed to implore
compassion, and never tried in the least to defend itself.
"Though thou hast such a mind to kill it," said he to the gardener,
"yet, as it came to me for refuge, I forbid thee to do it any harm;
for I will keep it, and when it has cast its beautiful skin I will let
it go." He then returned home, and carrying the snake with him, put it
into a large chamber, the key of which he kept himself, and ordered
bran, milk, and flowers to be given to it, for its delight and
sustenance; so that never was snake so happy. Leander went sometimes
to see it, and when it perceived him it made haste to meet him,
showing him all the little marks of love and gratitude of which a poor
snake was capable, which did not a little surprise him, though,
however, he took no further notice of it.
In the meantime all the court ladies were extremely troubled at his
absence, and he was the subject of all their discourse. "Alas!" cried
they, "there is no pleasure at court since Leander is gone, of whose
absence the wicked Furibon is the cause!" Furibon also had his
parasites, for his power over the queen made him feared; they told him
what the ladies said, which enraged him to such a degree that in his
passion he flew to the queen's chamber, and vowed he would kill
himself before her face if she did not find means to destroy Leander.
The queen, who also hated Leander, because he was handsomer than her
son, replied that she had long looked upon him as a traitor, and
therefore would willingly consent to his death. To which purpose she
advised Furibon to go a-hunting with some of his confidants, and
contrive it so that Leander should make one of the party.
"Then," said she, "you may find some way to punish him for pleasing
everybody."