Once upon a time there was an old man who had three daughters. All
of them were beautiful, but the youngest, whose name was Rosa, was
not only more lovely, but also more amiable and more intelligent than
the others. Jealous and envious exceedingly were the two sisters when
they found that the fame of Rosa's beauty was greater than the fame of
theirs. They, however, refused to believe that Rosa was really more
lovely than they were, and they resolved to ask the Sun's opinion on
the subject.
So, one day at dawn, the sisters stood at their open window and cried,
"Sun, shining Sun, who wanderest all over the world, say who is the
most beautiful among our father's daughters?"
The Sun replied, "I am beautiful, and you are both beautiful; but your
youngest sister is the most beautiful of all."
When the two girls heard this, they were beside themselves with anger
and spite, and determined to get rid of the sister who so outshone
them. Saying nothing to her of what the Sun had told them, they on the
following day invited Rosa to accompany them to the wood to gather a
salad of wild herbs for their father's dinner. The unsuspecting Rosa
at once complied, took her basket, and set out with her sisters, who
led her to a spot she had never before visited, a long way from her
father's house, and surrounded on all sides by forest. When they were
arrived, the eldest sister said,
"Do thou, Rosa, gather all the herbs that are here; we will go a little
farther on, and when we have filled our baskets we will return."
The wicked girls, however, went straight home, abandoning Rosa to her
fate. When some hours had passed, and she found that they did not
return, she feared that she might, while seeking for the herbs, have
wandered from the spot where her sisters had left her. Too innocent to
suspect them of the wicked treachery of which they had been guilty,
she only blamed herself for her carelessness, and wept bitterly at the
thought of remaining all night alone in the wild and lonely wood.
After a time the sun set, the twilight came and passed, and darkness
fell. The birds ceased their songs, and the silence of the forest was
broken only by the flutter of a bat or great gray moth, the melancholy
hoot of an owl, and the faint little rustle made by the other flying
and creeping things that come forth with the stars. Seated on a great
tree-trunk, Rosa wept more and more bitterly as the darkness deepened,
and no one came to her aid. Hours passed, the air grew chilly; and
faint with hunger and cold, she was about to lay herself down to die,
when suddenly a brilliant light, like the sparkling of many stars,
shot through the wood and advanced toward the spot where she sat. It
was the Queen of Night, who, attended by all her court, was returning
to her palace after her usual journey, for it was now near dawn. Rosa,
dazzled and frightened, covered her face with her hands, and wept more
bitterly than ever. Attracted by the sound of her sobbing, the Radiant
Lady approached the weeping girl, and in a kind and gentle voice asked
how she came to be there. Rosa looked up, and, reassured by the benign
countenance of the Queen of Night, told her story.
"Come then and live with me, dear girl; I will be your mother, and you
shall be my daughter," said the Queen, who knew perfectly well how it
had all happened.
Gladly the poor girl accompanied the Queen to her palace, and being,
as we know, as amiable and intelligent as she was beautiful, her
protectress soon became very fond of her, and did everything in her
power to make her adopted daughter happy. She gave Rosa the keys of
all her treasures, made her the mistress of her palace, and let her do
whatever she pleased.
But let us now leave this lucky girl with the Queen of Night for a
little while, and return to her sisters. Though they fully believed she
must either have perished of hunger or been devoured by wild beasts,
they after a time, to make quite certain, went again to their window
and cried,
"Sun, shining Sun, who wanderest all over the world, tell us who is the
most beautiful of our father's daughters?"
The Sun replied as before, "I am beautiful, and you are both beautiful;
but your youngest sister is the most beautiful of all."
"But Rosa has long been dead!"
"No," replied the Sun, "Rosa still lives, and she is in the palace of
the Queen of Night."
When the sisters heard this, their rage and spite knew no bounds. Long
they consulted together as to the best means of bringing about her
death; and finally these wicked girls decided to obtain from a witch of
their acquaintance an enchanted kerchief which would make the person
wearing it appear to be dead.
Well, they set out, and presently arrived at the palace at an hour
when they knew that the Queen of Night would be absent and they might
find their sister alone. Rosa was delighted to see them, for though
they had often been unkind to her, she loved her sisters very dearly,
and welcoming them warmly, she offered them everything she had, and
pressed them to remain. They, on their part, pretended to be overjoyed
at finding again the sister they had mourned as lost, and congratulated
her on her good fortune. When they had eaten and drunk of the good
things she set before them, and were about to take their departure, the
eldest sister produced from her basket the enchanted kerchief.
"Here, dear Rosa," said she, "is a little present which we should
like you to wear for our sakes. Let me pin it round your shoulders.
Good-bye, dear!" she added, kissing her affectionately on both cheeks,
"we will come and see you again before long and bring our father with
us."
"Do, dear sisters, and tell my dear father that I will go to see him as
soon as my kind protectress may give me leave."
Rosa watched her sisters from the window till they were out of
sight, and then turned to the embroidery-frame which she had laid aside
on their arrival. She had not, however, made many stitches, before a
feeling of faintness came over her; and letting her work slip from her
hands, she fell back on the sofa and lost consciousness. When the Queen
of Night came home, she went first, as was her wont, to the chamber of
her dear adopted daughter, and finding her thus, she said, as she bent
over the maiden and kissed her beautiful mouth, "She has tired herself,
poor child, over that embroidery-frame; she is so industrious."
[Illustration: THE QUEEN OF THE NIGHT.]
But the beautiful lips were cold and white, and the maiden neither
breathed nor stirred. Distracted with grief, the Queen of Night began
to unfasten Rosa's dress in order to ascertain whether her death had
been caused by the bite of some poisonous reptile, and while doing so,
she observed that the kerchief on her shoulders was not one that her
daughter was in the habit of wearing. When she had unpinned and taken
it off, Rosa heaved a deep sigh, opened her eyes, and seeing the Queen
bending over her, smiled and stretched out her arms to her dear mother,
saying,
"I must have slept a long time! Oh, I remember!" she added, "I was
feeling faint and giddy and lay down, and, I suppose, fell asleep
immediately, for I don't recollect anything else."
"But where did you get this?" asked the Queen, picking up the kerchief
from the floor. "I don't remember having given it to you."
"Oh, I have not told you that I had a great pleasure yesterday. My
sisters, who had thought me forever lost, found out where I was and
came to see me, bringing this kerchief as a present. Is it not pretty?"
These words told the Queen of Night the secret of the whole matter;
but, not wishing to distress her daughter by acquainting her with her
sisters' cruel perfidy, she only replied, "Yes, very pretty. Will you
give it to me, Rosa? I should like to have it for myself."
Rosa was naturally only too pleased to be able to give her kind
protectress something in return for all her favors; and she also
promised her, though not without tears, never again to receive any
visitors, not even her sisters, when she was left by herself in the
palace.
These wicked creatures in a little while again stood at their window
and cried, "Sun, shining Sun, who wanderest the world over, say, is
there now any one more beautiful than we are?"
But the Sun only replied as before, "I am beautiful; you, too, are
beautiful; but Rosa is the most beautiful of all!"
The sisters looked at each other in dismay. "The kerchief has then
failed," said the elder to the younger. "We must try some other method
of getting rid of her."
So the wretches went to the same old witch who had given them the
magic kerchief, and got from her an enchanted sugar-plum. When at
nightfall they again knocked at the door of the palace, the porter
informed them that his mistress was absent, and had given orders that
the palace-gates were not to be opened until her return. They, however,
saw Rosa at her window, and pretending to be greatly distressed at
their exclusion, asked her at least to accept from them the delicious
sugar-plum which they had brought for her.
"Let down a basket," said the eldest; "I will put the sugar-plum
inside, and you can draw it up."
Rosa did so, and drew up the sweetmeat.
"Taste it at once," cried the second sister, "and if you like it, we
will bring you more of the same kind."
The poor girl, suspecting no evil, put the sugar-plum into her mouth;
but scarcely had she tasted it, than she fell back as if dead; and her
sisters, seeing this, hurried away home.
When the Queen returned and again found her favorite lifeless, she was
both grieved and angry. All her servants, however, when questioned,
assured her that no one had entered the palace during her absence,
and that Rosa's sisters had only been allowed to speak to her from a
distance as she stood at her high window. In the hope of bringing her
to life again, as on the previous occasion, the Queen of Night searched
every fold of the maiden's dress, but in vain; she could not discover
the fatal charm.
"Perhaps," said she to herself, as she sat and gazed on the lifeless
features of her adopted daughter, "what I can not discover, chance may,
and I could never bring myself to bury her, dead though she seems to
be."
So the grieving Queen sent for a cunning workman, who made at her
orders a coffer of silver; and after dressing Rosa in her most
beautiful clothes and jewels, she laid her in it, closed the lid,
fastened the coffer on the back of a splendid horse, and let him loose
to wander at will.
The horse, following his fancy, carried his fair burden in a few
hours' time into a neighboring country, the ruler of which was the
handsomest man of his time; and this King, being that day out hunting
with his court, happened to catch sight of the horse. Attracted by its
beauty and fleetness, and by the strange shining burden it bore on
its saddle, he approached, and seeing the animal to be masterless, he
bade his people seize and lead it to the palace. The silver coffer the
King caused to be carried into his bed-chamber, and there he opened
it. Imagine, if you can, his surprise on seeing within the form of a
beautiful maiden. Though apparently lifeless, she was more lovely than
any living woman he had ever beheld, and his heart became filled with
such ardent love for her that he would sit for hours together gazing
upon her beautiful features, neglecting duties and pleasures alike; and
when his ministers came and prayed him to accompany them to the council
chamber, he only said,
"Go, I pray you, and do justice in my name."
Days passed, his gentlemen tried to tempt him out hunting, but again he
only replied,
"Do you go without me."
The royal cooks vied with one another in preparing the most delicious
dishes for his table; but these he hardly tasted, nor did he even
appear to notice what he was eating. When this state of things had
continued for some days the ministers became alarmed, and sent a
messenger to inform the Queen-Mother, who was away at her country
palace. She came with all speed, and was much distressed to find her
son so dispirited and melancholy. To all her anxious inquiries,
however, he only replied that he was quite well, but preferred to
remain alone in his bed-chamber. The Queen had, of course, already
heard from the courtiers the story of the riderless horse and the
silver chest; and she rightly guessed that her son had been bewitched
by what he had found in it, and determined to discover what this might
be.
So the very next day, while the King was at dinner with his vizier, his
mother went to his chamber—for she had a master-key that would open all
the doors in the palace—and there, extended on the divan, she saw the
silver chest. Going hastily up to it, she raised the lid which the King
had closed before leaving. At first she could only gaze in astonishment
at the wonderful beauty of the maiden lying within; but her admiration
presently changed to anger when she thought of her son; and seizing
poor Rosa by her long hair, she dragged her out of the coffer and shook
her violently, saying,
"You wicked dead thing! Why are you not decently buried instead of
wandering about casting spells on Princes?" But as the Queen shook
her the enchanted sugar-plum was jerked out of Rosa's mouth, and she
immediately came to life again, and gazed around her in bewilderment.
And as she opened her large, lovely eyes, the Queen's anger passed
away, and she embraced and kissed Rosa tenderly, weeping with delight
the while. The poor girl was so astonished by the strangeness of
everything around her, that it was some minutes before she could ask:
"Where am I, noble lady, and where is my dear mother?"
"I know not, my child, but I will be your mother. For you shall marry
my son, the King, who is dying for love of you."
As she spoke, footsteps were heard at the door, and the King entered.
Imagine, if you can, his amazement and joy at finding, seated on the
divan by his mother's side, the maiden he loved so dearly, restored
to life, and twenty times lovelier than before. Not to make too long
a story of it, the King took her by the hand, and asked her to be his
wife. And when Rosa heard of his love for her, and saw how handsome
and noble he was, she could not but love him in return. So they were
married with great splendor, and there were feasts for the poor, and
fountains running honey and wine, and rejoicings for everybody.
Well, the King and Rosa lived very happily together for some time; but
her troubles were not over, for her wicked sisters had not yet done
their worst to her. They had for long feared to go near the palace
again, and nearly a year passed before they learned what had been the
result of their last visit. One day, however, in order to make quite
sure that Rosa was dead, they once more stood at their window, and
cried,
"Sun, shining Sun, who wanderest all over the earth, tell us if thou
hast, since our youngest sister died, seen any maiden fairer than we?"
But the Sun only replied as before, "I am beautiful; you, too, are both
beautiful; but your youngest sister is the fairest of all."
"But Rosa is dead!"
"No, Rosa lives, and she is the wife of the King of the neighboring
country."
Well, if these wicked women could not bear that their sister should be
considered fairer than they, still less could they allow her to be a
Queen. So, disguised as two old women, they set off at once for Rosa's
palace. When they arrived in the royal city, great rejoicings were
going on because a baby prince had just been born.
"That is good news," said the elder to the younger when she heard this,
"for now we will be the nurses." So they went to the Queen-Mother
and gave themselves out to be wonderfully clever nurses from the
neighboring country who had nursed the princes there; and the
Queen-Mother, deceived by their story, put them in charge of her
daughter-in-law and the baby. On the pretext of keeping the young Queen
and her child free from evil spells, the make-believe nurses sent away
all the other attendants from her apartments; and when they were left
alone with their sister, they stack into her head an enchanted pin.
She was immediately changed into a bird, and flew away out of the
window; and her eldest sister laid herself down on her bed in her place.
When the King came in to see his wife, he could hardly believe his
eyes. This could not be his wife. The false Queen, guessing his
thoughts, said,
"You find me changed, dear husband? It is because I have been so ill."
The King, however, pretended not to have observed anything, but his
heart froze within him as he looked on the object of this pretended
transformation.
It was his custom to breakfast alone every day in the garden; and one
day while he was sadly musing there, a pretty bird flew down, perched
on a branch overhead, and said, "Tell me, my lord, have the King, and
the Queen-Mother, and the little Prince slept well?"
The King smiled and nodded, and the bird continued, "May they ever
sleep sweetly. But may she whom they call the young Queen sleep the
sleep that knows no waking, and may all things over which I fly wither
away!"
This said, the bird spread its wings, and wherever it passed, the grass
and flowers withered, and the place became a desert. The gardeners, in
despair, asked the King if they might not kill the bird which caused
the mischief; but he forbade them, on pain of death, to do it any
injury.
Afterward the bird came every day while he was at breakfast in the
garden; and the kind voice of the Prince soon made it so tame and
fearless that it would perch on his knee and eat from his hand. This
familiarity enabled the Prince to observe the bird's plumage more
closely, and one day he caught sight of the pin in its head. Surprised
at this, he ventured to withdraw it, when the bird disappeared, and
his own dear wife stood again by his side. When he had recovered a
little from the joy and surprise caused by this strange event, and had
welcomed his wife back, he asked her to tell how it had all happened.
And Rosa, whose eyes were now fully opened to the malice and wickedness
of her sisters, told him all she knew of her own adventures.
When the Prince had learned the evil deeds of his sisters-in-law, he
bade his guards bring these wretches before him, and condemned them
both to a death suitable to their crimes. In vain did Rosa entreat
him to pardon them. The King was inexorable. But when, at sunset, the
criminals were being led away to execution, the Queen of Night appeared
on the scene, followed by all her train; and touched by the distress
of her adopted daughter, she prevailed upon the King to change the
sentence he had pronounced. The two evil-doers were then offered the
choice of dying a violent death, or living to witness their sister's
happiness while deprived of the power of ever again being able to
injure her.
They chose the latter fate; and it was not long before they both died
of spite and jealousy.