'Oh, have you come from that quarter?' said the mother. 'I thought you
had been in the Garden of Paradise.'
'I am only going there to-morrow!' said the Eastwind. 'It will be a
hundred years to-morrow since I have been there. I have just come from
China, where I danced round the porcelain tower till all the bells
jingled. The officials were flogged in the streets, the bamboo canes
were broken over their shoulders, and they were all people ranging from
the first to the ninth rank. They shrieked "Many thanks, Father and
benefactor," but they didn't mean what they said, and I went on ringing
the bells and singing "Tsing, tsang, tsu!"'
'You're quite uproarious about it!' said the old woman. 'It's a good
thing you are going to the Garden of Paradise to-morrow; it always has a
good effect on your behaviour. Mind you drink deep of the well of
wisdom, and bring a little bottleful home to me.'
'That I will,' said the Eastwind, 'But why have you put my brother from
the south into the bag? Out with him. He must tell me about the
phoenix; the Princess always wants to hear about that bird when I call
every hundred years. Open the bag! then you'll be my sweetest mother,
and I'll give you two pockets full of tea as green and fresh as when I
picked it!'
'Well, for the sake of the tea, and because you are my darling, I will
open my bag!'
She did open it and the Southwind crept out, but he was quite
crestfallen because the strange Prince had seen his disgrace.
'Here is a palm leaf for the Princess!' said the Southwind. 'The old
phoenix, the only one in the world, gave it to me. He has scratched
his whole history on it with his bill, for the hundred years of his
life, and she can read it for herself. I saw how the phoenix set fire
to his nest himself and sat on it while it burnt, like the widow of a
Hindoo. Oh, how the dry branches crackled, how it smoked, and what a
smell there was! At last it all burst into flame; the old bird was burnt
to ashes, but his egg lay glowing in the fire; it broke with a loud bang
and the young one flew out. Now it rules over all the birds, and it is
the only phoenix in the world. He bit a hole in the leaf I gave you;
that is his greeting to the Princess.'
'Let us have something to eat now!' said the mother of the winds; and
they all sat down to eat the roast stag, and the Prince sat by the side
of the Eastwind, so they soon became good friends.
'I say,' said the Prince, 'just tell me who is this Princess, and where
is the Garden of Paradise?'
'Oh ho!' said the Eastwind, 'if that is where you want to go you must
fly with me to-morrow. But I may as well tell you that no human being
has been there since Adam and Eve's time. You know all about them I
suppose from your Bible stories?'
'Of course,' said the Prince.
'When they were driven away the Garden of Eden sank into the ground, but
it kept its warm sunshine, its mild air, and all its charms. The queen
of the fairies lives there. The Island of Bliss, where death never
enters, and where living is a delight, is there. Get on my back
to-morrow and I will take you with me; I think I can manage it! But you
mustn't talk now, I want to go to sleep.'
When the Prince woke up in the early morning, he was not a little
surprised to find that he was already high above the clouds. He was
sitting on the back of the Eastwind, who was holding him carefully; they
were so high up that woods and fields, rivers and lakes, looked like a
large coloured map.
'Good morning,' said the Eastwind. 'You may as well sleep a little
longer, for there is not much to be seen in this flat country below us,
unless you want to count the churches. They look like chalk dots on the
green board.'
He called the fields and meadows 'the green board.'
'It was very rude of me to leave without saying good-bye to your mother
and brothers,' said the Prince.
'One is excused when one is asleep!' said the Eastwind, and they flew on
faster than ever. You could mark their flight by the rustling of the
trees as they passed over the woods; and whenever they crossed a lake,
or the sea, the waves rose and the great ships dipped low down in the
water, like floating swans. Towards evening the large towns were amusing
as it grew dark, with all their lights twinkling now here, now there,
just as when one burns a piece of paper and sees all the little sparks
like children coming home from school. The Prince clapped his hands, but
the Eastwind told him he had better leave off and hold tight, or he
might fall and find himself hanging on to a church steeple.
The eagle in the great forest flew swiftly, but the Eastwind flew more
swiftly still. The Kossack on his little horse sped fast over the
plains, but the Prince sped faster still.
[Illustration: _The eagle in the great forest flew swiftly, but the
Eastwind flew more swiftly still._]
'Now you can see the Himalayas!' said the Eastwind. 'They are the
highest mountains in Asia; we shall soon reach the Garden of Paradise.'
They took a more southerly direction, and the air became scented with
spices and flowers. Figs and pomegranates grew wild, and the wild vines
were covered with blue and green grapes. They both descended here and
stretched themselves on the soft grass, where the flowers nodded to the
wind, as much as to say, 'Welcome back.'
'Are we in the Garden of Paradise now?' asked the Prince.
'No, certainly not!' answered the Eastwind. 'But we shall soon be there.
Do you see that wall of rock and the great cavern where the wild vine
hangs like a big curtain? We have to go through there! Wrap yourself up
in your cloak, the sun is burning here, but a step further on it is icy
cold. The bird which flies past the cavern has one wing out here in the
heat of summer, and the other is there in the cold of winter.'
'So that is the way to the Garden of Paradise!' said the Prince.
Now they entered the cavern. Oh, how icily cold it was; but it did not
last long. The Eastwind spread his wings, and they shone like the
brightest flame; but what a cave it was! Large blocks of stone, from
which the water dripped, hung over them in the most extraordinary
shapes; at one moment it was so low and narrow that they had to crawl
on hands and knees, the next it was as wide and lofty as if they were in
the open air. It looked like a chapel of the dead, with mute organ pipes
and petrified banners.
'We seem to be journeying along Death's road to the Garden of Paradise!'
said the Prince, but the Eastwind never answered a word, he only pointed
before them where a beautiful blue light was shining. The blocks of
stone above them grew dimmer and dimmer, and at last they became as
transparent as a white cloud in the moonshine. The air was also
deliciously soft, as fresh as on the mountain-tops and as scented as
down among the roses in the valley.
A river ran there as clear as the air itself, and the fish in it were
like gold and silver. Purple eels, which gave out blue sparks with every
curve, gambolled about in the water; and the broad leaves of the
water-lilies were tinged with the hues of the rainbow, while the flower
itself was like a fiery orange flame, nourished by the water, just as
oil keeps a lamp constantly burning. A firm bridge of marble, as
delicately and skilfully carved as if it were lace and glass beads, led
over the water to the Island of Bliss, where the Garden of Paradise
bloomed.
The Eastwind took the Prince in his arms and bore him over. The flowers
and leaves there sang all the beautiful old songs of his childhood, but
sang them more wonderfully than any human voice could sing them.
Were these palm trees or giant water plants growing here? The Prince
had never seen such rich and mighty trees. The most wonderful climbing
plants hung in wreaths, such as are only to be found pictured in gold
and colours on the margins of old books of the Saints or entwined among
their initial letters. It was the most extraordinary combination of
birds, flowers and scrolls.
Close by on the grass stood a flock of peacocks with their brilliant
tails outspread. Yes, indeed, it seemed so, but when the Prince touched
them he saw that they were not birds but plants. They were big dock
leaves, which shone like peacocks' tails. Lions and tigers sprang like
agile cats among the green hedges, which were scented with the blossom
of the olive, and the lion and the tiger were tame. The wild dove,
glistening like a pearl, beat the lion's mane with his wings; and the
antelope, otherwise so shy, stood by nodding, just as if he wanted to
join the game.
The Fairy of the Garden now advanced to meet them; her garments shone
like the sun, and her face beamed like that of a happy mother rejoicing
over her child. She was young and very beautiful, and was surrounded by
a band of lovely girls, each with a gleaming star in her hair.
When the Eastwind gave her the inscribed leaf from the Phoenix her
eyes sparkled with delight. She took the Prince's hand and led him into
her palace, where the walls were the colour of the brightest tulips in
the sunlight. The ceiling was one great shining flower, and the longer
one gazed into it the deeper the calyx seemed to be. The Prince went to
the window, and looking through one of the panes saw the Tree of
Knowledge, with the Serpent, and Adam and Eve standing by.
'Are they not driven out?' he asked, and the Fairy smiled, and explained
that Time had burned a picture into each pane, but not of the kind one
usually sees; they were alive, the leaves on the trees moved, and people
came and went like the reflections in a mirror.
Then he looked through another pane, and he saw Jacob's dream, with the
ladder going straight up into heaven, and angels with great wings were
fluttering up and down. All that had ever happened in this world lived
and moved on these window panes; only Time could imprint such wonderful
pictures.
[Illustration: _The Fairy of the Garden now advanced to meet them; her
garments shone like the sun, and her face beamed like that of a happy
mother rejoicing over her child._]
The Fairy smiled and led him into a large, lofty room, the walls of
which were like transparent paintings of faces, one more beautiful than
the other. These were millions of the Blessed who smiled and sang, and
all their songs melted into one perfect melody. The highest ones were so
tiny that they seemed smaller than the very smallest rosebud, no bigger
than a pinpoint in a drawing. In the middle of the room stood a large
tree, with handsome drooping branches; golden apples, large and small,
hung like oranges among its green leaves. It was the Tree of
Knowledge, of whose fruit Adam and Eve had eaten. From every leaf
hung a shining red drop of dew; it was as if the tree wept tears of
blood.
'Now let us get into the boat,' said the Fairy. 'We shall find
refreshment on the swelling waters. The boat rocks, but it does not move
from the spot; all the countries of the world will pass before our
eyes.'
It was a curious sight to see the whole coast move. Here came lofty
snow-clad Alps, with their clouds and dark fir trees. The horn echoed
sadly among them, and the shepherd yodelled sweetly in the valleys. Then
banian trees bent their long drooping branches over the boat, black
swans floated on the water, and the strangest animals and flowers
appeared on the shore. This was New Holland, the fifth portion of the
world, which glided past them with a view of its blue mountains. They
heard the song of priests, and saw the dances of the savages to the
sound of drums and pipes of bone. The pyramids of Egypt reaching to the
clouds, with fallen columns, and Sphynxes half buried in sand, next
sailed past them. Then came the Aurora Borealis blazing over the peaks
of the north; they were fireworks which could not be imitated. The
Prince was so happy, and he saw a hundred times more than we have
described.
'Can I stay here always?' he asked.
'That depends upon yourself,' answered the Fairy. 'If you do not, like
Adam, allow yourself to be tempted to do what is forbidden, you can stay
here always.'
'I will not touch the apples on the Tree of Knowledge,' said the Prince.
'There are thousands of other fruits here as beautiful.'
'Test yourself, and if you are not strong enough, go back with the
Eastwind who brought you. He is going away now, and will not come back
for a hundred years; the time will fly in this place like a hundred
hours, but that is a long time for temptation and sin. Every evening
when I leave you I must say, "Come with me," and I must beckon to you,
but stay behind. Do not come with me, for with every step you take your
longing will grow stronger. You will reach the hall where grows the Tree
of Knowledge; I sleep beneath its fragrant drooping branches. You will
bend over me and I must smile, but if you press a kiss upon my lips
Paradise will sink deep down into the earth, and it will be lost to you.
The sharp winds of the wilderness will whistle round you, the cold rain
will drop from your hair. Sorrow and labour will be your lot.'
'I will remain here!' said the Prince.
And the Eastwind kissed him on the mouth and said: 'Be strong, then we
shall meet again in a hundred years. Farewell! Farewell!' And the
Eastwind spread his great wings; they shone like poppies at the harvest
time, or the Northern Lights in a cold winter.
'Good-bye! good-bye!' whispered the flowers. Storks and pelicans flew
in a line like waving ribbons, conducting him to the boundaries of the
Garden.
'Now we begin our dancing!' said the Fairy; 'at the end when I dance
with you, as the sun goes down you will see me beckon to you and cry,
"Come with me", but do not come. I have to repeat it every night for a
hundred years. Every time you resist, you will grow stronger, and at
last you will not even think of following. To-night is the first time.
Remember my warning!'
And the Fairy led him into a large hall of white transparent lilies, the
yellow stamens in each formed a little golden harp which echoed the
sound of strings and flutes. Lovely girls, slender and lissom, dressed
in floating gauze, which revealed their exquisite limbs, glided in the
dance, and sang of the joy of living--that they would never die--and
that the Garden of Paradise would bloom for ever.
The sun went down and the sky was bathed in golden light which gave the
lilies the effect of roses; and the Prince drank of the foaming wine
handed to him by the maidens. He felt such joy as he had never known
before; he saw the background of the hall opening where the Tree of
Knowledge stood in a radiancy which blinded him. The song proceeding
from it was soft and lovely, like his mother's voice, and she seemed to
say, 'My child, my beloved child!'
Then the Fairy beckoned to him and said so tenderly, 'Come with me,'
that he rushed towards her, forgetting his promise, forgetting
everything on the very first evening that she smiled and beckoned to
him.
The fragrance in the scented air around grew stronger, the harps sounded
sweeter than ever, and it seemed as if the millions of smiling heads in
the hall where the Tree grew nodded and sang, 'One must know everything.
Man is lord of the earth.' They were no longer tears of blood which fell
from the Tree; it seemed to him that they were red shining stars.
'Come with me, come with me,' spoke those trembling tones, and at every
step the Prince's cheeks burnt hotter and hotter and his blood coursed
more rapidly.
'I must go,' he said, 'it is no sin; I must see her asleep; nothing will
be lost if I do not kiss her, and that I will not do. My will is
strong.'
The Fairy dropped her shimmering garment, drew back the branches, and a
moment after was hidden within their depths.
'I have not sinned yet!' said the Prince, 'nor will I'; then he drew
back the branches. There she lay asleep already, beautiful as only the
Fairy in the Garden of Paradise can be. She smiled in her dreams; he
bent over her and saw the tears welling up under her eyelashes.
[Illustration: _The Fairy dropped her shimmering garment, drew back the
branches, and a moment after was hidden within their depths._]
'Do you weep for me?' he whispered. 'Weep not, beautiful maiden. I
only now understand the full bliss of Paradise; it surges through my
blood and through my thoughts. I feel the strength of the angels and of
everlasting life in my mortal limbs! If it were to be everlasting night
to me, a moment like this were worth it!' and he kissed away the tears
from her eyes; his mouth touched hers.
Then came a sound like thunder, louder and more awful than any he had
ever heard before, and everything around collapsed. The beautiful Fairy,
the flowery Paradise sank deeper and deeper. The Prince saw it sink into
the darkness of night; it shone far off like a little tiny twinkling
star. The chill of death crept over his limbs; he closed his eyes and
lay long as if dead.
The cold rain fell on his face, and the sharp wind blew around his head,
and at last his memory came back. 'What have I done?' he sighed. 'I have
sinned like Adam, sinned so heavily that Paradise has sunk low beneath
the earth!' And he opened his eyes; he could still see the star, the
far-away star, which twinkled like Paradise; it was the morning star in
the sky. He got up and found himself in the wood near the cave of the
winds, and the mother of the winds sat by his side. She looked angry and
raised her hand.
'So soon as the first evening!' she said. 'I thought as much; if you
were my boy, you should go into the bag!'
'Ah, he shall soon go there!' said Death. He was a strong old man, with
a scythe in his hand and great black wings. 'He shall be laid in a
coffin, but not now; I only mark him and then leave him for a time to
wander about on the earth to expiate his sin and to grow better. I will
come some time. When he least expects me, I shall come back, lay him in
a black coffin, put it on my head, and fly to the skies. The Garden of
Paradise blooms there too, and if he is good and holy he shall enter
into it; but if his thoughts are wicked and his heart still full of sin,
he will sink deeper in his coffin than Paradise sank, and I shall only
go once in every thousand years to see if he is to sink deeper or to
rise to the stars, the twinkling stars up there.'
THE MERMAID
Far out at sea the water is as blue as the bluest cornflower, and as
clear as the clearest crystal; but it is very deep, too deep for any
cable to fathom, and if many steeples were piled on the top of one
another they would not reach from the bed of the sea to the surface of
the water. It is down there that the Mermen live.
Now don't imagine that there are only bare white sands at the bottom; oh
no! the most wonderful trees and plants grow there, with such flexible
stalks and leaves, that at the slightest motion of the water they move
just as if they were alive. All the fish, big and little, glide among
the branches just as, up here, birds glide through the air. The palace
of the Merman King lies in the very deepest part; its walls are of coral
and the long pointed windows of the clearest amber, but the roof is made
of mussel shells which open and shut with the lapping of the water. This
has a lovely effect, for there are gleaming pearls in every shell, any
one of which would be the pride of a queen's crown.
The Merman King had been for many years a widower, but his old mother
kept house for him; she was a clever woman, but so proud of her noble
birth that she wore twelve oysters on her tail, while the other grandees
were only allowed six. Otherwise she was worthy of all praise,
especially because she was so fond of the little mermaid princesses, her
grandchildren. They were six beautiful children, but the youngest was
the prettiest of all; her skin was as soft and delicate as a roseleaf,
her eyes as blue as the deepest sea, but like all the others she had no
feet, and instead of legs she had a fish's tail.
All the livelong day they used to play in the palace in the great halls,
where living flowers grew out of the walls. When the great amber windows
were thrown open the fish swam in, just as the swallows fly into our
rooms when we open the windows, but the fish swam right up to the little
princesses, ate out of their hands, and allowed themselves to be patted.
[Illustration: _The Merman King had been for many years a widower, but
his old mother kept house for him; she was a clever woman, but so proud
of her noble birth that she wore twelve oysters on her tail, while the
other grandees were only allowed six._]
Outside the palace was a large garden, with fiery red and deep blue
trees, the fruit of which shone like gold, while the flowers glowed like
fire on their ceaselessly waving stalks. The ground was of the finest
sand, but it was of a blue phosphorescent tint. Everything was bathed in
a wondrous blue light down there; you might more readily have supposed
yourself to be high up in the air, with only the sky above and below
you, than that you were at the bottom of the ocean. In a dead calm you
could just catch a glimpse of the sun like a purple flower with a
stream of light radiating from its calyx.
Each little princess had her own little plot of garden, where she could
dig and plant just as she liked. One made her flower-bed in the shape of
a whale; another thought it nice to have hers like a little mermaid; but
the youngest made hers quite round like the sun, and she would only have
flowers of a rosy hue like its beams. She was a curious child, quiet and
thoughtful, and while the other sisters decked out their gardens with
all kinds of extraordinary objects which they got from wrecks, she would
have nothing besides the rosy flowers like the sun up above, except a
statue of a beautiful boy. It was hewn out of the purest white marble
and had gone to the bottom from some wreck. By the statue she planted a
rosy red weeping willow which grew splendidly, and the fresh delicate
branches hung round and over it, till they almost touched the blue sand
where the shadows showed violet, and were ever moving like the branches.
It looked as if the leaves and the roots were playfully interchanging
kisses.
Nothing gave her greater pleasure than to hear about the world of human
beings up above; she made her old grandmother tell her all that she knew
about ships and towns, people and animals. But above all it seemed
strangely beautiful to her that up on the earth the flowers were
scented, for they were not so at the bottom of the sea; also that the
woods were green, and that the fish which were to be seen among the
branches could sing so loudly and sweetly that it was a delight to
listen to them. You see the grandmother called little birds fish, or the
mermaids would not have understood her, as they had never seen a bird.
'When you are fifteen,' said the grandmother, 'you will be allowed to
rise up from the sea and sit on the rocks in the moonlight, and look at
the big ships sailing by, and you will also see woods and towns.'
One of the sisters would be fifteen in the following year, but the
others,--well, they were each one year younger than the other, so that
the youngest had five whole years to wait before she would be allowed to
come up from the bottom, to see what things were like on earth. But each
one promised the others to give a full account of all that she had seen,
and found most wonderful on the first day. Their grandmother could never
tell them enough, for there were so many things about which they wanted
information.
None of them was so full of longings as the youngest, the very one who
had the longest time to wait, and who was so quiet and dreamy. Many a
night she stood by the open windows and looked up through the dark blue
water which the fish were lashing with their tails and fins. She could
see the moon and the stars, it is true; their light was pale, but they
looked much bigger through the water than they do to our eyes. When she
saw a dark shadow glide between her and them, she knew that it was
either a whale swimming above her, or else a ship laden with human
beings. I am certain they never dreamt that a lovely little mermaid was
standing down below, stretching up her white hands towards the keel.