would have believed to see him that there was any life in him at all,
immediately sat up, recovered and well.
He did not recognise the Princess, and when the King, his father, told
him the terms on which she had saved his life, and presented the maiden
to him, he refused.
'For the great service you have rendered me I am grateful indeed,' he
said; 'but I cannot marry you. My heart is already given to another, and
not even for my life will I be false to my word.'
When she heard this the Princess was secretly overjoyed; but she
pretended to be greatly displeased, and she disdainfully rejected all
other offers of reward that were made to her by the King and the Prince.
'Tell me who this other is, and I will go to her and get her to
relinquish you in my favour,' she said at length. 'When she learns what
I have done for you, I am sure she will agree that my claim is greater
than hers.'
'It is the Princess Grannmia; but that I am sure she will never do,'
said the Prince proudly. 'Even if she would, I will not. What is life
without love? and I would rather be a serpent again, and live in the
cottage of a poor forester all my days, than rule this kingdom without
my beloved Princess.'
On hearing this the Princess could no longer keep her secret.
'You must love me indeed, dear Prince,' she said, 'if you do not
recognise me when I come pleading to you to carry out your promise after
saving your life, and marry me as you would have done when the King, my
father, drove you away from me.'
Then the Prince recognised her, and he embraced her so heartily that the
Princess wondered whether he was still a serpent or only just a strong
young man who was very much in love with her, while the King went out
and gave immediate orders to set the bells a-ringing, and have
preparations made on the most lavish scale for the wedding feast.
THE HIND OF THE WOOD
A FRENCH FAIRY TALE
Once upon a time there lived a King and a Queen whose marriage was as
happy as happy could be; they loved each other tenderly, and, in turn,
their subjects loved them; but one thing clouded their life: and that
was that they had no children, no heir. The Queen thought that the King
would love her much more if she had a child. So she made up her mind to
drink of the water of a certain spring. People came there in thousands
from afar to drink of this special kind of water; and one saw so many
that it looked as though all the world and his wife were there.
Now there were many, many lovely fountains in the wood where the Queen
and other people went to drink at the spring; so the Queen asked her
ladies to lead the others away to these fountains to amuse themselves,
and leave her alone. Then, when they had all withdrawn, she bewailed in
a plaintive voice.
'Am I not unhappy,' she said, 'to have no children! The poor women, who
can badly afford them, have plenty; but here it is now five years that I
have begged heaven to give me one. Oh! am I to die without ever having a
little child? Never! Never! Nev----'
She broke off suddenly, for she saw that the water of the fountain was
troubled. Then a big Crayfish came up and climbed on to the bank and
spoke to her:
'Great Queen, you shall have your desire. Near here is the grand palace
which the fairies built, but it is impossible for you to find it,
because it is surrounded by strong fairy barricades, through which no
mortal eye could ever see, nor mortal footstep pass without a guide.
But I am your humble servant, and, if you will trust yourself to me, I
will take you there.'
The Queen listened without interrupting, for hearing a big Crayfish
talk--and talk so nicely too--was a great surprise to her. But there was
a still greater surprise in store. The Crayfish waved its feelers in the
air, and, before she could count three, it had taken the form of a
beautiful little old woman, with pretty snow-white hair and a dainty
shepherdess costume. She bowed low, and then spoke.
'Well, madam,' said she, 'always look upon me as one of your friends,
for I wish nothing but what would be for your good.'
She was so sweet and charming that the Queen kissed her, and then by
common consent they went off hand in hand through the wood by a way
which surprised the Queen.
It was the way by which the fairies came from the palace to the
fountains. As they went the Queen paused to look at a strange thing
which made her heart beat very fast. At a certain spot the bushes
overhead were full of roses and orange blossoms, entwined and laced in
such a way as to form a cradle covered with leaves. The earth beneath
was a carpet of violets, and, in the giant cedars above, thousands of
little birds, each one a different colour, sang their songs; and the
meaning of their melody was this: that cradle, woven by fairy fingers,
was not there for nothing.
The Queen had not got over this surprise before she saw in the distance
a castle that dazzled her vision, so splendid did it shine. To tell the
truth, the walls and the ceilings were of nothing but diamonds, and all
the benches--even the balcony and terraces--all were pure diamonds
scintillating with flashes beyond the strength of human eyes to bear.
The Queen gave a great cry of joy as she covered her eyes with her hand.
Then, as they came to the gate of the castle, she asked the little old
woman if what she saw were real, or if she were dreaming?
'Nothing is more real, madam,' the fairy replied. And at that moment the
door of the castle opened and six other fairies came out. But what
fairies! They were the most beautiful ever seen. They all made a low
bow to the Queen, and each one presented her with a branch flowering
with petals of precious stones, to make herself a bouquet. One bore
roses, another tulips, another rare wild-flowers, and the rest budded
with carnations and pomegranates.
'Madam,' they said, 'we could not give you a greater mark of our
friendship for you, than to invite you here. We are pleased to be able
to tell you that you shall have a lovely little Princess whom you shall
call Désirée. Be sure not to forget that, when she is born, you summon
us, because we wish to endow her with all the good qualities possible.
All you will have to do is to take the branches of the bouquet, and, in
naming each flower, think of the fairy of that name; rest assured that
we shall be in your room immediately.'
The Queen, full of joy, threw her arms around each one's neck in turn,
and kissed them all, over and over again, for half an hour. After that
they begged the Queen to go through their palace, and the diamonds were
so bright that the Queen could not keep her eyes open. Then they took
her through their garden. Never was there such lovely fruit; the
apricots were larger than her head, and she could only eat a quarter of
one, and the taste was so lovely that the Queen resolved never to eat
anything else as long as she lived. She remained in the palace until the
evening, and then, having thanked the fairies for all they had done for
her, she returned with the Fairy of the Fountain.
Now, when the Queen went home, she found that they were all very upset,
and had been searching for her, and could not think where she had gone.
Some had thought that, as she was so beautiful and young, some stranger
had taken her away: which was reasonable, for she spoke so nicely to
every one. But now at last they had found her, and the King was himself
again.
The Queen soon found that what the fairies had said was true. On a
certain day she had a little daughter, and she called her Désirée. Then,
remembering their words, she at once took the bouquet and named each
flower and thought of the fairies one after the other, and lo!
immediately they were all there. Their arms were crammed full of
presents. And, after they had kissed the Queen and the little Princess,
they began to distribute the presents. There was beautiful lace with the
history of the world worked into it; then came a lovely cover all marked
in gold representing all the toys that children play with. The cot was
then shown, and the Queen went into raptures over it: it surely was the
nicest ever made; it was of beautiful, rare wood, with a canopy of blue
silk, inwrought with diamonds and rubies.
Then the fairies took the little Princess on their knees, and kissed her
and hugged her because she was so good and beautiful. Each fairy wished
her a good quality. One wished her to be wise; another wished that she
might be good; another wished her to be virtuous; another to be
beautiful; another to possess a good fortune; and the fifth asked for
her a long life and good health. Then came the last, and she wished that
Désirée might obtain all that she herself could ever wish for.
The Queen thanked them a hundred times for all the good things they had
given her little daughter, and, while she was doing so, all gave a
sudden start, for the door opened and a tremendous Crayfish--so large
that it could hardly get through the door--came in, waving its feelers
in the air.
'O ungrateful Queen!' said the Crayfish, 'you did not trouble to ask me
here. Is it possible that you have so soon forgotten the Fairy of the
Fountain and the good services I did in taking you to my sisters. Why,
you have invited all of them, and I am the only one forgotten.'
The Queen was terribly upset at her error, and begged the Fairy to
forgive her. She hastened to assure her that she had not for a moment
forgotten her great obligation to her; and she begged her not to go back
on her friendship, and particularly to be good to the little Princess.
The others thought that the Fairy of the Fountain would wish evil to the
baby Princess, so they said to her: 'Dear sister, do not be cross with
the Queen; she is good and never would offend you.'
Now, as the Fairy of the Fountain liked to be spoken to nicely, this
softened her a little, and she said:
'Very well, I will not wish her all the harm I was going to; I will
lessen it a little. But take care that she never sees the light of day
until she is fifteen, or she and you will have reason to regret it. That
is all I have to say.' Then, suddenly changing into the little old woman
with the white hair and shepherdess dress, she pirouetted through the
wall, staff in hand. And the cries of the Queen and the prayers of the
good fairies did not matter a bit.
The Queen begged the other fairies to avert the terrible catastrophe,
and besought them to tell her what to do. They consulted together, and
at last told the Queen that they would build a palace without any
windows or doors, and with an underground passage, so that the
Princess's food could be brought to her. And she was to be kept there
until she was fifteen.
Then, with a wave of their wands, they made a lovely, pure-white marble
castle spring up, and, inside of this, all the chairs were made of
jewels, and even the floors were no different. And here the little
Princess dwelt and grew up a good and beautiful child, possessing all
the good qualities that her fairy godmothers had wished for her; and
from time to time they came to see how she was getting on. But, of all
the fairy godmothers, Tulip was the favourite. She reminded the Queen
never to forget the warning not to allow the Princess to see the light
of day, lest the terrible fate that the Fairy of the Fountain had laid
upon her would surely come to pass. The Queen, of course, promised never
to forget so important a matter.
Now, just as her little daughter was nearing the age of fifteen, the
Queen had her portrait taken and sent to all the great courts of the
world. And so it happened that one Prince, when he saw it, took it and
shut it up in his cabinet and talked to the portrait as though it was
the Princess herself in the flesh.
The courtiers heard him and went and told his father that his son had
gone mad, and that he was shut up in his room, talking all day long to
something or somebody who wasn't there.
The King immediately sent for his son and told him what the courtiers
had said about him; then he asked him if it was true, and what had come
over him to act like this.
The Prince thought this a favourable opportunity, so he threw himself at
the feet of the King and said:
'You have resolved, sire, to marry me to the Black Princess, but I love
the Princess Désirée.'
'You have not seen her,' said the King. 'How can you love her?'
'Neither have I seen the Black Princess, but I have both their
portraits,' replied the Warrior Prince (he was so named because he had
won three great battles), 'but I assure you that I have such a love for
the Princess Désirée, that if you do not withdraw your word to the Black
Princess and allow me to have Désirée, I shall die, and I shall be very
glad to do so if I am unable to have the Princess I love.'
'It is to her portrait, then, that you have been speaking?' said the
King. 'My son, you have made yourself the laughing-stock of the whole
court. They think you are mad.'
'You would be as much struck as I am if you saw her portrait,' replied
the Prince firmly.
'Fetch it and show it to me, then,' said the King, equally firmly.
The Prince went, and returned with the Princess's portrait as requested;
and the King was so struck with her beauty that he gave the Prince leave
there and then to marry her, and promised to withdraw his word from the
other Princess.
'My dear Warrior,' said he, 'I should love to have so beautiful a
Princess in my court.'
The Prince kissed his father's hand and bowed his knee, for he could not
conceal his joy. He begged the King to send a messenger not only to the
Black Princess but also to Princess Désirée; and he hoped that in regard
to his own Princess, he would choose a man who would prove the most
capable; and he must be rich, because this was a special occasion and
called for all the elaborate preparation it was possible to show in such
a diplomatic mission.
The King's choice fell on Prince Becafigue; he was a young Prince who
spoke eloquently, and he possessed five millions of money. And, beside
this, he loved the Warrior Prince very dearly.
When the messenger was taking his leave the Prince said to him:
'Do not forget, my dear Becafigue, that my life depends on my marrying
Princess Désirée, whom you are going to see. Do your best for me and
tell the Princess that I love her.' Then he handed Becafigue his
photograph to give the Princess.
The young Prince Becafigue's cortège was so grand, and consisted of so
many carriages, that it took them twenty-three hours to pass; and the
whole world turned out to see him enter the gates of the palace where
the King and Queen and Princess Désirée lived. The King and Queen saw
him coming and were very pleased with all his grandeur, and commanded
that he should be received in a manner befitting so great a personage.
Becafigue was taken before the King and Queen, and, after paying his
respects to them, told them his message and asked to be introduced to
the Princess Désirée. What was his surprise on being refused!
'I am very sorry to have to say no to your request, Prince Becafigue,'
said the King, 'but I will tell you why. On the day the Princess was
born a fairy took an aversion to her, and said that a great misfortune
should befall her if she saw the light of day before she was fifteen
years of age.'
'And am I to return without her?' said Becafigue. 'Here is a portrait of
the Warrior Prince.' Then, as he was handing it to the King, and was
about to say something further about it, a voice came from the
photograph, speaking with loving tones:
'Dear Désirée, you cannot imagine with what joy I wait for you: come
soon to our court, where your beauty will grace it as no other court
will ever be graced.'
The portrait said nothing more, and the King and the Queen were so
surprised that they asked Becafigue to allow them to show it to the
Princess.
Becafigue readily assented and the Queen took the portrait to the
Princess and showed it to her; and the Princess was delighted. Although
the Queen had told her nothing, the Princess knew that it meant a great
marriage, and was not surprised when her mother asked: 'Would you be
cross if you had to marry this man?'
'Madam,' said the Princess, 'it is not for me to choose; I shall be
pleased to obey whatever you wish.'
'But,' said the Queen, 'if my choice should fall on this particular
Prince, would you consider yourself happy?'
The Princess blushed and turned her eyes away and said nothing; then the
Queen took her in her arms and kissed her, for she loved the Princess
very much and knew that she would soon lose her, for it wanted only
three months to her fifteenth birthday.
When the Prince knew that he could not have his dear Princess Désirée
until three months had passed, he became very sad, and could not sleep
at night, until at last his strength gave way and he was near to death.
Doctors were called in, but they could do nothing at all, and the King
was in a dreadful state, for he loved his son very much.
Now the other messenger, who was sent to the Black Princess to tell her
that the Prince had changed his mind and was going to marry another, was
admitted to her presence and soon explained his errand.
'Mr. Messenger,' she said when he had finished, 'is it possible that
your master does not think I am beautiful or rich enough? Look out over
my broad lands and you will find that they are so vast that you cannot
see where they end; and, as for money, I have large coffers full to the
brim, as any one will tell you.'
'Madam,' replied the messenger, 'I blame my master as much as a humble
subject may. Now if I were sitting on the greatest throne in the world,
I would think it the highest favour from heaven if you would share it
with me.'
'That speech has saved your life,' said the Black Princess, 'you may
go.'
When the Fairy of the Fountain heard this she was extremely angry and
she looked in her book to make sure that the Warrior Prince had really
left the Black Princess in favour of the Princess Désirée. Yes, it was
quite true.
'What!' cried the Fairy of the Fountain, 'this ill-omened Désirée is
always in some way upsetting my plans. No! I will not allow it to
happen: why should I?'
Now the messenger Becafigue hurried along to the court of Désirée's
father and mother, and threw himself at their feet, and told them that
his master was very ill and likely to die if he did not see the
Princess.
The King and Queen agreed that it would be best to go and tell the
Princess about the Prince; so the Queen went and told her daughter all
she knew, not forgetting to mention the evil wish that had been laid
upon her at the time of her birth. But the Princess asked her mother if
it were not possible to defeat this wish by taking steps to send her to
the Prince in a carriage with all the light shut out.
This was agreed upon and a carriage was made on a subtle plan, with a
separate compartment for the Princess, and mouse-trap blinds through
which food and drink could be inserted without admitting the light of
day. In this she, with her two ladies-in-waiting, Long-Epine and
Giroflée, set forth, and all the court wept together with the King and
Queen at the going away of their little Princess.
Now Long-Epine did not care for Désirée very much, and, what is more,
she loved the Warrior Prince, having seen his photograph and heard him
speak.
The Queen's last words at parting were:
'Take care of my little daughter, and do not on any account let her see
the light of day. I have made all arrangements with the Prince that she
is to be shut up in a room where she will not be able to see the light,
and every care will be taken.' And, with these words in their ears, they
set off, having promised the Queen that all would be done as she
wished.
Long-Epine told herself she would never let the Princess win the Warrior
Prince, not if she could prevent it; so, at dinner time that day, when
the sun was at its highest, she went as usual to the carriage with the
Princess's food, and, with a big knife, slit the blind so that the light
streamed in. No sooner had she done so than a strange thing happened.
The Princess had been quite alone in the darkened compartment; then how
was it that a white hind leapt out through the window and sped away into
the forest? Long-Epine watched it, wondering. Then she looked in at the
window, but the compartment was empty. The Princess had gone!
Immediately the Princess, in the form of a white hind, had disappeared
into the forest, her good friend Giroflée began to chase after her. As
soon as she had gone, Long-Epine took the clothes of her mistress and
dressed herself up in them, and resolved to impersonate the Princess
before the young Prince. Then the carriage drove on, and in it sat
Long-Epine disguised as the Princess.
When they arrived she presented herself as Désirée; but the Prince
looked at her with horror, for she was not at all like a real Princess.
Désirée's dress, which she wore, came to her knees, and she had not
noticed that her ugly legs showed below the dress.
'This is not the Princess of the portrait,' said the Prince and his
father together. 'You took us for fools, no doubt!'
The false Princess said that it was a terrible thing to bring her away
from her kingdom to be treated in this way, and to break the word that
they had given. 'How can you do this?' she cried.
At this the Prince and his father were so angry that they did not reply
at all, but simply had the false Princess clapped in irons and put into
prison.
The Prince was so heart-broken at this new trouble that he resolved to
go and shut himself up for the remainder of his life, alone. At once he
summoned the faithful Becafigue, and told him all. Then he wrote a
letter to his father and sent it by Becafigue.
'If I never see my real Princess again,' he wrote, 'I beg of you that
at least you will keep that sham one locked up, and guard her close.'
Now all this time the Princess was in the wood, running hither and
thither as hinds do. Once or twice she looked at herself in the water of
the fountain, and saw herself so changed that she cried out: 'Is it I?
Am I this hind?' Then at last she got very hungry, and began to eat
berries and herbs, and finally sought a quiet spot and went to sleep.
The Fairy Tulip had always loved the Princess, and said that if she left
the castle before she was fifteen, she was sure that the Fairy of the
Fountain would relent and do her no harm. But, as for Giroflée, she was
all this time wandering round looking for the little Princess. She had
walked so much and now felt so tired that she lay down and went to sleep
in the forest. The next morning the Princess, seeking moss among the
ferns, found her. When she saw that it was Giroflée, she went up to her
and caressed her with her nozzle, as hinds do, and looked into her eyes
until at last Giroflée knew full well that it was the Princess turned
into a White Hind. She watched the Hind attentively and saw two large
tears fall from her eyes, and then there was not a single doubt that it
was her dear little Princess; so she put her arms around her neck, and
they wept together.
Then Giroflée told the Princess that she would never leave her, and that
she would stay with her until the end.
The Hind understood, and, to show her gratitude, took Giroflée into the
very deepest part of the forest to find her some luscious fruit which
she had seen there; but on the way Giroflée called out in alarm: she
would die of fright if she had to spend the night in such a desolate
spot; and then they both began to cry. Their cries were so pitiful that
they touched the heart of the good Fairy Tulip, and she came to their
aid.
Giroflée begged her to have pity on her young mistress, and to give her
back her natural form, but the Fairy Tulip said that it was impossible
to do that. She said that she would do what she could. She told
Giroflée that if she went into the forest, she would come to the hut of
an old woman. She was to speak her fair and ask her to take charge of
both of them. Then when night came, the Princess would change back into
her natural form; but as this could only happen at night in the hut,
they must be very careful.
Now Giroflée thanked the fairy and went, as she had told her, far into
the wood; and there, sure enough, she saw a hut and an old woman sitting
outside on a bench. She went up to her at once.
'My dear mother,' she said, 'will you allow me to have a little room in
your house for myself and my little Hind?'
'Yes, my dear daughter,' she replied, 'I will certainly give you a
room.' And she immediately took them into the hut, and then into the
dearest little room it was possible to find. It contained two little
beds all draped in pure white and beautifully clean.