being chased by one; and it looked as if either the one or the other was
the Friar's case, for he hopped high in the bramble bushes and danced as
if he had gone mad in both heels at once.
To see the good Friar dancing willy-nilly among the bramble bushes,
kicking up his heels to the tune of the pipe, higher still and
higher--oh, it was a sight for Jack's eyes, for he loved the Friar to
distraction in less ways than one. So long as Jack piped, the Friar
danced. His dress was torn to shreds, but that seemed a small matter.
The thorns did admirable work, but the Friar did not care. On with the
dance! _Tara-tara-tara-ra-ra_--the Friar seemed to be enjoying himself,
though more for Jack's benefit than his own. Faster and faster shrilled
the pipe, and faster danced the Friar, until at last he fell down among
the brambles, a sorry spectacle, still kicking his feet in the air to
the merry rhythm. Then Jack ceased piping, but only to laugh; for he
had small pity for the Friar.
'Friend Jack!' cried the Friar, gathering himself up, 'forbear, I pray
you. I am nigh to death. Permit me to depart and I will be your friend
for ever.'
'Get up and go, then,' cried Jack, 'before I begin to play again.'
The good Friar needed no further permission. What remnant of a robe was
left him he gathered up, and fled to his own home. There he clothed
himself decently and made all haste to Jack's parents.
When they saw his woebegone countenance they questioned him closely.
'I have been with your son,' he replied. 'Grammercy! By these scratches
on my face, and by others you cannot see, he is in league with the Evil
One, or I am no holy Friar. He played a tune on his pipe and I
danced--danced!--think of it! And all in the bramble bushes! Your son is
plainly lost; I hesitate to think what it will cost you to save his soul
from the devil's clutch.'
'Here is a fine thing,' exclaimed the wife, turning to her husband.
'This your son has nearly killed the holy Father!'
'Benedicite!' said the good man fervently, and the Friar wondered for a
moment what he meant exactly.
When Jack returned home his father at once asked him what he had been
doing. He replied that he had been having a merry time with the good
Friar, who was so fond of music that he could dance to it
anywhere--among bramble bushes for preference. These saints, of
course----
'But what music is this you play?' broke in his father, who was growing
vastly interested. 'I should like to hear it.'
'Heaven forfend!' cried the Friar, getting uneasy.
'Yes, yes; I should like to hear it,' persisted his father.
'Then, if that is so, and you must hear his accursed tune, I beg that
you will bind me to the door-post so that I cannot move. I have had more
than enough of it.'
They took him at his word and bound him securely to the door-post; so
that he was, so to speak, out of the dance when Jack took his pipe and
began to play.
Then had you seen a merry spectacle! At the first notes the good man and
his wife began to tread a sprightly measure, while the Friar, bound fast
to the post, squirmed and wriggled, showing plainly that he would foot
it if he could, and dispense with the brambles for once.
As the piping went on, the merry measure became a tarantelle. The staid
old folks threw off their age, and kicked their heels high in the air.
Faster and faster went the music; wilder and wilder grew the dance. The
Friar burst his bonds and joined in. Nothing was safe: chairs were
hustled into the fire; the table was pushed this way and that, and the
lighted lamp upon it was rocking.
Seeing the fury of the thing, Jack got up and led the way out into the
street, still piping. They followed; the neighbours flocked out and
joined in the dance; even those who had gone to bed rushed down, and all
followed at Jack's heels down the village street, dancing madly to his
wild piping. People jostled and fell and went on dancing on all fours,
but the Friar kept his feet, if not his head, and whirled many a maid
into the thick of it.
At length, when they had reached the village green, and the scene had
become one of indescribable confusion and abandon, Jack's father drew
near him and said, as he whirled by: 'Jack! if you have any
consideration for your poor old father, for heaven's sake, stop!'
Now the boy loved his father; so, on hearing these words, he ceased his
piping. Suddenly all came to a standstill. There was a rapid melting
away as if people had awakened from a dream in which they had been
making themselves ridiculous. And, in the midst of this, came forward
the Friar with Jack's stepmother in close attendance.
'That cursed boy!' cried he, shaking his fist at Jack. 'See here, my
fine fellow, you cannot do this kind of thing with impunity. I hereby
summon you before the Judge next Friday, and see to it that you appear
in person to answer the charges I shall bring against you.'
At this the boy raised his pipe again to his lips; but, before he could
blow a single note, they had all taken to their heels in dismay, leaving
him standing there alone in the empty square.
* * * * *
It was Friday, and the Judge, be-wigged and severe, sat on the bench,
with all the appearance of a great case before him. The Friar was there
as prosecutor; the King's Proctor was watching the case--in case; the
Public Persuader was there with his suave and well-paid manner,
admonishing all sides; Jack's parents and all his relations and friends
were there, wondering greatly whether Jack, who stood in the dock, would
live to tell the tale of what death was meted out to him.
'M'lud!' said the Friar when there was silence in court; 'I have brought
before you a wicked boy who, by associating with the Evil One, has
corrupted the manners of this community, and brought sorrow and trouble
to all. Though young he is none the less a wizard, having infernal
skill.'
'Ay, that he is,' put in the stepmother. 'He is in league--in
league----' But she got no further, for, in a trice, she was laughing as
none had ever been known to laugh.
The Judge was scandalised.
'Woman!' he said. 'This Court itself has been known to laugh, but this
behaviour on your part is unseemly.'
'Stop it!' said Jack from the dock, and he spoke short and sharp.
She ceased immediately, and then the Judge requested her to tell her
tale; but she was so exhausted that the Friar had to tell it for her.
'M'lud,' he said, 'it is simply this: the prisoner here has a pipe, and,
when he plays upon it, all who hear must dance themselves to death,
whether they like it or not.'
'Ah!' said the Judge, 'I should like to hear this Dance of Death. You
have heard it, good father, and you still live. Maybe, when I have heard
it, I shall be charmed, like the serpent, and come out to be killed at
once. Let him play his music.'
And, with this remark, the Judge sat back, while Jack took up his pipe
to play.
'Stop! stop!' cried the Friar in dismay. But Jack heeded not. At the nod
of the Judge he started up a merry tune, and immediately the whole Court
began to imagine itself a ballroom. Set to partners--cross--ladies'
chain--chassé! It was a regular whirl as the boy piped faster and
faster. The Judge himself leapt down from the bench and joined in,
holding up his robes and footing it merrily. But, when he bruised his
shins severely against the clerk's desk, he yelled for the boy to cease
piping.
'Yes, I will,' cried Jack, and as he paused with his pipe raised to his
lips they all waited on his words: 'I will, if they will all promise to
treat me properly from this time forward.'
'I think,' said the Judge, 'if you will put your pipe away, they will
consent to an amicable arrangement.'
Then he climbed back to the bench and sat himself down, and put on his
considering cap to pass sentence.
There was silence in court for some minutes. Then came in solemn tones:
'Judgment for the defendant--with costs!'
And so, all parties being satisfied, the Court adjourned, and every one
went home to supper quite happy.
[Illustration: THE FRIAR AND THE BOY
The Friar, bound fast to the post, squirmed and wriggled, showing
plainly that he would foot it if he could.
_See page 126_]
THE GREEN SERPENT
A FRENCH FAIRY TALE
There was once upon a time a very great Queen who gave birth to little
twin girls. She immediately sent out invitations to twelve fairies in
the neighbouring countries to come to the feast according to the custom
of the country--a custom that was never by any means overlooked, because
it was such a great advantage to have the fairies as guests.
When the twelve fairies were all assembled in the great hall where the
feast was to be held, they took their seats at the table--a very big
table laden with such good things to eat, and so rich, that it was past
all comprehension. No sooner had all the guests seated themselves, than
who should enter but the wicked fairy Magotine!
Now the Queen, when she saw her, felt that some disaster would follow
because she had omitted to send this fairy an invitation; but she hid
the thought deep in her mind, and off she went and found a beautiful
soft seat all embroidered in gold and inlaid with sapphires; then all
the other fairies moved up and made room for Magotine to seat herself,
saying at the same time, 'Hurry up, sister, and make your wish for the
little Princesses, and then come and sit down.'
But, before Magotine came to table, she said rudely that she was quite
big enough to eat standing. There she made a great mistake, because the
table was very high and Magotine was very small, and, in reaching up,
she fell. This misfortune only increased her bad temper.
'Madam,' said the Queen, 'I beg you to be seated at table.'
'If you had so much wished to see me here,' replied the fairy, 'you
would have sent me an invitation the same as the others. You have only
invited to your court the most beautiful, well-dressed and
good-tempered fairies, like my sisters here. With them I have no fault
to find; I, however, have one advantage over them, as you will see!'
Then all the fairies begged her to seat herself with them, and she did
so. In front of each fairy was placed a beautiful bouquet made of all
kinds of precious stones. Each took the bouquet immediately in front of
her, and there remained none at all for Magotine; and she growled
furiously between her teeth.
The Queen, quickly noticing the awful error, ran to her cabinet and came
back with a large cup all perfumed and studded outside with rubies, and
inside full of diamonds that gave forth a thousand different colours.
Going up to Magotine, she begged her to receive the present. But
Magotine only shook her head and replied: 'Keep your jewels, madam, I do
not want them. I came simply to see if you had thought of me, and I find
that you have forgotten me altogether.' And with this she gave a tap
with her wand on the table and at once all the good things were turned
into serpents, which wriggled about and hissed viciously. The other
fairies, seeing this, were filled with horror; they threw down their
serviettes and quitted the table.
While they were leaving the table the wicked little fairy Magotine, who
had come to disturb the peace, made her way to the room where the little
Princesses were asleep in a golden cot covered with a canopy studded
with diamonds, the most beautiful ever seen in the world. The other
fairies followed her to watch. Magotine stopped beside the cot, and,
taking out her wand quickly, she touched one of the little Princesses,
saying at the same time: 'I wish that you become the most ugly person
that it would be possible to find.' Then she turned to the other little
Princess; but, before she could do anything further, the other fairies
interfered, and taking a great pan full of vitriol, threw it over the
wicked Magotine. But not a drop touched her, for, before it splashed
upon the floor, she had disappeared before their very eyes.
The Queen then made her way to the cot and took out the little Princess
that Magotine had wished to be so ugly; and the Queen cried with sorrow
because, every minute as she looked at it, the child was becoming uglier
and uglier, until at last any one could see she was the ugliest baby in
the world.
Now the other good fairies consulted amongst themselves how they could
lighten this great sorrow, so they turned to the Queen and said: 'Madam,
it is not possible to undo the evil that the fairy Magotine has put upon
your child, but we will wish for her something that will help to balance
that evil.' And then they told the Queen that one day her daughter would
be extremely happy. With this the fairies took their departure, but not
before the Queen had given them all some beautiful presents; for this
custom goes on amongst all the peoples of the earth, and will continue
when other customs are forgotten.
The Queen called her ugly daughter Laideronnette, and the beautiful
daughter Bellote; and these names suited them perfectly, because
Laideronnette was frightfully ugly, and her sister was equally charming
and beautiful.
When Laideronnette was twelve years old, she went and threw herself at
the feet of the King and Queen, and begged them to allow her to go and
shut herself up in a castle far away near the Light of Dawn, and to let
her take the necessary servants and food to live there. She reminded
them that they still had Bellote, and that she was enough to console
them.
After a long while they agreed, and Laideronnette went away to her
castle near the Light of Dawn. On one side of the castle the sea came
right up to the window, and on another there was a great canal; from
still another view was a vast forest as far as the eye could see, and
beyond again a great desert.
The little Princess played musical instruments beautifully, and also had
a sweet voice just like a bird, and sang divinely; and so, with these
delights, she lived for two whole years in perfect solitude. Then, at
the end of the two years, she began to feel homesick and wished to see
her father and mother, the King and Queen; so she started on the
journey home at once, and arrived just as her sister the Princess
Bellote was going to be married.
Now as soon as they saw Laideronnette, they did not offer to kiss her or
say they were pleased to see her; and they told her she was not to come
to the marriage feast, nor to the ball afterwards. Poor little
Laideronnette said she had not come to dance and be merry; neither had
she come to the marriage feast; she had come because she felt homesick
and wanted to see her father and mother. However, she would go away back
to her castle near the Light of Dawn, for there the desert, the trees,
and the fountains never reproached her with her ugliness when she came
near them.
The King and Queen were sorry that they had been so unkind, and asked
Laideronnette to remain two or three days; but Laideronnette was so
upset that she refused. Then her sister Bellote gave her some silk, and
Bellote's betrothed gave her some ribbons. Now, if Laideronnette had
been like some people she would have thrown the silk and the ribbons at
the Princess and her future husband. But Laideronnette was not like
that, and she only felt a great sorrow in her little heart, and turned
away and took her faithful nurse with her; and all the way home towards
the Light of Dawn, Laideronnette never spoke a single word.
One day, when Laideronnette was walking in a very shaded valley in the
forest, she saw on a tree a big green serpent, who lifted his head and
said to her, 'Laideronnette, you are not the only unhappy person; look
at my horrible form, and I was born more beautiful than you.' The
Princess was so terrified to hear a serpent talk that she fled away and
remained in her room for days, in case she should see or meet the green
serpent again.
Eventually Laideronnette got tired of being shut up in her room all day
alone, so one evening she came down and went to the edge of the sea,
bewailing all the time her awful loneliness and her sad destiny, when
suddenly she saw coming towards her over the waves a little barque of a
thousand different colours and designs on its sides. The sail was
beautifully embroidered in gold, and the Princess became very curious
to see all the beauties that the barque must contain inside.
She made her way aboard. Inside she found it lined with lovely velvet,
the seats of pure gold and the walls studded with diamonds; then, all of
a sudden, the barque turned and went out to sea. The Princess ran up and
caught hold of the oars, thinking to get back to her castle; but it was
no use: she could do nothing at all. On and on went the barque and the
poor little Princess wept bitterly at this new sorrow that had come to
her.
'Magotine is doing me a bad turn again,' she thought, so she abandoned
herself to her fate, hoping that she would die. 'Just after I was
looking forward to a little pleasure in seeing my parents yesterday,
comes one catastrophe on another; and now my sister is going to be
married to a great Prince. What have I done that I should have to live
alone in a desert spot because of my ugliness? Alas! for my company I
have only a serpent--who speaks!'
These reflections brought tears from the Princess, and she gazed on
every side to see which way death was coming for her. While looking and
gazing she saw, approaching on the waves, a serpent, flashing green in
the sunlight. He came up to the side of the barque and said: 'If you are
good enough to receive help from a poor Green Serpent, tell me, for I am
in a position to save your life.'
'Death is nothing to me compared to the sight of you,' cried the
Princess; 'and, if you really want to do me a favour, never show
yourself before my eyes again.'
The Green Serpent gave a big sigh (for that is the way of serpents in
love), and, without replying at all, he dived to the bottom of the sea.
'What a horrible monster!' said the Princess to herself. 'His body is of
a thousand green colours, and he has eyes like fire. I would rather die
than that _he_ should save my life. What love can he have for me, and by
what right does he speak like a human being?'
Suddenly a voice replied to her thoughts, and it said, 'Listen,
Laideronnette, it is not my fault that I am a Green Serpent; and it will
not be for ever; but, I assure you, I am less ugly in my special way
than you are in yours. All the same, it is not my wish to pain you; I
would comfort you if you would only let me!'
The voice surprised the Princess very much, so sweet was it that she
could not hold back her tears. 'I am not crying because I am afraid to
die,' she answered, 'but I am hurt enough to weep over my ugliness. I
have nothing to live for, why should I cry for fear of dying?'
While she was thus moralising, the little barque that floated with the
wind ran into a rock and broke up into pieces, and, when all else had
sunk, there remained of the wreck only two little pieces of wood. The
poor Princess caught hold of these two little pieces and kept herself
afloat; then, happily, her feet touched a rock and she scrambled up on
to it.
Alas! what was that coming towards her now but the Green Serpent! As if
he knew that she was afraid, he moved away a little, and said: 'You
would be less afraid of me, Laideronnette, if you knew what advantages
can be had through me; it is one of the punishments of my destiny,
however, that I should frighten every one in the world.'
And with this he threw himself back into the sea, and Laideronnette
remained alone on the rock in the middle of the ocean. On whichever side
she looked she saw nothing but what would cause her despair; and
darkness began to fall, and she had no food to eat, and Laideronnette
did not know where to sleep.
'I thought,' said she sadly, 'that I should end my days at the bottom of
the sea; but without a doubt this is to be the end; what sea-monster
will come to eat me up?'
She crept higher and higher up the rock, and looked out over the sea.
Darkness was falling fast, so she took off her dress and covered her
head and face in it, so that she could not see the awful things that
would pass in the night.
After a long time she fell asleep, and dreamt that she heard the most
melodious music, and she tried to persuade herself that she was awake,
but in a second she heard a voice singing, as if to her alone:--
_'Suffer the love that wounds you:
It is a tender fire.
The love that follows and surrounds you
To your love would aspire.
Banish fear, forgo all grieving:
Love hath joys past all believing.
Suffer the love that wounds you:
It is a tender fire.'_
At the end of this song she woke up at once. 'What happiness or what
misfortune threatens me?' said she. She opened her eyes very carefully,
for she was full of fear, expecting to find herself surrounded by
monsters from the sea; but, imagine her surprise to find herself in a
chamber all glittering with gold! The bed on which she lay was perfect,
and the most beautiful to be seen anywhere in the wide world.
Laideronnette got up and went out on to a wide balcony, where she saw
all the beauties of nature before her. The gardens were full of
flowers--flowers that gave out the rarest perfume; fountains splashed
everywhere, and were surmounted by lovely figures; and outside the
gardens was a wonderful forest green with verdure. The palace and the
walls were encrusted with precious stones, the roofs and ceilings were
made of pearls, so beautifully done that it was a perfect work of art.
From the tower of the palace could be seen beyond the forest a sea calm
and placid, just like a sheet of glass, and on the sea floated thousands
of little boats with all kinds of different sails, which, when caught by
the wind, had the most lovely effect imaginable.
'Gods, sweet gods!' cried Laideronnette, 'what do I see? Where am I? Is
it possible that I am in heaven--I who yesterday was in peril in a
barque?' She walked as she spoke, then she stopped; what noise was that
she heard in her apartment? She turned and entered her room, and, coming
towards her, she saw a hundred little animated pagodas, all of
different designs. Some were very beautiful, while others were extremely
ugly. In fact there was hardly any difference between the little pagodas
and the people who inhabit the world.
The pagoda which now presented itself before Laideronnette was the
deputy of the King. It said that sometimes it went travelling all over
the world, but was allowed to do so only on one condition: namely, that
it did not talk to any one; otherwise the King would not give the
necessary permission. On its return it entertained the King by
recounting all that it had heard and seen; moreover, it held the most
precious secrets of the court. 'It will be a pleasure to serve you,
madam,' it went on, 'and everything you want we shall be delighted to
get for you; in the meantime we will play for you and dance so that you
will have plenty to make you happy.' And they all began to dance and
sing, and play on castanets and tambourines.
When they had finished, the principal pagoda said to the Princess:
'Listen, madam, these hundred pagodas are here expressly to serve you,
and any mortal thing you want in the world you have only to ask for it
and it shall be yours at once.' The little pagodas paused in their
movements and came near to Laideronnette, and she saw at a glance that
they were simply lovely. Looking inside, she saw that they contained
presents for her, some useful and others so beautiful that she could
only cry out with joy.
The biggest pagoda, which was a little figure of pure diamonds, then
came up to Laideronnette and asked her if she would now like her bath in
the little grotto. The Princess walked, between a guard of honour, to
the place it pointed to, and there she saw two beautiful baths of
crystal, and from them came such a lovely fragrance that Laideronnette
could not help remarking about it. Then she asked why there were two
bathing places, and they told her that one was for her and the other for
the King of the Pagodas.
'But where is he, then?' cried Laideronnette. 'Madam,' said they, 'at
present he is at the war; but you shall see him on his return.'
The Princess asked them if he was married, and they shook their little
top turrets, meaning that he was not. Then they told her that he was so
good and kind that he had never found any one good enough to marry.
Laideronnette then undressed herself and got into the bath, and at once
the pagodas began to sing and play. Then, when the Princess was ready to
come out of her bath, she was given a dress of shining colours, and they
all walked before her to her room, where her toilet was made by maids,
all of them quaint little pagodas.
The Princess was astounded, and expressed her delight at her great good
fortune.