'Lovely Princess,--I adore you, and beg you to accept my heart,
and to believe there is nothing I will not do to end your
misfortunes.--Blondel.'
This note was tied round the pigeon's neck, and he flew off with it at
once. He flew fast till he got near the tower, when a fierce wind blew
so hard against him that he could not get on. But he was not to be
beaten, but flew carefully round the top of the tower till he came to
one spot which, by some mistake, had not been enchanted like the rest.
He quickly slipped into the arbour and waited for the princess.
Before long Graziella appeared alone, and the pigeon at once fluttered
to meet her, and seemed so tame that she stopped to caress the pretty
creature. As she did so she saw it had a pink ribbon round its neck, and
tied to the ribbon was a letter. She read it over several times and then
wrote this answer:--
'You say you love me; but I cannot promise to love you without seeing
you. Send me your portrait by this faithful messenger. If I return it to
you, you must give up hope; but if I keep it you will know that to help
me will be to help yourself.--Graziella.'
Before flying back the pigeon remembered about the flower, so, seeing
one in the princess's dress, he stole it and flew away.
The prince was wild with joy at the pigeon's return with the note. After
an hour's rest the trusty little bird was sent back again, carrying a
miniature of the prince, which by good luck he had with him.
On reaching the tower the pigeon found the princess in the garden. She
hastened to untie the ribbon, and on opening the miniature case what was
her surprise and delight to find it very like the picture her governess
had painted for her. She hastened to send the pigeon back, and you can
fancy the prince's joy when he found she had kept his portrait.
'Now,' said the fairy, 'let us lose no more time. I can only make you
happy by changing you into a bird, but I will take care to give you back
your proper shape at the right time.'
The prince was eager to start, so the fairy, touching him with her wand,
turned him into the loveliest humming-bird you ever saw, at the same
time letting him keep the power of speech. The pigeon was told to show
him the way.
Graziella was much surprised to see a perfectly strange bird, and still
more so when it flew to her saying, 'Good-morning, sweet princess.'
She was delighted with the pretty creature, and let him perch on her
finger, when he said, 'Kiss, kiss, little birdie,' which she gladly did,
petting and stroking him at the same time.
After a time the princess, who had been up very early, grew tired, and
as the sun was hot she went to lie down on a mossy bank in the shade of
the arbour. She held the pretty bird near her breast, and was just
falling asleep, when the fairy contrived to restore the prince to his
own shape, so that as Graziella opened her eyes she found herself in the
arms of a lover whom she loved in return!
At the same moment her enchantment came to an end. The tower began to
rock and to split. Bonnetta hurried up to the top so that she might at
least perish with her dear princess. Just as she reached the garden, the
kind fairy who had helped the prince arrived with the fairy Placida, in
a car of Venetian glass drawn by six eagles.
[Illustration: The Fairy-Car Arrives.]
'Come away quickly,' they cried, 'the tower is about to sink!' The
prince, princess, and Bonnetta lost no time in stepping into the car,
which rose in the air just as, with a terrible crash, the tower sank
into the depths of the sea, for the fairy Marina and the mermen had
destroyed its foundations to avenge themselves on Graziella. Luckily
their wicked plans were defeated, and the good fairies took their way to
the kingdom of Graziella's parents.
They found that Queen Mutinosa had died some years ago, but her kind
husband lived on peaceably, ruling his country well and happily. He
received his daughter with great delight, and there were universal
rejoicings at the return of the lovely princess.
The wedding took place the very next day, and, for many days after,
balls, dinners, tournaments, concerts and all sorts of amusements went
on all day and all night.
All the fairies were carefully invited, and they came in great state,
and promised the young couple their protection and all sorts of good
gifts. Prince Blondel and Princess Graziella lived to a good old age,
beloved by every one, and loving each other more and more as time went
on.
_THE STORY OF DSCHEMIL AND DSCHEMILA_
There was once a man whose name was Dschemil, and he had a cousin who
was called Dschemila. They had been betrothed by their parents when they
were children, and now Dschemil thought that the time had come for them
to be married, and he went two or three days' journey, to the nearest
big town, to buy furniture for the new house.
While he was away, Dschemila and her friends set off to the neighbouring
woods to pick up sticks, and as she gathered them she found an iron
mortar lying on the ground. She placed it on her bundle of sticks, but
the mortar would not stay still, and whenever she raised the bundle to
put it on her shoulders it slipped off sideways. At length she saw the
only way to carry the mortar was to tie it in the very middle of her
bundle, and had just unfastened her sticks, when she heard her
companions' voices.
'Dschemila, what are you doing? it is almost dark, and if you mean to
come with us you must be quick!'
But Dschemila only replied, 'You had better go back without me, for I am
not going to leave my mortar behind, if I stay here till midnight.'
'Do as you like,' said the girls, and started on their walk home.
The night soon fell, and at the last ray of light the mortar suddenly
became an ogre, who threw Dschemila on his back, and carried her off
into a desert place, distant a whole month's journey from her native
town. Here he shut her into a castle, and told her not to fear, as her
life was safe. Then he went back to his wife, leaving Dschemila weeping
over the fate that she had brought upon herself.
Meanwhile the other girls had reached home, and Dschemila's mother came
out to look for her daughter.
'What have you done with her?' she asked anxiously.
'We had to leave her in the wood,' they replied, 'for she had picked up
an iron mortar, and could not manage to carry it.'
So the old woman set off at once for the forest, calling to her daughter
as she hurried along.
'Do go home,' cried the townspeople, as they heard her; 'we will go and
look for your daughter; you are only a woman, and it is a task that
needs strong men.'
But she answered, 'Yes, go; but I will go with you! Perhaps it will be
only her corpse that we shall find after all. She has most likely been
stung by asps, or eaten by wild beasts.'
The men, seeing her heart was bent on it, said no more, but told one of
the girls she must come with them, and show them the place where they
had left Dschemila. They found the bundle of wood lying where she had
dropped it, but the maiden was nowhere to be seen.
'Dschemila! Dschemila!' cried they; but nobody answered.
'If we make a fire, perhaps she will see it,' said one of the men. And
they lit a fire, and then went, one this way, and one that, through the
forest, to look for her, whispering to each other that if she had been
killed by a lion they would be sure to find some trace of it; or if she
had fallen asleep, the sound of their voices would wake her; or if a
snake had bitten her, they would at least come on her corpse.
All night they searched, and when morning broke and they knew no more
than before what had become of the maiden, they grew weary, and said to
the mother:
'It is no use. Let us go home, nothing has happened to your daughter,
except that she has run away with a man.'
'Yes, I will come,' answered she, 'but I must first look in the river.
Perhaps some one has thrown her in there.' But the maiden was not in the
river.
For four days the father and mother waited and watched for their child
to come back; then they gave up hope, and said to each other: 'What is
to be done? What are we to say to the man to whom Dschemila is
betrothed? Let us kill a goat, and bury its head in the grave, and when
the man returns we must tell him Dschemila is dead.'
Very soon the bridegroom came back, bringing with him carpets and soft
cushions for the house of his bride. And as he entered the town
Dschemila's father met him, saying, 'Greeting to you. She is dead.'
At these words the young man broke into loud cries, and it was some time
before he could speak. Then he turned to one of the crowd who had
gathered round him, and asked: 'Where have they buried her?'
'Come to the churchyard with me,' answered he; and the young man went
with him, carrying with him some of the beautiful things he had brought.
These he laid on the grass and then began to weep afresh. All day he
stayed, and at nightfall he gathered up his stuffs and carried them to
his own house. But when the day dawned he took them in his arms and
returned to the grave, where he remained as long as it was light,
playing softly on his flute. And this he did daily for six months.
* * * * *
One morning, a man who was wandering through the desert, having lost his
way, came upon a lonely castle. The sun was very hot, and the man was
very tired, so he said to himself, 'I will rest a little in the shadow
of this castle.' He stretched himself out comfortably, and was almost
asleep, when he heard a voice calling to him softly:
'Are you a ghost,' it said, 'or a man?'
He looked up, and saw a girl leaning out of a window, and he answered:
'I am a man, and a better one, too, than your father or your
grandfather.'
'May all good luck be with you,' said she; 'but what has brought you
into this land of ogres and horrors?'
'Does an ogre really live in this castle?' asked he.
'Certainly he does,' replied the girl, 'and as night is not far off he
will be here soon. So, dear friend, depart quickly, lest he return and
snap you up for supper.'
'But I am so thirsty!' said the man. 'Be kind, and give me some drink,
or else I shall die! Surely, even in this desert there must be some
spring?'
'Well, I have noticed that whenever the ogre brings back water he always
comes from that side; so if you follow the same direction perhaps you
may find some.'
The man jumped up at once and was about to start, when the maiden spoke
again:
'Tell me, where you are going?'
'Why do you want to know?'
'I have an errand for you; but tell me first whether you go east or
west.'
'I travel to Damascus.'
'Then do this for me. As you pass through our village, ask for a man
called Dschemil, and say to him: "Dschemila greets you, from the castle,
which lies far away, and is rocked by the wind. In my grave lies only a
goat. So take heart."'
And the man promised, and went his way, till he came to a spring of
water. And he drank a great draught and then lay on the bank and slept
quietly. When he woke he said to himself, 'The maiden did a good deed
when she told me where to find water. A few hours more, and I should
have been dead. So I will do her bidding, and seek out her native town
and the man for whom the message was given.'
For a whole month he travelled, till at last he reached the town where
Dschemil dwelt, and as luck would have it, there was the young man
sitting before his door with his beard unshaven and his shaggy hair
hanging over his eyes.
'Welcome, stranger,' said Dschemil, as the man stopped. 'Where have you
come from?'
'I come from the west, and go towards the east,' he answered.
'Well, stop with us awhile, and rest and eat!' said Dschemil. And the
man entered; and food was set before him, and he sat down with the
father of the maiden and her brothers, and Dschemil. Only Dschemil
himself was absent, squatting on the threshold.
'Why do you not eat too?' asked the stranger. But one of the young men
whispered hastily:
'Leave him alone. Take no notice! It is only at night that he ever
eats.'
So the stranger went on silently with his food. Suddenly one of
Dschemil's brothers called out and said: 'Dschemil, bring us some
water!' And the stranger remembered his message and said:
'Is there a man here named "Dschemil"? I lost my way in the desert, and
came to a castle, and a maiden looked out of the window and----'
'Be quiet,' they cried, fearing that Dschemil might hear. But Dschemil
had heard, and came forward and said:
'What did you see? Tell me truly, or I will cut off your head this
instant!'
'My lord,' replied the stranger, 'as I was wandering, hot and tired,
through the desert, I saw near me a great castle, and I said aloud, "I
will rest a little in its shadow." And a maiden looked out of a window
and said, "Are you a ghost or a man?" And I answered. "I am a man, and a
better one, too, than your father or your grandfather." And I was
thirsty and asked for water, but she had none to give me, and I felt
like to die. Then she told me that the ogre, in whose castle she dwelt,
brought in water always from the same side, and that if I too went that
way most likely I should come to it. But before I started she begged me
to go to her native town, and if I met a man called Dschemil I was to
say to him, "Dschemila greets you, from the castle which lies far away,
and is rocked by the wind. In my grave lies only a goat. So take
heart."'
Then Dschemil turned to his family and said:
'Is this true? and is Dschemila not dead at all, but simply stolen from
her home?'
'No, no,' replied they, 'his story is a pack of lies. Dschemila is
really dead. Everybody knows it.'
'That I shall see for myself,' said Dschemil, and, snatching up a spade,
hastened off to the grave where the goat's head lay buried.
And they answered, 'Then hear what really happened. When you were away,
she went with the other maidens to the forest to gather wood. And there
she found an iron mortar, which she wished to bring home; but she could
not carry it, neither would she leave it. So the maidens returned
without her, and as night was come, we all set out to look for her, but
found nothing. And we said, "The bridegroom will be here to-morrow, and
when he learns that she is lost, he will set out to seek her, and we
shall lose him too. Let us kill a goat, and bury it in her grave, and
tell him she is dead." Now you know, so do as you will. Only, if you go
to seek her, take with you this man with whom she has spoken that he may
show you the way.'
'Yes; that is the best plan,' replied Dschemil; 'so give me food, and
hand me my sword, and we will set out directly.'
But the stranger answered: 'I am not going to waste a whole month in
leading you to the castle! If it were only a day or two's journey I
would not mind; but a month--no!'
'Come with me then for three days,' said Dschemil, 'and put me in the
right road, and I will reward you richly.'
'Very well,' replied the stranger, 'so let it be.'
For three days they travelled from sunrise to sunset, then the stranger
said: 'Dschemil?'
'Yes,' replied he.
'Go straight on till you reach a spring, then go on a little farther,
and soon you will see the castle standing before you.'
'So I will,' said Dschemil.
'Farewell, then,' said the stranger, and turned back the way he had
come.
It was six and twenty days before Dschemil caught sight of a green spot
rising out of the sandy desert, and knew that the spring was near at
last. He hastened his steps, and soon was kneeling by its side, drinking
thirstily of the bubbling water. Then he lay down on the cool grass, and
began to think. 'If the man was right, the castle must be somewhere
about. I had better sleep here to-night, and to-morrow I shall be able
to see where it is.' So he slept long and peacefully. When he awoke the
sun was high, and he jumped up and washed his face and hands in the
spring, before going on his journey. He had not walked far, when the
castle suddenly appeared before him, though a moment before not a trace
of it could be seen. 'How am I to get in?' he thought. 'I dare not
knock, lest the ogre should hear me. Perhaps it would be best for me to
climb up the wall, and wait to see what will happen.' So he did, and
after sitting on the top for about an hour, a window above him opened,
and a voice said: 'Dschemil!' He looked up, and at the sight of
Dschemila, whom he had so long believed to be dead, he began to weep.
'Dear cousin,' she whispered, 'what has brought you here?'
'My grief at losing you.'
'Oh! go away at once. If the ogre comes back he will kill you.'
'I swear by your head, queen of my heart, that I have not found you
only to lose you again! If I must die, well, I must!'
'Oh, what can I do for you?'
'Anything you like!'
'If I let you down a cord, can you make it fast under your arms, and
climb up?'
'Of course I can,' said he.
So Dschemila lowered the cord, and Dschemil tied it round him, and
climbed up to her window. Then they embraced each other tenderly, and
burst into tears of joy.
'But what shall I do when the ogre returns?' asked she.
'Trust to me,' he said.
Now there was a chest in the room, where Dschemila kept her clothes. And
she made Dschemil get into it, and lie at the bottom, and told him to
keep very still.
He was only hidden just in time, for the lid was hardly closed when the
ogre's heavy tread was heard on the stairs. He flung open the door,
bringing men's flesh for himself and lamb's flesh for the maiden. 'I
smell the smell of a man!' he thundered. 'What is he doing here?'
'How could any one have come to this desert place?' asked the girl, and
burst into tears.
'Do not cry,' said the ogre; 'perhaps a raven has dropped some scraps
from his claws.'
'Ah, yes, I was forgetting,' answered she. 'One did drop some bones
about.'
'Well, burn them to powder,' replied the ogre, 'so that I may swallow
it.'
So the maiden took some bones and burned them, and gave them to the
ogre, saying, 'Here is the powder, swallow it.'
And when he had swallowed the powder the ogre stretched himself out and
went to sleep.
In a little while the man's flesh, which the maiden was cooking for the
ogre's supper, called out and said:
'Hist! Hist!
A man lies in the kist!'
And the lamb's flesh answered:
'He is your brother,
And cousin of the other.'