Once upon a time there lived a King and a Queen who had one daughter
called Rainbow. When she was christened, the people of the city were
gathered together outside the cathedral, and amongst them was an old
gipsy woman. The gipsy wanted to go inside the cathedral, but the Beadle
would not let her, because he said there was no room. When the ceremony
was over, and the King and Queen walked out, followed by the Head Nurse
who carried the baby, the gipsy called out to them:
"Your daughter will be very beautiful, and as happy as the day is long,
until she sees the Spring!" And then she disappeared in the crowd.
The King and the Queen took counsel together and the King said: "That
gipsy was evidently a fairy, and what she said bodes no good."
"Yes," said the Queen, "there is only one thing to be done: Rainbow must
never see the Spring, nor even hear that there is such a thing."
So an order was issued to the whole city, that if any one should say the
word "Spring" in the presence of Princess Rainbow he would have his head
cut off. Moreover, it was settled that the Princess should never be
allowed to go outside the palace, and during the springtime she should
be kept entirely indoors.
The King and the Queen lived in a city which was on the top of a hill,
and had a wall round it, and the King's palace was in the middle of it.
In the springtime Rainbow was taken to a high tower which looked on to
the little round city, and from her window you could see the spires of
the churches, the ramparts, and the broad green plain beyond. But a
curtain made of canvas was fastened outside Rainbow's window, so that
she could see nothing, and she was not allowed to go outside her tower
until the springtime was over.
Rainbow grew up into a most beautiful Princess, with grey eyes and fair
hair, and until she was sixteen all went well, and nothing happened to
interfere with her happiness.
It was on her sixteenth birthday, which was in April, and she was
sitting alone in her room, looking at her birthday presents, when she
began to wonder for the first time why she was shut up in her tower
during three months of the year, and why a curtain was placed outside
her window, so that she could see nothing outside. Her mother and her
nurse had told her that this was done so that she might not fall ill,
and she had always believed it; but on that day, for the first time, she
began to wonder whether there might be any other reason as well. It was
a lovely Spring day, and the sun shone through the canvas curtain which
was stretched outside Rainbow's open window; a breeze came into her room
from the outside world, and Rainbow felt a great longing to tear aside
the curtain and to see what was happening out of doors.
At that very moment, a sound came into her room from the city: it was
the sound of two or three notes played on some small reed or pipe,
unlike those of any of the musical instruments she had heard in the
palace, more tuneful and more artless and more gay. As she heard the few
reedy notes of this little tune, she felt something which she had never
known before. The whole room seemed to be full of a new sunshine, and
she smelt the fragrance of the grass; she heard the blackbird whistling,
and the lark singing; she saw the apple orchards in blossom, the violets
peeping from under the leaves, the hedges covered with primroses, the
daffodils fluttering in the wind, the fern uncrumpling her new leaves,
the green slopes starred with crocuses; fields of buttercups and
marigolds; forests paved with bluebells; lilac bushes; the trailing gold
of the laburnums; and the sharp green of the awakening beech-trees; and
she heard the cuckoo's note, and a thousand other unknown sounds of
meadow, wood, and stream; and before her passed the whole pageant of the
Spring, with its joyous music and its thousand and one sights.
The vision disappeared and she cried out: "Let me go into the world and
let me taste and see this wonderful new thing!"
Rainbow said nothing about her vision, either to her parents or to her
nurses, but she resolved to steal out of the palace as soon as she
could, and to see in the world what her vision had shown her; but that
very evening she fell ill, and she was obliged to go to bed. The next
day she was no better, and a week passed and she was just as ill as
ever. All the wisest physicians of the land examined her, but not one of
them could say what was the matter with her; some of them prescribed
medicines, and others strange things to eat and drink; but none of them
did her the least good. The months went by, and Rainbow was still lying
in bed, suffering from a strange malady which nobody could even find a
name for. When the Spring was past, Rainbow was borne on a couch into
the garden of the palace; but she got no better.
At last the Queen sent for a Wise Woman who lived in a wood near the
city, and asked her advice. The Wise Woman was told Rainbow's history
and what the gipsy had said, and after she had looked at Rainbow and
spoken to her, she said to the Queen:
"I understand quite well what has happened. Your daughter has seen the
Spring."
"But that's impossible," said the Queen, "for during the whole of the
Spring months she has never left her room."
"Somehow or other the Spring has reached her," said the old woman, and
then she asked Rainbow some more questions, and the end of this was that
Rainbow told her about the tune she had heard on her birthday, and the
vision she had seen.
"I knew it," said the old woman, "she heard somebody playing the
Spring's own tune, and she won't get well until she hears it again, and
even then her troubles will be far from ended." So saying the old woman
went away.
The King at once sent for the court musicians and told them to play the
Spring's Song. They fiddled, and they blew upon every kind of pipe and
flute; they beat the cymbals and struck the harp; but none of these
tunes kindled the slightest interest in Rainbow or roused her from her
listlessness. The King then issued a proclamation saying that whoever
should play the song that cured Rainbow would receive any reward he
should ask for, and even, if he wished it, his daughter's hand.
The news was spread far and wide, and people came from the four corners
of the world to play to the Princess.
First of all a lad came from the northern country, where he had slain a
huge dragon in single combat, and he said that if any one knew the Song
of Spring he did, for the birds themselves had taught it him; and when
he was shown into the Princess's room he blew a blast on his horn, so
strong that the rafters trembled, and so sweet that the palace seemed to
be full of the scent of the northern forests. But Rainbow paid no heed,
and the lad went his way.
Then an uncouth minstrel came from Greece; he had furry ears and a
pointed beard, and he played on a double pipe and he said: "I know the
Song of Spring if any one knows it, for the bees taught it me." He
breathed on his pipe and the whole room seemed to be full of the smell
of thyme, the murmur of reeds, and the drone of bees. But Rainbow paid
no heed to him, and the uncouth minstrel went his way.
Then there came a man who carried a lyre. His face was beautiful and
sad, and he said: "I know the Song of Spring if any one knows it, for I
heard it played in the happy fields." And he struck his lyre and sang a
song which was so lovely and so plaintive that the horses neighed in
their stalls, the dogs came to listen, and the trees of the garden bent
over the palace windows, and the King and the Queen and all the
courtiers wept: but Rainbow paid no heed, and the man with the lyre went
his way.
Then came a knight from over the sea, from the West Country; and he was
the most splendid knight ever seen, and he carried neither harp nor
pipe, and he said: "I know the Song of Spring if any one knows it, for
I learnt it in the forests of Tintagel:" and he sang the song that only
those who dwell in the forests of the West know, and it was a song of
love. But Rainbow paid no heed, and the knight went his way.
Then Prince Charming came from the Golden Isles and said: "I know the
Song of Spring if any one knows it, for my fairy-godmother gave me a
flute, and when I play on it the elves dance round me in a ring": and he
played a tune on his flute, and the lights and rainbows of the golden
islands seemed to twinkle in the room. But Rainbow paid no heed, so
Prince Charming went his way.
Then there came a Prince who was a changeling and who had been brought
up in Fairyland itself, and he said: "I know the Song of Spring if any
one knows it, for Proserpine, the Queen of the Fairies, herself taught
me the song she heard in the Vales of Enna, when she was picking flowers
in the Spring." And he sang of the Sicilian fields, a song of the
swallow and the corn; and the song was like a vision, and the room
seemed to be full of the sound of the southern seas; but Rainbow paid no
heed, and the changeling went his way.
Then Prince Apollo himself came from Italy with his fiddle, and he said:
"If I do not know the Song of Spring, who can know it? For my music
excels that of all mortal men."
Prince Apollo struck up a tune on his fiddle and the room was filled
with a glory; but Rainbow paid no heed, and Prince Apollo went away in a
rage, saying that the Princess had no ear.
After this people gave up the quest, for they said: "If all these great
people fail, how should we succeed?" Now it happened one day, when the
springtime came round again, that two tumblers were playing at ball in
the Princess's room to try and amuse her, and one of them in throwing,
threw the ball and broke the pane of her casement; so a glass mender was
sent for to mend the window, and there happened to be one that day just
outside the palace.
The glass mender was a youth, and his eyes were blue and his cheeks
fresh, and as he strode up the staircase to the Princess's room, he
whistled on a small glass pipe the tune that glass menders have always
whistled ever since the beginning of the world. Directly Rainbow heard
this sound, she leaped from her bed and cried out:
"That is it! I hear it, the Song of Spring!" And as the glass mender
came into the room with his basket and his tools, she said: "At last
you've come! You've cured me, and I am now quite well again."
There was no doubt about it. Rainbow from that moment was cured, and the
glass mender went to the King and claimed his reward.
At first the King was vexed that his daughter should have to wed a
humble glass mender, but he did not dare play any tricks with his
daughter's life after what had happened, for fear she should fall ill
again; and besides, Rainbow was determined to marry him, and as he was
so young, so handsome, and so well-spoken, the King told the Queen that
he was very likely a Prince in disguise.
But the glass mender made two conditions about his marriage: the first
was that he was to continue to be a wandering glass mender who earned
his living by going from city to city, and from village to village,
mending glass, and the second was that Rainbow was never to ask him
where he came from nor who were his parents, and that she should call
him Blue Eyes, nor ever ask him whether he had another name.
This convinced the King that Blue Eyes was a Prince in disguise, and the
conditions were readily agreed to, and Rainbow and Blue Eyes were
married without further delay. The King gave them each a white pony for
a wedding present and they started off on their travels.
They rode through the fields and the woods, from village to village,
sleeping now in a house and now out of doors, and for the first time in
her life Rainbow tasted and saw the Spring; and no words can tell how
happy they were: all day long Blue Eyes played a tune on his glass
pipe, and he showed Rainbow the haunts of the birds and the beasts; and
whenever they came to a village it was as though they brought the
sunshine of the morning with them, for as soon as any one looked at Blue
Eyes, they could not help being happy, and when he played on his pipe
people danced for joy. They wandered over the wide world, and they saw
every kind of country and city, and wherever they went smiling faces met
them and they made sad people happy, and happy people happier still.
When they were in the woods or meadows the birds and beasts seemed to
know Blue Eyes, and he talked with them just as if they were real
people; and the most savage beasts--wolves and bears and wild
boars--were as tame as lap-dogs when he spoke to them; and the
nightingales used to perch on Blue Eyes' shoulder in the evening, and
sing, as he rode with Rainbow through the forest; the bees and
butterflies used to fly in front of them and show them the way.
The years went by and they had a little son who was called Blue Boy,
who grew up just like his father, and talked with the birds and beasts
directly he could speak, and they were all three of them together as
happy as the day is long.
One Spring evening they arrived rather late in a wood, and after they
had made a fire and cooked their supper, Rainbow and Blue Boy went to
sleep, and Blue Eyes sat by the fire for he said he wasn't sleepy.
After Rainbow had been sleeping for a few hours she woke up with a
start. The moon had risen and the camp-fire had not yet gone out, but
the ashes were smouldering and there by the fire sat Blue Eyes. Rainbow
could see him distinctly, but he seemed to her to look different from
usual; strange, beautiful, and more like a fairy Prince than a glass
mender. Sitting with him by the fire was a lovely maiden with roses in
her hair and some ears of wheat in her hand, and a silver sickle hanging
from her girdle. They were talking together. Rainbow was so surprised
that she uttered a cry, and immediately the beautiful maiden vanished
into the wood. Blue Eyes at once went to Rainbow, but she turned over
on her side and pretended to be asleep.
The next day Blue Eyes said nothing about the strange maiden, and
Rainbow began to be jealous and sad. She tried not to think of it, but
she could not get rid of the thought that perhaps Blue Eyes loved
somebody else. The next evening they again camped out in the wood, and
Rainbow said she was tired and lay down to sleep early; but she only
pretended to go to sleep, and she was really wide awake.
As soon as Blue Eyes thought that Rainbow was asleep, he blew a note on
his glass pipe, and once more the strange maiden came out of the wood,
and she and Blue Eyes talked together in a whisper, and once more Blue
Eyes seemed to look quite different, and not at all like a glass mender,
only, as it was dark that night, Rainbow could not see him distinctly.
The next morning Blue Eyes again said nothing about the strange maiden,
and Rainbow was sadder than ever. If Blue Eyes would only explain, she
said to herself, everything would be all right. So as they were riding
through the wood, Rainbow said to him:
"I saw you in the wood last night talking to a strange maiden; and, Blue
Eyes, you looked different. I am sure now that you are not a glass
mender; and now that I have seen you talking to that strange maiden, I
shall have no peace until you tell me who you are and who she is."
"Alas, alas, alas!" said Blue Eyes. "Oh; Rainbow, why could you not
trust me? I must tell you now, whether I wish it or no, but you have
destroyed our happiness, and I shall have to leave you. My name is
Spring, and I was talking to my sister Summer; and now I shall have to
leave you, for I can only take a mortal shape as long as nobody knows
who I am."
Then Rainbow wept bitterly, and said:
"Do you mean you must leave me for ever, and that I shall never see you
again?"
"There is one hope left," said Blue Eyes. "We shall meet again if you
are able to find me. You will have to search all over the world, and you
will not find me until you recognise my look and my voice in the speech
or the look of a human being; and if you fail to recognise it, when it
is there, you will never find me at all."
"And when I recognise you either in the speech or the look of a human
being," said Rainbow, "what must I do then?"
"Then," said Blue Eyes, "you must say this:
'Blue Eyes, Blue Eyes, come back to me,
Over the hills and over the sea;
Brother of Summer, husband and friend,
Come and stay till the world shall end.'"
"But what will happen," asked Rainbow, "if I make a mistake and say the
rhyme to some one who seems to have your look and your speech, when
really they are not there?"
"If you make a mistake," said Blue Eyes, "you will never see me again."
Rainbow again began to weep bitterly. She implored Blue Eyes to forgive
her, but she no longer begged him to stay, for she knew it was useless;
and Blue Eyes kissed her and Blue Boy, and when he had said good-bye, he
leapt on to his pony and galloped off into the wood. As he galloped away
his appearance changed; his glass mender's clothes fell away from him;
instead of his blue cap, there was a crown of dew on his head, and he
was clothed with the petals of snowdrops and cowslips; he wore a rainbow
for a scarf, which fluttered in the wind; his pony changed into a white
horse with silver wings; in his hand he carried a large wand of almond
blossom, and a starling perched on his wrist. And as he galloped through
the wood, the hoofs of his steed left behind them a trail of twinkling
anemones. Thus he galloped on until he disappeared into the heart of the
forest, and Rainbow was left alone with Blue Boy.
After she had had a long cry she dried her eyes and began at once to
look for Blue Eyes. She wandered on through the wood with Blue Boy until
they came to a hermit's cave. The hermit lived there all the year round,
and his only companions were the birds and the beasts of the forest,
and Rainbow thought if she talked to him she would perhaps hear the
voice or see the look of Blue Eyes. But when she spoke to him she saw
that he had forgotten what human beings were like, and he gave Rainbow
and Blue Boy some bread and milk just as though they were birds. Then he
opened his big book and began reading in it, and no longer noticed their
presence.
The months went by, and Rainbow searched everywhere. She searched all
through the summer, and although she met many kind faces, and saw many a
happy smile, and heard many a young voice, nowhere did she meet any one
who in the least reminded her of Blue Eyes.
When the winter came, they went to a city, and Blue Boy, who was growing
up into a big boy, was apprenticed to a glass mender, and Rainbow and he
lived together in a little room in the glass mender's house. The glass
mender had a pretty daughter called Joan, and she had a tame blackbird
which she kept in a wicker cage. All through the winter the city had
been muffled in snow, and it had been bitterly cold; at last the snow
melted; and March came with his boisterous wind and his cold showers of
sleet and rain.
But one day the rain stopped; the sun shone in the blue sky, and Joan
cried out:
"This is the first Spring day!" She ran out of doors with her bird cage
and hung it up on the wall outside the house, and although there were as
yet no green leaves anywhere, the blackbird knew that the spring had
come, and he began to sing. While Joan was looking at the blackbird,
Rainbow was watching her from her window, and was thinking to herself.
"Surely now I shall hear the voice of Blue Eyes or see his look!" She
was on the point of calling out:
"Blue Eyes, Blue Eyes, come back to me,"
when Joan looked up at her and met her gaze; and laughed, and blushed,
and ran away. Rainbow knew that it was neither the voice nor the look of
Blue Eyes; and she cried from disappointment.
By the time the spring was over, Blue Boy had learned his trade, and he
was able to work on his own account and to support his mother, so they
left the city together when the summer came, and they went from village
to village and from city to city, mending broken window panes.
The years went by. Blue Boy was almost a man, and still Rainbow had not
come across any one who had reminded her of Blue Eyes. She was sad,
because she knew that in a year's time Blue Boy would be a man, and that
it would be time for him to marry, and that she would then be left all
alone. She knew that this was the last year that she and Blue Boy would
be together.
One day they were walking through a grassy wood which was yellow with
cowslips. It was a lovely April morning, and in the wood a lot of
children were playing, and making chains and wreaths with the cowslips.
"Now, at last," thought Rainbow, "I shall hear the voice of Blue Eyes."
She ran up to the children, but when the children saw her running
towards them, they were frightened, and they ran away into the wood,
and although she called and called they would not come back.
A little further on they came to a lovely village on a hill, overlooking
a river which was a small arm of the sea. The hill was covered with
orchards which were in full blossom, and in front of the little white
straw-thatched cottages the neat flower-beds were full of sweet-smelling
violets.
Rainbow and Blue Boy stayed in this village, and found plenty of work.
One evening Rainbow was strolling in a lane on the top of the hill; the
steep lane had on each side of it two grassy banks, on the top of which
bushes and brambles and nut-trees grew so thickly that the ends of their
boughs almost met across the lane, and the banks were covered with
primroses. Walking along this lane, with their faces towards the sunset,
Rainbow met a youth and a maiden; they were whispering to each other
little broken words, with many sighs and smiles, and their talk was like
the talk of two birds.
Rainbow's heart leapt as she heard them, and she was just going to cry
out:
"Blue Eyes, Blue Eyes, come back to me,"
when they caught sight of her and stopped talking, and Rainbow knew that
Blue Eyes was not there.
Then came the month of May, and the woods grew green and the lilac
blossomed, and Rainbow grew sadder and sadder. One night she could not
sleep, and she got up and walked through the moonlit village, right down
to the quay by the river-side where the fishermen kept their boats and
their nets. Many of the fishermen were out fishing on the sea, and one
of them, a young lad, was setting the brown sail of his boat on the
river, and as he did so, he sang a song which was like this:
"I have a cottage I love well,
In the sweet west countree:
And there my love and I shall dwell,
When I come back from sea.
We'll stow the sail and stow the oar,
And oh, how glad she'll be
To mend the nets upon the shore,
When I come back from sea.
I have a cottage on the hill,
Just right for her and me,
And she will say 'I love you still,'
When I come back from sea."
The fisherman's voice was so glad and joyous as he sang this song, that
Rainbow thought Blue Eyes must be there, and she ran to the shore. At
that moment the moonlight fell full upon the fisherman, so that Rainbow
could see his face, and she stopped herself calling out just in time,
for she saw he was not at all like Blue Eyes.
During that same month Blue Boy fell in love with a Dairy Maid called
Cherry-Ripe, and it was arranged that they should be married at
Michaelmas. But as Michaelmas drew near, Rainbow grew sadder and sadder,
because she could not bear to think what she would do without Blue Boy.
September came, and the corn was carried, and the leaves began to turn
gold. On Michaelmas Eve, Rainbow was sitting in her garden watching the
autumn sunset. Not far from her garden, which was on the side of a steep
hill, there was a quarry in which there was an old seat, and this was a
favourite spot for lovers, for from this place you could see the little
river, all the village and the sea beyond, and the view was beautiful.
Rainbow thought she would walk to the quarry, so as to get a better view
of the sunset.
When she got there, she saw an old couple sitting on the seat. The man
was a fisherman; his face was bronzed and wrinkled by the wind and the
waves, and the woman's hair was grey and silvery. They did not notice
Rainbow coming, and the old woman said to the man:
"Do you remember how we used to meet here in the days when you were
courting me?"
And the old man said: "It was in the spring, and the apple-trees were
out."
And the old woman said: "Ah! I was a comely lass then. There was no one
like me in the village. Folks wouldn't believe it now, what with my
white hair and my wrinkles."
And the old man said: "I see no difference in you, lassie. You've the
same lovely blue eyes as you always had, and if your hair has turned
silver, it's none the less fair for that."
And the old woman said: "And I see no difference in you, Sweetheart;
you're just as strong and as brave as ever."
And the old man said: "Why, it's forty years ago, but it makes nought to
us, for as long as I've got you, and you've got me, we shan't see any
change in each other, for with us it has always been springtide and
courting time, and it always will be."
And the old man looked at the old woman, and smiled and took her hand,
and her eyes filled with tears. And when Rainbow saw this, before she
knew what happened, she had called out:
"Blue Eyes, Blue Eyes, come back to me,
Over the hills and over the sea.
Brother of Summer, husband and friend,
Come and stay till the world shall end."
As soon as she had said this, Blue Eyes stood before her just as he had
been when he rode away, clothed in snowdrops and cowslips, wearing the
rainbow for a scarf, and carrying a branch of blossom in his hand.
Rainbow was so glad to see Blue Eyes that she almost fainted. She led
him to her cottage, and there she wept a long time for joy. Then Blue
Eyes told her that he would never leave her again, but that he could not
live on the earth a second time in the guise of a glass mender. During
the spring they would ride through the world, scattering sunshine,
laughter, and hope; mortals would see them, but they would not know who
they were. During the summer and the autumn they would be invisible to
mortals, and during the winter they would slumber in the Diamond Palace
of his mother, the Snow Queen.
They waited to see Blue Boy and Cherry-Ripe married, and Blue Eyes gave
them as a wedding present a little glass pipe, which, whenever he played
it, brought the spring into the hearts of all who heard it. And Blue
Eyes promised that whenever Blue Boy whistled on the pipe, he and
Rainbow would immediately answer his call and come to him.
When the wedding was over, Blue Eyes gave Rainbow his scarf, and they
mounted on two winged steeds and galloped off through the lanes. Now if
you ever meet in a wood or by a river a man with blue eyes, on a winged
horse, with a crown of dew, and a tunic of snowdrops and cowslips, and
by his side, on a white pony, a beautiful woman wearing the rainbow for
a scarf, and holding a branch of blossom in her hand, you will know it
is Blue Eyes and Rainbow.
And if ever you hear on a spring morning, in a city or a village, three
little notes played on a pipe which make your heart dance for joy, you
will know that Blue Boy is calling for his father and his mother; for he
does this very often.