and which he did not expect on his return, could not be of great value;
so he said to the apparition, “I give it.”
The apparition burst with laughter and vanished with a flash of fire,
and with it vanished also the well, the water, the wooden fence, and the
cup; and the king was again on a hillock by a little wood kneeling on
dry sand, and there was nothing more. The king got up, crossed himself,
sprang on his horse, hastened to his attendants, and rode on.
In a week or maybe a fortnight the king arrived at his capital; the
people came out in crowds to meet him; he went in procession to the great
court of the palace and entered the corridor. In the corridor stood the
queen awaiting him, and holding close to her bosom a cushion, on which
lay a child, beautiful as the moon, kicking in swaddling clothes. The
king recollected himself, sighed painfully, and said within himself:
“This is what I left without knowing and found without expecting!” And
bitterly, bitterly did he weep. All marveled, but nobody dared to ask
the cause. The king, without saying a word, took his son in his arms,
gazed long on his innocent face, carried him into the palace himself,
laid him in the cradle, and, suppressing his sorrow, devoted himself to
the government of his realm; but he was never again cheerful as formerly,
since he was perpetually tormented by the thought that some day Bony
would claim his son.
Meanwhile weeks, months, and years flowed on, and no one came for his
son. The prince, named “Unexpected,” grew and developed, and eventually
became a handsome youth. The king also in course of time regained his
usual cheerfulness, and forgot what had taken place; but alas! everybody
did not forget so easily.
Once the prince, while hunting in a forest, became separated from his
suite and found himself in a savage wilderness. Suddenly there appeared
before him a hideous old man with green eyes, who said, “How do you do,
Prince Unexpected? You have made me wait for you a long time.”
“Who are you?”
“That you will find out hereafter, but now, when you return to your
father, greet him from me, and tell him that I should be glad if he would
close accounts with me, for if he doesn’t soon get out of my debt of
himself, he will repent it bitterly.” After saying this the hideous old
man disappeared, and the prince in amazement turned his horse, rode home,
and told the king his adventure.
The king turned as pale as a sheet, and revealed the frightful secret
to his son. “Do not weep, father!” replied the prince, “it is no great
misfortune! I shall manage to force Bony to renounce the right over me,
which he tricked you out of in so underhand a manner, but if in the
course of a year I do not return, it will be a token that we shall see
each other no more.”
The prince prepared for his journey; the king gave him a suit of steel
armor, a sword, and a horse, and the queen hung round his neck a cross of
pure gold. At leave-taking they embraced affectionately, wept heartily,
and the prince rode off.
On he rode one day, two days, three days, and at the end of the fourth
day at the setting of the sun he came to the shore of the sea; and in
the selfsame bay he espied twelve dresses, white as snow, though in the
water, as far as the eye could reach, there was no living soul to be
seen—only twelve white geese were swimming at a distance from the shore.
Curious to know to whom they belonged, he took one of the dresses, let
his horse loose in a meadow, concealed himself in a neighboring thicket,
and waited to see what would come to pass. Thereupon the geese, after
disporting themselves on the sea, swam to the shore. Eleven of them went
to the dresses, each threw herself on the ground and became a beautiful
damsel, dressed herself with speed, and flew away into the plain.
The twelfth goose, the last and prettiest of all, did not venture to come
out on the shore, but only wistfully stretched out her neck, looking
on all sides. On seeing the prince she called out with a human voice:
“Prince Unexpected, give me my dress; I will be grateful to you in
return.” The prince hearkened to her, placed the dress on the grass, and
modestly turned away in another direction.
The goose came out on the grass, changed herself into a damsel, dressed
herself hastily, and stood before the prince; she was young and more
beautiful than eye had seen or ear heard of. Blushing, she gave him her
white hand, and, casting her eyes down, said with a pleasing voice: “I
thank you, good prince, for hearkening to me. I am the youngest daughter
of immortal Bony. He has twelve young daughters, and rules in the
subterranean realm. My father, prince, has long been expecting you and is
very angry. However, don’t grieve, and don’t be frightened, but do as I
tell you. As soon as you see King Bony, fall at once on your knees, and
paying no regard to his outcry, upbraiding, and threats, approach him
boldly. What will happen afterwards you will learn, but now we must part.”
On saying this the princess stamped on the ground with her little foot;
the ground sprang open at once, and they descended into the subterranean
realm, right into Bony’s palace, which shone all underground brighter
than our sun. The prince stepped boldly into the reception room. Bony
was sitting on a golden throne with a glittering crown on his head; his
eyes gleamed like two saucers of green glass and his hands were like the
nippers of a crab. As soon as the prince espied him at a distance, he
fell on his knees, and Bony yelled so horribly that the vaults of the
subterranean dominion quaked; but the prince boldly moved on his knees
towards the throne, and when he was only a few paces from it, the king
smiled and said: “Thou hast marvelous luck in succeeding in making me
smile; remain in our subterranean realm, but before thou becomest a true
citizen thereof thou art bound to execute three commands of mine; but
because it is late today, we will begin tomorrow; meanwhile go to thy
room.”
The prince slept comfortably in the room assigned to him, and early on
the morrow Bony summoned him and said: “We will see, prince, what thou
canst do. In the course of the following night build me a palace of pure
marble; let the windows be of crystal, the roof of gold, an elegant
garden round about it, and in the garden seats and fountains; if thou
buildest it, thou wilt gain thyself my love; if not, I shall command thy
head to be cut off.”
The prince heard the command, returned to his apartment, and was sitting
mournfully thinking of the death that threatened him, when outside at the
window a bee came buzzing and said, “Let me in!” He opened the lattice,
in flew the bee, and the princess, Bony’s youngest daughter, appeared
before the wondering prince.
“What are you thus thinking about, Prince Unexpected?”
“Alas! I am thinking that your father wishes to deprive me of life.”
“Don’t be afraid! Lie down to sleep, and when you get up tomorrow morning
your palace will be ready.”
So, too, it came to pass. At dawn the prince came out of his room and
espied a more beautiful palace than he had ever seen, and Bony, when he
saw it, wondered, and would not believe his own eyes.
“Well! thou hast won this time, and now thou hast my second command. I
shall place my twelve daughters before thee tomorrow; if thou dost not
guess which of them is the youngest, thou wilt place thy head beneath the
ax.”
“I unable to recognize the youngest princess!” said the prince in his
room. “What difficulty can there be in that?”
“This,” answered the princess, flying into the room in the shape of a
bee, “that if I don’t help you, you won’t recognize me, for we are all
so alike that even our father distinguishes us only by our dress.”
“What am I to do?”
“What, indeed! That will be the youngest over whose right eye you espy a
ladycow. Only look well. Adieu!”
On the morrow King Bony again summoned Prince Unexpected. The princesses
stood in a row side by side, all dressed alike and with eyes cast down.
The prince looked and marveled how alike all the princesses were; he went
past them once, twice—he did not find the appointed token; the third time
he saw a ladycow over the eyebrow of one, and cried out: “This is the
youngest princess!”
“How the deuce have you guessed it?” said Bony angrily. “There must
be some trickery here. I must deal with your lordship differently. In
three hours you will come here again, and will show your cleverness in
my presence. I shall light a straw, and you will stitch a pair of boots
before it goes out, and if you don’t do it you will perish.”
The prince returned desponding and found the bee already in his
apartment. “Why pensive again, prince?”
“How shouldn’t I be pensive, when your father wants me to stitch him a
pair of boots, for what sort of cobbler am I?”
“What else will you do?”
“What am I to do? I shan’t stitch the boots, and I’m not afraid of
death—one can die but once!”
“No, prince, you shall not die! I will endeavor to rescue you, and we
will either escape together or perish together! We must flee—there’s
nothing else to be done.”
Saying this, the princess spat on one of the window panes, and the
spittle immediately froze. She then went out of the room with the
prince, locked the door after her, and threw the key far away. Then,
taking each other by the hands, they ascended rapidly, and in a moment
found themselves on the very spot whence they had descended into the
subterranean realm; there was the selfsame sea, the selfsame fresh
meadow, and in the meadow cantered the prince’s well-fed horse, who, as
soon as he descried his rider, came galloping straight to him. The prince
didn’t stop long to think, but sprang on his horse, the princess seated
herself behind him, and off they set as swift as an arrow.
King Bony at the appointed hour did not wait for Prince Unexpected, but
sent to ask him why he did not appear. Finding the door locked, the
servants knocked at it vigorously, and the spittle answered them from the
middle of the room in the prince’s voice, “Anon.” The servants carried
this answer to the king; he waited, waited, no prince; he therefore again
sent the same servants, who heard the same answer: “Anon!” and carried
what they had heard to the king.
“What’s this? Does he mean to make fun of me?” shouted the king in wrath.
“Go at once, break the door open, and conduct him to me!”
The servants hurried off, broke open the door, and rushed in. What,
indeed? There was nobody there, and the spittle on the pane of glass
was splitting with laughter at them. Bony all but burst with rage, and
ordered them all to start off in pursuit of the prince, threatening them
with death if they returned empty-handed. They sprang on horseback and
hastened away after the prince and princess.
Meanwhile Prince Unexpected and the princess, Bony’s daughter, were
hurrying away on their spirited horse, and amidst their rapid flight
heard “Tramp, tramp,” behind them. The prince sprang from the horse, put
his ear to the ground, and said, “They are pursuing us.”
“Then,” said the princess, “we have no time to lose.” Instantly she
transformed herself into a river, changed the prince into a bridge and
the horse into a raven, and divided the grand highway beyond the bridge
into three roads. Swiftly on the fresh track hastened the pursuers, came
to the bridge, and stood stupefied; they saw the track up to the bridge,
but beyond it disappeared, and the highway divided into three roads.
There was nothing to be done but to return, and they came with naught.
Bony shouted with rage, and cried out: “A bridge and a river! It was
they. How was it that ye did not guess it? Back, and don’t return without
them!” The pursuers recommenced the pursuit.
“I hear ‘Tramp, tramp!’” whispered the princess, Bony’s daughter,
affrightedly to Prince Unexpected, who sprang from the saddle, put his
ear to the ground, and replied: “They are making haste, and are not far
off.”
That instant the princess and prince, and with them also their horse,
became a gloomy forest, in which there were roads, byroads, and footpaths
without number, and on one of them it seemed that two riders were
hastening on a horse. Following the fresh track, the pursuers came up
to the forest, and when they espied the fugitives in it, they hastened
speedily after them. On and on hurried the pursuers, seeing continually
before them a thick forest, a wide road, and the fugitives on it; now,
now they thought to overtake them, when the fugitives and the thick
forest suddenly vanished, and they found themselves at the selfsame place
whence they had started in pursuit. They returned, therefore, again to
Bony empty-handed.
“A horse, a horse! I’ll go myself! they won’t escape out of my hands!”
yelled Bony, foaming at the mouth, and started in pursuit.
Again the princess said to Prince Unexpected: “Methinks they are pursuing
us, and this time it is Bony, my father, himself, but the first church is
the boundary of his dominion, and he cannot pursue us farther. Give me
your golden cross.”
The prince took off his affectionate mother’s gift and gave it to the
princess, and in a moment she was transformed into a church, he into the
priest, and the horse into the bell; and that instant up came Bony.
“Monk!” Bony asked the priest, “hast thou not seen some travelers on
horseback?”
“Only just now Prince Unexpected rode this way with the princess, Bony’s
daughter. They came into the church, performed their devotions, gave
money for a mass for your good health, and ordered me to present their
respects to you if you should ride this way.”
Bony, too, returned empty-handed. But Prince Unexpected rode on with the
princess, Bony’s daughter, in no further fear of pursuit.
They rode gently on, when they saw before them a beautiful town, into
which the prince felt an irresistible longing to go.
“Prince,” said the princess, “don’t go; my heart forebodes misfortune
there.”
“I’ll ride there for only a short time, and look round the town, and
we’ll then proceed on our journey.”
“It’s easy enough to ride thither, but will it be as easy to return?
Nevertheless, as you absolutely desire it, go, and I will remain here in
the form of a white stone till you return; be circumspect, my beloved;
the king, the queen, and the princess, their daughter, will come out to
meet you, and with them will be a beautiful little boy—don’t kiss him,
for, if you do, you will forget me at once, and will never set eyes on me
more in the world—I shall die of despair. I will wait for you here on the
road for three days, and if on the third day you don’t return, remember
that I perish, and perish all through you.” The prince took leave and
rode to the town, and the princess transformed herself into a white stone
and remained on the road.
One day passed, a second passed, the third also passed, and nothing
was seen of the prince. Poor princess! He had not obeyed her counsel;
in the town, the king, the queen, and the princess their daughter had
come out to meet him, and with them walked a little boy, a curly-headed
chatterbox, with eyes as bright as stars. The child rushed straight into
the prince’s arms, who was so captivated by the beauty of the lad that he
forgot everything and kissed the child affectionately. That moment his
memory was darkened, and he utterly forgot the princess, Bony’s daughter.
The princess lay as a white stone by the wayside, one day, two days, and
when the third day passed and the prince did not return from the town,
she transformed herself into a cornflower, and sprang in among the rye by
the roadside. “Here I shall stay by the roadside; maybe some passer-by
will pull me up or trample me into the ground,” said she, and tears like
dewdrops glittered on the azure petals.
Just then an old man came along the road, espied the cornflower in the
rye by the wayside, was captivated by its beauty, extracted it carefully
from the ground, carried it into his dwelling, set it in a flowerpot,
watered it, and began to tend it attentively. But—O marvel!—ever since
the time that the cornflower was brought into his dwelling, all kinds
of wonders began to happen in it. Scarcely was the old man awake, when
everything in the house was already set in order, nowhere was the least
atom of dust remaining. At noon he came home—dinner was all ready, the
table set; he had but to sit down and eat as much as he wanted. The old
man wondered and wondered, till at last terror took possession of him,
and he betook himself for advice to an old witch of his acquaintance in
the neighborhood.
“Do this,” the witch advised him: “get up before the first morning dawn,
before the cocks crow to announce daylight, and notice diligently what
begins to stir first in the house, and that which does stir, cover with
this napkin: what will happen further, you will see.”
The old man did not close his eyes the whole night, and as soon as the
first gleam appeared and things began to be visible in the house, he
saw how the cornflower suddenly moved in the flowerpot, sprang out, and
began to stir about the room; when simultaneously everything began to put
itself in its place; the dust began to sweep itself clean away, and the
fire kindled itself in the stove. The old man sprang cleverly out of his
bed and placed the cloth on the flower as it endeavored to escape, when
lo! the flower became a beautiful damsel—the princess, Bony’s daughter.
“What have you done?” cried the princess. “Why have you brought life back
to me? My betrothed, Prince Unexpected, has forgotten me, and therefore
life has become distasteful to me.”
“Your betrothed, Prince Unexpected, is going to be married today; the
wedding feast is ready, and the guests are beginning to assemble.”
The princess wept, but after a while dried her tears, dressed herself in
frieze, and went into the town like a village girl. She came to the royal
kitchen, where there was great noise and bustle. She went up to the clerk
of the kitchen with humble and attractive grace, and said in a sweet
voice: “Dear sir, do me one favor: allow me to make a wedding cake for
Prince Unexpected.”
Occupied with work, the first impulse of the clerk of the kitchen was
to give the girl a rebuff; but when he looked at her, the words died on
his lips and he answered kindly: “Ah, my beauty of beauties! do what you
will; I will hand the prince your cake myself.”
The cake was soon baked, and all the invited guests, were sitting at
table. The clerk of the kitchen himself placed a huge cake on a silver
dish before the prince; but scarce had the prince made a cut in the side
of it, when lo! an unheard-of marvel displayed itself in the presence of
all. A gray tom-pigeon and a white hen-pigeon came out of the cake; the
tom-pigeon walked along the table, and the hen-pigeon walked after him,
cooing:
“Stay, stay, my pigeonet, oh stay!
Don’t from thy true love flee away;
My faithless lover I pursue,
Prince Unexpected like unto,
Who Bony’s daughter did betray.”
Scarcely had Prince Unexpected heard this cooing of the pigeon, when he
regained his lost recollection, bounced from the table, rushed to the
door, and behind the door the princess, Bony’s daughter, took him by the
hand; they went together down the corridor, and before them stood a horse
saddled and bridled.
Why delay? Prince Unexpected and the princess, Bony’s daughter, sprang
on the horse, started on the road, and at last arrived happily in the
realm of Prince Unexpected’s father. The king and the queen received them
with joy and merriment, and did not wait long before they prepared them a
magnificent wedding, the like of which eye never saw and ear never heard
of.
THE GREEDY COBBLER
(_Welsh Folk Tale—Ethics, teaching contentment_)
Once upon a time a Welsh cobbler carrying a hazel wand was walking over
London Bridge, and as he sauntered along he met an Englishman.
“Ah,” the latter exclaimed, pointing to the wand the man of Cambria used
as a cane, “where did you get it?”
“Where did I get it?” the Welshman repeated, amazed that any one should
ask such a question. “Off of a hazel bush, to be sure.”
But the stranger stared in big-eyed wonder and shook his head.
“There is only one hazel bush of that kind in all the world,” he
declared, “and under it a vast treasure is hidden. Lead me to the spot,
and I will share it with you.”
The Welshman smiled pleasantly, for he began to have visions of a
luxurious, idle life. He hated to work, and was always grumbling because
he had to hammer away at shoe lasts to make his living.
To be sure he would lead the Englishman to the spot, and once he had some
gold in his possession, he’d do nothing but feast and ride in a coach
and dance at the fair. So he said quite wearily, lest the stranger think
he seemed too eager and change his mind, “It is a long way from here, in
the Vale of Neath in my native Wales, and by my faith I have no desire to
walk that distance.”
But the Englishman coaxed, which was just what the Welshman wanted him to
do. So they turned away from London Bridge and journeyed northward across
mountains and valleys, until they came to Cambria.
After several days they came to Craig-i-Ddinas, in the lovely Vale of
Neath. The Welshman led the way to the hazel bush, beside which he had
often played when a boy, and the Englishman said, “In due time we will
begin work.”
When darkness was heavy enough to cover all trace of what they did, they
dug up the bush, and the Englishman, who happened to be a wizard, pointed
to a broad stone under the roots and said, “Below is the treasure. Do as
I bid and you shall be rich.”
And the Welshman began to feel very important, thinking how people would
honor him when he lived in a great house and wore a velvet coat.
Then the cock crowed for dawn, and they knew they must hurry away before
any of the peasants saw them. The Welshman did not wish his village
cousins to know he was there, for they would question why he had come; so
they found a vacant tinker’s hut in which to rest until darkness made it
safe for them to go to work again.
But the cobbler was too excited to sleep. The sight of the broad, flat
stone at the root of the hazel bush brought back to his mind a story he
had often heard, one that the village grandmothers used to tell when he
was a boy. Again and again he thought of it, the story of the treasure of
King Arthur.
Historians state that when the ruler of Camelot was killed in the battle
of Mount Badon, he was buried at Glastonbury, but the Welsh country
folk say that is not true. They declare Merlin carried him straight to
the lovely Vale of Neath, where he sleeps on his arms, with his Round
Table Knights beside him and all the wealth of his realm piled at his
feet. There he and his warriors will rest until the ringing of a warning
bell, when the Black and Golden Eagles go to war. Then they will rise up
and destroy every enemy of Cambria, when Britain will be governed with
justice and peace will reign as long as the world endures. Could it be
that the broad stone at the foot of the hazel tree covered the entrance
to Arthur’s cave? This the Welshman pondered until it was almost dark and
time to go to work again.
Cautiously they left the hut and approached the spot, peering in every
direction lest some one see and question them. Sturdily they pulled and
tugged at the rock, and slowly, steadily moved it, until they found an
opening like a door. Then the Englishman said in a low tone, “Behold King
Arthur’s cave! Follow me and obey.”
The Welshman followed, and a wonderful sight met his eyes. Thousands of
warriors slept in a circle on their arms, and in the midst of them, more
splendid looking than any other, lay the King of Camelot, the mighty
Arthur himself. His crown of gold was by his side, a pile of gold lay at
his feet, and beyond the circle of his followers were a thousand steeds,
all saddled and bridled as if ready for battle. Sometimes they champed as
if eager for the war cry, sometimes they drooped their heads wearily.
Noticing a bell suspended just above the treasure heap, the cobbler
pointed to it.
“Do not touch it,” the Englishman warned. “But if by accident you do,
and the warriors waken and ask if it is day, say, ‘No, sleep thou on.’
Otherwise a terrible fate will overtake you.”
They helped themselves to the gold and left the cave, and each man went
his way. The Welshman, having all the treasure he could carry, was no
longer a poor cobbler who must spend his time bending over shoe lasts. He
was richer than the mayor and could feast and ride in a coach, dance at
the fair, and live like the lords of the land.