In the old, old days when men were wiser than they are in these times,
there lived a great philosopher and magician, by name Nicholas Flamel.
Not only did he know all the actual sciences, but the black arts as
well, and magic, and what not. He conjured demons so that when a body
passed the house of a moonlight night a body might see imps, great and
small, little and big, sitting on the chimney stacks and the ridge-pole,
clattering their heels on the tiles and chatting together.
He could change iron and lead into silver and gold; he discovered the
elixir of life, and might have been living even to this day had he
thought it worth while to do so.
There was a student at the university whose name was Gebhart, who was so
well acquainted with algebra and geometry that he could tell at a single
glance how many drops of water there were in a bottle of wine. As
for Latin and Greek--he could patter them off like his A B C’s.
Nevertheless, he was not satisfied with the things he knew, but was for
learning the things that no schools could teach him. So one day he came
knocking at Nicholas Flamel’s door.
“Come in,” said the wise man, and there Gebhart found him sitting in the
midst of his books and bottles and diagrams and dust and chemicals and
cobwebs, making strange figures upon the table with jackstraws and a
piece of chalk--for your true wise man can squeeze more learning out of
jackstraws and a piece of chalk than we common folk can get out of all
the books in the world.
No one else was in the room but the wise man’s servant, whose name was
Babette.
“What is it you want?” said the wise man, looking at Gebhart over the
rim of his spectacles.
“Master,” said Gebhart, “I have studied day after day at the university,
and from early in the morning until late at night, so that my head has
hummed and my eyes were sore, yet I have not learned those things that
I wish most of all to know--the arts that no one but you can teach. Will
you take me as your pupil?”
The wise man shook his head.
“Many would like to be as wise as that,” said he, “and few there be who
can become so. Now tell me. Suppose all the riches of the world were
offered to you, would you rather be wise?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose you might have all the rank and power of a king or of an
emperor, would you rather be wise?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose I undertook to teach you, would you give up everything of joy
and of pleasure to follow me?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you are hungry,” said the master.
“Yes,” said the student, “I am.”
“Then, Babette, you may bring some bread and cheese.”
It seemed to Gebhart that he had learned all that Nicholas Flamel had to
teach him.
It was in the gray of the dawning, and the master took the pupil by the
hand and led him up the rickety stairs to the roof of the house, where
nothing was to be seen but gray sky, high roofs, and chimney stacks from
which the smoke rose straight into the still air.
“Now,” said the master, “I have taught you nearly all of the science
that I know, and the time has come to show you the wonderful thing that
has been waiting for us from the beginning when time was. You have given
up wealth and the world and pleasure and joy and love for the sake of
wisdom. Now, then, comes the last test--whether you can remain faithful
to me to the end; if you fail in it, all is lost that you have gained.”
After he said that he stripped his cloak away from his shoulders and
laid bare the skin. Then he took a bottle of red liquor and began
bathing his shoulder-blades with it; and as Gebhart, squatting upon
the ridge-pole, looked, he saw two little lumps bud out upon the smooth
skin, and then grow and grow and grow until they became two great wings
as white as snow.
“Now then,” said the master, “take me by the belt and grip fast, for
there is a long, long journey before us, and if you should lose your
head and let go your hold you will fall and be dashed to pieces.”
Then he spread the two great wings, and away he flew as fast as the
wind, with Gebhart hanging to his belt.
Over hills, over dales, over mountains, over moors he flew, with the
brown earth lying so far below that horses and cows looked like pismires
and men like fleas.
Then, by-and-by, it was over the ocean they were crossing, with the
great ships that pitched and tossed below looking like chips in a puddle
in rainy weather.
At last they came to a strange land, far, far away, and there the master
lit upon a sea-shore where the sand was as white as silver. As soon as
his feet touched the hard ground the great wings were gone like a puff
of smoke, and the wise man walked like any other body.
At the edge of the sandy beach was a great, high, naked cliff; and the
only way of reaching the top was by a flight of stone steps, as slippery
as glass, cut in the solid rock.
The wise man led the way, and the student followed close at his heels,
every now and then slipping and stumbling so that, had it not been for
the help that the master gave him, he would have fallen more than once
and have been dashed to pieces upon the rocks below.
At last they reached the top, and there found themselves in a desert,
without stick of wood or blade of grass, but only gray stones and skulls
and bones bleaching in the sun.
In the middle of the plain was a castle such as the eyes of man never
saw before, for it was built all of crystal from roof to cellar.
Around it was a high wall of steel, and in the wall were seven gates of
polished brass.
The wise man led the way straight to the middle gate of the seven, where
there hung a horn of pure silver, which he set to his lips. He blew
a blast so loud and shrill that it made Gebhart’s ears tingle. In an
instant there sounded a great rumble and grumble like the noise of
loud thunder, and the gates of brass swung slowly back, as though of
themselves.
But when Gebhart saw what he saw within the gates his heart crumbled
away for fear, and his knees knocked together; for there, in the very
middle of the way, stood a monstrous, hideous dragon, that blew out
flames and clouds of smoke from his gaping mouth like a chimney a-fire.
But the wise master was as cool as smooth water; he thrust his hand
into the bosom of his jacket and drew forth a little black box, which he
flung straight into the gaping mouth.
Snap!--the dragon swallowed the box.
The next moment it gave a great, loud, terrible cry, and, clapping and
rattling its wings, leaped into the air and flew away, bellowing like a
bull.
If Gebhart had been wonder-struck at seeing the outside of the castle,
he was ten thousand times more amazed to see the inside thereof. For,
as the master led the way and he followed, he passed through
four-and-twenty rooms, each one more wonderful than the other.
Everywhere was gold and silver and dazzling jewels that glistened so
brightly that one had to shut one’s eyes to their sparkle. Beside all
this, there were silks and satins and velvets and laces and crystal and
ebony and sandal-wood that smelled sweeter than musk and rose leaves.
All the wealth of the world brought together into one place could
not make such riches as Gebhart saw with his two eyes in these
four-and-twenty rooms. His heart beat fast within him.
At last they reached a little door of solid iron, beside which hung a
sword with a blade that shone like lightning. The master took the sword
in one hand and laid the other upon the latch of the door. Then he
turned to Gebhart and spoke for the first time since they had started
upon their long journey.
“In this room,” said he, “you will see a strange thing happen, and in a
little while I shall be as one dead. As soon as that comes to pass, go
you straightway through to the room beyond, where you will find upon a
marble table a goblet of water and a silver dagger. Touch nothing else,
and look at nothing else, for if you do all will be lost to both of us.
Bring the water straightway, and sprinkle my face with it, and when that
is done you and I will be the wisest and greatest men that ever lived,
for I will make you equal to myself in all that I know. So now swear to
do what I have just bid you, and not turn aside a hair’s breadth in the
going and the coming.
“I swear,” said Gebhart, and crossed his heart.
Then the master opened the door and entered, with Gebhart close at his
heels.
In the centre of the room was a great red cock, with eyes that shone
like sparks of fire. So soon as he saw the master he flew at him,
screaming fearfully, and spitting out darts of fire that blazed and
sparkled like lightning.
It was a dreadful battle between the master and the cock. Up and down
they fought, and here and there. Sometimes the student could see the
wise man whirling and striking with his sword; and then again he would
be hidden in a sheet of flame. But after a while he made a lucky stroke,
and off flew the cock’s head. Then, lo and behold! instead of a cock it
was a great, hairy, black demon that lay dead on the floor.
But, though the master had conquered, he looked like one sorely sick. He
was just able to stagger to a couch that stood by the wall, and there he
fell and lay, without breath or motion, like one dead, and as white as
wax.
As soon as Gebhart had gathered his wits together he remembered what the
master had said about the other room.
The door of it was also of iron. He opened it and passed within, and
there saw two great tables or blocks of polished marble. Upon one was
the dagger and a goblet of gold brimming with water. Upon the other lay
the figure of a woman, and as Gebhart looked at her he thought her more
beautiful than any thought or dream could picture. But her eyes were
closed, and she lay like a lifeless figure of wax.
After Gebhart had gazed at her a long, long time, he took up the goblet
and the dagger from the table and turned towards the door.
Then, before he left that place, he thought that he would have just one
more look at the beautiful figure. So he did, and gazed and gazed until
his heart melted away within him like a lump of butter; and, hardly
knowing what he did, he stooped and kissed the lips.
Instantly he did so a great humming sound filled the whole castle, so
sweet and musical that it made him tremble to listen. Then suddenly the
figure opened its eyes and looked straight at him.
“At last!” she said; “have you come at last?”
“Yes,” said Gebhart, “I have come.”
Then the beautiful woman arose and stepped down from the table to the
floor; and if Gebhart thought her beautiful before, he thought her a
thousand times more beautiful now that her eyes looked into his.
“Listen,” said she. “I have been asleep for hundreds upon hundreds of
years, for so it was fated to be until he should come who was to bring
me back to life again. You are he, and now you shall live with me
forever. In this castle is the wealth gathered by the king of the genii,
and it is greater than all the riches of the world. It and the castle
likewise shall be yours. I can transport everything into any part of the
world you choose, and can by my arts make you prince or king or emperor.
Come.”
“Stop,” said Gebhart. “I must first do as my master bade me.”
He led the way into the other room, the lady following him, and so they
both stood together by the couch where the wise man lay. When the lady
saw his face she cried out in a loud voice: “It is the great master!
What are you going to do?”
“I am going to sprinkle his face with this water,” said Gebhart.
“Stop!” said she. “Listen to what I have to say. In your hand you hold
the water of life and the dagger of death. The master is not dead, but
sleeping; if you sprinkle that water upon him he will awaken, young,
handsome and more powerful than the greatest magician that ever lived.
I myself, this castle, and everything that is in it will be his, and,
instead of your becoming a prince or a king or an emperor, he will be so
in your place. That, I say, will happen if he wakens. Now the dagger
of death is the only thing in the world that has power to kill him. You
have it in your hand. You have but to give him one stroke with it
while he sleeps, and he will never waken again, and then all will be
yours--your very own.”
Gebhart neither spoke nor moved, but stood looking down upon his master.
Then he set down the goblet very softly on the floor, and, shutting his
eyes that he might not see the blow, raised the dagger to strike.
“That is all your promises amount to,” said Nicholas Flamel the wise
man. “After all, Babette, you need not bring the bread and cheese, for
he shall be no pupil of mine.”
Then Gebhart opened his eyes.
There sat the wise man in the midst of his books and bottles and
diagrams and dust and chemicals and cobwebs, making strange figures upon
the table with jackstraws and a piece of chalk.
And Babette, who had just opened the cupboard door for the loaf of
bread and the cheese, shut it again with a bang, and went back to her
spinning.
So Gebhart had to go back again to his Greek and Latin and algebra and
geometry; for, after all, one cannot pour a gallon of beer into a quart
pot, or the wisdom of a Nicholas Flamel into such an one as Gebhart.
As for the name of this story, why, if some promises are not bottles
full of nothing but wind, there is little need to have a name for
anything.
“Since we are in the way of talking of fools,” said the Fisherman who
drew the Genie out of the sea--“since we are in the way of talking of
fools, I can tell you a story of the fool of all fools, and how, one
after the other, he wasted as good gifts as a man’s ears ever heard tell
of.”
“What was his name?” said the Lad who fiddled for the Jew in the
bramble-bush.
“That,” said the Fisherman, “I do not know.”
“And what is this story about?” asked St. George.
“Tis,” said the Fisherman, “about a hole in the ground.”
“And is that all?” said the Soldier who cheated the Devil.
“Nay,” said the Fisherman, blowing a whiff from his pipe; “there were
some things in the hole--a bowl of treasure, an earthen-ware jar, and a
pair of candlesticks.”
“And what do you call your story,” said St. George.
“Why,” said the Fisherman, “for lack of a better name I will call it--”
Good Gifts and a Fool’s Folly.
Give a fool heaven and earth, and all the stars, and he will make ducks
and drakes of them.
Once upon a time there was an old man, who, by thrifty living and long
saving, had laid by a fortune great enough to buy ease and comfort and
pleasure for a lifetime.
By-and-by he died, and the money came to his son, who was of a different
sort from the father; for, what that one had gained by the labor of a
whole year, the other spent in riotous living in one week.
So it came about in a little while that the young man found himself
without so much as a single penny to bless himself withal. Then his
fair-weather friends left him, and the creditors came and seized upon
his house and his household goods, and turned him out into the cold
wide world to get along as best he might with the other fools who lived
there.
Now the young spendthrift was a strong, stout fellow, and, seeing
nothing better to do, he sold his fine clothes and bought him a porter’s
basket, and went and sat in the corner of the market-place to hire
himself out to carry this or that for folk who were better off in the
world, and less foolish than he.
There he sat, all day long, from morning until evening, but nobody came
to hire him. But at last, as dusk was settling, there came along an old
man with beard as white as snow hanging down below his waist. He stopped
in front of the foolish spendthrift, and stood looking at him for a
while; then, at last, seeming to be satisfied, he beckoned with his
finger to the young man. “Come,” said he, “I have a task for you to do,
and if you are wise, and keep a still tongue in your head, I will pay
you as never a porter was paid before.”
You may depend upon it the young man needed no second bidding to such a
matter. Up he rose, and took his basket, and followed the old man, who
led the way up one street and down another, until at last they came to a
rickety, ramshackle house in a part of the town the young man had never
been before. Here the old man stopped and knocked at the door, which
was instantly opened, as though of itself, and then he entered with
the young spendthrift at his heels. The two passed through a dark
passage-way, and another door, and then, lo and behold! all was changed;
for they had come suddenly into such a place as the young man would not
have believed could be in such a house, had he not seen it with his own
eyes. Thousands of waxen tapers lit the place as bright as day--a great
oval room, floored with mosaic of a thousand bright colors and strange
figures, and hung with tapestries of silks and satins and gold and
silver. The ceiling was painted to represent the sky, through which flew
beautiful birds and winged figures so life-like that no one could tell
that they were only painted, and not real. At the farther side of the
room were two richly cushioned couches, and thither the old man led the
way with the young spendthrift following, wonder-struck, and there the
two sat themselves down. Then the old man smote his hands together, and,
in answer, ten young men and ten beautiful girls entered bearing a feast
of rare fruits and wines which they spread before them, and the young
man, who had been fasting since morning, fell to and ate as he had not
eaten for many a day.
The old man, who himself ate but little, waited patiently for the other
to end. “Now,” said he, as soon as the young man could eat no more, “you
have feasted and you have drunk; it is time for us to work.”
Thereupon he rose from the couch and led the way, the young man
following, through an arch door-way into a garden, in the centre of
which was an open space paved with white marble, and in the centre of
that again a carpet, ragged and worn, spread out upon the smooth stones.
Without saying a word, the old man seated himself upon one end of this
carpet, and motioned to the spendthrift to seat himself with his basket
at the other end; then--
“Are you ready?” said the old man.
“Yes,” said the young man, “I am.”
“Then, by the horn of Jacob,” said the old man, “I command thee, O
Carpet! to bear us over hill and valley, over lake and river, to that
spot whither I wish to go.” Hardly had the words left his mouth when
away flew the carpet, swifter than the swiftest wind, carrying the old
man and the young spendthrift, until at last it brought them to a rocky
desert without leaf or blade of grass to be seen far or near. Then it
descended to where there was a circle of sand as smooth as a floor.
The old man rolled up the carpet, and then drew from a pouch that hung
at his side a box, and from the box some sticks of sandal and spice
woods, with which he built a little fire. Next he drew from the same
pouch a brazen jar, from which he poured a gray powder upon the blaze.
Instantly there leaped up a great flame of white light and a cloud of
smoke, which rose high in the air, and there spread out until it hid
everything from sight. Then the old man began to mutter spells, and in
answer the earth shook and quaked, and a rumbling as of thunder filled
the air. At last he gave a loud cry, and instantly the earth split open,
and there the young spendthrift saw a trap-door of iron, in which was an
iron ring to lift it by.
“Look!” said the old man. “Yonder is the task for which I have brought
you; lift for me that trap-door of iron, for it is too heavy for me to
raise, and I will pay you well.”
And it was no small task, either, for, stout and strong as the young man
was, it was all he could do to lift up the iron plate. But at last up
it swung, and down below he saw a flight of stone steps leading into the
earth.
The old man drew from his bosom a copper lamp, which he lit at the fire
of the sandal and spice wood sticks, which had now nearly died away.
Then, leading the way, with the young man following close at his heels,
he descended the stairway that led down below. At the bottom the two
entered a great vaulted room, carved out of the solid stone, upon the
walls of which were painted strange pictures in bright colors of kings
and queens, genii and dragons. Excepting for these painted figures, the
vaulted room was perfectly bare, only that in the centre of the floor
there stood three stone tables. Upon the first table stood an iron
candlestick with three branches; upon the second stood an earthen jar,
empty of everything but dust; upon the third stood a brass bowl, a yard
wide and a yard deep, and filled to the brim with shining, gleaming,
dazzling jewels of all sorts.
“Now,” said the old man to the spendthrift, “I will do to you as I
promised: I will pay you as never man was paid before for such a task.
Yonder upon those three stone tables are three great treasures: choose
whichever one you will, and it is yours.”
“I shall not be long in choosing,” cried the young spendthrift. “I shall
choose the brass bowl of jewels.”
The old man laughed. “So be it,” said he. “Fill your basket from the
bowl with all you can carry, and that will be enough, provided you live
wisely, to make you rich for as long as you live.”
The young man needed no second bidding, but began filling his basket
with both hands, until he had in it as much as he could carry.
Then the old man, taking the iron candlestick and the earthen jar, led
the way up the stairway again. There the young man lowered the iron
trap-door to its place, and so soon as he had done so the other stamped
his heel upon the ground, and the earth closed of itself as smooth and
level as it had been before.
The two sat themselves upon the carpet, the one upon the one end, and
the other upon the other. “By the horn of Jacob,” said the old man,
“I command thee, O Carpet! to fly over hill and valley, over lake and
river, until thou hast brought us back whence we came.”
Away flew the carpet, and in a little time they were back in the garden
from which they had started upon their journey; and there they
parted company. “Go thy way, young man,” said the old graybeard, “and
henceforth try to live more wisely than thou hast done heretofore.
I know well who thou art, and how thou hast lived. Shun thy evil
companions, live soberly, and thou hast enough to make thee rich for as
long as thou livest.”
“Have no fear,” cried the young man, joyfully. “I have learned a bitter
lesson, and henceforth I will live wisely and well.”
So, filled with good resolves, the young man went the next day to his
creditors and paid his debts; he bought back the house which his father
had left him, and there began to lead a new life as he had promised.
But a gray goose does not become white, nor a foolish man a wise one.
At first he led a life sober enough; but by little and little he began
to take up with his old-time friends again, and by-and-by the money went
flying as merrily as ever, only this time he was twenty times richer
than he had been before, and he spent his money twenty times as fast.
Every day there was feasting and drinking going on in his house, and
roaring and rioting and dancing and singing. The wealth of a king could
not keep up such a life forever, so by the end of a year and a half the
last of the treasure was gone, and the young spendthrift was just as
poor as ever. Then once again his friends left him as they had done
before, and all that he could do was to rap his head and curse his
folly.
At last, one morning, he plucked up courage to go to the old man who had
helped him once before, to see whether he would not help him again. Rap!
tap! tap! he knocked at the door, and who should open it but the old man
himself. “Well,” said the graybeard, “what do you want?”
“I want some help,” said the spendthrift; and then he told him all, and
the old man listened and stroked his beard.
“By rights,” said he, when the young man had ended, “I should leave you
alone in your folly; for it is plain to see that nothing can cure you of
it. Nevertheless, as you helped me once, and as I have more than I shall
need, I will share what I have with you. Come in and shut the door.”
He led the way, the spendthrift following, to a little room all of bare
stone, and in which were only three things--the magic carpet, the iron
candlestick, and the earthen jar. This last the old man gave to the
foolish spendthrift. “My friend,” said he, “when you chose the money and
jewels that day in the cavern, you chose the less for the greater. Here
is a treasure that an emperor might well envy you. Whatever you wish for
you will find by dipping your hand into the jar. Now go your way, and
let what was happened cure you of your folly.”
“It shall,” cried the young man; “never again will I be so foolish as I
have been!” And thereupon he went his way with another pocketful of good
resolves.
The first thing he did when he reached home was to try the virtue of his
jar. “I should like,” said he, “to have a handful of just such treasure
as I brought from the cavern over yonder.” He dipped his hand into
the jar, and when he brought it out again it was brimful of shining,
gleaming, sparkling jewels. You can guess how he felt when he saw them.
Well, this time a whole year went by, during which the young man lived
as soberly as a judge. But at the end of the twelvemonth he was so sick
of wisdom that he loathed it as one loathes bitter drink. Then by little
and little he began to take up with his old ways again, and to call his
old cronies around, until at the end of another twelvemonth things were
a hundred times worse and wilder than ever; for now what he had he had
without end.
One day, when he and a great party of roisterers were shouting and
making merry, he brought out his earthen-ware pot to show them the
wonders of it; and to prove its virtue he gave to each guest whatever he
wanted. “What will you have?”--“A handful of gold.”--“Put your hand in
and get it!”--“What will you have?”--“A fistful of pearls.”--“Put
your fist in and get them!”--“What will you have?”--“A necklace of
diamonds.”--“Dip into the jar and get it.” And so he went from one
to another, and each and every one got what he asked for, and such a
shouting and hubbub those walls had never heard before.
Then the young man, holding the jar in his hands, began to dance and to
sing: “O wonderful jar! O beautiful jar! O beloved jar!” and so on, his
friends clapping their hands, and laughing and cheering him. At last,
in the height of his folly, he balanced the earthen jar on his head, and
began dancing around and around with it to show his dexterity.
Smash! crash! The precious jar lay in fifty pieces of the stone floor,
and the young man stood staring at the result of his folly with bulging
eyes, while his friends roared and laughed and shouted louder than ever
over his mishap. And again his treasure and his gay life were gone.
But what had been hard for him to do before was easier now. At the end
of a week he was back at the old man’s house, rapping on the door.
This time the old man asked him never a word, but frowned as black as
thunder.
“I know,” said he, “what has happened to you. If I were wise I should
let you alone in your folly; but once more I will have pity on you and
will help you, only this time it shall be the last.” Once more he led
the way to the stone room, where were the iron candlestick and the
magic carpet, and with him he took a good stout cudgel. He stood the
candlestick in the middle of the room, and taking three candles from his
pouch, thrust one into each branch. Then he struck a light, and lit the
first candle. Instantly there appeared a little old man, clad in a long
white robe, who began dancing and spinning around and around like a top.
He lit the second candle, and a second old man appeared, and round and
round he went, spinning like his brother. He lit the third candle, and
a third old man appeared. Around and around and around they spun and
whirled, until the head spun and whirled to look at them. Then the old
graybeard gripped the cudgel in his hand. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“We are ready, and waiting,” answered the three. Thereupon, without
another word, the graybeard fetched each of the dancers a blow upon the
head with might and main--One! two! three! crack! crash! jingle!
Lo and behold! Instead of the three dancing men, there lay three great
heaps of gold upon the floor, and the spendthrift stood staring like an
owl. “There,” said the old man, “take what you want, and then go your
way, and trouble me no more.”
“Well,” said the spendthrift, “of all the wonders that ever I saw,
this is the most wonderful! But how am I to carry my gold away with me,
seeing I did not fetch my basket?”
“You shall have a basket,” said the old man, “if only you will trouble
me no more. Just wait here a moment until I bring it to you.”
The spendthrift was left all alone in the room; not a soul was there
but himself. He looked up, and he looked down, and scratched his head.
“Why,” he cried aloud, “should I be content to take a part when I can
have the whole?”
To do was as easy as to say. He snatched up the iron candlestick, caught
up the staff that the old man had left leaning against the wall, and
seated himself upon the magic carpet. “By the horn of Jacob,” he cried,
“I command thee, O Carpet! to carry me over hill and valley, over lake
and river, to a place where the old man can never find me.”
Hardly had the words left his mouth than away flew the carpet through
the air, carrying him along with it; away and away, higher than the
clouds and swifter than the wind. Then at last it descended to the earth
again, and when the young spendthrift looked about him, he found himself
in just such a desert place as he and the old man had come to when
they had found the treasure. But he gave no thought to that, and hardly
looked around him to see where he was. All that he thought of was to
try his hand at the three dancers that belonged to the candlestick.
He struck a light, and lit the three candles, and instantly the three
little old men appeared for him just as they had for the old graybeard.
And around and around they spun and whirled, until the sand and dust
spun and whirled along with them. Then the young man grasped his cudgel
tightly.
Now, he had not noticed that when the old man struck the three dancers
he had held the cudgel in his left hand, for he was not wise enough
to know that great differences come from little matters. He griped the
cudgel in his right hand, and struck the dancers with might and main,
just as the old man had done. Crack! crack! crack! one; two; three.
Did they change into piles of gold? Not a bit of it! Each of the dancers
drew from under his robe a cudgel as stout and stouter than the one the
young man himself held, and, without a word, fell upon him and began to
beat and drub him until the dust flew. In vain he hopped and howled and
begged for mercy, in vain he tried to defend himself; the three never
stopped until he fell to the ground, and laid there panting and sighing
and groaning; and then they left and flew back with the iron candlestick
and the magic carpet to the old man again. At last, after a great while,
the young spendthrift sat up, rubbing the sore places; but when he
looked around not a sign was to be seen of anything but the stony
desert, without a house or a man in sight.
Perhaps, after a long time, he found his way home again, and perhaps
the drubbing he had had taught him wisdom; the first is a likely enough
thing to happen, but as for the second, it would need three strong men
to tell it to me a great many times before I would believe it.
You may smile at this story if you like, but, all the same, as certainly
as there is meat in an egg-shell, so is there truth in this nonsense.
For, “Give a fool heaven and earth,” say I, “and all the stars, and he
will make ducks and drakes of them.”
Fortunatus lifted his canican to his lips and took a long, hearty
draught of ale. “Methinks,” said he, “that all your stories have a
twang of the same sort about them. You all of you, except my friend the
Soldier here, play the same tune upon a different fiddle. Nobody comes
to any good.”
St. George drew a long whiff of his pipe, and then puffed out a cloud of
smoke as big as his head. “Perhaps,” said he to Fortunatus, “you know of
a story which turns out differently. If you do, let us have it, for it
is your turn now.”
“Very well,” said Fortunatus, “I will tell you a story that turns out as
it should, where the lad marries a beautiful princess and becomes a king
into the bargain.”
“And what is your story about?” said the Lad who fiddled for Jew in the
bramble-bush.
“It is,” said Fortunatus, “about--”