Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 06 (3 page)

The further the pony advanced, the higher rose the sea; at last
the waves covered the children's heads and they were all drowned.

Towards morning old Peggy went out, for she was anxious about the
fate of her grandchildren. She sought them high and low, but
could not find them anywhere. She asked all the neighbours if
they had seen the children, but no one knew anything about them,
except that the eldest had not been with the blue-eyed daughter
of Jacob the rope-maker.

As she was going home, bowed with grief, she saw a little black
pony coming towards her, springing and curveting in every
direction. When it got quite near her it neighed loudly, and
galloped past her so quickly that in a moment it was out of her
sight.

(From the French, Kletke.)

There once lived a king who was much loved by his people, and he,
too, loved them warmly. He led a very happy life, but he had the
greatest dislike to the idea of marrying, nor had he ever felt
the slightest wish to fall in love. His subjects begged him to
marry, and at last he promised to try to do so. But as, so far,
he had never cared for any woman he had seen, he made up his mind
to travel in hopes of meeting some lady he could love.

So he arranged all the affairs of state in an orderly manner, and
set out, attended by only one equerry, who, though not very
clever, had most excellent good sense. These people indeed
generally make the best fellow travellers.

The king explored several countries, doing all he could to fall
in love, but in vain; and at the end of two years' journeys he
turned his face towards home, with as free a heart as when he set
out.

As he was riding along through a forest he suddenly heard the
most awful miawing and shrieking of cats you can imagine. The
noise drew nearer, and nearer, and at last they saw a hundred
huge Spanish cats rush through the trees close to them. They were
so closely packed together that you could easily have covered
them with a large cloak, and all were following the same track.
They were closely pursued by two enormous apes, dressed in purple
suits, with the prettiest and best made boots you ever saw.

The apes were mounted on superb mastiffs, and spurred them on in
hot haste, blowing shrill blasts on little toy trumpets all the
time.

The king and his equerry stood still to watch this strange hunt,
which was followed by twenty or more little dwarfs, some mounted
on wolves, and leading relays, and others with cats in leash. The
dwarfs were all dressed in purple silk liveries like the apes.

A moment later a beautiful young woman mounted on a tiger came in
sight. She passed close to the king, riding at full speed,
without taking any notice of him; but he was at once enchanted by
her, and his heart was gone in a moment.

To his great joy he saw that one of the dwarfs had fallen behind
the rest, and at once began to question him.

The dwarf told him that the lady he had just seen was the
Princess Mutinosa, the daughter of the king in whose country they
were at that moment. He added that the princess was very fond of
hunting, and that she was now in pursuit of rabbits.

The king then asked the way to the court, and having been told
it, hurried off, and reached the capital in a couple of hours.

As soon as he arrived, he presented himself to the king and
queen, and on mentioning his own name and that of his country,
was received with open arms. Not long after, the princess
returned, and hearing that the hunt had been very successful, the
king complimented her on it, but she would not answer a word.

Her silence rather surprised him, but he was still more
astonished when he found that she never spoke once all through
supper-time. Sometimes she seemed about to speak, but whenever
this was the case her father or mother at once took up the
conversation. However, this silence did not cool the king's
affection, and when he retired to his rooms at night he confided
his feelings to his faithful equerry. But the equerry was by no
means delighted at his king's love affair, and took no pains to
hide his disappointment.

'But why are you vexed?' asked the king. 'Surely the princess is
beautiful enough to please anyone?'

'She is certainly very handsome,' replied the equerry, 'but to be
really happy in love something more than beauty is required. To
tell the truth, sire,' he added, 'her expression seems to me
hard.'

'That is pride and dignity,' said the king, 'and nothing can be
more becoming.'

'Pride or hardness, as you will,' said the equerry; 'but to my
mind the choice of so many fierce creatures for her amusements
seems to tell of a fierce nature, and I also think there is
something suspicious in the care taken to prevent her speaking.'

The equerry's remarks were full of good sense; but as opposition
is only apt to increase love in the hearts of men, and especially
of kings who hate being contradicted, this king begged, the very
next day, for the hand of the Princess Mutinosa. It was granted
him on two conditions.

The first was that the wedding should take place the very next
day; and the second, that he should not speak to the princess
till she was his wife; to all of which the king agreed, in spite
of his equerry's objections, so that the first word he heard his
bride utter was the 'Yes' she spoke at their marriage.

Once married, however, she no longer placed any check on herself,
and her ladies-in-waiting came in for plenty of rude speeches—-
even the king did not escape scolding; but as he was a good-
tempered man, and very much in love, he bore it patiently. A few
days after the wedding the newly married pair set out for their
kingdom without leaving many regrets behind.

The good equerry's fears proved only too true, as the king found
out to his cost. The young queen made her self most disagreeable
to all her court, her spite and bad temper knew no bounds, and
before the end of a month she was known far and wide as a regular
vixen.

One day, when riding out, she met a poor old woman walking along
the road, who made a curtsy and was going on, when the queen had
her stopped, and cried: 'You are a very impertinent person; don't
you know that I am the queen? And how dare you not make me a
deeper curtsy?'

'Madam,' said the old woman, 'I have never learnt how to measure
curtsies; but I had no wish to fail in proper respect.'

'What!' screamed the queen; 'she dares to answer! Tie her to my
horse's tail and I'll just carry her at once to the best dancing-
master in the town to learn how to curtsy.'

The old woman shrieked for mercy, but the queen would not listen,
and only mocked when she said she was protected by the fairies.
At last the poor old thing submitted to be tied up, but when the
queen urged her horse on he never stirred. In vain she spurred
him, he seemed turned to bronze. At the same moment the cord with
which the old woman was tied changed into wreaths of flowers, and
she herself into a tall and stately lady.

Looking disdainfully at the queen, she said, 'Bad woman, unworthy
of your crown; I wished to judge for myself whether all I heard
of you was true. I have now no doubt of it, and you shall see
whether the fairies are to be laughed at.'

So saying the fairy Placida (that was her name) blew a little
gold whistle, and a chariot appeared drawn by six splendid
ostriches. In it was seated the fairy queen, escorted by a dozen
other fairies mounted on dragons.

All having dismounted, Placida told her adventures, and the fairy
queen approved all she had done, and proposed turning Mutinosa
into bronze like her horse.

Placida, however, who was very kind and gentle, begged for a
milder sentence, and at last it was settled that Mutinosa should
become her slave for life unless she should have a child to take
her place.

The king was told of his wife's fate and submitted to it, which,
as he could do nothing to help it, was the only course open to
him.

The fairies then all dispersed, Placida taking her slave with
her, and on reaching her palace she said: 'You ought by rights to
be scullion, but as you have been delicately brought up the
change might be too great for you. I shall therefore only order
you to sweep my rooms carefully, and to wash and comb my little
dog.'

Mutinosa felt there was no use in disobeying, so she did as she
was bid and said nothing.

After some time she gave birth to a most lovely little girl, and
when she was well again the fairy gave her a good lecture on her
past life, made her promise to behave better in future, and sent
her back to the king, her husband.

Placida now gave herself up entirely to the little princess who
was left in her charge. She anxiously thought over which of the
fairies she would invite to be godmothers, so as to secure the
best gift, for her adopted child.

At last she decided on two very kindly and cheerful fairies, and
asked them to the christening feast. Directly it was over the
baby was brought to them in a lovely crystal cradle hung with red
silk curtains embroidered with gold.

The little thing smiled so sweetly at the fairies that they
decided to do all they could for her. They began by naming her
Graziella, and then Placida said: 'You know, dear sisters, that
the commonest form of spite or punishment amongst us consists of
changing beauty to ugliness, cleverness to stupidity, and oftener
still to change a person's form altogether. Now, as we can only
each bestow one gift, I think the best plan will be for one of
you to give her beauty, the other good understanding, whilst I
will undertake that she shall never be changed into any other
form.'

The two godmothers quite agreed, and as soon as the little
princess had received their gifts, they went home, and Placida
gave herself up to the child's education. She succeeded so well
with it, and little Graziella grew so lovely, that when she was
still quite a child her fame was spread abroad only too much, and
one day Placida was surprised by a visit from the Fairy Queen,
who was attended by a very grave and severe- looking fairy.

The queen began at once: 'I have been much surprised by your
behaviour to Mutinosa; she had insulted our whole race, and
deserved punishment. You might forgive your own wrongs if you
chose, but not those of others. You treated her very gently
whilst she was with you, and I come now to avenge our wrongs on
her daughter. You have ensured her being lovely and clever, and
not subject to change of form, but I shall place her in an
enchanted prison, which she shall never leave till she finds
herself in the arms of a lover whom she herself loves. It will be
my care to prevent anything of the kind happening.'

The enchanted prison was a large high tower in the midst of the
sea, built of shells of all shapes and colours. The lower floor
was like a great bathroom, where the water was let in or off at
will. The first floor contained the princess's apartments,
beautifully furnished. On the second was a library, a large
wardrobe-room filled with beautiful clothes and every kind of
linen, a music-room, a pantry with bins full of the best wines,
and a store-room with all manner of preserves, bonbons, pastry
and cakes, all of which remained as fresh as if just out of the
oven.

The top of the tower was laid out like a garden, with beds of the
loveliest flowers, fine fruit trees, and shady arbours and
shrubs, where many birds sang amongst the branches.

The fairies escorted Graziella and her governess, Bonnetta, to
the tower, and then mounted a dolphin which was waiting for them.
At a little distance from the tower the queen waved her wand and
summoned two thousand great fierce sharks, whom she ordered to
keep close guard, and not to let a soul enter the tower

The good governess took such pains with Graziella's education
that when she was nearly grown up she was not only most
accomplished, but a very sweet, good girl.

One day, as the princess was standing on a balcony, she saw the
most extraordinary figure rise out of the sea. She quickly called
Bonnetta to ask her what it could be. It looked like some kind of
man, with a bluish face and long sea-green hair. He was swimming
towards the tower, but the sharks took no notice of him.

'It must be a merman,' said Bonnetta.

'A man, do you say?' cried Graziella; 'let us hurry down to the
door and see him nearer.'

When they stood in the doorway the merman stopped to look at the
princess and made many signs of admiration. His voice was very
hoarse and husky, but when he found that he was not understood he
took to signs. He carried a little basket made of osiers and
filled with rare shells, which he presented to the princess.

She took it with signs of thanks; but as it was getting dusk she
retired, and the merman plunged back into the sea.

When they were alone, Graziella said to her governess: 'What a
dreadful-looking creature that was! Why do those odious sharks
let him come near the tower? I suppose all men are not like him?'

'No, indeed,' replied Bonnetta. 'I suppose the sharks look on him
as a sort of relation, and so did not attack him.'

A few days later the two ladies heard a strange sort of music,
and looking out of the window, there was the merman, his head
crowned with water plants, and blowing a great sea-shell with all
his might.

They went down to the tower door, and Graziella politely accepted
some coral and other marine curiosities he had brought her. After
this he used to come every evening, and blow his shell, or dive
and play antics under tile princess's window. She contented
herself with bowing to him from the balcony, but she would not go
down to the door in spite of all his signs.

Some days later he came with a person of his own kind, but of
another sex. Her hair was dressed with great taste, and she had a
lovely voice. This new arrival induced the ladies to go down to
the door. They were surprised to find that, after trying various
languages, she at last spoke to them in their own, and paid
Graziella a very pretty compliment on her beauty.