Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 06 (8 page)

'That is capital,' answered the servant, presenting the man with
ten florins. 'Come and tell your tale to the king, and you will
save me a long journey.'

So, when the story was repeated to the king, there was nothing
for him to do but to pay the thief the twelve hundred florins.

Then the two partners set out again with their ill- gotten gains,
which they proceeded to divide into two equal shares; but the
thief kept back three of the florins that belonged to the liar's
half of the booty. Shortly afterwards they each married, and
settled down in homes of their own with their wives. One day the
liar discovered that he had been done out of three florins by his
partner, so he went to his house and demanded them from him.

'Come next Saturday, and I will give them to you,' answered the
thief. But as he had no intention of giving the liar the money,
when Saturday morning came he stretched himself out stiff and
stark upon the bed, and told his wife she was to say he was dead.
So the wife rubbed her eyes with an onion, and when the liar
appeared at the door, she met him in tears, and told him that as
her husband was dead he could not be paid the three florins.

But the liar, who knew his partner's tricks, instantly suspected
the truth, and said: 'As he has not paid me, I will pay him out
with three good lashes of my riding whip.'

At these words the thief sprang to his feet, and, appearing at
the door, promised his partner that if he would return the
following Saturday he would pay him. So the liar went away
satisfied with this promise.

But when Saturday morning came the thief got up early and hid
himself under a truss of hay in the hay-loft.

When the liar appeared to demand his three florins, the wife met
him with tears in her eyes, and told him that her husband was
dead.

'Where have you buried him?' asked the liar.

'In the hay-loft,' answered the wife.

'Then I will go there, and take away some hay in payment of his
debt,' said the liar. And proceeding to the hay-loft, he began to
toss about the hay with a pitchfork, prodding it into the trusses
of hay, till, in terror of his life, the thief crept out and
promised his partner to pay him the three florins on the
following Saturday.

When the day came he got up at sunrise, and going down into the
crypt of a neighbouring chapel, stretched himself out quite still
and stiff in an old stone coffin. But the liar, who was quite as
clever as his partner, very soon bethought him of the crypt, and
set out for the chapel, confident that he would shortly discover
the hiding-place of his friend. He had just entered the crypt,
and his eyes were not yet accustomed to the darkness, when he
heard the sound of whispering at the grated windows. Listening
intently, he overheard the plotting of a band of robbers, who had
brought their treasure to the crypt, meaning to hide it there,
while they set out on fresh adventures. All the time they were
speaking they were removing the bars from the window, and in
another minute they would all have entered the crypt, and
discovered the liar. Quick as thought he wound his mantle round
him and placed himself, standing stiff and erect, in a niche in
the wall, so that in the dim light he looked just like an old
stone statue. As soon as the robbers entered the crypt, they set
about the work of dividing their treasure. Now, there were twelve
robbers, but by mistake the chief of the band divided the gold
into thirteen heaps. When he saw his mistake he said they had not
time to count it all over again, but that the thirteenth heap
should belong to whoever among them could strike off the head of
the old stone statue in the niche with one stroke. With these
words he took up an axe, and approached the niche where the liar
was standing. But, just as he had waved the axe over his head
ready to strike, a voice was heard from the stone coffin saying,
in sepulchral tones: 'Clear out of this, or the dead will arise
from their coffins, and the statues will descend from the walls,
and you will be driven out more dead than alive.' And with a
bound the thief jumped out of his coffin and the liar from his
niche, and the robbers were so terrified that they ran
helter-skelter out of the crypt, leaving all their gold behind
them, and vowing that they would never put foot inside the
haunted place again. So the partners divided the gold between
them, and carried it to their homes; and history tells us no more
about them.

Once upon a time there lived in the city of Famagosta, in the
island of Cyprus, a rich man called Theodorus. He ought to have
been the happiest person in the whole world, as he had all he
could wish for, and a wife and little son whom he loved dearly;
but unluckily, after a short time he always grew tired of
everything, and had to seek new pleasures. When people are made
like this the end is generally the same, and before Fortunatus
(for that was the boy's name) was ten years old, his father had
spent all his money and had not a farthing left.

But though Theodorus had been so foolish he was not quite without
sense, and set about getting work at once. His wife, too, instead
of reproaching him sent away the servants and sold their fine
horses, and did all the work of the house herself, even washing
the clothes of her husband and child.

Thus time passed till Fortunatus was sixteen. One day when they
were sitting at supper, the boy said to Theodorus, 'Father, why
do you look so sad. Tell me what is wrong, and perhaps I can help
you.'

'Ah, my son, I have reason enough to be sad; but for me you would
now have been enjoying every kind of pleasure, instead of being
buried in this tiny house.'

'Oh, do not let that trouble you,' replied Fortunatus, 'it is
time I made some money for myself. To be sure I have never been
taught any trade. Still there must be something I can do. I will
go and walk on the seashore and think about it.'

Very soon—sooner than he expected—a chance came, and
Fortunatus, like a wise boy, seized on it at once. The post
offered him was that of page to the Earl of Flanders, and as the
Earl's daughter was just going to be married, splendid
festivities were held in her honour, and at some of the tilting
matches Fortunatus was lucky enough to win the prize. These
prizes, together with presents from the lords and ladies of the
court, who liked him for his pleasant ways, made Fortunatus feel
quite a rich man.

But though his head was not turned by the notice taken of him, it
excited the envy of some of the other pages about the Court, and
one of them, called Robert, invented a plot to move Fortunatus
out of his way. So he told the young man that the Earl had taken
a dislike to him and meant to kill him; Fortunatus believed the
story, and packing up his fine clothes and money, slipped away
before dawn.

He went to a great many big towns and lived well, and as he was
generous and not wiser than most youths of his age, he very soon
found himself penniless. Like his father, he then began to think
of work, and tramped half over Brittany in search of it. Nobody
seemed to want him, and he wandered about from one place to
another, till he found himself in a dense wood, without any
paths, and not much light. Here he spent two whole days, with
nothing to eat and very little water to drink, going first in one
direction and then in another, but never being able to find his
way out. During the first night he slept soundly, and was too
tired to fear either man or beast, but when darkness came on for
the second time, and growls were heard in the distance, he grew
frightened and looked about for a high tree out of reach of his
enemies. Hardly had he settled himself comfortably in one of the
forked branches, when a lion walked up to a spring that burst
from a rock close to the tree, and crouching down drank greedily.
This was bad enough, but after all, lions do not climb trees, and
as long as Fortunatus stayed up on his perch, he was quite safe.
But no sooner was the lion out of sight, than his place was taken
by a bear, and bears, as Fortunatus knew very well, are
tree-climbers. His heart beat fast, and not without reason, for
as the bear turned away he looked up and saw Fortunatus!

Now in those days every young man carried a sword slung to his
belt, and it was a fashion that came in very handily for
Fortunatus. He drew his sword, and when the bear got within a
yard of him he made a fierce lunge forward. The bear, wild with
pain, tried to spring, but the bough he was standing on broke
with his weight, and he fell heavily to the ground. Then
Fortunatus descended from his tree (first taking good care to see
no other wild animals were in sight) and killed him with a single
blow. He was just thinking he would light a fire and make a
hearty dinner off bear's flesh, which is not at all bad eating,
when he beheld a beautiful lady standing by his side leaning on a
wheel, and her eyes hidden by a bandage.

'I am Dame Fortune,' she said, 'and I have a gift for you. Shall
it be wisdom, strength, long life, riches, health, or beauty?
Think well, and tell me what you will have.'

But Fortunatus, who had proved the truth of the proverb that
'It's ill thinking on an empty stomach,' answered quickly, 'Good
lady, let me have riches in such plenty that I may never again be
as hungry as I am now.'

And the lady held out a purse and told him he had only to put his
hand into it, and he and his children would always find ten
pieces of gold. But when they were dead it would be a magic purse
no longer.

At this news Fortunatus was beside himself with joy, and could
hardly find words to thank the lady. But she told him that the
best thing he could do was to find his way out of the wood, and
before bidding him farewell pointed out which path he should
take. He walked along it as fast as his weakness would let him,
until a welcome light at a little distance showed him that a
house was near. It turned out to be an inn, but before entering
Fortunatus thought he had better make sure of the truth of what
the lady had told him, and took out the purse and looked inside.
Sure enough there were the ten pieces of gold, shining brightly.
Then Fortunatus walked boldly up to the inn, and ordered them to
get ready a good supper at once, as he was very hungry, and to
bring him the best wine in the house. And he seemed to care so
little what he spent that everybody thought he was a great lord,
and vied with each other who should run quickest when he called.

After a night passed in a soft bed, Fortunatus felt so much
better that he asked the landlord if he could find him some
men-servants, and tell him where any good horses were to be got.
The next thing was to provide himself with smart clothes, and
then to take a big house where he could give great feasts to the
nobles and beautiful ladies who lived in palaces round about.

In this manner a whole year soon slipped away, and Fortunatus was
so busy amusing himself that he never once remembered his parents
whom he had left behind in Cyprus. But though he was thoughtless,
he was not bad-hearted. As soon as their existence crossed his
mind, he set about making preparations to visit them, and as he
was not fond of being alone he looked round for some one older
and wiser than himself to travel with him. It was not long before
he had the good luck to come across an old man who had left his
wife and children in a far country many years before, when he
went out into the world to seek the fortune which he never found.
He agreed to accompany Fortunatus back to Cyprus, but only on
condition he should first be allowed to return for a few weeks to
his own home before venturing to set sail for an island so
strange and distant. Fortunatus agreed to his proposal, and as he
was always fond of anything new, said that he would go with him.

The journey was long, and they had to cross many large rivers,
and climb over high mountains, and find their way through thick
woods, before they reached at length the old man's castle. His
wife and children had almost given up hopes of seeing him again,
and crowded eagerly round him. Indeed, it did not take Fortunatus
five minutes to fall in love with the youngest daughter, the most
beautiful creature in the whole world, whose name was Cassandra.

'Give her to me for my wife,' he said to the old man, 'and let us
all go together to Famagosta.'

So a ship was bought big enough to hold Fortunatus, the old man
and his wife, and their ten children— five of them sons and five
daughters. And the day before they sailed the wedding was
celebrated with magnificent rejoicings, and everybody thought
that Fortunatus must certainly be a prince in disguise. But when
they reached Cyprus, he learned to his sorrow that both his
father and mother were dead, and for some time he shut himself up
in his house and would see nobody, full of shame at having
forgotten them all these years. Then he begged that the old man
and his wife would remain with him, and take the place of his
parents.

For twelve years Fortunatus and Cassandra and their two little
boys lived happily in Famagosta. They had a beautiful house and
everything they could possibly want, and when Cassandra's sisters
married the purse provided them each with a fortune. But at last
Fortunatus grew tired of staying at home, and thought he should
like to go out and see the world again. Cassandra shed many tears
at first when he told her of his wishes, and he had a great deal
of trouble to persuade her to give her consent. But on his
promising to return at the end of two years she agreed to let him
go. Before he went away he showed her three chests of gold, which
stood in a room with an iron door, and walls twelve feet thick.
'If anything should happen to me,' he said, 'and I should never
come back, keep one of the chests for yourself, and give the
others to our two sons.' Then he embraced them all and took ship
for Alexandria.