The Violet Fairy Book (31 page)

Now the emperor had a stepmother, and she had a daughter by her
first husband, who lived with her in the palace. The girl's
mother had always believed that her daughter would be empress,
and not the 'Milkwhite Maiden,' the child of a mere shepherd. So
she hated the girl with all her heart, and only bided her time to
do her ill.

But she could do nothing as long as the emperor remained with his
wife night and day, and she began to wonder what she could do to
get him away from her.

At last, when everything else had failed, she managed to make her
brother, who was king of the neighbouring country, declare war
against the emperor, and besiege some of the frontier towns with
a large army. This time her scheme was successful. The young
emperor sprang up in wrath the moment he heard the news, and
vowed that nothing, not even his wife, should hinder his giving
them battle. And hastily assembling whatever soldiers happened
to be at hand he set off at once to meet the enemy. The other
king had not reckoned on the swiftness of his movements, and was
not ready to receive him. The emperor fell on him when he was
off his guard, and routed his army completely. Then when victory
was won, and the terms of peace hastily drawn up, he rode home as
fast as his horse would carry him, and reached the palace on the
third day.

But early that morning, when the stars were growing pale in the
sky, two little boys with golden hair and stars on their
foreheads were born to Laptitza. And the stepmother, who was
watching, took them away, and dug a hole in the corner of the
palace, under the windows of the emperor, and put them in it,
while in their stead she placed two little puppies.

The emperor came into the palace, and when they told him the news
he went straight to Laptitza's room. No words were needed; he
saw with his own eyes that Laptitza had not kept the promise she
had made at the strawberry beds, and, though it nearly broke his
heart, he must give orders for her punishment.

So he went out sadly and told his guards that the empress was to
be buried in the earth up to her neck, so that everyone might
know what would happen to those who dared to deceive the emperor.

Not many days after, the stepmother's wish was fulfilled. The
emperor took her daughter to wife, and again the rejoicings
lasted for three days and three nights.

Let us now see what happened to the two little boys.

The poor little babies had found no rest even in their graves.
In the place where they had been buried there sprang up two
beautiful young aspens, and the stepmother, who hated the sight
of the trees, which reminded her of her crime, gave orders that
they should be uprooted. But the emperor heard of it, and
forbade the trees to be touched, saying, 'Let them alone; I like
to see them there! They are the finest aspens I have ever
beheld!'

And the aspens grew as no aspens had ever grown before. In each
day they added a year's growth, and each night they added a
year's growth, and at dawn, when the stars faded out of the sky,
they grew three years' growth in the twinkling of an eye, and
their boughs swept across the palace windows. And when the wind
moved them softly, the emperor would sit and listen to them all
the day long.

The stepmother knew what it all meant, and her mind never ceased
from trying to invent some way of destroying the trees. It was
not an easy thing, but a woman's will can press milk out of a
stone, and her cunning will overcome heroes. What craft will not
do soft words may attain, and if these do not succeed there still
remains the resource of tears.

One morning the empress sat on the edge of her husband's bed, and
began to coax him with all sorts of pretty ways.

It was some time before the bait took, but at length— even
emperors are only men!

'Well, well,' he said at last, 'have your way and cut down the
trees; but out of one they shall make a bed for me, and out of
the other, one for you!'

And with this the empress was forced to be content. The aspens
were cut down next morning, and before night the new bed had been
placed in the emperor's room.

Now when the emperor lay down in it he seemed as if he had grown
a hundred times heavier than usual, yet he felt a kind of calm
that was quite new to him. But the empress felt as if she was
lying on thorns and nettles, and could not close her eyes.

When the emperor was fast asleep, the bed began to crack loudly,
and to the empress each crack had a meaning. She felt as if she
were listening to a language which no one but herself could
understand.

'Is it too heavy for you, little brother?' asked one of the beds.

'Oh, no, it is not heavy at all,' answered the bed in which the
emperor was sleeping. 'I feel nothing but joy now that my
beloved father rests over me.'

'It is very heavy for me!' said the other bed, 'for on me lies an
evil soul.'

And so they talked on till the morning, the empress listening all
the while.

By daybreak the empress had determined how to get rid of the
beds. She would have two others made exactly like them, and when
the emperor had gone hunting they should be placed in his room.
This was done and the aspen beds were burnt in a large fire, till
only a little heap of ashes was left.

Yet while they were burning the empress seemed to hear the same
words, which she alone could understand.

Then she stooped and gathered up the ashes, and scattered them to
the four winds, so that they might blow over fresh lands and
fresh seas, and nothing remain of them.

But she had not seen that where the fire burnt brightest two
sparks flew up, and, after floating in the air for a few moments,
fell down into the great river that flows through the heart of
the country. Here the sparks had turned into two little fishes
with golden scales, and one was so exactly like the other that
everyone could tell at the first glance that they must be twins.
Early one morning the emperor's fishermen went down to the river
to get some fish for their master's breakfast, and cast their
nets into the stream. As the last star twinkled out of the sky
they drew them in, and among the multitude of fishes lay two with
scales of gold, such as no man had ever looked on.

They all gathered round and wondered, and after some talk they
decided that they would take the little fishes alive as they
were, and give them as a present to the emperor.

'Do not take us there, for that is whence we came, and yonder
lies our destruction,' said one of the fishes.

'But what are we to do with you?' asked the fisherman.

'Go and collect all the dew that lies on the leaves, and let us
swim in it. Then lay us in the sun, and do not come near us till
the sun's rays shall have dried off the dew,' answered the other
fish.

The fisherman did as they told him—gathered the dew from the
leaves and let them swim in it, then put them to lie in the sun
till the dew should be all dried up.

And when he came back, what do you think he saw? Why, two boys,
two beautiful young princes, with hair as golden as the stars on
their foreheads, and each so like the other, that at the first
glance every one would have known them for twins.

The boys grew fast. In every day they grew a year's growth, and
in every night another year's growth, but at dawn, when the stars
were fading, they grew three years' growth in the twinkling of an
eye. And they grew in other things besides height, too. Thrice
in age, and thrice in wisdom, and thrice in knowledge. And when
three days and three nights had passed they were twelve years in
age, twenty-four in strength, and thirty-six in wisdom.

'Now take us to our father,' said they. So the fisherman gave
them each a lambskin cap which half covered their faces, and
completely hid their golden hair and the stars on their
foreheads, and led them to the court.

By the time they arrived there it was midday, and the fisherman
and his charges went up to an official who was standing about.
'We wish to speak with the emperor,' said one of the boys.

'You must wait until he has finished his dinner,' replied the
porter.

'No, while he is eating it,' said the second boy, stepping across
the threshold.

The attendants all ran forward to thrust such impudent youngsters
outside the palace, but the boys slipped through their fingers
like quicksilver, and entered a large hall, where the emperor was
dining, surrounded by his whole court.

'We desire to enter,' said one of the princes sharply to a
servant who stood near the door.

'That is quite impossible,' replied the servant.

'Is it? let us see!' said the second prince, pushing the
servants to right and left.

But the servants were many, and the princes only two. There was
the noise of a struggle, which reached the emperor's ears.

'What is the matter?' asked he angrily.

The princes stopped at the sound of their father's voice.

'Two boys who want to force their way in,' replied one of the
servants, approaching the emperor.

'To FORCE their way in? Who dares to use force in my palace?
What boys are they?' said the emperor all in one breath.

'We know not, O mighty emperor,' answered the servant, 'but they
must surely be akin to you, for they have the strength of lions,
and have scattered the guards at the gate. And they are as proud
as they are strong, for they will not take their caps from their
heads.'

The emperor, as he listened, grew red with anger.

'Thrust them out,' cried he. 'Set the dogs after them.'

'Leave us alone, and we will go quietly,' said the princes, and
stepped backwards, weeping silently at the harsh words. They had
almost reached the gates when a servant ran up to them.

'The emperor commands you to return,' panted he: 'the empress
wishes to see you.'

The princes thought a moment: then they went back the way they
had come, and walked straight up to the emperor, their caps still
on their heads.

He sat at the top of a long table covered with flowers and filled
with guests. And beside him sat the empress, supported by twelve
cushions. When the princes entered one of the cushions fell
down, and there remained only eleven.

'Take off your caps,' said one of the courtiers.

'A covered head is among men a sign of honour. We wish to seem
what we are.'

'Never mind,' said the emperor, whose anger had dropped before
the silvery tones of the boy's voice. 'Stay as you are, but tell
me WHO you are! Where do you come from, and what do you want?'

'We are twins, two shoots from one stem, which has been broken,
and half lies in the ground and half sits at the head of this
table. We have travelled a long way, we have spoken in the
rustle of the wind, have whispered in the wood, we have sung in
the waters, but now we wish to tell you a story which you know
without knowing it, in the speech of men.'

And a second cushion fell down.

'Let them take their silliness home,' said the empress.

'Oh, no, let them go on,' said the emperor. 'You wished to see
them, but I wish to hear them. Go on, boys, sing me the story.'

The empress was silent, but the princes began to sing the story
of their lives.

'There was once an emperor,' began they, and the third cushion
fell down.

When they reached the warlike expedition of the emperor three of
the cushions fell down at once.

And when the tale was finished there were no more cushions under
the empress, but the moment that they lifted their caps, and
showed their golden hair and the golden stars, the eyes of the
emperor and of all his guests were bent on them, and they could
hardly bear the power of so many glances.

And there happened in the end what should have happened in the
beginning. Laptitza sat next her husband at the top of the
table. The stepmother's daughter became the meanest sewing maid
in the palace, the stepmother was tied to a wild horse, and every
one knew and has never forgotten that whoever has a mind turned
to wickedness is sure to end badly.

(Rumanische Marchen.)

Once upon a time there was a woman who had three sons. Though
they were peasants they were well off, for the soil on which they
lived was fruitful, and yielded rich crops. One day they all
three told their mother they meant to get married. To which
their mother replied: 'Do as you like, but see that you choose
good housewives, who will look carefully after your affairs; and,
to make certain of this, take with you these three skeins of
flax, and give it to them to spin. Whoever spins the best will
be my favourite daughter-in-law.'

Now the two eldest sons had already chosen their wives; so they
took the flax from their mother, and carried it off with them, to
have it spun as she had said. But the youngest son was puzzled
what to do with his skein, as he knew no girl (never having
spoken to any) to whom he could give it to be spun. He wandered
hither and thither, asking the girls that he met if they would
undertake the task for him, but at the sight of the flax they
laughed in his face and mocked at him. Then in despair he left
their villages, and went out into the country, and, seating
himself on the bank of a pond began to cry bitterly.

Suddenly there was a noise close beside him, and a frog jumped
out of the water on to the bank and asked him why he was crying.
The youth told her of his trouble, and how his brothers would
bring home linen spun for them by their promised wives, but that
no one would spin his thread.

Then the frog answered: 'Do not weep on that account; give me
the thread, and I will spin it for you.' And, having said this,
she took it out of his hand, and flopped back into the water, and
the youth went back, not knowing what would happen next.