Chapter VII: Part 7

The Emperor told his daughter that she must submit to her fate, as it was clearly the will of God. Then he added: “My daughter, the speech and sensible bearing of this hog belong to no brute beast with which I am acquainted. I’ll wager my head upon it that he was never _born_ a hog. There must be a touch of sorcery here, or some other devilry. If thou art obedient, thou wilt not depart from thy given word, for God will not allow thee to be tormented for long.”

“If thou dost think it good, dear father,” replied the girl, “I will obey thee, and put my trust in God. Let Him do what He will with me. It must be so, I have no other way to turn.”

In the meantime the wedding-day arrived. The marriage was celebrated in secret. Then the hog got into one of the imperial carriages with his bride, and so they set off homewards.

On the journey they had to pass by a large marsh. The hog ordered the carriage to stop, got down, and wallowed about in the mire till he was pretty nearly one with it. Then he got into the carriage again, and told his bride to kiss him. Poor girl, what could she do? She took out her cambric pocket-handkerchief, wiped his snout a little, and then kissed him. “I am but obeying my father’s commands,” thought she.

At last they reached the hog’s house, which was in the midst of a dense forest. It was now evening, and when they had rested a little from the fatigues of the road they supped together and lay down to rest. In the night the daughter of the Emperor perceived that her husband was a man and not a hog, and she marvelled greatly. Then she called to mind the words of her father, and hope once more arose in her breast.

Every evening the hog shook off his hog-skin, and every morning before she awoke he put it on again.

One night passed, two nights passed, a great many nights passed, and the damsel could not make out how it was that her husband was a man at night and a hog in the daytime. For he was under a spell; an enchanter had done him this mischief.

Gradually she began to love him, especially when she felt that she was about to become a mother, but what grieved her most was that she was all alone, with none at hand to aid her in her hour of need.

One day, however, she saw an old long-nosed witch pass by that way. Now as she had seen no human creature for a long time, she was full of joy, and called to her, and they had a long talk together.

“Tell me now, old woman,” cried she, “the meaning of this marvel. In the daytime my husband is a hog, but when he sleeps beside me at night he is a man. Explain this marvel to me!”

“I’ll tell thee that later on, but in the meanwhile shall I give thee some medicines that will put an end to the spell that holds him?”

“Oh, do, little mother, and I’ll pay thee for them whatever thou wilt, for I hate to see him as he is now.”

“Very well, then. Take this bit of rope, my little chicken, but let him not know anything about it, or it will lose its effect. Now when he is asleep, rise up, and going to him very very softly, tie his left leg as hard as thou canst, and thou wilt see, dear heart, that on the morrow he’ll remain a man. Money I do not want. I shall be more than repaid if I release him from this scourge. My very heart-strings are bursting with compassion for thy lord, my rose-bud, and I grieve, oh how bitterly I grieve, that I did not come this way before, so as to help thee sooner.”

When the old hag had departed, the daughter of the Emperor took care to carefully conceal the piece of rope, but in the middle of the night she softly arose so that he shouldn’t hear her, and holding her very breath, tied the string round her husband’s left leg, but when she tied the knot--r-rch!--the string broke, for it was rotten, and instantly her husband started up.

“Unhappy woman!” cried he, “what hast thou done? But three days more and I should have been free of this vile spell, but now who knows how long I may have to carry this vile bestial skin! And know, moreover, that thy hand can never touch me again till thou hast worn out three pairs of iron sandals, and worn down three staves of steel, seeking me all over the wide world, for now I must depart.”

And with these words he disappeared.

The poor daughter of the Emperor, when she found herself all alone, began to cry and sob as if her heart would break. She cursed the vile witch with fire and sword, but all in vain, and when at last she saw that all her cursing and moaning did no good, she got up and went whithersoever the mercy of God and the desire of her husband might lead her.

At the first city she arrived at she bade them make her three pairs of iron sandals and three staves of steel, made provision for her journey, and set off to seek her husband.

She went on and on, past nine kingdoms and nine seas, she passed through vast forests where the treestumps were like barrels, she got black and blue from stumbling over the trunks of fallen trees, yet often as she fell, she always got up again and resumed her way; the branches of the trees struck her in the face, the briars tore her hands, yet on and on she went without so much as looking back once. At last, weary with her journey and her burden, bowed down with grief and yet with hope in her heart, she came to a little house. And who should be living there but the Holy Moon.

The damsel knocked at the door and begged them to let her come in and rest a little, especially as she was about to become a mother.

The mother of the Holy Moon had compassion on her and her afflictions, so she let her come inside and took good care of her. Then she asked her: “How is it that thou, a creature of another race, hast managed to come so far as this?”

Then the poor daughter of the Emperor told her everything that had happened to her, and wound up by saying: “I praise and thank God first of all for directing my footsteps even to this place, and I thank Him in the second place because He allows not my child to perish at the hour of its birth. And now I beg thee to tell me whether thy daughter, the Holy Moon, hath seen my husband anywhere?”

“That I cannot tell thee, my dear,” replied the mother of the Holy Moon; “but if thou dost go on thy way towards the east till thou comest to the house of the Holy Sun, maybe he will be able to tell thee somewhat.”

Then she gave her a roast fowl to eat, and told her to be very careful not to lose one of the bones, as they would be very useful to her.

The daughter of the Emperor thanked the mother of the Moon for her hospitality and kind words, and after throwing away the pair of iron sandals which she had worn out, she put on another pair, placed the fowl’s bones in her bosom, took her child on her arm, and a second staff of steel in her hand, and took to the road again.

She went on and on through nothing but plains of sand, and the way was so bad that she glided one step backwards for every two steps she went forwards. On and on she struggled till at last she left these plains behind her; and now she got amongst high mountains, steep and rugged, and crawled from rock to rock and from crag to crag. Whenever she came to a little plot of level ground she stopped and rested a little, and reflected that now she was a little nearer her husband than she was before, and then she went on her way again. The sides of the mountains were of hard-pointed flints, which bruised and cut her feet, knees, and sides till they were covered with blood; for you must know that these mountains were so high that they reached beyond the clouds. There were precipices in the way too that she could only pass by going down on her hands and knees and guiding herself with her staff.

At last, quite overcome by fatigue, she came to a palace.

Here lived the Sun.

She knocked at the door and begged them to take her in.

The mother of the Sun received her, and was amazed to see a creature of another race in those regions, and full of compassion when she heard what had befallen her. Then, when she had promised to ask her son about the damsel’s husband, she hid her in the cellar, that the Sun might not perceive her when he came home in the evening, for he always came back in a bad temper.

Next day the daughter of the Emperor was afraid she would be found out, as the Sun said he smelt a creature from another world. But his mother soothed him with soft words, and told him that it was pears that he smelt. The daughter of the Emperor took courage when she saw how well she was treated, and said:

“Tell me now, how can the Sun be ever vexed, seeing that he is so beauteous, and doeth so much good to mortals?”

“I’ll tell thee,” replied the mother of the Sun. “In the morning he stands in the gate of Heaven, and then he is merry, so merry, and smiles upon the whole world. But at mid-day he is full of disgust, inasmuch as he sees all the follies of men, and so his wrath burns and he gets hotter and hotter; while in the evening he is vexed and sorrowful because he stands in the gate of Hades, for that is the usual way by which he comes home.”

She told her besides that she had asked about her husband, and her son had replied that he knew not anything about him, as he was living in the midst of a vast and dense forest, so that his beams could not pierce through the thick foliage; the only thing to do was to go and ask the Wind about it. Then she also gave her a roast fowl, and told her to take great care of the bones.

So the daughter of the Emperor pitched away the second pair of iron sandals that she had worn out, tied up the bones, took her child on her arm and a third staff in her hand, and went after the Wind.

On this journey she met with hardships greater than any before, for she came upon mountains of flintstones, one after another, through which darted flames of fire, forests untrodden by man, and fields of ice dark with snow-storms. More than once the poor creature was on the point of falling, but with perseverance and the help of God she overcame even these great hardships, and at last she reached a ravine between two mountains, large enough to hold seven cities.

This was the abode of the Wind.

There was a gate in the wall which surrounded it. She knocked and implored them to let her in. The mother of the Wind had compassion on her, and let her in and invited her to rest. “If she had hidden from the Sun,” she said, “surely the Wind would not find her out.”

The next day the mother of the Wind told her that her husband was living in a huge dense wood, which the axe of man had never yet reached, and there he had made him a sort of house by piling up the trunks of trees one on the top of another, and plaiting them together with withy bands, where he lived all alone for fear of wicked men. Then, after she had given her a roast fowl and told her to take good care of the bones, the mother of the Wind counselled her to follow the road that led straight to the sky, and let the stars of heaven be her guides. She said she would, and after thanking her with tears of joy for her hospitality and for her glad tidings, she went on her way.

The poor woman turned night into day. She stopped neither to eat nor to rest, so fiercely did the desire to find her husband burn within her. She went on and on till she quite wore out the third pair of sandals. She threw them away, and began to walk with bare feet. She cared not for the hard clumps of earth, she took no heed of the thorns that entered into her feet, nor of the pain she suffered when she stumbled over the hard stones. At last she came to a green and beauteous meadow on the margin of a forest, and her heart rejoiced within her when she felt the soft grass and saw the sweet flowers. She stopped and rested a little. But when she saw the birds in couples and couples on the branches of the trees, a burning desire for her own husband came upon her, and she began to weep bitterly, and with her child on her arm, and her bundle of bones in her girdle, she went on her way. She entered the forest. She did not once look at the soft green turf which soothed her feet, she listened not to the birds that chirped enough to deafen her, she regarded not the flowers that peeped out from among the bushes, but groped her way step by step into the depths of the forest. For from the tokens given her by the mother of the Wind she perceived that this must be the forest in which her husband was staying.

Three days and three nights she roamed through the forest, and could see no one. So worn was she now with fatigue that she fell to the ground, and there she lay for a day and a night without moving, nor did she eat and drink.

At last she rallied all her remaining strength, rose up, and tottering along, tried to support herself on her staff; but it could help her no more, for that also was quite worn down so that it was now no good to her. Still trusting in God, she went on as best she could. She hadn’t taken ten steps forward when she saw in a cleft of the rock just such a sort of house as the mother of the Wind had told her of. She went towards it, and just managed to get up to it and no more. It was a house that had neither window nor door, but there was an opening in the roof. She looked around her, but there was no sign of a ladder.

What was she to do to get inside it?

She thought and thought again. She tried to climb up it, but in vain. Suddenly she thought of the bones which she had been carrying all this way. “If only I could find out,” said she, “how these bones are to assist me!” She took them out of the bundle, looked at them, reflected a little, and then put one atop the other, and--oh, wonderful!--they joined on to each other as if they had been glued. Then she joined another on to the first two and then another till she made out of them two long bars. Then she put a little bone across the two bars, and it stuck fast like the rung of a ladder. She mounted on it, and placed another little bone across a bit higher, and then she mounted on that also, and so she ascended from rung to rung, placing the small bones across as she went along, till she got quite near the top; but then she saw that there was a wide gap between the last rung of her ladder and the door in the roof of the house, and she now had no more bones to make the last rung. She must have lost it on the way. What was she to do now? She bethought her for a while, and then she cut off a finger and placed that between the bars. Sure enough it joined on to and formed the last rung, and mounting on it she entered the door of the house with her child in her arms. There she rested for awhile, gave her child to suck, and sat down herself on the threshold.

When her husband came he was so amazed at what he saw that he could scarce believe his eyes, and there he stood looking at the ladder of bones, the last rung of which was a severed human finger. Fear came upon him lest there should be some evil enchantment about the thing, and he would have turned his back upon the house if God had not put it into his mind to enter. So turning himself into a dove, and flying up into the air without once touching the ladder, lest evil spells should lay hold of him, he entered the house in full flight, and there he beheld his wife nursing a child; and instantly he was full of tenderness and compassion towards her, for he bethought him of how much she must have suffered and endured before she could have found her way to him. Nay, he could scarce recognize her, so changed was she by her hardships and sufferings.

But the daughter of the Emperor, when she saw him, sprang from her seat, and her heart failed her for fright, for she did not know him. Then he made himself known to her, and she regretted no longer all she had gone through to find him, nay, she forgot it altogether, for he was as tall and straight as a lordly pine.

Then they began talking together. She told him all that had befallen her, and he wept for pity. Then he also spoke, and told her his story.

“I am the son of an Emperor,” said he. “In the war which my father waged with the dragons, our neighbours (and evil neighbours they were, ever ravaging his domains), I slew the smallest of the dragons. Now his mother knew that thou wert my destined bride, so she laid the curse of her spells upon me, and constrained me to wear the skin of an unclean beast, with the design of preventing me from having thee. Yet God aided me, and I won thee nevertheless. That old woman who gave thee the cord to tie my legs with was the dragon’s mother, and when I had but three days more to bear the spell, I was forced, by thy folly, to go about in pigskin three years longer. But now since thou hast suffered for me and I have suffered for thee, let us praise God and return to our parents. Without thee I should have resigned myself to living the life of a hermit, and so I chose this desert for my habitation, and built me this house so that no child of man should get at me.”

Then they embraced each other full of joy, and promised to forget all their past sorrows.

The next day they rose early and went back first of all to the Emperor his father. When it was known that he and his consort had arrived, all the world wept with joy; but his father and mother embraced them tightly, and the public rejoicings lasted three days and three nights.

Then he went on to the Emperor the father of his wife, and he was like to have gone out of his mind for joy when he saw them. When he had heard all their adventures he said to his daughter: “Did I not tell thee not to believe that he who sought thy hand was ever born a hog? Thou hast done well, my daughter, to listen to my words.”

And being an old man, and having no heirs, he descended from his throne and put them upon it in his stead. Then they reigned in peace, and if they are not dead they are living still.

And now I’ll mount my horse again and say an “Our Father” before I go.

BOY-BEAUTIFUL, THE GOLDEN APPLES, AND THE WERE-WOLF

Once upon a time, a long while ago, when the very flies wrote upon the walls more beautifully than the mind can picture, there lived an Emperor and an Empress who had three sons, and a very beautiful garden alongside their palace. At the bottom of this garden there grew an apple-tree, entirely of gold from the top to the bottom. The Emperor was wild with joy at the thought that he had in his garden an apple-tree, the like of which was not to be found in the wide world. He used to stand in front of it, and poke his nose into every part of it, and look at it again and again, till his eyes nearly started out of his head. One day he saw this tree bud, blossom, and form its fruit, which began to ripen before him. The Emperor twisted his moustache, and his mouth watered at the thought that the next day he would have a golden apple or two on his table, an unheard-of thing up to that moment since the world began.

Day had scarcely begun to dawn next morning, when the Emperor was already in the garden to feast his eyes to the full on the golden apples; but he almost went out of his mind when, instead of the ripened golden apples, he saw that the tree was budding anew, but of apples there was no sign. While he stood there he saw the tree blossom, the blossoms fall off, and the young fruit again appear.

At this sight his heart came back to him again, and he joyfully awaited the morrow, but on the morrow also the apples had gone--goodness knows where! The Emperor was very wroth. He commanded that the tree should be strictly guarded, and the thief seized; but, alas! where were they to find him?

The tree blossomed every day, put forth flowers, formed its fruit, and towards evening the fruit began to ripen. But in the middle of the night somebody always came and took away the fruit, without the Emperor’s watchers being aware of it. It was just as if it were done on purpose. Every night, sure enough, somebody came and took the apples, as if to mock at the Emperor and all his guards! So though this Emperor had the golden apple-tree in his garden, he not only never could have a golden apple on his table, but never even saw it ripen. At last the poor Emperor took it so to heart that he said he would give up his throne to whosoever would catch and bind the thief.

Then the sons of the Emperor came to him, and asked him to let them watch also. Great was the joy of the Emperor when he heard from the mouth of his eldest son the vow he made to lay hands upon the thief. So the Emperor gave him leave, and he set to work. The eldest son watched the first night, but he suffered the same disgrace that the other watchers had suffered before him.

On the second night the second son watched, but he was no cleverer than his brother, and returned to his father with his nose to the earth.

Both the brothers said that up to midnight they had watched well enough, but after that they could not keep their feet for weariness, but fell down in a deep sleep, and recollected nothing else.

The youngest son listened to all this in silence, but when his big brothers had told their story, he begged his father to let _him_ watch too. Now, sad as his father was at being unable to find a valiant warrior to catch the thief, yet he burst out laughing when he heard the request of his youngest son. Nevertheless, he yielded at last, though only after much pressing, and now the youngest son set about guarding the tree.

When the evening had come, he took his bow, and his quiver full of arrows, and his sword, and went down into the garden. Here he chose out a lonely place, quite away from wall and tree, or any other place that he might have been able to lean against, and stood on the trunk of a felled tree, so that if he chanced to doze off, it might slip from under him and awake him. This he did, and when he had fallen two or three times, sleep forsook him, and weariness ceased to torment him.

Just as it was drawing nigh to dawn, at the hour when sleep is sweetest, he heard a fluttering in the air, as if a swarm of birds was approaching. He pricked up his ears, and heard something or other pecking away at the golden apples. He pulled an arrow from his quiver, placed it on his bow, and drew it with all his might--but nothing stirred. He drew his bow again--still there was nothing. When he had drawn it once more, he heard again the fluttering of wings, and was conscious that a flock of birds was flying away. He drew near to the golden apples, and perceived that the thief had not had time to take all of them. He had taken one here, and one there, but most of them still remained. As now he stood there he fancied he saw something shining on the ground. He stooped down and picked up the shining thing, and, lo and behold! it was two feathers entirely of gold.[19]

When it was day he plucked the apples, placed them on a golden salver, and with the golden feathers in his hat, went to find his father. The Emperor, when he saw the apples, very nearly went out of his mind for joy; but he controlled himself, and proclaimed throughout the city that his youngest son had succeeded in saving the apples, and that the thief was discovered to be a flock of birds.

Boy-Beautiful now asked his father to let him go and search out the thief; but his father would hear of nothing but the long-desired apples, which he was never tired of feasting his eyes upon.

But the youngest son of the Emperor was not to be put off, and importuned his father till at last the Emperor, in order to get rid of him, gave him leave to go and seek the thief. So he got ready, and when he was about to depart, he took the golden feathers out of his cap, and gave them to his mother, the Empress, to keep for him till he returned. He took raiment and money for his journey, fastened his quiverful of arrows to his back, and his sword on his right hip, and with his bow in one hand and the reins in the other, and accompanied by a faithful servant, set off on his way. He went on and on, along roads more and more remote, till at last he came to a desert. Here he dismounted, and taking counsel with his faithful servant, hit upon a road that led to the east. They went on a good bit further, till they came to a vast and dense wood. Through this tangle of a wood they had to grope their way (and it was as much as they could do to do that), and presently they saw, a long way off, a great and terrible wolf, with a head of steel. They immediately prepared to defend themselves, and when they were within bow-shot of the wolf, Boy-Beautiful put his bow to his eye.

The wolf seeing this, cried: “Stay thy hand, Boy-Beautiful, and slay me not, and it will be well for thee one day!” Boy-Beautiful listened to him, and let his bow fall, and the wolf drawing nigh, asked them where they were going, and what they were doing in that wood, untrodden by the foot of man. Then Boy-Beautiful told him the whole story of the golden apples in his father’s garden, and said they were seeking after the thief.

The wolf told him that the thief was the Emperor of the Birds, who, whenever he set out to steal apples, took with him in his train all the birds of swiftest flight, that so they might strip the orchards more rapidly, and that these birds were to be found in the city on the confines of this wood. He also told them that the whole household of the Emperor of the Birds lived by the robbing of gardens and orchards; and he showed them the nearest and easiest way to the city. Then giving them a little apple most lovely to look upon, he said to them: “Accept this apple, Boy-Beautiful! Whenever thou shouldst have need of me, look at it and think of me, and immediately I’ll be with thee!”

Boy-Beautiful took the apple, and concealed it in his bosom, and bidding the wolf good-day, struggled onwards with his faithful servant through the thickets of the forest, till he came to the city where the robber-bird dwelt. All through the city he went, asking where it was, and they told him that the Emperor of that realm had it in a gold cage in his garden.

That was all he wanted to know. He took a turn round the court of the Emperor, and noted in his mind all the ramparts which surrounded the court. When it was evening, he came thither with his faithful servant, and hid himself in a corner, waiting till all the dwellers in the palace had gone to rest. Then the faithful servant gave him a leg-up, and Boy-Beautiful, mounting on his back, scaled the wall, and leaped down into the garden. But the moment he put his hand on the cage, the Emperor of the Birds chirped, and before you could say boo! he was surrounded by a flock of birds, from the smallest to the greatest, all chirping in their own tongues. They made such a noise that they awoke all the servants of the Emperor. They rushed into the garden, and there they found Boy-Beautiful, with the cage in his hand, and all the birds darting at him, and he defending himself as best he could. The servants laid their hands upon him, and led him to the Emperor, who had also got up to see what was the matter.

“I am sorry to see thee thus, Boy-Beautiful,” cried the Emperor, for he knew him. “If thou hadst come to me with good words, or with entreaties, and asked me for the bird, I might, perhaps, have been persuaded to give it to thee of my own good-will and pleasure; but as thou hast been taken hand-in-sack, as they say, the reward of thy deed according to our laws is death, and thy name will be covered with dishonour.”

“Illustrious Emperor,” replied Boy-Beautiful, “these same birds have stolen the golden apples from the apple-tree of my father’s garden, and therefore have I come all this way to lay hands on the thief.”

“What thou dost say may be true, Boy-Beautiful, but I have no power to alter the laws of this land. Only a signal service rendered to our empire can save thee from a shameful death.”

“Say what that service is, and I will venture it.”

“Listen then! If thou dost succeed in bringing me the saddle-horse in the court of the Emperor my neighbour, thou wilt depart with thy face unblackened, and thou shalt take the bird in its cage along with thee.”

Boy-Beautiful agreed to these conditions, and that same day he departed with his faithful servant.

On reaching the court of the neighbouring Emperor he took note of the horse and of all the environs of the court. Then as evening drew near, he hid with his faithful servant in a corner of the court which seemed to him to be a safe ambuscade. He saw the horse walked out between two servants, and he marvelled at its beauty. It was white, its bridle was of gold set with gems inestimable, and it shone like the sun.

In the middle of the night, when sleep is most sweet, Boy-Beautiful bade his faithful servant stoop down, leaped on to his back, and from thence on to the wall, and leaped down into the Emperor’s courtyard. He groped his way along on the tips of his toes till he came to the stable, and opening the door, put his hand on the bridle and drew the horse after him. When the horse got to the door of the stable and sniffed the keen air, it sneezed once with a mighty sneeze that awoke the whole court. In an instant they all rushed out, laid hands on Boy-Beautiful, and led him before the Emperor, who had also been aroused, and who when he saw Boy-Beautiful knew him at once. He reproached him for the cowardly deed he had nearly accomplished, and told him that the laws of the land decreed death to all thieves, and

that he had no power against those laws. Then Boy-Beautiful told him of the theft of the golden apples by the birds, and of what the neighbouring Emperor had told him to do. Then said the Emperor: “If, Boy-Beautiful, thou canst bring me the divine Craiessa,[20] thou mayest perhaps escape death, and thy name shall remain untarnished.” Boy-Beautiful risked the adventure, and accompanied by his faithful servant set off on his quest. While he was on the road, the thought of the little apple occurred to him. He took it from his bosom, looked at it, and thought of the wolf, and before he could wipe his eyes the wolf was there.

“What dost thou desire, Boy-Beautiful?” said he.

“What do I desire, indeed!--look here, look here, look here, what has happened to me! Whatever am I to do to get out of this mess with a good conscience?”

“Rely upon me, for I see I must finish this business for thee.” So they all three went on together to seek the divine Craiessa.

When they drew nigh to the land of the divine Craiessa they halted in the midst of a vast forest, where they could see the Craiessa’s dazzling palace, and it was agreed that Boy-Beautiful and his servant should await the return of the wolf by the trunk of a large tree. The proud palace of the divine Craiessa was so grand and beautiful, and the style and arrangement thereof so goodly, that the wolf could scarce take his eyes therefrom. But when he came up to the palace he did what he could, and crept furtively into the garden.

And what do you think he saw there? Not a single fruit-tree was any longer green. The stems, branches, and twigs stood there as if some one had stripped them naked. The fallen leaves had turned the ground into a crackling carpet. Only a single rose-bush was still covered with leaves and full of buds, some wide open and some half closed. To reach this rose-bush the wolf had to tread very gingerly on the tips of his toes, so as not to make the carpet of dry leaves crackle beneath him; and so he hid himself behind this leafy bush. As now he stood there on the watch, the door of the dazzling palace was opened, and forth came the divine Craiessa, attended by four-and-twenty of her slaves, to take a walk in the garden.

When the wolf beheld her he was very near forgetting what he came for and coming out of his lair, though he restrained himself; for she was so lovely that the like of her never had been and never will be seen on the face of the whole earth. Her hair was of nothing less than pure gold, and reached from top to toe. Her long and silken eyelashes seemed almost to put out her eyes. When she looked at you with those large sloe-black eyes of hers, you felt sick with love. She had those beautifully-arched eyebrows which look as if they had been traced with compasses, and her skin was whiter than the froth of milk fresh from the udder.

After taking two or three turns round the garden with her slaves behind her, she came to the rose-bush and plucked one or two flowers, whereupon the wolf who was concealed in the bush darted out, took her in his front paws, and sped down the road. Her servants scattered like a bevy of young partridges, and in an instant the wolf was there, and put her, all senseless as she was, in the arms of Boy-Beautiful. When he saw her he changed colour, but the wolf reminded him that he was a warrior and he came to himself again. Many Emperors had tried to steal her, but they had all been repulsed.

Boy-Beautiful had compassion upon her, and he now made up his mind that nobody else should have her.

When the divine Craiessa awoke from her swoon and found herself in the arms of Boy-Beautiful, she said: “If _thou_ art the wolf that hath stolen me away, I’ll be thine.” Boy-Beautiful replied: “Mine thou shalt be till death do us part.”

So they made a compact of it, and they told each other their stories.

When the wolf saw the tenderness that had grown up between them he said: “Leave everything to me, and your desires shall be fulfilled!” Then they set out to return from whence they had just come, and, while they were on the road, the wolf turned three somersaults and made himself exactly like the divine Craiessa, for you must know that this wolf was a magician.

Then they arranged among themselves that the faithful servant of Boy-Beautiful should stand by the trunk of a great tree in the forest till Boy-Beautiful returned with the steed. So on reaching the court of the Emperor who had the steed, Boy-Beautiful gave him the made-up divine Craiessa, and when the Emperor saw her his heart died away within him, and he felt a love for her which told in words would be foolishness.

“Thy merits, Boy-Beautiful,” said the Emperor, “have saved thee this time also from a shameful death, and now I’ll pay thee for this by giving thee the steed.” Then Boy-Beautiful put his hand on the steed and leaped into the jewelled saddle, and, reaching the tree, placed the divine Craiessa in front of him and galloped across the boundaries of that empire.

And now the Emperor called together all his counsellors and went to the cathedral to be married to the divine Craiessa. When they got to the door of the cathedral, the pretended Craiessa turned a somersault three times and became a wolf again, which, gnashing its teeth, rushed straight at the Emperor’s retinue, who were stupefied with terror when they saw it. On coming to themselves a little, they gave chase with hue-and-cry: but the wolf, take my word for it! took such long strides that not one of them could come near him, and joining Boy-Beautiful and his friends went along with them. When they drew nigh to the court of the Emperor with the bird, they played him the same trick they had played on the Emperor with the horse. The wolf changed himself into the horse, and was given to the Emperor, who could not contain himself for joy at the sight of it.

After entertaining Boy-Beautiful with great honour, the Emperor said to him: “Boy-Beautiful, thou hast escaped a shameful death. I will keep my imperial word and my blessing shall always follow thee.” Then he commanded them to give him the bird in the golden cage, and Boy-Beautiful took it, wished him good-day, and departed. Arriving in the wood where he had left the divine Craiessa, his horse, and his faithful servant, he set off with them for the court of his father.

But the Emperor who had received the horse commanded that his whole host and all the grandees of his empire should assemble in the plain to see him mount his richly-caparisoned goodly steed. And when the soldiers saw him they all cried: “Long live the Emperor who hath won such a goodly steed, and long live the steed that doth the Emperor so much honour!”

And, indeed, there was the Emperor mounting on the back of the horse, but no sooner did it put its foot to the ground than it flew right away. They all set off in pursuit, but there was never the slightest chance of any of them catching it, for it left them far behind from the first. When it had got a good way ahead the pretended horse threw the Emperor to the ground, turned head over heels three times and became a wolf, and set off again in full flight, and ran and ran till it overtook Boy-Beautiful. Then said the wolf to him: “I have now fulfilled all thy demands. Look to thyself better in future, and strive not after things beyond thy power, or it will not go well with thee.” Then their roads parted, and each of them went his own way.

When he arrived at the empire of his father the old Emperor came out to meet his youngest son with small and great as he had agreed. Great was the public joy when they saw him with a consort the like of whom is no longer to be found on the face of the earth, and with a steed the excellence whereof lives only in the tales of the aged. When he got home Boy-Beautiful ordered a splendid stable to be made for his good steed, and put the bird-cage in the terrace of the garden. Then his father prepared for the wedding, and after not many days Boy-Beautiful and the divine Craiessa were married; the tables were spread for good and bad, and they made merry for three days and three nights. After that they lived in perfect happiness, for Boy-Beautiful had now nothing more to desire. And they are living to this day, if they have not died in the meantime.

And now I’ll mount my steed again and say an “Our Father” before I go.

YOUTH WITHOUT AGE, AND LIFE WITHOUT DEATH

Once upon a time there was a great Emperor and an Empress; both were young and beautiful, and as they would fain have been blessed with offspring they went to all the wise men and all the wise women and bade them read the stars to see if they would have children or not; but all in vain. At last the Emperor heard that in a certain village, hard by, dwelt a wiser old man than all the rest; so he sent and commanded him to appear at court. But the wise old man sent the messengers back with the answer that those who needed him must come to him. So the Emperor and the Empress set out, with their lords and their ladies, and their servants and their soldiers, and came to the house of the wise old man. And when the old man saw them coming from afar he went out to meet them.

“Welcome,” cried he; “but I tell thee, oh Emperor! that the wish of thy heart will only work thee woe.”

“I came not hither to take counsel of thee,” replied the Emperor; “but to know if thou hast herbs by eating whereof we may get us children.”

“Such herbs have I,” replied the old man; “but ye will have but one child, and him ye will not be able to keep, though he be never so nice and charming.”

So when the Emperor and the Empress had gotten the wondrous herbs, they returned joyfully back to their palace, and a few days afterwards the Empress felt that she was a mother. But ere the hour of her child’s birth came the child began to scream so loudly that all the enchantments of the magicians could not make him silent. Then the Emperor began to promise him everything in the wide world, but even this would not quiet him.

“Be silent, my heart’s darling,” said he, “and I will give thee all the kingdoms east of the sun and west of the moon! Be silent, my son, and I will give thee a consort more lovely than the Fairy Queen herself.” Then at last, when he perceived that the child still kept on screaming, he said: “Silence, my son, and I will give thee Youth without Age, and Life without Death.”

Then the child ceased to cry and came into the world, and all the courtiers beat the drums and blew the trumpets, and there was great joy in the whole realm for many days.

The older the child grew the more pensive and melancholy he became. He went to school and to the wise men, and there was no learning and wisdom that he did not make his own, so that the Emperor, his father, died and came to life again for sheer joy. And the whole realm was proud that it was going to have so wise and goodly an Emperor, and all men looked up to him as to a second Solomon. But one day, when the child had already completed his fifteenth year, and the Emperor and all his lords and great men were at table diverting themselves, the fair young prince arose and said: “Father, the time has now come when thou must give me what thou didst promise me at my birth!”

At these words the Emperor was sorely troubled. “Nay but, my son,” said he, “how can I give thee a thing which the world has never heard of? If I did promise it to thee, it was but to make thee quiet.”

“Then, oh my father, if thou canst not give it me, I must needs go forth into the world, and seek until I find that fair thing for which I was born.”

Then the Emperor and his nobles all fell down on their knees, and besought him not to leave the empire. “For,” said the nobles, “thy father is now growing old, and we would place thee on the throne, and give thee to wife the most beautiful Empress under the sun.” But they were unable to turn him from his purpose, for he was as steadfast as a rock, so at last his father gave him leave to go forth into the wide world to find what he sought.

Then Boy Beautiful went into his father’s stables, where were the most beautiful chargers in the whole empire, that he might choose one from among them; but no sooner had he laid his hand on one of them than it fell to the ground trembling, and so it was with all the other stately chargers. At last, just as he was about to leave the stable in despair, he cast his eye over it once more, and there in one corner he beheld a poor knacker, all weak, spavined, and covered with boils and sores. Up to it he went, and laid his hand upon its tail, and then the horse turned its head and said to him: “What are thy commands, my master? God be praised who hath had mercy upon me and sent a warrior to lay his hand over me!”

Then the horse shook itself and became straight in the legs again, and Boy Beautiful asked him what he should do next.

“In order that thou mayest attain thy heart’s desire,” said the horse, “ask thy father for the sword and lance, the bow, quiver, and armour which he himself wore when he was a youth; but thou must comb and curry me with thine own hand six weeks, and give me barley to eat cooked in milk.”

So the Emperor called the steward of his household, and ordered him to open all the coffers and wardrobes that his son might choose what he would, and Boy Beautiful, after searching for three days and three nights, found at last at the bottom of an old armoury, the arms and armour which his father had worn as a youth, but very rusty were these ancient weapons. But he set to work with his own hands to polish them up and rub off the rust, and at the end of six weeks they shone like mirrors. He also cherished the steed as he had been told. Grievous was the labour, but it came to an end at last.

When the good steed heard that Boy Beautiful had cleansed and polished his armour, he shook himself once more, and all his boils and sores fell from off him. There he now stood a stout horse, and strong, and with four large wings growing out of his body. Then said Boy Beautiful: “We go hence in three days!”--“Long life to thee, my master!” replied the steed; “I will go wherever thou dost command.”

When the third day came the Emperor and all his court were full of grief. Boy Beautiful, attired as became a hero, with his sword in his hand, bounded on to his horse, took leave of the Emperor and the Empress, of all the great nobles and all the little nobles, of all the warriors and all the courtiers. With tears in their eyes they besought him not to depart on this quest; but he, giving spurs to his horse, departed like a whirlwind, and after him went sumpter horses with money and provisions, and some hundreds of chosen warriors whom the Emperor had ordered to accompany him on his journey.

But when he had searched a wilderness on the confines of his father’s realm, Boy Beautiful took leave of the warriors, and sent them back to his father, taking of the provisions only so much as his good steed could carry. Then he pursued his way towards sunrise, and went on and on for three days and three nights till he came to an immense plain covered with the bones of many dead men. Here they stopped to rest, and the horse said to him: “Know, my master, that we are now in the domains of the witch Gheonoea, who is so evil a being that none can set a foot on her domains and live. Once she was a woman like other women, but the curse of her parents, whom she would never obey, fell like a withering blast upon her, and she became what she now is. At this moment she is with her children in the forest, but she will come speedily to seek and destroy thee. Great and terrible is she, yet fear not, but make ready thy bow and arrows, thy sword and lance, that thou mayest make use of them when the time comes.”--Then they rested, and while one slept the other watched.

When the day dawned they prepared to traverse the forest; Boy Beautiful bridled and saddled his horse, drew the reins tighter than at other times, and set out. At that moment they heard a terrible racket. Then the horse said: “Beware, my master, Gheonoea is approaching.” The trees of the forest fell to this side and to that as the witch drew nigh like the tempest, but Boy Beautiful struck off one of her feet with an arrow from his bow, and he was about to shoot a second time when she cried: “Stay thy hand, Boy Beautiful, for I’ll do thee no harm!” And seeing he did not believe her, she gave him a promise written in her blood.

“Look well to thy horse, Boy Beautiful,” said she, “for he is a greater magician than I. But for him I should have roasted thee, but now thou must dine at my table. Know too that no mortal hath yet succeeded in reaching this spot, though some have got so far as the plain where thou didst see all the bones.”