When the king came forth to meet her, accompanied by all his nobles, his peacocks, and the foreign ambassadors staying at his court, preceded by Rosetta's portrait at the end of a long pole, he was ready to die with rage and vexation on seeing such a fright; and, without more ado, he ordered her to be shut up, together with the nurse and the pilot, in the tower prison. His rage next fell upon the two princes, whom he accused of making game of him; and they were much surprised when, instead of being released on their sister's arrival, they were transferred to a horrible dungeon, where they remained up to their necks in water for three days. At the end of that time, the king of the peacocks came and insulted them through a loop-hole, and told them they were a couple of adventurers, whom he would have hung; upon which, the elder prisoner replied indignantly, that he was as good a king as himself, and that he mightsome day repent his insolent behaviour. Seeing him so firm, the king of the peacocks had almost a mind to release them at once, and send them away with their sister, but one of his courtiers persuaded him that his dignity required he should punish the strangers; so he had them tried, and they were condemned to be executed for having told a falsehood, and promising the king a beautiful bride, who had turned out a horrible fright. When they heard this sentence, they protested so vehemently that there must be some misunderstanding, which time would clear up, that they obtained a week's respite. Meanwhile, the poor princess, who was greatly surprised on waking to find herself in the middle of the sea, began to weep bitterly, and fancied she had been cast into the waves by order of the king of the peacocks. After being tossed about for a couple of days, during which she would have died of hunger had she not chanced to pass near a bed of oysters, Fretillon's incessant barking attracted the notice of a good old man, who lived in a solitary hut on the shore. Thinking some travellers had lost their way, he came out to help them, when he was much surprised on beholding the princess in her water bed, calling out to him to save her life. The old man ranback to fetch a grapple, and towed the bed ashore with some difficulty, and the princess having wrapt herself in the counterpane, followed him to his cottage, where he lit a fire, and gave her some clothes that once belonged to his late wife. Seeing that she must be a lady of high degree, by the richness of the bed-clothes, which were of satin, embroidered with gold and silver, the old man questioned her, and having learnt her story, he offered to go and inform the king of her arrival, reminding her that she would not haveproper fare in his poor house. But Rosetta would not hear of such a thing, and preferred borrowing a basket, which she fastened to Fretillon's neck, saying, “Go and fetch me pot-luck from the best kitchen in the town.” Fretillon set off; and, as there was no better than the king's, he stole all that was in the pot, and came back to his mistress. She then sent him back to the pantry to fetch bread, wine, and fruit. Now, when the king of the peacocks wanted to dine, there was nothing left, either in the pot or the pantry, so he was in a great rage, and he ordered some joints to be roasted, that he might, at least, make a good supper. But when evening came, the princess sent Fretillon to fetch some joints from the best kitchen, and the little dog again went to the palace, and, whipping the joints off the spit while the cook's back was turned, he filled his basket and returned home. The king having missed his dinner, wished to sup earlier than usual, when again nothing was to be had, and he went to bed in a perfect fury. The same thing happened the next day, both at dinner and at supper, so that for three days the king never tasted a morsel; and this might have gone on much longer had not a courtier concealed himself in the kitchen, and discovered the four-footed thief, and followed him to the cottage. The king immediately ordered the inmates of the cottage and the dog to be taken into custody, and determined they should be put to death with the two strangers, whose respite was to expire on the morrow. He then entered the hall of justice to judge the culprits. The old man knelt before him, and told him Rosetta's whole story; and when the king cast his eyes upon her, and saw how beautiful she was, he jumped for joy, and untied the cords that bound her. Meantime the two princes were sent for, together with the nurse and her daughter; and when they had all met, Rosetta fell on her brothers' necks, while the guilty nurse and her daughter, and the pilot, knelt down to implore forgiveness. The king was so delighted that he pardoned them, and rewarded the old man handsomely, and insisted on his remaining in his palace. The king of the peacocks next did all he could to make up for the ill-usage the king and the prince had suffered. The nurse returned the bushel of golden crowns and Rosetta's fine clothes; and the wedding rejoicings lasted a whole fortnight. So everybody was satisfied, not forgetting Fretillon, who was fed with all sorts of dainties for the rest of his life.
In a retired and pleasant village there once lived a little girl, who was one of the prettiest children ever seen. Her mother loved her to excess, and as to her grandmother, she was doatingly fond of her, and looked upon her as the delight of her eyes, and the comfort of her declining years. The good old dame had a little hood of scarlet velvet made for her darling, which became her so daintily, that for miles round she had been nicknamed Little Red Riding Hood.
One day, when her mother had baked a batch of cakes, she said to Little Red Riding Hood: “I hear your poor grandam has been ailing, so, prithee, go and see if she be any better, and take her this cake and a little pot of butter.” Little Red Riding Hood, who was a willing child, and always ready to be useful, put the things into a basket, and immediately set off for the village where her grandmother lived, which lay on the other side of a thick wood. As she reached the outskirts of the forest, she met a wolf,who would have liked vastly to have devoured her at once, had there not been some woodcutters near at hand, whom he feared might kill him in turn. So he sidled up to the little girl, and said, in as winning a tone as he could assume: “Good morning, Little Red Riding Hood.” “Good morning, Master Wolf,” answered she, who had no idea of being afraid of so civil spoken an animal. “And pray where may you be going so early?” quoth the wolf. “I am going to my grandmother's,” replied Little Red Riding Hood, who thought there could be no harm in telling him. “Andwhat are you carrying in your basket, my pretty little maid?” continued the wolf, sniffing its contents. “Why, a cake and a pot of butter,” answered simple Little Red Riding Hood, “because grandmother has been ill.” “And where does poor grandmamma live?” inquired the wolf, in a tone of great interest. “Down beyond the mill, on the other side of the wood,” said she. “Well,” cried the wolf, “I don't mind if I go and see her too. So I'll take this road, and do you go through the wood, and we'll see which of us shall be there first.”
Now, the wily wolf knew well enough that he would be the winner in such a race. For, letting alone his four feet against poor Little Red Riding Hood's two, he could dash through the underwood, and swim across a pond, that would bring him by a very short cut to the old grandam's cottage, while he shrewdly guessed that the little girl would stop to gather strawberries, or to make up a posy, as she loitered along the pleasanter but more roundabout path through the wood. And sure enough the wolf, who cared neither for strawberries nor for flowers, made such good speed that he had presently reached the grandmother's cottage. Thump, thump, went the wolf against the door. “Who is there?” cried the grandam from within. “Only your grandchild, Little Red Riding Hood,” cried the wolf, imitating the little girl's shrill infantine voice as best he might. “I have come to bring you a cake and a pot of butter that mother sends you.” The grandmother, being ill, was in bed, so she called out: “Lift the latch, and the bolt will fall.” The wolf did so, and in he went, and, without saying a word more, he fell upon the poor old creature, and ate her up in no time, for he had not tasted food for the last three days. He next shut the door, and, putting on the grandam's nightcap and nightgown, he got into bed, drew the curtain, and buried his head in the pillow, and kept laughing in his sleeve at the trick he meant to put upon poor Little Red Riding Hood, and wondering how long she would be before she came.
Meanwhile Little Red Riding Hood rambled through the wood with child-like glee, stopping every now and then to listen to the birds that were singing so sweetly on the green boughs, and picking strawberries, which she knew her grandam loved to eat with cream,till she had nearly filled her basket; nor had she neglected to gather all the pretty flowers, red, blue, white, or yellow, that hid their sweet little heads amidst the moss; and of these her apron was at last so full, that she sat down under a tree to sort them and wind them into a wreath.
While she was thus occupied, a wasp came buzzing along, and, delighted at finding so many flowers without the trouble of searching for them, he began to drink up their honey very voraciously. Little RedRiding Hood knew well the difference of a wasp and a bee—how lazy the one, and how industrious the other—yet, as they are all God's creatures, she wouldn't kill it, and only said: “Take as much honey as you like, poor wasp, only do not sting me.” The wasp buzzed louder, as if to thank her for her kindness, and, when he had sipped his fill, flew away. Presently, a little tom-tit, who had been hopping about on a bough opposite, darted down on the basket, and pecked at one of the strawberries. “Eat as much as you like, pretty tom-tit,” said Little Red Riding Hood: “there will still be plenty left for grandam and for me.” The tom-tit replied, “Tweat—tweat,” in his own eloquent language; and, after gobbling up at least three strawberries, flew away, and was soon out of sight. Little Red Riding Hood now bethought her it was time to go on; so, putting her wreath into her basket, she tripped along demurely enough till she came to a brook, where she saw an aged crone, almost bent double, seeking for something along the bank. “What are you looking for, goody?” said the little girl. “For water-cresses, my pretty maid,” mumbled the poor old woman; “and a sorry trade it is, that does notearn me half enough bread to eat.” Little Red Riding Hood thought it very hard the poor old creature should work and be hungry too, so she drew from her pocket a large piece of bread, which her mother had given her to eat by the way, and said: “Sit down, goody, and eat this, and I will gather your water-cresses for you.” The old woman willingly accepted the offer, and sat down on a knoll, while Little Red Riding Hood set to work in good earnest, and had presently filled her basket with water-cresses. When her task was finished, the old crone rose up briskly, and, patting the little maid's head, said, in quite a different voice “Thank you, my pretty Little Red Riding Hood and now, if you happen to meet the green huntsman as you go along, pray give him my respects, and tell him there is game in the wind.” Little Red Riding Hood promised to do so, and walked on; but presently she looked back to see how the old woman was getting along, but, look as sharp as she might, she could see no trace of her, nor of her water-cresses. She seemed to have vanished clean out of sight. “It is very odd,” thought Little Red Riding Hood to herself, “for surely I can walk faster than she.” Thenshe kept looking about her, and prying into all the bushes, to see for the green huntsman, whom she had never heard of before, and wondered why the old woman had given her such a message. At last, just as she was passing by a pool of stagnant water, so green that you would have taken it for grass, and have walked into it, as Little Red Riding Hood, who had never seen it before, though she had gone that same way often enough, had nearly done, she perceived a huntsman clad in green from top to toe, standing on the bank, apparently watching the flight of some birds that were wheeling above his head. “Good morning, Master Huntsman,” said Little Red Riding Hood; “the old water-cress woman sends her service to you, and says there is game in the wind.” The huntsman nodded assent, and bent his ear to the ground to listen, and then drew out an arrow tipped with a green feather, and strung his bow, without taking any further notice of Little Red Riding Flood, who trudged onwards, wondering what it all meant.
Presently the little girl reached her grandmother's well-known cottage, and knocked at the door.“Who is there?” cried the wolf, forgetting to disguise his voice. Little Red Riding Hood was somewhat startled at first; then thinking her grandam had a bad cold that made her very hoarse, she answered, “It is your grandchild, Little Red Riding Hood, who has brought you a cake and a little pot of butter, which mother sends you.” The wolf then softened his voice a little, as he replied: “Lift the latch, and the bolt will fall.” Little Red Riding Hood did as she was told, and then entered the cottage. Thewolf then hid his head under the bed-clothes, and said: “Put the cake and the pot of butter on the shelf, my dear, and then come and help me to rise.” Little Red Riding Hood set down her basket, and then went and drew back the curtain, when she was much surprised to see how oddly her grandmother looked in her night-clothes. “Dear me! grandmamma,” said the little girl, “what long arms you have got!” “The better to hug you, my child,” answered the wolf.
“But, grandmamma, what long ears you have got!” persisted Little Red Riding Hood.
“The better to listen to you, my child,” replied the wolf.
“But, grandmamma, what large eyes you have got!” continued the little girl.
“The better to see you, my child,” said the wolf.
“But, grandmamma, what terrible large teeth you have got!” cried Little Red Riding Hood, who now began to be frightened.
“The better to eat you up,” exclaimed the wolf, who was just about to make a spring at the poor little girl, when a wasp, who had followed her into the cottage, stung the wolf in his nostril, and made him sneeze aloud, which gave the signal to a tom-tit perched on a branch near the open casement, who called out “Tweat—tweat,” which warned the green huntsman, who accordingly let fly his arrow, that struck the wolf right through the ear and killed him on the spot.
Little Red Riding Hood was too frightened, even after the wolf had fallen back dead, that she bounced out of the cottage, and, shutting the door, dartedinto the forest like a frightened hare, and ran till she was out of breath, when she dropped down quite exhausted under a tree. Here she discovered that she had mistaken the road, when, to her great relief, she espied her old friend the water-cress woman, at some distance; and, feeling sure she could soon overtake the aged dame, she again set off, calling out to her every now and then to stop. The old crone, however, seemed too deaf to hear; and it was not till they had reached the skirts of the forest that she turned round, when, to Little Red Riding Hood's surprise, she perceived a young and beautiful being in place of the decrepit creature she thought she was following. “Little Red Riding Hood,” said the fairy, for such she was, “your goodness of heart has saved you from a great danger. Had you not helped the poor old water-cress woman, she would not have sent word to the green huntsman, who is generally invisible to mortal eyes, to save you. Had you killed the wasp, or driven away the tom-tit, the former could not have stung the wolf's nostril and made him sneeze, nor the latter have given the huntsman the signal to fly his shaft. In future, no wild beast shall ever harmyou, and the fairy folks will always be your friends.” So saying, the fairy vanished, and Little Red Riding Hood hastened home to tell her mother all that had befallen her; nor did she forget that night to thank Heaven fervently for having delivered her from the jaws of the wolf.
There once lived a king and queen, who had been married many years without having any children, which was a subject of great sorrow to them. So when at length it pleased Heaven to send them a daughter, there was no end to the rejoicings that were made all over the kingdom, nor was there ever so grand a christening seen before. All the fairies in the land were invited to stand godmothers to the little princess, in the hope that each would endow her with some gift, as was customary in those days; by which means she would be adorned with every perfection and accomplishment that could be devised.
When the christening was over, the company returned to the king's palace, where a banquet was prepared for the fairies, seven in number, who had graced the ceremony with their presence. Before each fairy was laid a splendid cover, with a case of massive gold containing a knife, a fork, and a spoon of the purest gold, ornamented with diamonds and rubies. Justas they were going to sit down, in came an aged fairy who had not been invited, because, having remained shut up in a tower for more than fifty years, she was supposed to be either dead or under the influence of some spell. The king immediately ordered a cover to be laid for her, but he could not give her a golden case like the others, as only seven had been made, for the seven fairies. The old crone consequently thought herself treated with disrespect, and muttered sundry threats betwixt her teeth, which happened to be overheard by one of the young fairies, who, fearing she might bestow some fatal gift on the baby princess, had no sooner risen from table than she went and concealed herself behind the tapestry-hangings, in order that she might speak the last, and be able to neutralize, if possible, any mischief the ill-natured hag might intend doing.
The fairies now began to bestow their gifts. The youngest endowed her with surpassing beauty; another gave her wit; a third imparted grace; a fourth promised that she should dance to perfection; a fifth, that she should sing like a nightingale; and the sixth, that she should play on all sorts of instruments in themost exquisite manner. It was now the old fairy's turn to speak; when, coming forward, with her head shaking from spite still more than from age, she declared the princess would prick her hand with a spindle, and die of the wound.
This terrible sentence fell like a damp upon all the company, and there was no one present but what shed tears. But just then the young fairy came out from behind the tapestry-hangings, and said aloud: “Be comforted, O king and queen: your daughter shall not dieof the wound. For although I have not the power to undo completely the mischief worked by an older fairy, and though I cannot prevent the princess from pricking her hand with a spindle, yet, instead of dying, she shall only fall into a sleep, that will last a hundred years, at the end of which a king's son will come and wake her.”
Notwithstanding the fairy's words, the king, in hopes of averting such a misfortune altogether, published an edict forbidding any person to make use of spindles, or even to keep them in their house, under pain of death.
Some fifteen or sixteen years afterwards, it happened that the king and queen went to visit one of their summer palaces; when the young princess, running one morning all over the rooms, in the frolicsome spirits of youth, at length climbed up one of the turrets, and reached a little garret, where she found an old woman busy spinning with a distaff. The poor soul had never even heard of the king's edict, and did not dream that she was committing high treason by using a spindle.
“What are you doing, goody?” cried the princess. “I am spinning, my pretty dear,” replied the old woman, little thinking she was speaking to a princess. “Oh! how amusing it must be,” cried the princess, “I should so like to try! Pray show me how to set about it.” But no sooner had she taken hold of the spindle, than, being somewhat hasty and careless, and likewise because the fairies had ordered it to come to pass, she pricked her hand, and fell down in a dead faint.
The good old woman becoming alarmed, calledaloud for help, and a number of attendants flocked round the princess, bathed her temples with water, unlaced her stays, and rubbed the palms of her hands, but all to no purpose. The king, who had come up stairs on hearing the noise they made, now recollected what the fairies had foretold, and seeing there was no help for it, ordered the princess to be laid on a bed, embroidered in gold and silver, in the most magnificent room in the palace. She looked as lovely as an angel, while thus lying in state, though not dead, for the roses of her complexion and the coral of her lipswere unimpaired; and though her eyes remained closed, her gentle breathing showed she was only slumbering. The king ordered her to be left quite quiet, until the time should come when she was to awake. The good fairy who had saved her life, by condemning her to sleep for a hundred years, was in the kingdom of Mataquin, some twelve thousand miles off, when the accident occurred; but, having quickly heard the news through a little dwarf, who possessed a pair of seven-league boots, she lost no time in coming to see her royal friends, and presently arrived at the palace in a fiery chariot drawn by dragons. The king went to hand her out of the carriage. She approved of all he had done; but, being extremely prudent, she foresaw that when the princess would come to wake she would be puzzled what to do on finding herself all alone in a large palace, and therefore adopted the following expedient. She touched with her wand all the ladies in waiting, maids of honour, ladies' maids, gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks, scullions, running footmen, guards, porters, pages, valets, in short, every human being in the palace, except their two majesties; she next went into the stables, and touched all the horses, with their grooms, the large dogs in the court-yard, and, lastly, the princess's little lapdog, that lay beside her on the bed. No sooner had she done so, than one and all fell into a sound sleep that was to last till their mistress should wake, in order to be ready to attend her the moment she would require their services. Even the spits before the fire, that were roasting some savoury partridges and pheasants, seemed in a manner to fall asleep, as well as the fire itself. And all this was but the work of a moment, fairies being never very long doing their spiriting.
The king and queen, after having kissed their beloved child, without waking her, left the palace, and published a decree forbidding any one to approach the spot. But this proved quite a needless precaution, for in a quarter of an hour's time there sprung up all around the park such a quantity of trees, both great and small, and so thick a tangle of briars and brambles, that neither man nor beast could have found means to pass through them; in short, nothingbut the topmost turrets of the castle could be seen, and these were only discernible at a distance. So that it seemed the fairy was determined the princess's slumber should not be disturbed by idle curiosity.
At the end of one hundred years, the son of the king who then reigned over the land, and who did not belong to the same family as the sleeping princess, happened to go a hunting one day in that neighbourhood, and, catching a glimpse of the turrets peeping above a thick wood, inquired what building it was that he saw. Every one answered according to what they had heard. Some said it was an old castle, that was haunted; others, that it was a place of meeting for all the witches in the land; while the most prevailing opinion was, that it belonged to an ogre, who was in the habit of stealing little children, and carrying them home to eat them unmolested, and nobody could follow him, since he alone had the power of penetrating through the thicket. The prince did not know what to make of all these different accounts, when an old peasant said to him: “Please your royal highness, it is now above fifty years since I heard my father tell that the most beautiful princess ever seenwas concealed in this palace, where she was condemned to sleep for a hundred years, at the end of which she was to be awakened by a king's son, whose bride she was destined to become.”
On hearing this, the young prince's fancy was so inflamed with the hope of being himself the hero destined to end the enchantment, that he immediately determined to ascertain how far the legend might prove true. No sooner did he reach the wood, than the large trees, as well as the briars and brambles, opened a passage for him of their own accord. He now advanced towards the castle, which he could perceive at the end of a long avenue, but, to his surprise, he found that none of his attendants had been able to follow him, the trees having closed upon them the moment he had passed through. Nevertheless, he proceeded on his way without the least concern, for a young prince who begins to feel himself in love must needs be brave. So he entered the outer court-yard, where he witnessed a sight that might have appalled one less resolute than himself. The image of death was everywhere present. The bodies of men andanimals lay strewn about, apparently lifeless, and the silence was truly awful. Still, he soon perceived, by the rubicund noses and jolly faces of the porters, that they were only asleep; while their goblets, still retaining a few drops of wine, proved beyond a doubt that sleep had surprised them in the midst of a drunken bout. He then passed through a large court, paved with marble, and entered the guard-room, where he found a double row of soldiers shouldering their carbines, and snoring loudly. He next crossed through several rooms, full of ladies and gentlemen in waiting,some standing and some sitting, but all fast asleep; and at length entered a gilt chamber, where, upon a magnificent bed, the curtains of which were drawn back, he saw reclining a princess, apparently about sixteen, and of the most resplendent beauty that had ever met his sight. He felt impressed with such admiration for her loveliness that he could not refrain from bending his knee before her.
Just at that moment the period of the enchantment came to a close, the princess awoke, and, looking at him with more fondness than a first interview would seem to warrant, she exclaimed: “Is it you, dear prince? How long I've been waiting for you!” The prince was so charmed by these words, and the manner in which they were uttered, that, feeling quite at a loss how to express his gratitude and delight, he could only assure the fair sleeper that he loved her far better than he did himself. But though he did not make any set speeches, his conversation was only the more acceptable to the princess, who, on her part, was much less timid and awkward than her lover, which is not to be wondered at, as we may fairly conclude that she had had ample time—namely,a century—to consider what she should say to him, for it is not to be supposed but what the good fairy gave her agreeable dreams during her long slumber. However that may be, they now talked for about four hours, without having said half of what they had to say to each other.
All the inmates of the palace having awoke at the same time as the princess, each began to discharge the duties of his or her office; and, as they were not all in love, like their mistress, they felt very hungry. The lady in waiting, out of all patience, at length told the princess that supper was ready. The prince then gave her his hand to help her to rise, for she was ready dressed in the most magnificent clothes, though he took care not to observe that they were cut on the pattern of those of his grandmother, and that she wore a ruff, which was not now in fashion, but she looked quite as beautiful as if her dress had been more modern.
They then went into the hall of looking-glasses, where they supped to the sound of music, which was well executed by an orchestra of violins and hautboysalthough the tunes they played were at least a century out of date. After supper, the chaplain united the happy pair, and the next day they left the old castle and returned to court, where the king was delighted to welcome back the prince and his lovely bride, who was thenceforward nicknamed, both by her contemporaries and by the chroniclers who handed down the legend, the Sleeping Beauty in the Wood.
There was once a princess who had such a beautiful head of hair, streaming down in curls to her feet, and brilliant as a sunbeam, that she was universally called the Fair One with Golden Locks. A neighbouring king, having heard a great deal of her beauty, fell in love with her upon hearsay, and sent an ambassador with a magnificent suite to ask her in marriage, bidding him be sure and not fail to bring the princess home with him. The ambassador did his best to fulfil the king's commands, and made as fair a speech as he could to persuade the lady; but, either she was not in a good temper that day, or his eloquence failed to move her, for she answered, that she thanked the king, but had no mind to marry. So the ambassador returned home with all the presents he had brought, as the princess would not accept anything of a suitor whom she refused, much to the grief of the king, who had made the most splendid preparations to receive her, never doubting but what she would come.
Now there happened to be at court a very handsome young man, named Avenant, who observed, that had he been sent to the Fair One with Golden Locks,he would certainly have persuaded her to come; whereupon some ill-natured persons, who were jealous of the favour he enjoyed, repeated his words to the king, as though he had meant to boast that, being handsomer than his majesty, the princess would certainly have followed him. This threw the king into such a rage, that he ordered poor Avenant to be thrown into a dungeon, where he had nothing but straw to lie upon, and where he would have died of exhaustion hadit not been for a little spring that welled forth at the foot of the tower in which he was confined. One day, when he felt as if he were near his end, he could not help exclaiming: “What have I done? and what can have hardened the king's heart against the most faithful of all his subjects?” It chanced that the king passed by just as he uttered these words, and, being melted by his former favourite's grief, he ordered the prison door to be opened, and bid him come forth. Avenant fell at his feet, entreating to know the cause of his disgrace. “Did you not make game both of myself and my ambassador?” said the king; “and did you not boast, that had I sent you to the Fair One with Golden Locks, you would have prevailed on her to return with you?” “True, Sire,” replied Avenant; “for I should have set forth all your great qualities so irresistibly, that I am certain she could not have said nay. Methinks there is no treason in that.” The king was so convinced of his innocence, that he straightway released Avenant from prison and brought him back to the palace. After having given him a good supper, the king took him into his cabinet, and confessed to him that he was still so in love with the Fair One with Golden Locks, that he had a greatmind to send him to obtain her hand, and meant to prepare a splendid equipage befitting the ambassador of a great nation. But Avenant said: “That is not necessary. Only give me a good horse and the necessary credentials, and I will set off to-morrow.”
On the following morning Avenant left the court, and set out alone on his journey, thinking as he went of all the fine things he should say to the princess, and stopping ever and anon, when any pretty conceit came into his head, to jot it down on his tablets. One day as he halted for this purpose in a lovely meadow by the side of a rivulet, he perceived a large golden carp that lay gasping upon the grass, having jumped so high to snap at the flies, that she had overreached herself, and was unable to get back into the water. Avenant took pity on her, and, gently lifting her up, restored her to her native element. The carp took a plunge to refresh herself, then reappearing on the surface she said: “Thanks, Avenant, for having saved my life. I will do you a good turn if ever I can.” So saying she dived back into the water, leaving Avenant greatly surprised at her civility.
Another time, he saw a crow closely pursued by a large eagle, when, thinking it would be a shame notto defend the weak against the strong, he let fly an arrow that brought the cruel bird of prey to the ground, while the crow perched upon a tree in great delight, crying: “It was very generous of you, Avenant, to help a poor crow like me. But I will prove grateful, and do you a good turn whenever I can.”
Avenant was pleased with the crow's good feelings and continued his journey; when, some days after, ashe crossed a thick wood, he heard an owl hooting, as if in great distress. After looking about him on all sides, Avenant found the poor owl had got entangled in a net. He soon cut the meshes, and set him free. The owl soared aloft, then, wheeling back, cried, “Avenant, I was caught, and should have been killed without your help. But I am grateful, and will do you a good turn when I can.”
Such were the principal adventures that befel Avenant on his journey. When, at last, he reached the capital, where resided the Fair One with Golden Locks, it appeared so magnificent that he thought he should be lucky indeed if he could persuade her to leave such wonders, to come and marry the king, his master. He, however, determined to do his best; so, having put on a brocaded dress, with a richly-embroidered scarf, and hung round his neck a small basket, containing a beautiful little dog he had bought on the road, he asked for admittance at the palace gate with such graceful dignity that the guards all bowed respectfully, and the attendants ran to announce the arrival of another ambassador, named Avenant, from the king, her neighbour.
The princess bid her women fetch the blue brocaded satin gown, and dress her hair with fresh wreaths of flowers; and, when her toilet was completed, she entered her audience chamber, where Avenant was waiting for her. Though dazzled at the sight of her rare beauty, he nevertheless delivered an eloquent harangue, which he wound up by entreating the princess not to give him the pain of returning without her. “Gentle Avenant,” replied she, “your speech is fair; but you must know, that, a month ago I let fall into the river a ring that I value above my kingdom, and I made a vow at the time, that I would never listen to a marriage proposal from anybody, unless his ambassador recovered my lost treasure. So you see, were you to talk till doomsday, you could not shake my determination.”
Avenant, though surprised and vexed at such an answer, made a low bow, and requested the princess's acceptance of the dog, the basket, and the scarf he wore; but she refused his proffered gifts, and bid him consider of what she had said.
Avenant went to bed supperless that night; nor could he close his eyes for a long while, but kept lamenting that the princess required impossible things to put him off the suit he had undertaken. But hislittle dog Cabriole bid him be of good cheer, as fortune would no doubt favour him; and though Avenant did not much rely on his good luck, he at length fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
The next morning Cabriole woke up his master who dressed himself and went to take a walk. His feet insensibly carried him to the river side, when he heard a voice calling out: “Avenant! Avenant!” He looked about him, but seeing no one, was proceedingon his way, when Cabriole, who was looking at the water, cried: “Why, master, as I'm alive, it is a golden carp that is hailing you.” Upon which the carp approached, saying: “You saved my life in the meadow, and I promised to be grateful. So here is the ring you are seeking for, gentle Avenant.”
He then hastened to the palace, and, requesting an audience of the princess, he presented her the ring, and asked whether she had any objection now to marry his master? On seeing her ring she was greatly amazed; but, being intent on putting him off once more, she replied: “Since you are so ready to fulfil my behests, most gracious Avenant, I pray you do me another service, without which I cannot marry. There lives not far from hence a giant named Galifron, who has threatened to ravage my kingdom unless I granted him my hand. But I could not resolve to marry a monster who is as tall as a tower, who carries cannons in his pocket to serve for pistols, and whose voice is so loud that people grow deaf if they approach too near him. He is daily killing and eating my subjects, and if you want to win my good graces on your master's behalf, you must bring me the giant's head.”
Avenant was taken somewhat aback at this proposal; yet, after a few moments reflection, he said, “Well, madam, I am ready to fight Galifron; and, though I may not conquer, I can, at least, die the death of a hero.” The princess, who had never expected Avenant would consent, now sought to dissuade him from so rash an attempt; but all she could say proved vain; and, having equipped himself for the fight, he mounted his horse and departed.
As he approached Galifron's castle, he found the road strewed with the bones and carcases of those whom he had devoured or torn to pieces; and presently the giant emerged from a wood, when, seeing Avenant with his sword drawn, he ran at him with his iron club, and would have killed him on the spot, had not a crow come and pecked at his eyes, and made the blood stream down his face; so that, while he aimed his blows at random, Avenant plunged his sword up to the hilt into his heart. Avenant then cut off his head, and the crow perched on a tree, saying: “I have not forgotten how you saved my life by killing the eagle. I promised to do you a good turn, and I have kept my word.” “In truth I am greatly beholden to you, master crow,” quoth Avenant, as he mounted his horse, and rode off with Galifron's head.
When he reached the city, the inhabitants gathered round him, and accompanied him with loud cheers to the palace. The princess, who had trembled for his safety, was delighted to see him return. “Now madam,” said Avenant, “I think you have no excuse left for not marrying my liege lord.” “Yes, indeed I have,” answered she; “and I shall still refuse him unless you procure me some water from the fountain of beauty. This water lies in a grotto, guarded by two dragons. Inside the grotto is a largehole full of toads and serpents, by which you descend to a small cellar containing the spring. Whoever washes her face with this water retains her beauty, if already beautiful, or becomes beautiful, though ever so ugly. It makes the young remain young, and the old become young again. So you see, Avenant, I cannot leave my kingdom without carrying some of this water away with me.” “Methinks, madam,” observed Avenant, “you are far too beautiful to need any such water; but, as you seek the death of your humble servant, I must go and die.”
Accordingly, Avenant set out with his faithful little dog, and at last reached a high mountain, from the top of which he perceived a rock as black as ink, whence issued clouds of smoke. Presently out came a green and yellow dragon, whose eyes and nostrils were pouring forth fire, and whose tail had at least a hundred coils. Avenant drew his sword, and taking out a phial given him by the Fair One with Golden Locks, said to Cabriole, “I shall never be able to reach the water; so, when I am killed, fill this phial with my blood, and take it to the princess, that she may see what she has cost me, and then go and inform the king, my master, of the fate that has befallen me.” While he was speaking, a voice called out: “Avenant! Avenant!” and he perceived an owl in the hollow of a tree, who said: “You freed me from the bird-catcher's net, and I promised to do you a good turn. So give me your phial, and I will go and fetch the water of beauty.” And away flew the owl, who, knowing all the turnings and windings of the grotto, soon returned bearing back his prize. After thanking the owl most heartily, Avenant lost no time in going back to the palace, where he presented the bottle to the princess, who now agreed to set out with him for his master's kingdom.