Newbolt, Henry,Stories from Froissart.
Pyle, Howard,Stories of King Arthur and His Knights.Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood.
Plummer, Mary W.,Stories from the Chronicle of the Cid.
Ragozin, Z. A.,Frithjof and Roland.Siegfried and Beowulf.
Rolleston, T. W.,High Deeds of Finn.
Scudder, Horace E.,The Book of Legends.
Tappan, Eva March,Robin Hood: His Book.
Tennyson, Alfred,The Idylls of the King.
Warren, Maude Radford,King Arthur and His Knights.Robin Hood and His Merry Men.
Wilson, C. D.,Story of the Cid for Young People.
The material included.The heading adopted for this section is used somewhat loosely to include those many and varied collections of stories which have with the passage of time been gradually brought together into so-called cycles, unified around some central figure, or by means of some kind of framework. It would thus bring into its scope the series of stories which make up the GreekOdyssey, the Anglo-SaxonBeowulf, the FinnishKalevala, and other national epics. It would include the stories centering around King Arthur, Siegfried, Roland, the Cid, Alexander, Charlemagne, Robin Hood, and Reynard the Fox. Besides all these cycles and others like them, there is a great body of separate legends of persons and places, exemplified by "The Proud King," that seem almost to constitute a work by themselves. The extended body of eastern stories known asThe Arabian Nightsare also placed here, as is Cervantes'Don Quixote. The last inclusion may seem to violate even the wide range of the heading, asDon Quixoteis distinctly one of the world's great modern masterpieces, and is by a known author. But that book is after all a cycle of adventures with a central figure not unlike the romance cycles, and, since it is popularly supposed to have had its origin in the purpose of humorously satirizing the romances of chivalry, it may be allowed to stand in connection with them.
The place for such stories.The developing child soon passes out of the period where the old fairy stories and their modern analogues satisfy his needs. He comes into a period of hero-worship where he demands not only courage and prowess of magnificent proportions, but also a sinking of self in as equally magnificent and disinterested service of great causes. To the child's mind there is nothing fantastical about the chivalric ideas of courtesy, and friendship, and all high personal ideals. It is the natural food of his mind. He will allow nothing mean or unclean. It seems, roughly speaking, that the time of greatest appeal for such stories is about the fourth, fifth, and sixth grades. By the end of that period he is already well along toward an interest in the real men and women of history, toward a more realistic and practical conception of the problems of human life.
The problems of choice and adaptation.The wealth of material available is so great as to be bewildering. As yet there is no common agreement as to just which stories are best for our purpose, nor is there any as to where particular stories should be used. The adapters and story-tellers differ much in their views on these questions. Young teachers, it is clear, cannot be expected to know this vast field in any detail. The saving fact is that teachers can hardly make a mistake by using any story that has awakened their own interest and enthusiasm, and which, for that reason, they will be able to present in a simple and striking form. Having in mind, then, the beginning teacher, we make the following specific suggestions:
1.Beowulf.The inexperienced teacher will find a splendid version, "The Story of Beowulf," ready-made in Wyche'sSome Great Stories and How to TellThem. To work from the complete epic, use any of the translations by Child, Tinker, Gummere, or Hall. "Perhaps it is not too much to assert . . . thatinits lofty spirit, its vigor, and its sincerity, . . . it reflects traits which are distinctive of English-speaking people throughout the world."2.King Arthur.The final source must be Sir Thomas Malory'sLe Morte D'Arthur, represented in the following pages by Nos.401,402, and403. Some passages from Malory should be read to the class. For suggestions as to method in handling the stories, see Wyche as above, where there is a fine brief version. InKing Arthur and His Knights, by Mrs. Warren (Maude Radford), may be found a good working version of the whole cycle. ". . . In delicacy of feeling, in reverence for women, in courtesy to friend and foe, the Arthurian story foreshadowed much that is gentlest and best in modern civilization."3.Robin Hood.Go at once to one of the simple prose versions of the story. Satisfactory ones are those by Miss Tappan, by Mrs. Warren, or by Howard Pyle (the shorter version). As time and opportunity offer read the simple old ballads which are the source of the story of "merry" Sherwood. "If ever verse lashed abuse with a smile, it is this. The sun shines brightly overhead; it is a good world to be alive in, its wrongs are being righted, and its very misfortunes are ultimately to bring happier times."4. A few stories about Roland, Siegfried, the Cid, Charlemagne, and others may be used by teachers who have had opportunity to get acquainted with those great figures, or who have access to some of the authorities listed in the bibliography. This material is more difficult to handle satisfactorily than that already discussed, and may well be sparingly used, if not omitted altogether. For a general collection of legends, the ideal as to choice and method of presentation is Scudder'sThe Book of Legends(No.412). FromThe Arabian Nightsuse "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves" (No.398), "Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp," and "The Stories of Sindbad the Sailor." Almost any of the accessible versions will be satisfactory. ForReynard the Fox, the one adaptation that presents the story in a fairly good form for children is that made by Sir Henry Cole, available as edited by Joseph Jacobs (Nos.399and400). Perhaps as much ofDon Quixoteis given in this text (Nos.405-411) as teachers can use. A full translation is a satisfactory source for this story, although the shortened forms by Havell or Parry are admirable.
1.Beowulf.The inexperienced teacher will find a splendid version, "The Story of Beowulf," ready-made in Wyche'sSome Great Stories and How to TellThem. To work from the complete epic, use any of the translations by Child, Tinker, Gummere, or Hall. "Perhaps it is not too much to assert . . . thatinits lofty spirit, its vigor, and its sincerity, . . . it reflects traits which are distinctive of English-speaking people throughout the world."
2.King Arthur.The final source must be Sir Thomas Malory'sLe Morte D'Arthur, represented in the following pages by Nos.401,402, and403. Some passages from Malory should be read to the class. For suggestions as to method in handling the stories, see Wyche as above, where there is a fine brief version. InKing Arthur and His Knights, by Mrs. Warren (Maude Radford), may be found a good working version of the whole cycle. ". . . In delicacy of feeling, in reverence for women, in courtesy to friend and foe, the Arthurian story foreshadowed much that is gentlest and best in modern civilization."
3.Robin Hood.Go at once to one of the simple prose versions of the story. Satisfactory ones are those by Miss Tappan, by Mrs. Warren, or by Howard Pyle (the shorter version). As time and opportunity offer read the simple old ballads which are the source of the story of "merry" Sherwood. "If ever verse lashed abuse with a smile, it is this. The sun shines brightly overhead; it is a good world to be alive in, its wrongs are being righted, and its very misfortunes are ultimately to bring happier times."
4. A few stories about Roland, Siegfried, the Cid, Charlemagne, and others may be used by teachers who have had opportunity to get acquainted with those great figures, or who have access to some of the authorities listed in the bibliography. This material is more difficult to handle satisfactorily than that already discussed, and may well be sparingly used, if not omitted altogether. For a general collection of legends, the ideal as to choice and method of presentation is Scudder'sThe Book of Legends(No.412). FromThe Arabian Nightsuse "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves" (No.398), "Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp," and "The Stories of Sindbad the Sailor." Almost any of the accessible versions will be satisfactory. ForReynard the Fox, the one adaptation that presents the story in a fairly good form for children is that made by Sir Henry Cole, available as edited by Joseph Jacobs (Nos.399and400). Perhaps as much ofDon Quixoteis given in this text (Nos.405-411) as teachers can use. A full translation is a satisfactory source for this story, although the shortened forms by Havell or Parry are admirable.
Most of the books on story-telling have discussions of the best ways of dealing with the romance material. Especially valuable in this connection are Wyche,Great Stories and How to Tell Them, and Lyman,Story Telling. For scholarly and yet not too difficult books giving a perspective of the entire field see W. W. Lawrence,Medieval Story and the Beginnings of the Social Ideals of English-speaking People, or W. P. Ker,Epic and Romance. Consult MacClintock, "Hero-Tales and Romances,"Literature in the Elementary School, chap. viii.
Most of the books on story-telling have discussions of the best ways of dealing with the romance material. Especially valuable in this connection are Wyche,Great Stories and How to Tell Them, and Lyman,Story Telling. For scholarly and yet not too difficult books giving a perspective of the entire field see W. W. Lawrence,Medieval Story and the Beginnings of the Social Ideals of English-speaking People, or W. P. Ker,Epic and Romance. Consult MacClintock, "Hero-Tales and Romances,"Literature in the Elementary School, chap. viii.
The Arabian Nights' EntertainmentorThousand and One Nightsis a collection of about four hundred old oriental stories, chiefly from Persia, India, and Arabia. They were brought together probably in the thirteenth century and told orally as stories told to entertain King Shahriyar; but scholars think the collection was not written until some time between the years 1350 and 1550. Some of the stories probably were told as early as the ninth century. The stories are of various kinds—fables, anecdotes, legends, hero stories, wonder stories, and romances. "The Story of Alnaschar" (No.235in this book) is one of the fables. The collection became known to European readers in 1704, when it was translated from the Arabic by a French scholar named Galland. Since that time the fables have been translated extensively. The translation into English by Lane is the most valuable one for a teacher who wishes to have all of the book that is fit for public use. Like many of the world's great compilations of this sort, it is made up of a mixture of good and bad. The oriental play of imagination in these stories and the background of old Eastern scenery and customs have made them a source of entertainment and instruction for all civilized nations. The story that follows has always been one of the favorites among oriental wonder stories, and is given in a familiar traditional version.
In a town in Persia there lived two brothers, the sons of a poor man; the one was named Cassim, and the other Ali Baba. Cassim, the elder, married a wife with a considerable fortune, and lived at his ease in a handsome house, with plenty of servants; but the wife of Ali Baba was as poor as himself; they dwelt in a mean cottage in the suburbs of the city, and he maintained his family by cutting wood in a neighboring forest.
One day when Ali Baba was in the forest and preparing to load his three asses with the wood he had cut, he saw a troop of horsemen coming towards him. He had often heard of robbers who infested that forest, and, in a great fright, he hastily climbed a large thick tree, which stood near the foot of a rock, and hid himself among the branches.
The horsemen soon galloped up to the rock, where they all dismounted. Ali Baba counted forty of them, and he could not doubt but they were thieves, by their ill-looking countenances. They each took a loaded portmanteau from his horse; and he who seemed to be their captain, turning to the rock, said, "Open Sesame," and immediately a door opened in the rock, and all the robbers passed in, when the door shut itself. In a short time the door opened again, and the forty robbers came out, followed by their captain, who said, "Shut Sesame." The door instantly closed; and the troop, mounting their horses, were presently out of sight.
Ali Baba remained in the tree a long time, and seeing that the robbers did not return, he ventured down, and, approaching close to the rock, said, "Open Sesame." Immediately the door flew open, and Ali Baba beheld a spacious cavern, very light, and filled with all sorts of possessions,—merchandise, rich stuffs, and heaps of gold and silver coin, which these robbers had taken from merchants and travelers.
Ali Baba then went in search of his asses, and having brought them to the rock, took as many bags of gold coin asthey could carry, and put them on their backs, covering them with some loose fagots of wood. Afterwards (not forgetting to say "Shut Sesame") he drove the asses back to the city; and having unloaded them in the stable belonging to his cottage, carried the bags into the house and spread the gold coin out upon the floor before his wife.
His wife, delighted with so much money, wanted to count it; but finding it would take up too much time, she was resolved to measure it, and running to the house of Ali Baba's brother, she entreated them to lend her a small measure. Cassim's wife was very proud and envious. "I wonder," she said to herself, "what sort of grain such poor people can have to measure; but I am determined I will find out what they are doing." So before she gave the measure, she artfully rubbed the bottom with some suet.
Away ran Ali Baba's wife, measured her money, and helped her husband to bury it in the yard. Then she carried back the measure to her brother-in-law's house, without perceiving that a piece of gold was left sticking to the bottom of it. "Fine doings, indeed!" cried Cassim's wife to her husband, after examining the measure. "Your brother there, who pretends to be so poor, is richer than you are, for he does not count his money, but measures it."
Cassim, hearing these words and seeing the piece of gold, grew as envious as his wife; and hastening to his brother, threatened to inform the Cadi of his wealth if he did not confess to him how he came by it. Ali Baba without hesitation told him the history of the robbers and the secret of the cave, and offered him half his treasure; but the envious Cassim disdained so poor a sum, resolving to have fifty times more than that out of the robbers' cave. Accordingly he rose early the next morning and set out with ten mules loaded with great chests. He found the rock easily enough by Ali Baba's description; and having said "Open Sesame," he gained admission into the cave, where he found more treasure than he had expected to behold even from his brother's account of it.
He immediately began to gather bags of gold and pieces of rich brocade, all which he piled close to the door; but when he had got together as much as his ten mules could possibly carry, or even more, and wanted to get out to load them, the thoughts of his wonderful riches had made him entirely forget the word which caused the door to open. In vain he tried "Bame," "Fame," "Lame," "Tetame," and a thousand others. The door remained as immovable as the rock itself, notwithstanding Cassim kicked and screamed till he was ready to drop with fatigue and vexation.
Presently he heard the sound of horses' feet, which he rightly concluded to be the robbers, and he trembled lest he should now fall a victim to his thirst for riches. He resolved, however, to make an effort to escape; and when he heard the "Sesame" pronounced, and saw the door open, he sprang out, but was instantly put to death by the swords of the robbers.
The thieves now held a council, but not one of them could possibly guess by what means Cassim had got into the cave. They saw the heaps of treasure he had piled ready to take away, but they did not miss what Ali Baba had secured before. At length they agreed to cut Cassim's body into four quartersand hang the pieces within the cave, that it might terrify any one from further attempts; and also determined not to return themselves for some time to the cave for fear of being watched and discovered.
When Cassim's wife saw night come on, and her husband not returned, she became greatly terrified; she watched at her window till daybreak and then went to tell Ali Baba of her fears. Cassim had not informed him of his design of going to the cave; but Ali Baba, now hearing of his journey thither, went immediately in search of him. He drove his asses to the forest without delay. He was alarmed to see blood near the rock; and on entering the cave, he found the body of his unfortunate brother cut to pieces and hung up within the door. It was now too late to save him; but he took down the quarters and put them upon one of his asses, covering them with fagots of wood; and, weeping for the miserable end of his brother, he regained the city. The door of his brother's house was opened by Morgiana, an intelligent, faithful female slave, who, Ali Baba knew, was worthy to be trusted with the secret.
He therefore delivered the body to Morgiana, and went himself to impart the sad tidings to the wife of Cassim. The poor woman was deeply afflicted, and reproached herself with her foolish envy and curiosity, as being the cause of her husband's death; but Ali Baba having convinced her of the necessity of being very discreet, she checked her lamentations and resolved to leave everything to the management of Morgiana.
Morgiana, having washed the body, hastened to an apothecary's and asked for some particular medicine, saying that it was for her master Cassim, who was dangerously ill. She took care to spread the report of Cassim's illness throughout the neighborhood; and as they saw Ali Baba and his wife going daily to the house of their brother, in great affliction, they were not surprised to hear shortly that Cassim had died of his disorder.
The next difficulty was to bury him without discovery; but Morgiana was ready to contrive a plan for that also. She put on her veil and went to a distant part of the city very early in the morning, where she found a poor cobbler just opening his stall. She put a piece of gold into his hand, and told him he should have another, if he would suffer himself to be blindfolded and go with her, carrying his tools with him. Mustapha, the cobbler, hesitated at first, but the gold tempted him and he consented; when Morgiana, carefully covering his eyes, so that he could not see a step of the way, led him to Cassim's house; and taking him into the room where the body was lying, removed the bandage from his eyes, and bade him sew the mangled limbs together. Mustapha obeyed her order; and having received two pieces of gold, was led blindfold the same way back to his own stall.
Morgiana then covered the body with a winding-sheet and sent for the undertaker to make preparations for the funeral. Cassim was buried with all due solemnity the same day. Ali Baba now removed his few goods, and all the gold coin that he had brought home from the cavern, to the house of his deceased brother, of which he took possession; and Cassim's widow received every kind attention from both Ali Baba and his wife.
After an interval of some months, the troop of robbers again visited theirretreat in the forest, and were completely astonished to find the body taken away from the cave, and everything else remaining in its usual order. "We are discovered," said the captain, "and shall certainly be undone, if you do not adopt speedy measures to prevent our ruin. Which of you, my brave comrades, will undertake to search out the villain who is in possession of our secret?"
One of the boldest of the troop advanced, and offered himself; and was accepted on the following conditions: namely, that if he succeeded in his enterprise, he was to be made second in command of the troop; but that if he brought false intelligence, he was immediately to be put to death. The bold robber readily agreed to the conditions; and having disguised himself, he proceeded to the city.
He arrived there about daybreak, and found the cobbler Mustapha in his stall, which was always open before any other shop in the town. "Good morrow, friend," said the robber, as he passed the stall, "you rise betimes; I should think old as you are, you could scarcely see to work by this light."
"Indeed, sir," replied the cobbler, "old as I am, I do not want for good eyesight; as you must needs believe, when I tell you I sewed a dead body together the other day, where I had not so good a light as I have now."
"A dead body!" exclaimed the robber; "you mean, I suppose, that you sewed up the winding-sheet for a dead body."
"I mean no such thing," replied Mustapha; "I tell you that I sewed the four quarters of a man together."
This was enough to convince the robber he had luckily met with the very man who could give him the information he was in search of. However he did not wish to appear eager to learn the particulars, lest he should alarm the cobbler. "Ha! ha!" said he, "I find, good Mr. Cobbler, that you perceive I am a stranger here, and you wish to make me believe that the people of your city do impossible things."
"I tell you," said Mustapha in a loud and angry tone, "I sewed a dead body together with my own hands."—"Then I suppose you can tell me also where you performed this wonderful business." Upon this, Mustapha related every particular of his being led blindfold to the house, etc.
"Well, my friend," said the robber, "it is a fine story, I confess, but not very easy to believe; however, if you will convince me by showing me the house you talk of, I will give you four pieces of gold to make amends for my unbelief."
"I think," said the cobbler, after considering awhile, "that if you were to blindfold me, I should remember every turning we made; but with my eyes open I am sure I should never find it." Accordingly the robber covered Mustapha's eyes with his handkerchief; and the cobbler led him through most of the principal streets, and stopping by Cassim's door, said, "Here it is; I went no further than this house."
The robber immediately marked the door with a piece of chalk; and, giving Mustapha his four pieces of gold, dismissed him. Shortly after the thief and Mustapha had quitted the door, Morgiana, coming home from market, perceived the little mark of white chalk on the door. Suspecting something was wrong, she directly marked four doors on one side and five on the other of her master's, in exactly the same manner, without saying a word to any one.
The robber meantime rejoined his troop and boasted greatly of his success. His captain and comrades praised his diligence; and being well armed, they proceeded to the town in different disguises, and in separate parties of three and four together.
It was agreed among them that they were to meet in the market-place at the dusk of evening, and that the captain and the robber who had discovered the house were to go there first, to find out to whom it belonged. When they arrived in the street, having a lantern with them, they began to examine the doors, and found to their confusion and astonishment that ten doors were marked exactly alike. The robber, who was the captain's guide, could not say a word in explanation of this mystery; and when the disappointed troop got back to the forest, his enraged companions ordered him to be put to death.
Another now offered himself upon the same conditions as the former; and having bribed Mustapha, and discovered the house, he made a mark with the dark red chalk upon the door, in a part that was not in the least conspicuous; and carefully examined the surrounding doors, to be certain that no such marks were upon them. But nothing could escape the prying eyes of Morgiana; scarcely had the robber departed, when she discovered the red mark; and getting some red chalk, she marked seven doors on each side, precisely in the same place and in the same manner. The robber, valuing himself highly upon the precautions he had taken, triumphantly conducted his captain to the spot; but great indeed was his confusion and dismay when he found it impossible to say which, among fifteen houses marked exactly alike, was the right one. The captain, furious with his disappointment, returned again with the troop to the forest; and the second robber was also condemned to death.
The captain having lost two of his troop, judged that their hands were more active than their heads in such services; and he resolved to employ no other of them, but to go himself upon the business. Accordingly he repaired to the city and addressed himself to the cobbler Mustapha, who, for six pieces of gold, readily performed the services for him he had done for the other two strangers. The captain, much wiser than his men, did not amuse himself with setting a mark upon the door, but attentively considered the house, counted the number of windows, and passed by it very often, to be certain that he should know it again.
He then returned to the forest, and ordered his troop to go into the town, and buy nineteen mules and thirty-eight large jars, one full of oil and the rest empty. In two or three days the jars were bought, and all things in readiness; and the captain having put a man into each jar, properly armed, the jars being rubbed on the outside with oil, and the covers having holes bored in them for the men to breathe through, loaded his mules, and in the habit of an oil-merchant entered the town in the dusk of the evening. He proceeded to the street where Ali Baba dwelt, and found him sitting in the porch of his house. "Sir," said he to Ali Baba, "I have brought this oil a great way to sell, and am too late for this day's market. As I am quite a stranger in this town, will you do me the favor to let me put my mules into your court-yard, and direct me where I may lodge to-night?"
Ali Baba, who was a very good-natured man, welcomed the pretended oil-merchant very kindly, and offered him a bed in his own house; and having ordered the mules to be unloaded in the yard, and properly fed, he invited his guest in to supper. The captain, having seen the jars placed ready in the yard, followed Ali Baba into the house, and after supper was shown to the chamber where he was to sleep.
It happened that Morgiana was obliged to sit up later that night than usual, to get ready her master's bathing linen for the following morning; and while she was busy about the fire, her lamp went out, and there was no more oil in the house. After considering what she could possibly do for a light, she recollected the thirty-eight oil jars in the yard and determined to take a little oil out of one of them for her lamp. She took her oil pot in her hand and approached the first jar; the robber within said, "Is it time, captain?"
Any other slave, on hearing a man in an oil jar, would have screamed out; but the prudent Morgiana instantly recollected herself, and replied softly, "No, not yet; lie still till I call you." She passed on to every jar, receiving the same question and making the same answer, till she came to the last, which was really filled with oil.
Morgiana was now convinced that this was a plot of the robbers to murder her master, Ali Baba; so she ran back to the kitchen and brought out a large kettle, which she filled with oil, and set it on a great wood fire; and as soon as it boiled she went and poured into the jars sufficient of the boiling oil to kill every man within them. Having done this she put out her fire and her lamp, and crept softly to her chamber.
The captain of the robbers, finding everything quiet in the house, and perceiving no light anywhere, arose and went down into the yard to assemble his men. Coming to the first jar, he felt the steam of the boiled oil; he ran hastily to the rest and found every one of his troop put to death in the same manner. Full of rage and despair at having failed in his design, he forced the lock of a door that led into the garden and made his escape over the walls.
On the following morning Morgiana related to her master, Ali Baba, his wonderful deliverance from the pretended oil-merchant and his gang of robbers. Ali Baba at first could scarcely credit her tale; but when he saw the robbers dead in the jars, he could not sufficiently praise her courage and sagacity; and without letting any one else into the secret, he and Morgiana the next night buried the thirty-seven thieves in a deep trench at the bottom of the garden. The jars and mules, as he had no use for them, were sent from time to time to the different markets and sold.
While Ali Baba took these measures to prevent his and Cassim's adventures in the forest from being known, the captain returned to his cave, and for some time abandoned himself to grief and despair. At length, however, he determined to adopt a new scheme for the destruction of Ali Baba. He removed by degrees all the valuable merchandise from the cave to the city and took a shop exactly opposite to Ali Baba's house. He furnished this shop with everything that was rare and costly, and went by the name of the merchant Cogia Hassan. Many persons made acquaintance with the stranger; among others, Ali Baba's son went every day to theshop. The pretended Cogia Hassan soon appeared to be very fond of Ali Baba's son, offered him many presents, and often detained him at dinner, on which occasions he treated him in the handsomest manner.
Ali Baba's son thought it was necessary to make some return to these civilities, and pressed his father to invite Cogia Hassan to supper. Ali Baba made no objection, and the invitation was accordingly given. The artful Cogia Hassan would not too hastily accept this invitation, but pretended he was not fond of going into company, and that he had business which demanded his presence at home. These excuses only made Ali Baba's son the more eager to take him to his father's house; and after repeated solicitations, the merchant consented to sup at Ali Baba's house the next evening.
A most excellent supper was provided, which Morgiana cooked in the best manner, and as was her usual custom, she carried in the first dish herself. The moment she looked at Cogia Hassan, she knew it was the pretended oil-merchant. The prudent Morgiana did not say a word to any one of this discovery, but sent the other slaves into the kitchen and waited at table herself; and while Cogia Hassan was drinking, she perceived he had a dagger hid under his coat.
When supper was ended, and the dessert and wine on the table, Morgiana went away and dressed herself in the habit of a dancing-girl; she next called Abdalla, a fellow slave, to play on his tabor while she danced. As soon as she appeared at the parlor door, her master, who was very fond of seeing her dance, ordered her to come in to entertain his guest with some of her best dancing. Cogia Hassan was not very well satisfied with this entertainment, yet was compelled, for fear of discovering himself, to seem pleased with the dancing, while, in fact, he wished Morgiana a great way off, and was quite alarmed lest he should lose his opportunity of murdering Ali Baba and his son.
Morgiana danced several dances with the utmost grace and agility; and then drawing a poniard from her girdle, she performed many surprising things with it, sometimes presenting the point to one and sometimes to another, and then seemed to strike it into her own bosom. Suddenly she paused, and holding the poniard in the right hand, presented her left to her master as if begging some money; upon which Ali Baba and his son each gave her a small piece of money. She then turned to the pretended Cogia Hassan, and while he was putting his hand into his purse, she plunged the poniard into his heart.
"Wretch!" cried Ali Baba, "thou hast ruined me and my family."
"No, sir," replied Morgiana, "I have preserved, and not ruined you and your son. Look well at this traitor, and you will find him to be the pretended oil-merchant who came once before to rob and murder you."
Ali Baba pulled off the turban and the cloak which the false Cogia Hassan wore and discovered that he was not only the pretended oil-merchant, but the captain of the forty robbers who had slain his brother Cassim; nor could he doubt that his perfidious aim had been to destroy him, and probably his son, with the concealed dagger. Ali Baba, who felt the new obligation he owed to Morgiana for thus saving his life a second time, embraced her and said, "My dear Morgiana, Igive you your liberty; but my gratitude must not stop there: I will also marry you to my son, who can esteem and admire you no less than does his father." Then turning to his son, he added, "You, my son, will not refuse the wife I offer; for, in marrying Morgiana, you take to wife the preserver and benefactor of yourself and family." The son, far from showing any dislike, readily and joyfully accepted his proposed bride, having long entertained an affection for the good slave Morgiana.
Having rejoiced in their deliverance, they buried the captain that night with great privacy, in the trench along with his troop of robbers; and a few days afterwards, Ali Baba celebrated the marriage of his son and Morgiana with a sumptuous entertainment. Every one who knew Morgiana said she was worthy of her good fortune, and highly commended her master's generosity toward her.
During a twelvemonth Ali Baba forbore to go near the forest, but at length his curiosity incited him to make another journey.
When he came to the cave he saw no footsteps of either men or horses; and having said, "Open Sesame," he went in, and judged by the state of things deposited in the cavern that no one had been there since the pretended Cogia Hassan had removed the merchandise to his shop in the city. Ali Baba took as much gold home as his horse could carry.
Afterwards he carried his son to the cave and taught him the secret. This secret they handed down to their posterity; and using their good fortune with moderation, they lived in honor and splendor, and served with dignity some of the chief offices in the city.
A quaint and interesting cycle of animal stories was formed in the Middle Ages with the fox, called Reynard, as the hero or central character. Their origin was not different from that of the cycles that grew up concerning such popular heroes as King Arthur, Robin Hood, Charlemagne, and Siegfried; but one difference at least may be observed—Reynard is always represented as evil, though clever and successful. These stories of Reynard have furnished material for many workers in the field of literature and they have generally served as a vehicle for satire. Indeed, there was much satire in the original versions of the folk. Perhaps the greatest of these modern recensions is that of the German poet Goethe. The best version for use with children is that made by Sir Henry Cole ("Felix Summerley") and edited more recently by Joseph Jacobs in his usual masterly fashion. The introduction to this edition gives just the facts that the reader needs for understanding the significance of the Reynard cycle.
It may be noted that King Lion, after hearing many complaints about Reynard's evil ways, decides to bring him to court for trial. The first special constable sent to summon Reynard was Bruin the Bear, and now we are to learn—
The next morning away wentBruinthe bear in quest of the fox, armed against all plots of deceit whatsoever. And as he came through a dark forest, in whichReynardhad a bypath, which he used when he was hunted, he saw a high mountain, over which he must pass to go toMalepardus. For thoughReynardhas many houses, yetMalepardusis his chiefest and most ancient castle, and in it he lay both for defense and ease.Now at last whenBruinwas come toMalepardus, he found the gates close shut, at which after he had knocked, sitting on his tail, he called aloud, "SirReynard, are you at home? I amBruinyour kinsman, whom the King hath sent to summon you to the court, to answer many foul accusations exhibited against you, and hath taken a great vow, that if you fail to appear to this summons, your life shall answer your contempt, and your goods and honors shall lie confiscate at his highness's mercy. Therefore, fair kinsman, be advised of your friend, and go with me to the court to shun the danger that else will fall upon you."
Reynard, lying close by the gate, as his custom was for the warm sun's sake, hearing those words, departed into one of his holes, forMalepardusis full of many intricate and curious rooms, which labyrinth-wise he could pass through, when either his danger or the benefit of any prey required the same. There he meditated awhile with himself how he might counterplot and bring the bear to disgrace (who he knew loved him not) and himself to honor; at last he came forth, and said, "Dear uncleBruin, you are exceeding welcome. Pardon my slowness in coming, for at your first speech I was saying my even song, and devotion must not be neglected. Believe me, he hath done you no good service, nor do I thank him which hath sent you this weary and long journey, in which your much sweat and toil far exceeds the worth of the labor. Certainly had you not come, I had to-morrow been at the court of my own accord, yet at this time my sorrow is much lessened, inasmuch as your counsel at this present may return me double benefit. Alas, cousin, could his Majesty find no meaner a messenger than your noble self to employ in these trivial affairs? Truly it appears strange to me, especially since, next his royal self, you are of greatest renown both in blood and riches. For my part, I would we were both at court, for I fear our journey will be exceeding troublesome. To speak truth, since I made mine abstinence from flesh, I have eaten such strange new meats, that my body is very much distempered, and swelleth as if it would break."
"Alas, dear cousin," said the bear, "what meat is that which maketh you so ill?"
"Uncle," answered he, "what will it profit you to know? The meat was simple and mean. We poor men are no lords, you know, but eat that for necessity which others eat for wantonness; yet not to delay you, that which I ate was honeycombs, great, full, and most pleasant, which, compelled by hunger, I ate too unmeasurably and am thereby infinitely distempered."
"Ha," quothBruin, "honeycombs? Do you make such slight respect of them, nephew? Why it is meat for the greatest emperor in the world. Fair nephew, help me but to some of that honey, and command me whilst I live; for one little part thereof I will be your servant everlastingly."
"Sure," said the fox, "uncle, you but jest with me."
"But jest with you?" repliedBruin, "beshrew my heart then, for I am in that serious earnest, that for one lick thereat you shall make me the faithfullest of all your kindred."
"Nay," said the fox, "if you be in earnest, then know I will bring you where so much is, that ten of you shall not be able to devour it at a meal, onlyfor your love's sake, which above all things I desire, uncle."
"Not ten of us?" said the bear, "it is impossible; for had I all the honey betwixtHyblaandPortugal, yet I could in a short space eat it all myself."
"Then know, uncle," quoth the fox, "that near at hand here dwelleth a husbandman namedLanfert, who is master of so much honey that you cannot consume it in seven years, which for your love and friendship's sake I will put into your safe possession."
Bruin, mad upon the honey, swore, that to have one good meal thereof he would not only be his faithful friend, but also stop the mouths of all his adversaries.
Reynard, smiling at his easy belief, said, "If you will have seven ton, uncle, you shall have it."
These words pleased the bear so well, and made him so pleasant, that he could not stand for laughing.
Well, thought the fox, this is good fortune. Sure I will lead him where he shall laugh more measurably; and then said, "Uncle, we must delay no time, and I will spare no pains for your sake, which for none of my kin I would perform."
The bear gave him many thanks, and so away they went, the fox promising him as much honey as he could bear, but meant as many strokes as he could undergo. In the end they came toLanfert'shouse, the sight whereof made the bear rejoice. ThisLanfertwas a stout and lusty carpenter, who the other day had brought into his yard a great oak, which, as their manner is, he began to cleave, and had struck into it two wedges in such wise that the cleft stood a great way open, at which the fox rejoiced much, for it was answerable to his wish. So with a laughing countenance he said to the bear, "Behold now, dear uncle, and be careful of yourself, for within this tree is so much honey that it is unmeasurable. Try if you can get into it; yet, good uncle, eat moderately, for albeit the combs are sweet and good, yet a surfeit is dangerous, and may be troublesome to your body, which I would not for a world, since no harm can come to you but must be my dishonor."
"Sorrow not for me, nephewReynard," said the bear, "nor think me such a fool that I cannot temper mine appetite."
"It is true, my best uncle, I was too bold. I pray you enter in at the end, and you shall find your desire."
The bear with all haste entered the tree, with his two feet forward, and thrust his head into the cleft, quite over the ears, which when the fox perceived, he instantly ran and pulled the wedges out of the tree, so that he locked the bear fast therein, and then neither flattery nor anger availed the bear. For the nephew had by his deceit brought the uncle into so false a prison that it was impossible by any art to free himself of the same. Alas, what profited now his great strength and valor? Why, they were both causes of more vexation; and finding himself destitute of all relief, he began to howl and bray, and with scratching and tumbling to make such a noise thatLanfert, amazed, came hastily out of his house, having in his hand a sharp hook, whilst the bear lay wallowing and roaring within the tree.
The fox from afar off said to the bear in scorn and mocking, "Is the honey good, uncle, which you eat? How do you? Eat not too much, I beseech you. Pleasant things are apt to surfeit, and you may hinder your journey to thecourt. WhenLanfertcometh (if your belly be full) he will give you drink to digest it, and wash it down your throat."
And having thus said, he went towards his castle. But by this time,Lanfert, finding the bear fast taken in the tree, he ran to his neighbors and desired them to come into his yard, for there was a bear fast taken there. This was noised through all the town, so that there was neither man, nor woman, nor child but ran thither, some with one weapon, and some with another—as goads, rakes, broom-staves, or what they could gather up. The priest had the handle of the cross, the clerk the holy water sprinkler, and the priest's wife, DameJullock, with her distaff, for she was then spinning; nay, the old beldames came that had ne'er a tooth in their heads. This army putBruininto a great fear, being none but himself to withstand them, and hearing the clamor of the noise which came thundering upon him, he wrestled and pulled so extremely that he got out his head, but he left behind him all the skin, and his ears also; insomuch that never creature beheld a fouler or more deformed beast. For the blood covering all his face, and his hands leaving the claws and skin behind them, nothing remained but ugliness. It was an ill market the bear came to, for he lost both motion and sight—that is, feet and eyes. But notwithstanding this torment,Lanfert, the priest, and the whole parish came upon him, and so becudgeled him about his body part, that it might well be a warning to all his misery, to know that ever the weakest shall still go most to the wall. This the bear found by experience, for every one exercised the height of their fury upon him. EvenHoughlinwith the crooked leg, andLudolfwith the long broad nose, the one with a leaden mall, and the other with an iron whip, all belashed poor sirBruin;not so much but sirBertolfwith the long fingers,LanfertandOrtamdid him more annoyance than all the rest, the one having a sharp Welsh hook, the other a crooked staff well leaded at the end, which he used to play at stab ball withal. There wasBirkinandArmes Ablequack,Banethe priest with his staff, and DameJullockhis wife; all these so belabored the bear, that his life was in great danger. The poor bear in this massacre sat and sighed extremely, groaning under the burden of their strokes, of whichLanfert'swere the greatest and thundered most dreadfully; for DamePodgeofCasportwas his mother, and his father wasMarobthe steeple-maker, a passing stout man when he was alone.Bruinreceived of him many showers of stones tillLanfert'sbrother, rushing before the rest with a staff, struck the bear in the head such a blow that he could neither hear nor see, so that awaking from his astonishment the bear leaped into the river adjoining, through a cluster of wives there standing together, of which he threw divers into the water, which was large and deep, amongst whom the parson's wife was one; which the parson seeing how she floated like a sea-mew, he left striking the bear, and cried to the rest of the company, "Help! oh, help! DameJullockis in the water; help, both men and women, for whosoever saves her, I give free pardon of all their sins and transgressions, and remit all penance imposed whatsoever." This heard, every one left the bear to help DameJullock, which as soon as the bear saw, he cut the stream and swam away asfast as he could, but the priest with a great noise pursued him, crying in his rage, "Turn, villain, that I may be revenged of thee"; but the bear swam in the strength of the stream and suspected not his calling, for he was proud that he was so escaped from them. Only he bitterly cursed the honey tree and the fox, which had not only betrayed him, but had made him lose his hood from his face, and his gloves from his fingers. In this sort he swam some three miles down the water, in which time he grew so weary that he went on land to get ease, where blood trickled down his face; he groaned, sighed, and drew his breath so short, as if his last hour had been expiring.
Now whilst these things were in doing, the fox in his way home stole a fat hen, and threw her into his mail, and running through a bypath that no man might perceive him, he came towards the river with infinite joy; for he suspected that the bear was certainly slain: therefore he said to himself, "My fortune is as I wished it, for the greatest enemy I had in the court is now dead, nor can any man suspect me guilty thereof." But as he spake these words, looking towards the river, he espied whereBruinthe bear lay and rested, which struck his heart with grief, and he railed againstLanfertthe carpenter, saying, "Silly fool that thou art, what madman would have lost such good venison, especially being so fat and wholesome, and for which he took no pains, for he was taken to his hand; any man would have been proud of the fortune which thou neglectest." Thus fretting and chiding, he came to the river, where he found the bear all wounded and bloody, of whichReynardwas only guilty; yet in scorn he said to the bear, "Monsieur, Dieu vous garde."
"O thou foul red villain," said the bear to himself, "what impudence is like to this?"
But the fox went on with his speech, and said, "What, uncle? Have you forgot anything atLanfert's, or have you paid him for the honeycombs you stole? If you have not, it will redound much to your disgrace, which before you shall undergo, I will pay him for them myself. Sure the honey was excellent good, and I know much more of the same price. Good uncle, tell me before I go, into what order do you mean to enter, that you wear this new-fashioned hood? Will you be a monk, an abbot, or a friar? Surely he that shaved your crown hath cropped your ears; also your foretop is lost, and your gloves are gone; fie, sloven, go not bare-handed; they say you can singpeccavirarely."
These taunts madeBruinmad with rage, but because he could not take revenge, he was content to let him talk his pleasure. Then after a small rest he plunged again into the river, and swam down the stream, and landed on the other side, where he began with much grief to meditate how he might get to the court, for he had lost his ears, his talons, and all the skin off his feet, so that had a thousand deaths followed him, he could not go. Yet of necessity he must move, that in the end compelled by extremity, he set his tail on the ground, and tumbled his body over and over; so by degrees, tumbling now half a mile, and then half a mile, in the end he tumbled to the court, where divers beholding his strange manner of approach, they thought someprodigy had come towards them; but in the end the King knew him, and grew angry, saying, "It is sirBruin, my servant; what villains have wounded him thus, or where hath he been that he brings his death thus along with him?"
"O my dread Sovereign Lord the King," cried out the bear, "I complain me grievously unto you; behold how I am massacred, which I humbly beseech you revenge on that falseReynard, who, for doing your royal pleasure, hath brought me to this disgrace and slaughter."
Then said the King, "How durst he do this? Now by my crown I swear I will take the revenge which shall make the traitors tremble!"
Whereupon the King sent for all his council, and consulted how and in what sort to persecute against the fox, where it was generally concluded that he should be again summoned to appear and answer his trespasses; and the party to summon him they appointed to beTibertthe cat, as well for his gravity as wisdom; all which pleased the King well.