The Crimson Fairy Book - Andrew Lang (top 10 inspirational books .TXT) 📗

thought to himself, ‘If his friend dies the other will forget his pilgrimage, and will stay here and marry my daughter.’

When the king’s son awoke the next morning he inquired of the servants where his friend had gone, as he did not see him. ‘He died suddenly last night,’ said they, ‘and is to be buried immediately.’

But the king’s son sprang up, and cried, ‘If my friend is dead I can stay here no longer, and cannot linger an hour in this house.’

‘Oh, give up your journey and remain here,’ exclaimed the king, ‘and you shall have my daughter for your wife.’ ‘No,’ answered the king’s son, ‘I cannot stay; but, I pray you, grant my request, and give me a good horse, and let me go in peace, and when I have fulfilled my vow then I will return and marry your daughter.’

So the king, seeing no words would move him, ordered a horse to be brought round, and the king’s son mounted it, and took his dead friend before him on the saddle, and rode away.

Now the young man was not really dead, but only in a deep sleep.

When the king’s son reached the shrine of St. James he got down from his horse, took his friend in his arms as if he had been a child, and laid him before the altar. ‘St. James,’ he said, ‘I have fulfilled the vow my parents made for me. I have come myself to your shrine, and have brought my friend. I place him in your hands. Restore him to life, I pray, for though he be dead yet has he fulfilled his vow also.’ And, behold! while he yet prayed his friend got up and stood before him as well as ever. And both the young men gave thanks, and set their faces towards home.

When they arrived at the town where the king dwelt they entered the small house over against the castle. The news of their coming spread very soon, and the king rejoiced greatly that the handsome young prince had come back again, and commanded great feasts to be prepared, for in a few days his daughter should marry the king’s son. The young man himself could imagine no greater happiness, and when the marriage was over they spent some months at the court making merry.

At length the king’s son said, ‘My mother awaits me at home, full of care and anxiety. Here I must remain no longer, and to-morrow I will take my wife and my friend and start for home.’ And the king was content that he should do so, and gave orders to prepare for their journey.

Now in his heart the king cherished a deadly hate towards the poor young man whom he had tried to kill, but who had returned to him living, and in order to do him hurt sent him on a message to some distant spot. ‘See that you are quick,’ said he, ‘for your friend will await your return before he starts.’ The youth put spurs to his horse and departed, bidding the prince farewell, so that the king’s message might be delivered the sooner. As soon as he had started the king went to the chamber of the prince, and said to him, ‘If you do not start immediately, you will never reach the place where you must camp for the night.’

‘I cannot start without my friend,’ replied the king’s son.

‘Oh, he will be back in an hour,’ replied the king, ‘and I will give him my best horse, so that he will be sure to catch you up.’ The king’s son allowed himself to be persuaded and took leave of his father-in-law, and set out with his wife on his journey home.

Meanwhile the poor friend had been unable to get through his task in the short time appointed by the king, and when at last he returned the king said to him,

‘Your comrade is a long way off by now; you had better see if you can overtake him.’

So the young man bowed and left the king’s presence, and followed after his friend on foot, for he had no horse. Night and day he ran, till at length he reached the place where the king’s son had pitched his tent, and sank down before him, a miserable object, worn out and covered with mud and dust. But the king’s son welcomed him with joy, and tended him as he would his brother.

And at last they came home again, and the queen was waiting and watching in the palace, as she had never ceased to do since her son had rode away. She almost died of joy at seeing him again, but after a little she remembered his sick friend, and ordered a bed to be made ready and the best doctors in all the country to be sent for. When they heard of the queen’s summons they flocked from all parts, but none could cure him. After everyone had tried and failed a servant entered and informed the queen that a strange old man had just knocked at the palace gate and declared that he was able to heal the dying youth. Now this was a holy man, who had heard of the trouble the king’s son was in, and had come to help.

It happened that at this very time a little daughter was born to the king’s son, but in his distress for his friend he had hardly a thought to spare for the baby. He could not be prevailed on to leave the sick bed, and he was bending over it when the holy man entered the room. ‘Do you wish your friend to be cured?’ asked the new comer of the king’s son. ‘And what price would you pay?’

‘What price?’ answered the king’s son; ‘only tell me what I can do to heal him.’

‘Listen to me, then,’ said the old man. ‘This evening you must take your child, and open her veins, and smear the wounds of your friend with her blood. And you will see, he will get well in an instant.’

At these words the king’s son shrieked with horror, for he loved the baby dearly, but he answered, ‘I have sworn that I would treat my friend as if he were my brother, and if there is no other way my child must be sacrificed.’

As by this time evening had already fallen he took the child and opened its veins, and smeared the blood over the wounds of the sick man, and the look of death departed from him, and he grew strong and rosy once more. But the little child lay as white and still as if she had been dead. They laid her in the cradle and wept bitterly, for they thought that by the next morning she would be lost to them.

At sunrise the old man returned and asked after the sick man.

‘He is as well as ever,’ answered the king’s son.

‘And where is your baby?’

‘In the cradle yonder, and I think she is dead,’ replied the father sadly.

‘Look at her once more,’ said the holy man, and as they drew near the cradle there lay the baby smiling up at them.

‘I am St. James of Lizia,,’ said the old man, ‘and I have come to help you, for I have seen that you are a true friend. From henceforward live happily, all of you, together, and if troubles should draw near you send for me, and I will aid you to get through them.’

With these words he lifted his hand in blessing and vanished.

And they obeyed him, and were happy and content, and tried to make the people of the land happy and contented too.

[From Sicilianische Mahrehen Gonzenbach.]

 

Clever Maria

There was once a merchant who lived close to the royal palace, and had three daughters. They were all pretty, but Maria, the youngest, was the prettiest of the three. One day the king sent for the merchant, who was a widower, to give him directions about a journey he wished the good man to take. The merchant would rather not have gone, as he did not like leaving his daughters at home, but he could not refuse to obey the king’s commands, and with a heavy heart he returned home to say farewell to them. Before he left, he took three pots of basil, and gave one to each girl, saying, ‘I am going a journey, but I leave these pots. You must let nobody into the house. When I come back, they will tell me what has happened.’ ‘Nothing will have happened,’ said the girls.

The father went away, and the following day the king, accompanied by two friends, paid a visit to the three girls, who were sitting at supper. When they saw who was there, Maria said, ‘Let us go and get a bottle of wine from the cellar. I will carry the key, my eldest sister can take the light, while the other brings the bottle.’ But the king replied, ‘Oh, do not trouble; we are not thirsty.’ ‘Very well, we will not go,’ answered the two elder girls; but Maria merely said, ‘I shall go, anyhow.’ She left the room, and went to the hall where she put out the light, and putting down the key and the bottle, ran to the house of a neighbour, and knocked at the door. ‘Who is there so late?’ asked the old woman, thrusting her head out of the window.

‘Oh, let me in,’ answered Maria. ‘I have quarrelled with my eldest sister, and as I do not want to fight any more, I have come to beg you to allow me to sleep with you.’

So the old woman opened the door and Maria slept in her house. The king was very angry at her for playing truant, but when she returned home the next day, she found the plants of her sisters withered away, because they had disobeyed their father. Now the window in the room of the eldest overlooked the gardens of the king, and when she saw how fine and ripe the medlars were on the trees, she longed to eat some, and begged Maria to scramble down by a rope and pick her a few, and she would draw her up again. Maria, who was good-natured, swung herself into the garden by the rope, and got the medlars, and was just making the rope fast under her arms so as to be hauled up, when her sister cried: ‘Oh, there are such delicious lemons a little farther on. You might bring me one or two.’ Maria turned round to pluck them, and found herself face to face with the gardener, who caught hold of her, exclaiming, ‘What are you doing here, you little thief?’ ‘Don’t call me names,’ she said, ‘or you will get the worst of it,’ giving him as she spoke such a violent push that he fell panting into the lemon bushes. Then she seized the cord and clambered up to the window.

The next day the second sister had a fancy for bananas and begged so hard, that, though Maria had declared she would never do such a thing again, at last she consented, and went down the rope into the king’s garden. This time she met the king, who said to her, ‘Ah, here you are again, cunning one! Now you shall pay for your misdeeds.’

And he began to cross-question her about what she had done. Maria denied nothing, and when she had finished, the king said again, ‘Follow me to the house, and there you shall pay the penalty.’ As he spoke, he started for the house, looking back from time to time to make sure that Maria had not run away.