Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 03 (25 page)

Cola-Mattheo, who was, as I have said before, a great simpleton,
made no reply; but before sunrise next morning he went to the wood
and gathered a bunch of St. John's Wort, and rosemary, and
suchlike herbs, and rubbed them, as he had been told, on the floor
of the palace. Hardly had he done so than the walls immediately
turned into ivory, so richly inlaid with gold and silver that they
dazzled the eyes of all beholders. The King, when he rose and saw
the miracle that had been performed, was beside himself with
amazement, and didn't know what in the world he was to do.

But when Cola-Mattheo came next day, and, in the name of the
snake, demanded the hand of the Princess, the King replied, 'Don't
be in such a hurry; if the snake really wants to marry my
daughter, he must do some more things first, and one of these is
to turn all the paths and walls of my garden into pure gold before
noon to-morrow.'

When the snake was told of this new condition, he replied, 'To-
morrow morning, early, you must go and collect all the odds and
ends of rubbish you can find in the streets, and then take them
and throw them on the paths and walls of the garden, and you'll
see then if we won't be more than a match for the old King.'

So Cola-Mattheo rose at cock-crow, took a large basket under his
arm, and carefully collected all the broken fragments of pots and
pans, and jugs and lamps, and other trash of that sort. No sooner
had he scattered them over the paths and walls of the King's
garden than they became one blaze of glittering gold, so that
everyone's eyes were dazzled with the brilliancy, and everyone's
soul was filled with wonder. The King, too, was amazed at the
sight, but still he couldn't make up his mind to part with his
daughter, so when Cola-Mattheo came to remind him of his promise
he replied, 'I have still a third demand to make. If the snake can
turn all the trees and fruit of my garden into precious stones,
then I promise him my daughter in marriage.'

When the peasant informed the snake what the King had said, he
replied, 'To-morrow morning, early, you must go to the market and
buy all the fruit you see there, and then sow all the stones and
seeds in the palace garden, and, if I'm not mistaken, the King
will be satisfied with the result.'

Cola-Mattheo rose at dawn, and taking a basket on his arm, he went
to the market, and bought all the pomegranates, apricots,
cherries, and other fruit he could find there, and sowed the seeds
and stones in the palace garden. In one moment, the trees were all
ablaze with rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and every other precious
stone you can think of.

This time the King felt obliged to keep his promise, and calling
his daughter to him, he said, 'My dear Grannonia,' for that was
the Princess's name, 'more as a joke than anything else, I
demanded what seemed to me impossibilities from your bridegroom,
but now that he has done all I required, I am bound to stick to my
part of the bargain. Be a good child, and as you love me, do not
force me to break my word, but give yourself up with as good grace
as you can to a most unhappy fate.'

'Do with me what you like, my lord and father, for your will is my
law,' answered Grannonia.

When the King heard this, he told Cola-Mattheo to bring the snake
to the palace, and said that he was prepared to receive the
creature as his son-in-law.

The snake arrived at court in a carriage made of gold and drawn by
six white elephants; but wherever it appeared on the way, the
people fled in terror at the sight of the fearful reptile.

When the snake reached the palace, all the courtiers shook and
trembled with fear down to the very scullion, and the King and
Queen were in such a state of nervous collapse that they hid
themselves in a far-away turret. Grannonia alone kept her presence
of mind, and although both her father and mother implored her to
fly for her life, she wouldn't move a step, saying, 'I'm certainly
not going to fly from the man you have chosen for my husband.'

As soon as the snake saw Grannonia, it wound its tail round her
and kissed her. Then, leading her into a room, it shut the door,
and throwing off its skin, it changed into a beautiful young man
with golden locks, and flashing eyes, who embraced Grannonia
tenderly, and said all sorts of pretty things to her.

When the King saw the snake shut itself into a room with his
daughter, he said to his wife, 'Heaven be merciful to our child,
for I fear it is all over with her now. This cursed snake has most
likely swallowed her up.' Then they put their eyes to the keyhole
to see what had happened.

Their amazement knew no bounds when they saw a beautiful youth
standing before their daughter with the snake's skin lying on the
floor beside him. In their excitement they burst open the door,
and seizing the skin they threw it into the fire. But no sooner
had they done this than the young man called out, 'Oh, wretched
people! what have you done?' and before they had time to look
round he had changed himself into a dove, and dashing against the
window he broke a pane of glass, and flew away from their sight.

But Grannonia, who in one and the same moment saw herself merry
and sad, cheerful and despairing, rich and beggared, complained
bitterly over this robbery of her happiness, this poisoning of her
cup of joy, this unlucky stroke of fortune, and laid all the blame
on her parents, though they assured her that they had meant no
harm. But the Princess refused to be comforted, and at night, when
all the inhabitants of the palace were asleep, she stole out by a
back door, disguised as a peasant woman, determined to seek for
her lost happiness till she found it. When she got to the
outskirts of the town, led by the light of the moon, she met a
fox, who offered to accompany her, an offer which Grannonia gladly
accepted, saying 'You are most heartily welcome, for I don't know
my way at all about the neighbourhood.'

So they went on their way together, and came at last to a wood,
where, being tired with walking, they paused to rest under the
shade of a tree, where a spring of water sported with the tender
grass, refreshing it with its crystal spray.

They laid themselves down on the green carpet and soon fell fast
asleep, and did not waken again till the sun was high in the
heavens. They rose up and stood for some time listening to the
birds singing, because Grannonia delighted in their songs.

When the fox perceived this, he said: 'If you only understood, as
I do, what these little birds are saying, your pleasure would be
even greater.'

Provoked by his words—for we all know that curiosity is as deeply
inborn in every woman as even the love of talking—Grannonia
implored the fox to tell her what the birds had said.

At first the wily fox refused to tell her what he had gathered
from the conversation of the birds, but at last he gave way to her
entreaties, and told her that they had spoken of the misfortunes
of a beautiful young Prince, whom a wicked enchantress had turned
into a snake for the period of seven years. At the end of this
time he had fallen in love with a charming Princess, but that when
he had shut himself up into a room with her, and had thrown off
his snake's skin, her parents had forced their way into the room
and had burnt the skin, whereupon the Prince, changed into the
likeness of a dove, had broken a pane of glass in trying to fly
out of the window, and had wounded himself so badly that the
doctors despaired of his life.

Grannonia, when she learnt that they were talking of her lover,
asked at once whose son he was, and if there was any hope of his
recovery; to which the fox made answer that the birds had said he
was the son of the King of Vallone Grosso, and that the only thing
that could cure him was to rub the wounds on his head with the
blood of the very birds who had told the tale.

Then Grannonia knelt down before the fox, and begged him in her
sweetest way to catch the birds for her and procure their blood,
promising at the same time to reward him richly.

'All right,' said the fox, 'only don't be in such a hurry; let's
wait till night, when the little birds have gone to roost, then
I'll climb up and catch them all for you.'

So they passed the day, talking now of the beauty of the Prince,
now of the father of the Princess, and then of the misfortune that
had happened. At last the night arrived, and all the little birds
were asleep high up on the branches of a big tree. The fox climbed
up stealthily and caught the little creatures with his paws one
after the other; and when he had killed them all he put their
blood into a little bottle which he wore at his side and returned
with it to Grannonia, who was beside herself with joy at the
result of the fox's raid. But the fox said, 'My dear daughter,
your joy is in vain, because, let me tell you, this blood is of no
earthly use to you unless you add some of mine to it,' and with
these words he took to his heels.

Grannonia, who saw her hopes dashed to the ground in this cruel
way, had recourse to flattery and cunning, weapons which have
often stood the sex in good stead, and called out after the fox,
'Father Fox, you would be quite right to save your skin, if, in
the first place, I didn't feel I owed so much to you, and if, in
the second, there weren't other foxes in the world; but as you
know how grateful I feel to you, and as there are heaps of other
foxes about, you can trust yourself to me. Don't behave like the
cow that kicks the pail over after it has filled it with milk, but
continue your journey with me, and when we get to the capital you
can sell me to the King as a servant girl.'

It never entered the fox's head that even foxes can be outwitted,
so after a bit he consented to go with her; but he hadn't gone far
before the cunning girl seized a stick, and gave him such a blow
with it on the head, that he dropped down dead on the spot. Then
Grannonia took some of his blood and poured it into her little
bottle; and went on her way as fast as she could to Vallone
Grosso.

When she arrived there she went straight to the Royal palace, and
let the King be told she had come to cure the young Prince.

The King commanded her to be brought before him at once, and was
much astonished when he saw that it was a girl who undertook to do
what all the cleverest doctors of his kingdom had failed in. As an
attempt hurts no one, he willingly consented that she should do
what she could.

'All I ask,' said Grannonia, 'is that, should I succeed in what
you desire, you will give me your son in marriage.'

The King, who had given up all hopes of his son's recovery,
replied: 'Only restore him to life and health and he shall be
yours. It is only fair to give her a husband who gives me a son.'

And so they went into the Prince's room. The moment Grannonia had
rubbed the blood on his wounds the illness left him, and he was as
sound and well as ever. When the King saw his son thus
marvellously restored to life and health, he turned to him and
said: 'My dear son, I thought of you as dead, and now, to my great
joy and amazement, you are alive again. I promised this young
woman that if she should cure you, to bestow your hand and heart
on her, and seeing that Heaven has been gracious, you must fulfil
the promise I made her; for gratitude alone forces me to pay this
debt.'

But the Prince answered: 'My lord and father, I would that my will
were as free as my love for you is great. But as I have plighted
my word to another maiden, you will see yourself, and so will this
young woman, that I cannot go back from my word, and be faithless
to her whom I love.'

When Grannonia heard these words, and saw how deeply rooted the
Prince's love for her was, she felt very happy, and blushing rosy
red, she said: 'But should I get the other lady to give up her
rights, would you then consent to marry me?'

'Far be it from me,' replied the Prince, 'to banish the beautiful
picture of my love from my heart. Whatever she may say, my heart
and desire will remain the same, and though I were to lose my life
for it, I couldn't consent to this exchange.'

Grannonia could keep silence no longer, and throwing off her
peasant's disguise, she discovered herself to the Prince, who was
nearly beside himself with joy when he recognised his fair lady-
love. He then told his father at once who she was, and what she
had done and suffered for his sake.

Then they invited the King and Queen of Starza-Longa to their
Court, and had a great wedding feast, and proved once more that
there is no better seasoning for the joys of true love than a few
pangs of grief.

Once upon a time there lived a man called Simon, who was very
rich, but at the same time as stingy and miserly as he could be.
He had a housekeeper called Nina, a clever capable woman, and as
she did her work carefully and conscientiously, her master had the
greatest respect for her.

In his young days Simon had been one of the gayest and most active
youths of the neighbourhood, but as he grew old and stiff he found
it very difficult to walk, and his faithful servant urged him to
get a horse so as to save his poor old bones. At last Simon gave
way to the request and persuasive eloquence of his housekeeper,
and betook himself one day to the market where he had seen a mule,
which he thought would just suit him, and which he bought for
seven gold pieces.

Now it happened that there were three merry rascals hanging about
the market-place, who much preferred living on other people's
goods to working for their own living. As soon as they saw that
Simon had bought a mule, one of them said to his two boon
companions, 'My friends, this mule must be ours before we are many
hours older.'

'But how shall we manage it,' asked one of them.

'We must all three station ourselves at different intervals along
the old man's homeward way, and must each in his turn declare that
the mule he has bought is a donkey. If we only stick to it you'll
see the mule will soon be ours.' This proposal quite satisfied the
others, and they all separated as they had agreed.