Authors: Andrew Lang

The Violet Fairy Book (39 page)

BOOK: The Violet Fairy Book

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'Not so!' cried the sultan, 'but a shameful death you shall die!'
And the princess fell on her knees, and begged she might die with
him.

'You are out in your reckoning, Sir Sultan!' said Virgilius,
whose patience was at an end, and he cast a spell over the sultan
and his lords, so that they believed that the great river of
Babylon was flowing through the hall, and that they must swim for
their lives. So, leaving them to plunge and leap like frogs and
fishes, Virgilius took the princess in his arms, and carried her
over the airy bridge back to Rome.

Now Virgilius did not think that either his palace, or even Rome
itself, was good enough to contain such a pearl as the princess,
so he built her a city whose foundations stood upon eggs, buried
far away down in the depths of the sea. And in the city was a
square tower, and on the roof of the tower was a rod of iron, and
across the rod he laid a bottle, and on the bottle he placed an
egg, and from the egg there hung chained an apple, which hangs
there to this day. And when the egg shakes the city quakes, and
when the egg shall be broken the city shall be destroyed. And
the city Virgilius filled full of wonders, such as never were
seen before, and he called its name Naples.

(Adapted from 'Virgilius the Sorcerer.')

Mogarzea and His Son
*

There was once a little boy, whose father and mother, when they
were dying, left him to the care of a guardian. But the guardian
whom they chose turned out to be a wicked man, and spent all the
money, so the boy determined to go away and strike out a path for
himself.

So one day he set off, and walked and walked through woods and
meadows till when evening came he was very tired, and did not
know where to sleep. He climbed a hill and looked about him to
see if there was no light shining from a window. At first all
seemed dark, but at length he noticed a tiny spark far, far off,
and, plucking up his spirits, he at once went in search of it.

The night was nearly half over before he reached the spark, which
turned out to be a big fire, and by the fire a man was sleeping
who was so tall he might have been a giant. The boy hesitated
for a moment what he should do; then he crept close up to the
man, and lay down by his legs.

When the man awoke in the morning he was much surprised to find
the boy nestling up close to him.

'Dear me! where do you come from?' said he.

'I am your son, born in the night,' replied the boy.

'If that is true,' said the man, 'you shall take care of my
sheep, and I will give you food. But take care you never cross
the border of my land, or you will repent it.' Then he pointed
out where the border of his land lay, and bade the boy begin his
work at once.

The young shepherd led his flock out to the richest meadows and
stayed with them till evening, when he brought them back, and
helped the man to milk them. When this was done, they both sat
down to supper, and while they were eating the boy asked the big
man: 'What is your name, father?'

'Mogarzea,' answered he.

'I wonder you are not tired of living by yourself in this lonely
place.'

'There is no reason you should wonder! Don't you know that there
was never a bear yet who danced of his own free will?'

'Yes, that is true,' replied the boy. 'But why is it you are
always so sad? Tell me your history, father.'

'What is the use of my telling you things that would only make
you sad too?'

'Oh, never mind that! I should like to hear. Are you not my
father, and am I not your son?'

'Well, if you really want to know my story, this is it: As I
told you, my name is Mogarzea, and my father is an emperor. I
was on my way to the Sweet Milk Lake, which lies not far from
here, to marry one of the three fairies who have made the lake
their home. But on the road three wicked elves fell on me, and
robbed me of my soul, so that ever since I have stayed in this
spot watching my sheep without wishing for anything different,
without having felt one moment's joy, or ever once being able to
laugh. And the horrible elves are so ill-natured that if anyone
sets one foot on their land he is instantly punished. That is
why I warn you to be careful, lest you should share my fate.'

'All right, I will take great care. Do let me go, father,' said
the boy, as they stretched themselves out to sleep.

At sunrise the boy got up and led his sheep out to feed, and for
some reason he did not feel tempted to cross into the grassy
meadows belonging to the elves, but let his flock pick up what
pasture they could on Mogarzea's dry ground.

On the third day he was sitting under the shadow of a tree,
playing on his flute—and there was nobody in the world who could
play a flute better—when one of his sheep strayed across the
fence into the flowery fields of the elves, and another and
another followed it. But the boy was so absorbed in his flute
that he noticed nothing till half the flock were on the other
side.

He jumped up, still playing on his flute, and went after the
sheep, meaning to drive them back to their own side of the
border, when suddenly he saw before him three beautiful maidens
who stopped in front of him, and began to dance. The boy
understood what he must do, and played with all his might, but
the maidens danced on till evening.

'Now let me go,' he cried at last, 'for poor Mogarzea must be
dying of hunger. I will come and play for you to-morrow.'

'Well, you may go!' they said, 'but remember that even if you
break your promise you will not escape us.'

So they both agreed that the next day he should come straight
there with the sheep, and play to them till the sun went down.
This being settled, they each returned home.

Mogarzea was surprised to find that his sheep gave so much more
milk than usual, but as the boy declared he had never crossed the
border the big man did not trouble his head further, and ate his
supper heartily.

With the earliest gleams of light, the boy was off with his sheep
to the elfin meadow, and at the first notes of his flute the
maidens appeared before him and danced and danced and danced till
evening came. Then the boy let the flute slip through his
fingers, and trod on it, as if by accident.

If you had heard the noise he made, and how he wrung his hands
and wept and cried that he had lost his only companion, you would
have been sorry for him. The hearts of the elves were quite
melted, and they did all they could to comfort him.

'I shall never find another flute like that, moaned he. 'I have
never heard one whose tone was as sweet as mine! It was cut
from the centre of a seven-year-old cherry tree!'

'There is a cherry tree in our garden that is exactly seven years
old,' said they. 'Come with us, and you shall make yourself
another flute.'

So they all went to the cherry tree, and when they were standing
round it the youth explained that if he tried to cut it down with
an axe he might very likely split open the heart of the tree,
which was needed for the flute. In order to prevent this, he
would make a little cut in the bark, just large enough for them
to put their fingers in, and with this help he could manage to
tear the tree in two, so that the heart should run no risk of
damage. The elves did as he told them without a thought; then
he quickly drew out the axe, which had been sticking into the
cleft, and behold! all their fingers were imprisoned tight in
the tree.

It was in vain that they shrieked with pain and tried to free
themselves. They could do nothing, and the young man remained
cold as marble to all their entreaties.

Then he demanded of them Mogarzea's soul.

'Oh, well, if you must have it, it is in a bottle on the window
sill,' said they, hoping that they might obtain their freedom at
once. But they were mistaken.

'You have made so many men suffer,' answered he sternly, 'that it
is but just you should suffer yourselves, but to-morrow I will
let you go.' And he turned towards home, taking his sheep and
the soul of Mogarzea with him.

Mogarzea was waiting at the door, and as the boy drew near he
began scolding him for being so late. But at the first word of
explanation the man became beside himself with joy, and he sprang
so high into the air that the false soul which the elves had
given him flew out of his mouth, and his own, which had been shut
tightly into the flask of water, took its place.

When his excitement had somewhat calmed down, he cried to the
boy, 'Whether you are really my son matters nothing to me; tell
me, how can I repay you for what you have done for me?'

'By showing me where the Milk Lake is, and how I can get one of
the three fairies who lives there to wife, and by letting me
remain your son for ever.'

The night was passed by Mogarzea and his son in songs and
feasting, for both were too happy to sleep, and when day dawned
they set out together to free the elves from the tree. When they
reached the place of their imprisonment, Mogarzea took the cherry
tree and all the elves with it on his back, and carried them off
to his father's kingdom, where everyone rejoiced to see him home
again. But all he did was to point to the boy who had saved him,
and had followed him with his flock.

For three days the boy stayed in the palace, receiving the thanks
and praises of the whole court. Then he said to Mogarzea:

'The time has come for me to go hence, but tell me, I pray you,
how to find the Sweet Milk Lake, and I will return, and will
bring my wife back with me.'

Mogarzea tried in vain to make him stay, but, finding it was
useless, he told him all he knew, for he himself had never seen
the lake.

For three summer days the boy and his flute journeyed on, till
one evening he reached the lake, which lay in the kingdom of a
powerful fairy. The next morning had scarcely dawned when the
youth went down to the shore, and began to play on his flute, and
the first notes had hardly sounded when he saw a beautiful fairy
standing before him, with hair and robes that shone like gold.
He gazed at her in wonder, when suddenly she began to dance. Her
movements were so graceful that he forgot to play, and as soon as
the notes of his flute ceased she vanished from his sight. The
next day the same thing happened, but on the third he took
courage, and drew a little nearer, playing on his flute all the
while. Suddenly he sprang forward, seized her in his arms and
kissed her, and plucked a rose from her hair.

The fairy gave a cry, and begged him to give her back her rose,
but he would not. He only stuck the rose in his hat, and turned
a deaf ear to all her prayers.

At last she saw that her entreaties were vain, and agreed to
marry him, as he wished. And they went together to the palace,
where Mogarzea was still waiting for him, and the marriage was
celebrated by the emperor himself. But every May they returned
to the Milk Lake, they and their children, and bathed in its
waters.

(Olumanische Marchen.)

* * *