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C. F. F |
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THE FAITHFUL PRINCE
ONG ago there lived a
King who had an only son, by name Prince Bahrâmgor[1], who was as splendid as the
noonday sun, and as beautiful as the midnight moon. Now one day the Prince went
a-hunting, and he hunted to the north, but found no game; he hunted to the
south, yet no quarry arose; he hunted to the east, and still found nothing.
Then he turned towards the setting sun, when suddenly from a thicket flashed a
golden deer. Burnished gold were its hoofs and horns, rich gold its body.
Dazzled by the wonderful sight, the astonished Prince bade his retainers form a
circle round the beautiful strange creature, and so gradually enclose and
secure it.
'Remember,
said the Prince, 'I hold him towards whom the deer may run to be responsible
for its escape, or capture.'
Closer
and closer drew the glittering circle of horsemen, while in the centre stood
the golden deer, until, with marvellous speed, it fled straight towards the
Prince. But he was swifter still, and caught it by the golden horns. Then the
creature found human voice, and cried, 'Let me go, oh! Prince Bahrâmgor
and I will give you countless treasures!'
But
the Prince laughed, saying, ' Not so! I have gold and jewels galore, but never
a golden deer.'
'Let
me go,' pleaded the deer, 'and I will give you more than treasures!'
'And
what may that be?' asked the Prince, still laughing.
'I
will give you a ride on my back such as never mortal man rode before,' replied
the deer.
'Done!'
cried the gay Prince, vaulting lightly to the deer's back; and immediately,
like a bird from a thicket, the strange glittering creature rose through the
air till it was lost to sight. For seven days and seven nights it carried the
Prince over all the world, so that he could see everything like a picture
passing below, and on the evening of the seventh day it touched the earth once
more, and instantly vanished. Prince Bahrâmgor rubbed his eyes in
bewilderment, for he had never been in such a strange country before.
Everything seemed new and unfamiliar. He wandered about for some time looking
for the trace of a house or a footprint, when suddenly from the ground at his
feet popped a wee old man.
'How
did you come here? and what are you looking for, my son?' quoth he politely.
So
Prince Bahrâmgor told him how he had ridden thither on a golden deer,
which had disappeared, and how he was now quite lost and bewildered in this
strange country.
'Do
not be alarmed, my son,' returned the wee old man; 'it is true you are in Demonsland[2], but no one shall hurt
you, for I am the demon Jasdrûl[3] whose life you saved
when I was on the earth in the shape of a golden deer.'
Then
the demon Jasdrûl took Prince Bahrâmgor to his house, and treated
him right royally, giving him a hundred keys, and saying, 'These are the keys
of my palaces and gardens. Amuse yourself by looking at them, and mayhap
somewhere you may find a treasure worth having.'
So
every day Prince Bahrâmgor opened a new garden, and examined a new
palace, and in one he found rooms full of gold, and in another jewels, and in a
third rich stuffs, in fact everything the heart could desire, until he came to
the hundredth palace, and that he found was a mere hovel, full of all poisonous
things, herbs, stones, snakes, and insects. But the garden in which it stood
was by far the most magnificent of all. It was seven miles this way, and seven
miles that, full of tall trees and bright flowers, lakes, streams, fountains,
and summer-houses. Gay butterflies flitted about, and birds sang in it all day
and all night The Prince, enchanted, wandered seven miles this way, and seven
miles that, until he was so tired that he lay down to rest in a marble
summer-house, where he found a golden bed, all spread with silken shawls. Now
while he slept, the Fairy Princess Shâhpasand[4], who was
taking the air, fairy-fashion, in the shape of a pigeon, happened to fly over
the garden, and catching sight of the beautiful, splendid, handsome young
Prince, she sank to earth in sheer astonishment at beholding such a lovely
sight, and, resuming her natural shape–as fairies always do when they touch the
ground–she stooped over the young man and gave him a kiss.
He
woke up in a hurry, and what was his astonishment on seeing the most beautiful
Princess in the world kneeling gracefully beside him!
'Dearest
Prince!' cried the maiden, clasping her hands, 'I have been looking for you
everywhere!'
Now
the very same thing befell Prince Bahrâmgor that had happened to the
Princess Shâhpasand–that is to say, no sooner did he set eyes on her than
he fell desperately in love, and so, of course, they agreed to get married
without any delay. Nevertheless, the Prince thought it best first to consult
his host, the demon Jasdrûl, seeing how powerful he was in Demonsland. To
the young man's delight, the demon not only gave his consent, but appeared
greatly pleased, rubbing his hands and saying, 'Now you will remain with me and
be so happy that you will never think of returning to your own country any
more.'
So
Prince Bahrâmgor and the Fairy Princess Shâhpasand were married,
and lived ever so happily, for ever so long a time.
At
last the thought of the home he had left came back to the Prince, and he began
to think longingly of his father the King, his mother the Queen, and of his
favourite horse and hound. Then from thinking of them he fell to speaking of
them to the Princess, his wife, and then from speaking he took to sighing and
sighing and refusing his dinner, until he became quite pale and thin. Now the
demon Jasdrûl used to sit every night in a little echoing room below the
Prince and Princess's chamber, and listen to what they said, so as to be sure
they were happy; and when he heard the Prince talking of his far-away home on
the earth, he sighed too, for he was a kind-hearted demon, and loved his
handsome young Prince.
At
last he asked Prince Bahrâmgor what was the cause of his growing so pale
and sighing so often–for so amiable was the young man that he would rather have
died of grief than have committed the rudeness of telling his host he was
longing to get away; but when he was asked he said piteously, 'Oh, good demon!
let me go home and see my father the King, my mother the Queen, my horse and my
hound, for I am very weary. Let me and my Princess go, or assuredly I shall
die!'
At
first the demon refused, but at last he took pity on the Prince, and said, 'Be
it so; nevertheless you will soon repent and long to be back in Demonsland; for
the world has changed since you left it, and you will have trouble. Take this
hair with you, and when you need help, burn it, then I will come immediately to
your assistance.
Then
the demon Jasdrûl said a regretful goodbye, and, Hey presto!–Prince
Bahrâmgor found himself standing outside his native city, with his
beautiful bride beside him.
But,
alas! as the good-natured demon had foretold, everything was changed. His
father and mother were both dead, a usurper sat on the throne, and had put a
price on Bahrâmgor's head should he ever return from his mysterious
journey. Luckily no one recognised the young Prince (so much had he changed
during his residence in Demonsland) save his old huntsman, who, though
overjoyed to see his master once more, said it was as much as his life was
worth to give the Prince shelter; still, being a faithful servant, he agreed to
let the young couple live in the garret of his house.
'My
old mother, who is blind,' he said, 'will never see you coming and going; and
as you used to be fond of sport, you can help me to hunt, as I used to help
you.'
So
the splendid Prince Bahrâmgor and his lovely Princess hid in the garret
of the huntsman's house, and no one knew they were there. Now one fine day,
when the Prince had gone out to hunt, as servant to the huntsman, Princess
Shâhpasand took the opportunity of washing her beautiful golden hair,
which hung round her ivory neck and down to her pretty ankles like a shower of
sunshine, and when she had washed it she combed it, and set the window ajar so
that the breeze might blow in and dry her hair.
Just
at this moment the Chief Constable[5] of the town happened to
pass by, and hearing the window open, looked up and saw the lovely
Shâhpasand, with her glittering golden hair. He was so overcome at the
sight that he fell right off his horse into the gutter. His servants, thinking
he had a fit, picked him up and carried him back to his house, where he never
ceased raving about a beautiful fairy with golden hair in the huntsman's garret.
This set everybody wondering whether he had been bewitched, and the story
meeting the King's ear, he sent down some soldiers to make inquiries at the
huntsman's house.
'No
one lives here!' said the huntsman's cross old mother, 'no beautiful lady, nor
ugly one either, nor any person at all, save me and my son. However, go to the
garret and look for yourselves.'
Hearing
these words of the old woman, Princess Shâhpasand bolted the door, and,
seizing a knife, cut a hole in the wooden roof. Then, taking the form of a
pigeon, she flew out, so that when the soldiers burst open the door they found
no one in the garret.
The
poor Princess was greatly distressed at having to leave her beautiful young
Prince in this hurried way, and as she flew past the blind old crone she
whispered in her ear, 'I go to my father's house in the Emerald
Mountain.'[6]
In
the evening when Prince Bahrâmgor returned from hunting, great was his
grief at finding the garret empty! Nor could the blind old crone tell him much
of what had occurred; still, when he heard of the mysterious voice which
whispered, 'I go to my father's house in the Emerald Mountain,' he was at first
somewhat comforted. Afterwards, when he reflected that he had not the remotest
idea where the Emerald Mountain was to be found, he fell into a very sad state,
and casting himself on the ground he sobbed and sighed; he refused his dinner,
and never ceased crying, 'Oh, my dearest Princess! my dearest Princess!'
At
last he remembered the magic hair, and taking it from its hiding-place threw it
into the fire. It had scarcely begun to burn when, Hey presto!–the demon
Jasdrûl appeared, and asked him what he wanted.
'Show
me the way to the Emerald Mountain,' cried the Prince.
Then
the kind-hearted demon shook his head sorrowfully, saying, 'You would never
reach it alive, my son. Be guided by me,–forget all that has passed, and begin
a new life.'
'I
have but one life,' answered the faithful Prince, 'and that is gone if I lose my
dearest Princess! As I must die, let me die seeking her.'
Then
the demon Jasdrûl was touched by the constancy of the splendid young
Prince, and promised to aid him as far as possible. So he carried the young man
back to Demonsland, and giving him a magic wand, bade him travel over the
country until he came to the demon Nânak Chand's[7] house.
'You
will meet with many dangers by the way,' said his old friend, 'but keep the
magic wand in your hand day and night, and nothing will harm you. That is all I
can do for you, but Nânak Chand, who is my elder brother, can help you
farther on your way.'
So
Prince Bahrâmgor travelled through Demonsland, and because he held the
magic wand in his hand day and night, no harm came to him. At last he arrived
at the demon Nânak Chand's house, just as the demon had awakened from
sleep, which, according to the habit of demons, had lasted for twelve years.
Naturally he was desperately hungry, and on catching sight of the Prince,
thought what a dainty morsel he would be for breakfast; nevertheless, though
his mouth watered, the demon restrained his appetite when he saw the wand, and
asked the Prince politely what he wanted. But when the demon Nânak Chand
had heard the whole story, he shook his head, saying, 'You will never reach the
Emerald Mountain, my son. Be guided by me–forget all that has passed, and begin
a new life.'
Then
the splendid young Prince answered as before, 'I have but one life, and that is
gone if I lose my dearest Princess! If I must die, let me die seeking her.'
This
answer touched the demon Nânak Chand and he gave the faithful Prince a
box of powdered antimony,[8] and bade him travel on
through Demonsland till he came to the house of the great demon Safed.[9] 'For,' said he, 'Safed
is my eldest brother, and if anybody can do what you want, he will. If you are
in need, rub the powder on your eyes, and whatever you wish near will be near,
but whatever you wish far will be far.'
So
the constant Prince travelled on through all the dangers and difficulties of
Demonsland, till he reached the demon Safed's house, to whom he told his story,
showing the powder and the magic wand, which had brought him so far in safety.
But
the great demon Safed shook his head, saying, 'You will never reach the Emerald
Mountain alive, my son. Be guided by me,–forget all that has passed, and begin
a new life.'
Still
the faithful Prince gave the same answer, 'I have but one life, and that is
gone if I lose my dearest Princess! If I must die, let me die seeking her.'
Then
the great demon nodded his head approvingly, and said, 'You are a brave lad,
and I must do my best for you. Take this yech-cap:[10] whenever you put it on
you will become invisible. Journey to the north, and after a while in the far
distance you will see the Emerald Mountain. Then put the powder on your eyes
and wish the mountain near, for it is an enchanted hill, and the
farther you climb the higher it grows.[11] On the summit lies the
Emerald City: enter it by means of your invisible cap, and find the Princess–if
you can.'
So
the Prince journeyed joyfully to the north, until in the far far distance he
saw the glittering Emerald Mountain. Then he rubbed the powder on his eyes, and
behold! what he desired was near, and the Emerald City lay before him, looking
as if it had been cut out of a single jewel. But the Prince thought of nothing
save his dearest Princess, and wandered up and down the gleaming city protected
by his invisible cap. Still he could not find her. The fact was, the Princess
Shâhpasand's father had locked her up inside seven prisons, for fear she
should fly away again, for he doated on her, and was in terror lest she should
escape back to earth and her handsome young Prince, of whom she never ceased
talking.
'If
your husband comes to you, well and good,' said the old man, 'but you shall
never go back to him.'
So
the poor Princess wept all day long inside her seven prisons, for how could
mortal man ever reach the Emerald Mountain?
Now
the Prince, whilst roaming disconsolately about the city, noticed a servant
woman who every day at a certain hour entered a certain door with a tray of
sweet dishes on her head. Being curious, he took advantage of his invisible
cap, and when she opened the door he slipped in behind her. Nothing was to be
seen but a large door, which, after shutting and locking the outer one, the
servant opened. Again Prince Bahrâmgor slipped in behind her, and again
saw nothing but a huge door. And so on be went through all the seven doors,
till he came to the seventh prison, and there sat the beautiful Princess
Shâhpasand, weeping salt tears. At the sight of her he could scarcely
refrain from flinging himself at her feet, but remembering that he was
invisible, he waited till the servant after putting down the tray retired,
locking all the seven prisons one by one. Then he sat down by the Princess and
began to eat out of the same dish with her.
She,
poor thing, had not the appetite of a sparrow, and scarcely ate anything, so
when she saw the contents of the dish disappearing, she thought she must be
dreaming. But when the whole had vanished, she became convinced some one was in
the room with her, and cried out faintly, 'Who eats in the same dish with me?'
Then
Prince Bahrâmgor lifted the yech -cap from his forehead, so that
he was no longer quite invisible, but showed like a figure seen in early dawn.
At this the Princess wept bitterly, calling him by name, thinking she had seen
his ghost, but as he lifted the yech -cap more and more, and, growing
from a shadow to real flesh and blood, clasped her in his arms, her tears
changed to radiant smiles.