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C. F. F |
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BULBUL once lived in a forest, and sang all
day to her mate, till one morning she said, 'Oh, dearest husband! you sing beautifully,
but I should so like some nice green pepper to eat!'
The
obedient bulbul at once flew off to find some, but though he flew for miles,
peeping into every garden by the way, he could not discover a single green
pepper. Either there was no fruit at all on the bushes, but only tiny white
star-flowers, or the peppers were all ripe, and crimson red.
At
last, right out in the wilderness, he came upon a high-walled garden. Tall
mango-trees shaded it on all sides, shutting out fierce sunshine and rough
winds, and within grew innumerable flowers and fruits. But there was no sign of
life within its walls–no birds, no butterflies, only silence and a perfume of
flowers.
The
bulbul alighted in the middle of the garden, and, lo! there grew a solitary
pepper plant, and amid the polished leaves shone a single green fruit of
immense size, gleaming like an emerald.
Greatly
delighted, the bird flew home to his mate, and telling her he had found the
most beautiful green pepper in the world, brought her back with him to the
garden, where she at once began to eat the delicious morsel.
Now
the Jinn to whom the garden belonged had all this time been asleep in a
summer-house; and as he generally kept awake for twelve whole years, and then
slept for another twelve years, he was of course very sound asleep, and knew
nothing of the bulbul's coming and going. Nevertheless, as the time of his
awaking was not far off, he had dreadful nightmares whilst the green pepper was
being pecked to pieces, and, becoming restless, awoke just when the bulbul's
wife, after laying one glittering emerald-green egg beneath the pepper plant,
flew away with her husband.
As
usual, the Jinn, after yawning and stretching, went to see how his pet pepper was
getting on. Great was his sorrow and rage at finding it pecked to pieces. He
could not imagine what had done the mischief, knowing as he did that neither
bird, beast, nor insect lived in the garden.
'Some
dreadful creeping thing from that horrid world outside must have stolen in,
whilst I slept,' said the Jinn to himself, and immediately began to search for
the intruder. He found nothing, however, but the glittering green egg, with
which he was so much astonished that he took it to his summer-house, wrapped it
up in cotton-wool, and put it away carefully in a carved niche in the wall.
Every day he went and looked at it, sighing over the thought for his lost
pepper, until one morning, lo and behold! the egg had disappeared, and it its
place sat the loveliest little maiden, dressed from head to foot in
emerald-green, while round her neck hung a single emerald of great size, shaped
just like the green pepper.
The
Jinn, who was a quiet, inoffensive creature, was delighted, for he loved
children, and this one was the daintiest little morsel ever beheld. So he made
it the business of his life to tend Princess Pepperina, for such the maiden
informed him was her name.
Now,
when twelve years had passed by in the flowery garden, it became time for the
good-natured Jinn to go to sleep again; and it puzzled him very much to think
what would become of his Princess when he was no longer able to take care of
her. But it so happened that a great King and his Minister, while hunting in
the forest, came upon the high-walled garden, and being curious to see what was
inside, they climbed over the wall, and found the lovely Princess Pepperina
seated by the pepper plant.
The
King immediately fell in love with her, and in the most elegant language begged
her to be his wife. But the Princess hung down her head modestly, saying, 'Not
so!–you must ask the Jinn who owns this garden; only he has an unfortunate
habit of eating men sometimes.'
Nevertheless,
when she saw the young King kneeling before her, she could not help thinking him
the handsomest and most splendid young man in the world, so her heart softened,
and when she heard the Jinn's footstep, she cried, 'Hide yourself in the
garden, and I will see if I can persuade my guardian to listen to you.'
Now,
no sooner had the Jinn appeared, than he began to sniff about, and cry 'Fee!
fa! fum! I smell the blood of a man!'
Then
the Princess Pepperina soothed him, saying, 'Dear Jinn! you may eat me
if you like, for there is no one else here.'
And
the Jinn replied, kissing and caressing her the while, 'My dearest life! I
would sooner eat bricks and mortar!'
After
that the Princess cunningly led the conversation to the Jinn's approaching
slumbers, and wondered tearfully what she should do alone in the walled garden.
At this the good-hearted Jinn became greatly troubled, until at last he
declared that the best plan would be to marry her to some young nobleman, but,
he added, a worthy husband was hard to find, especially as it was necessary he
should be as handsome, as a man, as Princess Pepperina was beautiful amongst
women. Hearing this, the Princess seized her opportunity, and asked the Jinn if
he would promise to let her marry any one who was as beautiful as she was. The
Jinn promised faithfully, little thinking the Princess already had her eye on
such a one, and was immensely astonished when she clapped her hands, and the
splendid young King appeared from a thicket. Nevertheless, when the young
couple stood together hand in hand, even the Jinn was obliged to own that such
a handsome pair had never before been seen; so he gave his consent to their
marriage, which was performed in ever so great a hurry, for already the Jinn
had begun to nod and yawn. Still, when it came to saying good-bye to his dear
little Princess, he wept so much that the tears kept him awake, and he followed
her in his thoughts, until the desire to see her face once more became so
strong that he changed himself into a dove, which flying after her, fluttered
above her head. She seemed quite happy, talking and whispering to her handsome
husband, so he flew home again to sleep. But the green mantle of his dear
little princess kept floating before his eyes, so that he could not rest, and
changing himself into a hawk, he sped after her, circling far above her head.
She was smiling by her husband's side, so the Jinn flew home to his garden,
yawning terribly. But the soft eyes of his dear little Pepperina seemed to look
into his driving sleep far from them; so he changed into an eagle, and soaring
far up into the blue sky, saw with his bright piercing gaze the Princess
entering a King's palace far away on the horizon. Then the good Jinn was
satisfied, and fell fast asleep.
Now
during the years which followed, the young King remained passionately in love
with his beautiful bride, but the other women in the palace were very jealous
of her, especially after she gave birth to the most lovely young Prince
imaginable. They determined to compass her ruin, and spent hours in thinking
how they might kill her, or lay a snare for her.
Every
night they would come to the door of the Queen's room, and whisper, to see if
she was awake, 'The Princess Pepperina is awake, but all the world is fast
asleep.'
Now
the emerald, which the young Queen still wore round her neck, was a real
talisman, and always told the truth; if any one even whispered a story, it just
up and out with the truth at once, and shamed the culprit without
remorse. So the emerald on these occasions would answer, 'Not so! the Princess
Pepperina is asleep. It is the world that wakes.'
Then
the wicked women would shrink away, for they knew they had no power to harm the
Princess while the talisman was round her neck.
At
last it so happened that when the young Queen was bathing she took off the
emerald talisman, and left it by mistake in the bathing-place. So that night,
when the jealous women as usual came whispering round the door, 'The Princess
Pepperina is awake, but all the world sleeps,' the truthful talisman called out
from the bathing-place, 'Not so! the Princess Pepperina sleeps. It is the world
that wakes.'
Knowing
by the sound of the talisman's voice that it was not in its usual place, these
wicked creatures stole into the room gently, killed the infant Prince, who was
peacefully sleeping in his little crib, cut him into little bits, laid them in
his mother's bed, and gently stained her lips with the blood.
Early
next morning they flew to the King, weeping and wailing, bidding him come and
see the horrible sight.
'Look!'
said they, 'the beautiful wife you loved so much is an ogress! We warned you
against her, and now she has killed her child in order to eat its flesh!'
The
King was terribly grieved and wroth, for he loved his wife, and yet could not
deny she was an ogress; so he ordered her to be whipped out of his kingdom and
then slain.
So
the lovely tender fair young Queen was scourged out of the land, and then
cruelly murdered, whilst the wicked jealous women rejoiced at their evil
success.
But
when Princess Pepperina died, her body became a high white marble wall, her
eyes turned into liquid pools of water, her green mantle changed into stretches
of verdant grass, her long curling hair into lovely creepers and tendrils,
while her scarlet mouth and white teeth became a beautiful bed of roses and
narcissus. Then her soul took the form of a sheldrake[2] and its mate–those
loving birds which, like the turtle-dove, are always constant,–and floating on
the liquid pools, they mourned all day long the sad fate of the Princess
Pepperina.
Now,
after many days, the young King, who, despite her supposed crime, could not
help bewailing his beautiful bride, went out a-hunting, and finding no game,
wandered far afield, until he came to the high white marble wall. Curious to
see what it enclosed, he climbed over on to the verdant grass, where the
tendrils waved softly, the roses and narcissus blossomed, and the loving birds,
floated on the liquid pools mourning all day long.
The
King, weary and sad, lay down to rest in the lovely spot, and listened to the
cry of the birds, and as he listened, the meaning seemed to grow plain, so that
he heard them tell the whole story of the wicked women's treachery.
Then
the one bird said, weeping, to the other, 'Can she never become alive again?'
And the other answered, 'If the King were to catch us, and hold us close, heart
to heart, while he severed our heads from our bodies with one blow of his
sword, so that neither of us should die before the other, the Princess
Pepperina would become alive once more. But if one dies before the other, she
will always remain as she is!'
Then
the King, with a beating heart, called the birds to him, and they came quite
readily, standing heart to heart while he cut off their heads with one blow of
his sword, so that they fell dead at the self-same moment.
At
the very same instant the Princess Pepperina appeared, smiling, more beautiful
than ever; but, strange to say, the liquid pools, the grass, the climbing
tendrils, and the flowers remained as they were.
Then
the King besought her to return home with him, vowing he would never again
distrust her, and would put all the wicked traitors to death; but she refused,
saying she would prefer to live always within the high white marble walls,
where no one could molest her.
'Just
so!' cried the Jinn, who, having but that moment awakened from his twelve
years' sleep, had flown straight to his dearest Princess. 'Here you shall live,
and I will live with you!'
Then he built the King
and Queen a magnificent palace, where they lived very happily ever after; and
as no one knew anything about it, no one was jealous of the beautiful Princess
Pepperina.
[1] In the original Shâhzâdî Mirchâ or Filfil Shâhzâdî: mirch is the Capsicum annuum or common chilli, green and red.
[2] The chakwâ, male, and chakwî,
female, is the ruddy goose or sheldrake, known to Europeans as the
Brâhmanî duck, Anas casarca or Casarca rutila. It is
found all over India in the winter, and its plaintive night cry has given rise
to a very pretty legend. Two lovers are said to have been for some indiscretion
turned into Brâhmanî ducks, and condemned to pass the night apart
from each other, on the opposite sides of a river. All night long each asks the
other in turn if it shall join its mate, and the answer is always 'no.' The
words supposed to be said are
Chakwâ
main âwân ? Nâ, Chakwî!
Chakwî, main âwân ? Nâ, Chakwâ!
Chakwâ,
shall I come? No, Chakwî!
Chakwî, shall I come? No, Chakwâ!