`Now, villain, you are in my power!’ cried the Witch-maiden. `I favoured you with my love, and you repaid me with treachery and theft. You stole my most precious jewel from me, and do you expect to live happily as the King’s son-in-law? Now the tables are turned; you are in my power, and I will be revenged on you for your crimes.’
`Forgive me! forgive me!’ cried the Prince; `I know too well how deeply I have wronged you, and most heartily do I repent it.’
The maiden answered, `Your prayers and your repentance come too late, and if I were to spare you everyone would think me a fool. You have doubly wronged me; first you scorned my love, and then you stole my ring, and you must bear the punishment.
With these words she put the ring upon her left thumb, lifted the young man with one hand, and walked away with him under her arm. This time she did not take him to a splendid palace, but to a deep cave in a rock, where there were chains hanging from the wall. The maiden now chained the young man’s hands and feet so that he could not escape; then she said in an angry voice, `Here you shall remain chained up until you die. I will bring you every day enough food to prevent you dying of hunger, but you need never hope for freedom any more.’ With these words she left him.
The old King and his daughter waited anxiously for many weeks for the Prince’s return, but no news of him arrived. The King’s daughter often dreamed that her husband was going through some great suffering: she therefore begged her father to summon all the enchanters and magicians, that they might try to find out where the Prince was and how he could be set free. But the magicians, with all their arts, could find out nothing, except that he was still living and undergoing great suffering; but none could tell where he was to be found. At last a celebrated magician from Finland was brought before the King, who had found out that the King’s son-in-law was imprisoned in the East, not by men, but by some more powerful being. The King now sent messengers to the East to look for his son-in-law, and they by good luck met with the old magician who had interpreted the signs on King Solomon’s ring, and thus was possessed of more wisdom than anyone else in the world. The magician soon found out what he wished to know, and pointed out the place where the Prince was imprisoned, but said: `He is kept there by enchantment, and cannot be set free without my help. I will therefore go with you myself.’
So they all set out, guided by birds, and after some days came to the cave where the unfortunate Prince had been chained up for nearly seven years. He recognised the magician immediately, but the old man did not know him, he had grown so thin. However, he undid the chains by the help of magic, and took care of the Prince until he recovered and became strong enough to travel. When he reached home he found that the old King had died that morning, so that he was now raised to the throne. And now after his long suffering came prosperity, which lasted to the end of his life; but he never got back the magic ring, nor has it ever again been seen by mortal eyes.
Now, if you had been the Prince, would you not rather have stayed with the pretty witch-maiden?
[2] `Der Norlands Drache,’ from Esthnische Mährchen. Kreutzwald, [3] Höllenmädchen,
STORY OF THE EMPEROR’S NEW CLOTHES [4]
MANY years ago there lived an Emperor who was so fond of new clothes that he spent all his money on them in order to be beautifully dressed. He did not care about his soldiers, he did not care about the theatre; he only liked to go out walking to show off his new clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day; and just as they say of a king, `He is in the council-chamber,’ they always said here, `The Emperor is in the wardrobe.’
In the great city in which he lived there was always something going on; every day many strangers came there. One day two impostors arrived who gave themselves out as weavers, and said that they knew how to manufacture the most beautiful cloth imaginable. Not only were the texture and pattern uncommonly beautiful, but the clothes which were made of the stuff possessed this wonderful property that they were invisible to anyone who was not fit for his office, or who was unpardonably stupid.
`Those must indeed be splendid clothes,’ thought the Emperor. `If I had them on I could find out which men in my kingdom are unfit for the offices they hold; I could distinguish the wise from the stupid! Yes, this cloth must be woven for me at once.’ And he gave both the impostors much money, so that they might begin their work.
They placed two weaving-looms, and began to do as if they were working, but they had not the least thing on the looms. They also demanded the finest silk and the best gold, which they put in their pockets, and worked at the empty looms till late into the night.
`I should like very much to know how far they have got on with the cloth,’ thought the Emperor. But he remembered when he thought about it that whoever was stupid or not fit for his office would not be able to see it. Now he certainly believed that he had nothing to fear for himself, but he wanted first to send somebody else in order to see how he stood with regard to his office. Everybody in the whole town knew what a wonderful power the cloth had, and they were all curious to see how bad or how stupid their neighbour was.
`I will send my old and honoured minister to the weavers,’ thought the Emperor. `He can judge best what the cloth is like, for he has intellect, and no one understands his office better than he.’
Now the good old minister went into the hall where the two impostors sat working at the empty weaving-looms. `Dear me!’ thought the old minister, opening his eyes wide, `I can see nothing!’ But he did not say so.
Both the impostors begged him to be so kind as to step closer, and asked him if it were not a beautiful texture and lovely colours. They pointed to the empty loom, and the poor old minister went forward rubbing his eyes; but he could see nothing, for there was nothing there.
`Dear, dear!’ thought he, `can I be stupid? I have never thought that, and nobody must know it! Can I be not fit for my office? No, I must certainly not say that I cannot see the cloth!’
`Have you nothing to say about it?’ asked one of the men who was weaving.
`Oh, it is lovely, most lovely!’ answered the old minister, looking through his spectacles. `What a texture! What colours! Yes, I will tell the Emperor that it pleases me very much.’
`Now we are delighted at that,’ said both the weavers, and thereupon they named the colours and explained the make of the texture.
The old minister paid great attention, so that he could tell the same to the Emperor when he came back to him, which he did.
The impostors now wanted more money, more silk, and more gold to use in their weaving. They put it all in their own pockets, and there came no threads on the loom, but they went on as they had done before, working at the empty loom. The Emperor soon sent another worthy statesman to see how the weaving was getting on, and whether the cloth would soon be finished. It was the same with him as the first one; he looked and looked, but because there was nothing on the empty loom he could see nothing.
`Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?’ asked the two impostors, and they pointed to and described the splendid material which was not there.
Stupid I am not!’ thought the man, `so it must be my good office for which I am not fitted. It is strange, certainly, but no one must be allowed to notice it.’ And so he praised the cloth which he did not see, and expressed to them his delight at the beautiful colours and the splendid texture. `Yes, it is quite beautiful,’ he said to the Emperor.
Everybody in the town was talking of the magnificent cloth.
Now the Emperor wanted to see it himself while it was still on the loom. With a great crowd of select followers, amongst whom were both the worthy statesmen who had already been there before, he went to the cunning impostors, who were now weaving with all their might, but without fibre or thread.