Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers Part 19

The man approached the chest, drew his sword with a trembling hand, and opened the snake with an anxious face. When, behold, he pulled out his child! He immediately ran with him from the palace, as he thought he discovered some slight traces of life in him. Then the priests fell on their knees before the King, and begged for pardon.

But the people, who were a.s.sembled in great crowds, cried, "Down with them! down with them!" and laid hands on them, as the King commanded them to be imprisoned.

The Princess now turned to the King, and said, "Let us release this unfortunate man: he has come as a stranger into our land, to whom you ought to have shown hospitality; instead of which you have imprisoned him as a criminal; you have mocked and jeered him, whilst, by your oath, you should have allowed him to quit your city free. Let what you have said in mockery of him be now reversed to his honour; for a King's word must not be blown away by the wind. This and no other shall be my husband."

The King commanded, and the prisoner was immediately freed. He bowed thankfully to the King and Princess. The King raised him, embraced him, called him his son, and led him to the Princess, saying,

"Let him be your husband: the solemnities of marriage shall be immediately prepared."

He caused his servants to proclaim through the city that the marriage of Princess Haschanascha was to be celebrated the next day, and all people were invited to a.s.semble before the palace and to feast there.

In his palace he pointed out to Jussuf a wing, in the apartments of which he for the future should dwell with his wife.

But the Princess said, "I will inhabit the apartments which I formerly dwelt in in this palace; for I only consider myself as his betrothed, till an imam of the religion which we both profess has p.r.o.nounced over us the marriage blessing."

The King did not oppose her, but said, "You may command all as it pleases you. Since yesterday, I have discovered that you possess more knowledge and wisdom than the rest of mankind."

The betrothal was celebrated with great splendour. The King, according to his former oath, showed Jussuf all honour, carried him to his different country seats, pointed out to him his gardens and lands, prepared many feasts, and did all to make his residence in his Court agreeable. The Princess accompanied them everywhere, and helped not a little to render these short journeys pleasing and satisfactory. She watched with great care for the convenience of her future husband, and sought to fulfil even his smallest wish before he had spoken it; so that Jussuf was often astonished, and said to himself, "She must read my thoughts before they arise." He felt that he was happy in everything except in her having a black complexion. One day they all went together to a beautiful neighbouring hunting-seat, in the environs of which a grand hunt was held. The Princess Haschanascha took part in it. She rode on a tame elephant, over whose back was thrown a cloth embroidered with gold. On the middle of its back a couch was skilfully fastened, and over this a canopy was raised on four slender pillars of gold. Jussuf remained generally near her during the hunt. He rode on a beautiful horse of the most n.o.ble race, which the King had sent him from his stable. Whenever he saw a curious bird or a wild beast, he aimed so well that the animal always fell pierced by his arrow. In the evening when they returned to the palace from the wood, Jussuf wished to remain there some days away from the bustle of the Court, and the King granted this wish. He left behind some servants to wait on him, and returned with his daughter to the capital.

At parting, Haschanascha appeared very sad, and Jussuf perceived tears in her eyes.

"I know," said she, "this stay will be unfortunate for me; you will forget me: even the talisman of your teacher Modibjah will fall into other hands, and on it depends my life. Might it be that this body--this hateful black veil of Haschanascha--should fall to pieces if it might conduce to your happiness. You will soon awake from a bright dream to longer and more bitter sorrows."

Jussuf consoled her, and represented that she troubled herself with useless fears. He took an affectionate farewell of her, and saw the procession depart not without emotion: he would willingly have accompanied her, but an irresistible feeling held him back. He went, as he was now quite alone, into the garden, which was adorned with curious flowers.

"Why was it," said he anxiously to himself, "that Haschanascha was to-day so mournful at parting? She is so prudent, and with her clear eyes foresees the events of life. Why can she fear that I should ever allow Modibjah's talisman to get into a stranger's hands when I always wear it?" With these words he pulled the little bag out, and said, "No, I will never separate from you unless you are taken by force. But can robbers be sheltered in this land?"

Whilst he asked himself these questions, he thought that it would be better not to carry it in his bosom, where it might easily be found if he were searched. He therefore wrapped it up carefully in the folds of his turban, and believed it to be quite safe.

Night had spread its veil over the garden, and he returned to the palace. Wonderful dreams disturbed his sleep, and their impressions accompanied him when he went into the garden the next morning. He had dreamt a great deal about red poppy-flowers, and now he saw them before him in the garden-beds. He found some alone in a bed, and while he watched them he again saw in fancy the same b.u.t.terfly that he had before seen in his own garden upon similar flowers, and the memory of the circ.u.mstances Of the last time were deeply graven in his soul.

Then he again dwelt upon the maiden to seek whom he had made this journey. Thus, amid these reflections, he took hold of the wooden box which he had received from the dervish in the subterraneous chambers in the ruined city near Shiraz.

"Without thee," said he, "could I never have obtained the object of my desires? And of what use have you been to me till to-day? You ought to lead me straight to my mark, and I should always be in the right way as long as I did not open the box with the golden key. You indeed have led me through dangers and misery, and at the end to a betrothal with a maiden as different from the one I sought as day from night. And shall I open you only when I have lost all hope to attain my desire?

Well, let us see what it contains."

With these words he pulled out the golden key and unlocked the box; but he let it fall to the earth with a joyous cry, for scarcely had he opened it when the curious b.u.t.terfly flew out, hovered in the sunshine over the flowers, and soon settled on one of the poppies. He quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed off his turban, and covered with it the b.u.t.terfly and the flowers. When he raised it, a figure was underneath, and before him stood his pleasant playfellow.

"Are you truly she? Do I really see you at last?" he cried, astonished.

"I am truly she," she answered. "Have you quite forgotten me, that you have allowed so long a time to elapse without asking after me? But what have you done with your turban? Let us see."

She took it from his head, sought in the folds, and pulled out the little bag with the talisman.

"Oh, oh!" cried she, returning his turban, "do you carry such things about with you? You will not want it any more: I will keep it." And she sprang forward.

He ran after her and caught her, begging her to return his pouch, explaining that it contained a talisman which had hitherto preserved him from every danger.

"Well," said she, when he paused, "and the only error is, that you have met with me again to-day."

She a.s.sured him that she would never return the talisman, and began many games with him as they had done in the garden at Balsora. At dinner-time he asked her to go into the palace to take some refreshment. She looked at him with a scornful laugh, and said, "I? Go under a roof--sit to table with you to partake of meats prepared from the flesh of animals and the flour of wheat? What can you mean? Do you not recollect the fig that we ate together? It still nourishes me; but I know that you need more."

She went to a neighbouring bush, plucked a white blossom, and offered it to him. "There, drink honey," said she.

When he took the flower, it changed into a silver-gilt goblet filled with delicious drink. He drank, and felt himself quite refreshed, strengthened, and satisfied. They again played many childish games together, and the maiden always invented new pastimes. The day pa.s.sed by, and Jussuf did not perceive how the hours flew away: the sun was just sinking; then his playfellow sprang over a neighbouring bush, and cried, "Good night."

As she pa.s.sed over the flowers of the bush, she disappeared from Jussuf's eyes, and he saw only the b.u.t.terfly flying. When he returned to the palace, his servants were much rejoiced. They had waited for him since noon, and had searched for him in the gardens, as an emba.s.sy had been sent from the capital to bring him news that the Princess had suddenly fallen ill. He caused the messengers to be brought before him, to learn from them all the attendant circ.u.mstances. He discovered from them that she had retired to rest early the preceding evening, and had risen quite well in the morning after a peaceful slumber; but hardly had the sun shone half an hour, when she fell, and was obliged to be carried to her apartments. She soon came to herself, but felt very weak, and informed her sorrowing father that she must die. Jussuf was very thoughtful, for he remembered her warning about the talisman, and also recollected that it was exactly the same hour in which the maiden had taken it from the folds of his turban. He resolved early the next morning to desire the talisman from her earnestly, and then to hasten to the city; and commanded the emba.s.sy to return at sunrise the next day, to announce his arrival in the evening. In the loneliness of night he felt angry with himself. But the loss of the talisman, which exceedingly disquieted him, was not the only reason: it was a mortifying feeling to him that he had pa.s.sed the whole day in childish sports, according to the caprice of his playfellow. He thought over all the words they had spoken, and found nothing in them but excessive frivolity.

He arose the next morning by daybreak, and at sunrise he again stood in the garden. Scarcely had the sun's rays dried the dew, when the beautiful b.u.t.terfly hovered over the beds. Once more it settled on a poppy. Jussuf covered it with his turban--the change was again completed--the maiden once more stood before him. He immediately demanded of her the little bag with the talisman.

She mocked him with a mischievous laugh, and said, "You shall not have it to-day: perhaps to-morrow, if you are polite."

Then they again began their sports, and Jussuf soon forgot in their amus.e.m.e.nts everything else, and played and sported with her. She gave him, in the same manner as yesterday, honey to drink from a flower, after she had sipped a little herself, and knew how to draw him round the gardens in her sports, so that n.o.body met them. On this day also his servants sought him in the garden, and could not find him; another messenger had arrived from the city, wishing to speak to him in great haste.

He did not return to the palace till she had flown away as a b.u.t.terfly. The messenger informed him that the Princess still remained very unwell, and that her weakness had materially increased when he did not arrive as he had promised. She had not said anything about this delay; but the King was very unhappy, and requested that he would come to the city the next day. He promised it, ordered the messenger to return at daybreak, and went into his sleeping-apartment.

There he again reproached himself as on the previous day, and resolved to set out on the morrow, as soon as his playmate should return the talisman. When he met her the next day in the garden, he immediately asked for it.

"How now, Jussuf?" said she. "What a tone! Is this the way to greet your frolicking playmate? Is it worth while to make such a fuss about a miserable fragment of stone?" She bowed to him, laughing, and ran off.

Jussuf followed, and when he got near her, cried, "It concerns the life of the Princess."

Then she stopped, and asked, "Is this the reason of your earnestness?

The Princess? The black negress? What binds you to her? Do you consider her as a creature like yourself? And, even if it were so, what can such a tiresome serious person be to you? Have you ever played with her an hour so merrily as we have played the whole day?

And, believe me, my stock is not yet nearly exhausted. I have novelties every day."

She again began a game, and, before Jussuf could recollect himself, he had deeply entered into it; and he had soon forgotten the messenger, his intentions, and his resolutions. He played with her till evening, and returned to the palace when she had disappeared as usual. He had been sought for as on the former days, but in vain. A fresh messenger had brought still worse tidings of Haschanascha's health, and he made the bitterest reproaches to himself for his neglect. He ordered his horse to be saddled, and, as it was a moonlight night, he returned to the city with the messenger. At his arrival, he saw the windows of the apartment inhabited by his betrothed still illuminated. He immediately went in and inquired after her health: people shrugged their shoulders, and he hastened to go in to her. She lay, breathing faintly, on her pillow, and beckoned to him to draw near: she then motioned to the servants, who left the apartment. He threw himself on his knees by the couch and wept, mourned her affliction, and regretted that he had not paid more attention to her warnings.

"I know how it has happened," she said; "still, the worst has not happened. You have been forced to leave the talisman in her hands: take care that she does not keep it with your consent. I am now weak and ill: I shall become still weaker; but so long as you possess the earnest wish to recover the talisman, my life will be preserved.

Return, now, whence you came, and let not the King see you. He is angry with you because he is sure you are the cause of my illness."

He obeyed her will, and returned to the hunting-seat by daybreak. He would not lose the vivid recollection of Haschanascha's mournful condition by going to sleep; but went immediately into the garden, and when the sun had sufficient influence to dry the dew on the flowers, he again saw the b.u.t.terfly settle on a poppy. This time he kept his turban on his head, and tried to catch the b.u.t.terfly with his hand; but it eluded him, and a wasp within the same flower stung his hand, so that it swelled very much. The b.u.t.terfly flew away, and did not return to the garden. The hours pa.s.sed very slowly, and would have seemed longer if his mind had not been agitated by various plans to recover the talisman. To do this, he must find its present possessor, and he reproached himself with having allowed the b.u.t.terfly to escape by his awkwardness. At noon he returned to the palace, to the great astonishment of his servants, who were now accustomed not to see him all day. When he had eaten, he reposed a few hours on his couch, and, on his awaking, a messenger had come from the city with the news that the Princess was better since the morning. Thus the day concluded with more inward peace than heretofore: only one fear made him sad, that perhaps the b.u.t.terfly had disappeared for ever from the garden, and then he could never recover his talisman.

But the next morning, when he went into the garden, he found the b.u.t.terfly perched on a poppy in the sunshine. He threw his turban over it, and again the maiden stood before him. He asked her why she had not come the previous day, and she answered,

"Oh, there was a clumsy peasant in the garden who tried to catch me in his hand, like an ugly fly! He would have rubbed the beautiful dust off my wings; and then, what would have become of my beauty? I could not allow it, for my clothing is beautiful." She laughed so maliciously, that he well knew who she meant by the clumsy peasant.

Before he could reply, she had engaged him in a new game, and then in another, and so on, that he could find no opportunity to demand the talisman. Even so pa.s.sed the next and some following days. Messengers arrived daily from the city to bring news of the Princess's health.

But these news were not comforting: the invalid grew worse from day to day, and the whole company of physicians knew no name for the disease, nor could they apply a remedy. If the priests were to be believed, this long and extraordinary sickness was a consequence of killing the sacred snake, and a punishment from heaven. Scarcely had this conclusion reached the King's ear, than it found credence in his weak mind. He caused the still imprisoned high priest to be called before him, and he advised that the priests should be immediately set at liberty, and reinstated in their former rank. It was proclaimed through the city that sacrifices and gifts should be offered, and that all the people were to return to the worship of the snake. The priests gave it out that they had found a similar snake, and Jussuf was again destined for the princ.i.p.al sacrifice, as the Princess lay so near death that she scarcely breathed or gave any sign of life. Jussuf had, in the meanwhile, pa.s.sed many days in play; and, although he daily received tidings of the Princess, he was ignorant of everything else that pa.s.sed in the capital. On one of the last days, he proposed to his playfellow that she should be his wife, and go home with him.

But she laughed, and said, "Are you not already betrothed to Haschanascha? Did you think I did not know it? I also know that you have dared this with many women. You have turned your house into a seraglio, as birds are kept in a cage. How hateful must such a life be! Shall I allow myself to be bound for life by the speaking of a h.o.a.ry imam? Heaven forbid it!" She began to jump and dance before Jussuf, while she sang:

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"A happy life, a roving wing, A sprightly dance, a voice to sing, To sport 'mid flowers and crowns of spring, Such, such be the life for me.

No care to-day, no toil the morrow, Ever sunshine, never sorrow: I sip and quaff the honied wine With my rosy lips divine.

Fearless I stray, whate'er my will, Seeking pleasure, pleasure still.

Such, such be the life for me: Who aims at more, a fool is he."

When she had finished her song, she bowed before Jussuf in a mocking mood, and said,

"How does that please you, Jussuf? Why, you are making a face as if you had drunk poison. What thoughts are now pa.s.sing through your head?"