Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 08 (4 page)

As soon as the king was dressed the shepherd was again brought
before him; but he was more angry than ever to think the wild boars
had not torn the man to bits, and he said: 'Well, you have learned
what it feels to be near ten deaths, now say "To my good health!"'

But the shepherd broke in with, 'I do not fear a hundred deaths, and
I will only say it if I may have the princess for my wife.'

'Then go to a hundred deaths!' roared the king, and ordered the
shepherd to be thrown down the deep vault of scythes.

The guards dragged him away to a dark dungeon, in the middle of
which was a deep well with sharp scythes all round it. At the
bottom of the well was a little light by which one could see if
anyone was thrown in whether he had fallen to the bottom.

When the shepherd was dragged to the dungeons he begged the
guards to leave him alone a little while that he might look down
into the pit of scythes; perhaps he might after all make up his mind
to say 'To your good health' to the king. So the guards left him
alone and he stuck up his long stick near the well, hung his cloak
round the stick and put his hat on the top. He also hung his
knapsack up inside the cloak so that it might seem to have some
body within it. When this was done he called out to the guards and
said that he had considered the matter but after all he could not
make up his mind to say what the king wished. The guards came
in, threw the hat and cloak, knapsack and stick all down the well
together, watched to see how they put out the light at the bottom
and came away, thinking that now there really was an end of the
shepherd. But he had hidden in a dark corner and was laughing to
himself all the time.

Quite early next morning came the Lord Chamberlain, carrying a
lamp and he nearly fell backwards with surprise when he saw the
shepherd alive and well. He brought him to the king, whose fury
was greater than ever, but who cried:

'Well, now you have been near a hundred deaths; will you say: "To
your good health"?'

But the shepherd only gave the same answer:

'I won't say it till the princess is my wife.'

'Perhaps after all you may do it for less,' said the king, who saw that
there was no chance of making away with the shepherd; and he
ordered the state coach to be got ready, then he made the shepherd
get in with him and sit beside him, and ordered the coachman to
drive to the silver wood. When they reached it he said: 'Do you see
this silver wood? Well, if you will say, "To your good health," I
will give it to you.'

The shepherd turned hot and cold by turns, but he still persisted:

'I will not say it till the princess is my wife.'

The king was much vexed; he drove further on till they came to a
splendid castle, all of gold, and then he said:

'Do you see this golden castle? Well, I will give you that too, the
silver wood and the golden castle, if only you will say that one thing
to me: "To your good health."'

The shepherd gaped and wondered and was quite dazzled, but he
still said:

'No; I will not say it till I have the princess for my wife.'

This time the king was overwhelmed with grief, and gave orders to
drive on to the diamond pond, and there he tried once more.

'Do you see this diamond pond? I will give you that too, the silver
wood and the golden castle and the diamond pond. You shall have
them all—all—if you will but say: "To your good health!"'

The shepherd had to shut his staring eyes tight not to be dazzled
with the brilliant pond, but still he said:

'No, no; I will not say it till I have the princess for my wife.'

Then the king saw that all his efforts were useless, and that he
might as well give in, so he said:

'Well, well, it's all the same to me—I will give you my daughter to
wife; but, then, you really and truly must say to me: "To your good
health."'

'Of course I'll say it; why should I not say it? It stands to reason
that I shall say it then.'

At this the king was more delighted than anyone could have
believed. He made it known all through the country that there were
to be great rejoicings, as the princess was going to be married. And
everyone rejoiced to think that the princess, who had refused so
many royal suitors, should have ended by falling in love with the
staring-eyed shepherd.

There was such a wedding as had never been seen. Everyone ate
and drank and danced. Even the sick were feasted, and quite tiny
new-born children had presents given them.

But the greatest merry-making was in the king's palace; there the
best bands played and the best food was cooked; a crowd of people
sat down to table, and all was fun and merry-making.

And when the groomsman, according to custom, brought in the
great boar's head on a big dish and placed it before the king so that
he might carve it and give everyone a share, the savoury smell was
so strong that the king began to sneeze with all his might.

'To your very good health,' cried the shepherd before anyone else,
and the king was so delighted that he did not regret having given
him his daughter.

In time, when the old king died, the shepherd succeeded him. He
made a very good king and never expected his people to wish him
well against their wills; but, all the same, everyone did wish him
well, for they all loved him.

(From Russische Mahrchen.)

Far, far away, beyond all sorts of countries, seas and rivers, there
stood a splendid city where lived King Archidej, who was as good
as he was rich and handsome. His great army was made up of men
ready to obey his slightest wish; he owned forty times forty cities,
and in each city he had ten palaces with silver doors, golden roofs,
and crystal windows. His council consisted of the twelve wisest
men in the country, whose long beards flowed down over their
breasts, each of whom was as learned as a whole college. This
council always told the king the exact truth.

Now the king had everything to make him happy, but he did not
enjoy anything because he could not find a bride to his mind.

One day, as he sat in his palace looking out to sea, a great ship
sailed into the harbour and several merchants came on shore. Said
the king to himself: 'These people have travelled far and beheld
many lands. I will ask them if they have seen any princess who is as
clever and as handsome as I am.'

So he ordered the merchants to be brought before him, and when
they came he said: 'You have travelled much and visited many
wonders. I wish to ask you a question, and I beg you to answer
truthfully.

'Have you anywhere seen or heard of the daughter of an emperor,
king, or a prince, who is as clever and as handsome as I am, and
who would be worthy to be my wife and the queen of my country?'

The merchants considered for some time. At last the eldest of them
said: 'I have heard that across many seas, in the Island of Busan,
there is a mighty king, whose daughter, the Princess Helena, is so
lovely that she can certainly not be plainer than your Majesty, and
so clever that the wisest greybeard cannot guess her riddles.'

'Is the island far off, and which is the way to it?'

'It is not near,' was the answer. 'The journey would take ten years,
and we do not know the way. And even if we did, what use would
that be? The princess is no bride for you.'

'How dare you say so?' cried the king angrily.

'Your Majesty must pardon us; but just think for a moment. Should
you send an envoy to the island he will take ten years to get there
and ten more to return—twenty years in all. Will not the princess
have grown old in that time and have lost all her beauty?'

The king reflected gravely. Then he thanked the merchants, gave
them leave to trade in his country without paying any duties, and
dismissed them.

After they were gone the king remained deep in thought. He felt
puzzled and anxious; so he decided to ride into the country to
distract his mind, and sent for his huntsmen and falconers. The
huntsmen blew their horns, the falconers took their hawks on their
wrists, and off they all set out across country till they came to a
green hedge. On the other side of the hedge stretched a great field
of maize as far as the eye could reach, and the yellow ears swayed
to and fro in the gentle breeze like a rippling sea of gold.

The king drew rein and admired the field. 'Upon my word,' said he,
'whoever dug and planted it must be good workmen. If all the
fields in my kingdom were as well cared for as this, there would be
more bread than my people could eat.' And he wished to know to
whom the field belonged.

Off rushed all his followers at once to do his bidding, and found a
nice, tidy farmhouse, in front of which sat seven peasants, lunching
on rye bread and drinking water. They wore red shirts bound with
gold braid, and were so much alike that one could hardly tell one
from another.

The messengers asked: 'Who owns this field of golden maize?' And
the seven brothers answered: 'The field is ours.'

'And who are you?'

'We are King Archidej's labourers.'

These answers were repeated to the king, who ordered the brothers
to be brought before him at once. On being asked who they were,
the eldest said, bowing low:

'We, King Archidej, are your labourers, children of one father and
mother, and we all have the same name, for each of us is called
Simon. Our father taught us to be true to our king, and to till the
ground, and to be kind to our neighbours. He also taught each of
us a different trade which he thought might be useful to us, and he
bade us not neglect our mother earth, which would be sure amply
to repay our labour.'

The king was pleased with the honest peasant, and said: 'You have
done well, good people, in planting your field, and now you have a
golden harvest. But I should like each of you to tell me what
special trades your father taught you.'

'My trade, O king!' said the first Simon, 'is not an easy one. If you
will give me some workmen and materials I will build you a great
white pillar that shall reach far above the clouds.'

'Very good,' replied the king. 'And you, Simon the second, what is
your trade?'

'Mine, your Majesty, needs no great cleverness. When my brother
has built the pillar I can mount it, and from the top, far above the
clouds, I can see what is happening: in every country under the sun.'

'Good,' said the king; 'and Simon the third?'

'My work is very simple, sire. You have many ships built by
learned men, with all sorts of new and clever improvements. If you
wish it I will build you quite a simple boat—one, two, three, and it's
done! But my plain little home-made ship is not grand enough for a
king. Where other ships take a year, mine makes the voyage in a
day, and where they would require ten years mine will do the
distance in a week.'

'Good,' said the king again; 'and what has Simon the fourth learnt?'

'My trade, O king, is really of no importance. Should my brother
build you a ship, then let me embark in it. If we should be pursued
by an enemy I can seize our boat by the prow and sink it to the
bottom of the sea. When the enemy has sailed off, I can draw it up
to the top again.'

'That is very clever of you,' answered the king; 'and what does
Simon the fifth do?'

'My work, your Majesty, is mere smith's work. Order me to build a
smithy and I will make you a cross-bow, but from which neither the
eagle in the sky nor the wild beast in the forest is safe. The bolt hits
whatever the eye sees.'

'That sounds very useful,' said the king. 'And now, Simon the sixth,
tell me your trade.'

'Sire, it is so simple I am almost ashamed to mention it. If my
brother hits any creature I catch it quicker than any dog can. If it
falls into the water I pick it up out of the greatest depths, and if it is
in a dark forest I can find it even at midnight.'

The king was much pleased with the trades and talk of the six
brothers, and said: 'Thank you, good people; your father did well
to teach you all these things. Now follow me to the town, as I want
to see what you can do. I need such people as you about me; but
when harvest time comes I will send you home with royal presents.'

The brothers bowed and said: 'As the king wills.' Suddenly the king
remembered that he had not questioned the seventh Simon, so he
turned to him and said: 'Why are you silent? What is your
handicraft?'

And the seventh Simon answered: 'I have no handicraft, O king; I
have learnt nothing. I could not manage it. And if I do know how
to do anything it is not what might properly be called a real trade—it
is rather a sort of performance; but it is one which no one—not the
king himself—must watch me doing, and I doubt whether this
performance of mine would please your Majesty.'

'Come, come,' cried the king; 'I will have no excuses, what is this
trade?'

'First, sire, give me your royal word that you will not kill me when I
have told you. Then you shall hear.'

'So be it, then; I give you my royal word.'

Then the seventh Simon stepped back a little, cleared his throat,
and said: 'My trade, King Archidej, is of such a kind that the man
who follows it in your kingdom generally loses his life and has no
hopes of pardon. There is only one thing I can do really well, and
that is—to steal, and to hide the smallest scrap of anything I have
stolen. Not the deepest vault, even if its lock were enchanted,
could prevent my stealing anything out of it that I wished to have.'

When the king heard this he fell into a passion. 'I will not pardon
you, you rascal,' he cried; 'I will shut you up in my deepest dungeon
on bread and water till you have forgotten such a trade. Indeed, it
would be better to put you to death at once, and I've a good mind
to do so.'