Well was it in truth said by the wise
man, “Do not say all you know, nor do all you
are able”; for both one and the other bring unknown
danger and unforeseen ruin; as you shall hear of a
certain slave (be it spoken with all reverence for
my lady the Princess), who, after doing all the injury
in her power to a poor girl, came off so badly in the
court, that she was the judge of her own crime, and
sentenced herself to the punishment she deserved.
The King of Long-Tower had once a
son, who was the apple of his eye, and on whom he
had built all his hopes; and he longed impatiently
for the time when he should find some good match for
him. But the Prince was so averse to marriage
and so obstinate that, whenever a wife was talked
of, he shook his head and wished himself a hundred
miles off; so that the poor King, finding his son
stubborn and perverse, and foreseeing that his race
would come to an end, was more vexed and melancholy,
cast down and out of spirits, than a merchant whose
correspondent has become bankrupt, or a peasant whose
ass has died. Neither could the tears of his
father move the Prince, nor the entreaties of the
courtiers soften him, nor the counsel of wise men
make him change his mind; in vain they set before his
eyes the wishes of his father, the wants of the people,
and his own interest, representing to him that he
was the full-stop in the line of the royal race; for
with the obstinacy of Carella and the stubbornness
of an old mule with a skin four fingers thick, he
had planted his foot resolutely, stopped his ears,
and closed his heart against all assaults. But
as frequently more comes to pass in an hour than in
a hundred years, and no one can say, Stop here or
go there, it happened that one day, when all were
at table, and the Prince was cutting a piece of new-made
cheese, whilst listening to the chit-chat that was
going on, he accidentally cut his finger; and two drops
of blood, falling upon the cheese, made such a beautiful
mixture of colours that either it was a
punishment inflicted by Love, or the will of Heaven
to console the poor father the whim seized
the Prince to find a woman exactly as white and red
as that cheese tinged with blood. Then he said
to his father, “Sir, unless I have a wife as
white and red as this cheese, it is all over with
me; so now resolve, if you wish to see me alive and
well, to give me all I require to go through the world
in search of a beauty exactly like this cheese, or
else I shall end my life and die by inches.”
When the King heard this mad resolution,
he thought the house was falling about his ears; his
colour came and went, but as soon as he recovered
himself and could speak, he said, “My son, the
life of my soul, the core of my heart, the prop of
my old age, what mad-brained fancy has made you take
leave of your senses? Have you lost your wits?
You want either all or nothing: first you wish
not to marry, on purpose to deprive me of an heir,
and now you are impatient to drive me out of the world.
Whither, O whither would you go wandering about, wasting
your life? And why leave your house, your hearth,
your home? You know not what toils and peril
he brings on himself who goes rambling and roving.
Let this whim pass, my son; be sensible, and do not
wish to see my life worn out, this house fall to the
ground, my household go to ruin.”
But these and other words went in
at one ear and out at the other, and were all cast
upon the sea; and the poor King, seeing that his son
was as immovable as a rook upon a belfry, gave him
a handful of dollars and two or three servants; and
bidding him farewell, he felt as if his soul was torn
out of his body. Then weeping bitterly, he went
to a balcony, and followed his son with his eyes until
he was lost to sight.
The Prince departed, leaving his unhappy
father to his grief, and hastened on his way through
fields and woods, over mountain and valley, hill and
plain, visiting various countries, and mixing with
various peoples, and always with his eyes wide awake
to see whether he could find the object of his desire.
At the end of several months he arrived at the coast
of France, where, leaving his servants at a hospital
with sore feet, he embarked alone in a Genoese boat,
and set out towards the Straits of Gibraltar.
There he took a larger vessel and sailed for the
Indies, seeking everywhere, from kingdom to kingdom,
from province to province, from country to country,
from street to street, from house to house, in every
hole and corner, whether he could find the original
likeness of that beautiful image which he had pictured
to his heart. And he wandered about and about
until at length he came to the Island of the Ogresses,
where he cast anchor and landed. There he found
an old, old woman, withered and shrivelled up, and
with a hideous face, to whom he related the reason
that had brought him to the country. The old
woman was beside herself with amazement when she heard
the strange whim and the fancy of the Prince, and
the toils and perils he had gone through to satisfy
himself; then she said to him, “Hasten away,
my son! for if my three daughters meet you I would
not give a farthing for your life; half-alive and
half-roasted, a frying-pan would be your bier and
a belly your grave. But away with you as fast
as a hare, and you will not go far before you find
what you are seeking!”
When the Prince heard this, frightened,
terrified, and aghast, he set off running at full
speed, and ran till he came to another country, where
he again met an old woman, more ugly even than the
first, to whom he told all his story. Then the
old woman said to him in like manner, “Away
with you! unless you wish to serve as a breakfast to
the little ogresses my daughters; but go straight
on, and you will soon find what you want.”
The Prince, hearing this, set off
running as fast as a dog with a kettle at its tail;
and he went on and on, until he met another old woman,
who was sitting upon a wheel, with a basket full of
little pies and sweetmeats on her arm, and feeding
a number of jackasses, which thereupon began leaping
about on the bank of a river and kicking at some poor
swans. When the Prince came up to the old woman,
after making a hundred salaams, he related to her
the story of his wanderings; whereupon the old woman,
comforting him with kind words, gave him such a good
breakfast that he licked his fingers after it.
And when he had done eating she gave him three citrons,
which seemed to be just fresh gathered from the tree;
and she gave him also a beautiful knife, saying, “You
are now free to return to Italy, for your labour is
ended, and you have what you were seeking. Go
your way, therefore, and when you are near your own
kingdom stop at the first fountain you come to and
cut a citron. Then a fairy will come forth from
it, and will say to you, ‘Give me to drink.’
Mind and be ready with the water or she will vanish
like quicksilver. But if you are not quick enough
with the second fairy, have your eyes open and be
watchful that the third does not escape you, giving
her quickly to drink, and you shall have a wife after
your own heart.”
The Prince, overjoyed, kissed the
old woman’s hairy hand a hundred times, which
seemed just like a hedgehog’s back. Then
taking his leave he left that country, and coming
to the seashore sailed for the Pillars of Hercules,
and arrived at our Sea, and after a thousand storms
and perils, he entered port a day’s distance
from his own kingdom. There he came to a most
beautiful grove, where the Shades formed a palace for
the Meadows, to prevent their being seen by the sun;
and dismounting at a fountain, which, with a crystal
tongue, was inviting the people to refresh their lips,
he seated himself on a Syrian carpet formed by the
plants and flowers. Then he drew his knife from
the sheath and began to cut the first citron, when
lo! there appeared like a flash of lightning a most
beautiful maiden, white as milk and red as a strawberry,
who said, “Give me to drink!” The Prince
was so amazed, bewildered, and captivated with the
beauty of the fairy that he did not give her the water
quick enough, so she appeared and vanished at one and
the same moment. Whether this was a rap on the
Prince’s head, let any one judge who, after
longing for a thing, gets it into his hands and instantly
loses it again.
Then the Prince cut the second citron,
and the same thing happened again; and this was a
second blow he got on his pate; so making two little
fountains of his eyes, he wept, face to face, tear
for tear, drop for drop, with the fountain, and sighing
he exclaimed, “Good heavens, how is it that
I am so unfortunate? Twice I have let her escape,
as if my hands were tied; and here I sit like a rock,
when I ought to run like a greyhound. Faith indeed
I have made a fine hand of it! But courage, man!
there is still another, and three is the lucky number;
either this knife shall give me the fay, or it shall
take my life away.” So saying he cut the
third citron, and forth came the third fairy, who
said like the others, “Give me to drink.”
Then the Prince instantly handed her the water; and
behold there stood before him a delicate maiden, white
as a junket with red streaks, a thing never
before seen in the world, with a beauty beyond compare,
a fairness beyond the beyonds, a grace more than the
most. On that hair Jove had showered down gold,
of which Love made his shafts to pierce all hearts;
that face the god of Love had tinged with red, that
some innocent soul should be hung on the gallows of
desire; at those eyes the sun had lighted two fireworks,
to set fire to the rockets of sighs in the breast
of the beholder; to the roses on those lips Venus had
given their colour, to wound a thousand enamoured
hearts with their thorns. In a word, she was
so beautiful from head to foot, that a more exquisite
creature was never seen. The Prince knew not what
had happened to him, and stood lost in amazement,
gazing on such a beautiful offspring of a citron;
and he said to himself, “Are you asleep or awake,
Ciommetiello? Are your eyes bewitched, or are
you blind? What fair white creature is this come
forth from a yellow rind? What sweet fruit, from
the sour juice of a citron? What lovely maiden
sprung from a citron-pip?”
At length, seeing that it was all
true and no dream, he embraced the fairy, giving her
a hundred and a hundred kisses; and after a thousand
tender words had passed between them words
which, as a setting, had an accompaniment of sugared
kisses the Prince said, “My soul,
I cannot take you to my father’s kingdom without
handsome raiment worthy of so beautiful a person,
and an attendance befitting a Queen; therefore climb
up into this oak-tree, where Nature seems purposely
to have made for us a hiding-place in the form of
a little room, and here await my return; for I will
come back on wings, before a tear can be dry, with
dresses and servants, and carry you off to my kingdom.”
So saying, after the usual ceremonies, he departed.
Now a black slave, who was sent by
her mistress with a pitcher to fetch water, came to
the well, and seeing by chance the reflection of the
fairy in the water, she thought it was herself, and
exclaimed in amazement, “Poor Lucia, what do
I see? Me so pretty and fair, and mistress send
me here. No, me will no longer bear.”
So saying she broke the pitcher and returned home;
and when her mistress asked her, “Why have you
done this mischief?” she replied, “Me go
to the well alone, pitcher break upon a stone.”
Her mistress swallowed this idle story, and the next
day she gave her a pretty little cask, telling her
to go and fill it with water. So the slave returned
to the fountain, and seeing again the beautiful image
reflected in the water, she said with a deep sigh,
“Me no ugly slave, me no broad-foot goose, but
pretty and fine as mistress mine, and me not go to
the fountain!” So saying, smash again! she broke
the cask into seventy pieces, and returned grumbling
home, and said to her mistress, “Ass come past,
tub fell down at the well, and all was broken in pieces.”
The poor mistress, on hearing this, could contain
herself no longer, and seizing a broomstick she beat
the slave so soundly that she felt it for many days;
then giving her a leather bag, she said, “Run,
break your neck, you wretched slave, you grasshopper-legs,
you black beetle! Run and fetch me this bag full
of water, or else I’ll hang you like a dog, and
give you a good thrashing.”
Away ran the slave heels over head,
for she had seen the flash and dreaded the thunder;
and while she was filling the leather bag, she turned
to look again at the beautiful image, and said, “Me
fool to fetch water! better live by one’s wits;
such a pretty girl indeed to serve a bad mistress!”
So saying, she took a large pin which she wore in
her hair, and began to pick holes in the leather bag,
which looked like an open place in a garden with the
rose of a watering-pot making a hundred little fountains.
When the fairy saw this she laughed outright; and
the slave hearing her, turned and espied her hiding-place
up in the tree; whereat she said to herself, “O
ho! you make me be beaten? but never mind!”
Then she said to her, “What you doing up there,
pretty lass?” And the fairy, who was the very
mother of courtesy, told her all she knew, and all
that had passed with the Prince, whom she was expecting
from hour to hour and from moment to moment, with fine
dresses and servants, to take her with him to his father’s
kingdom where they would live happy together.
When the slave, who was full of spite,
heard this, she thought to herself that she would
get this prize into her own hands; so she answered
the fairy, “You expect your husband, me
come up and comb your locks, and make you more smart.”
And the fairy said, “Ay, welcome as the first
of May!” So the slave climbed up the tree, and
the fairy held out her white hand to her, which looked
in the black paws of the slave like a crystal mirror
in a frame of ebony. But no sooner did the slave
begin to comb the fairy’s locks, than she suddenly
stuck a hairpin into her head. Then the fairy,
feeling herself pricked, cried out, “Dove, dove!”
and instantly she became a dove and flew away; whereupon
the slave stripped herself, and making a bundle of
all the rags that she had worn, she threw them a mile
away; and there she sat, up in the tree, looking like
a statue of jet in a house of emerald.
In a short time the Prince returned
with a great cavalcade, and finding a cask of caviar
where he had left a pan of milk, he stood for awhile
beside himself with amazement. At length he said,
“Who has made this great blot of ink on the
fine paper upon which I thought to write the brightest
days of my life? Who has hung with mourning this
newly white-washed house, where I thought to spend
a happy life? How comes it that I find this touchstone,
where I left a mine of silver, that was to make me
rich and happy?” But the crafty slave, observing
the Prince’s amazement, said, “Do not
wonder, my Prince; for me turned by a wicked spell
from a white lily to a black coal.”
The poor Prince, seeing that there
was no help for the mischief, drooped his head and
swallowed this pill; and bidding the slave come down
from the tree, he ordered her to be clothed from head
to foot in new dresses. Then sad and sorrowful,
cast-down and woe-begone, he took his way back with
the slave to his own country, where the King and Queen,
who had gone out six miles to meet them, received them
with the same pleasure as a prisoner feels at the
announcement of a sentence of hanging, seeing the
fine choice their foolish son had made, who after
travelling about so long to find a white dove had brought
home at last a black crow. However, as they could
do no less, they gave up the crown to their children,
and placed the golden tripod upon that face of coal.
Now whilst they were preparing splendid
feasts and banquets, and the cooks were busy plucking
geese, killing little pigs, flaying kids, basting
the roast meat, skimming pots, mincing meat for dumplings,
larding capóns, and preparing a thousand other
delicacies, a beautiful dove came flying to the kitchen
window, and said,
“O cook of the
kitchen, tell me, I pray,
What the King and the
slave are doing to-day.”
The cook at first paid little heed
to the dove; but when she returned a second and a
third time, and repeated the same words, he ran to
the dining-hall to tell the marvellous thing.
But no sooner did the lady hear this music than she
gave orders for the dove to be instantly caught and
made into a hash. So the cook went, and he managed
to catch the dove, and did all that the slave had
commanded. And having scalded the bird in order
to pluck it, he threw the water with the feathers out
from a balcony on to a garden-bed, on which, before
three days had passed, there sprang up a beautiful
citron-tree, which quickly grew to its full size.
Now it happened that the King, going
by chance to a window that looked upon the garden,
saw the tree, which he had never observed before; and
calling the cook, he asked him when and by whom it
had been planted. No sooner had he heard all
the particulars from Master Pot-ladle, than he began
to suspect how matters stood. So he gave orders,
under pain of death, that the tree should not be touched,
but that it should be tended with the greatest care.
At the end of a few days three most
beautiful citrons appeared, similar to those
which the ogress had given Ciommetiello. And when
they were grown larger, he plucked them; and shutting
himself up in a chamber, with a large basin of water
and the knife, which he always carried at his side,
he began to cut the citrons. Then it all
fell out with the first and second fairy just as it
had done before; but when at last he cut the third
citron, and gave the fairy who came forth from it to
drink, behold, there stood before him the self-same
maiden whom he had left up in the tree, and who told
him all the mischief that the slave had done.
Who now can tell the least part of
the delight the King felt at this good turn of fortune?
Who can describe the shouting and leaping for joy
that there was? For the King was swimming in a
sea of delight, and was wafted to Heaven on a tide
of rapture. Then he embraced the fairy, and ordered
her to be handsomely dressed from head to foot; and
taking her by the hand he led her into the middle
of the hall, where all the courtiers and great folks
of the city were met to celebrate the feast.
Then the King called on them one by one, and said,
“Tell me, what punishment would that person
deserve who should do any harm to this beautiful lady!”
And one replied that such a person would deserve a
hempen collar; another, a breakfast of stones; a third,
a good beating; a fourth, a draught of poison; a fifth,
a millstone for a brooch in short, one
said this thing and another that. At last he called
on the black Queen, and putting the same question,
she replied, “Such a person would deserve to
be burned, and that her ashes should be thrown from
the roof of the castle.”
When the King heard this, he said
to her, “You have struck your own foot with
the axe, you have made your own fetters, you have sharpened
the knife and mixed the poison; for no one has done
this lady so much harm as yourself, you good-for-nothing
creature! Know you that this is the beautiful
maiden whom you wounded with the hairpin? Know
you that this is the pretty dove which you ordered
to be killed and cooked in a stewpan? What say
you now? It is all your own doing; and one who
does ill may expect ill in return.” So
saying, he ordered the slave to be seized and cast
alive on to a large burning pile of wood; and her ashes
were thrown from the top of the castle to all the winds
of Heaven, verifying the truth of the saying that
“He who sows thorns
should not go barefoot.”