ONCE on a time there lived a king who had two daughters, and he loved them with all his heart. When they grew up, he was suddenly seized with a wish to know if they, on their part, truly loved him, and he made up his mind that he would give his kingdom to whichever best proved her devotion.
So he called the elder princess and said to her, "How much do you love me?"
"As the apple of my eye!" answered she.
"Ah!" exclaimed the king, kissing her tenderly as he spoke, "you are indeed a good daughter."
Then he sent for the younger, and asked her how much she loved him.
"I look on you, father," she answered, "as I look on salt in my food."
But the king did not like her words, and ordered her to quit the court, and never again to appear before him. The poor princess went sadly up to her room and began to cry, but when she was reminded of her father's commands, she dried her eyes, and made a bundle of her jewels and her best dresses and hurriedly left the castle where she was born.
She walked straight along the road in front of her, without knowing very well where she was going or what was to become of her, for she had never been shown how to work, and all she had learnt consisted of a few household rules, and receipts of dishes which her mother had taught her long ago. And as she was afraid that no housewife would want to engage a girl with such a pretty face, she determined to make herself as ugly as she could.
She therefore took off the dress that she was wearing and put on some horrible old rags belonging to a beggar, all torn and covered with mud. After that she smeared mud all over her hands and face, and shook her hair into a great tangle. Having thus changed her appearance, she went about offering herself as a goose-girl or shepherdess. But the farmers' wives would have nothing to say to such a dirty maiden, and sent her away with a morsel of bread for charity's sake.
After walking for a great many days without being able to find any work, she came to a large farm where they were in want of a shepherdess, and engaged her gladly.
One day when she was keeping her sheep in a lonely tract of land, she suddenly felt a wish to dress herself in her robes of splendour. She washed herself carefully in the stream, and as she always carried her bundle with her, it was easy to shake off her rags, and transform herself in a few moments into a great lady.
The king's son, who had lost his way out hunting, perceived this lovely damsel a long way off, and wished to look at her closer. But as soon as the girl saw what he was at, she fled into the wood as swiftly as a bird. The prince ran after her, but as he was running he caught his foot in the root of a tree and fell, and when he got up again, she was nowhere to be seen.
When she was quite safe, she put on her rags again, and smeared over her face and hands. However the young prince, who was both hot and thirsty, found his way to the farm, to ask for a drink of cider, and he inquired the name of the beautiful lady that kept the sheep. At this everyone began to laugh, for they said that the shepherdess was one of the ugliest and dirtiest creatures under the sun.
The prince thought some witchcraft must be at work, and he hastened away before the return of the shepherdess, who became the butt of everybody's jests that evening.
But the king's son thought often of the lovely maiden whom he had only seen for a moment, though she seemed to him much more fascinating than any lady of the court. At last he dreamed of nothing else, and grew thinner day by day till his parents inquired what was the matter, promising to do all they could to make him as happy as he once was. He dared not tell them the truth, lest they should laugh at him, so he only said that he should like some bread baked by the kitchen girl in the distant farm.
Although the wish appeared rather odd, they hastened to fulfil it, and the farmer was told the request of the king's son. The maiden showed no surprise at receiving such an order, but merely asked for some flour, salt, and water, and also that she might be left alone in a little room adjoining the oven, where the kneading-trough stood. Before beginning her work she washed herself carefully, and even put on her rings; but, while she was baking, one of her rings slid into the dough. When she had finished she dirtied herself again, and let the lumps of the dough stick to her fingers, so that she became as ugly as before.
The loaf, which was a very little one, was brought to the king's son, who ate it with pleasure. But in cutting it he found the ring of the princess, and declared to his parents that he would marry the girl whom that ring fitted.
So the king made a proclamation through his whole kingdom and ladies came from afar to lay claim to the honour. But the ring was so tiny that even those who had the smallest hands could only get it on their little fingers. In a short time all the maidens of the kingdom, including the peasant girls, had tried on the ring, and the king was just about to announce that their efforts had been in vain, when the prince observed that he had not yet seen the shepherdess.
They sent to fetch her, and she arrived covered with rags, but with her hands cleaner than usual, so that she could easily slip on the ring. The king's son declared that he would fulfil his promise, and when his parents mildly remarked that the girl was only a keeper of sheep, and a very ugly one too, the maiden boldly said that she was born a princess, and that, if they would only give her some water and leave her alone in a room for a few minutes, she would show that she could look as well as anyone in fine clothes.
They did what she asked, and when she entered in a magnificent dress, she looked so beautiful that all saw she must be a princess in disguise. The king's son recognized the charming damsel of whom he had once caught a glimpse, and, flinging himself at her feet, asked if she would marry him. The princess then told her story, and said that it would be necessary to send an ambassador to her father to ask his consent and to invite him to the wedding.
The princess's father, who had never ceased to repent his harshness towards his daughter, had sought her through the land, but as no one could tell him anything of her, he supposed she was dead. Therefore it was with great joy he heard that she was living and that a king's son asked her in marriage, and he quitted his kingdom with his elder daughter so as to be present at the ceremony.
By the orders of the bride, they only served her father at the wedding breakfast bread without salt, and meat without seasoning. Seeing him make faces, and eat very little, his daughter, who sat beside him, asked if his dinner was not to his taste.
"No," he replied, "the dishes are carefully cooked and sent up, but they are all so dreadfully tasteless."
"Didn't I tell you, my father, that salt was the best thing in life? And yet, when I compared you to salt to show how much I loved you, you thought slightingly of me and drove me off."
The king embraced his daughter and allowed that he had been wrong to misinterpret her words. Then, for the rest of the wedding feast they gave him bread made with salt, and dishes with seasoning, and he said they were the very best he had ever eaten.
ONCE on a time a little mouse and a little sausage loved each other like sisters and decided to live together. They made their arrangements in such a way that every day one of them would go to walk in the fields or make purchases in town, while the other remained at home to keep the house.
One day the little sausage had prepared cabbage for dinner. The little mouse come back from town with a fine appetite, and enjoyed their meal so greatly that she exclaimed: " How delicious the cabbage is today, my dear!"
"Ah!" answered the little sausage, " that is because I popped myself into the pot while it was cooking."
Next day it was the mouse's turn to prepare the meals. She said to herself: "I will do as much for my friend as she did for me; we will have lentils for dinner, and I will jump into the pot while they are boiling." She let action follow words, without reflecting that a simple sausage can do some things which are out of the reach of even the wisest mouse.
When the sausage came home, she found the house lonely and silent. She called again and again, " My little mouse! Mouse of my heart!" but no one answered.
Then she went to look at the lentils boiling on the stove, and, alas! found within the pot her good little friend, who had perished at the post of duty.
Poor mousie, with the best intentions in the world, had stayed too long at her cookery, and when she desired to climb out of the pot, had no longer the strength to do so.
The poor sausage could never be consoled! That is why today, when you put one in the pan or on the gridiron, you will hear her weep and sigh, " M-my p-poor m-mouse! Ah, m-my p-poor m-mouse!"
ONCE on a time there lived a king who was enormously rich. He had broad lands, and sacks overflowing with gold and silver; but he did not care a bit for all his riches, because his wife was dead. He shut himself up in a little room and knocked his head against the walls for grief, till his courtiers were really afraid that he would hurt himself. So they hung feather-beds between the tapestry and the walls, and then he could go on knocking his head as long as it was any consolation to him without coming to much harm. All his subjects came to see him, and said whatever they thought would comfort him: some were grave, even gloomy with him; and some agreeable, even gay; but not one could make the least impression on him. Indeed, he hardly seemed to hear what they said.
At last came a lady who was wrapped in a black mantle, and seemed to be in the deepest grief. She wept and sobbed till even the king's attention was attracted; and when she said that, far from coming to try and diminish his grief, she, who had just lost a good husband, was come to add her tears to his, since she knew what he must be feeling, the king redoubled his lamentations. Then he told the sorrowful lady long stories about the good qualities of his departed queen, and she in her turn recounted all the virtues of her departed husband.
This passed the time so agreeably that the king quite forgot to thump his head against the feather-beds, and the lady did not need to wipe the tears from her great blue eyes as often as before. By degrees they came to talking about other things in which the king took an interest, and in a wonderfully short time the whole kingdom was astonished by the news that the king was married again to the sorrowful lady.
Now the king had one daughter, who was just fifteen years old. Her name was Fiordelisa, and she was the prettiest and most charming princess imaginable, always gay and merry. The new queen, who also had a daughter, very soon sent for her to come to the castle. Turritella, for that was her name, had been brought up by her godmother, the fairy Mazilla, but in spite of all the care bestowed on her, she was neither beautiful nor gracious. Indeed, when the queen saw how ill-tempered and ugly she appeared beside Fiordelisa she was in despair, and did everything in her power to turn the king against his own daughter, in the hope that he might take a fancy to Turritella.
One day the king said that it was time Fiordelisa and Turritella were married, so he would give one of them to the first suitable prince who visited his court. The queen answered:
"My daughter certainly ought to be the first to be married; she is older than yours, and a thousand times more charming!"
The king, who hated disputes, said, "Very well, it is no affair of mine, settle it your own way."
Very soon after came the news that King Charming, who was the most handsome and magnificent prince in all the country round, was on his way to visit the king. As soon as the queen heard this, she set all her jewellers, tailors, weavers, and embroiderers to work on splendid dresses and ornaments for Turritella, but she told the king that Fiordelisa had no need of anything new, and the night before the king was to arrive, she bribed her waiting woman to steal away all the princess's own dresses and jewels, so that when the day came, and Fiordelisa wished to adorn herself as became her high rank, not even a ribbon could she find.
However, as she easily guessed who had played her such a trick, she made no complaint, but sent to the merchants for some rich stuffs. But they said that the queen had expressly forbidden them to supply her with any, and they dared not disobey. So the princess had nothing left to put on but the little white frock she had been wearing the day before; and dressed in that, she went down when the time of the king's arrival came, and sat in a corner hoping to escape notice.
The queen received her guest with great ceremony, and presented him to her daughter, who was gorgeously attired, but so much splendour only made her ugliness more noticeable, and the king, after one glance at her, looked the other way. The queen, however, only thought that he was bashful, and took pains to keep Turritella in full view. King Charming then asked it there was not another princess, called Fiordelisa.
"Yes," said Turritella, pointing with her finger, "there she is, trying to keep out of sight because she is not smart."
At this Fiordelisa blushed, and looked so shy and so lovely, that the king was fairly astonished. He rose, and bowing low before her, said,
"Madam, your incomparable beauty needs no adornment."
"Sire," answered the princess, "I assure you that I am not in the habit of wearing dresses as crumpled and untidy as this one, so I should have been better pleased if you had not seen me at all."
"Impossible!" cried King Charming.
"Wherever such a marvellously beautiful princess appears I can look at nothing else."
Here the queen broke in, saying sharply,
"I assure you, sire, that Fiordelisa is vain enough already. Pray make her no more flattering speeches."
The king quite understood that she was not pleased, but that did not matter to him, so he admired Fiordelisa to his heart's content, and talked to her for three hours without stopping.
The queen was in despair, and so was Turritella, when they saw how much the king preferred Fiordelisa. They complained bitterly to the king, and begged and teased him, till he at last consented to have the princess shut up somewhere out of sight while King Charming's visit lasted. So that night, as she went to her room, she was seized by four masked figures, and carried up into the topmost room of a high tower, where they left her in the deepest dejection. She easily guessed that she was to be kept out of sight for fear the king should fall in love with her; but then, how disappointing that was, for she already liked him very much, and would have been quite willing to be chosen for his bride.
King Charming did not know what had happened to the princess, he looked forward impatiently to meeting her again, and he tried to talk about her with the courtiers who were placed in attendance on him. But by the queen's orders they would say nothing good of her, but declared that she was vain, capricious, and bad-tempered; that she tormented her waiting-maids, and that, in spite of all the money that the king gave her, she was so mean that she preferred to go about dressed like a poor shepherdess, rather than spend any of it. All these things vexed the king very much, and he was silent.
"It is true," thought he, "that she was very poorly dressed, but then she was so ashamed that it proves that she was not accustomed to be so. I cannot believe that with that lovely face she can be as ill-tempered and contemptible as they say. No, no, the queen must be jealous of her for the sake of that ugly daughter of hers, and so these evil reports are spread."
The courtiers could not help seeing that what they had told the king did not please him, and one of them cunningly began to praise Fiordelisa, when he could talk to the king without being heard by the others.
King Charming thereupon became so cheerful, and interested in all he said, that it was easy to guess how much he admired the princess. So when the queen sent for the courtiers and questioned them about all they had found out, their report confirmed her worst fears.
As to the poor princess Fiordelisa, she cried all night without stopping.
"It would have been quite bad enough to be shut up in this gloomy tower before I had ever seen King Charming," she said; "but now when he is here, and they are all enjoying themselves with him, it is too unkind."
The next day the queen sent King Charming splendid presents of jewels and rich stuffs, and among other things an ornament made expressly in honour of the approaching wedding. It was a heart cut out of one huge ruby, and was surrounded by several diamond arrows, and pierced by one. A golden true-lover's knot above the heart bore the motto, "But one can wound me," and the whole jewel was hung on a chain of the finest pearls. The page who brought it begged him to accept it from the princess, who chose him to be her knight.
"What!" cried he, "does the lovely princess Fiordelisa deign to think of me in this amiable and encouraging way?"
"You confuse the names, sire," said the page hastily.
"I come on behalf of the princess Turritella."
"Oh, it is Turritella who wishes me to be her knight," said the king coldly.
"I am sorry that I cannot accept the honour."
And he sent the splendid gifts back to the queen and Turritella, who were furiously angry at the contempt with which they were treated. As soon as he possibly could, King Charming went to see the king and queen, and as he entered the hall he looked for Fiordelisa, and every time anyone came in he started round to see who it was, and was altogether so uneasy and dissatisfied that the queen saw it plainly. But she would not take any notice, and talked of nothing but the entertainments she was planning. The prince answered at random, and presently asked if he was not to have the pleasure of seeing the princess Fiordelisa.
"Sire," answered the queen haughtily, "her father has ordered that she shall not leave her own apartments till my daughter is married."
"What can be the reason for keeping that lovely princess a prisoner?" cried the king in great indignation.
"I don't know," answered the queen; "and even if I did, I might not feel bound to tell you."
The king was terribly angry at being thwarted like this. He felt certain that Turritella was to blame for it, so casting a furious glance at her he abruptly took leave of the queen, and returned to his own apartments. There he said to a young squire whom he had brought with him:
"I would give all I have in the world to gain the good will of one of the princess's waiting-women, and obtain a moment's speech with Fiordelisa."
"Nothing could be easier," said the young squire; and he very soon made friends with one of the ladies, who told him that in the evening Fiordelisa would be at a little window which looked into the garden, where he could come and talk to her. Only, she said, he must take very great care not to be seen, as it would be as much as her place was worth to be caught helping King Charming to see the princess.
The squire was delighted, and promised all she asked; but the moment he had run off to announce his success to the king, the false waiting-woman went and told the queen all that had passed. She at once determined that her own daughter should be at the little window; and she taught her so well all she was to say and do, that even the stupid Turritella could make no mistake.
The night was so dark that the king had not a chance of finding out the trick that was being played on him, so he approached the window with the greatest delight, and said everything that he had been longing to say to Fiordelisa to persuade her of his love for her. Turritella answered as she had been taught, that she was very unhappy, and that there was no chance of her being better treated by the queen till her daughter was married. And then the king entreated her to marry him; and thereupon he drew his ring from his finger and put it on Turritella's, and she answered him as well as she could.
The king could not help thinking that she did not say exactly what he would have expected from his darling Fiordelisa, but he persuaded himself that the fear of being surprised by the queen was making her awkward and unnatural. He would not leave her till she had promised to see him again the next night, which Turritella did willingly enough.
The queen was overjoyed at the success of her stratagem, and promised herself that all would now be as she wished; and sure enough, as soon as it was dark the following night the king came, bringing with him a chariot which had been given him by an enchanter who was his friend. This chariot was drawn by flying frogs, and the king easily persuaded Turritella to come out and let him put her into it, then mounting beside her he cried triumphantly,
"Now, my princess, you are free; where will it please you that we shall hold our wedding?"
And Turritella, with her head muffled in her mantle, answered that the fairy Mazilla was her godmother, and that she would like it to be at her castle. So the king told the frogs, who had the map of the whole world in their heads, and very soon he and Turritella were set down at the castle of the fairy Mazilla. The king would certainly have found out his mistake the moment they stepped into the brilliantly lighted castle, but Turritella held her mantle more closely round her, and asked to see the fairy by herself, and quickly told her all that had happened, and how she had succeeded in deceiving King Charming.
"Oho! My daughter," said the fairy, "I see we have no easy task before us. He loves Fiordelisa so much that he will not be easily pacified. I feel sure he will defy us!" Meanwhile the king was waiting in a splendid room with diamond walls, so clear that he could see the fairy and Turritella as they stood whispering together, and he was very much puzzled.
"Who can have betrayed us?" he said to himself.
"How comes our enemy here? She must be plotting to prevent our marriage. Why doesn't my lovely Fiordelisa make haste and come hack to me?"
But it was worse than anything he had imagined when the fairy Mazilla entered, leading Turritella by the hand, and said to him,
"King Charming, here is the princess Turritella to whom you have plighted your faith. Let us have the wedding at once."
"I!" cried the king.
"I marry that little creature! What do you take me for? I have promised her nothing!"
"Say no more. Have you no respect for a fairy?" cried she angrily.
"Yes, madam," answered the king, "I am prepared to respect you as much as a fairy can be respected, if you will give me back my princess."
"Am I not here?" interrupted Turritella.
"Here is the ring you gave me. With whom did you talk at the little window, if it was not with me?"
"What!" cried the king angrily, "have I been altogether deceived and deluded? Where is my chariot? Not another moment will I stay here."
"Oho," said the fairy, "not so fast."
And she touched his feet, which instantly became as firmly fixed to the floor as if they had been nailed there.
"Oh! Do whatever you like with me," said the king; "you may turn me to stone, but I will marry no one but Fiordelisa."
And not another word would he say, though the fairy scolded and threatened, and Turritella wept and raged for twenty days and twenty nights. At last the fairy Mazilla said furiously, for she was quite tired out by his obstinacy, "Choose whether you will marry my goddaughter, or do penance seven years for breaking your word to her."
And then the king cried gaily:
"Pray do whatever you like with me, as long as you deliver me from this ugly scold!"
"Scold!" cried Turritella angrily.
"Who are you, I should like to know, that you dare to call me a scold? A miserable king who breaks his word, and goes about in a chariot drawn by croaking frogs out of a marsh!"
"Let us have no more of these insults," cried the fairy.
"Fly from that window, ungrateful king, and for seven years be a blue bird."
As she spoke the king's face altered, his arms turned to wings, his feet to little crooked black claws. In a moment he had a slender body like a bird, covered with shining blue feathers, his beak was like ivory, his eyes were bright as stars, and a crown of white feathers adorned his head.
As soon as the transformation was complete the king uttered a dolorous cry and fled through the open window, pursued by the mocking laughter of Turritella and the fairy Mazilla. He flew on till he reached the thickest part of the wood, and perched on a cypress tree there, he bewailed his miserable fate.
"Alas! In seven years who knows what may happen to my darling Fiordelisa!" he said.
"Her cruel stepmother may have married her to someone else before I am myself again, and then what good will life be to me?"
In the meantime the fairy Mazilla had sent Turritella back to the queen, who was all anxiety to know how the wedding, had gone off. But when her daughter arrived and told her all that had happened she was terribly angry, and of course all her wrath fell on Fiordelisa.
"She shall have cause to repent that the king admires her," said the queen, nodding her head meaningly, and then she and Turritella went up to the little room in the tower where the princess was imprisoned. Fiordelisa was immensely surprised to see that Turritella was wearing a royal mantle and a diamond crown, and her heart sank when the queen said:
"My daughter is come to show you some of her wedding presents, for she is King Charming's bride, and they are the happiest pair in the world, he loves her to distraction."
All this time Turritella was spreading out lace, and jewels, and rich brocades, and ribbons before Fiordelisa's unwilling eyes, and taking good care to display King Charming's ring, which she wore on her thumb. The princess recognised it as soon as her eyes fell on it, and after that she could no longer doubt that he had indeed married Turritella. In despair she cried,
"Take away these miserable gauds! What pleasure has a wretched captive in the sight of them?" and then she fell insensible on the floor, and the cruel queen laughed maliciously, and went away with Turritella, leaving her there without comfort or aid.
That night the queen said to the king that his daughter was so infatuated with King Charming, in spite of his never having shown any preference for her, that it was just as well she should stay in the tower till she came to her senses. To which he answered that it was her affair, and she could give what orders she pleased about the princess.
When the unhappy Fiordelisa recovered, and remembered all she had just heard, she began to cry bitterly, believing that King Charming was lost to her for ever, and all night long she sat at her open window sighing and lamenting; but when it was dawn she crept away into the darkest corner of her little room and sat there, too unhappy to care about anything. As soon as night came again she once more leaned out into the darkness and bewailed her miserable lot.
Now it happened that King Charming, or rather the blue bird, had been flying round the palace in the hope of seeing his beloved princess, but had not dared to go too near the windows for fear of being seen and recognised by Turritella. When night fell he had not succeeded in discovering where Fiordelisa was imprisoned, and, weary and sad, he perched on a branch of a tall fir tree that grew close to the tower, and began to sing himself to sleep. But soon the sound of a soft voice lamenting attracted his attention, and listening intently he heard it say,
"Ah! cruel queen! What have I ever done to be imprisoned like this? And was I not unhappy enough before, that you must needs come and taunt me with the happiness your daughter is enjoying now she is King Charming's bride?"
The blue bird, greatly surprised, waited impatiently for the dawn, and the moment it was light flew off to see who it could have been who spoke thus. But he found the window shut, and could see no one. The next night, however, he was on the watch, and by the clear moonlight he saw that the sorrowful lady at the window was Fiordelisa herself.
"My princess! Have I found you at last?" said he, alighting close to her.
"Who is speaking to me?" cried the princess in great surprise.
"Only a moment since you mentioned my name, and now you do not know me, Fiordelisa," said he sadly.
"But no wonder, since I am nothing but a blue bird, and must remain one for seven years."
"What! Little blue bird, are you really the powerful King Charming?" said the princess, caressing him.
"It is too true," he answered.
"For being faithful to you I am thus punished. But believe me, if it were for twice as long I would bear it joyfully rather than give you up."
"Oh! What are you telling me?" cried the princess.
"Has not your bride, Turritella, just visited me, wearing the royal mantle and the diamond crown you gave her? I cannot be mistaken, for I saw your ring on her thumb."
Then the blue bird was furiously angry, and told the princess all that had happened, how he had been deceived into carrying off Turritella, and how, for refusing to marry her, the fairy Mazilla had condemned him to be a blue bird for seven years.
The princess was very happy when she heard how faithful her lover was, and would never have tired of hearing his loving speeches and explanations, but too soon the sun rose, and they had to part lest the blue bird should be discovered. After promising to come again to the princess's window as soon as it was dark, he flew away, and hid himself in a little hole in the fir-tree, while Fiordelisa remained devoured by anxiety lest he should be caught in a trap, or eaten up by an eagle.
But the blue bird did not long stay in his hiding-place. He flew away till he came to his own palace, and got into it through a broken window, and there he found the cabinet where his jewels were kept, and chose out a splendid diamond ring as a present for the princess. By the time he got back, Fiordelisa was sitting waiting for him by the open window, and when he gave her the ring, she scolded him gently for having run such a risk to get it for her.
"Promise me that you will wear it always!" said the blue bird. And the princess promised on condition that he should come and see her in the day as well as by night. They talked all night long, and the next morning the blue bird flew off to his kingdom, and crept into his palace through the broken window, and chose from his treasures two bracelets, each cut out of a single emerald. When he presented them to the princess, she shook her head at him reproachfully, saying,
"Do you think I love you so little that I need all these gifts to remind me of you?"
And he answered,
"No, my princess; but I love you so much that I feel I cannot express it, try as I may. I only bring you these worthless trifles to show that I have not ceased to think of you, though I have been obliged to leave you for a time."
The following night he gave Fiordelisa a watch set in a single pearl. The princess laughed a little when she saw it, and said,
"You may well give me a watch, for since I have known you I have lost the power of measuring time. The hours you spend with me pass like minutes, and the hours that I drag through without you seem years to me."
"Ah, princess, they cannot seem so long to you as they do to me!" he answered. Day by day he brought more beautiful things for the princess-diamonds, and rubies, and opals; and at night she decked herself with them to please him, but by day she hid them in her straw mattress. When the sun shone the blue bird, hidden in the tall fir-tree, sang to her so sweetly that all the passersby wondered, and said that a spirit inhabited the wood. And so two years slipped away, and still the princess was a prisoner, and Turritella was not married. The queen had offered her hand to all the neighbouring princes, but they always answered that they would marry Fiordelisa with pleasure, but not Turritella on any account. This displeased the queen terribly.
"Fiordelisa must be in league with them, to annoy me!" she said. "Let us go and accuse her of it."
So she and Turritella went up into the tower. Now it happened that it was nearly midnight, and Fiordelisa, all decked with jewels, was sitting at the window with the blue bird, and as the queen paused outside the door to listen she heard the princess and her lover singing together a little song he had just taught her. These were the words:,
"Oh! What a luckless pair are we,
They sound melancholy perhaps, but the two voices sang them gaily enough, and the queen burst open the door, crying, "Ah! my Turritella, there is some treachery going on here!"
As soon as she saw her, Fiordelisa, with great presence of mind, hastily shut her little window, that the blue bird might have time to escape, and then turned to meet the queen, who overwhelmed her with a torrent of reproaches.
"Your intrigues are discovered, madam," she said furiously; "and you need not hope that your high rank will save you from the punishment you deserve."
"And with whom do you accuse me of intriguing, madam?" said the princess. "Have I not been your prisoner these two years, and who have I seen except the gaolers sent by you?"
While she spoke the queen and Turritella were looking at her in the greatest surprise, perfectly dazzled by her beauty and the splendour of her jewels, and the queen said:
"If one may ask, madam, where did you get all these diamonds? Perhaps you mean to tell me that you have discovered a mine of them in the tower!"
"I certainly did find them here," answered the princess.
"And pray," said the queen, her wrath increasing every moment, "for whose admiration are you decked out like this, since I have often seen you not half as fine on the most important occasions at court?"
"For my own," answered Fiordelisa.
"You must admit that I have had plenty of time on my hands, so you cannot be surprised at my spending some of it in making myself smart."
"That's all very fine," said the queen suspiciously. "I think I will look about, and see for myself."
So she and Turritella began to search every corner of the little room, and when they came to the straw mattress out fell such a quantity of pearls, diamonds, rubies, opals, emeralds, and sapphires, that they were amazed, and could not tell what to think. But the queen resolved to hide somewhere a packet of false letters to prove that the princess had been conspiring with the king's enemies, and she chose the chimney as a good place. Fortunately for Fiordelisa this was exactly where the blue bird had perched himself, to keep an eye on her proceedings, and try to avert danger from his beloved princess, and now he cried:
"Beware, Fiordelisa! Your false enemy is plotting against you."
This strange voice so frightened the queen that she took the letter and went away hastily with Turritella, and they held a council to try and devise some means of finding out what fairy or enchanter was favouring the princess. At last they sent one of the queen's maids to wait on Fiordelisa, and told her to pretend to be quite stupid, and to see and hear nothing, while she was really to watch the princess day and night, and keep the queen informed of all her doings.
Poor Fiordelisa, who guessed she was sent as a spy, was in despair, and cried bitterly that she dared not see her dear blue bird for fear that some evil might happen to him if he were discovered.
The days were so long, and the nights so dull, but for a whole month she never went near her little window lest he should fly to her as he used to do.
However, at last the spy, who had never taken her eyes off the princess day or night, was so overcome with weariness that she fell into a deep sleep, and as son as the princess saw that, she flew to open her window and cried softly:
"Blue bird, blue as the sky,
And the blue bird, who had never ceased to flutter round within sight and hearing of her prison, came in an instant. They had so much to say, and were so overjoyed to meet once more, that it scarcely seemed to them five minutes before the sun rose, and the blue bird had to fly away.
But the next night the spy slept as soundly as before, so that the blue bird came, and he and the princess began to think they were perfectly safe, and to make all sorts of plans for being happy as they were before the queen's visit. But, alas! the third night the spy was not quite so sleepy, and when the princess opened her window and cried as usual:
"Blue Bird, blue as the sky,
she was wide awake in a moment, though she was sly enough to keep her eyes shut at first. But presently she heard voices, and peeping cautiously, she saw by the moonlight the most lovely blue bird in the world, who was talking to the princess, while she stroked and caressed it fondly.
The spy did not lose a single word of the conversation, and as soon as the day dawned, and the blue bird had reluctantly said good-bye to the princess, she rushed off to the queen, and told her all she had seen and heard.
Then the queen sent for Turritella, and they talked it over, and very soon came to the conclusion than this blue bird was no other than King Charming himself.
"Ah! that insolent princess!" cried the queen. "To think that when we supposed her to be so miserable, she was all the while as happy as possible with that false king. But I know how we can avenge ourselves!"
So the spy was ordered to go back and pretend to sleep as soundly as ever, and indeed she went to bed earlier than usual, and snored as naturally as possible, and the poor princess ran to the window and cried:
"Blue bird, blue as the sky,
But no bird came. All night long she called, and waited, and listened, but still there was no answer, for the cruel queen had caused the fir tree to be hung all over with knives, swords, razors, shears, bill-hooks, and sickles, so that when the blue bird heard the princess call, and flew towards her, his wings were cut, and his little black feet clipped off, and all pierced and stabbed in twenty places, he fell back bleeding into his hiding place in the tree, and lay there groaning and despairing, for he thought the princess must have been persuaded to betray him, to regain her liberty.
"Ah! Fiordelisa, can you indeed be so lovely and so faithless?" he sighed, "then I may as well die at once!" And he turned over on his side and began to die. But it happened that his friend the enchanter had been very much alarmed at seeing the frog chariot come back to him without King Charming, and had been round the world eight times seeking him, but without success. At the very moment when the king gave himself up to despair, he was passing through the wood for the eighth time, and called, as he had done all over the world:
"Charming! King Charming! Are you here?"
The king at once recognised his friend's voice, and answered very faintly:
"I am here."
The enchanter looked all round him, but could see nothing, and then the king said again:
"I am a blue bird."
Then the enchanter found him in an instant, and seeing his pitiable condition, ran here and there without a word, till he had collected a handful of magic herbs, with which, and a few incantations, he speedily made the king whole and sound again.
"Now," said he, "let me hear all about it. There must be a princess at the bottom of this."
"There are two!" answered King Charming, with a wry smile.
And then he told the whole story, accusing Fiordelisa of having betrayed the secret of his visits to make her peace with the queen, and indeed saying a great many hard things about her fickleness and her deceitful beauty, and so on. The enchanter quite agreed with him, and even went further, declaring that all princesses were alike, except perhaps in the matter of beauty, and advised him to have done with Fiordelisa, and forget all about her. But, somehow or other, this advice did not quite please the king.
"What is to be done next?" said the enchanter, "since you still have five years to remain a blue bird."
"Take me to your palace," answered the king; "there you can at least keep me in a cage safe from cats and swords."
"Well, that will be the best thing to do for the present," said his friend.
"But I am not an enchanter for nothing. I'm sure to have a brilliant idea for you before long."
In the meantime Fiordelisa, quite in despair, sat at her window day and night calling her dear blue bird in vain, and imagining over and over again all the terrible things that could have happened to him, till she grew quite pale and thin.
As for the queen and Turritella, they were triumphant; but their triumph was short, for the king, Fiordelisa's father, fell ill and died, and all the people rebelled against the queen and Turritella, and came in a body to the palace demanding Fiordelisa. The queen came out on the balcony with threats and haughty words, so that at last they lost their patience, and broke open the doors of the palace, one of which fell back on the queen and killed her. Turritella fled to the fairy Mazilla, and all the nobles of the kingdom fetched the princess Fiordelisa from her prison in the tower, and made her queen.
Very soon, with all the care and attention they bestowed on her, she recovered from the effects of her long captivity and looked more beautiful than ever, and was able to take counsel with her courtiers, and arrange for the governing of her kingdom during her absence. And then, taking a bagful of jewels, she set out all alone to look for the blue bird, without telling anyone where she was going.
Meanwhile, the enchanter was taking care of King Charming, but as his power was not great enough to counteract the fairy Mazilla's, he at last resolved to go and see if he could make any kind of terms with her for his friend; for you see, fairies and enchanters are cousins in a sort of way, after all; and after knowing one another for five or six hundred years and falling out, and making it up again pretty often, they understand one another well enough. So the fairy Mazilla received him graciously.
"And what may you be wanting, gossip?" said she.
"You can do a good turn for me if you will;" he answered.
"A king, who is a friend of mine, was unlucky enough to offend you -'
"Aha! I know who you mean," interrupted the fairy.
"I am sorry not to oblige you, gossip, but he need expect no mercy from me unless he will marry my goddaughter, whom you see over there looking so pretty and charming. Let him think over what I say."
The enchanter hadn't a word to say, for he thought Turritella really frightful, but he could not go away without making one more effort for his friend the king, who was really in great danger as long as he lived in a cage. Indeed, already he had met with several alarming accidents. Once the nail on which his cage was hung had given way, and his feathered majesty had suffered much from the fall, while pussy, who happened to be in the room at the time, had given him a scratch in the eye which came very near blinding him. Another time they had forgotten to give him any water to drink, so that he was nearly dead with thirst; and the worst thing of all was that he was in danger of losing his kingdom, for he had been absent so long that all his subjects believed him to be dead.
So considering all these things the enchanter agreed with the fairy Mazilla that she should restore the king to his natural form, and should take Turritella to stay in his palace for several months, and if, after the time was over he still could not make up his mind to marry her, he should once more be changed into a blue bird.
Then the fairy dressed Turritella in a magnificent gold and silver robe, and they mounted together on a flying dragon, and very soon reached King Charming's palace, where he, too, had just been brought by his faithful friend, the enchanter.
Three strokes of the fairy's wand restored his natural form, and he was as handsome and delightful as ever, but he considered that he paid dearly for his restoration when he caught sight of Turritella, and the mere idea of marrying her made him shudder.
Meanwhile, Queen Fiordelisa, disguised as a poor peasant girl, wearing a great straw hat that concealed her face, and carrying an old sack over her shoulder, had set out on her weary journey, and had travelled far, sometimes by sea and sometimes by land; sometimes on foot, and sometimes on horseback, but not knowing which way to go. She feared all the time that every step she took was leading her farther from her lover. One day as she sat, quite tired and sad, on the bank of a little brook, cooling her white feet in the clear running water, and combing her long hair that glittered like gold in the sunshine, a little bent old woman passed by, leaning on a stick. She stopped, and said to Fiordelisa:
"What, my pretty child, are you all alone?"
"Indeed, good mother, I am too sad to care for company," she answered; and the tears ran down her cheeks.
"Don't cry," said the old woman, "but tell me truly what is the matter. Perhaps I can help you."
The queen told her willingly all that had happened, and how she was seeking the blue bird. Thereupon the little old woman suddenly stood up straight, and grew tall, and young, and beautiful, and said with a smile to the astonished Fiordelisa:
"Lovely queen, the king whom you seek is no longer a bird. My sister Mazilla has given his own form back to him, and he is in his own kingdom. Don't be afraid, you will reach him, and will prosper. Take these four eggs; if you break one when you are in any great difficulty, you will find aid."
So saying, she disappeared, and Fiordelisa, feeling much encouraged, put the eggs into her bag and turned her steps towards Charming's kingdom.
After walking on and on for eight days and eight nights, she came at last to a tremendously high hill of polished ivory, so steep that it was impossible to get a foothold on it. Fiordelisa tried several hundred times, and scrambled and slipped, but always in the end found herself exactly where she started from. At last she sat down at the foot of it in despair, and then suddenly thought of the eggs. Breaking one quickly, she found in it some little gold hooks, and with these fastened to her feet and hands, she mounted the ivory hill without further trouble, for the little hooks saved her from slipping. As soon as she reached the top a new difficulty presented itself, for all the other side, and indeed the whole valley, was one polished mirror, in which thousands and thousands of people were admiring their reflections. For this was a magic mirror, in which people saw themselves just as they wished to appear, and pilgrims came to it from the four corners of the world. But nobody had ever been able to reach the top of the hill, and when they saw Fiordelisa standing there, they raised a terrible outcry, declaring that if she set foot on their glass she would break it to pieces. The queen, not knowing what to do, for she saw it would be dangerous to try to go down, broke the second egg, and out came a chariot, drawn by two white doves, and Fiordelisa got into it, and was floated softly away. After a night and a day the doves alighted outside the gate of King Charming's kingdom. Here the queen got out of the chariot, and kissed the doves and thanked them, and then with a beating heart she walked into the town, asking the people she met where she could see the king. But they only laughed at her, crying:
"See the king? And pray, why do you want to see the king, my little kitchen-maid? You had better go and wash your face first, your eyes are not clear enough to see him!"
For the queen had disguised herself, and pulled her hair down about her eyes, that no one might know her. As they would not tell her, she went on farther and asked again, and this time the people answered that tomorrow she might see the king driving through the streets with the princess Turritella, as it was said that at last he had consented to marry her.
This was indeed terrible news to Fiordelisa. Had she come all this weary way only to find Turritella had succeeded in making King Charming forget her?
She was too tired and miserable to walk another step, so she sat down in a doorway and cried bitterly all night long. As soon as it was light she hastened to the palace, and after being sent away fifty times by the guards, she got in at last, and saw the thrones set in the great hall for the king and Turritella, who was already looked on as queen.
Fiordelisa hid herself behind a marble pillar, and very soon saw Turritella appear, richly dressed, but as ugly as ever, and with her came the king, more handsome and splendid even than Fiordelisa had remembered him. When Turritella had seated herself on the throne, the queen approached her.
"Who are you, and how dare you come near my high-mightiness, on my golden throne?" said Turritella, frowning fiercely at her.
"They call me the little kitchen-maid," she replied, "and I come to offer some precious things for sale," and with that she searched in her old sack, and drew out the emerald bracelets King Charming had given her.
"Ho, ho!" said Turritella, those are pretty bits of glass. I suppose you would like five silver pieces for them."
"Show them to someone who understands such things, madam," answered the queen; "after that we can decide on the price."
Turritella, who really loved King Charming as much as she could love anybody, and was always delighted to get a chance of talking to him, now showed him the bracelets, asking how much he considered them worth. As soon as he saw them he remembered those he had given to Fiordelisa, and turned very pale and sighed deeply, and fell into such sad thought that he quite forgot to answer her. Presently she asked him again, and then he said, with a great effort:
"I believe these bracelets are worth as much as my kingdom. I thought there was only one such pair in the world; but here, it seems, is another."
Then Turritella went back to the queen, and asked her what was the lowest price she would take for them.
"More than you would find it easy to pay, Madam," answered she; "but if you will manage for me to sleep one night in the chamber of echoes, I will give you the emeralds."
"By all means, my little kitchen-maid," said Turritella, highly delighted.
The king did not try to find out where the bracelets had come from, not because he did not want to know, but because the only way would have been to ask Turritella, and he disliked her so much that he never spoke to her if he could possibly avoid it. It was he who had told Fiordelisa about the chamber of echoes, when he was a blue bird. It was a little room below the king's own bed-chamber, and was so ingeniously built that the softest whisper in it was plainly heard in the king's room. Fiordelisa wanted to reproach him for his faithlessness, and could not imagine a better way than this. So when, by Turritella's orders, she was left there she began to weep and lament, and never ceased till daybreak.
The king's pages told Turritella, when she asked them, what a sobbing and sighing they had heard, and she asked Fiordelisa what it was all about. The queen answered that she often dreamed and talked aloud.
But by an unlucky chance the king heard nothing of all this, for he took a sleeping draught every night before he lay down, and did not wake up till the sun was high.
The queen passed the day in great disquietude.
"If he did hear me," she said, "could he remain so cruelly indifferent? But if he did not hear me, what can I do to get another chance? I have plenty of jewels, it is true, but nothing remarkable enough to catch Turritella's fancy."
Just then she thought of the eggs, and broke one, out of which came a little carriage of polished steel ornamented with gold, drawn by six green mice. The coachman was a rose-coloured rat, the postilion a grey one, and the carriage was occupied by the tiniest and most charming figures, who could dance and do wonderful tricks. Fiordelisa clapped her hands and danced for joy when she saw this triumph of magic art, and as soon as it was evening, went to a shady garden-path down which she knew Turritella would pass, and then she made the mice galop, and the tiny people show off their tricks, and sure enough Turritella came, and the moment she saw it all cried:
"Little kitchen-maid, little kitchen-maid, what will you take for your mouse-carriage?"
And the queen answered:
"Let me sleep once more in the chamber of echoes."
"I won't refuse your request, poor creature," said Turritella condescendingly.
And then she turned to her ladies and whispered
"The silly creature does not know how to profit by her chances; so much the better for me."
When night came Fiordelisa said all the loving words she could think of, but alas! With no better success than before, for the king slept heavily after his draught. One of the pages said:
"This peasant girl must be crazy;" but another answered: "Yet what she says sounds very sad and touching."
As for Fiordelisa, she thought the king must have a very hard heart if he could hear how she grieved and yet pay her no attention. She had but one more chance, and on breaking the last egg she found to her great delight that it contained a more marvellous thing than ever. It was a pie made of six birds, cooked to perfection, and yet they were all alive, and singing and talking, and they answered questions and told fortunes in the most amusing way.
Taking this treasure Fiordelisa once more set herself to wait in the great hall through which Turritella was sure to pass, and as she sat there one of the king's pages came by, and said to her:
"Well, little kitchen-maid, it is a good thing that the king always takes a sleeping draught, for if not he would be kept awake all night by your sighing and lamenting."
Then Fiordelisa knew why the king had not heeded her, and taking a handful of pearls and diamonds out of her sack, she said, "If you can promise me that tonight the king shall not have his sleeping draught, I will give you all these jewels."
"Oh! I promise that willingly," said the page.
At this moment Turritella appeared, and at the first sight of the savoury pie, with the pretty little birds all singing and chattering, she cried:,
"That is an admirable pie, little kitchen-maid. Pray what will you take for it?"
"The usual price," she answered. "To sleep once more in the chamber of echoes."
"By all means, only give me the pie," said the greedy Turritella. And when night was come, Queen Fiordelisa waited till she thought everybody in the palace would be asleep, and then began to lament as before.
"Ah, Charming!" she said, "what have I ever done that you should forsake me and marry Turritella? If you could only know all I have suffered, and what a weary way I have come to seek you."
Now the page had faithfully kept his word, and given King Charming a glass of water instead of his usual sleeping draught, so there he lay wide awake, and heard every word Fiordelisa said, and even recognised her voice, though he could not tell where it came from.
"Ah, princess!" he said, "how could you betray me to our cruel enemies when I loved you so dearly?"
Fiordelisa heard him, and answered quickly:
"Find out the little kitchen-maid, and she will explain everything."
Then the king in a great hurry sent for his pages and said:
"If you can find the little kitchen-maid, bring her to me at once."
"Nothing could be easier, sire," they answered, "for she is in the chamber of echoes."
The king was very much puzzled when he heard this. How could the lovely princess Fiordelisa be a little kitchen-maid? or how could a little kitchen-maid have Fiordelisa's own voice? So he dressed hastily, and ran down a little secret staircase which led to the Chamber of Echoes. There, on a heap of soft cushions, sat his lovely princess. She had laid aside all her ugly disguises and wore a white silken robe. The king was overjoyed at the sight, and rushed to throw himself at her feet, and asked her a thousand questions without giving her time to answer one. Fiordelisa was equally happy to be with him once more, and nothing troubled them but the remembrance of the fairy Mazilla. But at this moment in came the enchanter, and with him a famous fairy, the same in fact who had given Fiordelisa the eggs. After greeting the king and queen, they said that as they were united in wishing to help King Charming, the fairy Mazilla had no longer any power against him, and he might marry Fiordelisa as soon as he pleased.
The king's joy may be imagined, and as soon as it was day the news was spread through the palace, and everybody who saw Fiordelisa loved her directly. When Turritella heard what had happened she came running to the king, and when she saw Fiordelisa with him she was terribly angry, but before she could say a word the enchanter and the fairy changed her into a big brown owl, and she floated away out of one of the palace windows, hooting dismally. Then the wedding was held with great splendour, and King Charming and Queen Fiordelisa lived happily ever after.
[L'Oiseau Bleu, par Mme. d'Aulnoy.]