Part 18

Then they went into the Elf-hill, where the company was of the grandest, although they had been got together in such a hurry; you might almost say they had been blown together. It was all charming, and arranged to suit everyone’s taste. The merman and his daughters sat at table in great tubs of water, and said it was just like being at home. Everybody had excellent table manners, except the two young Norwegian Trolds; they put their feet up on the table, but then they thought anything they did was right.

“Take your feet out of the way of the dishes,” said the old Trold, and they obeyed him, but not at once. They tickled the ladies they took in to dinner with fir-cones out of their pockets; then they pulled off their boots, so as to be quite comfortable, and handed the boots to the ladies to hold. Their father the old Trold chieftain, was very different; he told no end of splendid stories about the proud Norwegian mountains, and the waterfalls dashing down in white foam with a roar like thunder. He told them about the salmon leaping up against the rushing water, when the nixies played with golden harps. Then he went on to tell them about the sparkling winter nights when the sledge bells rang and the lads flew over the ice with blazing lights, the ice which was so transparent that you could see the startled fish darting away under your feet. Yes, indeed, he could tell stories, you could see and hear the things he described; the saw mills going, the men and maids singing their songs and dancing the merry Halling dance. Huzza! All at once the old Trold gave the elf housekeeper a smacking kiss, such a kiss it was, and yet they were not a bit related. Then the elf-maidens had to dance, first plain dancing, and then step dancing, and it was most becoming to them. Then came a fancy dance.

Preserve us, how nimble they were on their legs, you couldn’t tell where they began or where they ended, you couldn’t tell which were arms and which were legs, they were all mixed up together like shavings in a saw-pit. They twirled round and round so often that it made the Hell-horse feel quite giddy and unwell and he had to leave the table.

“Prrrrr!” said the old Trold. “There is some life in those legs, but what else can they do besides dancing and pointing their toes and all those whirligigs?”

“We will soon shew you!” said the Elf-king, and he called out his youngest daughter; she was thin and transparent as moonshine, and was the most ethereal of all the daughters. She put a little white stick in her mouth and vanished instantly; this was her accomplishment.

But the Trold said he did not like that accomplishment in a wife, nor did he think his boys would appreciate it. The second one could walk by her own side as if she had a shadow, and no elves have shadows.

The third was quite different; she had studied in the marsh witches’ brewery, and understood larding alder stumps with glow-worms.

“She will be a good housewife,” said the Trold, and then he saluted her with his eyes instead of drinking her health, for he did not want to drink too much.

Now came the turn of the fourth; she had a big golden harp to play, and when she touched the first string everybody lifted up their left legs (for all the elfin folk are left legged). But when she touched the second string everybody had to do what she wished.

“She is a dangerous woman!” said the Trold, but both his sons left the hill, for they were tired of it all.

“And what can the next daughter do?” asked the old Trold.

“I have learnt to like the Norwegians,” she said, “and I shall never marry unless I can go to Norway!”

But the smallest of the sisters whispered to the Trold, “that is only because she once heard a song which said that when the world came to an end, the rocks of Norway would still stand, and that is why she wants to go there, she is so afraid of being exterminated.”

“Ho, ho!” said the Trold, “so that slipped out. But what can the seventh do?”

“The sixth comes before the seventh,” said the Elf-king, for he could reckon, but she would not come forward.

“I can only tell people the truth,” she said. “Nobody cares for me, and I have enough to do in making my winding sheet.”

[Illustration: Preserve us how nimble they were on their legs]

Now came the seventh and last, what could she do? Well she could tell stories as many as ever she liked.

“Here are my five fingers,” said the old Trold, “tell me a story for each one.”

The elf-maiden took hold of his wrist, and he chuckled and laughed, till he nearly choked. When she came to the fourth finger, which had a gold ring on it, as if it knew there was to be a betrothal, the Trold said, “Hold fast what you have got, the hand is yours, I will have you for a wife myself!” The elf-maiden said that the stories about Guldbrand, the fourth finger, and little Peter Playman, the fifth, had not yet been told.

“Never mind, keep those till winter. Then you shall tell us about the fir, and the birch, and the fairy gifts, and the tingling frost. You shall have every opportunity of telling us stories; nobody up there does it yet. We will sit in the Stone Hall, where the pine logs blaze, and drink mead out of the golden horns of the old Norwegian kings. The river god gave me a couple. When we sit there the mountain sprite comes to pay us a visit, and he will sing you the songs of the Sæter girls. The salmon will leap in the waterfalls, and beat against the stone wall, but it won’t get in. Ah, you may believe me when I say that we lead a merry life there in good old Norway. But where are the lads?”

Yes, where were the lads? They were running about the fields, blowing out the will-o’-the-wisps, who came so willingly for the torchlight procession.

“Why do you gad about out there?” said the Trold. “I have taken a mother for you, now you can come and take one of the aunts.”

But the lads said they would rather make a speech, and drink toasts; they had no wish to marry. Then they made their speeches, and drank toasts and tipped their glasses up to shew that they had emptied them. After that they pulled off their coats and went to sleep on the table, to show that they were quite at home. But the old Trold danced round and round the room with his young bride, and exchanged boots with her, which was grander than exchanging rings.

“There is the cock crowing!” said the old housekeeper. “Now we must shut the shutters, so that the sun may not burn us up.”

Then the hill closed up. But the lizards went on running up and down the clefts of the tree; and they said to each other, “Ah, how much I liked the old Trold.”

[Illustration: “I like the boys better,” said the earthworm]

“I liked the boys better,” said the earthworm, “but then it couldn’t see, poor, miserable creature that it was.”

* * * * *

“That reminds me of another story,” said the French Fay, who had already told one story, but was evidently ready and willing to tell another.

“We don’t want to hear two stories that are like each other,” said King Oberon.

“Please your Majesty it is not like that which the Danish Elf has just told, only his one reminded me of mine,” answered the Fay.

“What is it about?” enquired the Queen who remembered how much she had liked the dainty little creature’s first tale.

“It is a story showing how that which is ugly may become beautiful through love,” readily responded the French Fay.

“Let us hear it,” said Oberon, “if my Titania wishes it.”

Titania having answered that she certainly _did_ wish it, the Fay sprang lightly to the stool and began telling the pretty little love story of

[Illustration: The French Fay]

[Illustration: It was doubted whether his form were really human]

Riquet with the Tuft

Once upon a time there was a Queen who had a son, so ugly and misshapen, that it was doubted for a long time whether his form was really human. A fairy, who was present at his birth, affirmed, nevertheless, that he would be worthy to be loved, as he would have an excellent wit; she added, moreover, that by virtue of the gift she had bestowed upon him, he would be able to impart equal intelligence to the one whom he loved best. All this was some consolation to the poor Queen, who was much distressed at having brought so ugly a little monkey into the world. It is true that the child was no sooner able to speak than he said a thousand pretty things, and that in all his ways there was a certain air of intelligence, with which everyone was charmed. I had forgotten to say that he was born with a little tuft of hair on his head, and so he came to be called Riquet with the Tuft; for Riquet was the family name.

About seven or eight years later, the Queen of a neighbouring kingdom had two daughters. The elder was fairer than the day, and the Queen was so delighted, that it was feared some harm might come to her from her great joy. The same fairy who had assisted at the birth of little Riquet, was present upon this occasion, and in order to moderate the joy of the Queen, she told her that this little Princess would have no gifts of mind at all, and that she would be as stupid as she was beautiful. The Queen was greatly mortified on hearing this, but, shortly after, she was even more annoyed, when her second little daughter was born and proved to be extremely ugly. “Do not distress yourself, madam,” said the fairy to her, “your daughter will find compensation, for she will have so much intelligence, that her lack of beauty will scarcely be perceived.”

“Heaven send it may be so,” replied the Queen; “but are there no means whereby a little more understanding might be given to the elder, who is so lovely?” “I can do nothing for her in the way of intelligence, madam,” said the fairy, “but everything in the way of beauty; as, however, there is nothing in my power I would not do to give you comfort, I will bestow on her the power of conferring beauty on any man or woman who shall please her.” As these two Princesses grew up, their endowments also became more perfect, and nothing was talked of anywhere but the beauty of the elder, and the intelligence of the younger. It is true that their defects also greatly increased with their years. The younger became uglier every moment, and the elder more stupid every day. She either made no answer when she was spoken to, or else said something foolish. With this she was so clumsy, that she could not even place four pieces of china on a mantelshelf, without breaking one of them, or drink a glass of water, without spilling half of it on her dress. Notwithstanding the attraction of beauty, the younger, in whatever society they might be, nearly always bore away the palm from her sister. At first everyone went up to the more beautiful, to gaze at and admire her; but they soon left her for the cleverer one, to listen to her many pleasant and amusing sayings; and people were astonished to find that in less than a quarter of an hour, the elder had not a soul near her, while all the company had gathered round the younger. The elder, though very stupid, noticed this, and would have given, without regret, all her beauty, for half the sense of her sister. Discreet as she was, the Queen could not help often reproaching her with her stupidity, which made the poor Princess ready to die of grief.

One day, when she had gone by herself into a wood, to weep over her misfortune, she saw approaching her, a little man of very ugly and unpleasant appearance, but magnificently dressed. It was the young Prince Riquet with the Tuft, who, having fallen in love with her from seeing her portraits, which were sent all over the world, had left his father’s kingdom that he might have the pleasure of beholding her and speaking to her. Enchanted at meeting her thus alone, he addressed her with all the respect and politeness imaginable. Having remarked, after paying her the usual compliments, that she was very melancholy, he said to her, “I cannot understand, madam, how a person so beautiful as you are can be so unhappy as you appear; for, although I can boast of having seen an infinite number of beautiful people, I can say with truth that I have never seen one whose beauty could be compared with yours.”

“You are pleased to say so, sir,” replied the Princess, and there she stopped.

“Beauty,” continued Riquet, “is so great an advantage, that it ought to take the place of every other, and, possessed of it, I see nothing that can have power to afflict one.”

“I would rather,” said the Princess, “be as ugly as you are, and have intelligence, than possess the beauty I do, and be so stupid as I am.”

“There is no greater proof of intelligence, madam, than the belief that we have it not; it is the nature of that gift, that the more we have, the more we believe ourselves to be without it.”

“I do not know how that may be,” said the Princess, “but I know well enough that I am very stupid, and that is the cause of the grief that is killing me.”

“If that is all that troubles you, madam, I can easily put an end to your sorrow.”

“And how would you do that?” said the Princess.

“I have the power, madam,” said Riquet with the Tuft, “to give as much intelligence as it is possible to possess, to the person whom I love best; as you, madam, are that person, it will depend entirely upon yourself, whether or not you become gifted with this amount of intelligence, provided that you are willing to marry me.”

The Princess was struck dumb with astonishment, and replied not a word.

“I see,” said Riquet with the Tuft, “that this proposal troubles you, and I am not surprised, but I will give you a full year to consider it.”

The Princess had so little sense, and at the same time was so anxious to have a great deal, that she thought the end of that year would never come; so she at once accepted the offer that was made her. She had no sooner promised Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him that day twelve months, than she felt herself quite another person.

She found she was able to say whatever she pleased, with a readiness past belief, and of saying it in a clever, but easy and natural manner. She immediately began a sprightly and well-sustained conversation with Riquet with the Tuft, and was so brilliant in her talk, that Riquet with the Tuft began to think he had given her more wit than he had reserved for himself. On her return to the palace, the whole Court was puzzled to account for a change so sudden and extraordinary; for the number of foolish things which they had been accustomed to hear from her, she now made as many sensible and exceedingly witty remarks. All the Court was in a state of joy not to be described. The younger sister alone was not altogether pleased, for, having lost her superiority over her sister in the way of intelligence, she now only appeared by her side as a very unpleasing-looking person.

The King now began to be guided by his elder daughter’s advice, and at times even held his Council in her apartments. The news of the change of affairs was spread abroad, and all the young princes of the neighbouring kingdoms exerted themselves to gain her affection, and nearly all of them asked her hand in marriage. She found none of them, however, intelligent enough to please her, and she listened to all of them, without engaging herself to one.

At length arrived a Prince, so rich and powerful, so clever and so handsome, that she could not help listening willingly to his addresses. Her father, having perceived this, told her that he left her at perfect liberty to choose a husband for herself, and that she had only to make known her decision. As the more intelligence we possess, the more difficulty we find in making up our mind on such a matter as this, she begged her father, after having thanked him, to allow her time to think about it.

She went, by chance, to walk in the same wood in which she had met Riquet with the Tuft, in order to meditate more uninterruptedly over what she had to do. While she was walking, deep in thought, she heard a dull sound beneath her feet, as of many persons running to and fro, and busily occupied. Having listened more attentively, she heard one say, “Bring me that saucepan;” another, “Give me that kettle;” another, “Put some wood on the fire.” At the same moment the ground opened, and she saw beneath her what appeared to be a large kitchen, full of cooks, scullions, and all sorts of servants necessary for the preparation of a magnificent banquet. There came forth a band of about twenty to thirty cooks, who went and established themselves in an avenue of the wood, at a very long table, and who, each with the larding-pin in his hand and the tail of his fur cap over his ear, set to work, keeping time to a harmonious song.

[Illustration: There came forth a band of cooks]

The Princess, astonished at this sight, asked the men for whom they were working.

“Madam,” replied the chief among them, “for Prince Riquet with the Tuft, whose marriage will take place to-morrow.” The Princess, still more surprised than she was before, and suddenly recollecting that it was just a twelvemonth from the day on which she had promised to marry Prince Riquet with the Tuft, was overcome with trouble and amazement. The reason of her not having remembered her promise was, that when she made it she had been a very foolish person, and when she became gifted with the new mind that the Prince had given her, she had forgotten all her follies.

She had not taken another thirty steps, when Riquet with the Tuft presented himself before her, gaily and splendidly attired, like a Prince about to be married. “You see, madam,” said he, “I keep my word punctually, and I doubt not that you have come thither to keep yours, and to make me, by the giving of your hand, the happiest of men.”

“I confess to you, frankly,” answered the Princess, “that I have not yet made up my mind on that matter, and that I do not think I shall ever be able to do so in the way you wish.” “You astonish me, madam,” said Riquet with the Tuft. “I have no doubt I do,” said the Princess; “and assuredly, had I to deal with a stupid person, with a man without intelligence, I should feel greatly perplexed. ‘A Princess is bound by her word,’ he would say to me, ‘and you must marry me, as you have promised to do so.’ But as the person to whom I speak is, of all men in the world, the one of greatest sense and understanding, I am certain he will listen to reason. You know that, when I was no better than a fool, I nevertheless could not decide to marry you--how can you expect, now that I have the mind which you have given me, and which renders me much more difficult to please than before, that I should take to-day a resolution which I could not then? If you seriously thought of marrying me, you did very wrong to take away my stupidity, and so enable me to see more clearly than I saw then.” “If a man without intelligence,” replied Riquet with the Tuft, “who reproached you with your breach of promise, might have a right, as you have just intimated, to be treated with indulgence, why would you, madam, that I should receive less consideration in a matter which affects the entire happiness of my life? Is it reasonable that persons of intellect should be in a worse position than those that have none? Can you assert this--you who have so much, and who so earnestly desired to possess it? But let us come to the point, if you please. Setting aside my ugliness, is there anything in me that displeases you? Are you dissatisfied with my birth, my understanding, my temper, or my manners?”

“Not in the least,” replied the Princess; “I admire in you everything you have mentioned.”

“If that is so,” rejoined Riquet with the Tuft, “I shall soon be happy, as you have it in your power to make me the most pleasing looking of men.”

“How can that be done?” asked the Princess.

“It can be done,” said Riquet with the Tuft, “if you love me sufficiently to wish that it should be. And, in order, madam, that you should have no doubt about it, know that the same fairy, who, on the day I was born, endowed me with the power to give intelligence to the person I chose, gave you also the power to render handsome the man you should love, and on whom you should wish to bestow this favour.”

“If such be the fact,” said the Princess, “I wish, with all my heart, that you should become the handsomest and most lovable Prince in the world, and I bestow the gift on you to the fullest extent in my power.”