|
Once upon
a time...
Over all the vast under-world the mountain Gnome Rubezahl was
lord; and busy enough the care of his dominions kept him. There were
the endless treasure chambers to be gone through, and the hosts of
gnomes to be kept to their tasks. Some built strong barriers to hold
back the fiery vapours to change dull stones to precious metal, or
were hard at work filling every cranny of the rocks with diamonds
and rubies; for Rubezahl loved all pretty things. Sometimes the
fancy would take him to leave those gloomy regions, and come out
upon the green earth for a while, and bask in the sunshine and hear
the birds sing. And as gnomes live many hundreds of years he saw
strange things. For, the first time he came up, the great hills were
covered with thick forests, in which wild animals roamed, and
Rubezahl watched the fierce fights between bear and bison, or chased
the grey wolves, or amused himself by rolling great rocks down into
the desolate valleys, to hear the thunder of their fall echoing
among the hills. But the next time he ventured above ground, what
was his surprise to find everything changed! The dark woods were
hewn down, and in their place appeared blossoming orchards
surrounding cosy-looking thatched cottages; for every chimney the
blue smoke curled peacefully into the air, sheep and oxen fed in the
flowery meadows, while from the shade of the hedges came the music
of the shepherd's pipe. The strangeness and pleasantness of the
sight so delighted the gnome that he never thought of resenting the
intrusion of these unexpected guests, who, without saying 'by your
leave' or 'with your leave,' had made themselves so very much at
home upon is hills; nor did he wish to interfere with their doings,
but left them in quiet possession of their homes, as a good
householder leaves in peace the swallows who have built their nests
under his eaves. He was indeed greatly minded to make friends with
this being called 'man,' so, taking the form of an old field
labourer, he entered the service of a farmer. Under his care all the
crops flourished exceedingly, but the master proved to be wasteful
and ungrateful, and Rubezahl soon left him, and went to be shepherd
to his next neighbour. He tended the flock so diligently, and knew
so well where to lead the sheep to the sweetest pastures, and where
among the hills to look for any who strayed away, that they too
prospered under his care, and not one was lost or torn by wolves;
but this new master was a hard man, and begrudged him his
well-earned wages. So he ran away and went to serve the judge. Here
he upheld the law with might and main, and was a terror to thieves
and evildoers; but the judge was a bad man, who took bribes, and
despised the law. Rubezahl would not be the tool of an unjust man,
and so he told his master, who thereupon ordered him to be thrown in
prison. Of course that did not trouble the gnome at all, he simply
got out through the keyhole, and went away down to his underground
palace, very much disappointed by his first experience of mankind.
But, as time went on, he forgot the disagreeable things that had
happened to him, and thought he would take another look at the upper
world.
So he stole into the valley, keeping himself carefully hidden in
copse or hedgerow, and very soon met with an adventure; for, peeping
through a screen of leaves, he saw before him a green lawn where
stood a charming maiden, fresh as the spring, and beautiful to look
upon. Around her upon the grass lay her young companions, as if they
had thrown themselves down to rest after some merry game. Beyond
them flowed a little brook, into which a waterfall leapt from a high
rock, filling the air with its pleasant sound, and making a coolness
even in the sultry noontide. The sight of the maiden so pleased the
gnome that, for the first time, he wished himself a mortal; and,
longing for a better view of the gay company, he changed himself
into a raven and perched upon an oaktree which overhung the brook.
But he soon found that this was not at all a good plan. He could
only see with a raven's eyes, and feel as a raven feels; and a nest
of field-mice at the foot of the tree interested him far more than
the sport of the maidens. When he understood this he flew down again
in a great hurry into the thicket, and took the form of a handsome
young man--that was the best way--and he fell in love with the girl
then and there. The fair maiden was the daughter of the king of the
country, and she often wandered in the forest with her play fellows
gathering the wild flowers and fruits, till the midday heat drove
the merry band to the shady lawn by the brook to rest, or to bathe
in the cool waters. On this particular morning the fancy took them
to wander off again into the wood. This was Master Rubezahl's
opportunity. Stepping out of his hiding-place he stood in the midst
of the little lawn, weaving his magic spells, till slowly all about
him changed, and when the maidens returned at noon to their
favourite resting- place they stood lost in amazement, and almost
fancied that they must be dreaming. The red rocks had become white
marble and alabaster; the stream that murmured and struggled before
in its rocky bed, flowed in silence now in its smooth channel, from
which a clear fountain leapt, to fall again in showers of diamond
drops, now on this side now on that, as the wandering breeze
scattered it.
Daisies and forget-me-nots fringed its brink, while tall hedges of
roses and jasmine ringed it round, making the sweetest and daintiest
bower imaginable. To the right and left of the waterfall opened out
a wonderful grotto, its walls and arches glittering with
many-coloured rock-crystals, while in every niche were spread out
strange fruits and sweetmeats, the very sight of which made the
princess long to taste them. She hesitated a while, however,
scarcely able to believe her eyes, and not knowing if she should
enter the enchanted spot or fly from it. But at length curiosity
prevailed, and she and her companions explored to their heart's
content, and tasted and examined everything, running hither and
thither in high glee, and calling merrily to each other.
At last, when they were quite weary, the princess cried out suddenly
that nothing would content her but to bathe in the marble pool,
which certainly did look very inviting; and they all went gaily to
this new amusement. The princess was ready first, but scarcely had
she slipped over the rim of the pool when down-- down--down she
sank, and vanished in its depths before her frightened playmates
could seize her by so much as a lock of her floating golden hair!
Loudly did they weep and wail, running about the brink of the pool,
which looked so shallow and so clear, but which had swallowed up
their princess before their eyes. They even sprang into the water
and tried to dive after her, but in vain; they only floated like
corks in the enchanted pool, and could not keep under water for a
second.
They saw at last that there was nothing for it but to carry to the
king the sad tidings of his beloved daughter's disappearance. And
what great weeping and lamentation there was in the palace when the
dreadful news was told! The king tore his robes, dashed his golden
crown from his head, and hid his face in his purple mantle for grief
and anguish at the loss of the princess. After the first outburst of
wailing, however, he took heart and hurried off to see for himself
the scene of this strange adventure, thinking, as people will in
sorrow, that there might be some mistake after all. But when he
reached the spot, behold, all was changed again! The glittering
grotto described to him by the maidens had completely vanished, and
so had the marble bath, the bower of jasmine; instead, all was a
tangle of flowers, as it had been of old. The king was so much
perplexed that he threatened the princess's playfellows with all
sorts of punishments if they would not confess something about her
disappearance; but as they only repeated the same story he presently
put down the whole affair to the work of some sprite or goblin, and
tried to console himself for his loss by ordering a grand hunt; for
kings cannot bear to be troubled about anything long.
Meanwhile the princess was not at all unhappy in the palace of her
elfish lover.
When the water-nymphs, who were hiding in readiness, had caught her
and dragged her out of the sight of her terrified maidens, she
herself had not had time to be frightened. They swam with her
quickly by strange underground ways to a palace so splendid that her
father's seemed but a poor cottage in comparison with it, and when
she recovered from her astonishment she found herself seated upon a
couch, wrapped in a wonderful robe of satin fastened with a silken
girdle, while beside her knelt a young man who whispered the
sweetest speeches imaginable in her ear. The gnome, for he it was,
told her all about himself and his great underground kingdom, and
presently led her through the many rooms and halls of the palace,
and showed her the rare and wonderful things displayed in them till
she was fairly dazzled at the sight of so much splendour. On three
sides of the castle lay a lovely garden with masses of gay, sweet
flowers, and velvet lawns all cool and shady, which pleased the eye
of the princess. The fruit trees were hung with golden and rosy
apples, and nightingales sang in every bush, as the gnome and the
princess wandered in the leafy alleys, sometimes gazing at the moon,
sometimes pausing to gather the rarest flowers for her adornment.
And all the time he was thinking to himself that never, during the
hundreds of years he had lived, had he seen so charming a maiden.
But the princess felt no such happiness; in spite of all the magic
delights around her she was sad, though she tried to seem content
for fear of displeasing the gnome. However, he soon perceived her
melancholy, and in a thousand ways strove to dispel the cloud, but
in vain. At last he said to himself: 'Men are sociable creatures,
like bees or ants. Doubtless this lovely mortal is pining for
company. Who is there I can find for her to talk to?'
Thereupon he hastened into the nearest filed and dug up a dozen or
so of different roots--carrots, turnips, and radishes--and laying
them carefully in an elegant basket brought them to the princess,
who sat pensive in the shade of the rose-bower.
'Loveliest daughter of earth,' said the gnome, 'banish all sorrow;
no more shall you be lonely in my dwelling. In this basket is all
you need to make this spot delightful to you. Take this little
many-coloured wand, and with a touch give to each root the form you
desire to see.'
With this he left her, and the princess, without an instant's delay,
opened the basket, and touching a turnip, cried eagerly: 'Brunhilda,
my dear Brunhilda! come to me quickly!' And sure enough there was
Brunhilda, joyfully hugging and kissing her beloved princess, and
chattering as gaily as in the old days.
This sudden appearance was so delightful that the princess could
hardly believe her own eyes, and was quite beside herself with the
joy of having her dear playfellow with her once more. Hand in hand
they wandered about the enchanted garden, and gathered the golden
apples from the trees, and when they were tired of this amusement
the princess led her friend through all the wonderful rooms of the
palace, until at last they came to the one in which were kept all
the marvellous dresses and ornaments the gnome had given to his
hoped-for bride. There they found so much to amuse them that the
hours passed like minutes. Veils, girdles, and necklaces were tried
on and admired, the imitation Brunhilda knew so well how to behave
herself, and showed so much taste that nobody would ever have
suspected that she was nothing but a turnip after all. The gnome,
who had secretly been keeping an eye upon them, was very pleased
with himself for having so well understood the heart of a woman; and
the princess seemed to him even more charming than before. She did
not forget to touch the rest of the roots with her magic wand, and
soon had all her maidens about her, and even, as she had two tiny
radishes to spare, her favourite cat, and her little dog whose name
was Beni.
And now all went cheerfully in the castle. The princess gave to each
of the maidens her task, and never was mistress better served. For a
whole week she enjoyed the delight of her pleasant company
undisturbed. They all sang, they danced, they played from morning to
night; only the princess noticed that day by day the fresh young
faces of her maidens grew pale and wan, and the mirror in the great
marble hall showed her that she alone still kept her rosy bloom,
while Brunhilda and the rest faded visibly. They assured her that
all was well with them; but, nevertheless, they continued to waste
away, and day by day it became harder to them to take part in the
games of the princess, till at last, one fine morning, when the
princess started from bed and hastened out to join her gay
playfellows, she shuddered and started back at the sight of a group
of shrivelled crones, with bent backs and trembling limbs, who
supported their tottering steps with staves and crutches, and
coughed dismally. A little nearer to the hearth lay the once
frolicsome Beni, with all four feet stretched stiffly out, while the
sleek cat seemed too weak to raise his head from his velvet cushion.
The horrified princess fled to the door to escape from the sight of
this mournful company, and called loudly for the gnome, who appeared
at once, humbly anxious to do her bidding.
'Malicious Sprite,' she cried, 'why do you begrudge me my playmates
--the greatest delight of my lonely hours? Isn't this solitary life
in such a desert bad enough without your turning the castle into a
hospital for the aged? Give my maidens back their youth and health
this very minute, or I will never love you!'
'Sweetest and fairest of damsels,' cried the gnome, 'do not be
angry; everything that is in my power I will do--but do not ask the
impossible. So long as the sap was fresh in the roots the magic
staff could keep them in the forms you desired, but as the sap dried
up they withered away. But never trouble yourself about that,
dearest one, a basket of fresh turnips will soon set matters right,
and you can speedily call up again every form you wish to see. The
great green patch in the garden will prove you with a more lively
company.'
So saying the gnome took himself off. And the princess with her
magic wand touched the wrinkled old women, and left them the
withered roots they really were, to be thrown upon the rubbish heap;
and with light feet skipped off across to the meadow to take
possession of the freshly filled basket. But to her surprise she
could not find it anywhere. Up and down the garden she searched,
spying into every corner, but not a sign of it was to be found. By
the trellis of grape vines she met the gnome, who was so much
embarrassed at the sight of her that she became aware of his
confusion while he was still quite a long way off.
'You are trying to tease me,' she cried, as soon as she saw him.
'Where have you hidden the basket? I have been looking for it at
least an hour.'
'Dear queen of my heart,' answered he, 'I pray you to forgive my
carelessness. I promised more than I could perform. I have sought
all over the land for the roots you desire; but they are gathered
in, and lie drying in musty cellars, and the fields are bare and
desolate, for below in the valley winter reigns, only here in your
presence spring is held fast, and wherever your foot is set the gay
flowers bloom. Have patience for a little, and then without fail you
shall have your puppets to play with.'
Almost before the gnome had finished, the disappointed princess
turned away, and marched off to her own apartments, without deigning
to answer him.
The gnome, however, set off above ground as speedily as possible,
and disguising himself as a farmer, bought an ass in the nearest
market-town, and brought it back loaded with sacks of turnip,
carrot, and radish seed. With this he sowed a great field, and sent
a vast army of his goblins to watch and tend it, and to bring up the
fiery rivers from the heart of the earth near enough to warm and
encourage the sprouting seeds. Thus fostered they grew and
flourished marvellously, and promised a goodly crop.
The princess wandered about the field day by day, no other plants or
fruits in all her wonderful garden pleased her as much as these
roots; but still her eyes were full of discontent. And, best of all,
she loved to while away the hours in a shady fir- wood, seated upon
the bank of a little stream, into which she would cast the flowers
she had gathered and watch them float away.
The gnome tried hard by every means in his power to please the
princess and win her love, but little did he guess the real reason
of his lack of success. He imagined that she was too young and
inexperienced to care for him; but that was a mistake, for the truth
was that another image already filled her heart. The young Prince
Ratibor, whose lands joined her father's, had won the heart of the
princess; and the lovers had been looking forward to the coming of
their wedding-day when the bride's mysterious disappearance took
place. The sad news drove Ratibor distracted, and as the days went
on, and nothing could be heard of the princess, he forsook his
castle and the society of men, and spent his days in the wild
forests, roaming about and crying her name aloud to the trees and
rocks. Meanwhile, the maiden, in her gorgeous prison, sighed in
secret over her grief, not wishing to arouse the gnome's suspicions.
In her own mind she was wondering if by any means she might escape
from her captivity, and at last she hit upon a plan.
By this time spring once more reigned in the valley, and the gnome
sent the fires back to their places in the deeps of the earth, for
the roots which they had kept warm through all the cruel winter hand
now come to their full size. Day by day the princess pulled up some
of them, and made experiments with them, conjuring up now this
longed-for person, and now that, just for the pleasure of seeing
them as they appeared; but she really had another purpose in view.
One day she changed a tiny turnip into a bee, and sent him off to
bring her some news of her lover.
'Fly, dear little bee, towards the east,' said she, 'to my beloved
Ratibor, and softly hum into his ear that I love him only, but that
I am a captive in the gnome's palace under the mountains. Do not
forget a single word of my greeting, and bring me back a message
from my beloved.'
So the bee spread his shining wings and flew away to do as he was
bidden; but before he was out of sight a greedy swallow made a
snatch at him, and to the great grief of the princess her messenger
was eaten up then and there.
After that, by the power of the wonderful wand she summoned a
cricket, and taught him this greeting:
'Hop, little cricket, to Ratibor, and chirp in his ear that I love
him only, but that I am held captive by the gnome in his palace
under the mountains.'
So the cricket hopped off gaily, determined to do his best to
deliver his message; but, alas! a long-legged stork who was prancing
along the same road caught him in her cruel beak, and before he
could say a word he had disappeared down her throat.
These two unlucky ventures did not prevent the princess from trying
once more.
This time she changed the turnip into a magpie.
'Flutter from tree to tree, chattering bird,' said she, 'till you
come to Ratibor, my love. Tell him that I am a captive, and bid him
come with horses and men, the third day from this, to the hill that
rises from the Thorny Valley.'
The magpie listened, hopped awhile from branch to branch, and then
darted away, the princess watching him anxiously as far as she could
see.
Now Prince Ratibor was still spending his life in wandering about
the woods, and not even the beauty of the spring could soothe his
grief.
One day, as he sat in the shade of an oak tree, dreaming of his lost
princess, and sometimes crying her name aloud, he seemed to hear
another voice reply to his, and, starting up, he gazed around him,
but he could see no one, and he had just made up his mind that he
must be mistaken, when the same voice called again, and, looking up
sharply, he saw a magpie which hopped to and fro among the twigs.
Then Ratibor heard with surprise that the bird was indeed calling
him by name.
'Poor chatterpie,' said he; 'who taught you to say that name, which
belongs to an unlucky mortal who wishes the earth would open and
swallow up him and his memory for ever?'
Thereupon he caught up a great stone, and would have hurled it at
the magpie, if it had not at that moment uttered the name of the
princess.
This was so unexpected that the prince's arm fell helplessly to his
side at the sound, and he stood motionless.
But the magpie in the tree, who, like all the rest of his family,
was not happy unless he could be for ever chattering, began to
repeat the message the princess had taught him; and as soon as he
understood it, Prince Ratibor's heart was filed with joy. All his
gloom and misery vanished in a moment, and he anxiously questioned
the welcome messenger as to the fate of the princess.
But the magpie knew no more than the lesson he had learnt, so he
soon fluttered away; while the prince hurried back to his castle to
gather together a troop of horsemen, full of courage for whatever
might befall.
The princess meanwhile was craftily pursuing her plan of escape. She
left off treating the gnome with coldness and indifference; indeed,
there was a look in her eyes which encouraged him to hope that she
might some day return his love, and the idea pleased him mightily.
The next day, as soon as the sun rose, she made her appearance
decked as a bride, in the wonderful robes and jewels which the fond
gnome had prepared for her. Her golden hair was braided and crowned
with myrtle blossoms, and her flowing veil sparkled with gems. In
these magnificent garments she went to meet the gnome upon the great
terrace.
'Loveliest of maidens,' he stammered, bowing low before her, 'let me
gaze into your dear eyes, and read in them that you will no longer
refuse my love, but will make me the happiest being the sun shines
upon.'
So saying he would have drawn aside her veil; but the princess only
held it more closely about her.
'Your constancy has overcome me,' she said; 'I can no longer oppose
your wishes. But believe my words, and suffer this veil still to
hide my blushes and tears.'
'Why tears, beloved one?' cried the gnome anxiously; 'every tear of
yours falls upon my heart like a drop of molten gold. Greatly as I
desire your love, I do not ask a sacrifice.'
'Ah!' cried the false princess, 'why do you misunderstand my tears?
My heart answers to your tenderness, and yet I am fearful. A wife
cannot always charm, and though YOU will never alter, the beauty of
mortals is as a flower that fades. How can I be sure that you will
always be as loving and charming as you are now?'
'Ask some proof, sweetheart,' said he. 'Put my obedience and my
patience to some test by which you can judge of my unalterable
love.'
'Be it so,' answered the crafty maiden. 'Then give me just one proof
of your goodness. Go! count the turnips in yonder meadow. My wedding
feast must not lack guests. They shall provide me with bride-maidens
too. But beware lest you deceive me, and do not miss a single one.
That shall be the test of your truth towards me.'
Unwilling as the gnome was to lose sight of his beautiful bride for
a moment, he obeyed her commands without delay, and hurried off to
begin his task. He skipped along among the turnips as nimble as a
grasshopper, and had soon counted them all; but, to be quite certain
that he had made no mistake, he thought he would just run over them
again. This time, to his great annoyance, the number was different;
so he reckoned them for the third time, but now the number was not
the same as either of the previous ones! And this was hardly to be
wondered at, as his mind was full of the princess's pretty looks and
words.
As for the maiden, no sooner was her deluded lover fairly out of
sight than she began to prepare for flight. She had a fine fresh
turnip hidden close at hand, which she changed into a spirited
horse, all saddled and bridled, and, springing upon its back, she
galloped away over hill and dale till she reached the Thorny Valley,
and flung herself into the arms of her beloved Prince Ratibor.
Meanwhile the toiling gnome went through his task over and over
again till his back ached and his head swam, and he could no longer
put two and two together; but as he felt tolerably certain of the
exact number of turnips in the field, big and little together, he
hurried back eager to prove to his beloved one what a delightful and
submissive husband he would be. He felt very well satisfied with
himself as he crossed the mossy lawn to the place where he had left
her; but, alas! she was no longer there.
He searched every thicket and path, he looked behind every tree, and
gazed into every pond, but without success; then he hastened into
the palace and rushed from room to room, peering into every hole and
corner and calling her by name; but only echo answered in the marble
halls--there was neither voice nor footstep.
Then he began to perceive that something was amiss, and, throwing
off the mortal form that encumbered him, he flew out of the palace,
and soared high into the air, and saw the fugitive princess in the
far distance just as the swift horse carried her across the boundary
of his dominions.
Furiously did the enraged gnome fling two great clouds together, and
hurl a thunderbolt after the flying maiden, splintering the rocky
barriers which had stood a thousand years. But his fury was vain,
the thunderclouds melted away into a soft mist, and the gnome, after
flying about for a while in despair, bewailing to the four winds his
unhappy fate, went sorrowfully back to the palace, and stole once
more through every room, with many sighs and lamentations. He passed
through the gardens which for him had lost their charm, and the
sight of the princess's footprints on the golden sand of the pathway
renewed his grief. All was lonely, empty, sorrowful; and the
forsaken gnome resolved that he would have no more dealings with
such false creatures as he had found men to be.
Thereupon he stamped three times upon the earth, and the magic
palace, with all its treasures, vanished away into the nothingness
out of which he had called it; and the gnome fled once more to the
depths of his underground kingdom.
While all this was happening, Prince Ratibor was hurrying away with
his prize to a place of safety. With great pomp and triumph he
restored the lovely princess to her father, and was then and there
married to her, and took her back with him to his own castle.
But long after she was dead, and her children too, the villagers
would tell the tale of her imprisonment underground, as they sat
carving wood in the winter nights.
Rubezahl
from the Brown Fairy Book
Story Edited
by Andrew Lang |
