The Golden Branch

THE GOLDEN BRANCH

Once upon a time there was a King who was so morose and disagreeable

that he was feared by all his subjects, and with good reason, as for

the most trifling offences he would have their heads cut off. This King

Grumpy, as he was called, had one son, who was as different from his

father as he could possibly be. No prince equalled him in cleverness

and kindness of heart, but unfortunately he was most terribly ugly. He

had crooked legs and squinting eyes, a large mouth all on one side, and

a hunchback. Never was there a beautiful soul in such a frightful

little body, but in spite of his appearance everybody loved him. The

Queen, his mother, called him Curlicue, because it was a name she

rather liked, and it seemed to suit him.

King Grumpy, who cared a great deal more for his own grandeur than for

his son’s happiness, wished to betroth the Prince to the daughter of a

neighbouring King, whose great estates joined his own, for he thought

that this alliance would make him more powerful than ever, and as for

the Princess she would do very well for Prince Curlicue, for she was as

ugly as himself. Indeed, though she was the most amiable creature in

the world, there was no concealing the fact that she was frightful, and

so lame that she always went about with a crutch, and people called her

Princess Cabbage-Stalk.

The King, having asked for and received a portrait of this Princess,

had it placed in his great hall under a canopy, and sent for Prince

Curlicue, to whom he said that as this was the portrait of his future

bride, he hoped the Prince found it charming.

The Prince after one glance at it turned away with a disdainful air,

which greatly offended his father.

‘Am I to understand that you are not pleased?’ he said very sharply.

‘No, sire,’ replied the Prince. ‘How could I be pleased to marry an

ugly, lame Princess?’

‘Certainly it is becoming in you to object to that,’ said King

Grumpy, ‘since you are ugly enough to frighten anyone yourself.’

‘That is the very reason,’ said the Prince, ‘that I wish to marry

someone who is not ugly. I am quite tired enough of seeing myself.’

‘I tell you that you shall marry her,’ cried King Grumpy angrily.

And the Prince, seeing that it was of no use to remonstrate, bowed and

retired.

As King Grumpy was not used to being contradicted in anything, he was

very much displeased with his son, and ordered that he should be

imprisoned in the tower that was kept on purpose for rebellious

Princes, but had not been used for about two hundred years, because

there had not been any. The Prince thought all the rooms looked

strangely old-fashioned, with their antique furniture, but as there was

a good library he was pleased, for he was very fond of reading, and he

soon got permission to have as many books as he liked. But when he

looked at them he found that they were written in a forgotten language,

and he could not understand a single word, though he amused himself

with trying.

King Grumpy was so convinced that Prince Curlicue would soon get tired

of being in prison, and so consent to marry the Princess Cabbage-Stalk,

that he sent ambassadors to her father proposing that she should come

and be married to his son, who would make her perfectly happy.

The King was delighted to receive so good an offer for his unlucky

daughter, though, to tell the truth, he found it impossible to admire

the Prince’s portrait which had been sent to him. However, he had it

placed in as favourable a light as possible, and sent for the Princess,

but the moment she caught sight of it she looked the other way and

began to cry. The King, who was very much annoyed to see how greatly

she disliked it, took a mirror, and holding it up before the unhappy

Princess, said:

‘I see you do not think the Prince handsome, but look at yourself, and

see if you have any right to complain about that.’

‘Sire,’ she answered, ‘I do not wish to complain, only I beg of you do

not make me marry at all. I had rather be the unhappy Princess

Cabbage-Stalk all my life than inflict the sight of my ugliness on

anyone else.’

But the King would not listen to her, and sent her away with the

ambassadors.

In the meantime the Prince was kept safely locked up in his tower, and,

that he might be as dull as possible, King Grumpy ordered that no one

should speak to him, and that they should give him next to nothing to

eat. But all the Prince’s guards were so fond of him that they did

everything they dared, in spite of the King, to make the time pass

pleasantly.

One day, as the Prince was walking up and down the great gallery,

thinking how miserable it was to be so ugly, and to be forced to marry

an equally frightful Princess, he looked up suddenly and noticed that

the painted windows were particularly bright and beautiful, and for the

sake of doing something that would change his sad thoughts he began to

examine them attentively. He found that the pictures seemed to be

scenes from the life of a man who appeared in every window, and the

Prince, fancying that he saw in this man some resemblance to himself,

began to be deeply interested. In the first window there was a picture

of him in one of the turrets of the tower, farther on he was seeking

something in a chink in the wall, in the next picture he was opening an

old cabinet with a golden key, and so it went on through numbers of

scenes, and presently the Prince noticed that another figure occupied

the most important place in each scene, and this time it was a tall

handsome young man: poor Prince Curlicue found it a pleasure to look at

him, he was so straight and strong. By this time it had grown dark, and

the Prince had to go back to his own room, and to amuse himself he took

up a quaint old book and began to look at the pictures. But his

surprise was great to find that they represented the same scenes as the

windows of the gallery, and what was more, that they seemed to be

alive. In looking at pictures of musicians he saw their hands move and

heard sweet sounds; there was a picture of a ball, and the Prince could

watch the little dancing people come and go. He turned a page, and

there was an excellent smell of a savoury dinner, and one of the

figures who sat at the feast looked at him and said:

‘We drink your health, Curlicue. Try to give us our Queen again, for if

you do you will be rewarded; if not, it will be the worse for you.’

At these words the Prince, who had been growing more and more

astonished, was fairly terrified, and dropping the book with a crash he

sank back insensible. The noise he made brought his guards to his aid,

and as soon as he revived they asked him what was the matter. He

answered that he was so faint and giddy with hunger that he had

imagined he saw and heard all sorts of strange things. Thereupon, in

spite of the King’s orders, the guards gave him an excellent supper,

and when he had eaten it he again opened his book, but could see none

of the wonderful pictures, which convinced him that he must have been

dreaming before.

However, when he went into he gallery next day and looked at the

painted windows again, he found that they moved, and the figures came

and went as if they had been alive, and after watching the one who was

like himself find the key in the crack of the turret wall and open the

old cabinet, he determined to go and examine the place himself, and try

to find out what the mystery was. So he went up into the turret and

began to search about and tap upon the walls, and all at once he came

upon a place that sounded hollow. Taking a hammer he broke away a bit

of the stone, and found behind it a little golden key. The next thing

to do was to find the cabinet, and the Prince soon came to it, hidden

away in a dark corner, though indeed it was so old and battered-looking

that he would never have noticed it of his own accord. At first he

could not see any keyhole, but after a careful search he found one

hidden in the carving, and the golden key just fitted it; so the Prince

gave it a vigorous turn and the doors flew open.

Ugly and old as the cabinet was outside, nothing could have been more

rich and beautiful than what met the Prince’s astonished eyes. Every

drawer was made of crystal, of amber, or of some precious stone, and

was quite full of every kind of treasure. Prince Curlicue was

delighted; he opened one after another, until at last he came to one

tiny drawer which contained only an emerald key.

‘I believe that this must open that little golden door in the middle,’

said the Prince to himself. And he fitted in the little key and turned

it. The tiny door swung back, and a soft crimson light gleamed over the

whole cabinet. The Prince found that it proceeded from an immense

glowing carbuncle, made into a box, which lay before him. He lost no

time in opening it, but what was his horror when he found that it

contained a man’s hand, which was holding a portrait. His first thought

was to put back the terrible box and fly from the turret; but a voice

in his ear said, ‘This hand belonged to one whom you can help and

restore. Look at this beautiful portrait, the original of which was the

cause of all my misfortunes, and if you wish to help me, go without a

moment’s delay to the great gallery, notice where the sun’s rays fall

most brightly, and if you seek there you will find my treasure.’

The voice ceased, and though the Prince in his bewilderment asked

various questions, he received no answer. So he put back the box and

locked the cabinet up again, and, having replaced the key in the crack

in the wall, hastened down to the gallery.

When he entered it all the windows shook and clattered in the strangest

way, but the Prince did not heed them; he was looking so carefully for

the place where the sun shone most brightly, and it seemed to him that

it was upon the portrait of a most splendidly handsome young man.

He went up and examined it, and found that it rested against the ebony

and gold panelling, just like any of the other pictures in the gallery.

He was puzzled, not knowing what to do next, until it occurred to him

to see if the windows would help him, and, looking at the nearest, he

saw a picture of himself lifting the picture from the wall.

The Prince took the hint, and lifting aside the picture without

difficulty, found himself in a marble hall adorned with statues; from

this he passed on through numbers of splendid rooms, until at last he

reached one all hung with blue gauze. The walls were of turquoises, and

upon a low couch lay a lovely lady, who seemed to be asleep. Her hair,

black as ebony, was spread across the pillows, making her face look

ivory white, and the Prince noticed that she was unquiet; and when he

softly advanced, fearing to wake her, he could hear her sigh, and

murmur to herself:

‘Ah! how dared you think to win my love by separating me from my

beloved Florimond, and in my presence cutting off that dear hand that

even you should have feared and honoured?’

And then the tears rolled slowly down the lovely lady’s cheeks, and

Prince Curlicue began to comprehend that she was under an enchantment,

and that it was the hand of her lover that he had found.

At this moment a huge Eagle flew into the room, holding in its talons a

Golden Branch, upon which were growing what looked like clusters of

cherries, only every cherry was a single glowing ruby.

This he presented to the Prince, who guessed by this time that he was

in some way to break the enchantment that surrounded the sleeping lady.

Taking the branch he touched her lightly with it, saying:

‘Fair one, I know not by what enchantment thou art bound, but in the

name of thy beloved Florimond I conjure thee to come back to the life

which thou hast lost, but not forgotten.’

Instantly the lady opened her lustrous eyes, and saw the Eagle hovering

near.

‘Ah! stay, dear love, stay,’ she cried. But the Eagle, uttering a

dolorous cry, fluttered his broad wings and disappeared. Then the lady

turned to Prince Curlicue, and said:

‘I know that it is to you I owe my deliverance from an enchantment

which has held me for two hundred years. If there is anything that I

can do for you in return, you have only to tell me, and all my fairy

power shall be used to make you happy.’

‘Madam,’ said Prince Curlicue, ‘I wish to be allowed to restore your

beloved Florimond to his natural form, since I cannot forget the tears

you shed for him.’

‘That is very amiable of you, dear Prince,’ said the Fairy, ‘but it is

reserved for another person to do that. I cannot explain more at

present. But is there nothing you wish for yourself?’

‘Madam,’ cried the Prince, flinging himself down at her feet, ‘only

look at my ugliness. I am called Curlicue, and am an object of

derision; I entreat you to make me less ridiculous.’

‘Rise, Prince,’ said the Fairy, touching him with the Golden Branch.

‘Be as accomplished as you are handsome, and take the name of Prince

Peerless, since that is the only title which will suit you now.’

Silent from joy, the Prince kissed her hand to express his thanks, and

when he rose and saw his new reflection in the mirrors which surrounded

him, he understood that Curlicue was indeed gone for ever.

‘How I wish,’ said the Fairy, ‘that I dared to tell you what is in

store for you, and warn you of the traps which lie in your path, but I

must not. Fly from the tower, Prince, and remember that the Fairy

Douceline will be your friend always.’

When she had finished speaking, the Prince, to his great astonishment,

found himself no longer in the tower, but set down in a thick forest at

least a hundred leagues away from it. And there we must leave him for

the present, and see what was happening elsewhere.

When the guards found that the Prince did not ask for his supper as

usual, they went into his room, and not finding him there, were very

much alarmed, and searched the tower from turret to dungeon, but

without success. Knowing that the King would certainly have their heads

cut off for allowing the Prince to escape, they then agreed to say that

he was ill, and after making the smallest among them look as much like

Prince Curlicue as possible, they put him into his bed and sent to

inform the King.

King Grumpy was quite delighted to hear that his son was ill, for he

thought that he would all the sooner be brought to do as he wished, and

marry the Princess. So he sent back to the guards to say that the

Prince was to be treated as severely as before, which was just what

they had hoped he would say. In the meantime the Princess Cabbage-Stalk

had reached the palace, travelling in a litter.

King Grumpy went out to meet her, but when he saw her, with a skin like

a tortoise’s, her thick eyebrows meeting above her large nose, and her

mouth from ear to ear, he could not help crying out:

‘Well, I must say Curlicue is ugly enough, but I don’t think you need

have thought twice before consenting to marry him.’

‘Sire,’ she replied, ‘I know too well what I am like to be hurt by what

you say, but I assure you that I have no wish to marry your son I had

rather be called Princess Cabbage-Stalk than Queen Curlicue.’

This made King Grumpy very angry.

‘Your father has sent you here to marry my son,’ he said, ‘and you may

be sure that I am not going to offend him by altering his

arrangements.’ So the poor Princess was sent away in disgrace to her

own apartments, and the ladies who attended upon her were charged to

bring her to a better mind.

At this juncture the guards, who were in great fear that they would be

found out, sent to tell the King that his son was dead, which annoyed

him very much. He at once made up his mind that it was entirely the

Princess’s fault, and gave orders that she should be imprisoned in the

tower in Prince Curlicue’s place. The Princess Cabbage-Stalk was

immensely astonished at this unjust proceeding, and sent many messages

of remonstrance to King Grumpy, but he was in such a temper that no one

dared to deliver them, or to send the letters which the Princess wrote

to her father. However, as she did not know this, she lived in hope of

soon going back to her own country, and tried to amuse herself as well

as she could until the time should come. Every day she walked up and

down the long gallery, until she too was attracted and fascinated by

the ever-changing pictures in the windows, and recognised herself in

one of the figures. ‘They seem to have taken a great delight in

painting me since I came to this country,’ she said to herself. ‘One

would think that I and my crutch were put in on purpose to make that

slim, charming young shepherdess in the next picture look prettier by

contrast. Ah! how nice it would be to be as pretty as that.’ And then

she looked at herself in a mirror, and turned away quickly with tears

in her eyes from the doleful sight. All at once she became aware that

she was not alone, for behind her stood a tiny old woman in a cap, who

was as ugly again as herself and quite as lame.

‘Princess,’ she said, ‘your regrets are so piteous that I have come to

offer you the choice of goodness or beauty. If you wish to be pretty

you shall have your way, but you will also be vain, capricious, and

frivolous. If you remain as you are now, you shall be wise and amiable

and modest.’

‘Alas! madam,’ cried the Princess, ‘is it impossible to be at once

wise and beautiful?’

‘No, child,’ answered the old woman, ‘only to you it is decreed that

you must choose between the two. See, I have brought with me my white

and yellow muff. Breathe upon the yellow side and you will become like

the pretty shepherdess you so much admire, and you will have won the

love of the handsome shepherd whose picture I have already seen you

studying with interest. Breathe upon the white side and your looks will

not alter, but you will grow better and happier day by day. Now you may

choose.’

‘Ah well,’ said the Princess, ‘I suppose one can’t have everything, and

it’s certainly better to be good than pretty.’

And so she breathed upon the white side of the muff and thanked the old

fairy, who immediately disappeared. The Princess Cabbage-Stalk felt

very forlorn when she was gone, and began to think that it was quite

time her father sent an army to rescue her.

‘If I could but get up into the turret,’ she thought, ‘to see if any

one is coming.’ But to climb up there seemed impossible. Nevertheless

she presently hit upon a plan. The great clock was in the turret, as

she knew, though the weights hung down into the gallery. Taking one of

them off the rope, she tied herself on in its place, and when the clock

was wound, up she went triumphantly into the turret. She looked out

over the country the first thing, but seeing nothing she sat down to

rest a little, and accidentally leant back against the wall which

Curlicue, or rather Prince Peerless, had so hastily mended. Out fell

the broken stone, and with it the golden key. The clatter it made upon

the floor attracted the Princess Cabbage-Stalk’s attention.

She picked it up, and after a moment’s consideration decided that it

must belong to the curious old cabinet in the corner, which had no

visible keyhole. And then it was not long before she had it open, and

was admiring the treasures it contained as much as Prince Peerless had

done before her, and at last she came to the carbuncle box. No sooner

had she opened it than with a shudder of horror she tried to throw it

down, but found that some mysterious power compelled her to hold it

against her will. And at this moment a voice in her ear said softly:

‘Take courage, Princess; upon this adventure your future happiness

depends.’

‘What am I to do?’ said the Princess trembling.

‘Take the box,’ replied the voice, ‘and hide it under your pillow, and

when you see an Eagle, give it to him without losing a moment.’

Terrified as the Princess was, she did not hesitate to obey, and

hastened to put back all the other precious things precisely as she had

found them. By this time her guards were seeking her everywhere, and

they were amazed to find her up in the turret, for they said she could

only have got there by magic. For three days nothing happened, but at

last in the night the Princess heard something flutter against her

window, and drawing back her curtains she saw in the moonlight that it

was an Eagle.

Limping across at her utmost speed she threw the window open, and the

great Eagle sailed in beating with his wings for joy. The Princess lost

no time in offering it the carbuncle box, which it grasped in its

talons, and instantly disappeared, leaving in its place the most

beautiful Prince she had ever seen, who was splendidly dressed, and

wore a diamond crown.

‘Princess,’ said he, ‘for two hundred years has a wicked enchanter kept

me here. We both loved the same Fairy, but she preferred me. However,

he was more powerful than I, and succeeded, when for a moment I was off

my guard, in changing me into an Eagle, while my Queen was left in an

enchanted sleep. I knew that after two hundred years a Prince would

recall her to the light of day, and a Princess, in restoring to me the

hand which my enemy had cut off, would give me back my natural form.

The Fairy who watches over your destiny told me this, and it was she

who guided you to the cabinet in the turret, where she had placed my

hand. It is she also who permits me to show my gratitude to you by

granting whatever favour you may ask of me. Tell me, Princess, what is

it that you wish for most? Shall I make you as beautiful as you deserve

to be?’

‘Ah, if you only would!’ cried the Princess, and at the same moment she

heard a crick-cracking in all her bones. She grew tall and straight and

pretty, with eyes like shining stars, and a skin as white as milk.

‘Oh, wonderful! can this really be my poor little self?’ she exclaimed,

looking down in amazement at her tiny worn-out crutch as it lay upon

the floor.

‘Indeed, Princess,’ replied Florimond, ‘it is yourself, but you must

have a new name, since the old one does not suit you now. Be called

Princess Sunbeam, for you are bright and charming enough to deserve the

name.’

And so saying he disappeared, and the Princess, without knowing how she

got there, found herself walking under shady trees by a clear river. Of

course, the first thing she did was to look at her own reflection in

the water, and she was extremely surprised to find that she was exactly

like the shepherdess she had so much admired, and wore the same white

dress and flowery wreath that she had seen in the painted windows. To

complete the resemblance, her flock of sheep appeared, grazing round

her, and she found a gay crook adorned with flowers upon the bank of

the river. Quite tired out by so many new and wonderful experiences,

the Princess sat down to rest at the foot of a tree, and there she fell

fast asleep. Now it happened that it was in this very country that

Prince Peerless had been set down, and while the Princess Sunbeam was

still sleeping peacefully, he came strolling along in search of a shady

pasture for his sheep.

The moment he caught sight of the Princess he recognised her as the

charming shepherdess whose picture he had seen so often in the tower,

and as she was far prettier than he had remembered her, he was

delighted that chance had led him that way.

He was still watching her admiringly when the Princess opened her eyes,

and as she also recognised him they were soon great friends. The

Princess asked Prince Peerless, as he knew the country better than she

did, to tell her of some peasant who would give her a lodging, and he

said he knew of an old woman whose cottage would be the very place for

her, it was so nice and so pretty. So they went there together, and the

Princess was charmed with the old woman and everything belonging to

her. Supper was soon spread for her under a shady tree, and she invited

the Prince to share the cream and brown bread which the old woman

provided. This he was delighted to do, and having first fetched from

his own garden all the strawberries, cherries, nuts and flowers he

could find, they sat down together and were very merry. After this they

met every day as they guarded their flocks, and were so happy that

Prince Peerless begged the Princess to marry him, so that they might

never be parted again. Now though the Princess Sunbeam appeared to be

only a poor shepherdess, she never forgot that she was a real Princess,

and she was not at all sure that she ought to marry a humble shepherd,

though she knew she would like to do so very much.

So she resolved to consult an Enchanter of whom she had heard a great

deal since she had been a shepherdess, and without saying a word to

anybody she set out to find the castle in which he lived with his

sister, who was a powerful Fairy. The way was long, and lay through a

thick wood, where the Princess heard strange voices calling to her from

every side, but she was in such a hurry that she stopped for nothing,

and at last she came to the courtyard of the Enchanter’s castle.

The grass and briers were growing as high as if it were a hundred years

since anyone had set foot there, but the Princess got through at last,

though she gave herself a good many scratches by the way, and then she

went into a dark, gloomy hall, where there was but one tiny hole in the

wall through which the daylight could enter. The hangings were all of

bats’ wings, and from the ceiling hung twelve cats, who filled the hall

with their ear piercing yells. Upon the long table twelve mice were

fastened by the tail, and just in front of each one’s nose, but quite

beyond its reach, lay a tempting morsel of fat bacon. So the cats could

always see the mice, but could not touch them, and the hungry mice were

tormented by the sight and smell of the delicious morsels which they

could never seize.

The Princess was looking at the poor creatures in dismay, when the

Enchanter suddenly entered, wearing a long black robe and with a

crocodile upon his head. In his hand he carried a whip made of twenty

long snakes, all alive and writhing, and the Princess was so terrified

at the sight that she heartily wished she had never come. Without

saying a word she ran to the door, but it was covered with a thick

spider’s web, and when she broke it she found another, and another, and

another. In fact, there was no end to them; the Princess’s arms ached

with tearing them down, and yet she was no nearer to getting out, and

the wicked Enchanter behind her laughed maliciously. At last he said:

‘You might spend the rest of your life over that without doing any

good, but as you are young, and quite the prettiest creature I have

seen for a long time, I will marry you if you like, and I will give you

those cats and mice that you see there for your own. They are princes

and princesses who have happened to offend me. They used to love one

another as much as they now hate one another. Aha! It’s a pretty little

revenge to keep them like that.’

‘Oh! If you would only change me into a mouse too,’ cried the Princess.

‘Oh! so you won’t marry me?’ said he. ‘Little simpleton, you should

have everything heart can desire.’

‘No, indeed; nothing should make me marry you; in fact, I don’t think I

shall ever love anyone,’ cried the Princess.

‘In that case,’ said the Enchanter, touching her, ‘you had better

become a particular kind of creature that is neither fish nor fowl; you

shall be light and airy, and as green as the grass you live in. Off

with you, Madam Grasshopper.’ And the Princess, rejoicing to find

herself free once more, skipped out into the garden, the prettiest

little green Grasshopper in the world. But as soon as she was safely

out she began to be rather sorry for herself.

‘Ah! Florimond,’ she sighed, ‘is this the end of your gift? Certainly

beauty is short-lived, and this funny little face and a green crape

dress are a comical end to it. I had better have married my amiable

shepherd. It must be for my pride that I am condemned to be a

Grasshopper, and sing day and night in the grass by this brook, when I

feel far more inclined to cry.’

In the meantime Prince Peerless had discovered the Princess’s absence,

and was lamenting over it by the river’s brim, when he suddenly became

aware of the presence of a little old woman. She was quaintly dressed

in a ruff and farthingale, and a velvet hood covered her snow-white

hair.

‘You seem sorrowful, my son,’ she said. ‘What is the matter?’

‘Alas! mother,’ answered the Prince, ‘I have lost my sweet shepherdess,

but I am determined to find her again, though I should have to traverse

the whole world in search of her.’

‘Go that way, my son,’ said the old woman, pointing towards the path

that led to the castle. ‘I have an idea that you will soon overtake

her.’

The Prince thanked her heartily and set out. As he met with no

hindrance, he soon reached the enchanted wood which surrounded the

castle, and there he thought he saw the Princess Sunbeam gliding before

him among the trees. Prince Peerless hastened after her at the top of

his speed, but could not get any nearer; then he called to her:

‘Sunbeam, my darling—only wait for me a moment.’

But the phantom did but fly the faster, and the Prince spent the whole

day in this vain pursuit. When night came he saw the castle before him

all lighted up, and as he imagined that the Princess must be in it, he

made haste to get there too. He entered without difficulty, and in the

hall the terrible old Fairy met him. She was so thin that the light

shone through her, and her eyes glowed like lamps; her skin was like a

shark’s, her arms were thin as laths, and her fingers like spindles.

Nevertheless she wore rouge and patches, a mantle of silver brocade and

a crown of diamonds, and her dress was covered with jewels, and green

and pink ribbons.

‘At last you have come to see me, Prince,’ said she. ‘Don’t waste

another thought upon that little shepherdess, who is unworthy of your

notice. I am the Queen of the Comets, and can bring you to great honour

if you will marry me.’

‘Marry you, Madam,’ cried the Prince, in horror. ‘No, I will never

consent to that.’

Thereupon the Fairy, in a rage, gave two strokes of her wand and filled

the gallery with horrible goblins, against whom the Prince had to fight

for his life. Though he had only his dagger, he defended himself so

well that he escaped without any harm, and presently the old Fairy

stopped the fray and asked the Prince if he was still of the same mind.

When he answered firmly that he was, she called up the appearance of

the Princess Sunbeam to the other end of the gallery, and said:

‘You see your beloved there? Take care what you are about, for if you

again refuse to marry me she shall be torn in pieces by two tigers.’

The Prince was distracted, for he fancied he heard his dear shepherdess

weeping and begging him to save her. In despair he cried:

‘Oh, Fairy Douceline, have you abandoned me after so many promises of

friendship? Help, help us now!’

Immediately a soft voice said in his ear:

‘Be firm, happen what may, and seek the Golden Branch.’

Thus encouraged, the Prince persevered in his refusal, and at length

the old Fairy in a fury cried:

‘Get out of my sight, obstinate Prince. Become a Cricket!’

And instantly the handsome Prince Peerless became a poor little black

Cricket, whose only idea would have been to find himself a cosy cranny

behind some blazing hearth, if he had not luckily remembered the Fairy

Douceline’s injunction to seek the Golden Branch.

So he hastened to depart from the fatal castle, and sought shelter in a

hollow tree, where he found a forlorn looking little Grasshopper

crouching in a corner, too miserable to sing.

Without in the least expecting an answer, the Prince asked it:

‘And where may you be going, Gammer Grasshopper?’

‘Where are you going yourself, Gaffer Cricket?’ replied the

Grasshopper.

‘What! can you speak?’ said he.

‘Why should I not speak as well as you? Isn’t a Grasshopper as good as

a Cricket?’ said she.

‘I can talk because I was a Prince,’ said the Cricket.

‘And for that very same reason I ought to be able to talk more than

you, for I was a Princess,’ replied the Grasshopper.

‘Then you have met with the same fate as I have,’ said he. ‘But where

are you going now? Cannot we journey together?’

‘I seemed to hear a voice in the air which said: “Be firm, happen what

may, and seek the Golden Branch,”’ answered the Grasshopper, ‘and I

thought the command must be for me, so I started at once, though I

don’t know the way.’

At this moment their conversation was interrupted by two mice, who,

breathless from running, flung themselves headlong through the hole

into the tree, nearly crushing the Grasshopper and the Cricket, though

they got out of the way as fast as they could and stood up in a dark

corner.

‘Ah, Madam,’ said the fatter of the two, ‘I have such a pain in my side

from running so fast. How does your Highness find yourself?’

‘I have pulled my tail off,’ replied the younger Mouse, ‘but as I

should still be on the sorcerer’s table unless I had, I do not regret

it. Are we pursued, think you? How lucky we were to escape!’

‘I only trust that we may escape cats and traps, and reach the Golden

Branch soon,’ said the fat Mouse.

‘You know the way then?’ said the other.

‘Oh dear, yes! as well as the way to my own house, Madam. This Golden

Branch is indeed a marvel, a single leaf from it makes one rich for

ever. It breaks enchantments, and makes all who approach it young and

beautiful. We must set out for it at the break of day.’

‘May we have the honour of travelling with you—this respectable Cricket

and myself?’ said the Grasshopper, stepping forward. ‘We also are on a

pilgrimage to the Golden Branch.’

The Mice courteously assented, and after many polite speeches the whole

party fell asleep. With the earliest dawn they were on their way, and

though the Mice were in constant fear of being overtaken or trapped,

they reached the Golden Branch in safety.

It grew in the midst of a wonderful garden, all the paths of which were

strewn with pearls as big as peas. The roses were crimson diamonds,

with emerald leaves. The pomegranates were garnets, the marigolds

topazes, the daffodils yellow diamonds, the violets sapphires, the

corn-flowers turquoises, the tulips amethysts, opals and diamonds, so

that the garden borders blazed like the sun. The Golden Branch itself

had become as tall as a forest tree, and sparkled with ruby cherries to

its topmost twig. No sooner had the Grasshopper and the Cricket touched

it than they were restored to their natural forms, and their surprise

and joy were great when they recognised each other. At this moment

Florimond and the Fairy Douceline appeared in great splendour, and the

Fairy, as she descended from her chariot, said with a smile:

‘So you two have found one another again, I see, but I have still a

surprise left for you. Don’t hesitate, Princess, to tell your devoted

shepherd how dearly you love him, as he is the very Prince your father

sent you to marry. So come here both of you and let me crown you, and

we will have the wedding at once.’

The Prince and Princess thanked her with all their hearts, and declared

that to her they owed all their happiness, and then the two Princesses,

who had so lately been Mice, came and begged that the Fairy would use

her power to release their unhappy friends who were still under the

Enchanter’s spell.

‘Really,’ said the Fairy Douceline, ‘on this happy occasion I cannot

find it in my heart to refuse you anything.’ And she gave three strokes

of her wand upon the Golden Branch, and immediately all the prisoners

in the Enchanter’s castle found themselves free, and came with all

speed to the wonderful garden, where one touch of the Golden Branch

restored each one to his natural form, and they greeted one another

with many rejoicings. To complete her generous work the Fairy presented

them with the wonderful cabinet and all the treasures it contained,

which were worth at least ten kingdoms. But to Prince Peerless and the

Princess Sunbeam she gave the palace and garden of the Golden Branch,

where, immensely rich and greatly beloved by all their subjects, they

lived happily ever after.[18]

[18] Le Rameau d’Or. Par Madame d’Aulnoy.