The Princess Mayblossom

THE PRINCESS MAYBLOSSOM

Once upon a time there lived a King and Queen whose children had all

died, first one and then another, until at last only one little

daughter remained, and the Queen was at her wits’ end to know where to

find a really good nurse who would take care of her, and bring her up.

A herald was sent who blew a trumpet at every street corner, and

commanded all the best nurses to appear before the Queen, that she

might choose one for the little Princess. So on the appointed day the

whole palace was crowded with nurses, who came from the four corners of

the world to offer themselves, until the Queen declared that if she was

ever to see the half of them, they must be brought out to her, one by

one, as she sat in a shady wood near the palace.

This was accordingly done, and the nurses, after they had made their

curtsey to the King and Queen, ranged themselves in a line before her

that she might choose. Most of them were fair and fat and charming, but

there was one who was dark-skinned and ugly, and spoke a strange

language which nobody could understand. The Queen wondered how she

dared offer herself, and she was told to go away, as she certainly

would not do. Upon which she muttered something and passed on, but hid

herself in a hollow tree, from which she could see all that happened.

The Queen, without giving her another thought, chose a pretty

rosy-faced nurse, but no sooner was her choice made than a snake, which

was hidden in the grass, bit that very nurse on her foot, so that she

fell down as if dead. The Queen was very much vexed by this accident,

but she soon selected another, who was just stepping forward when an

eagle flew by and dropped a large tortoise upon her head, which was

cracked in pieces like an egg-shell. At this the Queen was much

horrified; nevertheless, she chose a third time, but with no better

fortune, for the nurse, moving quickly, ran into the branch of a tree

and blinded herself with a thorn. Then the Queen in dismay cried that

there must be some malignant influence at work, and that she would

choose no more that day; and she had just risen to return to the palace

when she heard peals of malicious laughter behind her, and turning

round saw the ugly stranger whom she had dismissed, who was making very

merry over the disasters and mocking everyone, but especially the

Queen. This annoyed Her Majesty very much, and she was about to order

that she should be arrested, when the witch—for she was a witch—with

two blows from a wand summoned a chariot of fire drawn by winged

dragons, and was whirled off through the air uttering threats and

cries. When the King saw this he cried:

‘Alas! now we are ruined indeed, for that was no other than the Fairy

Carabosse, who has had a grudge against me ever since I was a boy and

put sulphur into her porridge one day for fun.’

Then the Queen began to cry.

‘If I had only known who it was,’ she said, ‘I would have done my best

to make friends with her; now I suppose all is lost.’

The King was sorry to have frightened her so much, and proposed that

they should go and hold a council as to what was best to be done to

avert the misfortunes which Carabosse certainly meant to bring upon the

little Princess.

So all the counsellors were summoned to the palace, and when they had

shut every door and window, and stuffed up every keyhole that they

might not be overheard, they talked the affair over, and decided that

every fairy for a thousand leagues round should be invited to the

christening of the Princess, and that the time of the ceremony should

be kept a profound secret, in case the Fairy Carabosse should take it

into her head to attend it.

The Queen and her ladies set to work to prepare presents for the

fairies who were invited: for each one a blue velvet cloak, a petticoat

of apricot satin, a pair of high-heeled shoes, some sharp needles, and

a pair of golden scissors. Of all the fairies the Queen knew, only five

were able to come on the day appointed, but they began immediately to

bestow gifts upon the Princess. One promised that she should be

perfectly beautiful, the second that she should understand anything—no

matter what—the first time it was explained to her, the third that she

should sing like a nightingale, the fourth that she should succeed in

everything she undertook, and the fifth was opening her mouth to speak

when a tremendous rumbling was heard in the chimney, and Carabosse, all

covered with soot, came rolling down, crying:

‘I say that she shall be the unluckiest of the unlucky until she is

twenty years old.’

Then the Queen and all the fairies began to beg and beseech her to

think better of it, and not be so unkind to the poor little Princess,

who had never done her any harm. But the ugly old Fairy only grunted

and made no answer. So the last Fairy, who had not yet given her gift,

tried to mend matters by promising the Princess a long and happy life

after the fatal time was over. At this Carabosse laughed maliciously,

and climbed away up the chimney, leaving them all in great

consternation, and especially the Queen. However, she entertained the

fairies splendidly, and gave them beautiful ribbons, of which they are

very fond, in addition to the other presents.

When they were going away the oldest Fairy said that they were of

opinion that it would be best to shut the Princess up in some place,

with her waiting-women, so that she might not see anyone else until she

was twenty years old. So the King had a tower built on purpose. It had

no windows, so it was lighted with wax candles, and the only way into

it was by an underground passage, which had iron doors only twenty feet

apart, and guards were posted everywhere.

The Princess had been named Mayblossom, because she was as fresh and

blooming as Spring itself, and she grew up tall and beautiful, and

everything she did and said was charming. Every time the King and Queen

came to see her they were more delighted with her than before, but

though she was weary of the tower, and often begged them to take her

away from it, they always refused. The Princess’s nurse, who had never

left her, sometimes told her about the world outside the tower, and

though the Princess had never seen anything for herself, yet she always

understood exactly, thanks to the second Fairy’s gift. Often the King

said to the Queen:

‘We were cleverer than Carabosse after all. Our Mayblossom will be

happy in spite of her predictions.’

And the Queen laughed until she was tired at the idea of having

outwitted the old Fairy. They had caused the Princess’s portrait to be

painted and sent to all the neighbouring Courts, for in four days she

would have completed her twentieth year, and it was time to decide whom

she should marry. All the town was rejoicing at the thought of the

Princess’s approaching freedom, and when the news came that King Merlin

was sending his ambassador to ask her in marriage for his son, they

were still more delighted. The nurse, who kept the Princess informed of

everything that went forward in the town, did not fail to repeat the

news that so nearly concerned her, and gave such a description of the

splendour in which the ambassador Fanfaronade would enter the town,

that the Princess was wild to see the procession for herself.

‘What an unhappy creature I am,’ she cried, ‘to be shut up in this

dismal tower as if I had committed some crime! I have never seen the

sun, or the stars, or a horse, or a monkey, or a lion, except in

pictures, and though the King and Queen tell me I am to be set free

when I am twenty, I believe they only say it to keep me amused, when

they never mean to let me out at all.’

And then she began to cry, and her nurse, and the nurse’s daughter, and

the cradle-rocker, and the nursery-maid, who all loved her dearly,

cried too for company, so that nothing could be heard but sobs and

sighs. It was a scene of woe. When the Princess saw that they all

pitied her she made up her mind to have her own way. So she declared

that she would starve herself to death if they did not find some means

of letting her see Fanfaronade’s grand entry into the town.

‘If you really love me,’ she said, ‘you will manage it, somehow or

other, and the King and Queen need never know anything about it.’

Then the nurse and all the others cried harder than ever, and said

everything they could think of to turn the Princess from her idea. But

the more they said the more determined she was, and at last they

consented to make a tiny hole in the tower on the side that looked

towards the city gates.

After scratching and scraping all day and all night, they presently

made a hole through which they could, with great difficulty, push a

very slender needle, and out of this the Princess looked at the

daylight for the first time. She was so dazzled and delighted by what

she saw, that there she stayed, never taking her eyes away from the

peep-hole for a single minute, until presently the ambassador’s

procession appeared in sight.

At the head of it rode Fanfaronade himself upon a white horse, which

pranced and caracoled to the sound of the trumpets. Nothing could have

been more splendid than the ambassador’s attire. His coat was nearly

hidden under an embroidery of pearls and diamonds, his boots were solid

gold, and from his helmet floated scarlet plumes. At the sight of him

the Princess lost her wits entirely, and determined that Fanfaronade

and nobody else would she marry.

‘It is quite impossible,’ she said, ‘that his master should be half as

handsome and delightful. I am not ambitious, and having spent all my

life in this tedious tower, anything—even a house in the country—will

seem a delightful change. I am sure that bread and water shared with

Fanfaronade will please me far better than roast chicken and sweetmeats

with anybody else.’

And so she went on talk, talk, talking, until her waiting-women

wondered where she got it all from. But when they tried to stop her,

and represented that her high rank made it perfectly impossible that

she should do any such thing, she would not listen, and ordered them to

be silent.

As soon as the ambassador arrived at the palace, the Queen started to

fetch her daughter.

All the streets were spread with carpets, and the windows were full of

ladies who were waiting to see the Princess, and carried baskets of

flowers and sweetmeats to shower upon her as she passed.

They had hardly begun to get the Princess ready when a dwarf arrived,

mounted upon an elephant. He came from the five fairies, and brought

for the Princess a crown, a sceptre, and a robe of golden brocade, with

a petticoat marvellously embroidered with butterflies’ wings. They also

sent a casket of jewels, so splendid that no one had ever seen anything

like it before, and the Queen was perfectly dazzled when she opened it.

But the Princess scarcely gave a glance to any of these treasures, for

she thought of nothing but Fanfaronade. The Dwarf was rewarded with a

gold piece, and decorated with so many ribbons that it was hardly

possible to see him at all. The Princess sent to each of the fairies a

new spinning-wheel with a distaff of cedar wood, and the Queen said she

must look through her treasures and find something very charming to

send them also.

When the Princess was arrayed in all the gorgeous things the Dwarf had

brought, she was more beautiful than ever, and as she walked along the

streets the people cried: ‘How pretty she is! How pretty she is!’

The procession consisted of the Queen, the Princess, five dozen other

princesses her cousins, and ten dozen who came from the neighbouring

kingdoms; and as they proceeded at a stately pace the sky began to grow

dark, then suddenly the thunder growled, and rain and hail fell in

torrents. The Queen put her royal mantle over her head, and all the

princesses did the same with their trains. Mayblossom was just about to

follow their example when a terrific croaking, as of an immense army of

crows, rooks, ravens, screech-owls, and all birds of ill-omen was

heard, and at the same instant a huge owl skimmed up to the Princess,

and threw over her a scarf woven of spiders’ webs and embroidered with

bats’ wings. And then peals of mocking laughter rang through the air,

and they guessed that this was another of the Fairy Carabosse’s

unpleasant jokes.

The Queen was terrified at such an evil omen, and tried to pull the

black scarf from the Princess’s shoulders, but it really seemed as if

it must be nailed on, it clung so closely.

‘Ah!’ cried the Queen, ‘can nothing appease this enemy of ours? What

good was it that I sent her more than fifty pounds of sweetmeats, and

as much again of the best sugar, not to mention two Westphalia hams?

She is as angry as ever.’

While she lamented in this way, and everybody was as wet as if they had

been dragged through a river, the Princess still thought of nothing but

the ambassador, and just at this moment he appeared before her, with

the King, and there was a great blowing of trumpets, and all the people

shouted louder than ever. Fanfaronade was not generally at a loss for

something to say, but when he saw the Princess, she was so much more

beautiful and majestic than he had expected that he could only stammer

out a few words, and entirely forgot the harangue which he had been

learning for months, and knew well enough to have repeated it in his

sleep. To gain time to remember at least part of it, he made several

low bows to the Princess, who on her side dropped half-a-dozen curtseys

without stopping to think, and then said, to relieve his evident

embarrassment:

‘Sir Ambassador, I am sure that everything you intend to say is

charming, since it is you who mean to say it; but let us make haste

into the palace, as it is pouring cats and dogs, and the wicked Fairy

Carabosse will be amused to see us all stand dripping here. When we are

once under shelter we can laugh at her.’

Upon this the Ambassador found his tongue, and replied gallantly that

the Fairy had evidently foreseen the flames that would be kindled by

the bright eyes of the Princess, and had sent this deluge to extinguish

them. Then he offered his hand to conduct the Princess, and she said

softly:

‘As you could not possibly guess how much I like you, Sir Fanfaronade,

I am obliged to tell you plainly that, since I saw you enter the town

on your beautiful prancing horse, I have been sorry that you came to

speak for another instead of for yourself. So, if you think about it as

I do, I will marry you instead of your master. Of course I know you are

not a prince, but I shall be just as fond of you as if you were, and we

can go and live in some cosy little corner of the world, and be as

happy as the days are long.’

The Ambassador thought he must be dreaming, and could hardly believe

what the lovely Princess said. He dared not answer, but only squeezed

the Princess’s hand until he really hurt her little finger, but she did

not cry out. When they reached the palace the King kissed his daughter

on both cheeks, and said:

‘My little lambkin, are you willing to marry the great King Merlin’s

son, for this Ambassador has come on his behalf to fetch you?’

‘If you please, sire,’ said the Princess, dropping a curtsey.

‘I consent also,’ said the Queen; ‘so let the banquet be prepared.’

This was done with all speed, and everybody feasted except Mayblossom

and Fanfaronade, who looked at one another and forgot everything else.

After the banquet came a ball, and after that again a ballet, and at

last they were all so tired that everyone fell asleep just where he

sat. Only the lovers were as wide-awake as mice, and the Princess,

seeing that there was nothing to fear, said to Fanfaronade:

‘Let us be quick and run away, for we shall never have a better chance

than this.’

Then she took the King’s dagger, which was in a diamond sheath, and the

Queen’s neck-handkerchief, and gave her hand to Fanfaronade, who

carried a lantern, and they ran out together into the muddy street and

down to the sea-shore. Here they got into a little boat in which the

poor old boatman was sleeping, and when he woke up and saw the lovely

Princess, with all her diamonds and her spiders’—web scarf, he did not

know what to think, and obeyed her instantly when she commanded him to

set out. They could see neither moon nor stars, but in the Queen’s

neck-handkerchief there was a carbuncle which glowed like fifty

torches. Fanfaronade asked the Princess where she would like to go, but

she only answered that she did not care where she went as long as he

was with her.

‘But, Princess,’ said he, ‘I dare not take you back to King Merlin’s

court. He would think hanging too good for me.’

‘Oh, in that case,’ she answered, ‘we had better go to Squirrel Island;

it is lonely enough, and too far off for anyone to follow us there.’

So she ordered the old boatman to steer for Squirrel Island.

Meanwhile the day was breaking, and the King and Queen and all the

courtiers began to wake up and rub their eyes, and think it was time to

finish the preparations for the wedding. And the Queen asked for her

neck-handkerchief, that she might look smart. Then there was a

scurrying hither and thither, and a hunting everywhere: they looked

into every place, from the wardrobes to the stoves, and the Queen

herself ran about from the garret to the cellar, but the handkerchief

was nowhere to be found.

By this time the King had missed his dagger, and the search began all

over again. They opened boxes and chests of which the keys had been

lost for a hundred years, and found numbers of curious things, but not

the dagger, and the King tore his beard, and the Queen tore her hair,

for the handkerchief and the dagger were the most valuable things in

the kingdom.

When the King saw that the search was hopeless he said:

‘Never mind, let us make haste and get the wedding over before anything

else is lost.’ And then he asked where the Princess was. Upon this her

nurse came forward and said:

‘Sire, I have been seeking her these two hours, but she is nowhere to

be found.’ This was more than the Queen could bear. She gave a shriek

of alarm and fainted away, and they had to pour two barrels of

eau-de-cologne over her before she recovered. When she came to herself

everybody was looking for the Princess in the greatest terror and

confusion, but as she did not appear, the King said to his page:

‘Go and find the Ambassador Fanfaronade, who is doubtless asleep in

some corner, and tell him the sad news.’

So the page hunted hither and thither, but Fanfaronade was no more to

be found than the Princess, the dagger, or the neck-handkerchief!

Then the King summoned his counsellors and his guards, and, accompanied

by the Queen, went into his great hall. As he had not had time to

prepare his speech beforehand, the King ordered that silence should be

kept for three hours, and at the end of that time he spoke as follows:

‘Listen, great and small! My dear daughter Mayblossom is lost: whether

she has been stolen away or has simply disappeared I cannot tell. The

Queen’s neck-handkerchief and my sword, which are worth their weight in

gold, are also missing, and, what is worst of all, the Ambassador

Fanfaronade is nowhere to be found. I greatly fear that the King, his

master, when he receives no tidings from him, will come to seek him

among us, and will accuse us of having made mince-meat of him. Perhaps

I could bear even that if I had any money, but I assure you that the

expenses of the wedding have completely ruined me. Advise me, then, my

dear subjects, what had I better do to recover my daughter,

Fanfaronade, and the other things.’

This was the most eloquent speech the King had been known to make, and

when everybody had done admiring it the Prime Minister made answer:

‘Sire, we are all very sorry to see you so sorry. We would give

everything we value in the world to take away the cause of your sorrow,

but this seems to be another of the tricks of the Fairy Carabosse. The

Princess’s twenty unlucky years were not quite over, and really, if the

truth must be told, I noticed that Fanfaronade and the Princess

appeared to admire one another greatly. Perhaps this may give some clue

to the mystery of their disappearance.’

Here the Queen interrupted him, saying, ‘Take care what you say, sir.

Believe me, the Princess Mayblossom was far too well brought up to

think of falling in love with an Ambassador.’

At this the nurse came forward, and, falling on her knees, confessed

how they had made the little needle-hole in the tower, and how the

Princess had declared when she saw the Ambassador that she would marry

him and nobody else. Then the Queen was very angry, and gave the nurse,

and the cradle-rocker, and the nursery-maid such a scolding that they

shook in their shoes. But the Admiral Cocked-Hat interrupted her,

crying:

‘Let us be off after this good-for-nothing Fanfaronade, for with out a

doubt he has run away with our Princess.’

Then there was a great clapping of hands, and everybody shouted, ‘By

all means let us be after him.’

So while some embarked upon the sea, the others ran from kingdom to

kingdom beating drums and blowing trumpets, and wherever a crowd

collected they cried:

‘Whoever wants a beautiful doll, sweetmeats of all kinds, a little pair

of scissors, a golden robe, and a satin cap has only to say where

Fanfaronade has hidden the Princess Mayblossom.’

But the answer everywhere was, ‘You must go farther, we have not seen

them.’

However, those who went by sea were more fortunate, for after sailing

about for some time they noticed a light before them which burned at

night like a great fire. At first they dared not go near it, not

knowing what it might be, but by-and-by it remained stationary over

Squirrel Island, for, as you have guessed already, the light was the

glowing of the carbuncle. The Princess and Fanfaronade on landing upon

the island had given the boatman a hundred gold pieces, and made him

promise solemnly to tell no one where he had taken them; but the first

thing that happened was that, as he rowed away, he got into the midst

of the fleet, and before he could escape the Admiral had seen him and

sent a boat after him.

When he was searched they found the gold pieces in his pocket, and as

they were quite new coins, struck in honour of the Princess’s wedding,

the Admiral felt certain that the boatman must have been paid by the

Princess to aid her in her flight. But he would not answer any

questions, and pretended to be deaf and dumb.

Then the Admiral said: ‘Oh! deaf and dumb is he? Lash him to the mast

and give him a taste of the cat-o’-nine-tails. I don’t know anything

better than that for curing the deaf and dumb!’

And when the old boatman saw that he was in earnest, he told all he

knew about the cavalier and the lady whom he had landed upon Squirrel

Island, and the Admiral knew it must be the Princess and Fanfaronade;

so he gave the order for the fleet to surround the island.

Meanwhile the Princess Mayblossom, who was by this time terribly

sleepy, had found a grassy bank in the shade, and throwing herself down

had already fallen into a profound slumber, when Fanfaronade, who

happened to be hungry and not sleepy, came and woke her up, saying,

very crossly:

‘Pray, madam, how long do you mean to stay here? I see nothing to eat,

and though you may be very charming, the sight of you does not prevent

me from famishing.’

‘What! Fanfaronade,’ said the Princess, sitting up and rubbing her

eyes, ‘is it possible that when I am here with you you can want

anything else? You ought to be thinking all the time how happy you

are.’

‘Happy!’ cried he; ‘say rather unhappy. I wish with all my heart that

you were back in your dark tower again.’

‘Darling, don’t be cross,’ said the Princess. ‘I will go and see if I

can find some wild fruit for you.’

‘I wish you might find a wolf to eat you up,’ growled Fanfaronade.

The Princess, in great dismay, ran hither and thither all about the

wood, tearing her dress, and hurting her pretty white hands with the

thorns and brambles, but she could find nothing good to eat, and at

last she had to go back sorrowfully to Fanfaronade. When he saw that

she came empty-handed he got up and left her, grumbling to himself.

The next day they searched again, but with no better success.

‘Alas!’ said the Princess, ‘if only I could find something for you to

eat, I should not mind being hungry myself.’

‘No, I should not mind that either,’ answered Fanfaronade.

‘Is it possible,’ said she, ‘that you would not care if I died of

hunger? Oh, Fanfaronade, you said you loved me!’

‘That was when we were in quite another place and I was not hungry,’

said he. ‘It makes a great difference in one’s ideas to be dying of

hunger and thirst on a desert island.’

At this the Princess was dreadfully vexed, and she sat down under a

white rose bush and began to cry bitterly.

‘Happy roses,’ she thought to herself, ‘they have only to blossom in

the sunshine and be admired, and there is nobody to be unkind to them.’

And the tears ran down her cheeks and splashed on to the rose-tree

roots. Presently she was surprised to see the whole bush rustling and

shaking, and a soft little voice from the prettiest rosebud said:

‘Poor Princess! look in the trunk of that tree, and you will find a

honeycomb, but don’t be foolish enough to share it with Fanfaronade.’

Mayblossom ran to the tree, and sure enough there was the honey.

Without losing a moment she ran with it to Fanfaronade, crying gaily:

‘See, here is a honeycomb that I have found. I might have eaten it up

all by myself, but I had rather share it with you.’

But without looking at her or thanking her he snatched the honey comb

out of her hands and ate it all up—every bit, without offering her a

morsel. Indeed, when she humbly asked for some he said mockingly that

it was too sweet for her, and would spoil her teeth.

Mayblossom, more downcast than ever, went sadly away and sat down under

an oak tree, and her tears and sighs were so piteous that the oak

fanned her with his rustling leaves, and said:

‘Take courage, pretty Princess, all is not lost yet. Take this pitcher

of milk and drink it up, and whatever you do, don’t leave a drop for

Fanfaronade.’

The Princess, quite astonished, looked round, and saw a big pitcher

full of milk, but before she could raise it to her lips the thought of

how thirsty Fanfaronade must be, after eating at least fifteen pounds

of honey, made her run back to him and say:

‘Here is a pitcher of milk; drink some, for you must be thirsty I am

sure; but pray save a little for me, as I am dying of hunger and

thirst.’

But he seized the pitcher and drank all it contained at a single

draught, and then broke it to atoms on the nearest stone, saying with a

malicious smile: ‘As you have not eaten anything you cannot be

thirsty.’

‘Ah!’ cried the Princess, ‘I am well punished for disappointing the

King and Queen, and running away with this Ambassador about whom I knew

nothing.’

And so saying she wandered away into the thickest part of the wood, and

sat down under a thorn tree, where a nightingale was singing. Presently

she heard him say: ‘Search under the bush Princess; you will find some

sugar, almonds, and some tarts there But don’t be silly enough to offer

Fanfaronade any.’ And this time the Princess, who was fainting with

hunger, took the nightingale’s advice, and ate what she found all by

herself. But Fanfaronade, seeing that she had found something good, and

was not going to share it with him, ran after her in such a fury that

she hastily drew out the Queen’s carbuncle, which had the property of

rendering people invisible if they were in danger, and when she was

safely hidden from him she reproached him gently for his unkindness.

Meanwhile Admiral Cocked-Hat had despatched

Jack-the-Chatterer-of-the-Straw-Boots, Courier in Ordinary to the Prime

Minister, to tell the King that the Princess and the Ambassador had

landed on Squirrel Island, but that not knowing the country he had not

pursued them, for fear of being captured by concealed enemies. Their

Majesties were overjoyed at the news, and the King sent for a great

book, each leaf of which was eight ells long. It was the work of a very

clever Fairy, and contained a description of the whole earth. He very

soon found that Squirrel Island was uninhabited.

‘Go,’ said he, to Jack-the-Chatterer, ‘tell the Admiral from me to land

at once. I am surprised at his not having done so sooner.’ As soon as

this message reached the fleet, every preparation was made for war, and

the noise was so great that it reached the ears of the Princess, who at

once flew to protect her lover. As he was not very brave he accepted

her aid gladly.

‘You stand behind me,’ said she, ‘and I will hold the carbuncle which

will make us invisible, and with the King’s dagger I can protect you

from the enemy.’ So when the soldiers landed they could see nothing,

but the Princess touched them one after another with the dagger, and

they fell insensible upon the sand, so that at last the Admiral, seeing

that there was some enchantment, hastily gave orders for a retreat to

be sounded, and got his men back into their boats in great confusion.

Fanfaronade, being once more left with the Princess, began to think

that if he could get rid of her, and possess himself of the carbuncle

and the dagger, he would be able to make his escape. So as they walked

back over the cliffs he gave the Princess a great push, hoping she

would fall into the sea; but she stepped aside so quickly that he only

succeeded in overbalancing himself, and over he went, and sank to the

bottom of the sea like a lump of lead, and was never heard of any more.

While the Princess was still looking after him in horror, her attention

was attracted by a rushing noise over her head, and looking up she saw

two chariots approaching rapidly from opposite directions. One was

bright and glittering, and drawn by swans and peacocks, while the Fairy

who sat in it was beautiful as a sunbeam; but the other was drawn by

bats and ravens, and contained a frightful little Dwarf, who was

dressed in a snake’s skin, and wore a great toad upon her head for a

hood. The chariots met with a frightful crash in mid-air, and the

Princess looked on in breathless anxiety while a furious battle took

place between the lovely Fairy with her golden lance, and the hideous

little Dwarf and her rusty pike. But very soon it was evident that the

Beauty had the best of it, and the Dwarf turned her bats’ heads and

flickered away in great confusion, while the Fairy came down to where

the Princess stood, and said, smiling, ‘You see Princess, I have

completely routed that malicious old Carabosse. Will you believe it!

she actually wanted to claim authority over you for ever, because you

came out of the tower four days before the twenty years were ended.

However, I think I have settled her pretensions, and I hope you will be

very happy and enjoy the freedom I have won for you.’

The Princess thanked her heartily, and then the Fairy despatched one of

her peacocks to her palace to bring a gorgeous robe for Mayblossom, who

certainly needed it, for her own was torn to shreds by the thorns and

briars. Another peacock was sent to the Admiral to tell him that he

could now land in perfect safety, which he at once did, bringing all

his men with him, even to Jack-the-Chatterer, who, happening to pass

the spit upon which the Admiral’s dinner was roasting, snatched it up

and brought it with him.

Admiral Cocked-Hat was immensely surprised when he came upon the golden

chariot, and still more so to see two lovely ladies walking under the

trees a little farther away. When he reached them, of course he

recognised the Princess, and he went down on his knees and kissed her

hand quite joyfully. Then she presented him to the Fairy, and told him

how Carabosse had been finally routed, and he thanked and congratulated

the Fairy, who was most gracious to him. While they were talking she

cried suddenly:

‘I declare I smell a savoury dinner.’

‘Why yes, Madam, here it is,’ said Jack-the-Chatterer, holding up the

spit, where all the pheasants and partridges were frizzling. ‘Will your

Highness please to taste any of them?’

‘By all means,’ said the Fairy, ‘especially as the Princess will

certainly be glad of a good meal.’

So the Admiral sent back to his ship for everything that was needful,

and they feasted merrily under the trees. By the time they had finished

the peacock had come back with a robe for the Princess, in which the

Fairy arrayed her. It was of green and gold brocade, embroidered with

pearls and rubies, and her long golden hair was tied back with strings

of diamonds and emeralds, and crowned with flowers. The Fairy made her

mount beside her in the golden chariot, and took her on board the

Admiral’s ship, where she bade her farewell, sending many messages of

friendship to the Queen, and bidding the Princess tell her that she was

the fifth Fairy who had attended the christening. Then salutes were

fired, the fleet weighed anchor, and very soon they reached the port.

Here the King and Queen were waiting, and they received the Princess

with such joy and kindness that she could not get a word in edgewise,

to say how sorry she was for having run away with such a very poor

spirited Ambassador. But, after all, it must have been all Carabosse’s

fault. Just at this lucky moment who should arrive but King Merlin’s

son, who had become uneasy at not receiving any news from his

Ambassador, and so had started himself with a magnificent escort of a

thousand horsemen, and thirty body-guards in gold and scarlet uniforms,

to see what could have happened. As he was a hundred times handsomer

and braver than the Ambassador, the Princess found she could like him

very much. So the wedding was held at once, with so much splendour and

rejoicing that all the previous misfortunes were quite forgotten.[1]

[1] La Princesse Printanière. Par Mme. d’Aulnoy.