VAIN KESTA

VAIN KESTA

Once upon a time there lived a young girl called Kesta who was the dairy-maid at a large farm. She milked the cows and made the cheese and butter, and sometimes took them into the town to sell for her master.

On the farm worked a man named Adam. He drove in the cows for Kesta to milk and watched her milking them. As she was a comely-looking girl and did her work well, he thought she would make him a good wife; so one day he said, “Kesta, how would you like to marry me? and then we can save our money and some day buy a farm for ourselves, and I should be a farmer and you should be the farmer’s wife, and have servants to wait on you.”

“That I should like very much,” said Kesta, “but I can’t say yes, at once. To-morrow I am going to town with my cheeses, when I come back I will give you an answer.”

At night Kesta looked into her glass and said, “I wonder why Adam wishes to marry me? but as he does, most likely some better man would like to do so; it would be folly to marry him till I see if I can’t do better. I must look about me when I go to town to-morrow, and see who I can meet.”

In the morning she dressed herself with great care in her best clothes, and set out for the town with the cheeses in a basket under her arm. When she had got a little way she passed a mill, and the miller all white with flour stood in the yard directing his men. He was an oldish man, and his wife was recently dead, and Kesta thought as she drew near, it would be a better thing to marry him than to marry poor Adam, so she said, “Good-day, would you kindly let me rest a little?”

“Certainly, my girl,” said the miller, “you seem to be out of breath?”

“And well I may be,” said Kesta, “such a run as I have had. I’ve come from the farm yonder, and it was as much as I could do to get away, for the farmer’s man was very angry because I would not marry him, and of course I am too good for him, a pretty girl like me.”

“Are you really a pretty girl?” said the miller; “let me see, perhaps you are. Well, if you are too good for the farmer’s man perhaps you would suit me. How would you like to marry me, and live in the mill-house yonder?”

“I think I should like it well,” said Kesta, “but I have some business in the town, and must go there first, so I’ll stop here and tell you as I come back.” So she said good-bye, and went on her way feeling very merry.

“It would be much better to marry the miller than to marry Adam, but who knows if I may not do better than either, so I must not be in any hurry.” So she walked on, and near to the town she met a man on a white horse, and saw it was the bailiff of the great Duke at the Palace. “Who knows but that he may want a wife?” she said to herself, “I can but try.” So she sat down by the road-side and called out, “Ah me, what a thing it is to be a poor girl who has to run away from all the men she meets!”

“Why,” cried the bailiff, stopping his horse. “Why have you to run? who tries to hurt you?”

“No one tries to hurt me,” said Kesta, “but I have to run from men who want to marry me, because I am so pretty. At first it was a man at our farm, and now it is the miller, who would not let me pass his door unless I promised to come back and marry him, but I am far too good for such as he.”

“Is this really so?” cried the bailiff, who hated the miller; “did the miller really want to marry you? If you’re too good to marry him, it may be you would suit me.”

“Indeed,” said Kesta, “I think that might do well, for I should live in a nice house and have plenty of servants. But I have to go into the town on business, and you’re sure to be somewhere about here, and when I come back we will arrange it.” So she set off, leaving the bailiff chuckling at the thought of how angry the miller would be if he married Kesta.

On went Kesta in high good-humour. “Now am I indeed doing well,” said she; “how clever I was not to marry Adam before I came to town.” Presently she reached the town, and in the high street she passed the bank, and the banker himself stood in the doorway. He was fat and ugly and old, but his hands were covered with rings, and Kesta knew his pockets were full of gold. Kesta said, “It would be a fine thing to marry him, and I could hold up my head with any one. I think I’ll speak to him, as it would be folly to pass him without trying.” So she gave a loud sigh and said, “Alack a day, how hard is my lot!”

“Why, what is wrong, my pretty lass?” said the banker.

“Pretty you may well say,” answered Kesta. “Would I were not so, for thence come all my troubles.”

“And what are they?” asked the banker.

“Only wherever I go, I have no peace, for all the men want to marry me. First it is the farmer, then the miller, and lastly the duke’s bailiff, who would scarcely let me pass on the road till I had promised him; and of course it is impossible, and I am much too pretty for any of them.”

“Is this really true?” cried the banker; “if so, there must be something very superior about you. Perhaps you would be good enough for me. How would you like to be my wife, and ride in a fine carriage, and wear silk gowns all day?”

“Nay, that would be much more fitting,” cried Kesta, “and from the first I thought you would be much more suitable to be my husband than any of the others I have met; but I must go down the town first, so I will come in here on my way back.” So she went on till she came to a great square in front of the barracks where the soldiers were drilling, with their helmets and swords glittering in the sun, and at their head rode the General of the army. His voice was hoarse with shouting at his men, and he swore dreadfully, but he was covered with gold, and looked very grand. “Now supposing he has no wife,” thought Kesta, “it would be a really fine thing to marry him: I can but try.” So she waited till the soldiers were marching into the barracks, and then, when he was riding away, she went so close under the horse’s feet that he shouted to her in case she should be run over. “Alas! what a life is mine,” she cried very loud that he might hear, “hunted here and there till I don’t know where I go!”

“Why, who hunts you?” cried the General angrily; “what nonsense you talk, my good girl.”

“How dare you say I talk nonsense,” cried Kesta, “when it is as much as I can do to get through your town for the men who want me to stop and marry them!”

“And why do they want you to marry them?” asked the General.

“Because I’m so pretty, of course,” said Kesta promptly, and she took off her hat and looked up at the General.

“I don’t think you are so pretty,” he said.

“But I am,” cried Kesta angrily, “and it’s only stupid people who don’t see it. Go and ask the men in the town. First it was a man at the farm, then the miller, then the duke’s bailiff, then the banker—they all wanted to marry me, and I am much too good for any of them!”

“If this is all true,” said the General, “of course you must be exceedingly pretty, and as you say you are much too good for them, perhaps you might suit me. How would you like that?”

“That might be better,” said Kesta, “and as you wish it very much I will agree, and I hope you will try to make me a good husband; but I am obliged to go a little further on important business, and I will meet you here on my way back,” and on she went laughing to herself. “Indeed I am fortunate,” thought she; “and as they all seem willing to marry me why should I not try higher, and see what the Duke himself would say? There is nothing like being practical, and it would be downright silly not to speak to the Duke now I am here.” By this time she had come to the Duke’s palace, so she stopped a servant who was coming out and asked if he were at home, for she said, “I have special business with him.” “He is sitting by the stream in the garden, where he sits fishing all day, and you can go and speak to him if you choose,” said the servant. So Kesta went through the courtyard into the garden, and straight on to where the Duke sat beside the stream with a long rod in his hand fishing. He was dressed all in green, and seemed to be half asleep, and Kesta came quite near him before he saw her. Then she said, “Ah, pity me, your Grace, and listen to my sad story.”

“Good gracious! who are you?—don’t you know I am the Duke?” said he.

“And that is why I have come to you to ask you to protect me from all the men who pursue me,” said Kesta.

“Why do they pursue you?” asked the Duke.

“Because I am so pretty,” replied Kesta. “They all want to marry me: first the man at the farm, then the miller I met on the road, then your bailiff, then the banker, then the General of your army, and he would only let me go when I promised to go back to him.”

“The General!” said the Duke. “Is this true? does he really want to marry you?”

“Of course he does,” said Kesta; “if you doubt what I say you had better send to the town and ask.”

“Indeed,” said the Duke, “I should not have thought you so very pretty, but if what you say is true you must be. I’m not sure if it would not suit me to marry you myself; but mind, I shall be exceedingly angry if I find you have not told me the truth, and they did not want to marry you. Of course you would be delighted to marry me and be the Duchess?”

“Aye, that I should,” cried Kesta, and she grinned with delight.

Then the Duke took from his side a horn and blew it loudly. There came from the palace four pages, dressed in blue and gold, who stood in a row to receive his orders. “See,” cried the Duke, “I am going to marry this lady, who everybody thinks is very beautiful, so see that you treat her with respect; and go to the palace and bid them to prepare a feast and fitting clothes for the bride, and tell the chaplain to be ready, for I mean to marry her at once.”

“And now,” he said to Kesta, when all his pages had returned to the palace, “come and sit by me and watch me fish till all is ready.”

So Kesta sat by his side and watched him fishing with his long rod, but after a time she grew tired of being silent, and said, “What have you caught?”

“Nothing yet,” said the Duke.

“Then why do you go on?” asked she.

“Because I’m sure to catch something soon, and it’s amusing. Wouldn’t you like to hold the rod a little?”

“Yes, very much,” answered Kesta, who was afraid of offending him. So she put out her hand to take the rod, and as she did so the basket fell from her arm and the cheeses rolled out.

“What are those round balls?” asked the Duke, “and what an odd smell they have.”

“They are my cheeses,” cried Kesta; “I made them yesterday, and was taking them to sell, when——”

“Good gracious, you made them!” cried the Duke with a scream. “Then you must be a common dairy-maid, and your hands are quite rough. How terrible! And I was just going to marry you. How dare you think yourself good enough to marry me!” and he sprang to his feet in a towering passion, and seizing his horn blew it so loudly that the four pages ran up in great alarm. “Hunt her away,” cried the Duke, “she is an impostor—a common farm wench and makes cheeses. She thought herself good enough to be the Duchess!”

Away flew Kesta, with the pages after her hooting and shouting, “Down with the impertinent hussy who wanted to marry the Duke, a common dairy-maid who makes cheeses.”

On rushed Kesta till she came to the General’s house, and at his window he sat in his fine uniform. He sat waiting for her, but when he saw the pages behind her he called, “Hey-dey, what is all this fuss about?”

“It is nothing,” said Kesta. “See, I have come back to marry you as I promised.”

But here the pages shouted, “Away with the impertinent dairy-maid, who thought herself good enough to marry the Duke.”

“And wouldn’t the Duke marry her?” asked the General.

“Of course not; she is nothing but a farm wench,” cried the pages, “and she is to be chased from the town for her impertinence.”

“And so she shall,” cried the General; “she thought she was fit for me too—it is disgraceful!” and he cried to some soldiers who stood by his door, “Here, my men, help to chase this good-for-nothing hussy out of the town.”

But before he had finished Kesta was running down the street with all her might to the banker’s. At last she came to the banker’s big square house standing beside the bank, and on the steps was the banker himself in his shiny black clothes with gold rings on his hands.

“Here I am,” cried Kesta; “and let me in quickly, for I am out of breath with running.”

“Why have you hurried so?” cried the banker, and as he spoke the pages and the soldiers came round the corner, “and what is all this shouting for?”

“Nay, how should I know?” cried Kesta, running into the house.

But up came her pursuers, crying, “Away with her! down with her!”

“Who is it you are calling after?” asked the banker.

“That wench in the yellow dress who has gone into your house.”

“Why, what has she done?” he asked.

“Why, she thought herself good enough to marry the Duke and the General, and she is to be hooted out of the town for her impudence!”

“But didn’t the General want to marry her?” asked the banker.

“Our General!” cried the soldiers angrily; “why, she’s only a dairy-maid, and not fit for him.”

“Then I’m sure she can’t be good enough for me, for I’m quite as good as he,” said the banker, and he ran into the house in a great rage, crying, “Begone, you impertinent jade! how dare you think yourself good enough for me to marry!” It chanced at this moment that the clerks were coming out of the bank next door, and when he saw them he cried, “Here, my good fellows, help to chase this minx from the town; she wishes to be my wife, when she is nothing but a common dairy-maid.” On this the clerks burst out laughing, and one and all ran after Kesta, who ran with all her might and main.

“It’s too hard,” sobbed she; “what have I done to be treated like this?” But run as fast as she might she could not reach the bailiff’s house before them, and the pages, soldiers, and clerks were all close to her, shouting and laughing.

“Why, what’s the matter?” cried the bailiff, “and why are you shouting at this poor maid?”

“Why,” said they, “she wanted to marry first the Duke, and the General, and the banker, and of course they would not have her, because she is only a common dairy wench.”

“What impertinence!” cried the bailiff; “and, now I come to think of it, she asked to marry me too; indeed she merits punishment for such behaviour,” and seeing some of his farm people close at hand, he bid them run after Kesta and drive her out of the town. But this time she had started first, and had got on to the mill before they could reach her, and she ran into the garden where the miller was. “Well, I’m glad to see you back,” said he, “but how hard you have run.”

“I was in such a hurry to get back. Now let’s go into the house,” she said.

“Come along,” said the miller; “but what are all those people shouting for?”

“’Tis only the farmers bringing home pigs from the market,” said Kesta, but she felt frightened, for she heard the people calling after her.

“Pigs don’t make a noise like that,” said the miller, “I will go and see what it is about.” And when he heard that they were all shouting at Kesta, he flew into a violent rage and cried, “If she wasn’t good enough for the bailiff I’m sure she’s not fit for me,” and he called to some of his men who were working at the mill, “See there, my men, do you see that girl? throw some flour at her, for she is an impudent hussy, and asked me to marry her.”

Away flew Kesta again, and after her came all the crowd in a long line. “How unfortunate I am,” she sobbed; “but anyhow I can go back to Adam; he’s sure to be glad to have me,” and on she sped, and at last she came to the farm and ran in, calling to Adam.

“Is that you, Kesta?” cried Adam, coming to meet her, and kissing her. “I’m glad to see you, but why are you so hot?”

“It is the sun, it was so strong,” said Kesta.

“Then sit down and grow cool,” said Adam. “But I wonder what all that shouting outside can be?”

“It is only people making holiday,” cried Kesta. But for all she could say Adam went out to ask the people what they wanted at the farm?

“We want nothing at the farm,” they cried, “but we followed that impudent wench dressed in yellow.”

“Why, what has she done?” asked Adam.

“Done!” they cried. “Why, she came up to the town and asked to marry the miller, and the banker, and the bailiff, and the General, and even the Duke himself, so she deserves to be punished for her presumption.”

Then Adam looked very grave, and went back to the farm and said, “Indeed, Kesta, I cannot marry you now, since you’ve been to the town and tried to get a finer husband than me,” and he went back to his work, and left Kesta sitting all alone; and there she sat and cried by herself, and did not get any husband after all, because she was so false and vain.