Fairy dreams

The palace clock with twelve sonorous peals announced the hour of noon; and as the last vibrating echo died away, King Merowald entered the audience-chamber and seated himself upon the throne, looking around upon the nobles and courtiers who stood about him.

“Is there any among you who would ask a boon of the king?” inquired he, in a gracious voice.

A short pause ensued, and then from the lower end of the hall, a handsome, graceful youth approached quickly and knelt upon one knee before the throne.

The aged king bent forward with a movement of surprise; the glittering crowd of courtiers rustled their silken garments for a moment, and each moved a step forward, and then a breathless silence filled that vast chamber; for the graceful youth kneeling so humbly there, his arms crossed, his head bowed low upon his breast, was Rudolf, the only and well-beloved son of the monarch before whom he knelt.

The silence was broken by the tremulous voice of the old king.

“My son, what seek you?” asked he.

“A boon, my gracious lord and father.”

“And what?” inquired again the king.

“I ask permission, my father, to go out into the world to seek the flower of which I have dreamed, and which alone can make me happy.”

“What is the flower, my son?”

“Alas, dear father, I cannot tell; the dream has fled, and I can neither recall the form, the color, or the name of this exquisite blossom, although if I should find it, I should certainly recognize it, and without it I cannot live.”

“Go first, my son,” said the king, after a long pause, “to Althoso, and ask his advice. If he bid you go, I will not refuse my consent.”

Prince Rudolf rose, and, bowing low, left the audience-chamber. Passing through several long corridors and galleries, he arrived at a low-arched door and knocked loudly.

The door was presently opened by a short, crooked little man, with an enormous hump upon his back, who, twisting his head so as to look up into the prince’s face, croaked out:

“Oh, it’s the handsome prince to-day, is it? Well, well, they all have to come to us.”

Prince Rudolf paid no attention to the ugly dwarf, but mounted rapidly the steep, winding stairs which lay before him, until he arrived at another door similar to that he had just passed. Here again he knocked, but this time softly, and almost timidly.

“Who is there?” asked a deep voice.

“Prince Rudolf,” replied the young man.

The heavy door swung slowly open. “Enter, prince,” replied the voice; and Rudolf obeying, found himself in a small room, crowded with books, drawings, and papers.

At one side glowed a charcoal furnace, over which, in an iron pan, some strange compound was bubbling. Various utensils and preparations were scattered near it, as if the prince’s entrance had interrupted in some important operation the old man who stood in the middle of the little room, his long purple gown wrapped about him, and his dark eyes fixed upon the face of the visitor.

“And what does Prince Rudolf seek of me?” asked he, at length.

“My father has sent me to ask your advice, wise Althoso,” replied the prince. “For seven nights have I dreamed of a lovely flower, which, while I hold it, fills my whole soul with joy; but when I awake, I can no longer remember the name of the flower, nor its form, color, or perfume; yet should I see it, I should at once know it. Can you tell me, O wise Althoso! the name or the home of this blossom, without which I must surely die?”

The old man smiled sadly and shook his head. “Prince,” said he, “if you would value the flower, you must seek it for yourself. Could I give it to you, or tell you where to find it, you would not value it an hour. Go out into the wide world and seek it, but stop—you may not know your flower among all you will find in the world, although you think so now. Here is a white veil which I prepared for you, knowing that you would come to me, and here is a spear with a diamond point. When you have found a flower which you think may be yours, throw the veil over it; if the veil remains white and whole, leave it there till you have slept, then pluck the flower and bring it home. But should the veil show itself soiled or rent, there is not your flower; seize the veil and fly. Should you be detained by enchantments which you cannot break through, use your diamond pointed spear: before it every charm will fall. Now go, my son, and leave me to my labors.”

The old man turned to his furnace as he spoke, and began stirring the mixture in the iron pan, which presently sent up a hot, stinging vapor, which filled the whole room.

Seizing the glistening white veil and the sharp, strong lance which lay upon the table, Rudolf ran down the stairs past the dwarf, who opened the door, and, hastening to his own chamber, packed in a knapsack a few clothes, and the picture of his mother, who had died when he was an infant. Then as the palace clock struck one, the prince entered the apartment of his father, who had soon returned to it from the hall of audience.

Rudolf, kneeling again before him, told him of the words of Althoso; showed him the veil and the spear, and besought his father’s blessing and permission to set out.

These the old king bestowed upon him, not without tears; and, wiping his own eyes, Rudolf kissed his father’s hand, and descended to the stables, where he called for his own horse, Sunbeam, and springing upon his back, rode bravely out into the world.

Many days prince Rudolf travelled, and many lovely flowers did he see, both wild by the roadside, and carefully sheltered in gardens; but none of these for a moment made him think of the flower of his dream, and he was growing very sad and discouraged, when, one sultry summer noon, he found himself in a large forest, through which wound a smooth, pleasant road, along which Sunbeam trotted gayly, his little hoofs making no sound upon the thick, soft turf.

All at once through the dusky shadows, which even in the brightest day brooded among those giant trees, the prince caught a glimpse of something shining dimly, which reminded him of the bright gardens which he had passed through on previous days.

Dismounting, and tying Sunbeam to a tree, so that he could reach the sweet grass which grew all about, prince Rudolf, taking his spear in his hand, pushed aside the underwood which barred his progress, and made his way toward the dimly seen object which had attracted him.

For a short distance, the forest was almost impenetrable. High, stiff shrubs, growing closely together, impeded him on every side; and at the end of half an hour, prince Rudolf paused, hot and weary, and half resolved to give up the attempt. Just then, however, he perceived a narrow but well-defined path opening at his feet, and leading in the direction of these glowing flowers. Following this eagerly, the prince in a few moments found himself before an arched gateway, surmounted by a gorgeous wreath of tulips of every possible color, and fresh as if just placed there. The entrance was barred by the thick, sword-like leaves of the plant, which were thickly interlaced across the opening, while the woody stalks, growing to an immense size and height, formed the framework of the portal.

The prince stood for a moment looking at this singular and beautiful gate, and longing to enter, when, to his great surprise, the sword leaves bent gracefully to the ground, and seemed to invite him to pass through the portal thus opened.

The gay young prince entered with a beating heart, and the leaves closed immediately behind him.

Before him lay a path strewn thickly with gold, and glittering and flashing in the sun, while on each side extended a large and beautiful garden, divided by golden paths like that which he was treading. Every bed was thickly set with gorgeous blossoms, but the prince observed with astonishment that there were no flowers but tulips; double and single, small and large, of every tint and variety, but still all tulips. Standing quite still in the midst of this collection, prince Rudolf looked about him for a gardener, of whom he could make some inquiries. No one was to be seen: on the borders of the immense garden rose the gloomy and impenetrable forest, looking more sullen and forbidding from its contrast with the flashing, gorgeous colors of the flowers and the gold-strewn paths.

At the farthest extremity of the garden was a sort of grove of a certain variety of the tulip, growing to a size perfectly prodigious, and surrounding and overshadowing what appeared to be a summer-house or arbor. Toward this the prince now hastened, hoping to find at last some owner of this glowing garden; but on penetrating the circle of tree-like stems, he paused in utter astonishment, for what he supposed a building was in reality an immense tulip as large as a small room, plucked from its stem and turned upside down, so that it formed a sort of tent, the curtains of which were the velvety petals of the flower, gayly striped with scarlet and gold.

Prince Rudolf stood for a moment, as I have said, lost in astonishment; then lifting the edge of one of the curtains, soft and thick as velvet, he entered with some hesitation this strange pavilion. At first he could distinguish nothing clearly in the dim light which found its way through the thick curtains; but presently he perceived that he stood beside a straight and polished column of gold, which with five others upheld the tent, and answered to the stamens of an ordinary tulip. To the pistil of the plant was attached a petal of a very small tulip, which waved constantly backward and forward, causing a gentle breeze, which softly fanned away the sultriness of the heated air.

Directly under this fan was heaped up a mass of tulip petals, making a delightfully soft and elastic couch, upon which reclined gracefully the most beautiful maiden whom Rudolf had ever beheld. Her rich, dark hair, combed straight back from her white forehead, was thickly powdered with gold dust, and formed into a crown upon the top of her head, around which was a wreath of small tulips of a brilliant crimson, streaked and splashed with gold: her large, sleepy brown eyes were fixed upon the face of the young prince, while her full scarlet lips smiled a welcome to the handsome youth. Her dress, which left bare her lovely shoulders and round, dimpled arms, was of the same glowing, gorgeous colors as the drapery of her tent, and everywhere upon it glittered the gold dust which powdered her hair.

“O the lovely flower! O my tulip queen!” whispered Rudolf, sinking upon his knee. The tulip maiden said not a word, but only smiled more lovingly, and fixed more earnestly her great eyes upon those of the prince, as she sat upright upon the couch, making her gorgeous gold-sprinkled robe flash and glitter as she moved.

“O queenly tulip! will you come with me and be the flower of my life?” whispered the prince, rising and moving timidly toward her.

Still the maiden spoke not; only moved gracefully forward as a flower upon its stem.

“Thus then I make you mine,” exclaimed Rudolf, drawing from his breast the magic veil, and throwing it over the head of the maiden.

But no sooner had the pure white tissue touched the dark and glowing hair, than it became smirched and soiled, and the maiden fell back upon her couch of petals, which now looked withered, broken, and decaying; her rich robe showed that it was soiled and rent in many places; her pure white skin was covered with blotches and pimples, and the delicate color of her cheeks deepened to a swarthy, lurid red; her languid eyes lost all their beauty, and glowed with a sullen fire; her graceful figure lost its elasticity, and instead of soft repose, expressed only a careless indolence and slothful abandonment. The air grew suffocating with a heavy perfume, so powerful as to be quite nauseous.

Prince Rudolf gazed a moment in horror; then, snatching the veil now limp and soiled, he rushed from the pavilion. But outside all seemed changed. The golden paths appeared to writhe about like great serpents, twisting themselves together, and utterly bewildering him who tried to follow them: all the millions of tulips in the flower beds were nodding and waving distractedly upon their stems, clashing their stiff leaves together, till the air seemed filled with the threatening music of an approaching army.

For a few moments, Prince Rudolf rushed at random hither and thither, backward and forward, round and round, but without making the least progress toward the gate. Suddenly remembering the spear which the Sage Althoso had given him, and which he had all this time carried fastened to his belt without thinking of it, he drew it and struck furiously all about him, at the paths, the beds, and the warlike tulips.

Immediately every thing resumed its former condition, and became beautiful and quiet as when the prince first entered the garden. Hastening along the now stationary path, Rudolf soon found himself before the entrance gate. But the stiff leaves did not now yield before him; on the contrary, turning their sharp edges toward him, one close above the other, they presented an impenetrable barrier. Rudolf laughing, touched them with the point of his spear, and instantly they drooped, languid and broken upon their stems.

The prince leaped through, and found himself again in the wild forest, but all trace of a path had disappeared; and the bewildered youth might have exhausted himself in useless struggles, had not the loud neighing of Sunbeam, who had become very impatient, directed the prince to the place where he had left him. Again mounting his horse, Rudolf rode slowly on, thinking deeply of what he had just seen. Taking the veil from his breast, he regarded it sorrowfully, thinking it quite ruined; but, to his surprise, it was fresh and pure as when Althoso first gave it to him. “Thanks, dear veil,” murmured the prince, replacing it in his bosom; and, fixing his eyes vacantly upon Sunbeam’s head, he again rode on many a long mile, till the stopping of the horse caused him to look around.

To his great surprise he found himself in a dense jungle. The very trees were different from any thing he had seen before. Oaks, walnuts, and birches had disappeared, and instead, on every side, rose the stately palm, the graceful banana, and the gigantic ferns of the tropics. Around and among these trees climbed flaunting vines, loaded with scarlet flowers, while innumerable birds of the most gorgeous plumage, but of harsh and startling note, flitted about, looking like flying blossoms from the drooping vines.

Sunbeam had stopped in the centre of a little open space, shaded by the nodding heads of the palms; and the creepers, which had leaped across from side to side, forming a living canopy to this little glade. On every side further progress was stopped by the dense foliage, except one little path just wide enough for the prince to pass, but not for Sunbeam. Leaving the horse, who neighed uneasily at seeing his master disappear, Rudolf entered the narrow path, which was bordered on each side by immense vines of the cactus plant interlacing themselves overhead, and so loaded with flowers that not a stem or thorn was visible. The pathway was illuminated, and the fiery hue of the flowers exhibited by the light of myriads of fireflies who flitted in every direction, now darting into the royal purple heart of a speciocissimus; now poising themselves on the pink corolla of a truncatus, now bending lightly the silvery stamens of a gloriosus, and then settling upon the tangled curls of the prince’s head. All at once the path ended at the entrance of a glade, similar to that which he had first entered; only in this, the very ground was covered with cactus blossoms, placed so closely together as to leave no trace of earth or vine visible, and forming a carpet such as no weaver on earth could equal. All around the sides and overhead climbed the vines and swung the blossoms, screamed the birds, and flitted the fireflies.

As prince Rudolf stood entranced at the entrance of this flower palace, he was saluted by a shower of silvery pollen, which was thrown in his face and all over him, while a loud peal of shrill laughter made him wipe his eyes and look hastily round. Just above his head, in a loop of the strong vine, he saw a slender figure clad in a gauzy green dress, trimmed round the skirt and neck with a border of scarlet blossoms, a wreath of which also crowned the long, dark hair which flowed loosely about her pliant form and encircled her slender waist.

Holding the vine lightly with one hand, the laughing, teasing girl stripped from the blossoms near her the silvery pollen, and dashed it in the upturned face of the prince, who, entering into the frolic with the thoughtless gayety of a boy, pelted her in turn with whole handfuls of flowers which he stripped from the vines near him, at first carefully through fear of the thorns, but more recklessly when he perceived, that, instead of standing out from the stem, these obliging spines folded themselves close down upon it, and thus were perfectly harmless. At last, Rudolf began to pursue the laughing, mocking maiden up and down the ladder-like vines, sometimes almost grasping her fluttering robe, then seeing her place herself at one bound far beyond his reach, only to peep laughingly out at him from her flowery hiding-place. At last, weary and hopeless of success, prince Rudolf descended to the ground, and, throwing himself upon the flower carpet, pretended to be asleep.

Soon he perceived by a light crackling of the branches that the green-robed maiden was also descending and approaching him. Presently, through his half-closed eyes, he could distinguish her flitting about her gleaming bower, until at last she threw herself down also to repose after the mad chase.

Taking carefully from his bosom the gauzy veil, the prince silently approached the maiden, who now slept, or at least pretended to, and with a sudden movement threw it over her graceful figure.

The effect, though different, was as startling as with the tulip princess. From the wreath upon her head, from the girdle about her waist, from the borders of her robe, sharp, piercing thorns projected in every direction, rending and tearing the poor veil into tatters, while the closed eyes of the maiden flew open to emit rays of furious anger, while her full red lips curved themselves into a scornful, withering smile; and with those pretty fingers, which had so gracefully thrown flowers at the prince, but which were now armed each with a long, claw-like talon, she sought to rend away the veil, which embarrassed her motions, that she might rush upon the astonished youth.

Rudolf did not wait for her to free herself, but, seizing a fragment of the veil, he turned and rushed into the flowery passage, which was now dark and gloomy, for the fireflies had all hidden themselves; and from between the gay flowers at the sides, overhead, and underfoot, long thorns projected venomously, and would have entirely stopped any progress on the part of the prince, had he not laid about on every side with his spear, and thus succeeded, though not without the greatest difficulty, in regaining the spot where he had left Sunbeam, whom he found surrounded by furious parrots, macaws, and other tropical birds, who, flinging themselves at him, hit him with their long beaks, and tore him with their talons, so that the poor creature’s cries filled the whole forest.

With great difficulty and by the free use of his spear, Rudolf succeeded in driving them away, and then, perceiving a slight opening in the jungle, he threw himself into it; and finally, just as the last rays of daylight were dying away, he and Sunbeam found themselves, faint, weary, and exhausted, torn with thorns and wounded by fierce birds, once more upon the turfy road, which they had so unfortunately quitted. Taking some food and a little silver cup from his wallet, the prince threw himself upon the ground beside a cool spring, whose trickling music had betrayed its vicinity, and, having eaten, drank, and bathed, pillowed his head upon Sunbeam’s shoulder, and slept peacefully all through the night.

With the first blush of morning, prince Rudolf arose and refreshed himself with a simple repast, and a long draught of water from the little rivulet, whose icy coldness in that sultry summer weather much surprised him. “I will follow the stream a little way, and see whence it draws this pure, cold water, while poor Sunbeam finishes his breakfast.”

Murmuring these words half aloud, the prince fastened the bridle in such a manner that the horse should have full liberty to graze, yet be prevented from escaping, and proceeded slowly along the bank of the little stream, which, murmuring and complaining, grew more and more narrow, and tempted the youth from one bend to another, by promising to diminish to its fountainhead within a short distance.

At last, just as Rudolf, somewhat vexed at his frequent disappointments, was about to turn back, a gleam of some large object like a house shone through the trees in the rays of the rising sun, and the prince hastened to turn a sharp, projecting bend of the stream, to see more clearly what this white building could be in the lonely forest. As he turned the angle of the stream he started in astonishment.

Close beside the fountain of the rivulet rose a white marble pavilion, its slender columns sculptured to represent lily stems, with the flowers rising as a wreath about the light and graceful roof.

In the centre of the marble floor stood a chair and footstool, also of marble, and seated upon it, as upon a throne, was a fair and stately woman, upright and immovable, her abundant flaxen hair braided and carried about her head in the form of a crown, which seemed indeed a far more fitting ornament to her queenly beauty than a simple wreath. Her robe was of a stiff, white silk, embroidered with gold thread; upon her arms and throat were golden ornaments set with pearls; in her beautiful hand, white and cold as marble, she held as a sceptre a magnificent lily, fit emblem of her queenly beauty.

Rudolf gazed silently a few moments in admiration of that fair and sovereign face; then, seeing that her cold blue eyes did not turn toward him, he ventured to steal softly up behind her and to throw over that regal head the magic veil.

For a moment there was no change; then, as the prince gazed eagerly yet half regretfully at the proud, handsome face beneath the folds, and wondered if his search was over, a slight shudder passed through that motionless form; the faint rose tinge faded utterly from the cheek and lip; the pale blue eyes lost all color; the hair became white as the brow it surrounded, and, where Rudolf had found a stately queen, he now beheld only a marble statue.

As he gazed horror stricken, the veil, stiffening as if frozen, broke in two pieces, and with a light, tinkling sound fell upon the marble floor.

Already a death chill ran through the veins of the young prince, and he was on the point of sinking down lifeless at the feet of the marble lily queen, when with a strong effort he snatched the veil from the floor, and hastened as quickly as his torpid limbs would allow from that icy throne. Pursuing again the windings of the brook, he soon reached the side of his good horse, and, mounting hastily, put him to his speed. For a considerable time he continued his journey without meeting with any adventure of importance; but it so happened one day, as he was dreaming of his father’s court and of what they would say to his adventures, that he seemed suddenly enveloped in a soft and fragrant air, while his ears were greeted with the warblings of hundreds of merry little birds.

Turning suddenly, he perceived a wide and gently ascending path leading off from the main road. Down this path came the soft gush of perfume and music which had aroused him.

Again did the prince find himself overshadowed with festooning vines; but this time they were roses, which peeped and nodded to him at every turn, roses whose soft petals fluttered down upon his head and carpeted his path, while their delicate fragrance filled the air. Roses of every hue and degree; white, blush pink and deepest crimson, single roses and double roses, climbing roses and tree roses, moss roses and thornless roses; every rose that ever bloomed on this round earth clustered along that pathway, each crowding before its neighbor to look at the handsome prince, and nod a joyous welcome to him.

Dismounting from his horse and holding his plumed cap in his hand, Rudolf walked slowly along the path, hoping, at every turn, to find the divinity of this rose Eden. Nor had he long to look, for as the path, making a sudden turn, came to an end, Rudolf saw before him a bower formed by two graceful birches, which, arching toward each other, supported, the one a white, the other a crimson climbing rose, which, in their riotous luxuriance, having clothed every twig of the bending birches with their blossoms, and interlaced above, waved exultingly in the air their graceful, verdant limbs, as if to boast triumphantly of having overcome every obstacle.

Upon a gently sloping bank beneath this odorous canopy reclined a graceful maiden, clothed in a pure white robe, her golden hair curling loosely about her snow-white shoulders, and her blue eyes gently beaming with love and purity. A few moss-rose buds nestling at her bosom, and a slender garland of wild roses about her head, were her only ornaments. Upon her finger sat a ring-dove, to whose plaintive cooing the maiden replied with soft caresses. A pair of humming-birds buzzed about her head, plunging their dagger-like bills into the roses of her garland, while a honey-bee loaded himself with sweets from the buds at her bosom. All about her feet bloomed the wild roses, and a tall bush of sweetbriar nodded caressingly over her fair head.

Prince Rudolf gazed eagerly at the beautiful picture for a moment, then threw himself at the feet of the rose sylph.

“O flower of my dream!” murmured he, “have I at last found you? Art thou the rose I sought? Wilt thou leave thy bower to bloom for me only? Shall thy perfume and thy sweets be for my home and my people?”

The maiden said never a word, only her fair head drooped lower and lower, and she hid her blushing face in her slender hands.

Gently and carefully the prince threw over that sunny head the magic veil, which again was fair and whole as the day he received it, but, oh sad and disappointing result! beneath the gauzy folds no longer was visible the graceful form of a blushing maid, but only a slender bush crowned with one lovely blush rose, its yellow stamens the color of the maiden’s hair.

Grieved and disappointed, Rudolf stood regarding the transformation. Suddenly he remembered the words of the wise Althoso: “If the veil remains white and whole, leave it there till you have slept, then pluck the flower and bring it home.”

White and whole the veil certainly was; and throwing himself upon the ground, Rudolf resolutely closed his eyes, nor did he open them till the hum of the birds and bees, the warmth of the summer morning, and the stillness of the spot, had granted him the sleep he so longed for.

It was not, however, long, and the sun had not yet reached his height, when Rudolf opening his eyes, started eagerly to his feet, and turned to look at the rose.

There it stood as he had left it;—a lovely rose, yet nothing but a rose.

Rudolf stood sadly before it, half resolved to pluck the flower from its tree and try to rest content with that, when a sudden thought flashed across his mind, and seizing his diamond spear, with its point he gently touched the rose-bush.

The effect was instantaneous. In the spot where a moment before had stood only a silent plant, Rudolf beheld with delight the slender figure of his rose maiden, her yellow hair circled with a garland of white moss buds, beneath which flowed the silvery folds of the veil, shading but not concealing the faint blush of her cheeks and the deep blue of her starry eyes, which timidly sought the ground.

“O my rose! O my lovely, long-sought flower!” cried the prince, seizing her soft, white hand.

“Come, my Rose, my Rosa Munda, my flower of the whole earth! come to bloom forever in my garden; to be cherished forever in my heart.”

The Rose drooped gently forward. The prince, taking her in his arms, placed her upon Sunbeam’s back, mounted behind her, and with joyous, loving hearts, they journeyed back to his father’s court, where, for very many long and happy years, the beauty of the gentle Rose made all around her happy and contented.