Young Folks Treasury, Volume 3 (of 12)
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Title: Young Folks Treasury, Volume 3 (of 12)
Editor: Hamilton Wright Mabie
Release date: April 6, 2005 [eBook #15560]
Most recently updated: December 14, 2020
Language: English
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YOUNG FOLKS' TREASURY
In 12 Volumes
HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, Editor
EDWARD EVERETT HALE, Associate Editor
VOLUME III: CLASSIC TALES AND OLD-FASHIONED STORIES
HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, Editor
DANIEL EDWIN WHEELER, Assistant Editor
New York
The University Society Inc.
Publishers
1909
PARTIAL LIST OF EDITORS AND CONTRIBUTORS
HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE
Editor
EDWARD EVERETT HALE
Associate Editor
DANIEL EDWIN WHEELER
Managing Editor
Partial List of Contributors, Assistant Editors and Advisers:
NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER, President Columbia University.
WILLIAM R. HARPER, Late President Chicago University.
Hon. THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Ex-President of the United States.
Hon. GROVER CLEVELAND, Late President of the United States.
JAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS, American Roman Catholic prelate.
LAWRENCE J. BURPEE, Librarian Ottawa Public Library; author of
"Canadian Life in Town and Country," etc.
BLISS CARMAN, poet, essayist, and editor.
THOMAS B. FLINT, Clerk House of Commons, Canada; editor "Parliamentary
Practice and Procedure."
AGNES C. LAUT, author "Lords of the North," "Hudson's Bay Company,"
etc.
BECKLES WILLSON, author of "The Romance of Canada," "Life and Letters
of James Wolfe," etc.
EDWARD W. BOK, editor "Ladies' Home Journal."
HENRY VAN DYKE, author, poet, and Professor of English Literature,
Princeton University.
LYMAN ABBOTT, author, editor of "The Outlook."
JACOB A. RIIS, author and journalist.
EDWARD EVERETT HALE, JR., Professor at Union College.
CHARLES G.D. ROBERTS, writer of animal stories.
JANET H. KELMAN, author "Stories from the Crusades," "A Book of
Butterflies," etc.
VAUTIER GOLDING, author "Life of Henry M. Stanley," etc.
LENA DALKEITH, author "A Book of Beasts," "Stories from French
History," etc.
H.E. MARSHALL, author "A Child's History of England." "History of
English Literature," etc.
JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS, creator of "Uncle Remus."
GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON, novelist and journalist.
WILLIAM BLAIKIE, author of "How to Get Strong and How to Stay So."
JOSEPH JACOBS, folklore writer and editor of the "Jewish
Encyclopedia."
Mrs. VIRGINIA TERHUNE ("Marlon Harland"), author of "Common Sense in
the Household," etc.
A.D. INNES, author "England Under the Tudors," "England's Industrial
Development," etc.
EDMUND F. SELLAR, author "Life of Nelson," etc.
MARY MACGREGOR, author "King Arthur's Knights," etc.
JEANIE LANG, author "Life of General Gordon," etc.
Rev. THEODORE WOOD, F.E.S., writer on natural history.
MARGARET E. SANGSTER, author of "The Art of Home-Making," etc.
HERBERT T. WADE, editor and writer on physics.
JOHN H. CLIFFORD, editor and writer.
ERNEST INGERSOLL, naturalist and author.
IDA PRENTICE WHITCOMB, author of "Young People's Story of Music,"
"Heroes of History," etc.
MARK HAMBOURG, pianist and composer.
Mme. BLANCHE MARCHESI, opera singer and teacher.
ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS, author "Historic Boys," etc.
PAULINE C. BOUVÉ, author "Stories of American Heroes for Boys and
Girls," etc.
CONTENTS
Introduction
CLASSIC TALES
Don Quixote
By Miguel Cervantes. Adapted by John Lang
I. HOW DON QUIXOTE WAS KNIGHTED
II. HOW DON QUIXOTE RESCUED ANDRES; AND HOW HE RETURNED HOME
III. HOW DON QUIXOTE AND SANCHO PANZA STARTED ON THEIR SEARCH FOR
ADVENTURES; AND HOW DON QUIXOTE FOUGHT WITH THE WINDMILLS
IV. HOW DON QUIXOTE WON A HELMET; HOW HE FOUGHT WITH TWO ARMIES; AND
HOW SANCHO'S ASS WAS STOLEN
V. HOW DON QUIXOTE SAW DULCINEA
VI. HOW DON QUIXOTE FOUGHT WITH A LION; AND HOW HE DEFEATED THE MOORS
VII. THE BATTLE WITH THE BULLS; THE FIGHT WITH THE KNIGHT OF THE WHITE
MOON; AND HOW DON QUIXOTE DIED
Gulliver's Travels: Voyage to Lilliput
By Jonathan Swift. Adapted by John Lang
I. GULLIVER'S BIRTH AND EARLY VOYAGES
II. GULLIVER IS WRECKED ON THE COAST OF LILLIPUT
III. GULLIVER IS TAKEN AS A PRISONER TO THE CAPITAL OF LILLIPUT
IV. GULLIVER IS FREED, AND CAPTURES THE BLEFUSCAN FLEET
V. GULLIVER'S ESCAPE FROM LILLIPUT AND RETURN TO ENGLAND
The Arabian Nights
Adapted by Amy Steedman
I. ALADDIN AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP
II. THE ENCHANTED HORSE
III. SINDBAD THE SAILOR
The Iliad of Homer
Adapted by Jeanie Lang
I. THE STORY Of WHAT LED TO THE SIEGE OF TROY
II. THE COUNCIL
III. THE FIGHT BETWEEN PARIS AND MENELAUS
IV. HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE
V. HOW PATROCLUS FOUGHT AND DIED
VI. THE ROUSING OF ACHILLES
The Odyssey of Homer
Adapted by Jeanie Lang
I. WHAT HAPPENED IN ITHACA WHILE ODYSSEUS WAS AWAY
II. HOW ODYSSEUS CAME HOME
Robinson Crusoe
By Daniel Defoe. Adapted by John Lang
I. HOW ROBINSON FIRST WENT TO SEA; AND HOW HE WAS SHIPWRECKED
II. ROBINSON WORKS HARD AT MAKING HIMSELF A HOME
III. THE EARTHQUAKE AND HURRICANE; AND HOW ROBINSON BUILT A BOAT
IV. ROBINSON BUILDS A SECOND BOAT, IN WHICH HE IS SWEPT OUT TO SEA
V. ROBINSON SEES A FOOTPRINT ON THE SAND, FINDS A CAVE, AND RESCUES
FRIDAY
VI. ROBINSON TRAINS FRIDAY AND THEY BUILD A LARGE BOAT; THEY RESCUE
TWO PRISONERS FROM THE CANNIBALS
VII. ARRIVAL OF AN ENGLISH SHIP: ROBINSON SAILS FOR HOME
Canterbury Tales
By Geoffrey Chaucer. Adapted by Janet Harvey Kelman
I. DORIGEN
II. EMELIA
III. GRISELDA
The Pilgrim's Progress
By John Bunyan. Adapted by Mary Macgregor
Tales from Shakespeare
By Charles and Mary Lamb
I. THE TEMPEST
II. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
OLD-FASHIONED STORIES
Simple Susan
By Maria Edgeworth. Adapted by Louey Chisholm
I. QUEEN OF THE MAY
II. BAD NEWS
III. SUSAN'S GUINEA-FOWL
IV. SUSAN VISITS THE ABBEY
V. SUSAN'S PET LAMB
VI. THE BLIND HARPER
VII. GOOD NEWS
VIII. BARBARA VISITS THE ABBEY
IX. A SURPRISE FOR SUSAN
X. BARBARA'S ACCIDENT
XI. THE PRIZE-GIVING
XII. ATTORNEY CASE IN TROUBLE
XIII. SUSAN'S BIRTHDAY
Limby Lumpy
The Sore Tongue
By Jane Taylor
Eyes and No Eyes, or The Art of Seeing
By John Aikin and Mrs. Barbauld
Prince Life
By G.P.R. James
The Fruits of Disobedience, or The Kidnapped Child
Dicky Random, or Good Nature Is Nothing Without Good Conduct
Embellishment
By Jacob Abbott
The Oyster Patties
Two Little Boys
By Thomas Day
I. THE GOOD-NATURED LITTLE BOY
II. THE ILL-NATURED LITTLE BOY
The Purple Jar
By Maria Edgeworth
The Three Cakes
By Armand Berquin
Amendment
Trial
By John Aikin and Mrs. Barbauld
A Plot of Gunpowder: An Old Lady Seized for a Guy
Ascribed to William Martin ("Peter Parley")
Uncle David's Nonsensical Story About Giants and Fairies
By Katherine Sinclair
The Inquisitive Girl
Busy Idleness
By Jane Taylor
The Renowned History of Little Goody Two-Shoes
Ascribed to Oliver Goldsmith
INTRODUCTION
I. HOW AND ABOUT LITTLE MARGERY AND HER BROTHER
II. HOW AND ABOUT MR. SMITH
III. HOW LITTLE MARGERY OBTAINED THE NAME OF GOODY TWO-SHOES, AND
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE PARISH
IV. HOW LITTLE MARGERY LEARNED TO READ, AND BY DEGREES TAUGHT OTHERS
V. HOW LITTLE TWO-SHOES BECAME A TROTTING TUTORESS, AND HOW SHE
TAUGHT HER YOUNG PUPILS
VI. HOW THE WHOLE PARISH WAS FRIGHTENED
VII. CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF ALL THE SPIRITS OR THINGS SHE SAW IN THE
CHURCH
VIII. OF SOMETHING WHICH HAPPENED TO LITTLE MARGERY TWO-SHOES IN A
BARN, MORE DREADFUL THAN THE GHOST IN THE CHURCH; AND HOW SHE
RETURNED GOOD FOR EVIL TO HER ENEMY, SIR TIMOTHY
IX. HOW LITTLE MARGERY WAS MADE PRINCIPAL OF A COUNTRY COLLEGE
(Part Two.) The Renowned History of Mrs. Margery Two-Shoes
I. OF HER SCHOOL, HER USHERS, OR ASSISTANTS, AND HER MANNER OF
TEACHING
II. A SCENE OF DISTRESS IN A SCHOOL
III. OF THE AMAZING SAGACITY AND INSTINCT OF A LITTLE DOG
IV. WHAT HAPPENED AT FARMER GROVE'S, AND HOW SHE GRATIFIED HIM FOR
THE USE OF HIS ROOM
V. THE CASE OF MRS. MARGERY
VI. THE TRUE USE OF RICHES
ILLUSTRATIONS
VOLUME III
THE HORSE FLEW THROUGH THE AIR
"PAY AT ONCE, YOU SCOUNDREL"
HORSE AND MAN WERE SENT ROLLING ON THE GROUND
THE BULLS HAD RUN RIGHT OVER HIM AND ROZINANTE
HE FOUND THAT HIS ARMS AND LEGS WERE TIGHTLY FASTENED TO THE GROUND
GULLIVER IN LILLIPUT
ON THIS OCCASION, GULLIVER ATE MORE THAN USUAL
ALADDIN AND THE MAGICIAN
HINDBAD WAS CARRYING A VERY HEAVY LOAD
FROM FAR AND WIDE DID THE GREEK HOSTS GATHER
ANDROMACHE IN CAPTIVITY
TELEMACHUS KNELT WHERE THE GRAY WATER BROKE ON THE SAND
THE ESCAPE FROM THE SHIPWRECK
HE SAW THE MARK OF A NAKED FOOT ON THE SAND
ROBINSON RAN TO THE WHITE PRISONER AND CUT HIS BONDS
ALAS! OF ALL THE SHIPS I SEE, IS THERE NEVER ONE THAT WILL BRING MY
LORD HOME?
THE CURTAIN AT THE DOORWAY WAS DRAWN ASIDE
THEN DID CHRISTIAN DRAW HIS SWORD
MIRANDA WATCHING THE STORM
THE FAIRIES SING TITANIA TO SLEEP
BENDING DOWN A BRANCH OF THE LABURNUM-TREE
"IT WON'T DO," SAID BARBARA, TURNING HER BACK
"AND HERE'S HER CROWN!" CRIED ROSE
SHE SPOKE OF WHAT SHE DID NOT UNDERSTAND
HE WAS WANTED TO HOLD THE JUG OF MILK
HE TOOK THE CURRANT TART, AND ... THREW IT AT HIS NURSE
ROSAMOND RAN UP TO IT WITH AN EXCLAMATION OF JOY
WIDOW DOROTHY CAREFUL MADE A CURTSEY
THE GOAT DASHED IN AMONG THEM AND THE CHAIR WAS UPSET
EACH OF MY VISITORS IS QUITE AN EXCLUSIVE
IF LOUISA RECEIVED A NOTE, SHE CAREFULLY LOCKED IT UP
(Many of the illustrations in this volume are reproduced by special
permission of E.P. Dutton & Company, owners of American rights.)
INTRODUCTION
I
CLASSIC TALES
After our boys and girls have read the first half of this volume,
containing selected and simplified stories from some of the greatest
books of all time, their authors will cease to be merely names. Homer,
Shakespeare, Chaucer, Cervantes and Bunyan will be found here as
familiar and easy in style as "Cinderella" or "The Three Bears." True
enough, the first word in "Classic Tales" may look somewhat alarming
to the eyes of youthful seekers after romance and adventure, but we
challenge them to turn to any one of these selections from immortal
masterpieces and not become spellbound and, moreover, impatient for
more. And, believing now that they have grown very much interested in
these famous books, of course we also believe they want to learn
something about them.
Following the order of our stories we must begin with "Don Quixote."
Its author wrote it under great difficulties and distress; but one
would never think so, as it is full of laughable doings. When you read
our selections you must not think that Don Quixote was merely a silly
old man, for indeed he was a very noble gentleman and tried with all
his might to do what he believed to be his duty, and in no act of his
life was there ever a stain of dishonor or of meanness. As for his
queer fancies, you will find in your own experience that many things
are not as they seem.
Next comes one of Gulliver's voyages. Under all this account of a tiny
race of people there is fun poked at government and its ministers.
But we do not concern ourselves with such matters--all we think about
is the wonderful deeds of Gulliver in the land of the Lilliputians. Do
not think such people are impossible, for did not Stanley, the
explorer, find in Africa a race of dwarfs so little that he called
them pygmies? And perhaps when some of our young readers grow up,
they, too, may discover small folks in the world.
In regard to the "Arabian Nights," from which we give you three choice
stories, you ought to know the way they came to be told. Once upon a
time, a Sultan of Arabia thought that all women were of not much use,
so every day he married a new wife, and before twenty-four hours were
over he ordered that she have her head cut off. One brave woman
thought of a clever plan by which she could end this cruelty. She went
to the palace and offered to marry the Sultan, and that night she
began to tell him such fascinating stories that when morning came he
still wished to hear more. He commanded that she should not be
beheaded until all her stories were told. Then for a thousand and one
nights, night after night, she gave him fresh stories, and by the end
of that time the Sultan had fallen very much in love with her.
Naturally, they lived happily forever after. Perhaps these three
stories which we have selected will compel you to seek out all the
rest, and if you do, we are quite sure you will not wonder that the
brave lady won the heart of the wicked Sultan and made him good.
From the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey" of Homer, we have given you some
soul-stirring happenings. Several thousand years ago these stories
were sung by a blind minstrel named Homer. Some day you may read
Homer's sublime poetry in the original Greek, and the selections which
we give you will help you to remember the stories when you are
struggling with that difficult language.
Parts of the old favorite "Robinson Crusoe" follow the Grecian tales,
and we trust its simple language will make the little ones love it
more than ever. You will remember that Defoe wrote this nearly two
hundred years ago. Everybody liked long stories in those days, but we
have all heard children of to-day ask when a somewhat lengthy book
would end, no matter how interesting, and many grown-ups are guilty
of reading the close of a story before they have gone very far in it.
So with that in mind we have put down in brief form most of Robinson
Crusoe's important adventures during his twenty-eight years on the
desert island.
Here we also give three splendid stories from Chaucer's "Canterbury
Tales," which were supposedly told to one another by a party of
pilgrims on their way to Canterbury. According to our gentle author,
who was one of them, they stopped over night at a house in England
called the Tabard Inn, and here they passed the hours repeating fine
stories. Afterward Chaucer wrote these down in a book in quaint old
English. One might look at these words all day long and not know in
the least what what some of them meant, though they do hold such
beautiful tales.
Now about "Pilgrim's Progress." More than two hundred years ago a
tinker named John Bunyan was in jail, but one night this poor man left
his prison and wandered into the land of dreams. There he saw
wonderful sights and heard marvelous things, and as there was no one
to listen to his dream, John Bunyan wrote it down, and had it made
into a book. And this he called "The Pilgrim's Progress." It was about
the journey and adventures of a pilgrim and his companions. In our
version we have given most of the dream, but when the boys and girls
grow older they will want to read it all in Bunyan's own language, and
we hope this account will lead them to do so.
Shakespeare is a magic name to grown-ups, but to children it does not
mean much. All they know is, that sometimes this name is spelled on
the back of one fat volume, sometimes on three, sometimes on a dozen
or more, but of the inside they know almost nothing, and when they
hear persons say that Shakespeare is the greatest writer that ever
lived, they wonder about it. If they take down a volume containing one
of his plays, they think it very dull, but here in simple language we
present the stories of two of the most fairy-like and beautiful plays,
as retold for children by Charles and Mary Lamb.
DANIEL EDWIN WHEELER.
II
OLD-FASHIONED STORIES
There is much truth in the saying that "old things are best, old books
are best, old friends are best." We like to connect in thought our
best-loved books and our best-loved friends. A good friend must have
some of the wisdom of a good book, though good books often talk to us
with wisdom and also with humor and courtesy greater than any living
friend may show. "Sometimes we think books are the best friends; they
never interrupt or contradict or criticise us."
Every year in our own country about ten thousand books are published.
Most of them die in early life. Three hundred years from now every one
of this year's ten thousand books will be dead and forgotten, except
possibly thirty or forty. The very best books do not die young. The
books written about three hundred years ago that are read to-day--like
Shakespeare's plays--are as a rule the books that deserve to live
forever. And, "Gentle Reader," if you are wise you will see _why_ the
old books are best: they are the wheat, and the winds of time have
blown only the chaff away.
Is it not strange that in the olden times so few poems or books or
stories were written for children? The "Iliad," the stories of King
Arthur, the "Canterbury Tales," and "Gulliver's Travels" and "Robinson
Crusoe," were written for men and women.
But happily this is the children's age, and now nearly half of all the
books written are written for children. You must remember, however,
that all boys and girls are children--in the eyes of the law--till
they are twenty-one years old.
We know a little boy who read last week a very modern story. The book
was bound in red cloth. It had a gilt top and very modern pictures
drawn by a great artist and printed in three or four colors. How
different from the books of one hundred years ago, with their black
covers and queer pictures!
This story read by the little New York boy last week has been read by
many little boys in Iowa, and by many little girls in Georgia. It
tells about an orphan boy who was "bound out" to a farmer who treated
him cruelly. He ran away to the Rocky Mountain region, where he had
many adventures with robbers and Indians and blizzards. He was strong
and heroic; he could shoot straight and ride the swiftest horses, and
nothing ever hurt him very much.
This, as I have said, is a modern story. It does not tell the reader
to be truthful and good. It just tells him a story of thrilling
adventures and daring escapes from danger. But the old-fashioned story
is different; and now we are getting close to our subject.
I will tell you all about the old-fashioned stories in a moment; but I
must remind you that these old stories were written about a hundred
years ago. They were usually written to teach a moral lesson. Dear old
John Aikin, or his sister Anna Letitia Barbauld, or Maria Edgeworth,
or Jane Taylor would say some morning--at any rate, so it seems to
me--"I will write a story to-day to teach boys and girls to be
industrious." And so "Busy Idleness" was written. Or one of these old
authors would decide to write a story the main object of which was to
teach little girls not to be too curious, and so "The Inquisitive
Girl" was written. Both of these stories, and many others equally
good, are found in this volume.
I could really tell you many interesting things about these
old-fashioned stories but I will do something better--urge you to read
them yourself. They are quaint, delightful, and entertaining stories,
besides teaching a moral. You boys and girls should read every one of
them, and then read them again, out loud, to your mothers or to
anybody else who will listen.
Among all the old-fashioned stories in this volume I find only one
that seems to me "really funny," and that is "Uncle David's
Nonsensical Story about the Giants and Fairies." Think of a giant so
tall that "he was obliged to climb up a ladder to comb his own hair."
But this bit of humor is not so good as a very modern nonsense-story
entitled "The Giant's Shoes," which I read the other day, and from
which the Managing Editor permits me to quote this little passage:
"The Giant slept for three weeks at a time, and two days after he
woke his breakfast was brought to him, consisting of bright brown
horses sprinkled on his bread and butter. Besides his boots, the Giant
had a pair of shoes, and in one of them his wife lived when she was at
home; on other occasions she lived in the other shoe. She was a
sensible, practical kind of woman, with two wooden legs and a
clothes-horse, but in other respects not rich. The wooden legs were
kept pointed at both ends, in order that if the Giant were
dissatisfied with his breakfast, he might pick up any stray people
that were within reach, using his wife as a fork; this annoyed the
inhabitants of the district, so that they built their church in a
southwesterly direction from the castle, behind the Giant's back, that
he might not be able to pick them up as they went in. But those who
stayed outside to play pitch-and-toss were exposed to great danger and
sufferings."
G.J.B.
CLASSIC TALES
DON QUIXOTE
By MIGUEL CERVANTES
ADAPTED BY JOHN LANG
I
HOW DON QUIXOTE WAS KNIGHTED
Some three or four hundred years ago, there lived in sunny Spain an
old gentleman named Quixada, who owned a house and a small property
near a village in La Mancha.
With him lived his niece, a housekeeper, and a man who looked after
Quixada's farm and his one old white horse, which, though its master
imagined it to be an animal of great strength and beauty, was really
as lean as Quixada himself and as broken down as any old cab horse.
Quixada had nothing in the world to do in the shape of work, and so,
his whole time was taken up in reading old books about knights and
giants, and ladies shut up in enchanted castles by wicked ogres. In
time, so fond did he become of such tales that he passed his days, and
even the best part of his nights, in reading them. His mind was so
wholly taken up in this way that at last he came to believe that he
himself lived in a land of giants and of ogres, and that it was his
duty to ride forth on his noble steed, to the rescue of unhappy
Princesses.
In the lumber-room of Quixada's house there had lain, ever since he
was born, a rusty old suit of armor, which had belonged to his
great-grandfather. This was now got out, and Quixada spent many days
in polishing and putting it in order.
Unfortunately, there was no more than half of the helmet to be found,
and a knight cannot ride forth without a helmet.
So Quixada made the other half of strong pasteboard; and to prove that
it was strong enough, when finished, he drew his sword and gave the
helmet a great slash. Alas! a whole week's work was ruined by that one
stroke; the pasteboard flew into pieces. This troubled Quixada sadly,
but he set to work at once and made another helmet of pasteboard,
lining it with thin sheets of iron, and it looked so well that, this
time, he put it to no test with his sword.
Now that his armor was complete, it occurred to him that he must give
his horse a name--every knight's horse should have a good name--and
after four days thought he decided that "Rozinante" would best suit
the animal.
Then, for himself, after eight days of puzzling, he resolved that he
should be called Don Quixote de la Mancha.
There was but one thing more. Every knight of olden time had a lady,
whom he called the Mistress of his Heart, whose glove he wore in his
helmet; and if anybody dared to deny that this lady was the most
beautiful woman in the whole world, then the knight made him prove his
words by fighting.
So it was necessary that Don Quixote should select some lady as the
Mistress of his Heart.
Near La Mancha there lived a stout country lass, for whom some years
before Don Quixote had had a kind of liking. Who, therefore, could
better take the place of Mistress of his Heart? To whom could he
better send the defeated knights and ogres whom he was going out to
fight? It was true that her name. Aldonza Lorenzo, did not sound like
that of a Princess or lady of high birth; so he determined in future
to call her Dulcinea del Toboso. No Princess could have a sweeter
name!
All being now ready, one morning Don Quixote got up before daylight,
and without saying a word to anybody, put on his armor, took his
sword, and spear, and shield, saddled "Rozinante," and started on his
search for adventures.
But before he had gone very far, a dreadful thought struck him. He had
not been knighted! Moreover, he had read in his books that until a
knight had done some great deed, he must wear white armor, and be
without any device or coat of arms on his shield. What was to be done?
He was so staggered by this thought that he almost felt that he must
turn back. But then he remembered that he had read how adventurers
were sometimes knighted by persons whom they happened to meet on the
road. And as to his armor, why, he thought he might scour and polish
that till nothing could be whiter. So he rode on, letting "Rozinante"
take which road he pleased, that being, he supposed, as good a way as
any of looking for adventures.
All day he rode, to his sorrow without finding anything worth calling
an adventure.
At last as evening began to fall, and when he and his horse were both
very weary, they came in sight of an inn. Don Quixote no sooner saw
the inn than he fancied it to be a great castle, and he halted at some
distance from it, expecting that, as in days of old, a dwarf would
certainly appear on the battlements, and, by sounding a trumpet, give
notice of the arrival of a knight. But no dwarf appeared, and as
"Rozinante" showed great haste to reach the stable, Don Quixote began
to move towards the inn.
At this moment it happened that a swineherd in a field near at hand
sounded his horn to bring his herd of pigs home to be fed. Don
Quixote, imagining that this must be the dwarf at last giving notice
of his coming, rode quickly up to the inn door, beside which it
chanced that there stood two very impudent young women, whom the
Knight imagined to be two beautiful ladies taking the air at the
castle gate.
Astonished at the sight of so strange a figure, and a little
frightened, the girls turned to run away. But Don Quixote stopped
them.
"I beseech ye, ladies, do not fly," he said. "I will harm no one,
least of all maidens of rank so high as yours."
And much more he said, whereat the young women laughed so loud and so
long that Don Quixote became very angry, and there is no saying what
he might not have done had not the innkeeper at that moment come out.
This innkeeper was very fat and good-natured, and anxious not to
offend anybody, but even he could hardly help laughing when he saw Don
Quixote. However, he very civilly asked the Knight to dismount and
offered him everything that the inn could provide.
Don Quixote being by this time both tired and hungry, with some
difficulty got off his horse and handed it to the innkeeper (to whom
he spoke as governor of the castle), asking him to take the greatest
care of "Rozinante," for in the whole world there was no better steed.
When the landlord returned from the stable, he found Don Quixote in a
room, where, with the help of the two young women, he was trying to
get rid of his armor. His back and breastplates had been taken off,
but by no means could his helmet be removed without cutting the green
ribbons with which he had tied it on, and this the Knight would not
allow.
There was nothing for it, therefore, but to keep his helmet on all
night, and to eat and drink in it, which was more than he could do
without help. However, one of the young women fed him, and the
innkeeper having made a kind of funnel, through it poured the wine
into his mouth, and Don Quixote ate his supper in great peace of mind.
There was but one thing that still vexed him. He had not yet been
knighted.
On this subject he thought long and deeply, and at last he asked the
innkeeper to come with him to the stable. Having shut the door, Don
Quixote threw himself at the landlord's feet, saying, "I will never
rise from this place, most valorous Knight, until you grant me a
boon."
The innkeeper was amazed, but as he could not by any means make Don
Quixote rise, he promised to do whatever was asked.
"Then, noble sir," said Don Quixote, "the boon which I crave is that
to-morrow you will be pleased to grant me the honor of knighthood."
The landlord, when he heard such talk, thought that the wisest thing
he could do was to humor his guest, and he readily promised. Thereupon
Don Quixote very happily rose to his feet, and after some further talk
he said to the innkeeper that this night he would "watch his armor" in
the chapel of the castle, it being the duty of any one on whom the
honor of knighthood was to be conferred, to stand on his feet in the
chapel, praying, until the morning. The innkeeper, thinking that
great sport might come of this, encouraged Don Quixote, but as his own
chapel had lately--so he said--been pulled down in order that a better
might be built, he advised Don Quixote to watch that night in the
courtyard. This was "lawful in a case where a chapel was not at hand.
And in the morning," he said, "I will knight you."
"Have you any money?" then asked the innkeeper.
"Not a penny," said Don Quixote, "for I never yet read of any knight
who carried money with him."
"You are greatly mistaken," answered the innkeeper. "Most knights had
squires, who carried their money and clean shirts and other things.
But when a knight had no squire, he always carried his money and his
shirts, and salve for his wounds, in a little bag behind his saddle. I
must therefore advise you never in future to go anywhere without
money."
Don Quixote promised to remember this. Then taking his armor, he went
into the inn yard and laid it in a horse-trough.
Backwards and forwards, spear in hand, he marched in the moonlight,
very solemnly keeping his eyes on his armor, while the innkeeper's
other guests, laughing, looked on from a distance.
Now it happened that a carrier who lodged at the inn came into the
yard to water his mules, and this he could not do while the armor lay
in the horse-trough. As Don Quixote saw the man come up, "Take heed,
rash Knight," he cried. "Defile not by a touch the armor of the most
brave knight-errant that ever wore a sword."
But the mule-driver took no notice of Don Quixote. He picked up the
armor and threw it away.
Don Quixote no sooner saw this than, raising his eyes to heaven, and
calling on his Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, he lifted up his spear with
both hands and gave the mule-driver such a whack over the head that
the man fell down senseless. Then, picking up his armor and putting it
back in the horse-trough, he went on with his march, taking no further
notice of the poor mule-driver.
Soon up came another carrier who also wanted to water his mules.
Not a word did Don Quixote say this time, but he lifted up his spear
and smote so heavily that he broke the man's head in three or four
places. The poor wretch made such an outcry that all the people in the
inn came running, and the friends of the two carriers began to pelt
Don Quixote with stones. But drawing his sword, and holding his shield
in front of him, he defied them all, crying, "Come on, base knaves!
Draw nearer if you dare!"
The landlord now came hurrying up and stopped the stone-throwing;
then, having calmed Don Quixote, he said that there was no need for
him to watch his armor any longer; to finish the ceremony it would now
be enough if he were touched on the neck and shoulders with a sword.
Don Quixote was quite satisfied, and prayed the innkeeper to get the
business over as quickly as possible, "for," said he, "if I were but
knighted, and should see myself attacked, I believe that I should not
leave a man alive in this castle."
The innkeeper, a good deal alarmed at this, and anxious to get rid of
him, hurried off and got the book in which he kept his accounts, which
he pretended was a kind of book of prayer. Having also brought the two
young women, and a boy to hold a candle, he ordered Don Quixote to
kneel. Then muttering from his book, as if he were reading, he
finished by giving Don Quixote a good blow on the neck, and a slap on
the back, with the flat of a sword. After this, one of the young women
belted the sword round the newly made knight's waist, while the other
buckled on his spurs, and having at once saddled "Rozinante." Don
Quixote was ready to set out.
The innkeeper was only too glad to see him go, even without paying for
his supper.
II
HOW DON QUIXOTE RESCUED ANDRES; AND HOW HE RETURNED HOME
As he rode along in the early morning light, Don Quixote began to
think that it would be well that he should return home for a little,
there to lay in a stock of money and of clean shirts, and he turned
his willing horse's head in the direction of his village.
But ere he had gone far on his way, coming from a thicket he fancied
that he heard cries of distress.
"Certainly these are the moans of some poor creature in want of help,"
thought Don Quixote. "I thank Heaven for so soon giving me the chance
to perform my duty as a knight."
And he rode quickly towards the sounds. No sooner had he reached the
wood than he saw a horse tied to a tree, and bound to another was a
lad of fifteen, all naked above the waist. By his side stood a
countryman beating him with a strap, and with every blow calling out,
"I'll teach you to keep your eyes open, you young scamp. I'll teach
you to keep your mouth shut."
The boy howled with pain. Quickly Don Quixote rode up to the man.
"Sir Knight," said he angrily, "I would have thee to know that it is
an unworthy act to strike one who cannot defend himself. Mount thy
steed, therefore, take thy spear, and I will teach thee that thou art
a coward."
The countryman gave himself up for lost, and he gasped out very humbly
that the boy was his servant, through whose carelessness many of the
sheep that he should have watched had been lost, and that therefore he
was giving him a sound beating. "And," said he, "because I beat him
for his carelessness, he says I do it to cheat him out of his wages."
"What!" shouted Don Quixote, "do you dare to lie to me? By the sun
above us, I have a mind to run you through with my spear. Pay the boy
this instant, and let him go free. What does he owe you, boy?"
The boy said that the man owed him nine months' wages.
"Pay at once, you scoundrel, unless you want to be killed," roared Don
Quixote.
The poor man, trembling with fear, said that there was a mistake; he
did not owe nearly so much, and besides, he had no money with him. But
if Andres would go home with him he would pay every penny.
"Go home with him!" cried the boy. "I know a trick worth two of that.
No sooner will he have me home than he'll take the skin off me. No,
no, not I!"
"He will not dare to touch you," said the Knight. "I command him, and
that is enough. If he swears by his order of knighthood to do this
thing, I will let him go, and he will pay you your wages."
"Of course I will," said the man. "Come along with me. Andres, and I
swear I'll give you all I owe."
"Remember, then, what you have promised, for I am Don Quixote de la
Mancha, the righter of wrongs, and it is at your peril to disobey me."
So saying, Don Quixote clapped spurs to his horse, and galloped off
through the trees.
The countryman watched till the Knight was out of sight. Then,
turning, he said "Come, my lad, and I'll pay thee what I owe, and
more."
"Ay," answered the boy, "see that you do, for if you do not, that
brave man will come back and make you."
"I dare swear that," said the man. "And just to show how much I love
you, I am going to increase the debt, so that I may pay you more. Come
here!"
And with that he caught the boy by the arm, tied him again to the
tree, and belted him till his arm was tired.
"Now go," he said, "and tell your righter of wrongs. I wish I had
flayed you alive, you young whelp."
And so ended Don Quixote's first attempt to right wrongs.
As the Knight cantered along, very well pleased with himself, about
two miles from where he had freed the boy he saw riding towards him
six men, each shading himself under a large umbrella. With them were
four mounted servants, and three on foot.
No sooner did Don Quixote see this party than it struck him that here
was the chance for which, above all others, he had been longing.
Posting himself in the middle of the road, he waited till the men were
at no great distance. Then, "Halt!" shouted he. "Let all know that no
man shall pass further till he owns that in the whole world there is
no damsel more beautiful than the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso."
"But," said the men (who were merchants of Toledo, on their way to buy
silks), "we do not know the lady. We have never seen her. How then can
we say that she is beautiful?"
"What!" roared Don Quixote in a terrible rage, "not know the beauteous
Lady Dulcinea del Toboso! That only makes matters worse. Do you dare
to argue?"
And with that he couched his spear, drove his spurs into "Rozinante,"
and rode furiously at the nearest merchant.
What he would have done it is not possible to say. But as he galloped,
it chanced that "Rozinante" stumbled and fell heavily, rolling Don
Quixote over and over. There the Knight lay helpless, the weight of
his armor preventing him from rising to his feet. But as he lay, he
continued to cry out at the top of his voice, "Stop, you rascals! Do
not fly. It is my horse's fault that I lie here, you cowards!"
One of the grooms, hearing his master called a rascal and a coward,
thereupon ran up and snatched away Don Quixote's spear, which he broke
in pieces. Then with each piece he belabored the poor Knight till the
broken lance flew into splinters. The merchants then rode away,
leaving Don Quixote lying where he fell, still shouting threats, but
quite unable to rise.
There he was found by a man who knew him well, and who with great
difficulty mounted him on his donkey and took him home. When at last
they reached Don Quixote's house, the poor Knight was put to bed,
where he lay for many days, raving, and very ill.
During this time the Curate of the village and the Barber came and
burned nearly all the books which Don Quixote had so loved.
"For," said they, "it is by reading these books that the poor
gentleman has lost his mind, and if he reads them again he will never
get better."
So a bonfire was made of the books, and the door of Don Quixote's
study was bricked up.
When the Knight was again able to go about, he made at once for his
study and his beloved books. Up and down the house he searched without
saying a word, and often he would stand where the door of the study
used to be, feeling with his hands and gazing about. At last he asked
his housekeeper to show him the study.
"Study!" cried the woman, "what study? There is no study in this house
now, nor any books."
"No," said his niece. "When you were away, a famous enchanter came
along, mounted on a dragon, and he went into your study. What he did
there we know not. But after a time he flew out of the roof, leaving
the house full of smoke, and ever since then we have not been able to
find either books or study."
"Ha!" said Don Quixote. "That must have been Freston. He is a famous
enchanter, and my bitter enemy. But when I am again well I shall get
the better of him."
III
HOW DON QUIXOTE AND SANCHO PANZA STARTED ON THEIR SEARCH FOR
ADVENTURES; AND HOW DON QUIXOTE FOUGHT WITH THE WINDMILLS
For some weeks the poor Knight stayed very quietly at home. But he had
not forgotten the things for which he had come back to his village.
There was a farm laborer who lived near by, a fat, good-natured,
simple man. To him Don Quixote talked long and often, and made many
promises; among others that if he would but come with him as squire,
he should be made governor of any island which the Knight might happen
to conquer during his search after adventures.
This seemed so grand a thing to the man (whose name was Sancho Panza),
that he willingly promised to come.
Having got together some money, and having made other preparations,
Don Quixote and Sancho Panza one dark night stole out of the village
without a word to any one, and began their adventures.
Don Quixote rode "Rozinante;" Sancho Panza was mounted on an ass. That
his squire should ride an ass at first troubled the Knight not a
little, for in none of his books could he remember to have read of
any squire being so mounted. However, he gave Sancho leave to bring
the ass, thinking that in no great time a better mount would surely be
found for him.
As they rode along in the cool of the morning, Sancho Panza spoke to
his master about their journey, and asked him to be sure not to forget
his promise about the governorship of the island.
"It may even happen," answered Don Quixote, "that I may by some
strange chance conquer a kingdom. And then presently, I may be able to
crown thee King."
"Why," said Sancho, "if by some such miracle as your worship speaks
of, I am made a King, then would my wife be Queen?"
"Certainly," answered Don Quixote, "who can doubt it?"
"I doubt it," replied Sancho, "for I think if it should rain kingdoms
upon the face of the earth, not one of them would sit well on my
wife's head. For I must tell you, sir, she's not worth two brass jacks
to make a Queen of. No, no! countess will be quite good enough; that's
as much as she could well manage."
"Nay," said Don Quixote, "leave the matter in the hands of Providence,
and be not tempted by anything less than the title of Viceroy."
Thus talking, they came over the brow of a hill, and looking down on
the plain below, Don Quixote saw there thirty or forty windmills.
"Ha!" cried he. "Fortune directs our affairs better than we ourselves
could do. Look yonder, friend Sancho, there are at at least thirty
outrageous giants whom I must now fight."
"Giants!" gasped Sancho Panza, "what giants?"
"Those whom you see over there with their long arms," answered Don
Quixote. "Some of that horrible race, I have heard, have arms near two
leagues in length."
"But, sir," said Sancho, "these are no giants. They are only
windmills, and the things you think are arms are but their sails,
whereby the wind drives them."
"That is but a sign," answered Don Quixote, "whereby one may see how
little you know of adventures. I tell you they are giants: and I shall
fight against them all. If you are afraid, go aside and say your
prayers."
So saying, and without paying any heed to the bawlings of Sancho
Panza, he put spurs to his horse and galloped furiously at the
windmills, shouting aloud, "Stand, cowards! stand your ground, and fly
not from a single Knight."
Just at this moment the wind happened to rise, causing the arms of the
windmills to move.
"Base scoundrels!" roared the Knight, "though you wave as many arms as
the giant Briareus, you shall pay for your pride."
And with couched lance, and covering himself with his shield, he
rushed "Rozinante" at top speed on the nearest windmill. Round whirled
the sails, and as Don Quixote's lance pierced one of them, horse and
man were sent rolling on the ground. There Sancho Panza came to help
his sorely bruised master.
"Mercy o' me!" cried Sancho, "did not I tell you they were windmills?"
"Peace, friend Sancho," answered Don Quixote. "It is the fortune of
war. I know very well it is that accursed wizard Freston, the enemy
who took from me my study and my books, who has changed these giants
into windmills to take from me the honor of the victory. But in the
end I shall yet surely get the better of him."
"Amen! say I" quoth Sancho: and heaving the poor Knight on to his
legs, once more he got him seated on "Rozinante."
As they now rode along, it was a great sorrow to Don Quixote that his
spear had been broken to pieces in this battle with the windmill.
"I have read," said he to Sancho, "that a certain Spanish knight,
having broken his sword in a fight, pulled up by the roots a huge
oak-tree, or at least tore down a great branch, and with it did such
wonderful deeds that he was ever after called 'The Bruiser.' I tell
you this because I intend to tear up the next oak-tree we meet, and
you may think yourself fortunate that you will see the deeds I shall
perform with it."
"Heaven grant you may!" said Sancho. "But, an' it please you, sit a
little more upright in your saddle; you are all to one side. But that,
mayhap, comes from your hurts?"
"It does so," answered Don Quixote, "and if I do not complain of the
pain, it is because a knight-errant must never complain of his wounds,
though they be killing him."
"I have no more to say," replied Sancho. "Yet Heaven knows I should be
glad to hear your honor complain a bit, now and then, when something
ails you. For my part, I always cry out when I'm hurt, and I am glad
the rule about not complaining doesn't extend to squires."
That night they spent under the trees, from one of which Don Quixote
tore down a branch, to which he fixed the point of his spear, and in
some sort that served him for a lance. Don Quixote neither ate nor
slept all the night, but passed his time, as he had learned from his
books that a knight should do, in thoughts of the Lady Dulcinea. As
for Sancho Panza, he had brought with him a big bottle of wine, and
some food in his wallet, and he stuffed himself as full as he could
hold, and slept like a top.
As they rode along next day, they came to the Pass of Lapice.
"Here, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "is the spot where adventures should
begin. Now may we hope to thrust our hands, as it were, up to the very
elbows in adventures. But remember this! However sore pressed and in
danger I may be when fighting with another knight, you must not offer
to draw your sword to help me. It is against the laws of chivalry for
a squire to attack a knight."
"Never fear me, master," said Sancho. "I'll be sure to obey you; I
have ever loved peace. But if a knight offers to set upon me first,
there is no rule forbidding me to hit him back, is there?"
"None," answered Don Quixote, "only do not help me."
"I will not," said Sancho. "Never trust me if I don't keep that
commandment as well as I do the Sabbath."
IV
HOW DON QUIXOTE WON A HELMET; HOW HE FOUGHT WITH TWO ARMIES; AND HOW
SANCHO'S ASS WAS STOLEN
Many were the adventures that now befell Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.
In the very first, wherein he fought with a man from Biscay, whom he
left lying in a pool of blood, Don Quixote lost part of his helmet,
and had the half of one of his ears sliced off by the Biscayan's
sword. The accident to the helmet was a great grief to him, and he
swore an oath that until he had taken from some other knight as good a
helmet as that which was now made useless to him, he would never again
eat his food on a table-cloth.
One day as they rode along a highway between two villages Don Quixote
halted and looked eagerly at something.
"Sancho," said he, "dost thou not see yonder knight that comes riding
this way on a dapple-gray steed, with a helmet of gold on his head?"
"Not a thing can I see," answered Sancho, "but a fellow on just such
another ass as mine, with something that glitters on top of his head."
"Can you not see," asked Don Quixote, "that it is a helmet? Do you
stand back, and let me deal with him. Soon now shall I possess myself
of the helmet that I need."
Now, in those far-away days, when doctors were few, if anybody needed
to be bled for a fever or any other illness (for it was then thought
that "letting blood" was the cure for most illnesses), it was the
custom for the barber to bleed the sick person. For the purpose of
catching the blood that ran from a vein when it had been cut, a brass
dish was carried, a dish with part of it cut away from one side, so
that it might the more easily be held close to the patient's arm or
body. A small dish like this you may sometimes still see hanging as a
sign at the end of a pole outside barbers' shops. Barbers in those
days of old were called barber-surgeons, for the reason that they bled
people, as well as shaved them or cut their hair.
And the truth of the matter was this, that the man whom Don Quixote
now believed to be a knight, wearing a golden helmet, was a barber
riding on his ass to bleed a sick man. And because it was raining, he
had put his brass dish on his head, in order to keep his new hat from
being spoiled.
Don Quixote did not wait to speak to the man, but, couching his lance,
galloped at him as hard as "Rozinante" could go, shouting as he rode,
"Defend thyself, base wretch!"
The barber no sooner saw this terrible figure charging down on him,
than, to save himself from being run through, he flung himself on to
the ground, and then jumping to his feet, ran for his life, leaving
his ass and the brass basin behind him. Then Don Quixote ordered
Sancho to pick up the helmet.
"O' my word," said Sancho, as he gave it to his master, "it is a fine
basin."
Don Quixote at once put it on his head, saying, "It is a famous
helmet, but the head for which it was made must have been of great
size. The worst of it is that at least one-half of it is gone. What is
the fool grinning at now?" he cried, as Sancho laughed.
"Why, master," answered Sancho, "it is a barber's basin."
"It has indeed some likeness to a basin," said Don Quixote, "but I
tell you it is an enchanted helmet of pure gold, and for the sake of a
little wretched money some one has melted down the half of it. When we
come to a town where there is an armorer, I will have it altered to
fit my head. Meantime I shall wear it as it is."
As they rode along one day talking of many things, Don Quixote beheld
a cloud of dust rising right before them.
"Seest thou that cloud of dust, Sancho?" he asked. "It is raised by a
great army marching this way."
"Why, master," said Sancho, "there must be two armies there, for
yonder is just such another cloud of dust."
The knight looked, and was overjoyed, believing that two armies were
about to meet and fight in the plain.
"What are we to do, master?" asked Sancho.
"Do!" said Don Quixote, "why, what can we do but help the weaker side?
Look yonder, Sancho, that knight whom thou seest in the gilded armory
with a lion crouching at the feet of a lady painted on his shield,
that is the valiant Laurcalco. That other, the giant on his right,
Brandabarbaran." And he ran over a long list of names of knights whom
he believed that he saw.
Sancho listened, as dumb as a fish; but at last he gasped. "Why,
master, you might as well tell me that it snows. Never a knight, nor a
giant, nor a man can I see."
"How!" answered Don Quixote, "canst thou not hear their horses neigh,
and their drums beating?"
"Drums!" said Sancho. "Not I! I hear only the bleating of sheep."
"Since you are afraid," said the Knight, "stand aside, and I will go
by myself to fight."
With that, he galloped down on to the plain, shouting, leaving Sancho
bawling to him, "Hold, sir! Stop! For Heaven's sake come back. As sure
as I'm a sinner, they are only harmless sheep. Come back, I say."
But Don Quixote, paying not the least heed, galloped on furiously and
charged into the middle of the sheep, spearing them right and left,
trampling the living and the dead under "Rozinante's" feet. The
shepherds, finding that he took no notice of their shouts, now hurled
stones at him from their slings, and one big stone presently hit the
Knight fair in his ribs and doubled him up in the saddle.
Gasping for breath, with all speed Don Quixote got from his wallet a
bottle filled with a mixture he had made, a mixture which he firmly
believed to be a certain cure for all wounds. Of this he took a long
gulp, but just at that moment another big stone hit him such a rap on
the mouth that the bottle was smashed into a thousand pieces, and half
of his teeth were knocked out.
Down dropped the Knight on the ground, and the shepherds thinking that
he was killed, ran away, taking with them seven dead sheep which he
had slain.
Sancho Panza found his master in a very bad way, with nearly all the
teeth gone from one side of his mouth, and with a terrible pain under
his ribs.
"Ah! master," he said, "I told you they were sheep. Why would not you
listen to me?"
"Sheep! Sancho. No, no! There is nothing so easy for a wizard like
Freston as to change things from one shape to the other. I will wager
if you now mount your ass and ride over the hill after them, you will
find no sheep there, but the knights and squires come back to their
own shape, and the armies marching as when we first saw them."
Now, after this and many other adventures (about which, perhaps, you
may some day read for yourself), Don Quixote and Sancho Panza rode
away into the mountains, for the Knight was sorely in need of a quiet
place in which to rest.
So weary were he and his squire, that one night, when they had ridden
into a wood, and it chanced that the horse and the ass stood still,
both Don Quixote and Sancho Panza fell sound asleep without even
getting out of their saddles. There sat the Knight, leaning on his
lance; and Sancho, doubled over the pommel, snored as loud as if he
had been in a four-post feather bed.
It happened that a wandering thief saw them as he passed.
"Now," thought he, "I want something to ride upon, for I'm tired of
walking in these abominable mountains. Here's a chance of a good ass.
But how am I to get it, without waking its master?"
Very quietly he cut four long sticks. One after the other he placed
these under each side of Sancho's saddle; then loosening the girths,
he gradually raised the sticks till the saddle was clear of the
animal's back.
Gently, in the moonlight, he led the tired ass away, and Sancho,
undisturbed, snored on.
When it was broad daylight, the squire awoke, and without opening his
eyes, stretched himself. Down fell the sticks; down with a terrible
bump fell Sancho.
"Body o' me!" he yelled, "where is my ass?" And with many tears he
searched high and low, but no ass was then to be found, nor for many
months afterwards. And how at last Sancho got back the ass you must
read for yourself in the History of Don Quixote. For yourself, too,
you must read of Don Quixote's adventures in the mountains; how he
there did penance; and of many other things, till at last the Curate
and the Barber of La Mancha took him home in a cart which the Knight
believed to be an enchanted chariot.
V
HOW DON QUIXOTE SAW DULCINEA
Now a third time did Don Quixote set off on his search for adventures,
and as he and Sancho Panza rode again away from their village, it
seemed to Don Quixote that certainly it was his duty as a
knight-errant to visit the Mistress of his Heart, the beautiful
Dulcinea.
It was midnight when they reached Toboso, and the whole town was
still, everybody in bed and asleep.
"Lead me to her palace, Sancho," said Don Quixote.
"Palace?" cried Sancho, "What palace do you mean? Body o' me! When
last I saw her, she lived in a little cottage in a blind alley. And
even if it were a palace, we can't go and thunder at the door at this
time o' night."
"When we find it, I will tell thee what to do. But, here! What is
this?" said the Knight, riding up to a huge building, and knocking at
the door. "This indeed, without doubt, must be her palace."
But it was only the great Church of Toboso. Hunt as he would, he found
no Dulcinea's palace, and as morning began to break, Sancho persuaded
him to come and rest in a grove of trees two miles outside the town.
From there Sancho was again sent to look for Dulcinea, bearing many
messages from his sorrowful master.
"Cheer up, sir," said Sancho. "I'll be back in a trice. Don't be cast
down. Faint heart never won fair lady."
And Sancho rode away, leaving the Knight sitting on his horse, very
full of melancholy. But he had not ridden far, when, turning round and
finding that his master was no longer in sight, the squire dismounted,
and lying down under a shady tree, began to think the matter over.
"Friend Sancho," said he to himself, "what's this you are doing?"
"Why, hunting for a Princess, who, my master says, is the Sun of
Beauty, and all sorts of other fine things, and who lives in a King's
palace, or great castle, somewhere or other."
"And how are you going to find her?"
"Why, it's like looking for a needle in a bundle of hay, to look for
Dulcinea all over Toboso. My master's mad, there's no doubt of that;
and perhaps I'm not very much better, for they say birds of a feather
flock together. But if he's so mad as to mistake windmills for giants,
and flocks of sheep for armies, why, it shouldn't be so very hard to
make him believe that the first country lass I meet is the Lady
Dulcinea. If he won't believe, I'll swear it, and stand to it, so that
he'll think some of those wicked wizards of his have played another
trick on him, and have changed her into some other shape just to spite
him."
Having thus settled his plans, Sancho lay there till the evening, so
that his master might think that all the day had been spent in going
to and from Toboso, and in looking for Dulcinea.
As luck would have it, just as he mounted his ass to ride back to Don
Quixote, he spied coming that way three country lasses mounted on
asses. As soon as Sancho saw the girls, he made haste to get to his
master.
"What news, Sancho?" asked the Knight. "Has your fortune been good?"
"Ay, marry has it, sir," answered Sancho, "you have no more to do but
to clap spurs to 'Rozinante' and get into the open fields, and you'll
meet my Lady Dulcinea del Toboso with two of her damsels coming to see
you."
"Blessed Heaven!" cried the Knight. "What do you say, my dear Sancho?
Is it possible?"
"Possible!" said Sancho. "Why should I play a trick on you? Come, sir,
and you will see her presently, all dressed up and decked with jewels.
Her damsels and she are all covered with diamonds, and rubies, and
cloth of gold. And what is more, they are riding three flea-bitten
gambling hags, the like of which won't be seen again."
"Ambling nags, thou meanest, Sancho," said Don Quixote.
"Well, well, master, gambling hags or ambling nags, it's all one and
the same thing. Any way, I'm sure I never set eyes on more beautiful
ladies than those that sit upon them."
"Let us be moving then, Sancho. And as a reward for your good news, I
promise you the very best things I get in our next adventure. And if
that is not enough, then I will give you the three colts that I have
at home in La Mancha."
"Thank you for the colts," said Sancho. "As for the other things, I'm
not sure that they will be worth so very much."
They were now out of the wood, and could see the three country lasses
at a little distance.
Don Quixote looked long towards Toboso, but seeing no one anywhere but
these girls, he was much troubled in his mind, and asked Sancho if he
were sure that the Princess had left the city.
"Left the city!" cried Sancho. "Why where are your eyes, sir? In the
name of wonder, do you not see her and her maidens coming towards us
now, as bright as the sun at midday?"
"I see nothing, Sancho, but three country wenches riding on asses."
"Now Heaven help me," cried Sancho, "is it possible that you can
mistake three what do you call 'ems--ambling nags as white as snow,
for three asses! Pull my beard out by the roots if it is not so."
"Believe me, Sancho, they are asses."
"Come, sir," answered Sancho, "do but clear your eyes, and go and
speak to the Mistress of your Heart, for she is near you now."
So saying, Sancho hurried up to one of the girls, and, jumping off his
ass, fell on his knees before her, gabbling a lot of nonsense.
Don Quixote followed, and also knelt down, gazing with doubting and
sorrowful eyes on the creature that Sancho had told him was the
beautiful Dulcinea. He was lost in wonder, for she was a flat-nosed,
blubber-cheeked, bouncing country girl, and Don Quixote could not
utter a word.
"Come! get out of the way," screamed the girl, "and let us go about
our business. We're in a hurry."
"Rise, Sancho," said Don Quixote when he heard the girl's voice. "I am
now convinced that misfortune has not yet finished with me. O most
beautiful lady! a spiteful enchanter puts mists before my eyes, and
hides from me your loveliness."
"My grandmother take him!" cried the girl. "Listen to his gibberish!
Get out of the way, and let us alone." And kicking her donkey in the
ribs, she galloped away with her friends. Don Quixote followed them
long with his eyes.
"O the spite of those wicked enchanters!" he sighed, "to turn my
beautiful Dulcinea into so vile a shape as that: to take from her the
sweet and delicate scent of fragrant flowers, and give to her what she
has. For, to tell the truth, Sancho, she gave me such a whiff of raw
onions that it was like to upset me altogether."
"O the vile and evil-minded enchanters!" cried Sancho. "Oh that I
might see the lot of you threaded on one string, and hung up in the
smoke like so many herrings." And Sancho turned away to hide his
laughter.
Don Quixote rode on, very sad, and letting "Rozinante" go where he
pleased.
VI
HOW DON QUIXOTE FOUGHT WITH A LION; AND HOW HE DEFEATED THE MOORS
As Don Quixote and Sancho Panza went along, they were overtaken by a
gentleman in a fine green coat, who rode a very good mare. This
gentleman stared very hard at Don Quixote, and the two began to speak
together about knight-errantry, and were so interested in what they
were saying, that Sancho took the opportunity of riding over to ask
for a little milk from some shepherds, who were milking their ewes
near at hand.
While he was thus away from his master, a wagon, on top of which
fluttered little yellow and red flags, came along the road towards
them. Don Quixote at once imagined this to be some new adventure, and
he called to Sancho for his helmet. At the moment, Sancho was
bargaining with the shepherds for some curds. Hearing his master call,
he had not time to wait till the shepherds could give him a bowl in
which to carry them, and not wishing to lose his bargain (for he had
paid the shepherds), he poured the curds into the Knight's helmet, and
galloped off to see what his master wanted.
"Give me my helmet," said Don Quixote, "for if I know anything of my
business, here is an adventure for which I must be ready."
The gentleman in green, hearing what Don Quixote said, looked
everywhere, but he could see nothing except the wagon coming towards
them, and as that had on it the King of Spain's colors, he thought
that no doubt it was one of his Majesty's treasure-vans. He said as
much to Don Quixote, but the Knight answered: "Sir, I cannot tell
when, or where, or in what shape, my enemies will attack me. It is
always wise to be ready. Fore-warned is fore-armed. Give me my helmet,
Sancho!"
Snatching it out of Sancho's unwilling hands, he clapped it on his
head without looking into it.
"What is this, Sancho?" he cried, as the whey ran down his face. "What
is the matter with me? Is my brain melting, or am I breaking out in a
cold sweat? If I am, it is not from fear. This must be a dreadful
adventure that is coming. Quick. Sancho! give me something to wipe
away the torrent of sweat, for I am almost blinded."
Without a word, Sancho handed to his master a cloth. Don Quixote dried
himself, and then took off his helmet to see what it was that felt so
cold on his head.
"What is this white stuff?" said he, putting some of the curds to his
nose. "Sancho, you vile traitor, you have been putting curds in my
helmet!"
"Curds!--I?" cried Sancho. "Nay, the devil must have put them there.
Would I dare to make such a mess in your helmet, sir? It must have
been one of those vile enchanters. Where could I get curds? I would
sooner put them in my stomach than in your helmet."
"Well, that's true, I dare say," said Don Quixote. "There's something
in that."
Then again he put on the helmet, and made ready for the adventure.
"Now come what may, I dare meet it," he cried.
The wagon had now come near to them. On top was seated a man, and the
driver rode one of the mules that drew it. Don Quixote rode up.
"Whither go ye, my friends?" said he. "What wagon is this, and what
have you in it? What is the meaning of the flags?"
"The wagon is mine," said the driver, "and I have in it a lion that is
being sent to the King, and the flags are flying to let the people
know that it is the King's property."
"A lion!" cried Don Quixote, "Is it a large one?"
"The biggest I ever saw," said the man on top of the wagon. "I am the
keeper, and I have had charge of many lions, but I never saw one so
large as this. Pray get out of the way, sir, for we must hurry on to
our stopping-place. It is already past his feeding-time; he is
beginning to get hungry, and they are always savage when they are
hungry."
"What!" cried Don Quixote, "lion whelps against me! I'll let those
gentlemen know who send lions this way, that I am not to be scared by
any of their lions. So, Mr. Keeper, just jump down and open his cage,
and let him out. In spite of all the enchanters in the world that have
sent him to try me, I'll let the animal see who Don Quixote de la
Mancha is."
Up ran Sancho to the gentleman in green.
"O good, dear sir," he cried, "don't let my master get at the lion, or
we shall all be torn to pieces."
"Why," said the gentleman, "is your master so mad that you fear he'll
set upon such a dangerous brute."
"Oh no, sir, he's not mad; he's only rash, very, very rash," cried
Sancho.
"Well," said the gentleman, "I'll see to it," and up he went to Don
Quixote, who was trying to get the keeper to open the cage.
"Sir," said he, "knight-errants ought not to engage in adventures from
which there is no hope of coming off in safety. That is more like
madness than courage. Besides, this is the King's wagon; it will
never do to stop that. And after all, the lion has not been sent
against you; it is a present to the King."
"Pray, sir," cried Don Quixote, "will you attend to your own business?
This is mine, and I know best whether this lion has been sent against
me or not. Now you, sir," he cried to the keeper, "either open that
cage at once, or I'll pin you to your wagon with my spear."
"For mercy's sake, sir," cried the driver, "do but let me take my
mules out of harm's way before the lion gets out. My cart and my mules
are all I have in the world, and I shall be ruined if harm comes to
them."
"Take them out quickly, then," said Don Quixote, "and take them where
you please."
On this the driver made all the haste he could to unharness his mules,
while the keeper called aloud, "Take notice, everybody, that it is
against my will that I am forced to let loose the lion, and that this
gentleman here is to blame for all the damage that will be done. Get
out of the way, everybody: look out for yourselves."
Once more the gentleman in green tried to persuade Don Quixote not to
be so foolish, but the Knight only said, "I know very well what I am
doing. If you are afraid, and do not care to see the fight, just put
spurs to your mare and take yourself where you think you will be
safe."
Sancho now hurried up, and with tears in his eyes begged his master
not to put himself in so great danger, but Don Quixote only said,
"Take yourself away, Sancho, and leave me alone. If I am killed, go,
as I have so often told you, to the beautiful Dulcinea, and tell
her--you know what to tell her."
The gentleman in green, finding that words were thrown away on Don
Quixote, now quickly followed the driver, who had hastily taken his
mules as far away as he could beyond the brow of the hill. Sancho
hurried after them at the top speed of his ass, kicking him in the
ribs all the while to make him go even faster, and loudly bewailing
his master's coming death. The keeper made one more attempt to turn
Don Quixote from his folly, but again finding it useless, very
unwillingly opened the cage door.
Meantime the Knight had been thinking whether it would be best to
fight the lion on foot or on horseback, and he had made up his mind to
fight on foot, for the reason that "Rozinante" would probably be too
much afraid to face the lion. So he got off his horse, drew his sword,
and holding his shield in front of him, marched slowly up to the cage.
The keeper, having thrown the door wide open, now quickly got himself
out of harm's way.
The lion, seeing the cage open, and Don Quixote standing in front,
turned round and stretched out his great paws. Then he opened his
enormous mouth, and, letting out a tongue as long as a man's arm,
licked the dust off his face. Now rising to his feet, he thrust his
head out of the door and glared around with eyes like burning coals.
It was a sight to make any man afraid; but Don Quixote calmly waited
for the animal to jump out and come within reach of his sword.
The lion looked at him for a moment with its great yellow eyes--then,
slowly turning, it strolled to the back of the cage, gave a long,
weary yawn, and lay quietly down.
"Force him to come out," cried Don Quixote to the keeper, "beat him."
"Not I," said the man. "I dare not for my life. He would tear me to
pieces. And let me advise you, sir, to be content with your day's
work. I beseech you, go no further. You have shown how brave you are.
No man can be expected to do more than challenge his enemy and wait
ready for him. If he does not come, the fault and the disgrace are
his."
"'Tis true," said the Knight. "Shut the door, my friend, and give me
the best certificate you can of what you have seen me do; how you
opened the door, and how I waited for the lion to come out, and how he
turned tail and lay down. I am obliged to do no more."
So saying, Don Quixote put on the end of his spear the cloth with
which he had wiped the curds from his face, and began to wave to the
others to come back.
"I'll be hanged," cried Sancho when he saw this signal, "if my master
has not killed the lion." And they all hurried up to the wagon where
the keeper gave them a long account of what had happened, adding,
that when he got to court he would tell the King of Don Quixote's
bravery.
"If his Majesty should happen to ask who did this thing, tell him,"
said Don Quixote, "that it was the Knight of the Lions, for that is
the name by which I shall now call myself."
Sancho and his master now rode with the gentleman in green to his
house, where they stopped some days, to the great contentment of
Sancho. And of the wedding at which they were present, of the feast
where Sancho so greatly enjoyed himself, as well as of other matters,
you must read for yourself.
When the Knight and his squire again began their travels, it chanced
that they stopped one night at an inn. To this inn, while Don Quixote
was outside, waiting for supper, there came a man, all dressed in
chamois leather, and wearing over his left eye, and part of his face,
a green patch.
"Have you any lodgings, landlord?" he cried in a loud voice; "for here
comes the fortune-telling ape, and the great puppet-show of
Melisendra's Deliverance."
"Why, bless me!" cried the innkeeper, "if here isn't Master Peter. Now
we shall have a merry night of it. You are welcome, with all my heart.
Where is the ape, Peter?"
"Coming presently," said Master Peter. "I only came on before to see
if lodgings were to be had."
"Lodgings!" cried the landlord. "Why, I'd turn out the Duke of Alva
himself rather than you should want room. Bring on the monkey and the
show, for I have guests in the inn to-night who will pay well to see
the performance."
"That's good news," said Peter, going off to hurry up his cart.
"Who is this Peter?" asked Don Quixote.
"Why, sir," answered the landlord, "he has been going about the
country this long time with his play of Melisendra and Don Gayferos,
one of the very best shows that ever was seen. Then he has the
cleverest ape in the world. You have only to ask it a question and it
will jump on its master's shoulder and whisper the answer in his ear,
and then Master Peter will tell you what it says. It's true, he isn't
always right, but he so often hits the nail on the head that we
sometimes think Satan is in him."
Don Quixote no sooner saw the ape, than he marched up to it, and asked
a question.
"Ah!" said Master Peter, "the animal can't tell what is going to
happen; only what has already happened."
"I wouldn't give a brass centesimo," cried Sancho, "to know what is
past. Who can tell that better than myself? Tell me what my wife
Teresa is doing at home just now."
Master Peter tapped his shoulder: the ape at once sprang on to it, and
putting its head at his ear, began to chatter--as apes do--for a
minute. Then it skipped down again, and immediately Master Peter ran
to Don Quixote and fell on his knees before him.
"O glorious restorer of knight-errantry!" he cried, "who can say
enough in praise of the great Don Quixote de la Mancha, the righter of
wrongs, the comfort of the afflicted and unhappy?"
Don Quixote was amazed at these words, for he was certain that he was
unknown to any one at the inn. He did not guess that Master Peter was
a clever rogue, who, before giving a performance, always made it his
business to find out about those who were likely to be looking on.
As for Sancho, he quaked with fear.
"And thou, honest Sancho," went on Master Peter, "the best squire to
the best knight in the world, be not unhappy about your wife. She is
well, and at this moment is dressing flax. By the same token, she has
at her left hand, to cheer her, a broken-mouthed jug of wine."
"That's like enough," said Sancho.
"Well," cried Don Quixote, "if I had not seen it with my own eyes,
nothing should have made me believe that apes have the gift of second
sight. I am in very truth the Don Quixote de la Mancha that this
wonderful animal has told you about."
But he was not quite pleased at the idea of the ape having such
powers, and taking Sancho aside he spoke to him seriously on the
subject.
While they spoke, the showman came to tell them that the puppet-show
was now ready to begin, and Don Quixote and Sancho went into the room
where it stood, with candles burning all round it. Master Peter got
inside in order to move the puppets, and a boy standing in front
explained what was going on.
The story that was acted by the puppets was that of a certain Don
Gayferos, who rescued his wife Melisendra from captivity by the Moors
in the city of Saragossa. Melisendra was imprisoned in the castle, and
the story goes that Don Gayferos, when riding past, in his search,
spied her on the balcony. Melisendra, with the help of a rope, lets
herself down to her husband, mounts behind him, and the two gallop
away from the city. But Melisendra's flight has been noticed, and the
city bells ring an alarm. The Moors rush out like angry wasps, start
in pursuit, and the capture and death of Don Gayferos and Melisendra
seem certain.
Don Quixote listened and looked with growing excitement and anger, but
when he saw the Moors gallop in pursuit and about to close on Don
Gayferos and Melisendra, he could keep quiet no longer. Starting up,
"It shall never be said," cried he, "that in my presence I suffered
such a wrong to be done to so famous a knight as Don Gayferos. Stop
your unjust pursuit, ye base rascals! Stop! or prepare to meet me in
battle."
Then, drawing his sword, with one spring he fell with fury on the
Moors, hacking some in pieces, beheading others, and sending the rest
flying into every corner. And had not Master Peter ducked and squatted
down on the ground behind part of the show, Don Quixote would
certainly have chopped off his head also.
"Hold! hold, sir!" cried Master Peter, "for mercy's sake, hold! These
are not real Moors. You will ruin me if you destroy my show."
But Don Quixote paid not the slightest heed. He went on slashing and
hacking till the whole show was a wreck. Everybody ran to get out of
harm's way, and the ape scampered, chattering, on to the roof of the
house. Sancho himself quaked with fear, for he had never before seen
his master in such a fury.
All the puppet Moors being now cut to pieces, Don Quixote became
calmer, saying aloud, "How miserable had been the fate of poor Don
Gayferos and Melisendra his wife if I had not been in time to save
them from those infidel Moors! Long live knight-errantry!"
"Ay, ay," moaned Master Peter in a doleful voice, "it may live long
enough. As for me, I may as well die, for I am a ruined man and a
beggar now."
Sancho Panza took pity on the showman.
"Come, come! Master Peter," said he, "don't cry. Don't be cast down.
My master will pay you when he comes to know that he has done you an
injury."
"Truly," said Peter, "if his honor will pay for my puppets.'ll ask no
more."
"How!" cried Don Quixote. "I do not see that I have injured you, good
Master Peter."
"Not injured me!" cried Master Peter. "Do but look at those figures
lying there, all hacked to bits."
"Well," said Don Quixote, "now I know for certain a truth I have
suspected before, that those accursed enchanters do nothing but put
before my eyes things as they are, and then presently after change
them as they please. Really and truly gentlemen, I vow and protest
that all that was acted here seemed to me to be real. I could not
contain my fury, and I acted as I thought was my duty. But if Master
Peter will tell me the value of the figures, I will pay for them all."
"Heaven bless your worship!" whined Master Peter. But had Don Quixote
known that this same Master Peter was the very man who stole Sancho
Panza's ass, perhaps he might have paid him in another way.
VII
THE BATTLE WITH THE BULLS; THE FIGHT WITH THE KNIGHT OF THE WHITE
MOON; AND HOW DON QUIXOTE DIED
Soon after this, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza rode forth in search of
other adventures.
They had ridden no great way when they happened upon some young people
who had gaily dressed themselves as shepherds and shepherdesses, and
were having a picnic in the woods. These people invited Don Quixote
and Sancho to join their feast.
When they had eaten and drunk, the Knight rose, and said that there
was no sin worse than that of ingratitude, and that to show how
grateful he was for the kindness that had been shown to him and to
Sancho, he had only one means in his power.
"Therefore," said he, "I will maintain for two whole days, in the
middle of this high road leading to Saragossa, that these ladies here,
disguised as shepherdesses, are the most beautiful damsels in the
world, except only the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, the mistress of
my heart."
So, mounting "Rozinante" he rode into the middle of the highway and
there took his stand, ready to challenge all comers. He had sat there
no long time when there appeared on the road coming towards him a
number of riders, some with spears in their hands, all riding very
fast and close together. In front of them thundered a drove of wild
bulls, bellowing and tossing their horns. At once all the shepherds
and the shepherdesses ran behind trees, but Don Quixote sat bravely
where he was.
When the horsemen came near, "Get out of the way!" bawled one of them.
"Stand clear, or these bulls will have you in pieces in no time."
"Halt, scoundrels!" roared the Knight. "What are bulls to Don Quixote
de la Mancha, if they were the fiercest that ever lived? Stop,
hangdogs!"
But the herdsmen had no time to answer, nor Don Quixote to get out of
the way had he wanted to do so, for before any one knew what was
happening, the bulls had run right over him and "Rozinante," leaving
them and Sancho and "Dapple," his ass, stunned and bruised, rolling in
the dust.
As soon as Don Quixote came to his senses he got up in great haste,
stumbling here and falling there, and began to run after the herd.
"Stop, you scoundrels!" he bawled. "Stop! It is a single knight that
defies you."
But no one took the least notice of him, and he sat sadly down on the
road, waiting till Sancho brought "Rozinante" to him. Then master and
man went on their way, Don Quixote sore ashamed of his defeat, hurt as
much in mind as in body.
That evening they dismounted at the door of an inn, and put up
"Rozinante" and "Dapple" in the stable. Sancho asked the landlord what
he could give them for supper.
"Why," said the man, "you may have anything you choose to call for.
The inn can provide fowls of the air, birds of the earth, and fishes
of the sea."
"There's no need for all that," said Sancho. "If you roast a couple of
chickens it will be enough, for my master eats but little, and for
myself, I have no great appetite."
"Chickens?" said the host. "I am sorry I have no chickens just now.
The hawks have killed them all."
"Well, then, roast us a pullet, if it be tender."
"A pullet? Well, now, that is unlucky. I sent away fifty to the market
only yesterday. But, putting pullets aside, ask for anything you
like."
"Why, then," said Sancho, pondering, "let us have some veal, or a bit
of kid."
"Sorry sir, we are just out of veal and kid also. Next week we shall
have enough and to spare."
"That helps us nicely," said Sancho. "But at any rate, let us have
some eggs and bacon."
"Eggs!" cried the landlord. "Now didn't I tell him I had no hens or
pullets, and how then can I have eggs? No, no! Ask for anything you
please in the way of dainties, but don't ask for hens."
"Body o' me!" said Sancho, "let us have something. Tell me what you
have, and have done."
"Well, what I really and truly have is a pair of cow-heels that look
like calves'-feet, or a pair of calves'-feet that look like cow-heels.
You can have that and some bacon."
"They are mine," cried Sancho. "I don't care whether they are feet or
heels."
And as Don Quixote had supper with some other guests who carried with
them their own cook and their own larder, Sancho and the landlord
supped well on the cow-heels.
Some days after this, the Knight and his squire reached Barcelona.
Neither of them had ever before been near the sea, and the galleys
that they saw in the distance being rowed about in the bay sorely
puzzled Sancho, who thought that the oars were their legs, and that
they must be some strange kind of beast.
Now, one morning, when Don Quixote rode out, fully armed as usual, to
take the air on the seashore, he saw a knight riding towards him,
armed like himself, and having a bright moon painted on his shield. As
soon as this knight came within hearing he halted, and in a loud voice
called out:
"Illustrious Don Quixote de la Mancha, I am the Knight of the White
Moon, of whose doings you may have heard. I am come to fight with you
and to make you own that the Lady of my Heart, whoever she may be, is
more beautiful by far than the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso. Which truth,
if you will confess, I will not slay you. And if we fight, and I
should conquer you, then I ask no more than that you shall go to your
own home, and for the space of one year give up carrying arms or
searching for adventures. But if you should conquer me, then my head
shall be at your disposal, my horse and arms shall be your spoils, and
the fame of my deeds shall be yours. Consider what I say, and let your
answer be quick."
Don Quixote was amazed at hearing these words.
"Knight of the White Moon," said he very solemnly, "the fame of whose
doings has not yet come to my ears, I dare swear that thou hast never
seen the beautiful Dulcinea, for hadst thou ever viewed her, thou
wouldst have been careful not to make this challenge. The sight of her
would have made thee know that there never has been, nor can be,
beauty to match hers. And therefore, without giving thee the lie, I
only tell thee thou art mistaken. I accept your challenge, on your
conditions, and at once, except that I am content with the fame of my
own deeds, and want not yours. Choose then whichever side of the field
you please, and let us set to."
The two knights then turned their horses to take ground for their
charge, but at this moment up rode, with some friends, the Governor of
the city of Barcelona, who knew Don Quixote, and who fancied that
perhaps this was some new trick being played on him. The Governor,
seeing both knights ready to turn for their charge, asked the Knight
of the White Moon what was the cause of the combat, and having heard
his answer, could not believe that the affair was not a joke, and so
stood aside.
Instantly the two knights charged at top speed. But the horse of the
Knight of the White Moon was by far the bigger and heavier and faster,
and he came with such a shock into poor old "Rozinante" that Don
Quixote and his horse were hurled to the ground with terrible force,
and lay stunned and helpless. In a moment the Knight of the White Moon
was off his horse and holding his spear at Don Quixote's throat.
"Yield, Sir Knight!" he cried, "or you are a dead man."
Don Quixote, sorely hurt, but with steadfast look, gasped in a faint
voice:
"I do not yield. Dulcinea del Toboso is the most beautiful woman in
the whole world. Press on with your spear, Sir Knight, and kill me."
"Nay," said the Knight of the White Moon. "That will I not do. I am
content if the great Don Quixote return to his home for a year, as we
agreed before we fought."
And Don Quixote answered very faintly that as nothing was asked of him
to the hurt of Dulcinea, he would carry out all the rest faithfully
and truly. The Knight of the White Moon then galloped away toward the
city, where one of the Governor's friends followed him, in order to
find out who he was. The victorious knight was Samson Carrasco, who,
some months before, had fought with and had been beaten by Don
Quixote. And he explained to the Governor's friend that all he wanted
in fighting was, not to harm Don Quixote, but to make him promise to
go home, and stop there for a year, by which time he hoped that his
madness about knight-errantry might be cured.
They raised Don Quixote and took off his helmet. His face was very
pale, and he was covered with a cold sweat. "Rozinante" was in as bad
plight as his master, and lay where he had fallen. Sancho, in great
grief, could speak no word, and knew not what to do; to him it was all
as a bad dream.
Don Quixote was carried on a stretcher to the town, where for a week
he lay in bed without ever raising his head, stricken to the soul by
the disgrace of his defeat.
Sancho tried to comfort him.
"Pluck up your heart and be of good cheer, sir," he cried, "and thank
Heaven you have broken no bones. They that give must take. Let us go
home and give up looking for adventures."
"After all, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "it is only for a year. After
that I can begin again, and perhaps then I may be able to make thee an
Earl."
"Heaven grant it" said Sancho.
So when the Knight was once more able to move they set out for home,
Don Quixote riding "Rozinante" Sancho walking, for "Dapple" carried
the armor.
But all the way Don Quixote did not recover from his melancholy, and
when at last they reached his village:
"Help me to bed," he said, "for I think that I am not very well."
He was put to bed, and carefully nursed. But a fever had taken hold of
him, and for many days Sancho Panza never left his master's bedside.
On the sixth day, the doctor told him he was in great danger. Don
Quixote listened very calmly, and then asked that he might be left by
himself for a little--he had a mind to sleep. His niece and Sancho
left the room weeping bitterly, and Don Quixote fell into a deep
sleep.
When he awoke, with a firm voice he cried:
"Blessed be God! My mind is is now clear, and the clouds have rolled
away which those detestable books of knight-errantry cast over me. Now
can I see their nonsense and deceit. I am at the point of death, and I
would meet it so that I may not leave behind me the character of a
madman. Send for the lawyer, that I may make my will."
Excepting only a small sum of money which he gave to Sancho Panza, he
left all to his niece.
Thereafter he fell back in bed, and lay unconscious and without
movement till the third day, when death very gently took him.
So died Don Quixote de la Mancha, a good man and a brave gentleman to
the end.
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS
_VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT_
By JONATHAN SWIFT
ADAPTED BY JOHN LANG
I
GULLIVER'S BIRTH AND EARLY VOYAGES
Two hundred years ago, a great deal of the world as we now know it was
still undiscovered; there were yet very many islands, small and great,
on which the eyes of white men had never looked, seas in which nothing
bigger than an Indian canoe had ever sailed.
A voyage in those days was not often a pleasant thing, for ships then
were very bluff-bowed and slow-sailing, and, for a long voyage, very
ill-provided with food. There were no tinned meats two hundred years
ago, no luxuries for use even in the cabin. Sailors lived chiefly on
salt junk, as hard as leather, on biscuit that was generally as much
weevil as biscuit, and the water that they drank was evil-smelling and
bad when it had been long in the ship's casks.
So, when a man said good-by to his friends and sailed away into the
unknown, generally very many years passed before he came back--if ever
he came back at all. For the dangers of the seas were then far greater
than they now are, and if a ship was not wrecked some dark night on an
unknown island or uncharted reef, there was always the probability of
meeting a pirate vessel and of having to fight for life and liberty.
Steam has nowadays nearly done away with pirates, except on the China
coast and in a few other out-of-the-way places. But things were
different long ago, before steamers were invented; and sailors then,
when they came home, had many very surprising things to tell their
friends, many astonishing adventures to speak of, among the strange
peoples that they said they had met in far-off lands. One man, who saw
more wonderful things than any one else, was named Lemuel Gulliver,
and I will try to tell you a little about one of his voyages.
Gulliver was born in Nottinghamshire, and when he was only fourteen
years old he was sent to Emanuel College, Cambridge. There he remained
till he was seventeen, but his father had not money enough to keep him
any longer at the University. So, as was then the custom for those who
meant to become doctors, he was bound apprentice to a surgeon in
London, under whom he studied for four years. But all the time, as
often as his father sent him money, he spent some of it in learning
navigation (which means the art of finding your way across the sea,
far from land). He had always had a great longing to travel, and he
thought that a knowledge of navigation would be of use to him if he
should happen to go a voyage.
After leaving London, he went to Germany, and there studied medicine
for some years, with the view of being appointed surgeon of a ship.
And by the help of his late master in London, such a post he did get
on board the "Swallow" on which vessel he made several voyages. But
tiring of this, he settled in London, and, having married, began
practise as a doctor.
He did not, however, make much money at that, and so for six years he
again went to sea as a surgeon, sailing both to the East and to the
West Indies.
Again tiring of the sea, he once more settled on shore, this time at
Wapping, because in that place there are always many sailors, and he
hoped to make money by doctoring them.
But this turned out badly, and on May 4, 1699, he sailed from Bristol
for the South Seas as surgeon of a ship named the "Antelope."
II
GULLIVER IS WRECKED ON THE COAST OF LILLIPUT
At first, everything went well, but after leaving the South Seas, when
steering for the East Indies, the ship was driven by a great storm far
to the south. The gale lasted so long that twelve of the crew died
from the effects of the hard work and the bad food, and all the others
were worn out and weak. On a sailing ship, when the weather is very
heavy, all hands have to be constantly on deck, and there is little
rest for the men. Perhaps a sail, one of the few that can still be
carried in such a gale, may be blown to ribbons by the furious wind,
and a new one has to be bent on.
The night, perhaps, is dark, the tattered canvas is thrashing with a
noise like thunder, the ship burying her decks under angry black seas
every few minutes. The men's hands are numb with the cold and the wet,
and the hard, dangerous work aloft. There is no chance of going below
when their job is done, to "turn in" between warm, dry blankets in a
snug berth. Possibly even those who belong to the "watch below" may
have to remain on deck. Or, if they have the good fortune to be
allowed to go below, they may no sooner have dropped off asleep
(rolled round in blankets which perhaps have been wet ever since the
gale began) than there is a thump, thump overhead, and one of the
watch on deck bellows down the forecastle-hatch, "All hands shorten
sail." And out they must tumble again, once more to battle with the
hungry, roaring seas and the raging wind. So, when there has been a
long spell of bad weather, it is no wonder that the men are worn out.
And when, as was the case with Gulliver's ship, the food also is bad,
it is easy to understand why so many of the crew had died.
It was on the 5th of November, the beginning of summer in latitudes
south of the equator. The storm had not yet cleared off, and the
weather was very thick, the wind coming in furious squalls that drove
the ship along at great speed, when suddenly from the lookout man came
a wild cry--"Breakers ahead!"
But so close had the vessel come to the rocks before they were seen
through the thick driving spray, that immediately, with, a heavy
plunge, she crashed into the reef, and split her bows.
Gulliver and six of the crew lowered a boat and got clear of the wreck
and of the breakers. But the men were so weak from overwork that they
could not handle the boat in such a sea, and very soon, during a
fierce squall, she sank. What became of the men Gulliver never knew,
for he saw none of them again. Probably they were drowned at once,
for they were too weak to keep long afloat in a sea breaking so
heavily.
And indeed, Gulliver himself was like to have been lost. He swam till
no strength or feeling was left in his arms and legs, swam bravely,
his breath coming in great sobs, his eyes blinded with the salt seas
that broke over his head. Still he struggled on, utterly spent, until
at last, in a part where the wind seemed to have less force, and the
seas swept over him less furiously, on letting down his legs he found
that he was within his depth. But the shore shelved so gradually that
for nearly a mile he had to wade wearily through shallow water, till,
fainting almost with fatigue, he reached dry land.
By this time darkness was coming on, and there were no signs of houses
or of people. He staggered forward but a little distance, and then, on
the short, soft turf, sank down exhausted and slept.
When he woke, the sun was shining, and he tried to rise; but not by
any means could he stir hand or foot. Gulliver had fallen asleep lying
on his back, and now he found that his arms and legs were tightly
fastened to the ground. Across his body were numbers of thin but
strong cords, and even his hair, which was very long, was pegged down
so securely that he could not turn his head.
All round about him there was a confused sound of voices, but he could
see nothing except the sky, and the sun shone so hot and fierce into
his eyes that he could scarcely keep them open.
Soon he felt something come gently up his left leg, and forward on to
his breast almost to his chin. Looking down as much as possible, he
saw standing there a very little man, not more than six inches high,
armed with a bow and arrows.
Then many more small men began to swarm over him. Gulliver let out
such a roar of wonder and fright that they all turned and ran, many of
them getting bad falls in their hurry to get out of danger. But very
quickly the little people came back again.
This time, with a great struggle Gulliver managed to break the cords
that fastened his left arm, and at the same time, by a violent wrench
that hurt him dreadfully, he slightly loosened the strings that
fastened his hair, so that he was able to turn his head a little to
one side. But the little men were too quick for him, and got out of
reach before he could catch any of them.
Then he heard a great shouting, followed by a shrill little voice that
called sharply, "_Tolgo phonac_," and immediately, arrows like needles
were shot into his hand, and another volley struck him in the face.
Poor Gulliver covered his face with his hand, and lay groaning with
pain.
Again he struggled to get loose. But the harder he fought for freedom,
the more the little men shot arrows into him, and some of them even
tried to run their spears into his sides.
When he found that the more he struggled the more he was hurt,
Gulliver lay still, thinking to himself that at night at least, now
that his left hand was free, he could easily get rid of the rest of
his bonds. As soon as the little people saw that he struggled no more,
they ceased shooting at him; but he knew from the increasing sound of
voices that more and more of the little soldiers were coming round
him.
Soon, a few yards from him, on the right, he heard a continued sound
of hammering, and on turning his head to that side as far as the
strings would let him, he saw that a small wooden stage was being
built. On to this, when it was finished, there climbed by ladders four
men, and one of them (who seemed to be a very important person, for a
little page boy attended to hold up his train) immediately gave an
order. At once about fifty of the soldiers ran forward and cut the
strings that tied Gulliver's hair on the left side, so that he could
turn his head easily to the right.
Then the person began to make a long speech, not one word of which
could Gulliver understand, but it seemed to him that sometimes the
little man threatened, and sometimes made offers of kindness.
As well as he could, Gulliver made signs that he submitted. Then,
feeling by this time faint with hunger, he pointed with his fingers
many times to his mouth, to show that he wanted something to eat.
They understood him very well. Several ladders were put against
Gulliver's sides, and about a hundred little people climbed up and
carried to his mouth all kinds of bread and meat. There were things
shaped like legs, and shoulders, and saddles of mutton. Very good they
were, Gulliver thought, but very small, no bigger than a lark's wing;
and the loaves of bread were about the size of bullets, so that he
could take several at a mouthful. The people wondered greatly at the
amount that he ate.
When he signed that he was thirsty, they slung up on to his body two
of their biggest casks of wine, and having rolled them forward to his
hand they knocked out the heads of the casks. Gulliver drank them both
off at a draught, and asked for more, for they held only about a small
tumblerful each. But there was no more to be had.
As the small people walked to and fro over his body, Gulliver was
sorely tempted to seize forty or fifty of them and dash them on the
ground, and then to make a further struggle for liberty. But the pain
he had already suffered from their arrows made him think better of it,
and he wisely lay quiet.
Soon another small man, who from his brilliant uniform seemed to be an
officer of very high rank, marched with some others on to Gulliver's
chest and held up to his eyes a paper which Gulliver understood to be
an order from the King of the country. The officer made a long speech,
often pointing towards something a long way off, and (as Gulliver
afterwards learned) told him that he was to be taken as a prisoner to
the city, the capital of the country.
Gulliver asked, by signs, that his bonds might be loosed. The officer
shook his head and refused, but he allowed some of his soldiers to
slack the cords on one side, whereby Gulliver was able to feel more
comfortable. After this, the little people drew out the arrows that
still stuck in his hands and face, and rubbed the wounds with some
pleasant-smelling ointment, which so soothed his pain that very soon
he fell sound asleep. And this was no great wonder, for, as he
afterwards understood, the King's physicians had mixed a very strong
sleeping draught with the wine that had been given him.
Gulliver awoke with a violent fit of sneezing, and with the feeling of
small feet running away from off his chest.
Where was he? Bound still, without doubt, but no longer did he find
himself lying on the ground. It puzzled him greatly that now he lay on
a sort of platform. How had he got there?
Soon he began to realize what had happened; and later, when he
understood the language, he learned all that had been done to him
while he slept. Before he dropped asleep, he had heard a rumbling as
of wheels, and the shouts of many drivers. This, it seemed, was caused
by the arrival of a huge kind of trolley, a few inches high, but
nearly seven feet long, drawn by fifteen hundred of the King's largest
horses.
On this it was meant that he should be taken to the city. By the use
of strong poles fixed in the ground, to which were attached many
pulleys, and the strongest ropes to be found in the country, nine
hundred men managed to hoist him as he slept. They then put him on the
trolley, where they again tied him fast.
It was when they were far on their way to the city that Gulliver
awoke. The trolley had stopped for a little to breathe the horses, and
one of the officers of the King's Guard who had not before seen
Gulliver, climbed with some friends up his body. While looking at his
face, the officer could not resist the temptation of putting the point
of his sword up Gulliver's nose, which tickled him so that he woke,
sneezing violently.
III
GULLIVER IS TAKEN AS A PRISONER TO THE CAPITAL OF LILLIPUT
The city was not reached till the following day, and Gulliver had to
spend the night lying where he was, guarded on each side by five
hundred men with torches and bows and arrows, ready to shoot him if he
should attempt to move.
In the morning, the King and all his court, and thousands of the
people, came out to gaze on the wonderful sight. The trolley, with
Gulliver on it, stopped outside the walls, alongside a very large
building which had once been used as a temple, but the use of which
had been given up owing to a murder having been committed in it.
The door of this temple was quite four feet high and about two feet
wide, and on each side, about six inches from the ground, was a small
window. Inside the building the King's blacksmiths fastened many
chains, which they then brought through one of these little windows
and padlocked round Gulliver's left ankle. Then his bonds were cut,
and he was allowed to get up. He found that he could easily creep
through the door, and that there was room inside to lie down.
His chains were nearly six feet long, so that he could get a little
exercise by walking backwards and forwards outside. Always when he
walked, thousands of people thronged around to look at him; even the
King himself used to come and gaze by the hour from a high tower which
stood opposite.
One day, just as Gulliver had crept out from his house and had got on
his feet, it chanced that the King, who was a very fine-looking man,
taller than any of his people, came riding along on his great white
charger. When the horse saw Gulliver move it was terrified, and
plunged and reared so madly that the people feared that a terrible
accident was going to happen, and several of the King's guards ran in
to seize the horse by the head. But the King was a good horseman, and
managed the animal so well that very soon it got over its fright, and
he was able to dismount.
Then he gave orders that food should be brought for Gulliver, twenty
little carts full, and ten of wine; and he and his courtiers, all
covered with gold and silver, stood around and watched him eating.
After the King had gone away the people of the city crowded round, and
some of them began to behave very badly, one man even going so far as
to shoot an arrow at Gulliver which was not far from putting out one
of his eyes. But the officer in command of the soldiers who were on
guard ordered his men to bind and push six of the worst behaved of the
crowd within reach of Gulliver, who at once seized five of them and
put them in his coat pocket. The sixth he held up to his mouth and
made as if he meant to eat him, whereupon the wretched little creature
shrieked aloud with terror, and when Gulliver took out his knife, all
the people, even the soldiers, were dreadfully alarmed. But Gulliver
only cut the man's bonds, and let him run away, which he did in a
great hurry. And when he took the others out of his pocket, one by
one, and treated them in the same way, the crowd began to laugh. After
that the people always behaved very well to Gulliver, and he became a
great favorite. From all over the kingdom crowds flocked to see the
Great Man Mountain.
In the meantime, as Gulliver learned later, there were frequent
meetings of the King's council to discuss the question of what was to
be done with him. Some of the councilors feared lest he might break
loose and cause great damage in the city. Some were of opinion that to
keep and feed so huge a creature would cause a famine in the land, or,
at the least, that the expense would be greater than the public funds
could bear; they advised, therefore, that he should be killed--shot in
the hands and face with poisoned arrows. Others, however, argued that
if this were done it would be a very difficult thing to get rid of so
large a dead body, which might cause a pestilence to break out if it
lay long unburied so near the city.
Finally, the King and his council gave orders that each morning the
surrounding villages should send into the city for Gulliver's daily
use six oxen, forty sheep, and a sufficient quantity of bread and
wine.
It was also commanded that six hundred persons should act as his
servants; that three hundred tailors were to make for him a suit of
clothes; and that six professors from the University were to teach him
the language of the country.
When Gulliver could speak the language, he learned a great deal about
the land in which he now found himself. It was called Lilliput, and
the people, Lilliputians. These Lilliputians believed that their
kingdom and the neighboring country of Blefuscu were the whole world.
Blefuscu lay far over the sea, to these little people dim and blue on
the horizon, though to Gulliver the distance did not seem to be more
than a mile. The Lilliputians knew of no land beyond Blefuscu. And as
for Gulliver himself, they believed that he had fallen from the moon,
or from one of the stars; it was impossible, they said, that so big a
race of men could live on the earth. It was quite certain that there
could not be food enough for them. They did not believe Gulliver's
story. He must have fallen from the moon!
Almost the first thing that Gulliver did when he knew the language
fairly well, was to send a petition to the King, praying that his
chains might be taken off and that he might be free to walk about. But
this he was told could not then be granted. He must first, the King's
council said, "swear a peace" with the kingdom of Lilliput, and
afterwards, if by continued good behavior he gained their confidence,
he might be freed.
Meantime, by the King's orders, two high officers of state were sent
to search him, Gulliver lifted up these officers in his hand and put
them into each of his pockets, one after the other, and they made for
the King a careful list of everything found there.
Gulliver afterward saw this inventory. His snuff-box they had
described as a "huge silver chest, full of a sort of dust." Into that
dust one of them stepped, and the snuff, flying up in his face, caused
him nearly to sneeze his head off. His pistols they called "hollow
pillars of iron, fastened to strong pieces of timber," and the use of
his bullets, and of his powder (which he had been lucky enough to
bring ashore dry, owing to his pouch being water-tight), they could
not understand, while of his watch they could make nothing. They
called it "a wonderful kind of engine, which makes an incessant noise
like a water-wheel." But some fancied that it was perhaps a kind of
animal. Certainly it was alive.
All these things, together with his sword, which he carried slung to a
belt round his waist, Gulliver had to give up, first, as well as he
could, explaining the use of them. The Lilliputians could not
understand the pistols, and to show his meaning, Gulliver was obliged
to fire one of them. At once hundreds of little people fell down as if
they had been struck dead by the noise. Even the King, though he stood
his ground, was sorely frightened. Most of Gulliver's property was
returned to him; but the pistols and powder and bullets, and his
sword, were taken away and put, for safety, under strict guard.
As the King and his courtiers gained more faith in Gulliver, and
became less afraid of his breaking loose and doing some mischief,
they began to treat him in a more friendly way than they had hitherto
done, and showed him more of the manners and customs of the country.
Some of these were very curious.
One of the sports of which they were most fond was rope-dancing, and
there was no more certain means of being promoted to high office and
power in the state than to possess great cleverness in that art.
Indeed, it was said that the Lord High Treasurer had gained and kept
his post chiefly through his great skill in turning somersaults on the
tight rope. The Chief Secretary for private affairs ran him very
close, and there was hardly a Minister of State who did not owe his
position to such successes. Few of them, indeed, had escaped without
severe accidents at one time or another, while trying some specially
difficult feat, and many had been lamed for life. But however many and
bad the falls, there were always plenty of other persons to attempt
the same or some more difficult jump.
Taught by his narrow escape from a serious accident when his horse
first saw Gulliver, the King now gave orders that the horses of his
army, as well as those from the Royal stables, should be exercised
daily close to the Man Mountain. Soon they became so used to the sight
of him that they would come right up to his foot without starting or
shying. Often the riders would jump their chargers over Gulliver's
hand as he held it on the ground; and once the King's huntsman, better
mounted than most of the others, actually jumped over his foot, shoe
and all--a wonderful leap.
Gulliver saw that it was wise to amuse the King in this and other
ways, because the more his Majesty was pleased with him the sooner was
it likely that his liberty would be granted. So he asked one day that
some strong sticks, about two feet in height, should be brought to
him. Several of these he fixed firmly in the ground, and across them,
near the top, he lashed four other sticks, enclosing a square space of
about two and a half feet. Then to the uprights, about five inches
lower than the crossed sticks, he tied his pocket-handkerchief, and
stretched it tight as a drum.
When the work was finished, he asked the King to let a troop exercise
on this stage. His Majesty was delighted with the idea, and for
several days nothing pleased him more than to see Gulliver lift up the
men and horses, and to watch them go through their drill on this
platform. Sometimes he would even be lifted up himself and give the
words of command; and once he persuaded the Queen, who was rather
timid, to let herself be held up in her chair within full view of the
scene. But a fiery horse one day, pawing with his hoof, wore a hole in
the handkerchief, and came down heavily on its side, and after this
Gulliver could no longer trust the strength of his stage.
IV
GULLIVER IS FREED, AND CAPTURES THE BLEFUSCAN FLEET
By this time Gulliver's clothes were almost in rags. The three hundred
tailors had not yet been able to finish his new suit, and he had no
hat at all, for that had been lost as he came ashore from the wreck.
So he was greatly pleased one day when an express message came to the
King from the coast, saying that some men had found on the shore a
great, black, strangely-shaped mass, as high as a man; it was not
alive, they were certain. It had never moved, though for a time they
had watched, before going closer. After making certain that it was not
likely to injure them, by mounting on each other's shoulders they had
got on the top, which they found was flat and smooth, and, by the
sound when stamped upon, they judged that it was hollow. It was
thought that the object might possibly be something belonging to the
Man Mountain, and they proposed by the help of five horses to bring it
to the city.
Gulliver was sure that it must be his hat, and so it turned out. Nor
was it very greatly damaged, either by the sea or by being drawn by
the horses over the ground all the way from the coast, except that two
holes had been bored in the brim, to which a long cord had been fixed
by hooks. Gulliver was much pleased to have it once more.
Two days after this the King took into his head a curious fancy. He
ordered a review of troops to be held, and he directed that Gulliver
should stand with his legs very wide apart, while under him both horse
and foot were commanded to march. Over three thousand infantry and one
thousand cavalry passed through the great arch made by his legs,
colors flying and bands playing. The King and Queen themselves sat in
their State Coach at the saluting point, near to his left leg, and all
the while Gulliver dared not move a hair's-breadth, lest he should
injure some of the soldiers.
Shortly after this, Gulliver was set free. There had been a meeting of
the King's Council on the subject, and the Lord High Admiral was the
only member in favor of still keeping him chained. This great officer
to the end was Gulliver's bitter enemy, and though on this occasion he
was out-voted, yet he was allowed to draw up the conditions which
Gulliver was to sign before his chains were struck off.
The conditions were:
First, that he was not to quit the country without leave granted under
the King's Great Seal.
Second, that he was not to come into the city without orders; at which
times the people were to have two hours' notice to keep indoors.
Third, that he should keep to the high roads, and not walk or lie down
in a meadow.
Fourth, that he was to take the utmost care not to trample on anybody,
or on any horses or carriages, and that he was not to lift any persons
in his hand against their will.
Fifth, that if at any time an express had to be sent in great haste,
he was to carry the messenger and his horse in his pocket a six-days'
journey, and to bring them safely back.
Sixth, that he should be the King's ally against the Blefuscans, and
that he should try to destroy their fleet, which was said to be
preparing to invade Lilliput.
Seventh, that he should help the workmen to move certain great stones
which were needed to repair some of the public buildings.
Eighth, that he should in "two moons' time" make an exact survey of
the kingdom, by counting how many of his own paces it took him to go
all round the coast.
Lastly, on his swearing to the above conditions, it was promised that
he should have a daily allowance of meat and drink equal to the amount
consumed by seventeen hundred and twenty-four of the Lilliputians, for
they estimated that Gulliver's size was about equal to that number of
their own people.
Though one or two of the conditions did not please him, especially
that about helping the workmen (which he thought was making him too
much a servant), yet Gulliver signed the document at once, and swore
to observe its conditions.
After having done so, and having had his chains removed, the first
thing he asked was to be allowed to see the city (which was called
Mildendo). He found that it was surrounded by a great wall about two
and a half feet high, broad enough for one of their coaches and four
to be driven along, and at every ten feet there were strong flanking
towers.
Gulliver took off his coat, lest the tails might do damage to the
roofs or chimneys of the houses, and he then stepped over the wall and
very carefully walked down the finest of the streets, one quite five
feet wide. Wherever he went, the tops of the houses and the attic
windows were packed with wondering spectators, and he reckoned that
the town must hold quite half a million of people.
In the center of the city, where the two chief streets met, stood the
King's Palace, a very fine building surrounded by a wall. But he was
not able to see the whole palace that day, because the part in which
were the royal apartments was shut off by another wall nearly five
feet in height, which he could not get over without a risk of doing
damage.
Some days later he climbed over by the help of two stools which he
made from some of the largest trees in the Royal Park, trees nearly
seven feet high, which he was allowed to cut down for the purpose. By
putting one of the stools at each side of the wall Gulliver was able
to step across. Then, lying down on his side, and putting his face
close to the open windows, he looked in and saw the Queen and all the
young Princes. The Queen smiled, and held her hand out of one of the
windows, that he might kiss it. She was very pleasant and friendly.
One day, about a fortnight after this, there came to call on him,
Reldresal, the King's Chief Secretary, a very great man, one who had
always been Gulliver's very good friend. This person had a long and
serious talk with Gulliver about the state of the country.
He said that though to the outward eye things in Lilliput seemed very
settled and prosperous, yet in reality there were troubles, both
internal and external, that threatened the safety of the kingdom.
There had been in Lilliput for a very long time two parties at bitter
enmity with each other, so bitter that they would neither eat, drink,
nor talk together, and what one party did, the other would always try
to undo. Each professed to believe that nothing good could come from
the other. Any measure proposed by the party in power was by the other
always looked upon as foolish or evil. And any new law passed by the
Government party was said by the Opposition to be either a wicked
attack on the liberties of the people, or something undertaken solely
for the purpose of keeping that party in, and the Opposition out, of
power. To such a pitch had things now come, said the Chief Secretary,
entirely owing to the folly of the Opposition, that the business of
the kingdom was almost at a standstill.
Meantime the country was in danger of an invasion by the Blefuscans,
who were now fitting out a great fleet, which was almost ready to sail
to attack Lilliput. The war with Blefuscu had been raging for some
years, and the losses by both nations of ships and of men had been
very heavy.
This war had broken out in the following way. It had always been the
custom in Lilliput, as far back as history went, for people when
breaking an egg at breakfast to do so at the big end. But it had
happened, said the Chief Secretary, that the present King's
grandfather, when a boy, had once when breaking his egg in the usual
way, severely cut his finger. Whereupon his father at once gave strict
commands that in future all his subjects should break their eggs at
the small end.
This greatly angered the people, who thought that the King had no
right to give such an order, and they refused to obey. As a
consequence no less than six rebellions had taken place: thousands of
the Lilliputians had had their heads cut off, or had been cast into
prison, and thousands had fled for refuge to Blefuscu, rather than
obey the hated order.
These "Big endians," as they were called, had been very well received
at the Court of Blefuscu, and finally the Emperor of that country had
taken upon himself to interfere in the affairs of Lilliput, thus
bringing on war.
The Chief Secretary ended the talk by saying that the King, having
great faith in Gulliver's strength, and depending on the oath which he
had sworn before being released, expected him now to help in defeating
the Blefuscan fleet.
Gulliver was very ready to do what he could, and he at once thought of
a plan whereby he might destroy the whole fleet at one blow. He told
all his ideas on the subject to the King, who gave orders that
everything he might need should be supplied without delay. Then
Gulliver went to the oldest seamen in the navy, and learned from them
the depth of water between Lilliput and Blefuscu. It was, they said,
nowhere deeper than seventy _glumgluffs_ (which is equal to about six
feet) at high water, and there was no great extent so deep.
After this he walked to the coast opposite Blefuscu, and lying down
there behind a hillock, so that he might not be seen should any of the
enemy's ships happen to be cruising near, he looked long through a
small pocket-telescope across the channel. With the naked eye he could
easily see the cliffs of Blefuscu, and soon with his telescope he made
out where the fleet lay--fifty great men-of-war, and many transports,
waiting for a fair wind.
Coming back to the city, he gave orders for a great length of the
strongest cable, and a quantity of bars of iron. The cable was little
thicker than ordinary pack-thread, and the bars of iron much about the
length and size of knitting-needles. Gulliver twisted three of the
iron bars together and bent them to a hook at one end. He trebled the
cable for greater strength, and thus made fifty shorter cables, to
which he fastened the hooks.
Then, carrying these in his hand, he walked back to the coast and
waded into the sea, a little before high water. When he came to
mid-channel, he had to swim, but for no great distance.
As soon as they noticed Gulliver coming wading through the water
towards their ships, the Blefuscan sailors all jumped overboard and
swam ashore in a terrible fright. Never before had any of them seen or
dreamt of so monstrous a giant, nor had they heard of his being in
Lilliput.
Gulliver then quietly took his cables and fixed one securely in the
bows of each of the ships of war, and finally he tied the cables
together at his end. But while he was doing this the Blefuscan
soldiers on the shore plucked up courage and began to shoot arrows at
him, many of which stuck in his hands and face. He was very much
afraid lest some of these might put out his eyes; but he remembered,
luckily, that in his inner pocket were his spectacles, which he put
on, and then finished his work without risk to his eyes.
On pulling at the cables, however, not a ship could he move. He had
forgotten that their anchors were all down. So he was forced to go in
closer and with his knife to cut the vessels free. While doing this he
was of course exposed to a furious fire from the enemy, and hundreds
of arrows struck him, some almost knocking off his spectacles. But
again he hauled, and this time drew the whole fifty vessels after him.
The Blefuscans had thought that it was his intention merely to cast
the vessels adrift, so that they might run aground, but when they saw
their great fleet being steadily drawn out to sea, their grief was
terrible. For a great distance Gulliver could hear their cries of
despair.
When he had got well away from the land, he stopped in order to pick
the arrows from his face and hands, and to put on some of the ointment
that had been rubbed on his wounds when first the Lilliputians fired
into him. By this time the tide had fallen a little, and he was able
to wade all the way across the channel.
The King and his courtiers stood waiting on the shore. They could see
the vessels steadily drawing nearer, but they could not for some time
see Gulliver, because only his head was above water. At first some
imagined that he had been drowned, and that the fleet was now on its
way to attack Lilliput.
There was great joy when Gulliver was seen hauling the vessels; and
when he landed, the King was so pleased that on the spot he created
him a _Nardac_, the highest honor that it was in his power to bestow.
His great success over the Blefuscans, however, turned out to be but
the beginning of trouble for Gulliver. The King was so puffed up by
the victory that he formed plans for capturing in the same way the
whole of the enemy's ships of every kind. And it was now his wish to
crush Blefuscu utterly, and to make it nothing but a province
depending on Lilliput. Thus, he thought, he himself would then be
monarch of the whole world.
In this scheme Gulliver refused to take any part, and he very plainly
said that he would give no help in making slaves of the Blefuscans.
This refusal angered the King very much, and more than once he
artfully brought the matter up at a State Council. Now, several of the
councilors, though they pretended to be Gulliver's friends so long as
he was in favor with the King, were really his secret enemies, and
nothing pleased these persons better than to see that the King was no
longer pleased with him. So they did all in their power to nurse and
increase the King's anger, and to make him believe that Gulliver was a
traitor.
About this time there came to Lilliput ambassadors from Blefuscu,
suing for peace. When a treaty had been made and signed (very greatly
to the advantage of Lilliput), the Blefuscan ambassadors asked to see
the Great Man Mountain, of whom they had heard so much, and they paid
Gulliver a formal call. After asking him to give them some proofs of
his strength, they invited him to visit their Emperor, which Gulliver
promised to do.
Accordingly, the next time that he met the King, he asked, as he was
bound to do by the paper he had signed, for permission to leave the
country for a time, in order to visit Blefuscu. The King did not
refuse, but his manner was so cold that Gulliver could not help
noticing it. Afterwards he learned from a friend that his enemies in
the council had told the King lying tales of his meetings with the
Blefuscan ambassadors, which had had the effect of still further
rousing his anger.
It happened too, most unfortunately, at this time, that Gulliver had
offended the Queen by a well-meant, but badly-managed, effort to do
her a service, and thus he lost also her friendship. But though he was
now out of favor at court, he was still an object of great interest to
every one.
V
GULLIVER'S ESCAPE FROM LILLIPUT AND RETURN TO ENGLAND
Gulliver had three hundred cooks to dress his food and these men, with
their families, lived in small huts which had been built for them near
his house.
He had made for himself a chair and a table. On to this table it was
his custom to lift twenty waiters, and these men then drew up by ropes
and pulleys all his food, and his wine in casks, which one hundred
other servants had in readiness on the ground. Gulliver would often
eat his meal with many hundreds of people looking on.
One day the King, who had not seen him eat since this table had been
built, sent a message that he and the Queen desired to be present that
day while Gulliver dined. They arrived just before his dinner hour,
and he at once lifted the King and Queen and the Princes, with their
attendants and guards, on to the table.
Their Majesties sat in their chairs of state all the time, watching
with deep interest the roasts of beef and mutton, and whole flocks of
geese and turkeys and fowls disappear into Gulliver's mouth. A roast
of beef of which he had to make more than two mouthfuls was seldom
seen, and he ate them bones and all. A goose or a turkey was but one
bite.
Certainly, on this occasion, Gulliver ate more than usual, thinking by
so doing to amuse and please the court.
But in this he erred, for it was turned against him. Flimnap, the Lord
High Treasurer, who had always been one of his enemies, pointed out to
the King the great daily expense of such meals, and told how this huge
man had already cost the country over a million and a half of _sprugs_
(the largest Lilliputian gold coin). Things, indeed, were beginning to
go very ill with Gulliver.
Now it happened about this time that one of the King's courtiers, to
whom Gulliver had been very kind, came to him by night very privately
in a closed chair, and asked to have a talk, without any one else
being present.
Gulliver gave to a servant whom he could trust orders that no one else
was to be admitted, and having put the courtier and his chair upon the
table, so that he might better hear all that was said, he sat down to
listen.
Gulliver was told that there had lately been several secret meetings
of the King's Privy Council, on his account. The Lord High Admiral
(who now hated him because of his success against the Blefuscan
fleet), Flimnap, the High Treasurer, and others of his enemies, had
drawn up against him charges of treason and other crimes. The courtier
had brought with him a copy of these charges, and Gulliver now read
them.
It was made a point against him that, when ordered to do so by the
King, he had refused to seize all the other Blefuscan ships. It was
also said that he would not join in utterly crushing the empire of
Blefuscu, nor give aid when it was proposed to put to death not only
all the Big endians who had fled for refuge to that country, but all
the Blefuscans themselves who were friends of the Big-endians. For
this he was said to be a traitor.
He was also accused of being over-friendly with the Blefuscan
ambassadors; and it was made a grave charge against him that though
his Majesty had not given him written leave to visit Blefuscu, he yet
was getting ready to go to that country, in order to give help to the
Emperor against Lilliput.
There had been many debates on these charges, said the courtier, and
the Lord High Admiral had made violent speeches, strongly advising
that the Great Man Mountain should be put to death. In this he was
joined by Flimnap, and by others, so that actually the greater part of
the council was in favor of instant death by the most painful means
that could be used.
The less unfriendly members of the council, however, while saying that
they had no doubt of Gulliver's guilt, were yet of the opinion that,
as his services to the kingdom of Lilliput had been great, the
punishment of death was too severe. They thought it would be enough if
his eyes were put out. This, they said, would not prevent him from
being still made useful.
Then began a most excited argument, the Admiral and those who sided
with him insisting that Gulliver should be killed at once.
At last the Secretary rose and said that he had a middle course to
suggest. This was, that Gulliver's eyes should be put out, and that
thereafter his food should be gradually so reduced in quantity that in
the course of two or three months he would die of starvation. By which
time, said the Secretary, his body would be wasted to an extent that
would make it easy for five or six hundred men, in a few days, to cut
off the flesh and take it away in cart-loads to be buried at a
distance. Thus there would be no danger of a pestilence breaking out
from the dead body lying near the city. The skeleton, he said, could
then be put in the National Museum.
It was finally decided that this sentence should be carried out, and
twenty of the King's surgeons were ordered to be present in three
days' time to see the operation of putting out Gulliver's eyes
properly done. Sharp-pointed arrows were to be shot into the balls of
his eyes.
The courtier now left the house, as privately as he had come, and
Gulliver was left to decide what he should do.
At first he thought of attacking the city, and destroying it. But by
doing this he must have destroyed, with the city, a great many
thousands of innocent people, which he could not make up his mind to
do.
At last he wrote a letter to the Chief Secretary, saying that as the
King had himself told him that he might visit Blefuscu, he had decided
to do so that morning.
Without waiting for an answer, he set out for the coast, where he
seized a large man-of-war which was at anchor there, tied a cable to
her bow, and then putting his clothes and his blanket on board, he
drew the ship after him to Blefuscu. There he was well received by the
Emperor. But as there happened to be no house big enough for him, he
was forced, during his stay, to sleep each night on the ground,
wrapped in his blanket.
Three days after his arrival, when walking along the seashore, he
noticed something in the water which looked not unlike a boat
floating bottom up. Gulliver waded and swam out, and found that he was
right. It was a boat. By the help of some of the Blefsucan ships, with
much difficulty he got it ashore. When the tide had fallen, two
thousand of the Emperor's dockyard men helped him to turn it over, and
Gulliver found that but little damage had been done.
He now set to work to make oars and mast and sail for the boat, and to
fit it out and provision it for a voyage.
While this work was going on, there came from Lilliput a message
demanding that Gulliver should be bound hand and foot and returned to
that country as a prisoner, there to be punished as a traitor. To this
message the Emperor replied that it was not possible to bind him; that
moreover the Great Man Mountain had found a vessel of size great
enough to carry him over the sea, and that it was his purpose to leave
the Empire of Blefuscu in the course of a few weeks.
Gulliver did not delay his work, and in less than a month he was ready
to sail.
He put on board the boat the carcasses of one hundred oxen and three
hundred sheep, with a quantity of bread and wine, and as much meat
ready cooked as four hundred cooks could prepare.
He also took with him a herd of six live black cows and two bulls, and
a flock of sheep, meaning to take them with him to England, if ever he
should get there. As food for these animals he took a quantity of hay
and corn.
Gulliver would have liked to take with him some of the people, but
this the Emperor would not permit.
Everything being ready, he sailed from Blefuscu on 24th September
1701, and the same night anchored on the lee side of an island which
seemed to be uninhabited. Leaving this island on the following
morning, he sailed to the eastward for two days. On the evening of the
second day he sighted a ship, on reaching which, to his great joy, he
found that she was an English vessel on her way home from Japan.
Putting his cattle and sheep in his coat-pockets, he went on board
with all his cargo of provisions. The captain received him very
kindly, and asked him from whence he had come, and how he happened to
be at sea in an open boat.
Gulliver told his tale in as few words as possible. The captain stared
with wonder, and would not believe his story. But Gulliver then took
from his pockets the black cattle and the sheep, which of course
clearly showed that he had been speaking truth. He also showed gold
coins which the Emperor of Blefuscu had given him, some of which he
presented to the captain.
The vessel did not arrive at the port of London till April, 1702, but
there was no loss of the live stock, excepting that the rats on board
carried off and ate one of the sheep. All the others were got safely
ashore, and were put to graze on a bowling-green at Greenwich, where
they throve very well.
THE ARABIAN NIGHTS
ADAPTED BY AMY STEEDMAN
I
ALADDIN AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP
Far away on the other side of the world, in one of the great wealthy
cities of China, there once lived a poor tailor called Mustapha. He
had a wife whom he loved dearly and an only son whose name was
Aladdin.
But, sad to say, although the tailor was good and industrious, his son
was so idle and bad that his father and mother did not know what to do
with him. All day long he played in the streets with other idle boys,
and when he grew big enough to learn a trade he said he did not mean
to work at all. His poor father was very much troubled, and ordered
Aladdin to come to the workshop to learn to be a tailor, but Aladdin
only laughed, and ran away so swiftly that neither his father nor
mother could catch him.
"Alas!" said Mustapha sadly, "I can do nothing with this idle boy."
And he grew so sad about it, that at last he fell ill and died.
Then the poor widow was obliged to sell the little workshop, and try
to make enough money for herself and Aladdin by spinning.
Now it happened that one day when Aladdin was playing as usual with
the idle street boys, a tall, dark, old man stood watching him, and
when the game was finished he made a sign to Aladdin to come to him.
"What is thy name, my boy?" asked this old man, who, though he
appeared so kind, was really an African Magician.
"My name is Aladdin," answered the boy, wondering who this stranger
could be.
"And what is thy father's name?" asked the Magician.
"My father was Mustapha the tailor, but he has been dead a long time
now," answered Aladdin.
"Alas!" cried the wicked old Magician, pretending to weep, "he was my
brother, and thou must be my nephew. I am thy long-lost uncle!" and he
threw his arms round Aladdin's neck and embraced him.
"Tell thy dear mother that I will come and see her this very day," he
cried, "and give her this small present." And he placed in Aladdin's
hands five gold pieces.
Aladdin ran home in great haste to tell his mother the story of the
long-lost uncle.
"It must be a mistake," she said, "thou hast no uncle."
But when she saw the gold she began to think that this stranger must
be a relation, and so she prepared a grand supper to welcome him when
he came.
They had not long to wait before the African Magician appeared,
bringing with him all sorts of fruits and delicious sweets for desert.
"Tell me about my poor brother," he said, as he embraced Aladdin and
his mother. "Show me exactly where he used to sit."
Then the widow pointed to a seat on the sofa, and the Magician knelt
down and began to kiss the place and weep over it.
The poor widow was quite touched, and began to believe that this
really must be her husband's brother, especially when he began to show
the kindest interest in Aladdin.
"What is thy trade?" he asked the boy.
"Alas!" said the widow, "he will do nothing but play in the streets."
Aladdin hung his head with shame as his uncle gravely shook his head.
"He must begin work at once," he said. "How would it please thee to
have a shop of thy own? I could buy one for thee, and stock it with
silks and rich stuffs."
Aladdin danced with joy at the very idea, and next day set out with
his supposed uncle, who bought him a splendid suit of clothes, and
took him all over the city to show him the sights.
The day after, the Magician again took Aladdin out with him, but this
time they went outside the city, through beautiful gardens, into the
open country. They walked so far that Aladdin began to grow weary, but
the Magician gave him a cake and some delicious fruit and told him
such wonderful tales that he scarcely noticed how far they had gone.
At last they came to a deep valley between two mountains, and there
the Magician paused.
"Stop!" he cried, "this is the very place I am in search of. Gather
some sticks that we may make a fire."
Aladdin quickly did as he was bid, and had soon gathered together a
great heap of dry sticks. The Magician then set fire to them, and the
heap blazed up merrily. With great care the old man now sprinkled some
curious-looking powder on the flames, and muttered strange words. In
an instant the earth beneath their feet trembled, and they heard a
rumbling like distant thunder. Then the ground opened in front of
them, and showed a great square slab of stone with a ring in it.
By this time Aladdin was so frightened that he turned to run home as
fast as he could, but the Magician caught him, and gave him such a
blow that he fell to the earth.
"Why dost thou strike me, uncle?" sobbed Aladdin.
"Do as I bid thee," said the Magician, "and then thou shalt be well
treated. Dost thou see that stone? Beneath it is a treasure which I
will share with thee. Only obey me, and it will soon be ours."
As soon as Aladdin heard of a treasure, he jumped up and forgot all
his fears. He seized the ring as the Magician directed, and easily
pulled up the stone.
"Now," said the old man, "look in and thou wilt see stone steps
leading downwards. Thou shalt descend those steps until thou comest to
three great halls. Pass through them, but take care to wrap thy coat
well round thee that thou mayest touch nothing, for if thou dost, thou
wilt die instantly. When thou hast passed through the halls thou wilt
come into a garden of fruit-trees. Go through it until thou seest a
niche with a lighted lamp in it. Put the light out, pour forth the
oil, and bring the lamp to me."
So saying the Magician placed a magic ring upon Aladdin's finger to
guard him, and bade the boy begin his search.
Aladdin did exactly as he was told and found everything just as the
Magician had said. He went through the halls and the garden until he
came to the lamp, and when he had poured out the oil and placed the
lamp carefully inside his coat he began to look about him.
He had never seen such a lovely garden before, even in his dreams. The
fruits that hung upon the trees were of every color of the rainbow.
Some were clear and shining like crystal, some sparkled with a crimson
light and others were green, blue, violet, and orange, while the
leaves that shaded them were silver and gold. Aladdin did not guess
that these fruits were precious stones, diamonds, rubies, emeralds,
and sapphires, but they looked so pretty that he filled all his
pockets with them as he passed back through the garden.
The Magician was eagerly peering down the stone steps when Aladdin
began to climb up.
"Give me the lamp," he cried, stretching his hand for it.
"Wait until I get out," answered Aladdin, "and then I will give it
thee."
"Hand it up to me at once," screamed the old man angrily.
"Not till I am safely out," repeated Aladdin.
Then the Magician stamped with rage, and rushing to the fire threw on
it some more of the curious powder, uttered the same strange words as
before, and instantly the stone slipped back into its place, the earth
closed over it, and Aladdin was left in darkness.
This showed indeed that the wicked old man was not Aladdin's uncle. By
his magic arts in Africa he had found out all about the lamp, which
was a wonderful treasure, as you will see. But he knew that he could
not get it himself, that another hand must fetch it to him. This was
the reason why he had fixed upon Aladdin to help him, and had meant,
as soon as the lamp was safely in his hand, to kill the boy.
As his plan had failed he went back to Africa, and was not seen again
for a long, long time.
But there was poor Aladdin shut up underground, with no way of
getting out! He tried to find his way back to the great halls and the
beautiful garden of shining fruits, but the walls had closed up, and
there was no escape that way either. For two days the poor boy sat
crying and moaning in his despair, and just as he had made up his mind
that he must die, he clasped his hands together, and in doing so
rubbed the ring which the Magician had put upon his finger.
In an instant a huge figure rose out of the earth and stood before
him.
"What is thy will, my master?" it said. "I am the Slave of the Ring,
and must obey him who wears the ring."
"Whoever or whatever you are," cried Aladdin, "take me out of this
dreadful place."
Scarcely had he said these words when the earth opened, and the next
moment Aladdin found himself lying at his mother's door. He was so
weak for want of food, and his joy at seeing his mother was so great,
that he fainted away, but when he came to himself he promised to tell
her all that had happened.
"But first give me something to eat," he cried, "for I am dying of
hunger."
"Alas!" said his mother, "I have nothing in the house except a little
cotton, which I will go out and sell."
"Stop a moment," cried Aladdin, "rather let us sell this old lamp
which I have brought back with me."
Now the lamp looked so old and dirty that Aladdin's mother began to
rub it, wishing to brighten it a little that it might fetch a higher
price.
But no sooner had she given it the first rub than a huge dark figure
slowly rose from the floor like a wreath of smoke until it reached the
ceiling, towering above them.
"What is thy will?" it asked. "I am the Slave of the Lamp, and must do
the bidding of him who holds the Lamp."
The moment the figure began to rise from the ground Aladdin's mother
was so terrified that she fainted away, but Aladdin managed to snatch
the lamp from her, although he could scarcely hold it in his own
shaking hand.
"Fetch me something to eat," he said in a trembling voice, for the
terrible Genie was glaring down upon him.
The Slave of the Lamp disappeared in a cloud of smoke, but in an
instant he was back again, bringing with him a most delicious
breakfast, served upon plates and dishes of pure gold.
By this time Aladdin's mother had recovered, but she was almost too
frightened to eat, and begged Aladdin to sell the lamp at once, for
she was sure it had something to do with evil spirits. But Aladdin
only laughed at her fears, and said he meant to make use of the magic
lamp and wonderful ring, now that he knew their worth.
As soon as they again wanted money they sold the golden plates and
dishes, and when these were all gone Aladdin ordered the Genie to
bring more, and so they lived in comfort for several years.
Now Aladdin had heard a great deal about the beauty of the Sultan's
daughter, and he began to long so greatly to see her that he could not
rest. He thought of a great many plans, but they all seemed
impossible, for the Princess never went out without a veil, which
covered her entirely. At last, however, he managed to enter the palace
and hide himself behind a door, peeping through a chink when the
Princess passed to go to her bath.
The moment Aladdin's eyes rested upon the beautiful Princess he loved
her with all his heart, for she was as fair as the dawn of a summer
morning.
"Mother," he cried when he reached home, "I have seen the Princess,
and I have made up my mind to marry her. Thou shalt go at once to the
Sultan, and beg him to give me his daughter."
Aladdin's mother stared at her son, and then began to laugh at such a
wild idea. She was almost afraid that Aladdin must be mad, but he gave
her no peace until she did as he wished.
So the next day she very unwillingly set out for the palace, carrying
the magic fruit wrapped up in a napkin, to present to the Sultan.
There were many other people offering their petitions that day, and
the poor woman was so frightened that she dared not go forward, and so
no one paid any attention to her as she stood there patiently holding
her bundle. For a whole week she had gone every day to the palace,
before the Sultan noticed her.
"Who is that poor woman who comes every day carrying a white bundle?"
he asked.
Then the Grand Vizier ordered that she should be brought forward, and
she came bowing herself to the ground.
She was almost too terrified to speak, but when the Sultan spoke so
kindly to her she took courage, and told him of Aladdin's love for the
Princess, and of his bold request, "He sends you this gift," she
continued, and opening the bundle she presented the magic fruit.
A cry of wonder went up from all those who stood around, for never had
they beheld such exquisite jewels before. They shone and sparkled with
a thousand lights and colors, and dazzled the eyes that gazed upon
them.
The Sultan was astounded, and spoke to the Grand Vizier apart.
"Surely it is fit that I should give my daughter to one who can
present such a wondrous gift?" he said....
Now when three months were ended, Aladdin's mother again presented
herself before the Sultan, and reminded him of his promise, that the
Princess should wed her son.
"I ever abide by my royal word," said the Sultan; "but he who marries
my daughter must first send me forty golden basins filled to the brim
with precious stones. These basins must be carried by forty black
slaves, each led by a white slave dressed as befits the servants of
the Sultan."
Aladdin's mother returned home in great distress when she heard this,
and told Aladdin what the Sultan had said.
"Alas, my son!" she cried, "thy hopes are ended."
"Not so, mother," answered Aladdin. "The Sultan shall not have long to
wait for his answer."
Then he rubbed the magic lamp, and when the Genie appeared, he bade
him provide the forty golden basins filled with jewels, and all the
slaves which the Sultan had demanded.
Now when this splendid procession passed through the streets on its
way to the palace, all the people came out to see the sight, and stood
amazed when they saw the golden basins filled with sparkling gems
carried on the heads of the great black slaves. And when the palace
was reached, and the slaves presented the jewels to the Sultan, he
was so surprised and delighted that he was more than willing that
Aladdin should marry the Princess at once.
"Go, fetch thy son," he said to Aladdin's mother, who was waiting
near. "Tell him that this day he shall wed my daughter."
But when Aladdin heard the news he refused to hasten at once to the
palace, as his mother advised. First he called the Genie, and told him
to bring a scented bath, and a robe worked in gold, such as a King
might wear. After this he called for forty slaves to attend him, and
six to walk before his mother, and a horse more beautiful than the
Sultan's, and lastly, for ten thousand pieces of gold put up in ten
purses.
When all these things were ready, and Aladdin was dressed in his royal
robe, he set out for the palace. As he rode along on his beautiful
horse, attended by his forty slaves, he scattered the golden pieces
out of the ten purses among the crowd, and all the people shouted with
joy and delight. No one knew that this was the idle boy who used to
play about the streets but they thought he was some great foreign
Prince.
Thus Aladdin arrived at the palace in great state, and when the Sultan
had embraced him, he ordered that the wedding feast should be prepared
at once, and that the marriage should take place that day.
"Not so, your Majesty," said Aladdin; "I will not marry the Princess
until I have built a palace fit for the daughter of the Sultan."
Then he returned home, and once more called up the Slave of the Lamp.
"Build me the fairest palace ever beheld by mortal eye," ordered
Aladdin. "Let it be built of marble and jasper and precious stones. In
the midst I would have a great hall, whose walls shall be of gold and
silver, lighted by four-and-twenty windows. These windows shall all be
set with diamonds, rubies, and other precious stones, and one only
shall be left unfinished. There must also be stables with horses, and
slaves to serve in the palace. Begone, and do thy work quickly."
And lo! in the morning when Aladdin looked out, there stood the most
wonderful palace that ever was built. Its marble walls were flushed a
delicate pink in the morning light, and the jewels flashed from every
window.
Then Aladdin and his mother set off for the Sultan's palace, and the
wedding took place that day. The Princess loved Aladdin as soon as she
saw him, and great were the rejoicings throughout the city.
The next day Aladdin invited the Sultan to visit the new palace, and
when he entered the great hall, whose walls were of gold and silver
and whose windows were set with jewels, he was filled with admiration
and astonishment.
"It is the wonder of the world," he cried. "Never before have mortal
eyes beheld such a beautiful palace. One thing alone surprises me. Why
is there one window left unfinished?"
"Your Majesty," answered Aladdin, "this has been done with a purpose,
for I wished that thine own royal hand should have the honor of
putting the finishing touch to my palace."
The Sultan was so pleased when he heard this, that he sent at once for
all the court jewelers and ordered them to finish the window like the
rest.
The court jewelers worked for many days, and then sent to tell the
Sultan that they had used up all the jewels they possessed, and still
the window was not half finished. The Sultan commanded that his own
jewels should be given to complete the work; even when these were used
the window was not finished.
Then Aladdin ordered the jewelers to stop their work, and to take back
all the Sultan's jewels as well as their own. And that night he called
up the Slave of the Lamp once more, and bade him finish the window.
This was done before the morning, and great was the surprise of the
Sultan and all his workmen.
Now Aladdin did not grow proud of his great riches but was gentle and
courteous to all, and kind to the poor, so that the people all loved
him dearly. He fought and won many battles for the Sultan, and was the
greatest favorite in the land.
But far away in Africa there was trouble brewing for Aladdin. The
wicked old Magician who had pretended to be Aladdin's uncle found out
by his magic powers that the boy had not perished when he left him
underground, but had somehow managed to escape and become rich and
powerful.
"He must have discovered the secret of the lamp," shrieked the
Magician, tearing his hair with rage. "I will not rest day or night
until I shall have found some way of taking it from him."
So he journeyed from Africa to China, and when he came to the city
where Aladdin lived and saw the wonderful palace, he nearly choked
with fury to see all its splendor and richness. Then he disguised
himself as a merchant, and bought a number of copper lamps, and with
these went from street to street, crying, "New lamps for old."
As soon as the people heard his cry, they crowded round him, laughing
and jeering, for they thought he must be mad to make such an offer.
Now it happened that Aladdin was out hunting, and the Princess sat
alone in the hall of the jeweled windows. When, therefore, she heard
the noise that was going on in the street outside, she called to her
slaves to ask what it meant.
Presently one of the slaves came back, laughing so much that she could
hardly speak.
"It is a curious old man who offers to give new lamps for old," she
cried. "Did any one ever hear before of such a strange way of
trading?"
The Princess laughed too, and pointed to an old lamp which hung in a
niche close by.
"There is an old enough lamp," she said. "Take it and see if the old
man will really give a new one for it."
The slave took it down and ran out to the street once more, and when
the Magician saw that it was indeed what he wanted, he seized the
Magic Lamp with both his hands.
"Choose any lamp you like," he said, showing her those of bright new
copper. He did not care now what happened. She might have all the new
lamps if she wanted them.
Then he went a little way outside the city, and when he was quite
alone he took out the Magic Lamp and rubbed it gently. Immediately the
Genie stood before him and asked what was his will.
"I order thee to carry off the palace of Aladdin, with the Princess
inside, and set it down in a lonely spot in Africa."
And in an instant the palace, with every one in it, had disappeared,
and when the Sultan happened to look out of his window, lo! there was
no longer a palace to be seen.
"This must be enchantment," he cried.
Then he ordered his men to set out and bring Aladdin to him in chains.
The officers met Aladdin as he was returning from the hunt, and they
immediately seized him, loaded him with chains, and carried him off to
the Sultan. But as he was borne along, the people gathered around him,
for they loved him dearly, and vowed that no harm should befall him.
The Sultan was beside himself with rage when he saw Aladdin, and gave
orders that his head should be cut off at once. But the people had
begun to crowd into the palace, and they were so fierce and
threatening that he dared not do as he wished. He was obliged to order
the chains to be taken off, and Aladdin to be set free.
As soon as Aladdin was allowed to speak he asked why all this was done
to him.
"Wretch!" exclaimed the Sultan, "come hither, and I will show thee."
Then he led Aladdin to the window and showed him the empty space where
his palace had once stood.
"Think not that I care for thy vanished palace," he said. "But where
is the Princess, my daughter?"
So astonished was Aladdin that for some time he could only stand
speechless, staring at the place where his palace ought to have been.
At last he turned to the Sultan.
"Your Majesty," he said, "grant me grace for one month, and if by that
time I have not brought back thy daughter to thee, then put me to
death as I deserve."
So Aladdin was set free, and for three days he went about like a
madman, asking every one he met where his palace was. But no one could
tell him, and all laughed at his misery. Then he went to the river to
drown himself; but as he knelt on the bank and clasped his hands to
say his prayers before throwing himself in, he once more rubbed the
Magic Ring. Instantly the Genie of the Ring stood before him.
"What is thy will, O master?" it asked.
"Bring back my Princess and my palace," cried Aladdin, "and save my
life."
"That I cannot do," said the Slave of the Ring. "Only the Slave of the
Lamp has power to bring back thy palace."
"Then take me to the place where my palace now stands," said Aladdin,
"and put me down beneath the window of the Princess."
And almost before Aladdin had done speaking he found himself in
Africa, beneath the windows of his own palace.
He was so weary that he lay down and fell fast asleep; but before
long, when day dawned, he was awakened by the song of the birds, and
as he looked around his courage returned. He was now sure that all his
misfortunes must have been caused by the loss of the Magic Lamp, and
he determined to find out as soon as possible who had stolen it.
That same morning the Princess awoke feeling happier than she had felt
since she had been carried off. The sun was shining so brightly, and
the birds were singing so gaily, that she went to the window to greet
the opening day. And who should she see standing beneath her window
but Aladdin!
With a cry of joy she threw open the casement and the sound made
Aladdin look up. It was not long before he made his way through a
secret door and held her in his arms.
"Tell me, Princess," said Aladdin, when they had joyfully embraced
each other many times, "what has become of the old lamp which hung in
a niche of the great hall?"
"Alas! my husband," answered the Princess, "I fear my carelessness has
been the cause of all our misfortunes."
Then she told him how the wicked old Magician had pretended to be a
merchant, and had offered new lamps for old, and how he had thus
managed to secure the Magic Lamp.
"He has it still," she added, "for I know that he carries it always,
hidden in his robe."
"Princess," said Aladdin, "I must recover this lamp, and thou shalt
help me. To-night when the Magician dines with thee, dress thyself in
thy costliest robes, and be kind and gracious to him. Then bid him
fetch some of the wines of Africa, and when he is gone, I will tell
thee what thou shalt do."
So that night the Princess put on her most beautiful robes, and looked
so lovely and was so kind when the Magician came in, that he could
scarcely believe his eyes. For she had been sad and angry ever since
he had carried her off.
"I believe now that Aladdin must be dead," she said, "and I have made
up my mind to mourn no longer. Let us begin our feast. But see! I grow
weary of these wines of China, fetch me instead the wine of thy own
country."
Now Aladdin had meanwhile prepared a powder which he directed the
Princess to place in her own wine-cup. So when the Magician returned
with the African wine, she filled her cup and offered it to him in
token of friendship. The Magician drank it up eagerly, and scarcely
had he finished when he dropped down dead.
Then Aladdin came out of the next chamber where he had hidden himself,
and searched in the Magician's robe until he found the Magic Lamp. He
rubbed it joyfully, and when the Genie appeared, ordered that the
palace should be carried back to China, and set down in its own place.
The following morning, when the Sultan rose early, for he was too sad
to take much rest, he went to the window to gaze on the place where
Aladdin's palace had once stood. He rubbed his eyes, and stared wildly
about.
"This must be a dream," he cried, for there stood the palace in all
its beauty, looking fairer than ever in the morning light.
Not a moment did the Sultan lose, but he rode over to the palace at
once, and when he had embraced Aladdin and his daughter, they told him
the whole story of the African Magician. Then Aladdin showed him the
dead body of the wicked old man, and there was peace between them once
more.
But there was still trouble in store for Aladdin. The African Magician
had a younger brother who also dealt in magic, and who was if possible
even more wicked than his elder brother.
Full of revenge, this younger brother started for China, determined
to punish Aladdin and steal the Magic Lamp for himself. As soon as he
arrived he went in secret to the cell of a holy woman called Fatima,
and obliged her to give him her robe and veil as a disguise. Then to
keep the secret safe he killed the poor woman.
Dressed in the robe and veil, the wicked Magician walked through the
streets near Aladdin's palace, and all the people as he passed by
knelt and kissed his robe, for they thought he was indeed the holy
woman.
As soon as the Princess heard that Fatima was passing by in the
street, she sent and commanded her to be brought into the hall, and
she treated the supposed holy woman with great respect and kindness,
for she had often longed to see her.
"Is not this a fine hall?" she asked, as they sat together in the hall
of the jeweled windows.
"It is indeed most beautiful," answered the Magician, who kept his
veil carefully down, "but to my mind there is one thing wanting. If
only thou couldst have a roc's egg hung in the dome it would be
perfect."
As soon as the Princess heard these words she became discontented and
miserable, and when Aladdin came in, she looked so sad that he at once
asked what was the matter.
"I can never be happy until I have a roc's egg hanging from the dome
of the great hall," she answered.
"In that case thou shalt soon be happy," said Aladdin gaily, and
taking down the lamp, he summoned the Genie.
But when the Slave of the Lamp heard the order his face grew terrible
with rage, and his eyes gleamed like burning coals.
"Vile wretch!" he shrieked, "have I not given thee all thy wishes, and
now dost thou ask me to kill my master, and hang him as an ornament in
thy palace? Thou deservest truly to die; but I know that the request
cometh not from thine own heart, but was the suggestion of that wicked
Magician who pretends to be a holy woman."
With these words the Genie vanished, and. Aladdin went at once to the
room where the Princess was awaiting him.
"I have a headache," he said. "Call the holy woman, that she may place
her hand upon my forehead and ease the pain."
But the moment that the false Fatima appeared Aladdin sprang up and
plunged his dagger into that evil heart.
"What hast thou done?" cried the Princess. "Alas! thou hast slain the
holy woman."
"This is no holy woman," answered Aladdin, "but an evil Magician whose
purpose was to destroy us both."
So Aladdin was saved from the wicked design of the two Magicians, and
there was no one left to disturb his peace. He and the Princess lived
together in great happiness for many years, and when the Sultan died
they succeeded to the throne, and ruled both wisely and well. And so
there was great peace throughout the land.
II
THE ENCHANTED HORSE
It was New Year's day in Persia, the most splendid feast-day of all
the year, and the King had been entertained, hour after hour, by the
wonderful shows prepared for him by his people. Evening was drawing on
and the court was just about to retire, when an Indian appeared,
leading a horse which he wished to show to the King. It was not a real
horse, but it was so wonderfully made that it looked exactly as if it
were alive.
"Your Majesty," cried the Indian, as he bowed himself to the ground,
"I beg thou wilt look upon this wonder. Nothing thou hast seen to-day
can equal this horse of mine. I have only to mount upon its back and
wish myself in any part of the world, and it carries me there in a few
minutes." Now the King of Persia was very fond of curious and clever
things, so he looked at the horse with great interest.
"It seems only a common horse," he said, "but thou shalt show us what
it can do."
Then he pointed to a distant mountain, and bade the Indian to fetch a
branch from the palm-trees which grew near its foot.
The Indian vaulted into the saddle, turned a little peg in the horse's
neck, and in a moment was flying so swiftly through the air that he
soon disappeared from sight. In less than a quarter of an hour he
reappeared, and laid the palm-branch at the King's feet.
"Thou art right," cried the King; "thy enchanted horse is the most
wonderful thing I have yet seen. What is its price? I must have it for
my own."
The Indian shook his head.
"Your Majesty," he said, "this horse can never be sold for money, but
can only be exchanged for something of equal value. It shall be thine
only if thou wilt give me instead the Princess, your daughter, for my
wife."
At these words the King's son sprang to his feet.
"Sire," he cried, "thou wilt never dream of granting such a request."
"My son," answered the King, "at whatever cost I must have this
wonderful horse. But before I agree to the exchange, I would wish thee
to try the horse, and tell me what thou thinkest of it."
The Indian, who stood listening to what they said, was quite willing
that the Prince should try the Enchanted Horse, and began to give him
directions how to guide it. But as soon as the Prince was in the
saddle and saw the peg which made the horse start, he never waited to
hear more. He turned the screw at once, and went flying off through
the air.
"Alas!" cried the Indian, "he has gone off without learning how to
come back. Never will he be able to stop the horse unless he finds the
second peg."
The King was terribly frightened when he heard the Indian's words,
for, by this time, the Prince had disappeared from sight.
"Wretch," he cried, "thou shalt be cast into prison, and unless my son
returns in safety, thou shalt be put to death."
Meanwhile the Prince had gone gaily sailing up into the air until he
reached the clouds, and could no longer see the earth below. This was
very pleasant, and he felt that he had never had such a delicious ride
in his life before. But presently he began to think it was time to
descend. He screwed the peg round and round, backwards and forwards,
but it seemed to make no difference. Instead of coming down he sailed
higher and higher, until he thought he was going to knock his head
against the blue sky.
What was to be done? The Prince began to grow a little nervous, and he
felt over the horse's neck to see if there was another peg to be found
anywhere. To his joy, just behind the ear. He touched a small screw,
and when he turned it, he felt he was going slower and slower, and
gently turning round. Then he shouted with joy as the Enchanted Horse
flew downwards through the starry night, and he saw, stretched out
before him, a beautiful city gleaming white through the purple mantle
of the night.
Everything was strange to him, and he did not know in what direction
to guide the horse, so he let it go where it would, and presently it
stopped on the roof of a great marble palace. There was a gallery
running round the roof, and at the end of the gallery there was a door
leading down some white marble steps.
The Prince began at once to descend the steps, and found himself in a
great hall where a row of black slaves were sleeping soundly, guarding
the entrance to a room beyond.
Very softly the Prince crept past the guards, and lifting the curtain
from the door, looked in.
And there he saw a splendid room lighted by a thousand lights and
filled with sleeping slaves, and in the middle, upon a sofa, was the
most beautiful Princess his eyes had ever gazed upon.
She was so lovely that the Prince held his breath with admiration as
he looked at her. Then he went softly to her side, and, kneeling by
the sofa, gently touched her hand. The Princess sighed and opened her
eyes, but before she could cry out, he begged her in a whisper to be
silent and fear nothing.
"I am a Prince," he said, "the son of the King of Persia. I am in
danger of my life here, and crave thy protection."
Now this Princess was no other than the daughter of the King of
Bengal, who happened to be staying alone in her summer palace outside
the city.
"I will protect thee," said the Princess kindly, giving him her hand.
Then she awoke her slaves and bade them give the stranger food and
prepare a sleeping-room for him.
"I long to hear thy adventures and how thou camest here," she said to
the Prince, "but first thou must rest and refresh thyself."
Never before had the Princess seen any one so gallant and handsome as
this strange young Prince. She dressed herself in her loveliest robes,
and twined her hair with her most precious jewels, that she might
appear as beautiful as possible in his eyes. And when the Prince saw
her again, he thought her the most charming Princess in all the world,
and he loved her with all his heart. But when he had told her all his
adventures she sighed to think that he must now leave her and return
to his father's court.
"Do not grieve," he said, "I will return in state as befits a Prince,
and demand thy hand in marriage from the King thy father."
"Stay but a few days ere thou goest," replied the Princess. "I cannot
part with thee so soon."
The Prince was only too willing to wait a while, and the Princess
entertained him so well with feasts and hunting-parties that day after
day slipped by, and still he lingered.
At last, however, the thought of his home and his father's grief made
him decide to return at once.
"My Princess," he said, "since it is so hard to part, wilt thou not
ride with me upon the Enchanted Horse? When we are once more in Persia
our marriage shall take place, and then we will return to the King thy
father."
So together they mounted the Enchanted Horse and the Prince placed his
arm around the Princess and turned the magic peg. Up and up they flew
over land and sea, and then the Prince turned the other screw, and
they landed just outside his father's city. He guided the horse to a
palace outside the gates, and there he left the Princess, for he
wished to go alone to prepare his father.
Now when the Prince reached the court he found every one dressed in
brown, and all the bells of the city were tolling mournfully.
"Why is every one so sad?" he asked of one of the guards.
"The Prince, the Prince!" cried the man. "The Prince has come back."
And soon the joyful news spread over the town, and the bells stopped
tolling and rang a joyful peal.
"My beloved son!" cried the King, as he embraced him. "We thought thou
wert lost for ever, and we have mourned for thee day and night."
Without waiting to hear more, the Prince began to tell the King all
his adventures, and how the Princess of Bengal awaited him in the
palace outside the gates.
"Let her be brought here instantly," cried the King, "and the marriage
shall take place to-day."
Then he ordered that the Indian should be set free at once and allowed
to depart with the Enchanted Horse.
Great was the surprise of the Indian when, instead of having his head
cut off as he had expected, he was allowed to go free with his
wonderful horse. He asked what adventures had befallen the Prince, and
when he heard of the Princess who was waiting in the palace outside
the gates, a wicked plan came into his head.
He took the Enchanted Horse, and went straight to the palace before
the King's messengers could reach it.
"Tell the Princess," he said to the slaves, "that the Prince of Persia
has sent me to bring her to his father's palace upon the Enchanted
Horse."
The Princess was very glad when she heard this message, and she
quickly made herself ready to go with the messenger.
But alas! as soon as the Indian turned the peg and the horse flew
through the air, she found she was being carried off, far away from
Persia and her beloved Prince.
All her prayers and entreaties were in vain. The Indian only mocked at
her, and told her he meant to marry her himself.
Meanwhile the Prince and his attendants had arrived at the palace
outside the gates, only to find that the Indian had been there before
them and had carried off the Princess.
The Prince was nearly beside himself with grief, but he still hoped
to find his bride. He disguised himself as a dervish and set off to
seek for her, vowing that he would find her, or perish in the attempt.
By this time the Enchanted Horse had traveled many hundreds of miles.
Then, as the Indian was hungry, it was made to descend into a wood
close to a town of Cashmere.
Here the Indian went in search of food, and when he returned with some
fruit he shared it with the Princess, who was faint and weary.
As soon as the Princess had eaten a little she felt stronger and
braver, and as she heard horses galloping past, she called out loudly
for help.
The men on horseback came riding at once to her aid, and she quickly
told them who she was, and how the Indian had carried her off against
her will. Then the leader of the horsemen, who was the Sultan of
Cashmere, ordered his men to cut off the Indian's head. But he placed
the Princess upon his horse and led her to his palace.
Now the Princess thought that her troubles were all at an end, but she
was much mistaken. The Sultan had no sooner seen her than he made up
his mind to marry her, and he ordered the wedding preparations to be
begun without loss of time.
In vain the Princess begged to be sent back to Persia. The Sultan only
smiled and fixed the wedding-day. Then when she saw that nothing would
turn him from his purpose, she thought of a plan to save herself. She
began talking all the nonsense she could think of and behaving as if
she were mad, and so well did she pretend, that the wedding was put
off, and all the doctors were called in to see if they could cure her.
But whenever a doctor came near the Princess she became so wild and
violent that he dared not even feel her pulse, so none of them
discovered that she was only pretending.
The Sultan was in great distress, and sent far and near for the
cleverest doctors. But none of them seemed to be able to cure the
Princess of her madness.
All this time the Prince of Persia was wandering about in search of
his Princess, and when he came to one of the great cities of India, he
heard every one talking about the sad illness of the Princess of
Bengal who was to have married the Sultan. He at once disguised
himself as a doctor and went to the palace, saying he had come to cure
the Princess.
The Sultan received the new doctor with joy, and led him at once to
the room where the Princess sat alone, weeping and wringing her hands.
"Your Majesty," said the disguised Prince, "no one else must enter the
room with me, or the cure will fail."
So the Sultan left him, and the Prince went close to the Princess, and
gently touched her hand.
"My beloved Princess," he said, "dost thou not know me?"
As soon as the Princess heard that dear voice she threw herself into
the Prince's arms, and her joy was so great that she could not speak.
"We must at once plan our escape," said the Prince. "Canst thou tell
me what has become of the Enchanted Horse?"
"Naught can I tell thee of it, dear Prince," answered the Princess,
"but since the Sultan knows its value, no doubt he has kept it in some
safe place."
"Then first we must persuade the Sultan that thou art almost cured,"
said the Prince. "Put on thy costliest robes and dine with him
to-night, and I will do the rest."
The Sultan was charmed to find the Princess so much better, and his
joy knew no bounds when the new doctor told him that he hoped by the
next day to complete the cure.
"I find that the Princess has somehow been infected by the magic of
the Enchanted Horse," he said. "If thou wilt have the horse brought
out into the great square, and place the Princess upon its back, I
will prepare some magic perfumes which will dispel the enchantment.
Let all the people be gathered together to see the sight, and let the
Princess be arrayed in her richest dress and decked with all her
jewels."
So next morning the Enchanted Horse was brought out into the crowded
square, and the Princess was mounted upon its back. Then the disguised
Prince placed four braziers of burning coals round the horse and threw
into them a perfume of a most delicious scent. The smoke of the
perfume rose in thick clouds, almost hiding the Princess, and at that
moment the Prince leaped into the saddle behind her, turned the peg,
and sailed away into the blue sky.
But as he swept past the Sultan, he cried aloud, "Sultan of Cashmere,
next time thou dost wish to wed a Princess, ask her first if she be
willing to wed thee."
So this was the manner in which the Prince of Persia carried off the
Princess of Bengal for the second time. The Enchanted Horse never
stopped until it had carried them safely back to Persia, and there
they were married amid great rejoicings.
But what became of the Enchanted Horse? Ah! that is a question which
no one can answer.
III
SINDBAD THE SAILOR
In the city of Bagdad, far away in Persia, there lived a poor man
called Hindbad. He was a porter, and one hot afternoon, as he was
carrying a very heavy load, he stopped to rest in a quiet street near
a beautiful house which he had never seen before. The pavement outside
was sprinkled with rose-water, which felt very cool and pleasant to
his hot, weary feet, and from the open windows came the most delicious
scents which perfumed all the air.
Hindbad wondered who lived in this beautiful house, and presently he
went up to one of the splendidly dressed servants, who was standing at
the door, and asked to whom it belonged. The servant stared in
amazement.
"Dost thou indeed live in Bagdad and knowest not my master's name?" he
said. "He is the great Sindbad the Sailor, the man who has sailed all
round the world, and who has had the most wonderful adventures under
the sun."
Now Hindbad had often heard of this wonderful man and of his great
riches, and as he looked at the beautiful palace and saw the
splendidly dressed servants it made him feel sad and envious. As he
turned away sighing, to take up his load again, he looked up into the
blue sky, and said aloud:
"What a difference there is between this man's lot and mine. He has
all that he wants, and nothing to do but to spend money and enjoy a
pleasant life, while I have to work hard to get dry bread enough to
keep myself and my children alive. What has he done that he should be
so lucky, and what have I done that I should be so miserable?"
Just then one of the servants touched him on the shoulder, and said to
him: "My noble master wishes to see thee, and has bidden me fetch thee
to him."
The poor porter was frightened at first, for he thought some one might
have overheard what he had been saying, but the servant took his arm
and led him into the great dining-hall. There were many guests seated
round the table, on which was spread a most delicious feast, and at
the head of the table sat a grave, stately old man with a long white
beard. This was Sindbad the Sailor. He smiled kindly on poor
frightened Hindbad, and made a sign that he should come and sit at his
right hand. Then all the most delicious things on the table were
offered by the servants to Hindbad, and his glass was filled with the
choicest wine, so that he began to feel it must all be a dream.
But when the feast was over Sindbad turned to him and asked him what
it was he had been saying outside the window just before he came in.
Then Hindbad was very much ashamed, and hung his head as he answered:
"My lord, I was tired and ill-tempered, and I said foolish words,
which I trust thou wilt now pardon."
"Oh," replied Sindbad, "I am not so unjust as to blame thee. I am
indeed only sorry for thee. But thou wert wrong in thinking that I
have always led an easy life, and that these riches came to me without
trouble or suffering. I have won them by years of toil and danger."
Then turning to his other guests he said, "Yes, my friends, the tale
of my adventures is enough to warn every one of you never to go in
search of wealth. I have never told you the story of my voyages, but
if you will listen I will begin this very night."
So the servants were ordered to carry home the porter's load, that he
might stay in Sindbad's palace that evening and listen to the story.
"My father left me a great deal of money when I was a young man, but I
spent it so quickly and foolishly that I began to see it would soon
all be gone. This made me stop and think, for I did not like the idea
of being poor. So I counted up all the money that remained, and made
up my mind that I would trade with it. I joined a company of
merchants, and we set sail in a good ship, meaning to go from place to
place, and sell or exchange our goods at whatever towns we stopped.
And so began my first voyage.
"For the first few days I could think of nothing but the heaving of
the waves; but by and by I began to feel better, and never again was I
at all unhappy upon the sea. One afternoon, when the wind had suddenly
dropped and we were lying becalmed, we found ourselves near a little
low green island, which looked like a meadow, and only just showed
above the sea. The captain of the ship gave us permission to land, and
presently we were all enjoying ourselves on the green meadow. We
walked about for some time and then sat down to rest, and some of us
set to work to light a fire, that we might make our evening meal.
"But scarcely had the fire begun to burn, when we heard loud shouts
from the ship warning us to come back at once, for what we had taken
to be an island was indeed the back of a sleeping whale. My companions
all rushed to the boats, but before I could follow them the great
monster dived down and disappeared, leaving me struggling in the
water.
"I clung to a piece of wood which we had brought from the ship to make
the fire, and I could only hope that I would soon be picked up by my
companions. But alas! there was so much confusion on board that no one
missed me, and as a wind sprang up the captain set sail, and I was
left alone at the mercy of the waves.
"All night long I floated, and when morning came I was so tired and
weak that I thought I must die. But just then a great wave lifted me
up and threw me against the steep side of an island, and to my joy I
managed to climb the cliff and rest on the green grass above.
"Soon I began to feel better, and as I was very hungry I went to look
for something to eat. I found some plants which tasted good, and a
spring of clear water, and having made a good meal, I walked about the
island to see what I would find next.
"Before long I came to a great meadow where a horse was tied, and as I
stood looking at it, I heard men's voices which sounded as if they
came from under the earth. Then from an underground cave a man
appeared, who asked me who I was and where I came from. He took me
into the cave where his companions were, and they told me they were
the grooms belonging to the King of the island, whose horses they
brought to feed in the meadow. They gave me a good meal, and told me
it was very lucky that I had come just then, for next day, they meant
to return to their master, and would show me the way, which I could
never have found for myself.
"So we set off together early next morning, and when we reached the
city I was very kindly received by the King. He listened to the story
of my adventures, and then bade his servants see that I wanted for
nothing.
"As I was a merchant I took great interest in the shipping, and often
went down to the quay to see the boats unload. One day when I was
looking over a cargo which had just been landed, what was my
astonishment to see a number of bales with my own name marked on them.
I went at once to the captain and asked him who was the owner of these
bales of goods.
"'Ah!' replied the captain, 'they belonged to a merchant of Bagdad
called Sindbad. But he, alas! perished in a dreadful way soon after we
sailed, for with a number of people belonging to my ship he landed on
what looked like a green island, but which was really the back of a
great sleeping whale. As soon as the monster felt the warmth of the
fire which they had lighted on his back, he woke up and dived below
the sea. Many of my men were drowned, and among them poor Sindbad. Now
I mean to sell his goods that I may give the money to his relations
when I find them.'
"'Captain,' said I, 'these bales are mine, for I am that Sindbad who
thou sayest was drowned.'
"'What wickedness there is in the world,' cried the captain. 'How
canst thou pretend to be Sindbad when I saw him drowned before my
eyes?'
"But presently, when I had told him all that had happened to me, and
when the other merchants from the ship knew me to be the true Sindbad,
he was overjoyed, and ordered that the bales should be at once given
to me.
"Now I was able to give the King a handsome present, and after I had
traded with my goods for sandal-wood, nutmegs, ginger, pepper and
cloves, I set sail once more with the kind old captain. On the way
home I was able to sell all my spices at a good price, so that when I
landed I found I had a hundred thousand sequins.
"My family were delighted to see me again, and I soon bought some land
and built a splendid house, in which I meant to live happily and
forget all the troubles through which I had passed."
Here Sindbad ended the story of his first voyage. He ordered the music
to strike up and the feast to go on, and when it was over he gave the
poor porter Hindbad a hundred gold pieces and told him to come back at
the same time next evening if he wished to hear the tale of the second
voyage.
Hindbad went joyfully home, and you can imagine how happy the poor
family were that night.
Next evening he set out once more for Sindbad's house, dressed in his
best clothes. There he enjoyed a splendid supper as before, and when
it was over Sindbad said:
"I was very happy for some time at home, but before long I began to
grow weary of leading an idle life. I longed to be upon the sea again,
to feel the good ship bounding over the waves, and to hear the wind
whistling through the rigging.
"So I set to work at once and bought all kinds of goods that I might
sell again in foreign lands, and then, having found a suitable ship, I
set sail with other merchants, and so began my second voyage.
"We stopped at many places, and sold our goods at a great profit, and
all went well until one day when we landed on a new island. It was a
most beautiful place, fair as the garden of Eden, where exquisite
flowers made a perfect rainbow of color and delicious fruits hung in
ripe clusters above.
"Here, under the shadow of the tree, I sat down to rest and to feast
my eyes upon all the loveliness around. I ate the food I had brought
with me, drank my wine, and then closed my eyes. The soft music of the
stream which flowed close by was like a song in my ears, and, before I
knew what I was doing, I fell asleep.
"I cannot tell how long I slept, but when at last I opened my eyes, I
could not see my companions anywhere, and when I looked towards the
sea, to my horror I found the ship was gone. It was sailing away, a
white speck in the distance, and here was I, left alone upon this
desert island. I cried aloud and wrung my hands with grief, and wished
with all my heart that I had stayed safely at home. But what was the
use of wishing that now?
"So I climbed into a high tree, and looked around to see if I could by
any means find a way of escape from the island. First I looked towards
the sea, but there was no hope for me there, and then I turned and
looked inland. The first thing that caught my eye was a huge white
dome, that seemed to rise from the center of the island, unlike
anything I had ever seen before.
"I climbed down the tree, and made my way towards the white dome as
quickly as I could, but when I reached it, it puzzled me more than
ever. It was like a great smooth ball, much too slippery to climb, and
into it there was no door or entrance of any sort. I walked round and
round it, wondering what it could be, when suddenly a dark shadow fell
upon everything and it grew black as night.
"I gazed upwards in great fear, and knew that the shadow was cast by a
great bird with outspread wings hovering over the place where I stood
and shutting out heaven's light. As I looked, it suddenly came
swooping down, and sat upon the white dome.
"Then it flashed into my mind that this must be the bird which I had
heard sailors talk of, called a roc, and the smooth white ball must be
its egg.
"Quick as thought, I unbound my turban, and twisted it into a rope.
Then I wound it round and round my waist, and tied the two ends
tightly round the roc's leg, which was close to where I stood.
"'It will fly away soon, and carry me away with it off this desert
island,' I said to myself joyfully.
"And sure enough, before very long I felt myself lifted off the
ground, and carried up and up until it seemed as if we had reached the
clouds. Then the huge bird began to sink down again, and when it
reached the ground I quickly untied my turban, and set myself free.
"I was so small, compared to the roc, that it had never even noticed
me, but darted off towards a great black object lying near, which it
seized with its beak and carried off. Imagine my horror when I looked
again and saw other dark objects, and discovered that they were great
black snakes.
"Here was I, in a deep valley, with mountains rising sheer up on every
side, and nothing to be seen among the rocks but those terrible black
snakes.
"'Oh!' I cried, 'why did I ever try to leave the desert island? I have
indeed only come into worse misfortune.'
"As I looked around, I noticed that the ground was strewn with
sparkling stones, which seemed to quiver with light, and when I looked
nearer, I found they were diamonds of extraordinary size, although
lying about like common pebbles. At first I was delighted, but they
soon ceased to please me, for I feared each moment I might be seized
by one of the terrible snakes.
"These snakes were so large that they could easily have swallowed an
elephant, and although they lay quiet during the day, and hid
themselves for fear of the roc, at night they came out in search of
food. I managed to find a cave among the rocks before nightfall, and
there I sat in fear and trembling until morning, when I once more went
out into the valley.
"As I sat thinking what I should do next, I saw a great piece of raw
meat come bounding down into the valley, from rock to rock. Then
another piece followed, and another, until several large pieces lay at
my feet.
"Then I remembered a tale which travelers had told me about the famous
Diamond Valley. They said that every year, when the young eagles were
hatched, merchants went to the heights above, and rolled down great
pieces of raw meat into the valley. The diamonds on which the meat
fell would often stick into the soft flesh, and then when the eagles
came, and carried off the meat to feed their young ones, the merchants
would beat them off their nests, and take the diamonds out of the
meat.
"I had never believed this wonderful tale, but now indeed I knew it to
be true, and felt sure that I was in the famous Diamond Valley.
"I had quite given up all hope of escape, for there was no possible
way of climbing out of the valley, but as I watched the eagles carry
off the lumps of raw meat, I thought of a plan, and hope revived.
"First of all I searched around, and filled all my pockets with the
biggest diamonds I could find. Then I chose out the largest piece of
meat and fastened myself securely to it, with the rope made out of my
turban. I knew that the eagles would soon come for more food, so I lay
flat on the ground, with the meat uppermost, and holding on tightly, I
waited for what would happen next. I had not long to wait before a
gigantic eagle came swooping down. It seized the meat and carried it
and me swiftly up, until it reached its nest high among the mountain
rocks. And no sooner had it dropped me into the nest, than a man
climbed out from behind the rock, and with loud cries frightened the
eagle away. Then this man, who was the merchant to whom the nest
belonged, came eagerly to look for his piece of meat. When he saw me,
he started back in surprise and anger.
"'What doest thou here?' he asked roughly. 'How dost thou dare to try
and steal my diamonds?'
"'Have patience,' I answered calmly, 'I am no thief, and when thou
hast heard my story thou wilt pity and not blame me. As for diamonds,
I have some here which will more than make up to thee for thy
disappointment.'
"Then I told him and the other merchants all my adventures, and they
cast up their eyes to heaven in surprise at my courage, and the
wonderful manner in which I had managed to escape so many dangers.
Pulling out a handful of diamonds, I then passed the precious stones
round among them, and they all declared them to be the finest they had
ever seen.
"'Thou shalt choose one, to make up for thy disappointment,' I said to
the merchant who had found me.
"'I will choose this small one,' he replied, picking out one of the
least of the glistening heap.
"I urged him to take a larger one, but he only shook his head.
"'This one will bring me all the wealth I can desire,' he said, 'and I
need no longer risk my life seeking for more.'
"Then we all set off for the nearest port, where we found a ship ready
to carry us home. We had many adventures on the way, but at last we
reached our journey's end, and when I had sold my diamonds, I had so
much money that I gave a great deal to the poor, and lived in even
greater splendor than before."
Here Sindbad paused, and ordered that another hundred gold pieces
should be given to Hindbad, and that he should depart. But next
evening when the guests had all assembled and Hindbad had also
returned, Sindbad began once more to tell them a story of his
adventures.
"This time," began Sindbad, "I stayed at home for the space of a whole
year, and then I prepared to set out on another voyage. My friends and
relations did all in their power to prevent my going, but I could not
be persuaded, and before long I set sail in a ship which was about to
make a very long voyage.
"Nothing went well with us from the beginning. We were driven out of
our course by storms and tempests, and the captain and pilot knew not
where we were. When at last they found out in which direction we had
drifted, things seemed in a worse state than ever. We were alarmed to
see the captain suddenly pull off his turban, tear the hair from his
beard, and beat his head as if he were mad.
"'What is the matter?' we asked, gathering round him.
"'Alas!' he cried, 'we are lost. The ship is now caught in a dangerous
current from which nothing can save her and us. In a very few moments
we shall all be dashed to pieces.'
"No sooner had he spoken than the ship was carried along at a
tremendous speed straight on to a rocky shore which lay at the foot of
a steep mountain.
"But although the ship was dashed to pieces, we all managed to escape,
and were thrown with our goods and some provisions high on to the
rocky strip of shore. Here we found the scattered remains of many
wrecks, and quantities of bones bleached white in the sun.
"'We may prepare ourselves for death,' said the captain mournfully.
'No man has ever escaped from this shore, for it is impossible to
climb the mountain behind us, and no ship dare approach to save us.'
"But nevertheless he divided the provisions among us, that we might
live as long as possible.
"One thing that surprised me greatly was a river of fresh water which
flowed out of the mountain, and, instead of running into the sea,
disappeared into a rocky cavern on the other side of the shore. As I
gazed into the mouth of this cavern I saw that it was lined with
sparkling gems, and that the bed of the river was studded with rubies
and diamonds and all manner of precious stones. Great quantities of
these were also scattered around, and treasures from the wrecked ships
lay in every corner of the shore.
"One by one my companions died as they came to the end of their food,
and one by one I buried them, until at last I was left quite alone. I
was able to live on very little, and so my food had lasted longer.
"'Woe is me!' I cried, 'who shall bury me when I die? Why, oh! why was
I not content to remain safe and happy at home?'
"As I bemoaned my evil fate I wandered to the banks of the river, and
as I watched it disappear into the rocky cave a happy thought came to
me. Surely if this stream entered the mountain it must have an opening
somewhere, and if I could only follow its course I might yet escape.
"Eagerly I began to make a strong raft of the wood and planks which
were scattered all over the shore. Then I collected as many diamonds
and rubies and as much wrecked treasure as my raft would hold, and
took my last little store of food. I launched the raft with great
care, and soon found myself floating swiftly along until I disappeared
into the dark passage of the cavern.
"On and on I went through the thick darkness, the passage seeming to
grow smaller and narrower until I was obliged to lie flat on the raft
for fear of striking my head. My food was now all gone, and I gave
myself up for lost, and then mercifully I fell into a deep sleep which
must have lasted many hours. I was awakened by the sound of strange
voices, and jumping up, what was my joy to find I was once more in
heaven's sunshine.
"The river was flowing gently through a green, pleasant land, and the
sounds I had heard were the voices of a company of negroes who were
gently guiding my raft to the bank.
"I could not understand the language these negroes spoke, until at
last one of their number began to speak to me in Arabic.
"Peace be to thee!' he said. 'Who art thou, and whence hast thou come?
We are the
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