Chapter XXII: Part 22

Now both kings went off, and nothing is told of their journey until they came to the old king. The young king announced to his father his coming and that he brought with him what he had ordered last year. He wished his father to call together a ting[FN#424] in order that he might show openly how he had performed his tasks. This was done, and the king and the queen and other great folk were assembled. First the tent was put forward and nobody could find fault with it. Secondly the young king gave the wondrous healing water to his father. The queen was prayed to taste it and see if it was the right water, taken at the right time. She said that both things were as they should be. Then said the old king, "Now the third and heaviest of all the tasks is left: come, and have it off your hands quickly." Then the young king summoned the king with one eye, and as he appeared on the ting he waxed so hideous that all the people were struck with fright and horror, and most of all the king. When this ugly monarch had shown himself for a while there he thrust his staff against the breast of the queen and tilted her up into the air on the top of it, and then thrust her against the ground with such force that every bone in her body was broken. She turned at once into the most monstrous troll ever beheld. After this the one eyed king rushed away from the ting and the people thronged round the old king in order to help him, for he was in the very jaws of death from fright. The healing water was sprinkled on him and refreshed him.

After the death of the queen, who was killed of course when she turned into a troll, the king confessed that all the tasks which he had given his son to perform were undeserved and that he had acted thus, egged on by the queen. He called his son to him and humbly begged his forgiveness for what he had done against him. He declared he would atone for it by giving into his hand all that kingdom, while he himself only wished to live in peace and quiet for the rest of his days. So the young king sent for his queen and for the courtiers whom he loved most. And, to make a long story short, they gave up their former kingdom to the king with one eye, as a reward, for his lifetime, but governed the realm of the old king to a high age, in great glee and happiness,

The Two Sisters Who Envied Their Cadette--p. 313.

Legends of castaway infants are common to the folk-lore of almost all countries and date far back into antiquity. The most usual mode of exposing them--to perish or be rescued, as chance might direct--is placing them in a box and launching them into a river. The story of Moses in the bulrushes, which must of course be familiar to everybody, is not only paralleled in ancient Greek and Roman legends (e.g. Perseus, Cyrus, Romulus), but finds its analogue in Babylonian folk-lore.[FN#425] The leading idea of the tale of the Envious Sisters, who substituted a puppy, a kitten, and a rat for the three babes their young sister the queen had borne and sent the little innocents away to be destroyed, appealing, as it does to the strongest of human instincts, is the theme of many popular fictions from India to Iceland. With a malignant mother-in-law in place of the two sisters, it is the basis of a medi val European romance entitled "The Knight of the Swan," and of a similar tale which occurs in "Dolopathus," the oldest version of the "Seven Wise Masters," written in Latin prose about the year 1180: A king while hunting loses his way in a forest and coming to a fountain perceives a beautiful lady, whom he carries home and duly espouses much against the will of his mother, Matabrun. Some time after, having to lead his knights and men-at-arms against an enemy, he commits the queen, now far advanced in pregnancy to the care of his mother, who undertakes that no harm shall befall her during his absence. The queen is delivered at one birth of seven lovely children, six boys and one girl, each of whom has a silver chain around its neck.[FN#426] The king's mother plots with the midwife to do away with the babes and place seven little dogs in bed beside the poor queen. She gives the children to one of her squires, charging him either to slay them or cast them into the river. But when the squire enters the forest his heart relents and laying the infants wrapped in his mantle, on the ground, he returns and tells his mistress that he has done her behest. When the king returns, the wicked Matabrun accuses his wife to him of having had unnatural commerce with a dog, and shows him the seven puppies. The scene which follows presents a striking likeness to that in the Arabian story after the birth of the third child. King Oriant is full of wrath, and at once assembles his counsellors, "dukes, earls knights and other lords of the realm, with the bishop and prelate of the church," and having stated the case, the bishop pleads in favour of the queen, and finally induces him not to put her to death, but confine her in prison for the rest of her life. Meanwhile the children are discovered by an aged hermit, who takes them to his dwelling, baptises them and brings them up. After some years it happens that a yeoman in the service of the king's mother, while hunting in the forest, perceives the seven children with silver chains round their necks seated under a tree. He reports this to Matabrun, who forthwith sends him back to kill the children and bring her their silver chains. He finds but six of them one being absent with the hermit, who was gone alms seeking; and, touched by their innocent looks, he merely takes off the silver chains, whereupon they become transformed into pretty white swans and fly away. How the innocence of the queen is afterwards vindicated by her son Helyas--he who escaped being changed into a swan--and how his brethren and sister are restored to their proper forms would take too long to tell, and indeed the rest of the romance has no bearing on the Arabian tale.[FN#427]

In another mediaeval work, from which Chaucer derived his Man of Law's Tale, the Life of Constance, by Nicholas Trivet, an English Dominican monk, the saintly heroine is married to a king, in whose absence at the wars his mother plots against her daughter-in- law. When Constance gives birth to a son, the old queen causes letters to be written to the king, in which his wife is declared to be an evil spirit in the form of a woman and that she had borne, not a human child, but a hideous monster. The king, in reply, commands Constance to be tended carefully until his return. But the traitress contrives by means of letters forged in the king's name to have Constance and her son sent to sea in a ship, where she meets with strange adventures. Needless to say, the old queen's wicked devices come to naught.

The story of the Envious Sisters as told by Galland was known in Italy (as Dr. W. Grimm points out in the valuable notes to his K. u. H.M.) many generations before the learned Frenchman was born, through the "Pleasant Nights" of Straparola. That Galland took his story from the Italian novelist it is impossible to believe, since, as Mr. Coote has observed, Straparola's work "was already known in France for a couple of centuries through a popular French translation," and Galland would at once have been an easily convicted copyist. Moreover the story, imitated from Straparola, by Madame d'Aulnois, under the title of "La Belie Etoile et Le Prince Cheri," had been published before Galland's last two volumes appeared, and both those writers had the same publisher. It is clear, therefore, that Galland neither invented the story nor borrowed it from Straparola or Madame d'Aulnois. Whence, then, did he obtain it?--that is the question. His Arabic source has not yet been discovered, but a variant of the world-wide story is at the present day orally current in Egypt and forms No. xi. of "Comes Arabes Modernes. Recueillis et Traduits par Guillaume Spitta Bey" (Paris, 1883), of which the following is a translation:

MODERN ARABIC VERSION.

There was once a King who said to his vazír, "Let us take a walk through the town during the night." In walking about they came to a house where they heard people talking, and stopping before it they heard a girl say, "If the King would marry me, I would make him a tart (or pie) so large that it would serve for him and his army." And another said, "If the King would marry me, I would make him a tent that would shelter him and his whole army." Then a third said, "If the King would marry me, I would present him with a daughter and a son, with golden hair, and hair of hyacinth colour alternately; if they should weep, it would thunder, and if they should laugh, the sun and moon would appear." The King on hearing these words went away, and on the following day he sent for the three girls and made the contract of marriage with them. He passed the first night with the one who had spoken first, and said to her, "Where is the tart that would be sufficient for me and my army?" She answered him, "The words of the night are greased with butter: when day appears they melt away." The next night he slept with the second, saying to her, "Where is the tent which would be large enough for me and my army?" She answered him, "It was an idea that came into my mind." So the King ordered them to go down into the kitchen among the slaves. He passed the third night with the tattle one, saying, "Where are the boy and girl whose hair is to be like gold and hyacinth?" She replied, "Tarry with me nine months and nine minutes." In due time she became pregnant, and on the night of her confinement the midwife was sent for. Then the other wife of the King went and met her in the street and said to her, "When she has been delivered, how much will the King give you ?" She answered, "He will issue orders to give me fifteen mahbúbs.[FN#428] The other said, "Behold, here are forty mahhúbs from me. Take these two little blind puppies, and when she has given birth to a son and a daughter, take them and place them in a box and put these two puppies in their stead, and remove the children." The midwife took the money and the little dogs and went away. When the King's new wife was safely delivered, the midwife did according to her agreement with the other wife of the King, and then went before him and said, "I fear to speak." He answered, "Speak; I grant you pardon." Then said she, "Your wife has been delivered of two dogs." Then the King gave orders, saying, "Take and cover her with tar, and bind her to the staircase, and let any who may go up or down spit upon her," which was done accordingly. And the midwife carried away the children and threw them into the river.

Now there was a fisherman who lived on an island with his wife, and they had no children. On the morrow he went to the water-side to fish and found a box driven on to the shore He carried it home to his wife, and placing it between them, he said, "Listen, my dear, I am going to make a bargain with you: if this contains money, it will be for me, if it contains children, they will be for you." She replied, "Very well, I am quite content." They then opened the box and found in it a baby boy and girl. The baby boy had his finger in the baby girl's mouth and the latter had her finger in his mouth, and they were sucking one another's fingers. The woman took them out of the box and prayed to Heaven, "Make milk come into my breasts, for the sake of these little ones." And by the Almighty power the milk came into her breasts, and she continued to bring them up until they had reached the age of twelve years.

One day the fisherman caught two large white fish, and the youth said to him, "These two white fish are pretty, my father; I will take and sell them, or carry them as a present to the King." So the boy took them and went away. He sat down with them in the Fish Market: people gathered about him, and those who did not look at the fish looked at the boy. The King also came past, and seeing the two white fish and the boy he called to him saying, "What is the price, my lad?" The boy answered, "They are a present for you, my prince." Thereupon the King took him to the palace and said to him, "What is your name?" and he replied, "My name is Muhammed, and my father is the fisherman who lives on the island." Then the King gave him thirty mahbúbs, saying, "Go away, discreet one, and every day return here to my house." So the lad returned home and gave the money to his father. The next morning two more white fish were caught and Muhammed carried them to the King, who took him into his garden and made him sit down opposite him. The King remained there drinking his wine and looking on the beauty of the youth: love for the lad entered his heart and he remained with him two hours.[FN#429] Then he gave orders to provide the youth with a horse for his use in coming to and returning from his house, and Muhammed mounted the horse and rode home.

When he visited the King the following day he was again led into the garden, and the other wife of the King, looking from her window saw the lad and recognised him. She at once sent for the old midwife, and said to her, "I bade you kill the children, yet they are still living upon the earth." Replied the old woman, "Have patience with me, O Queen for three days, and I will kill him." Then she went away, and having procured a pitcher tied it to her girdle, bewitched it, mounted on it, and struck it with a whip, and forthwith the pitcher flew away with her and descended upon the island near the fisherman's cottage.[FN#430] She found the young girl, Muhammed's sister, sitting alone, and thus addressed her: "My dear, why are you thus alone and sad? Tell your brother to fetch you the rose of Arab Zandyk, that it may sing to you and amuse you, instead of your being thus lonely and low-spirited." When her brother came home, he found her displeased and asked her, "Why are you vexed, my sister?" She replied, "I should like the rose of Arab Zandyk, that it may sing to me and amuse me." "At your command," said he; "I am going to bring it to you."

He mounted his horse and travelled into the midst of the desert, where he perceived an ogress seated and pounding wheat with a millstone on her arm. Alighting, he came up to her and saluted her saying, "Peace be with you, mother ogress." She replied, "If your safety did not prevail over your words, I would eat the flesh from off your bones." Then she asked, "Where are you going, Muhammed the Discreet?" He answered, "I am in quest of the singing rose of Arab Zandyk." She showed him the way, saying, "You will find before the palace a kid and a dog fastened, and before the kid a piece of meat and before the dog a bunch of clover: lift the meat and throw it to the dog, and give the clover to the kid.[FN#431] Then the door will open for you: enter and pluck the rose; return immediately without looking behind you, because, if you do so, you will be bewitched and changed into stone, like the enchanted ones who are there." Muhammed the Discreet carefully followed the instructions of the ogress: plucked the rose, went out by the door, put back the meat before the kid and the clover before the dog, and carried the rose home to his sister.

Then he again went to the house of the King, who saluted him and said, "Where hast thou been, discreet one? Why hast thou absented thyself so long from my house?" And he answered, "I was sick, O King." Then the King took him by the hand and entered the garden, and both sat down. The wife of the King saw them seated together, and sending for the midwife she angrily asked, "Why do you befool me, old woman?" She replied "Have patience with me for three days more, O Queen." Then she mounted her pitcher and arriving at the house of the young girl, she said, "Has thy brother fetched thee the rose?" "Yes," answered the girl, "but it does not sing." Quoth the old woman, "It only sings with its looking-glass," and then went away. When the youth returned he found his sister vexed, and he asked, "Why are you so sad, my sister?" She replied, "I should like the looking-glass of the rose, by means of which it sings." Quoth he, "I obey your orders, and will bring it to you."

Muhammed the Discreet rode on till he came to the ogress, who asked him what he wanted. "I wish," said he, "the looking-glass of the rose." "Well, go and do with the dog and kid as you did before. When you have entered the garden you will find some stairs go up them, and in the first room you come to you will find the mirror suspended. Take it, and set out directly, without looking behind you. If the earth shake with you, keep a brave heart, otherwise you will have gone on a fruitless errand." He went and did according to the instructions of the ogress. In taking away the mirror the earth shook under him, but he made his heart as hard as an anvil and cared nothing for the shaking. But when he brought the mirror to his sister and she had placed it before the rose of Arab Zandyk, still the rose sang not.

When he visited the King, he excused his absence, saying, "I was led on a journey with my father, but here am I, returned once more." The King led him by the hand into the garden, and the wife of the King again perceiving him she sent for the midwife and demanded of her, "Why do you mock me again, old woman?" Quoth she, "Have patience with me for three days, O Queen; this time will be the beginning and the end." Then she rode on her pitcher to the island, and asked the young girl, "Has thy brother brought thee the mirror?" "Yes, but still the rose sings not." "Ah, it only sings with its mistress, who is called Arab Zandyk," and so saying she departed. Muhammed the Discreet on his return home again found his sister disconsolate, and in answer to his inquiries, she said, "I desire Arab Zandyk, mistress of the rose and of the mirror, that I may amuse myself with her when you are absent."

He at once mounted his horse and rode on till he came to the house of the ogress. "How fares it with you, mother ogress?" "What do you want now, Muhammed the Discreet?" "I wish Arab Zandyk, mistress of the rose and of the mirror." Quoth the ogress, "Many kings and pashas have not been able to bring her: she hath changed them all into stone; and thou art small and poor--what will become of thee?" "Only, my dear mother ogress show me the way, and I shall bring her, with the permission of God." Said the ogress, "Go to the west side of the palace; there you will find an open window. Bring your horse under the window and then cry in a loud voice, 'Descend, Arab Zandyk!'" Muhammed the Wary went accordingly, halted beneath the window, and cried out, "Descend, Arab Zandyk!" She looked from her window scornfully and said," Go away, young man." Muhammed the Discreet raised his eyes and found that half of his horse was changed into stone. A second time cried he in a loud voice, "Descend, Arab Zandyk!" She insulted him and said, "I tell you, go away, young man.' He looked again and found his horse entirely enchanted and half of himself as well. A third time he cried in a loud voice, "I tell you, descend, Arab Zandyk!" She inclined herself half out of the window, and her hair fell down to the ground. Muhammed the Discreet seized it, twined it round his hand pulled her out, and threw her on the earth. Then said she, "Thou art my fate, Muhammed the Wary; relinquish thy hold of my hair, by the life of thy father the King." Quoth he "My father is a fisherman." "Nay," she replied, "thy father is the King, by-and-by I will tell thee his history." Quoth he, "I will leave hold of your hair when you have set at liberty the enchanted men." She made a sign with her right arm and they were at once set free. They rushed headlong towards Muhammed the Prudent to take her from him but some of them said "Thanks to him who hath delivered us: do you still wish to take her from him?" So they left him and went their several ways.

Arab Zandyk then took him by the hand and led him into her castle. She gave her servants orders to build a palace in the midst of the isle of the fisherman, which being accomplished, she took Muhammed the Discreet and her soldiers and proceeded thither and then she said to him, "Go to the King, and when he asks you where you have been reply, 'I have been preparing my nuptials and invite you, with your army.'" He went to the King and spoke as Arab Zandyk had instructed him, upon which the King laughed and said to his vazír, "This young man is the son of a fisherman and comes to invite me with my army!" Quoth the vazír, "On account of your love for him, command that the soldiers take with them food for eight days, and we also will take our provender for eight days." The King having issued orders to that effect, and all being ready, they all set out and arriving at the house of the fisherman's son, they found a large number of beautiful tents erected for the soldiers' accommodation and the King was astonished. Then came the feasting--one dainty dish being quickly followed by another still more delicious and the soldiers said among themselves, "We should like to remain here for two years to eat meat and not be obliged to eat only beans and lentils." They continued there forty days until the nuptials were completed, well content with their fare. Then the King departed with his army. The King sent a return invitation, and Arab Zandyk commanded her soldiers to set out in order to precede her to the capital. When the soldiers arrived they filled the town so that there was scarcely sufficient house-room for them. Then Arab Zandyk set out accompanied by Muhammed and his sister. They entered the royal palace, and as they ascended the staircase, Arab Zandyk perceived the mother of Muhammed covered with tar and in chains, so she threw over her a cashmere shawl and covered her. The servants who were standing about said to Arab Zandyk, "Why do you cover her with a shawl? Spit upon her when you go up and also when you come down." She asked, "Why so?" Said they, "Because she gave birth to two dogs." Then they went to the King and said, "A lady amongst the strangers has thrown a cashmere shawl over her who is fastened to the staircase, and has covered her without spitting upon her." The King went and met Arab Zandyk and asked, "Why have you covered her?" Said she, "Give orders that she be conducted to the bath, cleansed, and dressed in a royal robe, after which I will relate her history." The King gave the required orders, and when she was decked in a royal robe they conducted her into the divan. Then said the King to Arab Zandyk, "Tell me now the history." Said she, "Listen, O King, the fisherman will speak," and then Arab Zandyk said to the fisherman, "Is it true that your wife gave birth to Muhammed and his sister at one time or at separate times?" He replied, "My wife has no children." "Where, then did you get them?" Quoth he, "I went one morning to fish, and found them in a box on the bank of the river. I took them home, and my wife brought them up." Arab Zandyk then said, "Hast thou heard, O King?" and turning to his wife, "Are these thy children, O woman?" Said she, "Tell them to uncover their heads that I may see them." When they uncovered their heads, they were seen to have alternately hair of gold and hair of hyacinth. The King then asked her, "Are these thy children?" "Tell them to weep: if it thunders and rains, they are my children, and if it does not thunder or rain, they are not mine." The children wept, and it thundered and rained. Then he asked her again, "Are these thy children?" And she said, "Tell them to laugh: if the sun and moon appear, they are my children." They told them to laugh, and the sun and moon appeared. Then he asked her once more, "Are these thy children?" and she said, "They are my children!" Then the King appointed the fisherman vazír of his right hand, and commanded that the city be illuminated for forty whole days; on the last day he caused his other wife and the old witch (the midwife) to be led out and burnt, and their ashes to be dispersed to the winds.

The variations between this and Galland's story are very considerable, it must be allowed, and though the fundamental outline is the same in both, they should be regarded as distinct versions of the same tale, and both are represented by Asiatic and European stories. Here the fairy Arab Zandyk plays the part of the Speaking-Bird, which, however, has its equivalent in the preceding tale (No. x.) of Spitta Bey's collection:

A man dies, leaving three sons and one daughter. The sons build a palace for their sister and mother. The girl falls in love with some one who is not considered as an eligible parti by the brothers. By the advice of an old woman, the girl asks her brothers to get her the singing nightingale, in hope that the bird would throw sand on them and thus send them down to the seventh earth. The eldest before setting out on this quest leaves his chaplet with his younger brother, saying that if it shrank it would be a token that he was dead. Journeying through the desert some one tells him that many persons have been lost in their quest of the singing nightingale: he must hide himself till he sees the bird go into its cage and fall asleep, then shut the cage and carry it off. But he does not wait long enough, and tries to shut the cage while the bird's feet are still outside, so the bird takes up sand with its feet and throws it on him, and he descends to the seventh earth. The second brother, finding the chaplet shrunk, goes off in his turn, leaving his ring with the youngest brother--if it contract on the finger it will betoken his death. He meets with the same fate as his elder brother, and now the youngest, finding the ring contract, sets out, leaving with his mother a rose, which will fade if he dies. He waits till the singing nightingale is asleep, and then shuts him in the cage. The bird in alarm implores to be set at liberty, but the youth demands first the restoration of his brothers, and the bird tells him to scatter on the ground some sand from beneath the cage, which he does, when only a crowd of negroes and Turks (? Tátárs) appear, and confess their failure to capture the singing nightingale. Then the bird bids him scatter white sand, which being done, 500 whites and the two lost brothers appear and the three return home with the bird, which sings so charmingly in the palace that all the people come to listen to it outside.--The rest of this story tells of the amours of the girl and a black, who, at her instigation, kills her eldest brother, but he is resuscitated by the Water of Life.

Through the Moors, perhaps, the story found its way among the wandering tribes (the Kabail) of Northern Africa, who have curiously distorted its chief features, though not beyond recognition, as will be seen from the following abstract of their version, from M. Riviere's collection of "Comes Populaires de la Kabylie du Djurdjura" (Paris, 1882):

KABA'IL VERSION.

A man has two wives, one of whom is childless, the other bears in succession seven sons and a daughter. The childless wife cuts off the little finger of each and takes them one by one into the forest, where they are brought up. An old woman comes one day and tells the daughter that if her brothers love her they will give her a bat. The girl cries to her brothers for a bat, and one of them consults an aged man, who sends him to the sea shore. He puts down his gun under a tree, and a bat from above cries out, "What wild beast is this ?" The youth replies, "You just go to sleep, old fellow." The bat comes down, touches the gun and it becomes a piece of wood; touches the youth and he becomes microscopic. This in turn happens to all the brothers, after which the girl goes to the sea-shore, and when she is under the tree the bat calls out, "What wild beast is this?" But she does not answer she waits till the bat is asleep, then climbs the tree, and catching the "bird" (sic), asks it where her brothers are, and on her promising to clothe the bat in silver and gold, the creature touches the guns and the brothers, and they are restored to their proper forms. The bat then conducts them to their father's house, where he asks lodgings and is refused by the childless wife. The husband takes them in however and kills a sheep for their entertainment. The childless wife poisons the meat, and the bat warns the children, bidding them try a cock, a dog, and a cat with it, which is done, and the animals die. The brothers now decline the food and ask that their sister be allowed to prepare somewhat for them to eat. Then the bat touches the eyes of the children, who immediately recognise their parents, and great is the rejoicing. The childless wife is torn in pieces by being dragged at the tail of a wild horse, and the bat, having been dressed in silver and gold, is sent back to his tree.

Sir Richard has given (p. 313, note) some particulars of the version in Hahn's collection of modern Greek tales, which generally corresponds with Galland's story. There is a different version in M. Legrand's "Recueil de Contes Populaires Grecs" (Paris, 1881), which combines incidents in the modern Arabic story of Arab Zandyk with some of those in Galland and some which it has exclusively:

MODERN GREEK VERSION.

Three daughters of an old woman disobey the order of the King, not to use a light at night because of the scarcity of oil, and work on as usual. The King in going round the town to see if his order is obeyed comes to their house, and overhears the eldest girl express a wish that she were married to the royal baker, so that she should have plenty of bread. The second wishes the King's cook for her husband, to have royal meals galore. The youngest wishes to have the King himself, saying she would bear him as children, "Sun," "Moon," and "Star." Next day the King sends for them and marries each as she had wished. When the youngest brings forth the three children, in successive years, her mother-in-law, on the advice of a "wise woman," (? the midwife) substitutes a dog, a cat and a serpent, and causes the infants to be put in a box and sent down the river, and the queen is disgraced.

An old monk, in the habit of going down to the river and taking one fish daily, one day gets two fishes, and asks God the reason. In reply he is told that he will henceforth have two mouths to feed. Presently, he finds the box with the infant "Sun" in it and takes him home. Next year he gets one day three fishes, and finds the infant "Moon", and the third year he has four fishes one day and finds the baby-girl, "Star." When the children have grown up the monk sends them to town in order that they should learn the ways of the world. The eldest hearing a Jew offering a box for sale, saying, "Whoever buys this box will be sorry for it, and he who does not buy it will be equally sorry," purchases it and on taking it home finds his sister weeping for the golden apple which the "wise woman" (who had found them out) told her she must get. He opens the Jew's box and finds a green and winged horse in it. The horse tells him how to get the golden apple from the forty guardian dragons. They go and get it. After this the old woman comes again and tells the sister that she must get the golden bough, on which all the birds in the world sing, and this also is procured by the help of the green and winged horse. A third time the old trot comes and says to the girl, "You must get Tzitzin na to explain the language of birds." The eldest brother starts off on the horse, and arriving at the dwelling of Tzitzin na he calls her name, whereupon he, with the horse, is turned to stone up to the knees; and calling again on her they become marble to the waist. Then the youth burns a hair he had got from the monk, who instantly appears, calls out "Tzitzinaena," and she comes forth, and with the water of immortality the youth and horse are disenchanted. After the youth has returned home with Tzitzin na, the King sees the three children and thinks them like those his wife had promised to bear him. He invites them to dinner, at which Tzitzin na warns them of poisoned meats, some of which they give to a dog they had brought with them, and the animal dies on the spot. They ask the King to dine at their house and he goes. Tzitzin na by clapping her hands thrice procures a royal feast for him; then, having induced the King to send for his wife, she tells the whole story of the mother-in-law's evil doings, and shows the King that "Sun," "Moon" and "Star" are his own children. The King's mother and the old woman are torn to pieces.

In Albania, as might be expected, our story is orally current in a form which resembles both the Greek version, as above, and the tale of Arab Zandyk, more especially the latter; and it may have been derived from the Turks, though I am not aware that the story has been found in Turkish. This is an abstract of the second of M. Dozon's "Comes Albanais" (Paris, 1881), a most entertaining collection:

ALBANIAN VERSION.

There was a King who had three daughters. When he died, his successor proclaimed by the crier an order prohibiting the use of lights during the night of his accession. Having made this announcement, the King disguised himself and went forth alone. After walking about from place to place he came to the abode of the daughters of the late King, and going up close to it he overheard their conversation. This is what the eldest was saying, "If the King took me for his wife, I would make him a carpet upon which the whole of his army could be seated and there would still be room to spare." Then said the second, "If the King would take me for his wife, I would make him a tent under which the whole army could be sheltered, and room would still remain." Lastly, the youngest said, "If the King should espouse me, I would bring him a son and a daughter with a star on their foreheads and a moon on their shoulders."

The King, who had not lost a word of this conversation, sent for the sisters on the morrow and married all three.[FN#432] The eldest, as she had declared, made a carpet on which the whole army was seated, and yet there was room to spare. The second, in her turn, made a tent under which all the army found shelter. As to the youngest, after a time, she grew great, and her confinement approached. The day she was delivered the King was absent, and on his return he inquired what she had given birth to. The two elder sisters replied, "A little cat and a little mouse." On hearing this the King ordered the mother to be placed upon the staircase, and commanded every one who entered to spit upon her.

Now she had given birth to a boy and a girl, but her two sisters, after having shut them up in a box, sent them away by a servant to be exposed on the bank of the river, and a violent wind afterwards arising, the box was drifted to the other side. There was a mill on that side, where dwelt an old man and his wife. The old man having found the box brought it home. They opened it, and discovered the boy and girl, with a star on their foreheads and a moon on their shoulders. Astonished thereat, they took them out and brought the children up as well as they could.

Time passed away; the old woman died, and soon after came the turn of the old man. Before dying he called the youth to him and said, "Know, my son, that in such a place is a cave where there is a bridle which belongs to me. That bridle is thine, but avoid opening the cave before forty days have elapsed, if you wish the bridle to do whatever you command." The forty days having expired, the young man went to the cave, and on opening it found the bridle. He took it in his hand and said to it, "I want two horses," and in a moment two horses appeared. The brother and sister mounted them, and in the twinkling of an eye they arrived in their father's country. There the young man opened a caf⁄, and his sister remained secluded at home.

As the caf⁄ was the best in the country, the King came to hear of it, and when he entered it he saw the youth, who had a star on his forehead. He thought him so beautiful [and lingered so long] that he returned late to the palace, when he was asked why he had tarried so late. He replied, that a young lad had opened a caf⁄, and was so beautiful that he had never seen his equal; and, what was most extraordinary, there was a star on his brow. The sisters no sooner heard these words of the King than they understood that he referred to their younger sister's son. Full of rage and spite, they quickly devised a plan of causing his death. What did they do? They sent to his sister an old woman, who said to her, "Thy brother, O my daughter, can hardly love thee, for he is all day at the caf⁄ and has a good time of it, while he leaves thee here alone. If he truly loves thee, tell him to bring thee a flower from the Belle of the Earth, so that thou too mayest have something to divert thyself with." On returning home that evening the young man found his sister quite afflicted, and asked the cause of her grief. "Why should I not grieve?" said she "You leave me alone, secluded here, while you go about as your fancy directs. If you love me, go to the Belle of the Earth and bring a flower, so that I too may be amused." "Console yourself," replied he, and at once gave orders to the bridle. An enormous horse appeared, which he mounted and set off.

As he journeyed, a lamia presented herself before him, and said, "I have a great desire to eat thee, but thou also excitest pity, and so I leave thee thy life." The young man then inquired of her how he could find the Belle of the Earth. "I know nothing about it, my son," replied the lamia; "but go ask my second sister." So he rode off and came to her, and she drew near, intending to devour him, but seeing him so beautiful, she asked where he was going. He told his story and said, "Do you know the way to the Belle of the Earth'" But she in her turn sent him to her elder sister, who on seeing him rushed out to eat him, but like the others, was touched by his comeliness and spared him; and when he inquired after the Belle of the Earth, "Take this handkerchief," said she, "and when thou arrivest at her abode, use it to open the door. Inside thou wilt see a lion and a lamb; throw brains to the lion and grass to the lamb." So he went forward and did all the lamia advised. He tried the door and it opened; threw brains to the lion and grass to the lamb, and they allowed him to pass. He went in and pulled a flower, and he had no sooner done so than he found himself at his own door.

Great was his sister's joy as she began playing with the flower. But on the morrow the two sisters sent the old woman to her again. "Has he brought thee the flower?" she asked. "Yes, he has." Thou art content," said the old hag; "but if thou hadst the handkerchief of the Belle of the Earth, it would be quite another thing." When her brother came home he found her in tears, and in reply to his inquiries, "What pleasure," said she--"what pleasure can this flower give me? So long as I have not the handkerchief of the Belle of the Earth I shall not be happy." Then he, desirous that his sister should have no cause for grief, mounted his horse, and in the same manner as he had obtained the flower, possessed himself of the handkerchief and brought it home to his sister.

On the morrow, when the young man had gone to his caf⁄, the old witch again visited his sister, who informed her that her brother had brought her the handkerchief. "How happy," said the sorceress--"how happy thou art in having a brother who brings thee whatever thou desirest! But if thou cost wish to spend thy life like a pasha's wife, thou must also obtain the owner of that handkerchief."

To please his sister, the young man once more sets out, and coming to the eldest of the lamiae and telling her his errand, "O my son," said she, "thou canst go there, but as to carrying away the mistress of the handkerchief, that is not so easy. However, try in some way to obtain possession of her ring, for therein lies all her power." So he continues his journey, and after passing the lion and the lamb he comes to the chamber of the Belle of the Earth. He finds her asleep, and approaching her noiselessly draws the ring from her finger, upon which she awakes and discovering that she had not her ring, there was no alternative but to submit to his will. They set out together and in the twinkling of an eye arrived at the young man's house. On perceiving them the sister was overcome with joy.

It happened next day that the King again went to the caf⁄, and on his return home ordered supper to be prepared, saying that he had invited the young man and all his friends. The sisters instructed the cooks to put poison in the food, which they did accordingly. At nightfall the young man arrived, accompanied by the Belle of the Earth, whom he had married, and his sister. But none of them, notwithstanding the entreaties of the King, would touch any food, for the Belle of the Earth had revealed to them that the meats were poisoned: they merely ate a few mouthfuls out of the King's mess.

Supper over, the King invited each one to tell a story, and when it came to the young man's turn, he recounted the whole story of his adventures. Then the King recognised in him the son of his fairest wife, whom, deceived by the lies of her sisters, he had exposed on the staircase. So he instantly ordered the two sisters to be seized and cut to pieces, and he took back his wife. As for the young man, he became his heir. He grew old and prospered.

The points of difference between, and the relative merits of, Galland's story and Straparola's

ITALIAN VERSION,

and whence both were probably obtained, will be considered later on, as several other versions or variants remain to be noticed or cited, before attempting a comparative analysis, not the least interesting of which is a

BRETON VERSION.

In "Melusine," for 1878, colt 206 ff., M. Luzel gives a Breton version, under the title of "Les Trois Filles du Boulanger; ou, L'Eau qui dense, la Pomme qui chante, et l'Oiseau de V⁄rit⁄," which does not appear to have been derived from Galland's story, although it corresponds with it closely in the first part. A prince overhears the conversation of three daughters of an old baker, who is a widower. The eldest says that she loves the king's gardener, the second, that she loves the king's valet, and the youngest says the prince is her love, to whom she would bear two boys, each with a star of gold on his brow, and a girl, with a star of silver. The father chides them for talking nonsense and sends them to bed. The following day the prince sends for the girls to come to the palace one after the other, and having questioned them, tells the youngest that he desires to see her father. When she delivers the royal message the old baker begins to shake in his shoes, and exclaims, "I told you that your frivolous remarks would come to the ears of the prince, and now he sends for me to have me punished, without a doubt." "No, no, dear father; go to the palace and fear nothing." He goes, and, to be brief, the three marriages duly take place. The sisters married to the royal gardener and valet soon become jealous of the young queen, and when they find she is about to become a mother they consult a fairy, who advises them to gain over the midwife and get her to substitute a little dog and throw the child into the river, which is done accordingly, when the first son with the gold star is born. For the second son, a dog is also substituted, and the king, as on the former occasion, says, "God's will be done: take care of the poor creature." But when the little girl with the silver star is smuggled away and the king is shown a third puppy as the queen's offspring, he is enraged. "They'll call me the father of dogs!" he exclaims, "and not without cause." He orders the queen to be shut up in a tower and fed on bread and water. The children are picked up by a gardener, who has a garden close to the river, and brought up by his wife as their own. In course of time the worthy couple die, and the king causes the children to be brought to the palace (how he came to know of them the story-teller does not inform us), and as they were very pretty and had been well brought up, he was greatly pleased with them. Every Sunday they went to grand mass in the church, each having a ribbon on the brow to conceal the stars. All the folk were astonished at their beauty.