Fat Frumos din Lacrima - Mihai Eminescu - Prince Charming of the Tear (ENGLISH)

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PRINCE CHARMING OF THE TEAR

Mihai EMINESCU

Once upon a time, when the humans, as we know them today, were but in the seeds of the future, when God was still walking the stony deserts of the Earth, - once upon a time, there lived a dark emperor, thoughtful as the night itself married to a young empress, smiling as the day at noon. It was fifty years since the emperor was at war with one of his neighbors. The neighbor had died, but he had left his sons and grandsons his hate and blood feud as their inheritance. Fifty years, and the emperor was living alone, like an old lion, weakened by fights and pains. An emperor who had never laughed in his life, who could not smile at a child's innocent song, nor at his young wife’s loving smile, nor at the old, funny stories of the soldiers, aged in battles and needs. He felt weak, he felt he was dying, and he had no one to leave the legacy of his hate. He was sad while getting up from his imperial bed, from beside his young empress - golden bed, but deserted and not blessed-he was sad while going to war, with an untamed heart - and the empress, left alone, was weeping for her solitude with widowhood tears. Her hair, golden as pure gold was falling on her white, rounded breasts – and from her large, blue eyes rivers of watery gems were flowing down her white face, whiter than the silver of the lily flower. Deep dark rings would form under her eyes, and bluish veins would shadow her white skin, as white as living marble. Getting up, she threw herself on the stone steps of a vault in the thick walls, where the icon of the mother of pains, dressed in silver and gold, was watching, on top of a smoky candle. Persuaded by the kneeling empress ’s prayers, the eyelids of the cold icon got wet and a tear ran down from the dark eye of God ’s mother. The empress stood up in all her glory, touched the cold tear with her dry lips and sucked it into the depth of her soul. That was the moment when she got pregnant. A month had passed, then two months, then nine, and the empress gave birth to a son, white as the milk froth, with moon-golden hair. The emperor smiled, the sun smiled too, in its fiery kingdom, it even stayed put, so for three days there was no night, only clear skies and merriment, - wine flowing from the opened barrels and shouts of joy breaking the heavens above. His mother called him “Prince Charming of the Tear And he grew up, he grew tall as the firs of the woods. He was growing in one day as


others in a year. When he was old enough, he had an iron mace forged for him, took the mace and threw it up and up, till he split the skies, caught it back with one finger, and the mace broke in two. Then, he had another, heavier mace forged for him, threw it up and up, near the cloud castle of the moon; when it fell back from the clouds, it did not break on the lad ’s finger. So, Prince Charming took his leave from his parents and started on his way to the neighbor ’s lands, to do battle on his own against the armies of the emperor who was bearing a grudge to his father. On his regal body, he put shepherd clothing, a floss silk shirt woven from his mother ’s tears, a cocky hat with flowers, ribbons and beads torn from the necks of emperors ’ daughters, two flutes in his green girdle, one for melancholy folk songs, the other for Romanian ring dances and, when the sun had just thrown but two sunrays towards the Earth, le left his home for the whole world and his lad’s fate. On his way, he would play the flute and throw up his mace to split the clouds; the mace would fall far away, at a day ’s journey. The valleys and the mountains were amazed when hearing his songs, the rivers were raising their waters to listen to him, the springs were moving their depths to throw out their waves, so as each wave could hear him, so as each one could sing like him, when they were whispering to the valleys and the flowers. The rivers flowing below the dams of the brooding rocks would learn from the shepherd-emperor how to sing the song of love, and the eagles standing silent guard on the dry, gray tops of the high crags would learn from him the crying yell of grief AII of them would stand, amazed and unmoving, while the young shepherd- emperor was passing by, singing and playing his flute; the gals’ dark eyes would fill with tears of longing; and in the breasts of the young shepherds, leaning on a rock and holding a club, a deeper, darker, larger longing was taking seed - the longing for bravery! Everything was staying put but Prince Charming, who kept on walking, following with his song the longing of his heart, and with his eyes the mace twinkling among the clouds and the air, like an iron eagle, like a magic star. Towards the evening of the third day, the falling mace hit a bronze gate, with a long, powerful rumble. The gate shattered and the lad got in. The moon had risen from among the mountains and its image was reflected on the surface of a large, clear lake, as clear as the blue sky. There was golden sand on the bottom, twinkling as pure gold; and in the very middle of the lake, on an emerald island, surrounded by a grove of green, fluffy trees, a proud palace was built, made of milky-white, sparkling marble - so sparkling that the walls reflected, like a silver mirror, the copse, the everglade, the shores, the lake itself. A golden boat was floating lazily on the clear surface of the lake, by the gate; in the scented evening air, serene songs were waving from the castle. Prince Charming got into the boat and roamed; soon, he reached the marble steps of the palace and got in. In the vaults of the staircase, he could see chandeliers with a hundred arms, each arm holding a star of fire. He got into the hall. This


hall was high, leaning on pillars and vaults, all of them made of gold; in its very middle, there was a richly laid table, covered with a white tablecloth, and each of the dishes on it had been carved from a single huge gem. The nobles dressed in golden clothes who were sitting at table, on chairs of red velvet, were as handsome as the days of youth and as merry as dancing girls. One among them was especially handsome, with his forehead encircled in a gold and diamond crown, dressed in bright clothes, he was as handsome as a summer night moon. But Prince Charming was even more handsome. “Welcome, Prince Charming!” the Emperor said, I’ve heard about you, but I haven ’t met you before.” “Welcome, Emperor, though I’m afraid you won’t feel too well after I’ve finished with you; I’m here to fight you, because your treachery against my father is long due.” “I’ve never betrayed your father, I’ve always fought fair and square. But I won’t fight you. I’d rather tell the minstrels to play and the wine-pourers to fill the cups with wine and we ’ll swear to be sworn-brothers till death do us part. So, the two sons of emperors kissed each other, drank and talked, and the nobles cheered. “Who scares you most in this world?” the Emperor asked Prince Charming. “I’m afraid of no one in this world but God. What about you?” “I’m afraid of no one but God and the Woods ’Mother, an ugly harridan, who walks my kingdom hand-in hand with the tempest. Where she passes, the land gets dry, the villages get scattered in the winds, the towns fall in ruins. I have tried to defeat her many a times, but in vain. To make her spare part of my kingdom, I had to deal with her and give her as tribute every tenth child from among my subjects’ children. She ’ll be here today to grab her tribute.” When the clock struck midnight, the faces of the guests got long and gloomy: the mad Woods ’Mother was yelling, riding the night through the grayish air with wings of winds, her face wrinkled like a mossy rock carved by innumerable springs, a forest instead of hair Her eyes - two troubled nights, her mouth - an open abyss, her teeth - rows of millstones. As she was coming rumbling, Prince Charming grabbed her by the waist and, with all his strength, dumped her into a large, stony felting mill; over the felting mill, he pushed a large chunk of rock, which he tied all around with seven iron chains. Inside, the harridan was fighting and whistling like imprisoned wind- but to no avail. Then, he sat back to table; that very moment, through the arches of the Windows, the amazed guests could see, in the light of the moon, two lengthy hills of water. What was it? The Woods’ Mother, unable to escape, was Crossing the lake, felting mill and all, drawing two long hill-like furrows across its surface. She kept on running, a bedeviled stony rock, opening her way across woods, furrowing the land, until she got lost in the depths of the night.


For a time, Prince Charming kept on feasting with the other guests, but then, mace on shoulder, he followed the trail left by the felting mill until he reached a white, nice house, sparkling in the moon light, in the muddle of a flower garden. The flowers were growing on green flowerbeds, gleaming blue, dark red and white flowers, and light butterflies were swarming among them, shining like golden stars. Scent, light and a slow, sweet, infinite tune born out of the swarming of bees and butterflies permeated the garden and the house. By the patio, there were two barrels with water - and sitting on the patio, a beautiful girl was spinning. Her long, white gown seemed a cloud of rays and shadows, her long, golden hair was woven into tresses flowing down her back, and a wreath covered in gems was lying on her smooth forehead. Bathed in the moon rays, she seemed soaked in golden air. Her fingers, as white as wax, were spinning a golden distaff, and, from a bundle of silvered wool, she was spinning a white, thin, bright silken thread, more like a living moon ray wandering through the air than a woolen-thread. When she heard Prince Charming s light steps, the girl raised her blue eyes, as blue as the waves of the lake. “Welcome, Prince Charming”, she said, with her clear eyes half closed, “It has been ages since I dreamt about you! While my fingers were spinning a thread, my thoughts were weaving a dream, a beautiful dream, about us making love; Prince Charming, I was spinning a silvered wool bundle and I was about to weave a coat warped of spells and happiness for you to wear...and to love me. Of my wool bundle, I would weave a coat for you, of my days, I would weave a life full of delights And thus, watching him humbly, the girl let the spindle fall and the distaff fell besides. She rose and- as if she were ashamed of what she had just said-she let her hands hang down limply by her body, as a guilty child would do, and her large eyes were looking at the ground. He reached her, one hand embracing her waist, the other slowly caressing her hair and forehead, and whispered: “You are so beautiful, so dear to me. Whose daughter are you, gal?” “I’m the Woods ’Mother’s daughter”, she answered, sighing. “Will you still love me, now that you know who I am?” She put both her naked arms around his neck and looked into his eyes longingly. “I don’t care whose daughter you are”, he answered, “I love you and that ’s that” ‘‘If you love me, let’s elope”, she murmured, holding him even tighter and leaning her head on his chest, “If mother were to find you here, she would kill you, and if you died I would lose my mind or die, too.” “Don’t worry”, he answered with a smile, untying her arms from around his neck, “Where’s your mother?” “Since she came back, she’s been struggling inside that felting mill you ’ve locked her


into, gnawing with her fangs at the chains keeping her prisoner.” “No matter”, he said, rushing to see where the harridan was. “Prince Charming”, the girl said, and two large tears sparkled in her eyes. “Don’t go yet. Let me teach you first what you must do to beat mother. Can you see those two barrels? One is filled with water, the other with strength. Let’s switch them. Mother, when she fights her enemies and gets tired, shouts: ” Wait, wait, let ’s have a drink of water! ” Then she drinks strength, while her enemy drinks clear water. That’s why we’ll switch the barrels, she won ’t know and she ’ll drink clear water while fighting you.” Said and done. He rushed behind the house. “What are you doing here, harridan?”, he yelled. The harridan viciously tore herself out of the felting mill, breaking the chains, stretching herself, thin and tall, almost touching the clouds. “Ahh! Welcome, Prince Charming!”, she said, gathering herself back to normal height. “Let ’s fight, let ’s see who ’s stronger!” “Let’s!”, answered Prince Charming. The harridan grabbed him by the waist, lengthened herself, rushing him up to the clouds, then hurled him towards the ground and buried him up to his ankles. Prince Charming hit her and buried her into the ground up to her knees. “Wait, wait, let’s have a drink of water”, the Woods’ Mother said, tired. So they took their time, breathed deeply. The harridan drank water, Prince Charming drank strength, and a sort of an unquenchable fire shook his insides, with thrills of coolness along each and every of his weakened muscles and veins. With doubled strength, with iron arms, he grabbed the harridan by the waist and buried her into the ground up to her neck. Then, he smashed her head with his mace and scattered her brains around. The sky grew gray with threatening clouds, the wind started moaning coldly, shaking the little house from all its joints. Red snakes broke the dark tissue of the clouds, hurling thunderbolts, the waters seemed to bark, only the thunder was singing deeply, like a prophet of doom. In the thick, unbreakable darkness, Prince Charming could see a silver, pale shadow, wandering with her disheveled hair floating in the wind, her hands raised towards the skies. He reached for her and embraced her. Terrorized, she almost fainted, leaning on his chest, hiding her cold hands inside his breast. He kissed her eyes to wake her. The clouds were splitting into huge patches on the sky, the moon, red as fire, was peeping through the scattered clouds. Next to his heart, Prince Charming could see two blue, clear amazed stars growing—the eyes of his bride. He took her in his arms and started running in the storm, carrying her. He had leaned her head on his shoulder and seemed asleep. Reaching the Emperor s garden, he sat her in the boat and carried her across the lake as in a cradle; then he picked grass and hay smelling of flowers and built her a bed, where he


carefully laid her down, as in a nest. The sun, slowly rising, was watching them lovingly. Her rain-wet clothes were stuck to her sweet, rounded forms, her face, wet and pallid as white wax, her small hands crossed across her breasts, her disheveled hair spread on the hay, her large eyes, closed and sunken, she was beautiful, but she seemed dead. On her smooth, white forehead, Prince Charming laid a few blue flowers, then he sat down next to her and started to play the flute softly. The clear sky -just like a sea, the bright sun - a face of fire, the rainfreshened grasses, the wet scent of the flowers made her sleep long and well, accompanied in the world of her dreams by the melancholic tune of the flute. When the sun got up in the sky, Nature kept quiet while Prince Charming was listening to her wet, calm, warm breathing. Slowly, he leaned over her sleeping form and kissed her cheek. She opened her eyes, still full of dreams, stretching sleepily, and, smiling softly, said: “Are you here? ” “I’m not here, can you see that I’m not here ?!”, he answered, shedding a few tears of happiness. As he was sitting by her, she extended her arm and held him by the waist. “Come on, up!”, he said, caressing her, “It’s noon already. ” She got up, smoothed her hair on her forehead, pushed it behind her ears; he held her by the waist - she put her arms around his neck - and thus, holding each other, they passed between the flowerbeds and got into the Emperor ’s marble palace. He presented her to the Emperor, telling him that she was his bride. The Emperor smiled, then took Prince Charming by the hand, as though he wanted to tell him something in secret, and led him towards a large window looking down on the lake. But he didn’t tell him anything, he just stared across the bright lake, amazed, and his eyes filled with tears. A swan had raised its wings, like silver sails and, its head sunk into the water, it was splitting the serene surface of the lake. “You are crying, Emperor” said Prince Charming, “Why?” ‘‘Prince Charming”, the Emperor answered, “What you did for me can ’t be repaid, not even with my eyesight, no matter how dear it is to me, but, in spite of this, I must ask for more. ” ‘‘For what, Emperor? ” ‘‘Can you see that swan there, so much loved by the waves? I’m young, so I should love life, but I can ’t remember how many times I wanted to put an end to it! I’m in Love with a charming girl, with thoughtful eyes, as sweet as the dreams of the sea - the Hunter ’s daughter; the Hunter is a proud, wild man, who spends his life hunting in old woods. How harsh he is, and how beautiful his daughter! Any attempt to snatch her has proved in vain. Will you try?” Prince Charming would have preferred to stay put and enjoy his new love, but swornbrotherhood was more important to him than life itself, more precious than his very bride,


as it is with any brave hero. “Enlightened Emperor, you ’ve enjoyed many opportunities in your life, but the greatest one is that Prince Charming is your sworn-brother. I’ll go and snatch the Hunter ’s daughter! ” So he took fast horses, with souls of wind, and was ready to leave. Then his bride - her name was Ellen - kissed him sweetly, whispering into his ear: ‘‘Prince Charming, don’t forget, as long as you are away, I’ll keep on crying. ” He looked at her with compassion in his eyes, caressed her - but then, disengaging himself from her embrace, he jumped on his horse and gone he was... He crossed deserted forests, mountains with their peaks covered in snow, and, when the moon as pallid as the face of a dead girl was rising from behind old rocks, he would glimpse, from time to time, a huge rag hanging from the sky, surrounding the peak of a mountain with its train - a shattered night, a ruined past, an ancient castle, where only stones and broken walls were left. When dawn came, Prince Charming could see that the mountain chain ended in a large, green sea, alive with thousand of serene, bright waves, traveling the surface of the sea, slowly and melodiously, as far as the eye could see, as far as the sight could lose itself into the blue of the sky and the green of the sea. At the very end of the mountain chain, right next to the sea, mirroring itself in its waters, there was a huge granite rock, on top of which a handsome citadel resembling a white nest had been built. It was so white, it seemed polished in silver. The arched walls were pierced by large Windows, and, framed in an open window, among flower pots, a girl’s dark, thoughtful face, as calm as a summer night, could be glimpsed. She was the Hunter’s daughter. “Welcome, Prince Charming”, she said, jumping away from the window and opening the gates of the great castle, where she lived alone, as lonely as a prophet in the desert, ”Last night, it seemed as though I was talking to a star, and the star told me you would come in the stead of the Emperor who loves me. ” In the great hall of the castle, besides the ashes of the hearth, a seven-headed tomcat was staying guard; when it mewed with one of its seven mouths, its mewing could be heard one day s journey away, and when it mewed with all its seven mouths, it could be heard seven days ’ journey away. The Hunter, lost in his wild hunting, had been traveling for a single day. Prince Charming took the girl in his arms and jumped on his horse; they were both flying across the desert, along the sea, like two hardly glimpsed shadows of the air. But the Hunter, a tall, strong man, owned a magic, two-hearted horse. The tomcat in the castle mewed with one mouth, and the Hunter ’s horse neighed in a bronze-loud voice. “What ’s wrong? ”, the Hunter asked his magic horse, “Are you tired of life, or what? ”


‘Tt’s not me who ’s tired of life, it’s you I’m worried about. Prince Charming has just kidnapped your daughter.” “Do we have to hurry to catch them?” “We do, but not too much, we can catch them easily.” The Hunter jumped on the horse ’s back and they flew like an old terror, following the fugitives’ trail. Soon, they reached them. The Hunter couldn’t fight Prince Charming, because he was a Christian and his power came from God, not from the spirits of the dark. “Prince Charming”, the Hunter said, “Handsome you are and much I pity you. I won ’t hurt you this time, but next time...watch out!” He grabbed his daughter and they left with the wind, as though they had never been there. But prince Charming was a brave man and he knew the way back to the castle. So he rode back and, once again, he found the girl alone, in tears, even more pallid than before, even more beautiful. The Hunter was hunting, at two days ’journey away from home. Prince Charming got fresh horses from the Hunter ’s very stable. This time, they left by night. They were running as fast as the moon rays across the deep waves of the sea, they were running in the deserted, cold night like two cherished dreams; while running, they could hear the long and desperate mewling of the tomcat besides the hearth of the castle. Then, it seemed as though they couldn’t move any longer, like when you try to run in your dreams, but can ’t move your feet. Then, a cloud of dust covered both of them - the Hunter was coming, riding his magic horse as fast as he could. His face was terrifying, his look - a cutting knife. Without saying anything, he grabbed Prince Charming and threw him into the dark, stormy clouds of the sky. Then, gone they were, both he and his daughter. The lightning burned Prince Charming - nothing but a few ashes fell to the ground, scattering on the hot, dry sand of the desert. But, out of his ashes, a clear river sprang, flowing across the diamond sand; on the banks of the river, tall, green, majestic trees spread cool, scented shadow. Had someone understood the voice of the river, they would have heard it was mourning for Ellen, Prince Charming ’s fair empress. But there was no one there to hear, in that desert where no creature had walked or crawled, for ages and ages. In those times, God was still walking the Earth. So, one day, two people were traveling across the desert. The face and clothes of the first one were shining brightly in the sunlight; the second one, more humble, seemed but the shadow of the first. They were God and Saint Peter. Their feet, hot from the dryness of the desert sand, walked into the coolness of the clear river. Through the translucence of the water, their ankles split the waves up to the shaded source of the river. There, God stopped and drank and washed His holy, enlightened face and His miracle- making hands. Then both of them sat down in the shade, and God started thinking about His Father in the skies, while Saint Peter was listening to the slow melody of the lamenting spring. When they got up to continue their


journey, Saint Peter said: “God, make this spring become again what it was before.” “Amen!", God replied, and raised His holy hand, then they left towards the sea, without looking back. Magically, the spring and the trees disappeared, and Prince Charming, as if awakening from a long dream, looked around. He saw God’s lighted figure, walking the waves of the sea, and the waves were bowing before Him, just like all the creatures on dry land; he saw Saint Peter following behind and, defeated by his human nature, looking back and nodding to Prince Charming. Prince Charming kept on staring at them until Saint Peter s figure got lost in the distance and only God’s bright face could still be seen, throwing a stripe of light on the gleaming surface of the water, making the noon sun look as though it was setting. Finally, he understood the miracle of his redemption and resurrection, and knelt towards the setting of the godly sun. But then, he remembered he had promised to snatch the Hunter ’s daughter, and what a brave man promises is what a brave man does. So he started on his journey once again, and, towards evening, he reached the Hunter ’s castle, which was shining like a huge shadow in the velvety dark of the evening. He entered the castle...and found the Hunter ’s daughter, crying. But, when she saw him, her face cleared as a water wave clears under the light of a moon ray. He told her how he had been brought back to life, and she said: “You can ’t snatch me unless you have a horse just like my father ’s, because that horse has two hearts; but, tonight, i’ll ask him where he has got the horse, and thus you ’ll get one of the same kind. For now, so as my father won ’t know you are here, FII turn you into a flower. ” He sat down on a chair, and she whispered a sweet spell, kissed him on the forehead and turned him into a dark-red flower, as dark as a ripe sour cherry. She put the flower on the windowsill, among the other flowers there, singing merrily as a skylark in the morning, making the entire castle echo with her merriment. Then the Hunter arrived home. “Are you happy, my daughter? Why are you so happy, if I may ask? ”, he said. “I’m happy because Prince Charming is no more, to snatch me!”, she answered, laughing. They sat to supper. “Father ”, she asked, “Where did you get that horse of yours, the one you ride while hunting? ” “ Why do you want to know? ”, he replied, knitting his eyebrows. “You must realize I just want to know it for my peace of mind”, the girl answered, “Anyway, Prince Charming isn’t around any longer to snatch me. ” “You know I can ’t resist you, ever the Hunter said. “Far away from here, by the sea, a


harridan lives, owner of seven mares. She hires people for no more than a year (though her year is but three days long), to guard the mares; if the hired hand proves worthy of her trust, she allows him to choose a calf as payment; if not, she kills him and puts his head on top a stake. Sometimes, even though the servant has guarded the mares well, she tries to cheat him of his reward: she empties all the calves but one of their hearts, puts all the hearts inside the chosen one, and the servant ends up with a heartless calf most of the times, which is even worse than an ordinary calf... Satisfied? ” “More than satisfied”, she answered, smiling. At the same moment, the Hunter threw a red, light, scented handkerchief over her face. The girl looked long and hard into her father ’s eyes, as someone does who wakes up from a dream which they can’t remember. She had forgotten everything her father had told her. But the flower on the windowsill was paying attention among its leaves, like a red star among the creases of a cloud. The next day, early in the morning, the Hunter left home for his hunting. The girl kissed the flower, murmuring a chant, and Prince Charming appeared in front of her, out of the blue sky. “Well, what have you found out?” he asked her. “Nothing” she replied sadly, putting the back of her hand on her forehead. “I’ve forgotten everything...” “But I ’ve heard all of it” he said. “Farewell, dear girl; soon, we ’ll meet again.” He jumped on his horse and faded into the distance. In the burning heat of the summer day, by the woods, he saw a mosquito struggling in the hot sands. “Prince Charming,” the mosquito begged “Help me reach the woods and I’ll repay you, sooner or later. I’m the king of mosquitoes.” The kind-hearted Prince Charming took the mosquito as far as the woods he was to cross. After Crossing the woods, he reached another desert, along the sea, and there he saw a crayfish, so badly burnt by the sunrays, that it didn’t even have the strength to crawl back to the sea... “Prince Charming,” the crayfish begged, “Throw me back into the sea and I’ll make your effort worthwhile one of these days. I’m the king of crayfish!” The well-meaning Prince Charming threw it into the sea and continued on his way. Towards evening, he reached an ugly hovel, covered in horse manure. There was no fence around it, just some high, pointed stakes, and six of them were crowned with a cut-off head each, but the seventh, which was empty, was shaking in the wind, shouting: “Head! Head! Head! ”. On the porch, an old, wrinkled hag was lying on a worn winter coat, with her ash-gray


head in the lap of a young, beautiful slave, who was looking for lice in her hair. “Welcome! ” said Prince Charming. “Welcome, lad!”, the hag croaked, rising. “Why have you come here? What do you want? Do you maybe want to look after my mares? ” “That ’s exactly what I want. ” “My mares graze by night only...Look here, you might as well start right now...Hey, girl! Give this lad the food I’ve prepared for him and show him the way. ” By the hovel, dug into the ground, there was a cellar. He entered it and saw seven black, shiny mares, dark as seven nights, which had never seen the daylight since the day they were born. They neighed, stomping their long legs. Because he hadn’t eaten anything since morning, he finished all the food the hag had prepared, then mounted one of the mares, and led the others through the cool, dark air of the night. He could feel a leaden slumber surreptitiously taking over his mind and body, his eyes closed as though covered in spider webs, and he fell, heavy as a log, on the grassy meadow floor. He woke up when dawn came. But - no trace of the mares! He could already see his head on a stake, when he noticed the seven mares, far away in the woods, galloping towards him, chased by a huge swarm of mosquitoes, and a thin voice said by his ear: “You did me a favor once, now it’s been my turn ” When he got back with the horses, the hag got raving mad with fury, and started turning the whole house upside down and beating the girl, who had no fault whatsoever in the matter. “What ’s wrong, lady? ” Prince Charming asked. “Nothing, nothing at all... ” she answered. ”I’m in a blue mood, that’s all. You’ve performed faultlessly...I’m quite pleased. ” Then, entering the stable, she started beating the mares, yelling: “Next time, hide yourselves better, damn you; don ’t let him find you again, confound him!” The next evening, he took the horses to graze once again, but, exactly as the night before, he fell asleep and didn’t awake until the breaking of dawn. No trace of the mares... Depressed and desperate, he felt like letting the whole matter go and running as far and fast as he could, when suddenly he saw the seven horses coming out from the depths of the sea, chased and bitten by a multitude of crayfish. “You did me a favor once” a small voice told him, ”Now, I’ve repaid it”. It was the king of crayfish. He led the horses back home and suffered the same tantrums as the previous day. That day, the hag ’s slave cornered him and, holding his hand, whispered into his ear:


“I know you are Prince Charming. Don ’t eat the food the hag is cooking for you, it’s mixed with sleep-root. I’ll cook for you myself. ” Surreptitiously, the girl cooked him some food and, towards evening, when he was about to leave with the horses, he felt fit as a fiddle. At about midnight, he returned home and led the horses into the stable, locked them up for the rest of the night and entered the hovel. A few coals were still glimmering on the hearth, among gray ashes. The hag was lying of the bed, as stiff as death itself. He thought she was dead and started shaking her, but she was stiff as a log and wouldn’t move a finger. So, he woke up the girl, who had been sleeping by the hearth. “Look!” he said, “Your hag is dead”. “Come, come, she wouldn’t do that! ” the gal answered, sighing. It’s true that now she looks dead. It’s midnight ...it’s when a deep slumber envelop her entire body...but her soul...only God knows where it wanders, what crossroads it stalks, what witchcraft it deals with. Till the cock ’s first crow, she sucks the hearts of the dying or empties the soul of some miserable wretch. But tomorrow, sir, your year of service is over; will you take me with you when you leave? I might be of great service to you, I might save you from the many traps the hag is getting ready for you. ” From the bottom of an old, damaged chest, she took a knife, a brush and a scarf. The next morning, Prince Charming ’s year of service was over. The hag was supposed to give him one of the calves and let him go his way in one piece. While they were having lunch, the hag went to the stables, pulled the hearts out of all the horses and put them inside a thin crock, so skinny one could count its ribs. Prince Charming finished his food and, at the hag ’s urge, made for the stables to choose his horse. The heartless horses were shiny and black, while the crock full of hearts was lying in a corner, on a heap of manure. ”That’s the one I want ” Prince Charming said, pointing towards the skinny crock in the corner. “Gracious God, have you been a servant for nothing?” the sly hag said. “You must have your much-deserved payment. Choose one of these handsome horses - no matter which, it will be yours. ” “No, thank you, that’s the one I want” Prince Charming replied, standing his ground. The hag ground her teeth as crazy, but then she shut her big, toothy mouth, to prevent the venom from leaking out of her dark, troubled heart. “Take it then! ” she finally agreed. He mounted the crock, mace on shoulder. It seemed that the very face of the desert was on his trail; he was flying like a fleeting thought, like a hurricane, through the whirls of sand, leaving them behind. In the woods, the runaway girl was waiting for him. He sat her behind him, on the horse ’s back, and kept riding on.


The night had flooded the earth with its darkest, coolest air. “My back is hot ” the girl complained. Prince Charming looked back. From the inside of a huge, green whirlwind, two amber eyes were staring them, now moving, and their fire-red rays had pierced the girl ’s back. “Throw the brush ” the girl shouted. Prince Charming complied. Suddenly, behind them, a large, dark, thick forest grew, resounding with long- lasting rustle of leaves and howls of hungry wolves. “Forward!” Prince Charming ordered the horse, which was flying like a demon pursued by curses, in the dark fog of the night. The pallid moon was Crossing the sky among the gray clouds, like a serene face surrounded by troubled, dried dreams. And Prince Charming was flying...floating...unstoppably. “My back is hotter” the girl moaned, frightened, as though she had been suffering the pain for a long time before trusting herself to complain. Prince Charming looked back and saw a huge, gray owl, dark except its bright, red eyes, shining like two lightning bolts chained to a cloud. “Throw the knife! ” the girl yelled. Prince Charming complied. Suddenly, from the ground, a giant rose, carved in stone like fright itself a gray rock, straight, unmoving, his head touching the clouds. Prince Charming was riding through the air so fast, it didn’t feel like riding at all, it felt like falling from the heights of the skies into an invisible abyss. “My back is even hotter ”, the girl cried. The hag had pierced a tunnel into the rock and was crawling through, turned into a rope of smoke whose front end was burning like a piece of coal. “Throw the scarf! ” the girl yelled. And Prince Charming complied once again. Suddenly, behind them, they could see a clear, deep, large lake, and in its fair, shiny surface the silver moon and the stars of fire mirrored themselves, bathing in its depth. Prince Charming could hear a loud curse in the air, and looked up through the clouds. Lost in the heights of the sky, huge and threatening, the bronze-winged darkness of night was drifting slowly, so very slowly. While the hag was swimming like mad in the middle of the white lake, Prince Charming threw his mace towards the clouds and hit the darkness of night in the wings. It fell heavily towards the waves, pitifully crowing twelve times. The moon hid behind a cloud and the hag, falling asleep, plunged into the spellbound, unknown depths of the lake. From the depths, a long, dark weed grew: it was the hag s cursed soul. “We are safe now! ” the girl whispered. “Yes, we are! ” the seven-hearted horse agreed. “Master, you’ve hit and felled the darkness of night two hours earlier than usual, and I can feel the sand shaking


under my hooves. The skeletons buried in the hot sand whirlwinds of the desert will rise and climb to the moon, to at- tend their feasts. It’s dangerous to be outdoors right now. The cold, venomous air of their dead souls might kill you. You ’d better go to sleep, and, meanwhile, I’ll go back to my mother to suck the white-flamed milk of her breasts once more, to become handsome and shiny again. Prince Charming agreed. He dismounted and laid his cloak on the still warm sand. But, how strange ...the girl s eyes had sunken into her head, her bones and the joints of her face had stood out, her golden skin had turned a deadly bluish-gray, her hand as heavy as lead, as cold as ice. “What’s wrong with you? ” Prince Charming asked her. “Nothing, there ’s nothing wrong with me ” she answered in a weak voice. And she lay down on the sand, shaking horribly. Prince Charming let the horse go, then he also lay down on the cloak and fell asleep. But, in a way, he wasn’t really asleep. His eyelids, covering the light of his eyes, had turned as red as fire, and through them, he thought he could see the moon slowly climbing down towards the ground, getting larger and larger, until it seemed a holy, silver fortress hanging from the sky, brightly quivering...with tall, proud palaces... with thousands of rosy Windows; from the moon, a royal path, paved with silver pebbles, beaten in ray powder, led down to the ground. AU over the wide desert, tall skeletons were rising from the sands...dried heads on dried bones...shrouded in long, white cloaks, woven in silver thread; through the cloaks, one could see the dried, whitened bones. On their heads, they were wearing crowns made of ray thread and long, golden thorns...riding skeleton horses, they were slowly moving...in long rows... moving stripes of silver shadows... they were climbing the path of the moon, losing themselves inside the marble palaces of the moon fortress, whose rosy Windows let pass a moon tune... a dream melody. Then he thought that the girl beside him was rising slowly, too... that her body was dissipating in the air, leaving nothing but the bones... that, wrapped in a silver cloak, she, too, was taking the lighted path leading to the moon. She was going back to the troubled kingdom of the shadows, from where she had returned to earth, lured by the hag’s spells. Then his eyelids turned green, then black...and he couldn’t see anything else. When he opened his eyes, the sun was up in the sky and the girl was really missing. But, on the dry sand, his horse was neighing, his handsome, shiny horse, drunk with the sun ’s golden light, which it could see for the first time in its life. Prince Charming mounted hurriedly, and, a few heartbeats later, he reached the Hunter’s castle. This time, the Hunter was hunting at a seven- day distance away from home. He sat the Hunter ’s daughter on the horse in front of him, and she put her arms around his neck, hiding her face at his breast; the long train of her white gown was trailing on the sand of the desert. They were riding so fast that the desert and the waves of the sea seemed to run beneath them, while they were standing still. Far behind, they could hear the


tomcat softly mewing, with all its seven mouths. Somewhere in the woods, the Hunter could hear its horse neighing. “What ’s wrong?” he asked “Prince Charming is stealing your daughter” the magic horse answered. “Can we catch them? ” the Hunter asked, amazed, because he knew he had killed Prince Charming. “We can’t ” the horse replied, “Because he is riding one of my brothers which has seven hearts, and I have only two ”. The Hunter thrust his spurs deeply into the flanks of his horse, which was running, quivering like a storm. When he saw Prince Charming in the desert, he told his horse: “Tell your brother to throw its master to the ground and come to me, and I’ll feed it nut meat, and I’ll let it drink sweet milk”. The Hunter ’s horse neighed its brother what the Hunter had promised, but the brother told everything to Prince Charming. “Tell your brother” Prince Charming replied “That, if it throws its master up to the clouds, I’ll feed him embers and I’ll let it drink fire flames”. Prince Charming ’s horse neighed the message to its brother, and the Hunter ’s horse threw its master up to the clouds. The clouds of the sky turned into a gray marble palace and from beneath two cloudy eyebrows, two sky-blue eyes were throwing long lightning bolts. They were the Hunter ’s eyes, exiled in the kingdom of the air. Prince Charming slowed the pace of his horse and sat the girl on her father ’s horse. Another day - and they reached the Emperor ’s proud citadel. Everybody thought Prince Charming dead, and, when the news of his arrival spread around, the day melted its air in the light of celebration and the people were waiting, murmuring about his famous return, like a wheat field under the breath of the wind. But what had Ellen, the empress, been doing all this time? As soon as Prince Charming had left, she shut herself in a garden surrounded by high iron walls, and there, lying on the cold stones, her head on a quartz rock, she kept on crying, letting her diamond-clear tears fall into a golden bowl, placed next to her prostrated form. In the garden with many flower beds, not watered and not visited by anybody, pale flowers with yellow leaves had grown, from the barren ground, from the heat of the day, from the dryness of the night; pallid flowers, as troubled as the troubled eyes of the dead, the flowers of pain. The empress ’s eyes, blinded by so much crying, could see nothing; only the image of her dear bride groom, as an afterthought, in the mirror of the bowl full of her tears. Her eyes, two dried springs, had stopped shedding tears. If someone could see her, with her long, golden hair unbraided and let down like the creases of a golden cloak on her cold breast, if someone could see her face, carved by silent pain as if by a chisel, that someone would have


thought she was a marble fairy of the waves, lying on a grave of pebbles. But, as soon as she heard about his return, her face cleared; she took a handful of tears from the bowl and watered the garden. As by magic, the yellow leaves of the trees bordering the garden paths and of the flowers on the flower beds turned as green as emerald. The sad, troubled flowers turned as white as bright diamonds, and, from the baptism of tears, they got the name of “lilies-of -the-valley ”. The white, blind empress was slowly walking along the flower beds, picking a lot of lilies; she laid them down by the bowl, making a bed of flowers. Right then, Prince Charming entered the garden. She threw her arms round his neck but, silenced by joy, she couldn’t but stare at him with her blind, dried eyes, though she would have liked to suck him into her soul. Then, she took him by the hand and led him to the bowl filled with tears. The clear moon was smiling like a golden face on the deep, dark blue of the sky. Prince Charming washed her face in the tear bath; then, covering himself with the cloak she had woven for him with moon rays, he lay down to sleep on the bed of flowers. The empress lay down beside him, and dreamed that the Virgin Mother had picked two gray-blue morning stars from the sky and laid them on her forehead. The next morning, when she awaked, she could see again... The third day, the Emperor married the Hunter ’s daughter. The fourth day was to be Prince Charming s wedding day. A swarm of rays coming from the sky told the minstrels how the angels would sing when a saint was sanctified. Swarms of waves from the heart of the earth told them how the Fates would sing when they preordained people ’s good. Thus, the minstrels could sing marvelous songs and well-wishing tunes from the heart. The fiery rose, the silver lilies, the diamond-gray lilies-of-the-valley, the shy violets, all the flowers gathered together and talked, each with its scent, about how the lights on the bridal gown should be. Later, they told the secret to a polite butterfly, blue and goldenspotted. The butterfly flew round and round over the bride s face, while she was asleep, and made her see, as in a mirror-dream, the way she should be dressed. She smiled when she dreamed about such a beautiful bride - herself. The bridegroom put on a shirt made of moon rays, a belt beaten in diamonds, a snowwhite cloak. Their wedding was beautiful, as no wedding had ever been before. They lived happily ever after, in peace and harmony, for years and years, and, if what people say were true, meaning that, for Prince Charming and his kind time is meaningless, they might still be alive today.


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