The Faithful Prince

Long ago there lived a King who had an only son, by name Prince

Bahrâmgor, who was as splendid as the noonday sun, and as beautiful as

the midnight moon. Now one day the Prince went a-hunting, and he

hunted to the north, but found no game; he hunted to the south, yet no

quarry arose; he hunted to the east, and still found nothing. Then he

turned towards the setting sun, when suddenly from a thicket flashed a

golden deer. Burnished gold were its hoofs and horns, rich gold its

body. Dazzled by the wonderful sight, the astonished Prince bade his

retainers form a circle round the beautiful strange creature, and so

gradually enclose and secure it.

'Remember,' said the Prince, 'I hold him towards whom the deer may run

to be responsible for its escape, or capture.'

Closer and closer drew the glittering circle of horsemen, while in the

centre stood the golden deer, until, with marvellous speed, it fled

straight towards the Prince, But he was swifter still, and caught it

by the golden horns. Then the creature found human voice, and cried,

'Let me go, oh! Prince Bahrâmgor and I will give you countless

treasures!'

But the Prince laughed, saying, 'Not so! I have gold and jewels

galore, but never a golden deer.'

'Let me go,' pleaded the deer, 'and I will give you more than

treasures!'

'And what may that be?' asked the Prince, still laughing.

'I will give you a ride on my back such as never mortal man rode

before,' replied the deer.

'Done!' cried the gay Prince, vaulting lightly to the deer's back; and

immediately, like a bird from a thicket, the strange glittering

creature rose through the air till it was lost to sight. For seven

days and seven nights it carried the Prince over all the world, so

that he could see everything like a picture passing below, and on the

evening of the seventh day it touched the earth once more, and

instantly vanished. Prince Bahrâmgor rubbed his eyes in bewilderment,

for he had never been in such a strange country before. Everything

seemed new and unfamiliar. He wandered about for some time looking

for the trace of a house or a footprint, when suddenly from the ground

at his feet popped a wee old man.

'How did you come here? and what are you looking for, my son?' quoth

he politely.

So Prince Bahrâmgor told him how he had ridden thither on a golden

deer, which had disappeared, and how he was now quite lost and

bewildered in this strange country.

'Do not be alarmed, my son,' returned the wee old man; 'it is true you

are in Demonsland, but no one shall hurt you, for I am the demon

Jasdrûl whose life you saved when I was on the earth in the shape of a

golden deer.'

Then the demon Jasdrûl took Prince Bahrâmgor to his house, and treated

him right royally, giving him a hundred keys, and saying, 'These are

the keys of my palaces and gardens. Amuse yourself by looking at

them, and mayhap somewhere you may find a treasure worth having.'

So every day Prince Bahrâmgor opened a new garden, and examined a new

palace, and in one he found rooms full of gold, and in another jewels,

and in a third rich stuffs, in fact everything the heart could desire,

until he came to the hundredth palace, and that he found was a mere

hovel, full of all poisonous things, herbs, stones, snakes, and

insects. But the garden in which it stood was by far the most

magnificent of all. It was seven miles this way, and seven miles

that, full of tall trees and bright flowers, lakes, streams,

fountains, and summer-houses. Gay butterflies flitted about, and

birds sang in it all day and all night. The Prince, enchanted,

wandered seven miles this way, and seven miles that, until he was so

tired that he lay down to rest in a marble summer-house, where he

found a golden bed, all spread with silken shawls. Now while he

slept, the Fairy Princess Shâhpasand, who was taking the air,

fairy-fashion, in the shape of a pigeon, happened to fly over the

garden, and catching sight of the beautiful, splendid, handsome young

Prince, she sank to earth in sheer astonishment at beholding such a

lovely sight, and, resuming her natural shape--as fairies always do

when they touch the ground--she stooped over the young man and gave

him a kiss.

He woke up in a hurry, and what was his astonishment on seeing the

most beautiful Princess in the world kneeling gracefully beside him!

'Dearest Prince!' cried the maiden, clasping her hands,'I have been

looking for you everywhere!'

Now the very same thing befell Prince Bahrâmgor that had happened to

the Princess Shâhpasand--that is to say, no sooner did he set eyes on

her than he fell desperately in love, and so, of course, they agreed

to get married without any delay. Nevertheless, the Prince thought it

best first to consult his host, the demon Jasdrûl, seeing how powerful

he was in Demonsland. To the young man's delight, the demon not only

gave his consent, but appeared greatly pleased, rubbing his hands and

saying, 'Now you will remain with me and be so happy that you will

never think of returning to your own country any more.'

So Prince Bahrâmgor and the Fairy Princess Shâhpasand were married,

and lived ever so happily, for ever so long a time.

At last the thought of the home he had left came back to the Prince,

and he began to think longingly of his father the King, his mother the

Queen, and of his favourite horse and hound. Then from thinking of

them he fell to speaking of them to the Princess, his wife, and then

from speaking he took to sighing and sighing and refusing his dinner,

until he became quite pale and thin. Now the demon Jasdrûl used to

sit every night in a little echoing room below the Prince and

Princess's chamber, and listen to what they said, so as to be sure

they were happy; and when he heard the Prince talking of his far-away

home on the earth, he sighed too, for he was a kindhearted demon, and

loved his handsome young Prince.

At last he asked Prince Bahrâmgor what was the cause of his growing so

pale and sighing so often--for so amiable was the young man that he

would rather have died of grief than have committed the rudeness of

telling his host he was longing to get away; but when he was asked he

said piteously, 'Oh, good demon! let me go home and see my father the

King, my mother the Queen, my horse and my hound, for I am very

weary. Let me and my Princess go, or assuredly I shall die!'

At first the demon refused, but at last he took pity on the Prince,

and said, 'Be it so; nevertheless you will soon repent and long to be

back in Demonsland; for the world has changed since you left it, and

you will have trouble. Take this hair with you, and when you need

help, burn it, then I will come immediately to your assistance.'

Then the demon Jasdrûl said a regretful goodbye, and, Hey presto!--

Prince Bahrâmgor found himself standing outside his native city, with

his beautiful bride beside him.

But, alas! as the good-natured demon had foretold, everything was

changed. His father and mother were both dead, a usurper sat on the

throne, and had put a price on Bahrâmgor's head should he ever return

from his mysterious journey. Luckily no one recognised the young

Prince (so much had he changed during his residence in Demonsland)

save his old huntsman, who, though overjoyed to see his master once

more, said it was as much as his life was worth to give the Prince

shelter; still, being a faithful servant, he agreed to let the young

couple live in the garret of his house.

'My old mother, who is blind,' he said, 'will never see you coming and

going; and as you used to be fond of sport, you can help me to hunt,

as I used to help you.'

So the splendid Prince Bahrâmgor and his lovely Princess hid in the

garret of the huntsman's house, and no one knew they were there. Now

one fine day, when the Prince had gone out to hunt, as servant to the

huntsman, Princess Shâhpasand took the opportunity of washing her

beautiful golden hair, which hung round her ivory neck and down to her

pretty ankles like a shower of sunshine, and when she had washed it

she combed it, and set the window ajar so that the breeze might blow

in and dry her hair.

Just at this moment the Chief Constable of the town happened to pass

by, and hearing the window open, looked up and saw the lovely

Shâhpasand, with her glittering golden hair. He was so overcome at

the sight that he fell right off his horse into the gutter. His

servants, thinking he had a fit, picked him up and carried him back to

his house, where he never ceased raving about a beautiful fairy with

golden hair in the huntsman's garret. This set everybody wondering

whether he had been bewitched, and the story meeting the King's ear,

he sent down some soldiers to make inquiries at the huntsman's house.

'No one lives here!' said the huntsman's cross old mother, 'no

beautiful lady, nor ugly one either, nor any person at all, save me

and my son. However, go to the garret and look for yourselves.'

Hearing these words of the old woman, Princess Shâhpasand bolted the

door, and, seizing a knife, cut a hole in the wooden roof. Then,

taking the form of a pigeon, she flew out, so that when the soldiers

burst open the door they found no one in the garret.

The poor Princess was greatly distressed at having to leave her

beautiful young Prince in this hurried way, and as she flew past the

blind old crone she whispered in her ear, 'I go to my father's house

in the Emerald Mountain.'

In the evening when Prince Bahrâmgor returned from hunting, great was

his grief at finding the garret empty! Nor could the blind old crone

tell him much of what had occurred; still, when he heard of the

mysterious voice which whispered, 'I go to my father's house in the

Emerald Mountain,' he was at first somewhat comforted. Afterwards,

when he reflected that he had not the remotest idea where the Emerald

Mountain was to be found, he fell into a very sad state, and casting

himself on the ground he sobbed and sighed; he refused his dinner, and

never ceased crying, 'Oh, my dearest Princess! my dearest Princess!'

At last he remembered the magic hair, and taking it from its

hiding-place threw it into the fire. It had scarcely begun to burn

when, Hey presto!--the demon Jasdrûl appeared, and asked him what he

wanted.

'Show me the way to the Emerald Mountain,' cried the Prince.

Then the kind-hearted demon shook his head sorrowfully, saying, 'You

would never reach it alive, my son. Be guided by me,--forget all that

has passed, and begin a new life.'

'I have but one life,' answered the faithful Prince, 'and that is gone

if I lose my dearest Princess! As I must die, let me die seeking

her.'

Then the demon Jasdrûl was touched by the constancy of the splendid

young Prince, and promised to aid him as far as possible. So he

carried the young man back to Demonsland, and giving him a magic wand,

bade him travel over the country until he came to the demon Nanâk

Chand's house.

'You will meet with many dangers by the way,' said his old friend,

'but keep the magic wand in your hand day and night, and nothing will

harm you. That is all I can do for you, but Nanâk Chand, who is my

elder brother, can help you farther on your way.'

So Prince Bahrâmgor travelled through Demonsland, and because he held

the magic wand in his hand day and night, no harm came to him. At

last he arrived at the demon Nanâk Chand's house, just as the demon

had awakened from sleep, which, according to the habit of demons, had

lasted for twelve years. Naturally he was desperately hungry, and on

catching sight of the Prince, thought what a dainty morsel he would be

for breakfast; nevertheless, though his mouth watered, the demon

restrained his appetite when he saw the wand, and asked the Prince

politely what he wanted. But when the demon Nanâk Chand had heard the

whole story, he shook his head, saying, 'You will never reach the

Emerald Mountain, my son. Be guided by me,--forget all that has

passed, and begin a new life.'

Then the splendid young Prince answered as before, 'I have but one

life, and that is gone if I lose my dearest Princess! If I must die,

let me die seeking her.'

This answer touched the demon Nanâk Chand, and he gave the faithful

Prince a box of powdered antimony, and bade him travel on through

Demonsland till he came to the house of the great demon Safed. 'For,'

said he, 'Safed is my eldest brother, and if anybody can do what you

want, he will. If you are in need, rub the powder on your eyes, and

whatever you wish near will be near, but whatever you wish far will be

far.'

So the constant Prince travelled on through all the dangers and

difficulties of Demonsland, till he reached the demon Safed's house,

to whom he told his story, showing the powder and the magic wand,

which had brought him so far in safety.

But the great demon Safed shook his head, saying, 'You will never

reach the Emerald Mountain alive, my son. Be guided by me,--forget

all that has passed, and begin a new life.'

Still the faithful Prince gave the same answer, 'I have but one life,

and that is gone if I lose my dearest Princess! If I must die, let me

die seeking her.'

Then the great demon nodded his head approvingly, and said, 'You are a

brave lad, and I must do my best for you. Take this _yech_-cap:

whenever you put it on you will become invisible. Journey to the

north, and after a while in the far distance you will see the Emerald

Mountain. Then put the powder on your eyes and wish the mountain

near, for it is an enchanted hill, and the farther you climb the

higher it grows. On the summit lies the Emerald City: enter it by

means of your invisible cap, and find the Princess--if you can.'

So the Prince journeyed joyfully to the north, until in the far far

distance he saw the glittering Emerald Mountain. Then he rubbed the

powder on his eyes, and behold! what he desired was near, and the

Emerald City lay before him, looking as if it had been cut out of a

single jewel. But the Prince thought of nothing save his dearest

Princess, and wandered up and down the gleaming city protected by his

invisible cap. Still he could not find her. The fact was, the

Princess Shâhpasand's father had locked her up inside seven prisons,

for fear she should fly away again, for he doated on her, and was in

terror lest she should escape back to earth and her handsome young

Prince, of whom she never ceased talking.

'If your husband comes to you, well and good,' said the old man, 'but

you shall never go back to him.'

So the poor Princess wept all day long inside her seven prisons, for

how could mortal man ever reach the Emerald Mountain?

Now the Prince, whilst roaming disconsolately about the city, noticed

a servant woman who every day at a certain hour entered a certain door

with a tray of sweet dishes on her head. Being curious, he took

advantage of his invisible cap, and when she opened the door he

slipped in behind her. Nothing was to be seen but a large door,

which, after shutting and locking the outer one, the servant opened.

Again Prince Bahrâmgor slipped in behind her, and again saw nothing

but a huge door. And so on he went through all the seven doors, till

he came to the seventh prison, and there sat the beautiful Princess

Shâhpasand, weeping salt tears. At the sight of her he could scarcely

refrain from flinging himself at her feet, but remembering that he was

invisible, he waited till the servant after putting down the tray

retired, locking all the seven prisons one by one. Then he sat down

by the Princess and began to eat out of the same dish with her.

She, poor thing, had not the appetite of a sparrow, and scarcely ate

anything, so when she saw the contents of the dish disappearing, she

thought she must be dreaming. But when the whole had vanished, she

became convinced some one was in the room with her, and cried out

faintly, 'Who eats in the same dish with me?'

Then Prince Bahrâmgor lifted the _yech_-cap from his forehead, so

that he was no longer quite invisible, but showed like a figure seen

in early dawn. At this the Princess wept bitterly, calling him by

name, thinking she had seen his ghost, but as he lifted the

_yech_-cap more and more, and, growing from a shadow to real

flesh and blood, clasped her in his arms, her tears changed to radiant

smiles.

Great was the astonishment of the servant next day when she found the

handsome young Prince seated beside his dearest Princess. She ran to

tell the King, who, on hearing the whole story from his daughter's

lips, was very much pleased at the courage and constancy of Prince

Bahrâmgor, and ordered Princess Shâhpasand to be released at once;

'For,' he said, 'now her husband has found his way to her, my daughter

will not want to go to him.'

Then he appointed the Prince to be his heir, and the faithful Prince

Bahrâmgor and his beautiful bride lived happily ever afterwards in the

Emerald kingdom.