Fate
There was once a mighty king, who had an only son. When this son grew
up every princess was in love with him. The king was very desirous that
his son should be early settled in life. He chose for him a princess,
whom he proposed he should marry. The son objected very much, saying:
'It is not my fate to be united to this maiden; I shall not marry her.'
Some time after this the youth came to his father and said: 'I entreat
thee, let me go forth and seek my fortune, and give me three bags of
money.' The king granted his request. The prince prepared everything,
and set out on his journey.
He travelled on until he met a stranger; this stranger was an angel,
clad in the form of a man. He inquired of the prince: 'Whither art
thou going? what seekest thou?' The prince told him all, and that he
wished to learn what was written in the book of fate for him. Then
this stranger showed him a beautiful palace, and said: 'There thou
wilt learn thy fate.'
The prince thanked him, and set out for the palace. When he arrived in
the courtyard, he looked round, and saw notes lying about. He began to
examine them, but, for a long time, he searched in vain. Then there
came from the palace another man, who said to the prince: 'What dost
thou want, brother? what seekest thou?' The prince answered: 'I am
seeking for the letter in which my fate is written.' 'Why seekest thou
there? those are only poor folks' fates, kings' fortunes are written
inside. Come with me and I shall show thee thine,' said the unknown.
The prince entered the house. The unknown searched for his fate, and
called him. Inside was written: 'Such-and-such a prince will marry
a weaver's daughter who has been ill for nine years.' He read this
out, and the prince was struck with horror. 'I shall change my fate,'
said the prince to himself. He took his letter of fate, and went to
seek the weaver's daughter.
He went on and on, and was in a thick forest when the shades of evening
fell. He wandered on in the hope of finding shelter, and at last he
saw the glimmer of a light. He came to a hut, and asked permission
to remain there during the night. The master of the house replied:
'Son, thou art a great man, we have nothing befitting thy rank, but
we can give thee the best we have, for a guest is a gift of God.' The
prince stayed there that night, and his host grudged him nothing. When
they had finished supper, the prince noticed that somebody was having
a meal in another room. He said to his host: 'I hope that thou wilt
not think me inquisitive if I ask who is in the other room, and what
is the meaning of this?' Then the host told him the following tale:
'I am a weaver, and from day to day can barely live. God has given me
nobody to help me in my work. I have an only daughter, and she is an
invalid. For nine years she has not risen from her bed; I can assure
thee she gives me no help.' When the prince heard this, he bit his
little finger with vexation, and became melancholy. He did not close
his eyes that night. He was thinking all the time how he might get
rid of his fate.
In the middle of the night, when every one was snoring and slept like
the dead, the prince rose silently, stole from his bedchamber, and
quietly entered the room of the weaver's daughter. When he saw her
he was inwardly troubled, he drew forth his dagger, and plunged it
into her. Then he noiselessly went away, left his money behind him,
and stole forth into the night.
He went home to his father, and complained of the evil fate written
for him. His father was very indignant at this, but hid his anger,
and comforted his son.
Some time passed. One day the prince went out to hunt. He saw in a
lonely wood a beautiful palace, and, in the palace, a maiden fair
as the sun. The prince could have gazed for ever on her beauty. He
looked a long time, then looking from a distance would not satisfy
him. He spurred his horse, and when he came near he was even more
struck with the loveliness of the maiden. He descended from his horse,
came to her and asked her to marry him. When he had heard with joy
her sweet words of consent, he went gaily home.
On the way, his head swam with pleasure at the thought of the welcome
change; instead of the unhappy fate promised him, he was to have such a
beautiful wife. He told his father what had happened to him, and asked
him to prepare for the wedding. The king rejoiced at the happiness
of his beloved son, and made preparations for a grand wedding.
Some days after they were married, the prince laid his hand on his
lovely wife's heart, and felt something hard like a wart. He said:
'What is this?' His wife replied: 'I am a poor weaver's daughter; for
nine years I lay in bed, a helpless invalid, yellow as a cucumber. Once
there came a youth to my father's house for shelter. He plunged
his dagger into me, then fled with haste, and went on his way. I
was very sick, but my mother put a plaster on my side and I was
completely cured. The guest left three bags of money behind him, and
with these we bought a beautiful palace, my father gave up weaving,
and we lived without a care.' When the prince heard this, he said:
'O God! Thy decrees are not vain and futile!' Then he told his beloved
wife all that had happened to him.