The Serpent Prince

: Fairy Tales From All Nations

There lived once a peasant's wife who would have given all she

possessed to have a child, but yet she never had one.



One day her husband brought home a bundle of twigs from the wood, out

of which crept a pretty little young serpent. When Sabatella, that was

the peasant woman's name, saw the little serpent, she sighed deeply

and said: "Even serpents have their offspring; I alone am so

unfortunate as to rem in childless!"



"Since you are childless," replied the little serpent, "take me in

lieu of a child; you shall have no cause to repent, and I will love

you more than a son."



When Sabatella heard the serpent speak, she was at first ready to go

out of her wits from fright; but at length taking courage said: "If it

be only for your kind words, I will love you as well as if you were my

own child."



So saying, she showed the serpent a cupboard in the house for his bed,

and she gave him a share, daily, of all she had to eat, and so the

serpent grew; and when he was quite grown up, he said to the peasant,

Cola Mattheo by name, whom he considered in the light of a father:

"Dear Papa, I wish to marry."



"I am willing," said Mattheo; "we will look about for a serpent like

yourself, and conclude the alliance at once."



"Why so," replied the serpent; "we shall then only become connected

with vipers, and similar vermin. I greatly prefer to marry the king's

daughter; so pray go forthwith, solicit the king for her, and say that

a serpent wishes to have her for his wife."



Cola Mattheo, who was a simple-minded man, went without further delay

to the king, and said: "The persons of messengers are always held

sacred. Know, therefore, that a serpent desires to have your daughter

for his wife; and I am come hither in my capacity of gardener to see

whether I can graft a dove upon a serpent."



The king, perceiving that he was somewhat of a booby, in order to get

rid of him, said: "Go home, and tell this serpent that if he can turn

all the fruit in this garden into gold, I will give him my daughter in

marriage," and laughing heartily, he dismissed the peasant.



When Cola Mattheo reported the king's answer, the serpent replied: "Go

early in the morning and collect all the fruit kernels you can find

throughout the city, and sow them in the royal garden; then you shall

behold a wonder."



Cola Mattheo, who was a great simpleton, said nothing, but as soon as

the sun with his golden besom had swept away the shades of night, he

took his basket under his arm, went from street to street, carefully

picking up every seed and kernel of peach, pomegranate, apricot,

cherry, and all other fruits he could find. Then he sowed them in the

royal garden as the serpent had desired him,--which he had no sooner

done than he perceived the stems of the trees, together with their

leaves, flowers, and fruit, all turn into shining gold; and the king,

when he saw it, went almost out of his senses, and could not tell what

to make of the affair.



But when Cola Mattheo was sent by the serpent to request the king to

perform his promise, the king replied: "Not so fast! For if the

serpent really desires to have my daughter in marriage, he must do

something more; and, in fact, I should like him to change the walls

and the paths in my garden into precious stones."



On this new demand being reported to the serpent, he said: "Go early

in the morning and collect all the potsherds you can find on the

ground; strew them in the paths and on the walls of the garden; then

we shall soon make the king perform his promise."



And when the night had passed away, Cola Mattheo took a great basket

and collected all the bits of broken pots, pans, jugs, cups and

saucers, and all similar rubbish; and when he had done with them as

the serpent desired him, the garden was suddenly covered with

emeralds, rubies, chalcedonies, and carbuncles, so that its brilliancy

dazzled all eyes, and astonished all hearts. The king was almost

petrified at this spectacle, and knew not what had befallen him.



When, however, the serpent caused him to be again reminded of his

promise, he answered: "All this is nothing yet. I must have this

palace quite filled with gold."



When Cola brought this further put-off from the king, the serpent only

said: "Go and take a bunch of green herbs, and sweep the floors of the

palace with it; then we shall see what will happen."



Mattheo directly made a great bunch of purslain, marjoram, rue, and

chervil, with which he swept the floors of the palace, and immediately

the rooms were filled with gold in such quantities, that poverty must

have fled at least a hundred houses off.



Now when the peasant went once more in the name of the serpent to

demand the princess, the king found himself constrained at last to

keep his promise. He called his daughter, and said: "My beloved

Grannonia, in order to make sport of an individual who requested you

in marriage, I required things of him which seemed impossible. As,

however, I now find myself obliged to fulfil my promise--I entreat

you, my dutiful daughter, not to bring my word to disgrace, but that

you will resign yourself to what Heaven wills, and I am constrained to

do."



"Do as you please, my lord and father," answered Grannonia, "for I

will not depart one hair's breadth from what you desire."



On hearing this the king desired Cola Mattheo to conduct the serpent

to his presence; who accordingly repaired to court in a carriage made

entirely of gold, drawn by four elephants, also of gold. As they

passed along, however, everybody fled before them, from terror at

seeing such a dreadfully large serpent.



When the serpent reached the palace, the courtiers shuddered and

trembled; even the very scullions ran away, and the king and queen

shut themselves up in a remote chamber. Grannonia alone retained her

self-possession; and although her royal parents called to her, saying:

"Fly, fly, Grannonia!" she stirred not from the spot, and merely said:

"I will not flee from the husband whom you have given me."






No sooner had the serpent entered the apartment, than he encircled

Grannonia with his tail, kissed her, then drew her into another

chamber, locked the door, and stripping off his skin, was transformed

into a remarkably handsome young man, with golden locks and bright

eyes, who immediately embraced Grannonia with the utmost tenderness,

and paid her the most flattering attentions.



The king, on seeing the serpent lock himself into another room with

the princess, said to his wife: "Heaven have pity on our poor

daughter; for, unquestionably, all is over with her. This confounded

serpent has, no doubt, by this time swallowed her up like the yolk of

an egg." And they peeped through the keyhole to see what had happened.



But when they beheld the surprising elegance and beauty of the young

man, and perceived the serpent skin, which had been thrown down on the

ground, they burst open the door, rushed in, and seizing the skin,

threw it into the fire, where it was instantly consumed. Whereupon the

young man exclaimed: "Ah! you wretched people, what have you done to

me!" and changing himself into a pigeon, he flew with such force

against the window glass, that it broke, and he flew through, although

very much injured.



Grannonia, who in one and the same moment beheld herself thus

rejoicing and grieving, happy and unhappy, rich and poor, complained

bitterly at this destruction of her happiness, this poisoning of her

joy, this sad change of her fortune, all of which she laid to the

charge of her parents, although these assured her they had not

intended to do wrong. She, however, ceased not to bemoan herself until

night drew in, and as soon as all the inmates of the palace were in

their beds, she collected all her jewels, and went out at a back door,

determined to search till she should again find her lost treasure.

When she got beyond the city, guided by the moonshine, she met a fox,

who offered to be her companion; to which Grannonia replied: "You are

heartily welcome to me, neighbour, for I do not know the district very

well."



They went on together a considerable way, and reached a forest, where

the tops of the lofty trees met on high, and formed an agreeable

canopy over their heads. As they were weary with walking, and wished

to repose, they went under the thick leafy roof, where a rivulet

sported with the fresh grass, sprinkling it with its clear drops.



They lay down on the mossy carpet, paid the debt of sleep to nature

for the wear and tear of life, and did not wake until the sun with his

wonted fire gave notice that men might resume their avocations; but

after they had risen, they stood awhile listening to the song of the

little birds, as Grannonia took infinite pleasure in hearing their

twittering.



When the fox perceived this, he said: "If you understood, as I do,

what they say, your pleasure would be infinitely greater."



Excited by his words--for curiosity as well as love of gossip is a

natural gift in all women--Grannonia begged the fox to tell her what

he had learned from the birds.



The fox allowed her to urge him for a considerable time, in order to

awaken still greater curiosity for what he was going to relate; but at

length he told her that the birds were conversing about a misfortune

which had befallen the son of a king, who, having given offence to a

wicked enchantress, had been doomed by her to remain for seven long

years in the form of a serpent. The period of his enchantment arriving

at its close, he had fallen in love with the daughter of a king, and

having, on finding himself in a room alone with her, stripped off his

serpent's skin, her parents had broken in upon them and had burnt the

skin; whereupon the prince, by flying through a window in the form of

a pigeon, had so severely injured himself, that the surgeons had no

hope of his recovery.



Grannonia, on hearing the history of her beloved prince, immediately

inquired whose son the prince might be, and if there were any means by

which his cure could be effected. The fox replied, that those birds

had said that he was the son of the King of Ballone-Grosso, and that

no other means existed of stopping up the holes in his head, so that

his reason should not evaporate through them, but to anoint the wounds

with the blood of those very birds who had narrated the circumstance.



On hearing these words, Grannonia besought the fox to be so very kind

as to catch the birds for her, that she might get their blood, and

promised to share with him the profit she would make by curing the

prince.



"Softly to work," said the fox; "let us wait till night, and when the

birds are gone to roost, I will climb the tree and strangle them one

after the other."



So he passed the day talking alternately of the beauty of the king's

son, of the father of the princess, and of the misfortune that had

befallen her, till at length night came on. When the fox saw all the

little birds asleep on the branches, he climbed very quietly and

cautiously up, and caught all the chaffinches, goldfinches, and

fly-catchers that were on the tree, killed them, and put their blood

in a little flask he carried with him, in order to refresh himself on

the road.



Grannonia was expressing her delight at this success, when the fox

said to her: "My dear daughter, your joy is all in vain; for you have

gained nothing at all, unless besides the blood of the birds you also

possess mine, which I certainly do not mean to give you;" and so

saying, off he ran.



Grannonia, who saw that all her hopes were about to be annihilated, in

order to obtain her desires, had recourse to cunning and flattery; so

she cried out to him: "Dear daddy fox, you would be quite in the right

to take care of your skin, if I were not so much indebted to you, and

if there were no more foxes in the world. But since you know how much

I have to thank you for, and that in these fields there is no lack of

creatures of your kind, you may rely without uneasiness on me, and

therefore do not act like the cow who kicks down the pail after she

has filled it with her milk. Stand still, do not leave me, but

accompany me to this king's city, in order that he may hire me of you

for a servant."



The fox into whose head it never entered that a fox could ever be

duped, found himself, however, deceived by a woman; for he had

scarcely given his assent to accompanying Grannonia, and had not gone

fifty paces with her, before she ungratefully knocked him down with

the stick she carried, killed him, and poured his blood into the

flask.



She then ran off as fast as she could, until she reached

Ballone-Grosso. There she went straight to the royal palace, and

caused the king to be informed she was come to cure the prince's

wounds.



The king had her immediately brought into his presence, greatly

surprised that a young maiden should promise to do that which the most

skilful surgeons in his kingdom acknowledged themselves incompetent to

effect. But as there would be no harm in trying, he gave her

permission to make the experiment.



Grannonia, however, said: "If I fulfil your wishes, you must promise

to give me your son for my husband." The king, who had lost all hope

of seeing his son restored, replied: "Only restore him to health and

spirits, and you shall have him just as you make him. For it is not

too much for me to give a husband to one who gives me a son."



So they went into the prince's room, and no sooner had Grannonia

anointed him with the blood than he was entirely cured. Now when

Grannonia saw him well and cheerful, she said to the king that he must

keep his word; whereupon the latter turned to his son, and spoke thus:

"My dear son, but lately I looked upon you as dead, and now, when I

least expected, I see you again living and well; and since I promised

this young maiden in case she restored you, that you should become her

husband, and as heaven has been so gracious to me, enable me, if you

have any regard for me, to fulfil my promise, for gratitude constrains

me to recompense this service."



The prince replied: "My lord and father, I wish my will were as free

as my love for you is great. But since I have already given my word to

another woman, you would not wish that I should break my promise; and

this young maiden herself will not counsel me to act so faithlessly to

her whom I love, therefore I must remain true to my choice."



When Grannonia heard these words, and perceived that the prince

retained the memory of her so vividly in his heart, she felt

unspeakable joy, and said, whilst she blushed to crimson: "But if I

persuade the maiden whom you love, to renounce her claim on you,

would you then comply with my wish?"



"Far be it from me," replied the prince, "that I should ever efface

the fair image of my beloved from my breast. Whatever she may do, my

desire and my sentiments will remain unaltered; and were I to risk my

life for it, still I never would consent to the change."



Grannonia, who could no longer conceal her feelings, now made herself

known; for the darkness of the chamber, where all the curtains were

drawn on account of the prince's illness, and her own disguise, had

entirely prevented him from recognising her. The moment he perceived

who she was, he embraced her with indescribable joy, and then related

to his father who she was, and what she had done for him.



Then they sent for the parents of the princess, and the marriage

festival was celebrated with great rejoicings, so that it was again

made manifest that for the joys of love, sorrow is ever the best

seasoning.