by Jane Yolen
The poor man took the girl, with her few possessions packed in a trunk, and they set off for his humble home in a nearby village. On the journey the poor man began to feel concerned about his deception. He was frightened that the girl would scream and shout when she saw that he was not a rich man at all, but a very humble peasant; he feared too that she would run away and be lost to him forever. The poor man, troubled by these thoughts, decided on a plan. He took the girl’s possession out of the trunk and buried them in the earth. Then he ordered the girl into the trunk, telling her that he wished to surprise her when they reached his home. Once the girl was inside the trunk the man locked it and made his way home, leaving the girl in a ditch at the side of a forest path.
When he reached his home the poor man ran to the houses of his nearby neighbors, and telling them that he was bringing home a nervous new bride, warned them not be concerned if they heard screams and shouts during the night. Then he fitted strong new bolts to his door so that the girl would not be able to escape.
While the poor man was away, a rich chieftain passed the spot where the imprisoned girl was lying in the trunk, awaiting the return of her husband. The chieftain ordered his men to open the trunk, and when he saw the girl inside he was so taken by her frail beauty that he took her away with him, leaving a fierce bear in her place inside the trunk.
The poor man returned to fetch his bride, tied a rope around the trunk and dragged it to his home. Inside the house he opened the trunk and was overwhelmed by the fierce bear, made more ferocious by its imprisonment and rough handling. The poor man screamed and shouted for help as the bear attacked him, but the neighbors took no heed of the noise, for they had already been warned.
So the poor man who had plotted and pretended to be a god died at the hands of a savage bear, and the girl lived happily ever after as the wife of a rich chieftain. The old woman’s prayers had been answered.
THE MERCHANT’S DAUGHTER AND THE SLANDERER
Russia
Once there was a merchant who had two children, a daughter and a son. When the merchant was on his deathbed (his wife had been taken to the graveyard before him) he said, “My children, live well with each other, in love and concord, just as I lived with your deceased mother.” Then he died. He was buried and prayers were said for the repose of his soul, as is fitting.
Shortly afterward, the merchant’s son decided to trade beyond the sea. He rigged up three ships, loaded them with a variety of goods, and said to his sister, “Now, my beloved sister, I am going on a long voyage and leaving you at home all alone. Mind you, behave properly, do not engage in evil things, and do not consort with strangers.” Then they exchanged portraits; the sister took her brother’s portrait, the brother took his sister’s. They wept as they took leave of each other and said farewell.
The merchant’s son raised anchor, pushed off from shore, hoisted sail, and reached the open sea. He sailed for one year, he sailed for another year, and in the third year he came to a certain wealthy capital and anchored his ships in the port. As soon as he arrived he took a bowl full of precious stones and rolls of his best velvet, damask, and satin, and took them to the king of those parts as a gift. He came to the palace, gave his gift to the king, and petitioned for leave to trade in his capital.
The precious gift was to the king’s liking and he said to the merchant’s son, “Your gift is munificent; in all my life I have never received a finer one. In return I grant you the first place on the market. Buy and sell, fear no one, and if anyone injures you, come straight to me. Tomorrow I myself will visit your ship.”
Next day the king came to the merchant’s son, began to walk on his ship and examine his goods, and in the master’s cabin saw a portrait hanging on the wall. He asked the merchant’s son, “Whose portrait is that?”
“My sister’s, Your Majesty.”
“Well, Mr. Merchant, such a beauty I have not seen in all my days. Tell me the truth: what is her character and what are her manners?”
“She is quiet and chaste as a dove.”
“Well, if so, she will be a queen; I will take her to wife.”
At that time, a certain general who was spiteful and envious was with the king; at the thought that anyone else might find happiness he choked with rage. He heard the king’s words and became terribly angry. “Now,” he thought, “our wives will have to bow to a woman of the merchant class!” He could not restrain himself and said to the king, “Your Majesty, do not order me to be put to death, order me to speak.”
“Speak.”
“This merchant’s daughter is not a suitable match for you. I met her long ago, and more than once I lay on the bed and played amorous games with her. She is quite a dissolute girl.”
“How can you, foreign merchant, say that she is quiet and chaste as a dove, and that she never engages in evil things?”
“Your Majesty, if the general is not lying, let him get my sister’s ring from her and find out what is her secret mark.”
“Very well,” said the king, and he gave the general a furlough. “If you fail to get the ring and tell me the secret mark by such and such a day, your head shall fall by my sword.”
The general made ready and went to the town where the merchant’s daughter lived; he arrived and did not know what to do. He walked back and forth in the streets, low in spirits and thoughtful. He happened to meet an old woman who begged for alms; he gave her something. She asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“Why should I tell you? You cannot help me in my trouble.”
“Who knows? Perhaps I can help you.”
“Do you know where such and such a merchant’s daughter lives?”
“Of course I do.”
“If so, get me her ring and find out what is her secret mark. If you do this for me, I shall reward you with gold.”
The old woman hobbled to the merchant’s daughter, knocked at her door, said that she was going to the Holy Land, and asked for alms. She spoke so cunningly that the lovely maiden became quite bewitched and did not realize that she had blurted out where her secret mark was; and while all this talk was going on, the old woman slipped the girl’s ring from the table and hid it in her sleeve. Then she said farewell to the merchant’s daughter and ran to the general. She gave him the ring and said, “Her secret mark is a golden hair under her left arm.”
The general rewarded her liberally and set out on his way back. He came to his kingdom and reported to the palace; and the merchant’s son was there too. “Well,” asked the king, “have you got the ring?”
“Here it is, Your Majesty.”
“And what is the merchant’s daughter’s secret mark?”
“A golden hair under her left arm.”
“Is that correct?” asked the king of the merchant’s son.
“It is, Your Majesty.”
“Then how dared you lie to me? For this I will order you put to death.”
“Your Majesty, do not refuse me one favor. Give me leave to write a letter to my sister; let her come and say farewell to me.”
“Very well,” said the king, “write to her, but I won’t wait long.” He postponed the execution and in the meantime ordered that the young man be put in chains and thrown into a dungeon.
The merchant’s daughter, upon receiving her brother’s letter, set out immediately. As she traveled she knitted a golden glove and wept bitterly; her tears fell as diamonds, and she gathered these diamonds and studded the glove with them. She arrived in the capital, rented an apartment in the house of a poor widow, and asked, “What is the news in your city?”
“There is no news except that a foreign merchant is being made to suffer because of his sister. Tomorrow he will be hanged.”
Next morning the merchant’s daughter arose, hired a carriage, donned a rich garment, and went to the square. There the gallows was ready, troops were standing guard, and a great multitude of people had gathered; and now they led out her brother. She got out of the carriage, went straight to the king
, handed him the glove that she had knitted on her way, and said, “Your Majesty, I beg of you, estimate what such a glove is worth.”
The king examined it. “Ah,” he said, “it is priceless!”
“Well, your general was in my house and stole a glove exactly like it, the other of the pair. Please order that a search be made for it.”
The king summoned the general, and said to him, “There is a complaint against you that you stole a precious glove.” The general began to swear that he knew nothing about it.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” said the merchant’s daughter. “You have been in my house so many times, lain with me on the bed, played amorous games with me.”
“But I have never seen you before! I have never been in your house, and not for anything in the world could I say at this moment who you are or whence you have come.”
“If so, Your Majesty, why is my brother made to suffer?”
“Which brother?” asked the king.
“The one who is now being led to the gallows.”
Thus the truth became known. The king ordered the merchant’s son to be released and the general to be hanged; and himself sat in the carriage with the lovely maiden, the merchant’s daughter, and drove to the church. They married, made a great feast, began to live in happiness and prosperity, and are still living to this very day.
WHAT HAPPENED TO HADJI
Turkey
Hadji was a merchant in the Great Bazaar of Stambul. Being a pious Mohammedan, he was of course a married man, but even so he was not invulnerable to the charms of women. It happened one day that a charming hanum came to his shop to purchase some spices. After the departure of his fair visitor, Hadji, do what he might, could not drive her image from his mind’s eye. Furthermore, he was greatly puzzled by a tiny black bag containing twelve grains of wheat, which the hanum had evidently forgotten.
Till a late hour that night did Hadji remain in his shop, in the hope that either the hanum or one of her servants would come for the bag and thus give him the means of seeing her again, or at least of learning where she lived. But Hadji was doomed to disappointment, and, much preoccupied, he returned to his house. There he sat, plunged in thought, unresponsive to his wife’s conversation.
Hadji remained downcast day after day, but at last, giving way to his wife’s entreaties, he told what had happened and admitted that ever since that fatal day his soul had been in bondage to the fair unknown.
“Oh, husband,” replied his wife, “and do you not understand what that black bag containing the twelve grains of wheat means?”
“Alas, no,” replied Hadji.
“Why, my husband, it is plain; plain as if it had been told. She lives in the Wheat Market, at house number 12, with a black door.”
Much excited, Hadji rushed off and found that there was a number 12 in the Wheat Market, with a black door, so he promptly knocked. The door opened, and whom should he behold but the lady in question! Instead of speaking to him, however, she threw a basin of water out into the street and then shut the door. Hadji did not know what to think of this. Having lingered about the doorway for a time, he at length returned home. He greeted his wife more pleasantly than he had done for many days and told her of his adventure.
“Why,” said his wife, “don’t you understand what the basin of water thrown out of the door means?”
“Alas, no,” said Hadji.
“Veyh! Veyh!” she exclaimed pityingly, “it means that at the back of the house there is a running stream, and that you must go to her that way.”
Off rushed Hadji, and found that his wife was right; there was a running stream at the back of the house, so he knocked at the back door. The hanum, however, instead of opening it, came to the window, showed a mirror, reversed it, and then disappeared. Hadji lingered at the back of the house for a long time, but, seeing no further sign of life, he returned to his own home much dejected. On his entering the doorway, his wife greeted him with, “Well, was it not as a I told you?”
“Yes,” said Hadji. “You are truly a wonderful woman! But I do not know why she came to the window and showed me a mirror, both front and back, instead of opening the door.”
“Oh,” said his wife, “that is very simple; she means that you must go when the face of the moon has reversed itself—about ten o’clock.” The hour arrived, Hadji hurried off, and so did his wife; the one to see his love, and the other to inform the police.
Whilst Hadji and his charmer were talking in the garden the police seized them and carried them both off to prison; and Hadji’s wife, having accomplished her mission, returned home.
The next morning she baked a quantity of lokma cakes, and, taking them to the prison, begged entrance of the guards, and permission to distribute those cakes to the prisoners, for the repose of the souls of her dead. This being a request which could not be denied, she was allowed to enter. Finding the cell in which the lady who had attracted her husband was confined, she offered to save her the disgrace of the exposure, provided she would consent never again to cast loving eyes upon Hadji the merchant. Those conditions were gratefully accepted, and Hadji’s wife changed places with the prisoner.
When they were brought before the judge, Hadji was thunderstruck to see his wife, but, being a wise man, he held his peace and let her do the talking, which she did most vigorously. Vehemently did she protest against the insult inflicted on both her and her husband. What right had the police to bring them to prison because they chose to converse in a garden, seeing that they were lawfully wedded people? To witness that they were man and wife she called upon the watchman and the priest of the district and several of her neighbors.
Poor Hadji was dumbfounded, as, accompanied by his wife, he soon after left the prison where he had expected to stay at least a year or two. “Truly thou art a wonderful woman!” was all he was able to say.
MR. FOX
England
Lady Mary was young, and Lady Mary was fair. She had two brothers, and more lovers than she could count. But of them all, the bravest and most gallant was a Mr. Fox, whom she met when she was down at her father’s country house. No one knew who Mr. Fox was; but he was certainly brave, and surely rich, and of all her lovers, Lady Mary cared for him alone. At last it was agreed upon between them that they should be married. Lady Mary asked Mr. Fox where they should live, and he described to her his castle, and where it was, but, strange to say, did not ask her, or her brothers, to come and see it.
So one day, near the wedding day, when her brothers were out, and Mr. Fox was away for a day or two on business, as he said, Lady Mary set out for Mr. Fox’s castle. And after many searchings, she came at last to it, and a fine strong house it was, with high walls and a deep moat. And when she came up to the gateway, she saw written on it:
BE BOLD, BE BOLD
But as the gate was open, she went through it, and found no one there. So she went up to the doorway, and over it she found written:
BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BUT NOT TOO BOLD
Still she went on, till she came to the hall, and went up the broad stairs till she came to a door in the gallery, over which was written:
BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BUT NOT TOO BOLD,
LEST THAT YOUR HEART’S BLOOD SHOULD RUN COLD
But Lady Mary was a brave one, she was, and she opened the door, and what do you think she saw? Why, bodies and skeletons of beautiful young ladies all stained with blood. So Lady Mary thought it was high time to get out of that horrid place, and she closed the door, went through the gallery, and was just going down the stairs, and out of the hall, when who should she see through the window, but Mr. Fox dragging a beautiful young lady from the gateway to the door. Lady Mary rushed downstairs, and hid herself behind a cask, just in time, as Mr. Fox came in with the young lady, who seemed to have fainted.
Just as he got near Lady Mary, Mr. Fox saw a diamond ring glittering on the finger of the young lady he was dragging, and he tried to pull it off. But it was tightly fixed, and would not c
ome off, so Mr. Fox cursed and swore, and drew his sword, raised it, and brought it down upon the hand of the poor lady.
The sword cut off the hand, which jumped up into the air, and fell of all places in the world into Lady Mary’s lap. Mr. Fox looked about a bit, but did not think of looking behind the cask, so at last he went on dragging the young lady up the stairs into the Bloody Chamber.
As soon as she heard him pass through the gallery, Lady Mary crept out of the door, down through the gateway, and ran home as fast as she could.
Now it happened that the very next day the marriage contract of Lady Mary and Mr. Fox was to be signed, and there was a splendid breakfast before that.
And when Mr. Fox was seated at table opposite Lady Mary, he looked at her. “How pale you are this morning, my dear.” “Yes,” she said. “I had a bad night’s rest last night. I had horrible dreams.” “Dreams go by contraries,” said Mr. Fox; “but tell us your dream, and your sweet voice will make the time pass till the happy hour comes.”
“I dreamed,” said Lady Mary, “that I went yestermorn to your castle, and I found it in the woods, with high walls, and a deep moat, and over the gateway was written:
BE BOLD, BE BOLD
“But it is not so, nor it was not so,” said Mr. Fox.
“And when I came to the doorway over it was written:
BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BUT NOT TOO BOLD
“It is not so, nor it was not so,” said Mr. Fox.
“And then I went upstairs, and came to a gallery, at the end of which was a door, on which was written:
BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BUT NOT TOO BOLD,