Izmir watched this stirring combat for a moment, then burst out laughing. Sire, he said to the King of Quietlife Island, would you like me to get rid of all those people for you?
Very much, my dear friend, replied the king. No sooner said than done: Izmir gave his horse free rein, passed through the queen’s squadron, and – like a torrent rushing down a mountainside – crossed the river and emerged on the other side.
The enemy had not expected such an act of daring. Izmir was so good-looking that they thought at first he was a young woman, but they soon changed their mind when they saw him with his lance in his hand, laying about him, knocking riders to the ground, killing, crushing – in short, wreaking total havoc. The queen had a terrible fright, for Izmir’s horse had inspired all the other horses, and they charged across the river with him, despite their riders’ best efforts to stop them. The king, seeing that Izmir was taking things seriously and slaughtering his foes without quarter, came running up and took hold of his horse’s bridle: What on earth do you think you’re doing? he said. Stop, for goodness’ sake. You can’t kill people like that without mercy. It would be a fine thing if you taught them how to kill as well, and they came and paid us back! All we wanted to do was to chase them away. Look, there’s no one left except the ones you’ve killed or wounded.
Izmir shrugged his shoulders, but he stopped none the less, seeing that they had all run away. He accompanied the king, the queen and the army back to the crystal palace, chatting to them on the way.
Although the prince had just covered himself in glory, he showed no signs of being pleased with himself. He inspected the troops, looking closely at all the ladies in the army in the hope that Starlight might be among them. His search was in vain. He sighed bitterly and fell into a melancholy mood, despite the king’s endless talk: with his whispering voice, the king was the most monstrous chatterbox in the land.
Instead of going into the palace again, Izmir made up his mind to pursue his search for Starlight through every country and across every sea in the world. But when he tried to take his leave of the king and queen, the king protested that he could not allow Izmir to abandon them so soon, and he pressed him so hard that he finally agreed to climb back into the absurd bag, and was hauled up again into the palace apartments.
Prince Izmir yielded to this uncalled-for pressure only with the greatest reluctance and disgust, and fell into a black mood. He asked the king why on earth he had no staircase in his house. My predecessors have never had one, he replied. A fine reason for maintaining such a stupid and inconvenient custom! Izmir said curtly.
The king, who had become most submissive to the prince, promised to have a staircase built if he would show him how to do it. Izmir was touched by the king’s respectful manner and felt that he should not leave these obedient people in a state of ignorance. He agreed to remain with them for a year, all the more willingly because he thought he was more likely there than elsewhere to hear news of his beloved Starlight. He found some consolation in not being in the place where his love had first blossomed.
During his stay on Quietlife Island, an extraordinary change came about in the behaviour of its effeminate inhabitants. He accustomed their ears to noise, gave them some knowledge of architecture, sculpture, and the practical arts. He even attempted to prepare them for warfare: he managed to impose on them some sort of discipline, and taught them how to carry out military exercises and manoeuvres with passable skill. But he was unable to make them resolute, brave or bold. When three different armies suddenly landed on the island, Izmir was delighted to have such a good opportunity for a practical application of his lessons. He mustered his troops and was all ready to lead them into battle; but these cardboard soldiers were unable to stand the sight of the enemy. They were so terrified that they deserted Izmir on the spot. He performed miracles of bravery in order to save the king’s life at least. They were both taken prisoner, and the town was sacked. While the enemy were finishing off the job of destroying it and looting its treasures, they had Izmir put in one of their boats, where, having lost a great deal of blood, he fainted.
Izmir remained unconscious for a long time, and when he opened his eyes, he was amazed to find himself alone: the boat was sailing of its own accord. He had, it seemed, recovered all his strength, and his wounds had disappeared. In two days, the marvellous boat brought him to a port which he immediately recognised: it was the harbour that served the capital of his own country.
Some people who were walking past, dressed in clothes of deep mourning, recognised Izmir at once. They helped him out of the boat, and prostrated themselves at his feet, weeping with emotion and crying: God save the king! These shouts of acclamation filled the prince with alarm, and he soon learnt that his parents the king and queen had died of grief, almost simultaneously, because they had lost their son.
Izmir was exhausted and faint with hunger, but he forgot his own troubles and abandoned himself to sorrow. He was moved to the very core of his being: he wept bitterly for his father and mother and asked to be taken at once to their tomb. It was only when his pious sentiments had been satisfied that he put on royal robes and received the homage of the great and the respect of the common people.
Starlight was meanwhile not far from his thoughts. The very next day he sent a distinguished embassy to the yellow forest to inform the centaurs of his accession to the throne, and to ask them to send a thousand of their number for his personal guard.
They were most grateful that the new king should have remembered them in such a friendly manner, and sent the centaurs he asked for. Their leader, who was one of the most prominent citizens of the forest, took him a pigeon and a dove: the pigeon had a talent for finding things that were lost. The moment Izmir heard this, he ordered it to go and look for Starlight; as he felt that one could never do too much to ensure success, he also ordered his senior admiral to put to sea with a fleet of a thousand ships.
The dove never left the king’s side; in fact, she generally perched on his shoulder. The centaur-in-chief assured him that she would in due course be the means by which Starlight was recognised.
Several days went by; then Izmir’s subjects, seeing him always in a sad and solitary mood, or locked in private conference with the captain of the centaur guards, decided to suggest that they should find him a queen to ensure that the royal line would be continued. The most prominent citizens sought him out and begged him, for his people’s sake, to agree to their wishes and give them princes of the blood royal. When Izmir heard this proposal, his heart, where his tender love for Starlight was faithfully preserved, contracted with sorrow, and he wept.
I have no wish, he said, to refuse my peoples the reward they may rightly expect for their devotion to me; but I implore you, dear friends, to give me time to renew my search for Princess Starlight, whom as you know I loved so tenderly. My love for her has done nothing but increase; she fully deserved it, and even if she were not the daughter of the mighty King of Arabia the Blest, her virtues alone would make her worthy of the throne. If in a year’s time I am given proof that she no longer exists, you yourselves may choose for me a princess who is to your liking; until then, please do not mention it again, unless you wish to torment me, which I cannot believe.
The representatives of the people humbly prostrated themselves before him and replied that nothing could be more reasonable than what the king had proposed. Fresh ships were equipped and launched with extraordinary speed to search yet again for Starlight in the four corners of the world. When they arrived in a port, or on the meanest shore, the cry went out: Whoever gives us news of the beautiful Princess Starlight will be rewarded with a fine province, to be presented in person by our king, together with a hundred thousand pieces of gold and a superb horse.
This magnificent promise attracted wide attention, but there was still no sign of Starlight. The admiral would have become weary of all these fruitless voyages if he had been less fond of Izmir; but he could not make up his mind to return without n
ews of the princess, and so he sailed on.
Meanwhile, the waves had carried Starlight to the shore close to a magnificent city. She was rescued by none other than the king of the country, who happened to be walking along the beach at that moment. The monarch was moved to pity by Starlight’s youth and charms, and generously commanded that the beautiful stranger be taken to his palace and that she be looked after as if she were his own daughter. He had once had a daughter, but she had been lost for many years; as he no longer expected to see her again, he made up his mind to adopt the young woman whom fortune had brought to his shores.
So now she was waited on, dressed like a princess, and adored by the whole court. She was treated in the friendliest way by the queen, and even more by the king’s son. Starlight was extremely grateful for their expressions of affection, but she could not stop weeping: parties, hunting, tournaments, nothing the king invented to distract her could lessen her grief.
The queen, who genuinely loved this delightful girl, asked her one day why she was so sad. Only the prince royal was with them. Starlight was quite prepared to tell them her misfortunes; all she left out was the secret that Ermine-White had told her to keep. One learns more from experience than from any lessons: she was afraid the fairy would punish her. Starlight painted her love for Izmir in such life-like colours that she touched the hearts of the good queen and the young prince. But when she told them that she was the daughter of the King of Arabia the Blest and that she had been abducted when the town was sacked, the queen threw her arms round her neck, embraced her, and kept saying my darling daughter. The prince was delighted to have found such a charming sister again and went at once to inform the king of this happy discovery. While the queen and the princess were giving free rein to their joy and pouring out their hearts to one another, the good king appeared. Starlight wanted to throw herself at his feet, but he clasped her tenderly in his arms, and there ensued endless embraces, questions, explanations, and other infinitely touching demonstrations: everyone talked at once.
The jubilation quickly spread and was shared by the whole court. Cannon were fired, violins played, there was a banquet with roast pigeons, sweetmeats and preserves, and everyone drank themselves breathless on the most exquisite wines. The rockets, the firecrackers, the marionettes and the common people made a terrific din. Everyone wanted to see the princess at the same time, and they all brought presents – jewels, diamonds, fabrics, little dogs, sheep, monkeys and parrots. Starlight accepted each gift with a kindness and gratitude that was universally applauded, and before taking their leave, everyone was offered a choice of café au lait or redcurrant cordial.
At last the excitement died down, and the princess’s thoughts turned once more to her darling Izmir. Her uncertain future cast a shadow over all her pleasures; she sighed, she wept to relieve her feelings, and grieved that she was unable to share this happy event with the prince.
But far worse was to come. Her father granted her hand to his neighbour the Emperor of the Deserts. He had just signed a treaty with this powerful and dangerous monarch, and hoped that the marriage would cement it and bring lasting peace.
The princess thought she would die of grief when she heard this dire news. She threw herself down at her father’s knees and maintained that she had promised to be faithful to Prince Izmir and therefore could not possibly belong to another man. The king said she must be deluded. He ignored all her tears and protestations and commanded her to accept the Emperor of the Deserts as her husband. She went time and again to embrace the queen and appeal to her for help; but although the kind woman shared her daughter’s grief and tried to console her, she could think of no remedy: Starlight must obey.
The shock and pain of this new misfortune were so great that the princess could neither eat nor sleep. The preparations for her wedding progressed rapidly, and the fatal moment drew near. One night when she was even more distressed than usual, she remembered the little box that Fairy Ermine-White had given her. Her present danger seemed more pressing than the perils she had undergone at sea, and she made up her mind to use the box this time. She opened it.
A dark cloud came out and wrapped itself about Starlight. Quarter of an hour later, the cloud dispersed and she found herself on a ship made of mother-of-pearl; her cabin was lined with silver brocade and hung with mirrors, and the movement of the ship told her that she was on the open sea. Her cabin was lit by a magnificent rock crystal chandelier. Recovering somewhat from her astonishment, she rose from the sofa where she was sitting and found herself looking straight into a large mirror. She was horrified to see that she had turned into an Ethiopian, dressed in Moorish style in silver and rose-pink muslin, with a guitar hanging from a rope of white and rose-pink diamonds round her neck, and belt and buskins to match.
This splendid outfit did not console her for the loss of the loveliest complexion in the world. Cruel, barbarous Ermine-White! she cried wretchedly; even if you have preserved my beloved, how can he still love me beneath this frightful colour? Take my life, if you have condemned me to lose his affection.
She did not stop there: she ran up on deck, determined to cast herself into a watery tomb. As she went, she felt a powerful hand restrain her; she turned, and saw the fairy.
Faint-hearted girl, said Ermine-White, I see that the loss of your beauty has made you seek death, as if beauty were the only thing that could bring you happiness. Alas! replied Starlight in great distress and weeping copiously, I valued it only for the sake of Izmir, and now Izmir won’t love me any more. Sobs stifled her voice. But if fate had made your lover’s life depend on the loss of your beauty, continued the fairy, what would you have chosen, that he should die, and you regain your appearance, or that he live, but you remain an Ethiopian? That he should live, Starlight replied without hesitation, but that I should die, if he was no longer attracted to me. You shall both live, the charming fairy said, kissing the princess, and you will live in happiness and contentment. So much constancy and such perfect love deserve my protection.
On this, she disappeared, and Starlight stopped worrying about her colour. The little ship sailed gaily on, until at last it entered the port of Izmir’s kingdom.
The lovely Ethiopian leapt lightly ashore, and adjusting her guitar, which she played divinely, she passed through the town and made her way to the royal palace.
Izmir was coming down the steps at that very moment to take a walk by the sea, as he did every day, to see if his admiral had arrived, for he had had no news from him.
Starlight recognised the prince at once. Seeing that he wore a crown, and a cloak of black crêpe, she guessed that he was now the king. The only thing that surprised her was that he had a dove on his shoulder. She trembled as she stepped forward to greet him, dropping a curtsey at once alluring and delicate. The young king was charmed by the sparkling and graceful manners of this young Ethiopian woman; the magnificence of her dress convinced him that she must be a personage of importance. This was not all he felt: a secret intuition, known only to true lovers, made him curious, and he approached her eagerly, asking her what had brought her to his court.
Starlight was torn between the ecstasy of seeing her beloved again and the pain of knowing that he did not recognise her: she felt as if she must die. Yet joy, aided by her confidence in the fairy’s promises, won the day. Without replying to the king’s questions, she tuned her guitar and sang these words (you will see that she composed them on the spot):
I come from a distant shore
So that you shall weep no more.
Your own Starlight, sparkling white,
For your sake refused outright
A king, said to be quite smart,
Who had offered her his heart.
He was really very hurt,
But she’ll love until she dies
Izmir’s fair curls and dark eyes.
Your sweet spotless lady friend
Would much rather bite the dust
Than betray her lover’s trust.
There my little song must end.
Enchanted by this song, Izmir said to the Ethiopian: Lovely black lady, is it really true that you are acquainted with my dear Starlight, since you assure me that she is still alive?
Hardly had he said these words when the pigeon came flying down and landed on the princess’s head. The dove too fluttered its wings, and suddenly Fairy Ermine-White appeared. She touched the Ethiopian with her magic wand and thus spared her the trouble of replying, for she instantly became the faithful, the divine, the enchanting Princess Starlight. Izmir thought he would die of joy and astonishment. He flung himself at the feet of his mistress, who immediately made him rise and prostrate himself at the fairy’s feet instead.
Love one another always, my children, as you do now, she said, kissing them both. I have come here especially to bless your true devotion.
Izmir was beside himself; Starlight hardly knew what she was doing: the only feeling she could distinguish amid the whirl of emotion was that she wanted to express her gratitude to the fairy. The king took them both by the hand, and led them to his royal apartment. There, an even greater surprise awaited them: whom should they see but the King, the Queen and the Prince of Arabia the Blest! Ermine-White had brought them there in less than a second by means of that powerful white magic to which all nature must submit. In the most gracious manner imaginable, they consented to let Starlight the Beautiful marry Izmir the Constant, and the wedding was delayed only until the next morning. When Izmir was thus at last united with Starlight, he became as happy a husband as he had been a faithful lover, and they spent the rest of their lives amid endless pleasure and contentment.
The Great Green Worm
Translated by A. S. Byatt
MARIE-CATHERINE D’AULNOY
THERE WAS ONCE a great queen who gave birth to twin daughters, and immediately invited twelve neighbouring fairies to visit, and to make gifts to the little girls, as was the custom in those days – a very good custom, since the power of the fairies set to rights almost everything that nature had spoiled; although sometimes, it must be admitted, this power also spoiled what nature had made perfectly well.
Wonder Tales Page 16