Chapter 35
So all the Princesses came together to that Castle, which was called _Soria Moria Castle_, and they were glad and happy as they had never been in all their lives before, and they all were fond of Halvor and Halvor of them, and he might choose the one he liked best for his bride; but the youngest was fondest of him of all the three.
But there after a while, Halvor went about, and was so strange and dull and silent. Then the Princesses asked him what he lacked, and if he didn’t like to live with them any longer? Yes, he did, for they had enough and to spare, and he was well off in every way, but still somehow or other he did so long to go home, for his father and mother were alive, and them he had such a great wish to see.
Well, they thought that might be done easily enough.
“You shall go thither and come back hither, safe and unscathed, if you will only follow our advice”, said the Princesses.
Yes, he’d be sure to mind all they said. So they dressed him up till he was as grand as a king’s son, and then they set a ring on his finger, and that was such a ring, he could wish himself thither and hither with it; but they told him to be sure not to take it off, and not to name their names, for there would be an end of all his bravery, and then he’d never see them more.
“If I only stood at home I’d be glad”, said Halvor; and it was done as he had wished. Then stood Halvor at his father’s cottage door before he knew a word about it. Now it was about dusk at even, and so, when they saw such a grand stately lord walk in, the old couple got so afraid they began to bow and scrape. Then Halvor asked if he couldn’t stay there, and have a lodging there that night. No; that he couldn’t.
“We can’t do it at all”, they said, “for we haven’t this thing or that thing which such a lord is used to have; ’twere best your lordship went up to the farm, no long way off, for you can see the chimneys, and there they have lots of everything.”
Halvor wouldn’t hear of it—he wanted to stop; but the old couple stuck to their own, that he had better go to the farmer’s; there he would get both meat and drink; as for them, they hadn’t even a chair to offer him to sit down on.
“No”, said Halvor, “I won’t go up there till to-morrow early, but let the just stay here to-night; worst come to the worst, I can sit in the chimney-corner.”
Well, they couldn’t say anything against that; so Halvor sat down by the ingle, and began to poke about in the ashes, just as he used to do when he lay at home in old days, and stretched his lazy bones.
Well, they chattered and talked about many things; and they told Halvor about this thing and that; and so he asked them if they had never had any children.
“Yes, yes, they had once a lad whose name was Halvor, but they didn’t know whither he had wandered; they couldn’t even tell whether he were dead or alive.”
“Couldn’t it be me, now?” said Halvor.
“Let me see; I could tell him well enough”, said the old wife, and rose up. “Our Halvor was so lazy and dull, he never did a thing; and besides, he was so ragged, that one tatter took hold of the next tatter on him. No; there never was the making of such a fine fellow in him as you are, master.”
A little while after the old wife went to the hearth to poke up the fire, and when the blaze fell on Halvor’s face, just as when he was at home of old poking about in the ashes, she knew him at once.
“Ah! but is it you after all, Halvor?” she cried; and then there was such joy for the old couple, there was no end to it; and he was forced to tell how he had fared, and the old dame was so fond and proud of him, nothing would do but he must go up at once to the farmer’s, and show himself to the lassies, who had always looked down on him. And off she went first, and Halvor followed after. So, when she got up there, she told them all how her Halvor had come home again, and now they should only just see how grand he was, for, said she, “he looks like nothing but a king’s son”.
“All very fine”, said the lassies, and tossed up their heads. “We’ll be bound he’s just the same beggarly ragged boy he always was.”
Just then in walked Halvor, and then the lassies were all so taken aback, they forgot their sarks in the ingle, where they were sitting darning their clothes, and ran out in their smocks. Well, when they were got back again, they were so shamefaced they scarce dared look at Halvor, towards whom they had always been proud and haughty.
“Aye, aye”, said Halvor, “you always thought yourselves so pretty and neat, no one could come near you; but now you should just see the eldest Princess I have set free; against her you look just like milkmaids, and the midmost is prettier still; but the youngest, who is my sweetheart, she’s fairer than both sun and moon. Would to Heaven she were only here”, said Halvor, “then you’d see what you would see.”
He had scarce uttered these words before there they stood, but then he felt so sorry, for now what they had said came into his mind. Up at the farm there was a great feast got ready for the Princesses, and much was made of them, but they wouldn’t stop there.
“No; we want to go down to your father and mother”, they said to Halvor; “and so we’ll go out now and look about us.”
So he went down with them, and they came to a great lake just outside the farm. Close by the water was such a lovely green bank; here the Princesses said they would sit and rest a while; they thought it so sweet to sit down and look over the water.
So they sat down there, and when they had sat a while, the youngest Princess said:
“I may as well comb your hair a little, Halvor.”
Yes, Halvor laid his head on her lap, and so she combed his bonny locks, and it wasn’t long before Halvor fell fast asleep. Then she took the ring from his finger, and put another in its stead; and so she said:
“Now hold me all together! and now would we were all in SORIA MORIA CASTLE.”
So when Halvor woke up, he could very well tell that he had lost the Princesses, and began to weep and wail; and he was so downcast, they couldn’t comfort him at all. In spite of all his father and mother said, he wouldn’t stop there, but took farewell of them, and said he was safe not to see them again; for if he couldn’t find the Princesses again, he thought it not worth while to live.
Well, he had still three hundred dollars left, so he put them into his pocket, and set out on his way. So, when he had walked a while, he met a man with a tidy horse, and he wanted to buy it, and began to chaffer with the man.
“Aye”, said the man, “to tell the truth, I never thought of selling him; but if we could strike a bargain, perhaps——”
“What do you want for him”, asked Halvor.
“I didn’t give much for him, nor is he worth much; he’s a brave horse to ride, but he can’t draw at all; still he’s strong enough to carry your knapsack and you too, turn and turn about”, said the man.
At last they agreed on the price, and Halvor laid the knapsack on him, and so he walked a bit, and rode a bit, turn and turn about. At night he came to a green plain where stood a great tree, at the roots of which he sat down. There he let the horse loose, but he didn’t lie down to sleep, but opened his knapsack and took a meal. At peep of day off he set again, for he could take no rest. So he rode and walked and walked and rode the whole day through the wide wood, where there were so many green spots and glades that shone so bright and lovely between the trees. He didn’t know at all where he was or whither he was going, but he gave himself no more time to rest than when his horse cropped a bit of grass, and he took a snack out of his knapsack when they came to one of those green glades. So he went on walking and riding by turns, and as for the wood there seemed to be no end to it.
But at dusk the next day he saw a light gleaming away through the trees.
“Would there were folk hereaway”, thought Halvor, “that I might warm myself a bit and get a morsel to keep body and soul together.”
When he got up to it, he saw the light came from a wretched little hut, and through the window he saw an old old couple inside. They were as grey-headed as a pair of doves, and the old wife had such a nose! why, it was so long she used it for a poker to stir the fire as she sat in the ingle.
“Good evening”, said Halvor.
“Good evening”, said the old wife.
“But what errand can you have in coming hither?” she went on, “for no Christian folk have been here these hundred years and more.”
Well, Halvor told her all about himself, and how he wanted to get to SORIA MORIA CASTLE, and asked if she knew the way thither.
“No”, said the old wife, “that I don’t, but see now, here comes the Moon, I’ll ask her, she’ll know all about it, for doesn’t she shine on everything?”
So when the Moon stood clear and bright over the tree-tops, the old wife went out.
“THOU MOON, THOU MOON”, she screamed, “canst thou tell me the way to SORIA MORIA CASTLE?”
“No”, said the Moon, “that I can’t, for the last time I shone there a cloud stood before me.”
“Wait a bit still”, said the old wife to Halvor, “by and bye comes the West Wind; he’s sure to know it, for he puffs and blows round every corner.”
“Nay, nay”, said the old wife when she went out again, “you don’t mean to say you’ve got a horse too; just turn the poor beastie loose in our ‘toun’, and don’t let him stand there and starve to death at the door.”
Then she ran on:
“But won’t you swop him away to me?—we’ve got an old pair of boots here, with which you can take twenty miles at each stride; those you shall have for your horse, and so you’ll get all the sooner to SORIA MORIA CASTLE.”
That Halvor was willing to do at once; and the old wife was so glad at having the horse, she was ready to dance and skip for joy.
“For now”, she said, “I shall be able to ride to church. I too, think of that.”
As for Halvor, he had no rest, and wanted to be off at once, but the old wife said there was no hurry.
“Lie down on the bench with you and sleep a bit, for we’ve no bed to offer you, and I’ll watch and wake you when the West Wind comes.”
So after a while up came the West Wind, roaring and howling along till the walls creaked and groaned again.
Out ran the old wife.
“THOU WEST WIND, THOU WEST WIND! Canst thou tell me the way to SORIA MORIA CASTLE? Here’s one who wants to get thither.”
“Yes, I know it very well”, said the West Wind, and now I’m just off thither to dry clothes for the wedding that’s to be; if he’s swift of foot he can go along with me.”
Out ran Halvor.
“You’ll have to stretch your legs if you mean to keep up”, said the West Wind.
So off he set over field and hedge, and hill and fell, and Halvor had hard work to keep up.
“Well”, said the West Wind, “now I’ve no time to stay with you any longer, for I’ve got to go away yonder and tear down a strip of spruce wood first before I go to the bleaching-ground to dry the clothes; but if you go alongside the hill you’ll come to a lot of lassies standing washing clothes, and then you’ve not far to go to SORIA MORIA CASTLE.”
In a little while Halvor came upon the lassies who stood washing, and they asked if he had seen anything of the West Wind who was to come and dry the clothes for the wedding. “Aye, aye, that I have”, said Halvor, “he’s only gone to tear down a strip of spruce wood. It’ll not be long before he’s here”, and then he asked them the way to SORIA MORIA CASTLE.
So they put him into the right way, and when he got to the Castle it was full of folk and horses; so full it made one giddy to look at them. But Halvor was so ragged and torn from having followed the West Wind through bush and brier and bog, that he kept on one side, and wouldn’t show himself till the last day when the bridal feast was to be.
So when all, as was then right and fitting, were to drink the bride and bridegroom’s health and wish them luck, and when the cupbearer was to drink to them all again, both knights and squires, last of all he came in turn to Halvor. He drank their health, but let the ring which the Princess had put upon his finger as he lay by the lake fall into the glass, and bade the cupbearer go and greet the bride and hand her the glass.
Then up rose the Princess from the board at once.
“Who is most worthy to have one of us”, she said, “he that has set us free, or he that here sits by me as bridegroom?”
Well they all said there could be but one voice and will as to that, and when Halvor heard that he wasn’t long in throwing off his beggar’s rags, and arraying himself as bridegroom.
“Aye, aye, here is the right one after all”, said the youngest Princess as soon as she saw him, and so she tossed the other one out of the window, and held her wedding with Halvor.
BRUIN AND REYNARD
The Bear and the Fox had once bought a firkin of butter together; they were to have it at Yule and hid it till then under a thick spruce bush.
After that they went a little way off and lay down on a sunny bank to sleep. So when they had lain a while the Fox got up, shook himself, and bawled out “yes”.
Then he ran off straight to the firkin and ate a good third part of it. But when he came back, and the Bear asked him where he had been, since he was so fat about the paunch, he said:
“Don’t you believe then that I was bidden to barsel, to a christening feast.”
“So, so”, said the Bear, “and pray what was the bairn’s name.”
“Just-begun”, said the Fox.
So they lay down to sleep again. In a little while up jumped the Fox again, bawled out “yes”, and ran off to the firkin.
This time too he ate a good lump. When he came back, and the Bear asked him again where he had been, he said:
“Oh, wasn’t I bidden to barsel again, don’t you think.”
“And pray what was the bairn’s name this time”, asked the Bear.
“Half-eaten”, said the Fox.
The Bear thought that a very queer name, but he hadn’t wondered long over it before he began to yawn and gape and fell asleep. Well, he hadn’t lain long before the Fox jumped up as he had done twice before, bawled out “yes” and ran off to the firkin, which this time he cleared right out. When he got back he had been bidden to barsel again, and when the Bear wanted to know the bairn’s name, he answered:
“Licked-to-the-bottom.”
After that they lay down again, and slept a long time; but then they were to go to the firkin to look at the butter, and when they found it eaten up, the Bear threw the blame on the Fox, and the Fox on the Bear; and each said the one had been at the firkin while the other slept.
“Well, well”, said Reynard, “we’ll soon find this out, which of us has eaten the butter. We’ll just lay down in the sunshine, and he whose cheeks and chaps are greasiest when we wake, he is the thief.”
Yes, that trial Bruin was ready to stand; and as he knew in his heart he had never so much as tasted the butter, he lay down without a care to sleep in the sun.
Then Reynard stole off to the firkin for a morsel of butter, which stuck there in a crack, and then he crept back to the Bear, and greased his chaps and cheeks with it; and then he, too, lay down to sleep as if nothing had happened.
So when they both woke, the sun had melted the butter, and the Bear’s whiskers were all greasy; and so it was Bruin after all, and no one else, who had eaten the butter.
TOM TOTHERHOUSE
Once on a time there was a Goody who had a deaf husband. A good, easy man he was, but that was just why she thought more of the lad next door, whom they called “Tom Totherhouse”. Now the lad that served the deaf man saw very well that the two had something between them, and one day he said to the Goody:
“Dare you wager ten dollars, mother, that I don’t make you lay bare your own shame?”
“Yes I dare”, said she; and so they wagered ten dollars. So one day, while the lad and the deaf man stood thrashing in the barn, the lad saw that Tom Totherhouse came to see the Goody. He said nothing, but a good while before dinnertime he turned toward the barn-door, and bawled out “Halloa!”
“What! are we to go home already?” said the man, who hadn’t given any heed to what the lad did.
“Yes, we must, since mother calls”, said the lad.
So when they got into the passage, the lad began to hem and cough, that the Goody might get Tom Totherhouse out of the way. But when they came into the room, there stood a whole bowl of custards on the table.
“Nay, nay, mother”, cried out the man; “shall we have custards to-day?”
“Yes, that you shall, dear”, said the Goody; but she was as sour as verjuice, and as cross as two sticks.
So when they had eaten and drank all the good cheer up, off they went again to their work, and the Goody said to Tom:
“Deil take that lad’s sharp nose, this was all his fault; but now you must be off as fast as you can, and I’ll come down to you in the mead with a snack between meals.”
This the lad stood outside in the passage and listened to.
“Do you know, father”, he said, “I think we’d best go down into the hollow and put our fence to rights, which is blown down, before the neighbours’ swine get in and root up our meadow.”
“Aye, aye, let’s go and do it”, said the man; for he did all he was told, good, easy man.
So when the afternoon was half spent, down came the Goody sneaking along into the mead, with something under her apron.
“Nay, nay, mother”, said the man, “it can’t be you any longer; are we to have a snack between meals too?”
“Yes, yes, that you shall”, she said; but she was sourer and wilder than ever.
So they made merry, and crammed themselves with bannocks and butter, and had a drop of brandy into the bargain.
“I’ll go off to Tom Totherhouse with a snack—shan’t I, mother?” said the lad. “He’s had nothing between meals, I’ll be bound.”
“Ah! do; there’s a good fellow”, said the Goody, who all at once got as mild as milk.
As he went along the lad broke a bannock to bits, and dropped the crumbs here and there as he walked. But when he got to Tom Totherhouse he said:
“Now, just you take care, for our old cock has found out that you come too often to see our Goody. He won’t stand it any longer, and has sworn to drive his axe into you as soon as ever he can set eyes on you.”
As for Tom, he was so frightened he scarce knew which way to turn, and the lad went back again to his master.
“There’s something wrong”, he said, “with Tom’s plough, and he begs you to be so good as to take your axe, and go and see if you can’t set it right.”
Yes, the man set off with his axe, but Tom Totherhouse had scarce caught sight of him before he took to his heels as fast as he could. The man turned and twisted the plough round and round, and looked at it on every side, and when he couldn’t see anything wrong with it he went off home again; but on the way he picked up the bits of broken bannock which the lad had let fall. His old dame stood in the meadow and looked at him as he did this for a while, and wondered and wondered what it could be her husband was gathering up.
“Oh, I know”, said the lad, “master’s picking up stones, I’ll be bound; for he has marked how often this Tom Totherhouse runs over here; and the old fellow won’t stand it any longer; and now he has sworn to stone mother to death.”
Off went the Goody as fast as her legs could carry her.
“What in the world is it that mother is running after now?” asked the man, when he reached the spot where she had stood.
“Oh”, said the lad, “maybe the house at home is on fire!”
So there ran the husband behind and the Goody before; and as she ran she screeched out:
“Ah! ah! don’t stone me to death; don’t stone me to death! and I’ll give you my word never to let Tom Totherhouse come near me again.”
“Now the ten dollars are mine”, bawled out the lad; and so they were.
LITTLE ANNIE THE GOOSE-GIRL
Once on a time there was a King who had so many geese he was forced to have a lassie to tend them and watch them; her name was Annie, and so they called her “Annie the Goose-girl”. Now you must know there was a King’s son from England who went out to woo; and as he came along Ann sat herself down in his way.
“Sitting all alone there, you little Annie?” said the King’s son.
“Yes”, said little Annie, “here I sit and put stitch to stitch and patch on patch. I’m waiting to-day for the King’s son from England.”
“Him you mustn’t look to have”, said the Prince.
“Nay, but if I’m to have him”, said little Annie, “have him I shall, after all.”
And now limners were sent out into all lands and realms to take the likenesses of the fairest Princesses, and the Prince was to chose between them. So he thought so much of one of them, that he set out to seek her, and wanted to wed her, and he was glad and happy when he got her for his sweetheart.
But now I must tell you this Prince had a stone with him which he laid by his bedside, and that stone knew everything, and when the Princess came little Annie told her, if so be she’d had a sweetheart before, or didn’t feel herself quite free from anything which she didn’t wish the Prince to know, she’d better not step on that stone which lay by the bedside.
“If you do, it will tell him all about you”, said little Annie.
So when the Princess heard that she was dreadfully downcast, and she fell upon the thought to ask Annie if she would get into bed that night in her stead and lie down by the Prince’s side; and then when he was sound asleep, Annie should get out and the Princess should get in, and so when he woke up in the morning he would find the right bride by his side.
So they did that, and when Annie the goose-girl came and stepped upon the stone the Prince asked:
“Who is this that steps into my bed?”
“A maid pure and bright”, said the stone, and so they lay down to sleep; but when the night wore on the Princess came and lay down in Annie’s stead.
But next morning, when they were to get up, the Prince asked the stone again:
“Who is this that steps out of my bed?”
“One that has had three bairns”, said the stone. When the Prince heard that he wouldn’t have her, you may know very well; and so he packed her off home again, and took another sweetheart.
But as he went to see her, little Annie went and sat down in his way again.
“Sitting all alone there, little Annie, the goose-girl”, said the Prince.
“Yes, here I sit, and put stitch to stitch, and patch on patch; for I’m waiting to-day for the king’s son from England”, said Annie.
“Oh! you mustn’t look to have him”, said the king’s son.
“Nay, but if I’m to have him, have him I shall, after all”; that was what Annie thought.
Well, it was the same story over again with the Prince; only this time, when his bride got up in the morning, the stone said she’d had six bairns.
So the Prince wouldn’t have her either, but sent her about her business; but still he thought he’d try once more if he couldn’t find one who was pure and spotless; and he sought far and wide in many lands, till at last he found one he thought he might trust. But when he went to see her, little Annie the goose-girl had put herself in his way again.
“Sitting all alone there, you little Annie, the goose-girl”, said the Prince.
“Yes, here I sit, and put stitch to stitch, and patch on patch; for I’m waiting to-day for the king’s son from England”, said Annie.
“Him you mustn’t look to have”, said the Prince.
“Nay, but if I’m to have him, have him I shall, after all”, said little Annie.
So when the Princess came, little Annie the goose-girl told her the same as she had told the other two, if she’d had any sweetheart before, or if there was anything else she didn’t wish the Prince to know, she mustn’t tread on the stone that the Prince had put at his bedside; for, said she:
“It tells him everything.”