Chapter 13

"I am going to see," responded the valiant champion. "Are there any German merchants in the city?"

"Yes," answered the princess in astonishment; "but why do you ask?"

"You will see," said the knight, and galloped off to the city of mourning.

He speedily returned with an immense mirror which he had purchased from a German dealer. This he rested against the trunk of a tree, and covered it with the princess's veil, placing her in front of it, and instructing her that when the dragon was near to her she was to pull off the veil and slip behind the glass. So saying, the knight retired behind an adjacent wall.

In a little while the fiery dragon appeared, and gradually drew near to the fair one, eying her with all the insolence and effrontery possible. When he was quite close, the princess, as she had been instructed by her champion, withdrew the veil, and slipping behind the mirror, disappeared from before the eyes of the fiery dragon, which remained stupefied at finding his amorous glances directed at a dragon similar to himself. He made a movement; his resemblance did the same. His eyes sparkled red and brilliant as two rubies; whilst those of his opponent gleamed like two carbuncles. This increased his fury; he erected his scales as a porcupine would its quills, and those of his rival likewise stood up. He opened his tremendous mouth, which would have been without parallel but for that of his opponent, who, far from being intimidated, opened an identical one. The dragon dashed furiously against his intrepid adversary, giving such an awful blow with his head against the mirror that he was completely stunned; and as he had broken the glass, and in every piece saw a piece of his own body, he fancied that with one blow he had dashed his rival to atoms.

The knight availed himself of this moment of confusion and stupefaction, and dashing forth impetuously from his retreat, with his good lance deprived the dragon of its life, and would have been ready to deprive it of a hundred lives had it possessed so many.

The delight and jubilation of the Madrid people may be imagined when they beheld the Knight of the Fish bearing on his saddle the beautiful princess, quite uninjured and as lively as a cricket, and the dragon, fastened by its neck to his sturdy charger, hanging dead and bloodless behind. It may, also, be readily guessed that after such an achievement they were unable to reward the gallant knight with anything but the princess's fair hand; and that they had wedding festivities, and banquets, and bull fights, and tilting matches, and all sorts of good things.

Some days after the marriage the Knight of the Fish said to his wife that he would like to look over the palace, which was so extensive that it covered a league of ground. They inspected the place together, and the task occupied them four days. On the fourth day they ascended the roof, and the knight was struck with amazement at the prospect. Never had he seen anything like it, nor ever could he have seen its equal, even if he had visited all Spain and the Empire of Morocco as well.

"What castle is that?" inquired the Knight of the Fish, "which I see standing in the distance, so solitary and sombre."

"That," responded the princess, "is the castle of Albastretch; it is enchanted, and no one is able to undo the enchantment; and no one of all those who have gone to it has ever been known to return."

The knight listened intently to this, and as he was valiant and adventurous, on the following morning he mounted his horse, seized his lance, and set out for the castle.

The castle was enough to set one's hair on end with fright to look at it; it was darker than a thunder-cloud, and as silent as death. But the Knight of the Fish knew nothing of fear, save by hearsay, and never turned his back on foe until he had conquered; so he took his cornet and blew it lustily. The sound startled all the slumbering echoes of the castle, so that they repeated it by heart, now nearer and now farther, sometimes softer and then louder; but no one stirred in the castle.

"Ah! what a castle!" shouted the knight. "Is there no one to see to a knight who craves shelter? Is there no governor, nor squire nor even a groom, to take my horse away?"

"Away! away! away!" clamoured the echoes.

"Why should I go away?" said the Knight of the Fish. "I shall not go back, no matter how much you sigh!"

"Ay! ay! ay! (_Alas! alas! alas!_)" groaned the echoes.

The knight grasped his spear and struck a loud blow on the door.

Then the portcullis was raised, and in the opening appeared the tip of an enormous nose, located between the sunken eyes and fallen-in mouth of an old woman uglier than sin.

"What do you want, impudent disturber?" she inquired, with a cracked voice.

"To enter," replied the knight. "Are you not able to afford me the enjoyment of some rest at this hour of the night? Yes or no?"

"No! no! no!" said the echoes.

Here the knight lifted his vizier, because he was warm; and the old woman, seeing how handsome he was, said to him:

"Come in, handsome youth; you shall be cared for and well looked after."

"After! after!" warned the echoes; but the knight was fear-less and entered, the old woman promising that he should fare well.

"Farewell, farewell!" sighed the echoes.

"Go on, old lady," said the knight.

"I am called Lady Berberisca," interposed the old woman, very crossly; "and I am the mistress of Albastretch."

"Wretch! wretch!" groaned the echoes.

"Won't you be silent, cursed chatterers?" exclaimed Lady Berberisca. "I am your humble servant," she continued, making a deep curtsey to the knight, "and if you like I will be your wife, and you shall live with me here as grand as a Pacha."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the echoes.

"Would you have me marry you? You must be a hundred. You are foolish, and mad as well."

"Well, well," said the echoes.

"What I want," said the knight, "is the registry of the castle, to examine and amend."

"Amen! amen!" sighed the echoes.

Lady Berberisca's pride was deeply wounded; she gave a hasty glance at the Knight of the Fish, and intimating to him that he should follow her, she showed him over the castle, where he beheld many strange things, but she did not afford him any opportunity of referring to them. The wicked old woman took him through an obscure corridor, where there was a trap-door, into which he fell and disappeared into an abyss, where his voice was added to the echoes, which were the voices of many other gallant and accomplished knights, whom the shameless old Berberisca had punished in the same manner for having despised her venerable charms.

* * * * *

Let us now turn to the other Knight of the Fish, who, after long travels, arrived at Madrid. As he entered the city gates the sentinels presented arms, the drums beat the royal march and several of the palace servitors surrounded him, saying that the princess was in constant tears through his prolonged absence, fearing that some misfortune had happened to him in the enchanted castle of Albastretch.

"It is necessary that I should pass for my brother," thought the knight, "to whom, it would appear, some good fortune has occurred. I must be quiet, and we shall see what will come to pass."

They carried him almost in triumph to the palace, where he found it easy to accept all the caresses and congratulations bestowed upon him by the king and the princess. They were eager to learn about his adventures, and what he had seen at the castle; but to the princess's inquiries he answered:

"I am not permitted to say a word about that until after I have been there once more."

"Are you thinking of revisiting that accursed castle? You are the only one who has yet returned from it."

"It is unavoidable; I am obliged to go there."

When they retired to rest, the knight placed his sword in the bed.

"Why do you do that?" inquired the princess.

"Because I have sworn not to sleep in a bed until after I have revisited Albastretch."

And on the following day he mounted his steed and took his way to the enchanted castle, much fearing that some misfortune had happened to his brother there. He arrived at the castle, and quickly saw the old woman's fiery nose appear at the portcullis.

No sooner did she see the knight than she became livid with fright, for she thought he was the dead knight come to life again. She began to invoke the object of her devotions, Beelzebub, most devoutly, and promised him all kinds of gifts if he would take from her view that vision of flesh and blood, drawn up from the abode of the dead.

"Ancient lady!" cried the recent arrival, "I have come to ask where a knight is who has been here?"

"Here! here! here!" responded the echoes.

"And what have you done with this knight, so accomplished in all things, and so skilled?"

"Killed! killed!" groaned the echoes.

On hearing this, and seeing the old hag running off, the Knight of the Fish, beside himself with rage, ran after her, and pierced her through with his sword, which remained fast in her body, so that she jumped about at the point of it like a parched pea in a frying-pan.

"Where is my brother, ugly old traitress?" demanded the knight.

"I can tell you," responded the witch, "but as I am at death's door, I will not let you know until you have resuscitated me."

"But how can I do this, perfidious witch?"

"Go to the garden," responded the old woman, "cut some evergreens, everlastings, and dragon's blood; with these plants make a decoction in a caldron, and then sprinkle some of it over me."

After saying this the old woman died, without uttering a prayer. The knight did all that the witch instructed him to do, and effectually resuscitated her, but uglier than ever, for her nose remained deadly white, and looked like an elephant's tusk. Then she was forced to tell the knight where his brother was; and down in the abyss he not only found him, but many other victims of the wicked Berberisca. He sprinkled them all with the decoction in the caldron, and they were all brought to life again, and to each person came an echo which had been his voice; and the first words they all uttered were:

"Accursed witch, merciless Berberisca!"

Then all those gallant knights, and many beautiful ladies whom the fiery old dragon--who was the witch's son--had carried there, gave thanks to the Knight of the Fish; and one of the most beautiful of the ladies gave him her hand; on seeing which, the wicked Berberisca died again with envy and spite.

_Dapplegrim_

Once on a time there was a rich couple who had twelve sons; but the youngest, when he was grown up, said he wouldn't stay any longer at home, but be off into the world to try his luck. His father and mother said he did very well at home, and had better stay where he was. But no, he couldn't rest; away he must and would go.

So at last they gave him leave. And when he had walked a good bit, he came to a king's palace, where he asked for a place, and got it.

Now, the daughter of the king of that land had been carried off into the hill by a Troll, and the king had no other children; so he and all his land were in great grief and sorrow, and the king gave his word that anyone who could set her free should have the Princess and half the kingdom. But there was no one who could do it, though many tried.

When the lad had been there a year or so, he longed to go home again, and see his father and mother, and back he went; but when he got home his father and mother were dead, and his brothers had shared all that the old people owned between them, so there was nothing left for the lad.

"Shan't I have anything at all, then, out of father's and mother's goods?" asked the lad.

"Who could tell you were still alive, when you've been wandering about so long?" said his brothers. "But all the same there are twelve mares up on the hill which we haven't yet shared amongst us; if you choose to take them for your share, you're welcome."

Yes, the lad was quite content; so he thanked his brothers, and went at once up on the hill, where the twelve mares were out at grass. And when he got up there he found them; and one of them had along with her a big dapple-gray foal, which was so sleek that the sun shone from its coat.

"A fine fellow you are, my little foal," said the lad.

"Yes," said the foal, "but you wait until another year has passed, and then see how big and sleek I'll be."

So the lad went home again, and when he came back the next year to look after his foal and mares, the foal was so sleek and fat that the sun shone from its coat, and it had grown so big the lad had hard work to mount it.

"Well, it's quite plain I lost nothing by leaving you to graze for a twelvemonth," said the lad to the yearling, "but now you're big enough to come along with me."

"No," said the colt, "I must bide here a year longer and then see how big and sleek I'll be by summer."

Yes, the lad did that; and next year when he went up on the hill to look after his colt and mares, each mare had her foal, but the dapple colt was so tall that the lad couldn't reach up to his crest when he wanted to feel how fat he was; and so sleek he was, too, that his coat glistened in the sunshine.

"Big and beautiful you were last year, my colt," said the lad, "but this year you're far grander. There's no such horse in the king's stable. But now you must come along with me."

"No," said Dapple again, "I must stay here one year more, to eat this beautiful grass, then just come and look at me when the summer comes."

So again the lad went away home.

But when he went up next year to look after Dapple and the mares, he was quite astonished. So tall, and stout, and sturdy, he never thought a horse could be; for Dapple had to lie down before the lad could bestride him, and it was hard work to climb up even then, although he lay flat; and his coat was so smooth and sleek that the sunbeams shone from it as from a looking-glass.

This time Dapple was willing enough to follow the lad, so he jumped up on his back, and when he came riding home to his brothers, they all clapped their hands and shouted, for such a horse they had never heard of or seen before.

"If you will only get me the best shoes you can for my horse, and the grandest saddle and bridle that are to be found," said the lad, "you may have my twelve mares that graze up on the hill yonder, and their twelve foals into the bargain." For you must know that this year every mare had her foal.

Yes, his brothers were ready to do that, and so the lad got such strong shoes under his horse that the stones flew high aloft as he rode away across the hills; and he had a golden saddle and a golden bridle, which gleamed and glistened a long way off.

"Now we're off to the king's palace," said Dapplegrim--that was his name; "and mind you ask the king for a good stable and fodder for me."

Yes, the lad said he would mind; he'd be sure not to forget; and when he rode off from his brothers' house, you may be sure it wasn't long, with such a horse under him, before he got to the king's palace.

When he came there the king was standing on the steps, and stared and stared at the man who came riding along.

"Nay, nay," said he, "such a man and such a horse I never saw in all my life."

But when the lad asked if he could resume his place in the king's household, the king was so glad he was ready to jump and dance as he stood on the steps.

There was no reason, the king said, why the lad should not come back.

"Ay," said the lad, "but I must have good stable-room for my horse, and fodder that one can trust."

Yes, he should have meadow-hay and oats, as much as his horse could cram, and all the other knights had to lead their steeds out of the stable that Dapplegrim might stand alone, and have it all to himself.

But it wasn't long before all the others in the king's household began to be jealous of the lad, and there was no end to the bad things they would have done to him, if they had only dared. At last they thought of telling the king that he had been boasting he was man enough to set the king's daughter free--whom the Troll had long since carried away into the hill--if he only chose. The king called the lad before him, and said he had heard what the lad had said, so now he must go and do it. If he succeeded, the king's daughter and half the kingdom should be his, and that promise would be faithfully kept; if he didn't, he should be killed.

The lad kept on saying he never said any such thing; but it was no good, the king wouldn't even listen to him; and so the end of it was he was forced to say he'd go and try.

So he went into the stable, down in the mouth and heavy-hearted, and then Dapplegrim asked him at once why he was in such doleful dumps.

Then the lad told him all, and how he couldn't tell which way to turn, and he said:

"As for setting the Princess free, that's downright nonsense."

"Oh, but it might be done, perhaps," said Dapplegrim. "But you must first have me well shod. You must go and ask for ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel for the shoes; and one smith to hammer and another to hold."

Yes, the lad did that, and got for answer, "Yes." He got both the iron and the steel, and the smith, and so Dapplegrim was shod both strong and well, and off went the lad from the courtyard in a cloud of dust.

But when he came to the hill into which the Princess had been carried, the pinch was how to get up the steep wall of rock where the Troll's cave was in which the Princess had been hid. For you must know the hill stood straight up and down right on end, as upright as a house wall, and as smooth as a sheet of glass.

The first time the lad went at it he got a little way up; but then Dapple's forelegs slipped, and down they went again, with a sound like thunder on the hill.

The second time he rode at it he got some way further up; but then one foreleg slipped, and down they went with a crash like a landslip.

But the third time Dapple said:

"Now we must show our mettle," and went at it again till the stones flew heaven-high about them, and so they got up.

Then the lad rode right into the cave at full speed, and caught up the Princess, and threw her over his saddle-bow, and out and down again before the Troll had time even to get on his legs; and so the Princess was freed.

When the lad came back to the palace the king was both happy and glad to get his daughter back, that you may well believe; but somehow or other, though I don't know how, the others about the court had so brought it about that the king was angry with the lad after all.

"Thanks you shall have for freeing my Princess," said he to the lad, when he brought the Princess into the hall and made his bow.

"She ought to be mine as well as yours; for you're a word-fast man, I hope," said the lad.

"Ay, ay!" said the king, "have her you shall, since I said it, but first of all you must make the sun shine into my palace hall."

Now you must know there was a high, steep ridge of rock close outside the windows, which threw such a shade over the hall that never a sunbeam shone into it.

"That wasn't in our bargain," answered the lad; "but I suppose I must do what you command. I must e'en go and try my luck, for the Princess I must and will have."

So down he went to Dapple, and told him what the king wanted; and Dapplegrim thought it might easily be done, but first of all he must be newly shod; and for that, ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel besides were needed; and two smiths, one to hammer and the other to hold, and then they'd soon get the sun to shine into the palace hall.

So when the lad asked for all these things, he got them at once--the king couldn't say nay for very shame; and so Dapplegrim got new shoes, and such shoes! Then the lad jumped upon his back, and off they went again; and for every leap that Dapplegrim gave, down sank the ridge fifteen feet into the earth, and so they went on till there was nothing left of the ridge for the king to see.

When the lad got back to the king's palace, he asked the king if the Princess was not his now; for now no one could say that the sun didn't shine into the hall. But then the others whispered to the king again, and he answered that the lad should have her, of course; he had never thought of anything else; but first of all he must get as grand a horse for the bride to ride on to church as the bridegroom had himself.

The lad said the king hadn't spoken a word about this before, and that he thought he had now fairly earned the Princess; but the king held to his own; and more, if the lad couldn't do that he should lose his life; that was what the king said. So the lad went down to the stable in doleful dumps, as you may well fancy, and there he told Dapplegrim all about it; how the king had laid that task upon him, to find the bride as good a horse as the bridegroom had himself, else he would lose his life.

"But that's not so easy," he said, "for your match isn't to be found in the wide world."

"Oh, yes, I have a match," said Dapplegrim; "but he lives a long way from here, and rules over a great country. Still, we'll try. And now you must go up to the king and ask for new shoes for me, ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel; and two smiths, one to hammer and one to hold; and mind you see that the points and ends of those shoes are sharp; and twelve sacks of rye, and twelve sacks of barley, and twelve roasted oxen we must have with us; and mind, we must have the twelve ox-hides, with twelve hundred spikes driven into each; and, let me see, a big tar-barrel--that's all we want."

So the lad went up to the king and asked for all that Dapplegrim required, and the king again thought he couldn't say nay, for shame's sake, and so the lad got all he wanted.

Well, he jumped up on Dapplegrim's back, and rode away from the palace, and when he had ridden far over hill and heath, Dapple asked:

"Do you hear anything?"

"Yes, I hear an awful hissing and rustling up in the air," said the lad; "I think I'm getting afraid."

"That's all the wild birds that fly through the wood. They are sent to stop us; but just cut a hole in the corn sacks, and then they'll have so much to do with the corn, they'll forget us, quite."

Yes, the lad did that; he cut holes in the corn sacks, so that the rye and the barley ran out on all sides. Then all the wild birds came flying round them so thick that the sunbeams grew dark, but as soon as they saw the corn they couldn't keep to their purpose, but flew down and began to pick and scratch at the rye and barley; and after that they began to fight amongst themselves. As for Dapplegrim and the lad, they forgot all about them, and did them no harm.

So the lad rode on and on--far, far over mountain and dale, over sand-hills and moor. Then Dapplegrim began to prick up his ears again, and at last he asked the lad if he heard anything.

"Yes, now I hear such an ugly rushing and howling in the wood all round, it makes me quite afraid."

"Ah!" said Dapplegrim, "that's all the wild beasts that range through the wood, and they're sent out to stop us. But just cast out the twelve carcasses of the oxen; that will give them enough to do, and so they'll forget us outright."

Yes, the lad cast out the carcasses, and then all the wild beasts in the wood--bears and wolves and lions--came after them. But when they saw the carcasses, they began to fight for them amongst themselves, till blood flowed in streams; but Dapple and the lad they quite forgot.

So the lad rode far away, and they changed the landscape many, many times, for Dapplegrim didn't let the grass grow under him, as you may imagine. At last Dapple gave a great neigh.

"Do you hear anything?" he said.

"Yes, I hear something like a colt neighing loudly a long, long way off," answered the lad.

"That's a full-grown colt, then," said Dapplegrim, "if we hear him neigh so loud such a long way off."