The Travelling Companion
by
Hans Christian Andersen
(1835)
Poor John was very sad; for his father was so ill, he had no hope of his
recovery. John sat alone with the sick man in the little room, and the lamp
had nearly burnt out; for it was late in the night.
"You have been a good son, John," said the sick father, "and God will
help you on in the world." He looked at him, as he spoke, with mild, earnest
eyes, drew a deep sigh, and died; yet it appeared as if he still slept.
John wept bitterly. He had no one in the wide world now; neither father,
mother, brother, nor sister. Poor John! he knelt down by the bed, kissed his
dead father's hand, and wept many, many bitter tears. But at last his eyes
closed, and he fell asleep with his head resting against the hard bedpost.
Then he dreamed a strange dream; he thought he saw the sun shining upon
him, and his father alive and well, and even heard him laughing as he used
to do when he was very happy. A beautiful girl, with a golden crown on her
head, and long, shining hair, gave him her hand; and his father said, "See
what a bride you have won. She is the loveliest maiden on the whole earth."
Then he awoke, and all the beautiful things vanished before his eyes, his
father lay dead on the bed, and he was all alone. Poor John!
During the following week the dead man was buried. The son walked
behind the coffin which contained his father, whom he so dearly loved, and
would never again behold. He heard the earth fall on the coffin-lid, and
watched it till only a corner remained in sight, and at last that also
disappeared. He felt as if his heart would break with its weight of sorrow, till
those who stood round the grave sang a psalm, and the sweet, holy tones
brought tears into his eyes, which relieved him. The sun shone brightly
down on the green trees, as if it would say, "You must not be so sorrowful,
John. Do you see the beautiful blue sky above you? Your father is up there,
and he prays to the loving Father of all, that you may do well in the future."
"I will always be good," said John, "and then I shall go to be with my
father in heaven. What joy it will be when we see each other again! How
much I shall have to relate to him, and how many things he will be able to
explain to me of the delights of heaven, and teach me as he once did on earth.
Oh, what joy it will be!"
He pictured it all so plainly to himself, that he smiled even while the tears
ran down his cheeks.
The little birds in the chestnut-trees twittered, "Tweet, tweet;" they were
so happy, although they had seen the funeral; but they seemed as if they
knew that the dead man was now in heaven, and that he had wings much
larger and more beautiful than their own; and he was happy now, because he
had been good here on earth, and they were glad of it. John saw them fly
away out of the green trees into the wide world, and he longed to fly with
them; but first he cut out a large wooden cross, to place on his father's grave;
and when he brought it there in the evening, he found the grave decked out
with gravel and flowers. Strangers had done this; they who had known the
good old father who was now dead, and who had loved him very much.
Early the next morning, John packed up his little bundle of clothes, and
placed all his money, which consisted of fifty dollars and a few shillings, in
his girdle; with this he determined to try his fortune in the world. But first he
went into the churchyard; and, by his father's grave, he offered up a prayer,
and said, "Farewell."
As he passed through the fields, all the flowers looked fresh and beautiful
in the warm sunshine, and nodded in the wind, as if they wished to say,
"Welcome to the green wood, where all is fresh and bright."
Then John turned to have one more look at the old church, in which he
had been christened in his infancy, and where his father had taken him every
Sunday to hear the service and join in singing the psalms. As he looked at the
old tower, he espied the ringer standing at one of the narrow openings, with
his little pointed red cap on his head, and shading his eyes from the sun with
his bent arm. John nodded farewell to him, and the little ringer waved his
red cap, laid his hand on his heart, and kissed his hand to him a great many
times, to show that he felt kindly towards him, and wished him a prosperous
journey.
John continued his journey, and thought of all the wonderful things he
should see in the large, beautiful world, till he found himself farther away
from home than ever he had been before. He did not even know the names of
the places he passed through, and could scarcely understand the language of
the people he met, for he was far away, in a strange land. The first night he
slept on a haystack, out in the fields, for there was no other bed for him; but
it seemed to him so nice and comfortable that even a king need not wish for a
better. The field, the brook, the haystack, with the blue sky above, formed a
beautiful sleeping-room. The green grass, with the little red and white
flowers, was the carpet; the elder-bushes and the hedges of wild roses looked
like garlands on the walls; and for a bath he could have the clear, fresh water
of the brook; while the rushes bowed their heads to him, to wish him good
morning and good evening. The moon, like a large lamp, hung high up in the
blue ceiling, and he had no fear of its setting fire to his curtains. John slept
here quite safely all night; and when he awoke, the sun was up, and all the
little birds were singing round him, "Good morning, good morning. Are you
not up yet?"
It was Sunday, and the bells were ringing for church. As the people went
in, John followed them; he heard God's word, joined in singing the psalms,
and listened to the preacher. It seemed to him just as if he were in his own
church, where he had been christened, and had sung the psalms with his
father. Out in the churchyard were several graves, and on some of them the
grass had grown very high. John thought of his father's grave, which he
knew at last would look like these, as he was not there to weed and attend to
it. Then he set to work, pulled up the high grass, raised the wooden crosses
which had fallen down, and replaced the wreaths which had been blown
away from their places by the wind, thinking all the time, "Perhaps some one
is doing the same for my father's grave, as I am not there to do it "
Outside the church door stood an old beggar, leaning on his crutch. John
gave him his silver shillings, and then he continued his journey, feeling
lighter and happier than ever. Towards evening, the weather became very
stormy, and he hastened on as quickly as he could, to get shelter; but it was
quite dark by the time he reached a little lonely church which stood on a hill.
"I will go in here," he said, "and sit down in a corner; for I am quite
tired,
and want rest."
So he went in, and seated himself; then he folded his hands, and offered
up his evening prayer, and was soon fast asleep and dreaming, while the
thunder rolled and the lightning flashed without. When he awoke, it was still
night; but the storm had ceased, and the moon shone in upon him through
the windows. Then he saw an open coffin standing in the centre of the
church, which contained a dead man, waiting for burial. John was not at all
timid; he had a good conscience, and he knew also that the dead can never
injure any one. It is living wicked men who do harm to others. Two such
wicked persons stood now by the dead man, who had been brought to the
church to be buried. Their evil intentions were to throw the poor dead body
outside the church door, and not leave him to rest in his coffin.
"Why do you do this?" asked John, when he saw what they were going to
do; "it is very wicked. Leave him to rest in peace, in Christ's name."
"Nonsense," replied the two dreadful men. "He has cheated us; he owed
us money which he could not pay, and now he is dead we shall not get a
penny; so we mean to have our revenge, and let him lie like a dog outside the
church door."
"I have only fifty dollars," said John, "it is all I possess in the world,
but I
will give it to you if you will promise me faithfully to leave the dead man in
peace. I shall be able to get on without the money; I have strong and healthy
limbs, and God will always help me."
"Why, of course," said the horrid men, "if you will pay his debt we will
both promise not to touch him. You may depend upon that;" and then they
took the money he offered them, laughed at him for his good nature, and
went their way.
Then he laid the dead body back in the coffin, folded the hands, and took
leave of it; and went away contentedly through the great forest. All around
him he could see the prettiest little elves dancing in the moonlight, which
shone through the trees. They were not disturbed by his appearance, for they
knew he was good and harmless among men. They are wicked people only
who can never obtain a glimpse of fairies. Some of them were not taller than
the breadth of a finger, and they wore golden combs in their long, yellow
hair. They were rocking themselves two together on the large dew-drops
with which the leaves and the high grass were sprinkled. Sometimes the
dew-drops would roll away, and then they fell down between the stems of
the long grass, and caused a great deal of laughing and noise among the
other little people. It was quite charming to watch them at play. Then they
sang songs, and John remembered that he had learnt those pretty songs
when he was a little boy. Large speckled spiders, with silver crowns on their
heads, were employed to spin suspension bridges and palaces from one
hedge to another, and when the tiny drops fell upon them, they glittered in
the moonlight like shining glass. This continued till sunrise. Then the little
elves crept into the flower-buds, and the wind seized the bridges and
palaces, and fluttered them in the air like cobwebs.
As John left the wood, a strong man's voice called after him, "Hallo,
comrade, where are you travelling?"
"Into the wide world," he replied; "I am only a poor lad, I have neither
father nor mother, but God will help me."
"I am going into the wide world also," replied the stranger; "shall we
keep each other company?"
"With all my heart," he said, and so they went on together. Soon they
began to like each other very much, for they were both good; but John found
out that the stranger was much more clever than himself. He had travelled
all over the world, and could describe almost everything. The sun was high
in the heavens when they seated themselves under a large tree to eat their
breakfast, and at the same moment an old woman came towards them. She
was very old and almost bent double. She leaned upon a stick and carried on
her back a bundle of firewood, which she had collected in the forest; her
apron was tied round it, and John saw three great stems of fern and some
willow twigs peeping out. just as she came close up to them, her foot slipped
and she fell to the ground screaming loudly; poor old woman, she had
broken her leg! John proposed directly that they should carry the old woman
home to her cottage; but the stranger opened his knapsack and took out a
box, in which he said he had a salve that would quickly make her leg well
and strong again, so that she would be able to walk home herself, as if her leg
had never been broken. And all that he would ask in return was the three
fern stems which she carried in her apron.
"That is rather too high a price," said the old woman, nodding her head
quite strangely. She did not seem at all inclined to part with the fern stems.
However, it was not very agreeable to lie there with a broken leg, so she gave
them to him; and such was the power of the ointment, that no sooner had he
rubbed her leg with it than the old mother rose up and walked even better
than she had done before. But then this wonderful ointment could not be
bought at a chemist's.
"What can you want with those three fern rods?" asked John of his
fellow-traveller.
"Oh, they will make capital brooms," said he; "and I like them because I
have strange whims sometimes." Then they walked on together for a long
distance.
"How dark the sky is becoming," said John; "and look at those thick,
heavy clouds."
"Those are not clouds," replied his fellow-traveller; "they are
mountains—large lofty mountains—on the tops of which we should be
above the clouds, in the pure, free air. Believe me, it is delightful to ascend so
high, tomorrow we shall be there." But the mountains were not so near as
they appeared; they had to travel a whole day before they reached them, and
pass through black forests and piles of rock as large as a town. The journey
had been so fatiguing that John and his fellow-traveller stopped to rest at a
roadside inn, so that they might gain strength for their journey on the
morrow. In the large public room of the inn a great many persons were
assembled to see a comedy performed by dolls. The showman had just
erected his little theatre, and the people were sitting round the room to
witness the performance. Right in front, in the very best place, sat a stout
butcher, with a great bull-dog by his side who seemed very much inclined to
bite. He sat staring with all his eyes, and so indeed did every one else in the
room. And then the play began. It was a pretty piece, with a king and a
queen in it, who sat on a beautiful throne, and had gold crowns on their
heads. The trains to their dresses were very long, according to the fashion;
while the prettiest of wooden dolls, with glass eyes and large mustaches,
stood at the doors, and opened and shut them, that the fresh air might come
into the room. It was a very pleasant play, not at all mournful; but just as the
queen stood up and walked across the stage, the great bull-dog, who should
have been held back by his master, made a spring forward, and caught the
queen in the teeth by the slender wrist, so that it snapped in two. This was a
very dreadful disaster. The poor man, who was exhibiting the dolls, was
much annoyed, and quite sad about his queen; she was the prettiest doll he
had, and the bull-dog had broken her head and shoulders off. But after all
the people were gone away, the stranger, who came with John, said that he
could soon set her to rights. And then he brought out his box and rubbed the
doll with some of the salve with which he had cured the old woman when
she broke her leg. As soon as this was done the doll's back became quite right
again; her head and shoulders were fixed on, and she could even move her
limbs herself: there was now no occasion to pull the wires, for the doll acted
just like a living creature, excepting that she could not speak. The man to
whom the show belonged was quite delighted at having a doll who could
dance of herself without being pulled by the wires; none of the other dolls
could do this.
During the night, when all the people at the inn were gone to bed, some
one was heard to sigh so deeply and painfully, and the sighing continued for
so long a time, that every one got up to see what could be the matter. The
showman went at once to his little theatre and found that it proceeded from
the dolls, who all lay on the floor sighing piteously, and staring with their
glass eyes; they all wanted to be rubbed with the ointment, so that, like the
queen, they might be able to move of themselves. The queen threw herself on
her knees, took off her beautiful crown, and, holding it in her hand, cried,
"Take this from me, but do rub my husband and his courtiers."
The poor man who owned the theatre could scarcely refrain from
weeping; he was so sorry that he could not help them. Then he immediately
spoke to John's comrade, and promised him all the money he might receive
at the next evening's performance, if he would only rub the ointment on four
or five of his dolls. But the fellow-traveller said he did not require anything
in return, excepting the sword which the showman wore by his side. As soon
as he received the sword he anointed six of the dolls with the ointment, and
they were able immediately to dance so gracefully that all the living girls in
the room could not help joining in the dance. The coachman danced with the
cook, and the waiters with the chambermaids, and all the strangers joined;
even the tongs and the fire-shovel made an attempt, but they fell down after
the first jump. So after all it was a very merry night. The next morning John
and his companion left the inn to continue their journey through the great
pine-forests and over the high mountains. They arrived at last at such a great
height that towns and villages lay beneath them, and the church steeples
looked like little specks between the green trees. They could see for miles
round, far away to places they had never visited, and John saw more of the
beautiful world than he had ever known before. The sun shone brightly in
the blue firmament above, and through the clear mountain air came the
sound of the huntsman's horn, and the soft, sweet notes brought tears into
his eyes, and he could not help exclaiming, "How good and loving God is to
give us all this beauty and loveliness in the world to make us happy!"
His fellow-traveller stood by with folded hands, gazing on the dark wood
and the towns bathed in the warm sunshine. At this moment there sounded
over their heads sweet music. They looked up, and discovered a large white
swan hovering in the air, and singing as never bird sang before. But the song
soon became weaker and weaker, the bird's head drooped, and he sunk
slowly down, and lay dead at their feet.
"It is a beautiful bird," said the traveller, "and these large white wings
are
worth a great deal of money. I will take them with me. You see now that a
sword will be very useful."
So he cut off the wings of the dead swan with one blow, and carried them
away with him.
They now continued their journey over the mountains for many miles, till
they at length reached a large city, containing hundreds of towers, that shone
in the sunshine like silver. In the midst of the city stood a splendid marble
palace, roofed with pure red gold, in which dwelt the king. John and his
companion would not go into the town immediately; so they stopped at an
inn outside the town, to change their clothes; for they wished to appear
respectable as they walked through the streets. The landlord told them that
the king was a very good man, who never injured any one: but as to his
daughter, "Heaven defend us!"
She was indeed a wicked princess. She possessed beauty enough—
nobody could be more elegant or prettier than she was; but what of that? for
she was a wicked witch; and in consequence of her conduct many noble
young princes had lost their lives. Any one was at liberty to make her an
offer; were he a prince or a beggar, it mattered not to her. She would ask him
to guess three things which she had just thought of, and if he succeed, he was
to marry her, and be king over all the land when her father died; but if he
could not guess these three things, then she ordered him to be hanged or to
have his head cut off. The old king, her father, was very much grieved at her
conduct, but he could not prevent her from being so wicked, because he once
said he would have nothing more to do with her lovers; she might do as she
pleased. Each prince who came and tried the three guesses, so that he might
marry the princess, had been unable to find them out, and had been hanged
or beheaded. They had all been warned in time, and might have left her
alone, if they would. The old king became at last so distressed at all these
dreadful circumstances, that for a whole day every year he and his soldiers
knelt and prayed that the princess might become good; but she continued as
wicked as ever. The old women who drank brandy would colour it quite
black before they drank it, to show how they mourned; and what more could
they do?
"What a horrible princess!" said John; "she ought to be well flogged. If I
were the old king, I would have her punished in some way."
Just then they heard the people outside shouting, "Hurrah!" and, looking
out, they saw the princess passing by; and she was really so beautiful that
everybody forgot her wickedness, and shouted "Hurrah!" Twelve lovely
maidens in white silk dresses, holding golden tulips in their hands, rode by
her side on coal-black horses. The princess herself had a snow-white steed,
decked with diamonds and rubies. Her dress was of cloth of gold, and the
whip she held in her hand looked like a sunbeam. The golden crown on her
head glittered like the stars of heaven, and her mantle was formed of
thousands of butterflies' wings sewn together. Yet she herself was more
beautiful than all.
When John saw her, his face became as red as a drop of blood, and he
could scarcely utter a word. The princess looked exactly like the beautiful
lady with the golden crown, of whom he had dreamed on the night his father
died. She appeared to him so lovely that he could not help loving her.
"It could not be true," he thought, "that she was really a wicked witch,
who ordered people to be hanged or beheaded, if they could not guess her
thoughts. Every one has permission to go and ask her hand, even the poorest
beggar. I shall pay a visit to the palace," he said; "I must go, for I cannot
help
myself."
Then they all advised him not to attempt it; for he would be sure to share
the same fate as the rest. His fellow-traveller also tried to persuade him
against it; but John seemed quite sure of success. He brushed his shoes and
his coat, washed his face and his hands, combed his soft flaxen hair, and then
went out alone into the town, and walked to the palace.
"Come in," said the king, as John knocked at the door. John opened it,
and the old king, in a dressing gown and embroidered slippers, came
towards him. He had the crown on his head, carried his sceptre in one hand,
and the orb in the other. "Wait a bit," said he, and he placed the orb under
his arm, so that he could offer the other hand to John; but when he found
that John was another suitor, he began to weep so violently, that both the
sceptre and the orb fell to the floor, and he was obliged to wipe his eyes with
his dressing gown. Poor old king! "Let her alone," he said; "you will fare
as
badly as all the others. Come, I will show you." Then he led him out into the
princess's pleasure gardens, and there he saw a frightful sight. On every tree
hung three or four king's sons who had wooed the princess, but had not been
able to guess the riddles she gave them. Their skeletons rattled in every
breeze, so that the terrified birds never dared to venture into the garden. All
the flowers were supported by human bones instead of sticks, and human
skulls in the flower-pots grinned horribly. It was really a doleful garden for a
princess. "Do you see all this?" said the old king; "your fate will be the
same
as those who are here, therefore do not attempt it. You really make me very
unhappy,—I take these things to heart so very much."
John kissed the good old king's hand, and said he was sure it would be all
right, for he was quite enchanted with the beautiful princess. Then the
princess herself came riding into the palace yard with all her ladies, and he
wished her "Good morning." She looked wonderfully fair and lovely when
she offered her hand to John, and he loved her more than ever. How could
she be a wicked witch, as all the people asserted? He accompanied her into
the hall, and the little pages offered them gingerbread nuts and sweetmeats,
but the old king was so unhappy he could eat nothing, and besides,
gingerbread nuts were too hard for him. It was decided that John should
come to the palace the next day, when the judges and the whole of the
counsellors would be present, to try if he could guess the first riddle. If he
succeeded, he would have to come a second time; but if not, he would lose
his life,—and no one had ever been able to guess even one. However, John
was not at all anxious about the result of his trial; on the contrary, he was
very merry. He thought only of the beautiful princess, and believed that in
some way he should have help, but how he knew not, and did not like to
think about it; so he danced along the high-road as he went back to the inn,
where he had left his fellow-traveller waiting for him. John could not refrain
from telling him how gracious the princess had been, and how beautiful she
looked. He longed for the next day so much, that he might go to the palace
and try his luck at guessing the riddles. But his comrade shook his head, and
looked very mournful. "I do so wish you to do well," said he; "we might
have continued together much longer, and now I am likely to lose you; you
poor dear John! I could shed tears, but I will not make you unhappy on the
last night we may be together. We will be merry, really merry this evening;
to-morrow, after you are gone, shall be able to weep undisturbed."
It was very quickly known among the inhabitants of the town that
another suitor had arrived for the princess, and there was great sorrow in
consequence. The theatre remained closed, the women who sold sweetmeats
tied crape round the sugar-sticks, and the king and the priests were on their
knees in the church. There was a great lamentation, for no one expected John
to succeed better than those who had been suitors before.
In the evening John's comrade prepared a large bowl of punch, and said,
"Now let us be merry, and drink to the health of the princess." But after
drinking two glasses, John became so sleepy, that he could not keep his eyes
open, and fell fast asleep. Then his fellow-traveller lifted him gently out of
his chair, and laid him on the bed; and as soon as it was quite dark, he took
the two large wings which he had cut from the dead swan, and tied them
firmly to his own shoulders. Then he put into his pocket the largest of the
three rods which he had obtained from the old woman who had fallen and
broken her leg. After this he opened the window, and flew away over the
town, straight towards the palace, and seated himself in a corner, under the
window which looked into the bedroom of the princess.
The town was perfectly still when the clocks struck a quarter to twelve.
Presently the window opened, and the princess, who had large black wings
to her shoulders, and a long white mantle, flew away over the city towards a
high mountain. The fellow-traveller, who had made himself invisible, so that
she could not possibly see him, flew after her through the air, and whipped
the princess with his rod, so that the blood came whenever he struck her. Ah,
it was a strange flight through the air! The wind caught her mantle, so that it
spread out on all sides, like the large sail of a ship, and the moon shone
through it. "How it hails, to be sure!" said the princess, at each blow she
received from the rod; and it served her right to be whipped.
At last she reached the side of the mountain, and knocked. The mountain
opened with a noise like the roll of thunder, and the princess went in. The
traveller followed her; no one could see him, as he had made himself
invisible. They went through a long, wide passage. A thousand gleaming
spiders ran here and there on the walls, causing them to glitter as if they
were illuminated with fire. They next entered a large hall built of silver and
gold. Large red and blue flowers shone on the walls, looking like sunflowers
in size, but no one could dare to pluck them, for the stems were hideous
poisonous snakes, and the flowers were flames of fire, darting out of their
jaws. Shining glow-worms covered the ceiling, and sky-blue bats flapped
their transparent wings. Altogether the place had a frightful appearance. In
the middle of the floor stood a throne supported by four skeleton horses,
whose harness had been made by fiery-red spiders. The throne itself was
made of milk-white glass, and the cushions were little black mice, each biting
the other's tail. Over it hung a canopy of rose-colored spider's webs, spotted
with the prettiest little green flies, which sparkled like precious stones. On
the throne sat an old magician with a crown on his ugly head, and a sceptre
in his hand. He kissed the princess on the forehead, seated her by his side on
the splendid throne, and then the music commenced. Great black
grasshoppers played the mouth organ, and the owl struck herself on the
body instead of a drum. It was altogether a ridiculous concert. Little black
goblins with false lights in their caps danced about the hall; but no one could
see the traveller, and he had placed himself just behind the throne where he
could see and hear everything. The courtiers who came in afterwards looked
noble and grand; but any one with common sense could see what they really
were, only broomsticks, with cabbages for heads. The magician had given
them life, and dressed them in embroidered robes. It answered very well, as
they were only wanted for show. After there had been a little dancing, the
princess told the magician that she had a new suitor, and asked him what she
could think of for the suitor to guess when he came to the castle the next
morning.
"Listen to what I say," said the magician, "you must choose something
very easy, he is less likely to guess it then. Think of one of your shoes, he will
never imagine it is that. Then cut his head off; and mind you do not forget to
bring his eyes with you to-morrow night, that I may eat them."
The princess curtsied low, and said she would not forget the eyes.
The magician then opened the mountain and she flew home again, but
the traveller followed and flogged her so much with the rod, that she sighed
quite deeply about the heavy hail-storm, and made as much haste as she
could to get back to her bedroom through the window. The traveller then
returned to the inn where John still slept, took off his wings and laid down
on the bed, for he was very tired. Early in the morning John awoke, and
when his fellow-traveller got up, he said that he had a very wonderful dream
about the princess and her shoe, he therefore advised John to ask her if she
had not thought of her shoe. Of course the traveller knew this from what the
magician in the mountain had said.
"I may as well say that as anything," said John. "Perhaps your dream
may come true; still I will say farewell, for if I guess wrong I shall never see
you again."
Then they embraced each other, and John went into the town and walked
to the palace. The great hall was full of people, and the judges sat in arm-
chairs, with eider-down cushions to rest their heads upon, because they had
so much to think of. The old king stood near, wiping his eyes with his white
pocket-handkerchief. When the princess entered, she looked even more
beautiful than she had appeared the day before, and greeted every one
present most gracefully; but to John she gave her hand, and said, "Good
morning to you."
Now came the time for John to guess what she was thinking of; and oh,
how kindly she looked at him as she spoke. But when he uttered the single
word shoe, she turned as pale as a ghost; all her wisdom could not help her,
for he had guessed rightly. Oh, how pleased the old king was! It was quite
amusing to see how he capered about. All the people clapped their hands,
both on his account and John's, who had guessed rightly the first time. His
fellow-traveller was glad also, when he heard how successful John had been.
But John folded his hands, and thanked God, who, he felt quite sure, would
help him again; and he knew he had to guess twice more. The evening
passed pleasantly like the one preceding. While John slept, his companion
flew behind the princess to the mountain, and flogged her even harder than
before; this time he had taken two rods with him. No one saw him go in with
her, and he heard all that was said. The princess this time was to think of a
glove, and he told John as if he had again heard it in a dream. The next day,
therefore, he was able to guess correctly the second time, and it caused great
rejoicing at the palace. The whole court jumped about as they had seen the
king do the day before, but the princess lay on the sofa, and would not say a
single word. All now depended upon John. If he only guessed rightly the
third time, he would marry the princess, and reign over the kingdom after
the death of the old king: but if he failed, he would lose his life, and the
magician would have his beautiful blue eyes. That evening John said his
prayers and went to bed very early, and soon fell asleep calmly. But his
companion tied on his wings to his shoulders, took three rods, and, with his
sword at his side, flew to the palace. It was a very dark night, and so stormy
that the tiles flew from the roofs of the houses, and the trees in the garden
upon which the skeletons hung bent themselves like reeds before the wind.
The lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled in one long-continued peal all
night. The window of the castle opened, and the princess flew out. She was
pale as death, but she laughed at the storm as if it were not bad enough. Her
white mantle fluttered in the wind like a large sail, and the traveller flogged
her with the three rods till the blood trickled down, and at last she could
scarcely fly; she contrived, however, to reach the mountain. "What a hail-
storm!" she said, as she entered; "I have never been out in such weather as
this."
"Yes, there may be too much of a good thing sometimes," said the
magician.
Then the princess told him that John had guessed rightly the second time,
and if he succeeded the next morning, he would win, and she could never
come to the mountain again, or practice magic as she had done, and therefore
she was quite unhappy. "I will find out something for you to think of which
he will never guess, unless he is a greater conjuror than myself. But now let
us be merry."
Then he took the princess by both hands, and they danced with all the
little goblins and Jack-o'-lanterns in the room. The red spiders sprang here
and there on the walls quite as merrily, and the flowers of fire appeared as if
they were throwing out sparks. The owl beat the drum, the crickets whistled
and the grasshoppers played the mouth-organ. It was a very ridiculous ball.
After they had danced enough, the princess was obliged to go home, for fear
she should be missed at the palace. The magician offered to go with her, that
they might be company to each other on the way. Then they flew away
through the bad weather, and the traveller followed them, and broke his
three rods across their shoulders. The magician had never been out in such a
hail-storm as this. Just by the palace the magician stopped to wish the
princess farewell, and to whisper in her ear, "To-morrow think of my head."
But the traveller heard it, and just as the princess slipped through the
window into her bedroom, and the magician turned round to fly back to the
mountain, he seized him by the long black beard, and with his sabre cut off
the wicked conjuror's head just behind the shoulders, so that he could not
even see who it was. He threw the body into the sea to the fishes, and after
dipping the head into the water, he tied it up in a silk handkerchief, took it
with him to the inn, and then went to bed. The next morning he gave John
the handkerchief, and told him not to untie it till the princess asked him what
she was thinking of. There were so many people in the great hall of the
palace that they stood as thick as radishes tied together in a bundle. The
council sat in their arm-chairs with the white cushions. The old king wore
new robes, and the golden crown and sceptre had been polished up so that
he looked quite smart. But the princess was very pale, and wore a black dress
as if she were going to a funeral.
"What have I thought of?" asked the princess, of John. He immediately
untied the handkerchief, and was himself quite frightened when he saw the
head of the ugly magician. Every one shuddered, for it was terrible to look at;
but the princess sat like a statue, and could not utter a single word. At length
she rose and gave John her hand, for he had guessed rightly.
She looked at no one, but sighed deeply, and said, "You are my master
now; this evening our marriage must take place."
"I am very pleased to hear it," said the old king. "It is just what I
wish."
Then all the people shouted "Hurrah." The band played music in the
streets, the bells rang, and the cake-women took the black crape off the
sugar-sticks. There was universal joy. Three oxen, stuffed with ducks and
chickens, were roasted whole in the market-place, where every one might
help himself to a slice. The fountains spouted forth the most delicious wine,
and whoever bought a penny loaf at the baker's received six large buns, full
of raisins, as a present. In the evening the whole town was illuminated. The
soldiers fired off cannons, and the boys let off crackers. There was eating and
drinking, dancing and jumping everywhere. In the palace, the high-born
gentlemen and beautiful ladies danced with each other, and they could be
heard at a great distance singing the following song:—
"Here are maidens, young and fair,
Dancing in the summer air;
Like two spinning-wheels at play,
Pretty maidens dance away-
Dance the spring and summer through
Till the sole falls from your shoe."
But the princess was still a witch, and she could not love John. His fellow-
traveller had thought of that, so he gave John three feathers out of the swan's
wings, and a little bottle with a few drops in it. He told him to place a large
bath full of water by the princess's bed, and put the feathers and the drops
into it. Then, at the moment she was about to get into bed, he must give her a
little push, so that she might fall into the water, and then dip her three times.
This would destroy the power of the magician, and she would love him very
much. John did all that his companion told him to do. The princess shrieked
aloud when he dipped her under the water the first time, and struggled
under his hands in the form of a great black swan with fiery eyes. As she rose
the second time from the water, the swan had become white, with a black
ring round its neck. John allowed the water to close once more over the bird,
and at the same time it changed into a most beautiful princess. She was more
lovely even than before, and thanked him, while her eyes sparkled with
tears, for having broken the spell of the magician. The next day, the king
came with the whole court to offer their congratulations, and stayed till quite
late. Last of all came the travelling companion; he had his staff in his hand
and his knapsack on his back. John kissed him many times and told him he
must not go, he must remain with him, for he was the cause of all his good
fortune. But the traveller shook his head, and said gently and kindly, "No:
my time is up now; I have only paid my debt to you. Do you remember the
dead man whom the bad people wished to throw out of his coffin? You gave
all you possessed that he might rest in his grave; I am that man." As he said
this, he vanished.
The wedding festivities lasted a whole month. John and his princess
loved each other dearly, and the old king lived to see many a happy day,
when he took their little children on his knees and let them play with his
sceptre. And John became king over the whole country.
The Travelling Companion
Engelsk for 8. klasse
Skole-forum.dk
