The Three Orange-Peris, Turkey (fairy tale)/Τα 3 πορτοκάλια - …. , Τουρκία (παραμύθι)
In the olden times, when there were
sieves in straws and lies in everything, in the olden times when there was
abundance, and men ate and drank the whole day and yet lay down hungry, in
those olden, olden times there was once a Padishah whose days were joyless, for
he had never a son to bless himself with.
One day he was in the path of
pleasure with his Vizier, and when they had drunk their coffee and smoked their
chibooks, they went out for a walk, and went on and on till they came to a
great valley. Here they sat down to rest a while, and as they were looking
about them to the right hand and to the left, the valley was suddenly shaken as
if by an earthquake, a whip cracked, and a dervish, a green-robed,
yellow-slippered, white-bearded dervish, suddenly stood before them. The
Padishah and the Vizier were so frightened that they dared not budge; but when
the dervish approached them and addressed them with the words, “Selamun
aleykyum,”1 they took heart a bit, and replied courteously, “Ve aleykyum
selam.”2
“What is thy errand here, my lord
Padishah?” asked the dervish.
“If thou dost know that I am a
Padishah, thou dost also know my errand,” replied the Padishah.
Then the dervish took from his bosom
an apple, gave it to the Padishah, and said these words: “Give half of this to
thy Sultana, and eat the other half thyself,” and with these words he
disappeared.
Then the Padishah went home, gave
half the apple to his consort, and ate the other half himself, and in exactly
nine months and ten days there was a little prince in the harem. The Padishah
was beside himself for joy. He scattered sequins among the poor, restored to
freedom his slaves, and the banquet he gave to his friends had neither
beginning nor end.
Swiftly flies the time in fairy
tales, and the child had reached his fourteenth summer while yet they fondled
him. One day he said to his father: “My lord father Padishah, make me now a
little marble palace, and let there be two springs under it, and let one of
them run with honey, and the other with butter!” Dearly did the Padishah love
his little son, because he was his only child, so he made him the marble palace
with the springs inside it as his son desired. There then sat the King’s son in
the marble palace, and while he was looking at the springs that bubbled forth
both butter and honey, he saw an old woman with a pitcher in her hand, and she
would fain have filled it from the spring. Then the King’s son caught up a
stone and flung it at the old woman’s pitcher, and broke it into pieces. The
old woman said not a word, but she went away.
1 “Peace be unto you.” 2 “Unto you
be peace,”
But the next day she was there again
with her pitcher, and again she made as if she would fill it, and a second time
the King’s son cast a stone at her and broke her pitcher. The old woman went
away without speaking a word. She came on the third day also, and it fared with
her pitcher then as on the first two days. Then the old woman spoke. “Oh,
youth!” cried she, ” ’tis the will of Allah that thou shouldst fall in love
with the three Orange-peris,” and with that she quitted him.
From thenceforth the heart of the
King’s son was consumed by a hidden fire. He began to grow pale and wither
away. When the Padishah saw that his son was ill, he sent for the wise men and
the leeches, but they could find no remedy for the disease. One day the King’s
son said to his father: “Oh, my dear little daddy Shah! these wise men of thine
cannot cure me of my disease, and all their labours are in vain. I have fallen
in love with the three Oranges, and never shall I be better till I find them.”
“Oh, my dear little son!” groaned
the Padishah, “thou art all that I have in the wide world: if thou dost leave
me, in whom can I rejoice?” Then the Bang’s son slowly withered away, and his
days were as a heavy sleep; so his father saw that it would be better to let
him go forth on his way and find, if so be he might, the three Oranges that
were as the balsam of his soul. “Perchance too he may return again,” thought
the Padishah.
So the King’s son arose one day and
took with him things that were light to carry, but heavy in the scales of
value, and pursued his way over mountains and valleys, rising up and lying down
again for many days. At last in the midst of a vast plain, in front of the
high-road, he came upon her Satanic Majesty the Mother of Devils, as huge as a
minaret. One of her legs was on one mountain, and the other leg on another
mountain; she was chewing gum (her mouth was full of it) so that you could hear
her half-an-hour’s journey off; her breath was a hurricane, and her arms were
yards and yards long.
“Good-day, little mother!” cried the
youth, and he embraced the broad waist of the Mother of Devils. “Good-day,
little sonny!” she replied. “If thou hadst not spoken to me so politely, I
should have gobbled thee up.” Then she asked him whence he came and whither he
was going.
“Alas! dear little mother,” sighed
the youth, “such a terrible misfortune has befallen me that I can neither tell
thee nor answer thy question.”
“Nay, come, out with it, my son,”
urged the Mother of Devils.
“Well then, my sweet little mother,”
cried the youth, and he sighed worse than before, ” I have fallen violently in
love with the three Oranges. If only I might find my way thither!”
“Hush!” cried the Mother of Devils,
“it is not lawful to even think of that name, much less pronounce it. I and my
sons are its guardians, yet even we don’t know the way to it. Forty sons have
I, and they go up and down the earth more than I do, perchance they may tell
thee something of the matter.” So when it began to grow dusk towards evening,
ere yet the devil-sons had come home, the old woman gave the King’s son a tap,
and turned him into a pitcher of water. And she did it not a moment too soon,
for immediately afterwards the forty sons of the Mother of Devils knocked at
the door and cried: “Mother, we smell man’s flesh!”
“Nonsense!” cried the Mother of
Devils. “What, I should like to know, have the sons of men to do here? It seems
to me you had better all clean your teeth.” So she gave the forty sons forty
wooden stakes to clean their teeth with, and out of one’s tooth fell an arm, and
out of another’s a thigh, and out of another’s an arm, till they had all
cleaned their teeth. Then they sat them down to eat and drink, and in the
middle of the meal their mother said to them: “If now ye had a man for your
brother, what would ye do with him?”
“Do,” they replied, “why love him
like a brother, of course!”
Then the Mother of Devils tapped the
water-jar, and the King’s son stood there again. “Here is your brother! ” cried
she to her forty sons.
The devils thanked the King’s son
for his company with great joy, invited their new brother to sit down, and
asked their mother why she had not told them about him before, as then they
might all have eaten their meal together.
“Nay but, my sons,” cried she, “he
does not live on the same sort of meat as ye; fowls, mutton, and such-like is
what he feeds on.”
At this one of them jumped up, went
out, fetched a sheep, slew it, and laid it before the new brother.
“Oh, what a child thou art!” cried
the Mother of Devils. “Dost thou not know that thou must first cook it for him?
”
Then they skinned the sheep, made a
fire, roasted it, and placed it before him. The King’s son ate a piece, and
after satisfying his hunger, left the rest of it. “Why, that’s nothing!” cried
the devils, and they urged him again and again to eat more. “Nay, my sons,”
cried their mother, ” men never eat more than that.”
“Let us see then what this
sheep-meat is like,” said one of the forty brothers. So they fell upon it and
devoured the whole lot in a couple of mouthfuls.
Now when they all rose up early in
the morning, the Mother of Devils said to her sons: “Our new brother hath a
great trouble.” – ” What is it?” cried they, “for we would help him.”
“He has fallen in love with the
three Oranges!” – “Well,” replied the devils, “we know not the place of the
three Oranges ourselves, but perchance our aunt may know.”
“Then lead this youth to her row
their mother; “tell her that he is my son and worthy of all honour, let her
also receive him as a sou and ease him of his trouble.” Then the devils to6k
the youth to their aunt, and told her, on what errand he had come.
Now this Aunt of the Devils had
sixty sons, and as she did not know the place of the three Oranges, she had to
wait till they came home. But lest any harm should happen to this her new son,
she gave him a tap and turned him into a piece of crockery.
“We smell man’s flesh, mother,”
cried the devils, as they crossed the threshold.
“Perchance ye have eaten man’s
flesh, and the remains thereof are still within your teeth,” said their mother.
Then she gave them great logs of wood that they might pick their teeth clean,
and so be able to swallow down something else. But in the midst of the meal the
woman gave the piece of crockery a tap, and when the sixty devils saw their
little human brother, they rejoiced at the sight, made him sit down at table,
and bade him fall to if there was anything there he took a fancy to. “My sons,”
said the Mother of the Devils to her sixty sons when they all rose up early on
the morrow, “this lad here has fallen in love with the three Oranges, cannot
you show him the way thither? ”
“We know not the way,” replied the
devils; “but perchance our old great-aunt may know something about it.”
“Then take the youth thither,” said
their mother, “and bid her hold him in high honour. He is my son, let him be
hers also and help him out of his distress.” Then they took him off to their
great-aunt, and told her the whole business. “Alas! I do not know, my sons!”
said the old, old great-aunt; “but if you wait till the evening, when my ninety
sons come home, I will ask them.”
Then the sixty devils departed and
left the King’s son there, and when it grew dusk the Mother of the Devils gave
the youth a tap, turned him into a broom, and placed him in the doorway.
Shortly afterwards the ninety devils came home, and they also smelt the smell
of man, and took the pieces of man’s flesh out of their teeth. In the middle of
their meal their mother asked them how they would treat a human brother if they
had one. When they had sworn upon eggs that they would not hurt so much as his
little finger, their mother gave the broom a tap, and the King’s son stood
before them.
The devil brothers entreated him
courteously, inquired after his health, and served him so heartily with
eatables that they scarcely gave him time to breathe. In the midst of the meal
their mother asked them whether they knew where the three Oranges were, for
their new brother had fallen in love with them. Then the least of the ninety
devils leaped up with a shout of joy, and said that he knew.
“Then if thou knowest,” said his
mother, “see that thou take this son of ours thither, that he may satisfy his
heart’s desire.”
On arising next morning, the devil-son
took the King’s son with him, and the pair of them went merrily along the road
together. They went on, and on, and on, and at last the little devil said these
words: “My brother, we shall come presently to a large garden, and in the
fountain thereof are the three. When I say to thee: ‘Shut thine eye, open thine
eye!’ lay hold of what thou shalt see.”
They went on a little way further
till they came to the garden, and the moment the devil saw the fountain he said
to the King’s son: “Shut thine eye and open thine eye!” He did so, and saw the
three Oranges bobbing up and down on the surface of the water where it came
bubbling out of the spring, and he snatched up one of them and popped it in his
pocket. Again the devil called to him: “Open thine eye and shut thine eye!” He
did so, and snatched up the second orange, and so with the third also in the
same way. “Now take care,” said the devil, “that thou dost not cut open these
oranges in any place where there is no water, or it will go ill with thee.” The
King’s son promised, and so they parted, one went to the right, and the other
to the left.
The King’s son went on, and on, and
on. He went a long way, and he went a short way, he went across mountains and
through valleys. At last he came to a sandy desert, and there he bethought him
of the oranges, and drawing one out, he cut it open. Scarcely had he cut into
it when a damsel, lovely as a Peri, popped out of it before him; the moon when
it is fourteen days old is not more dazzling. “For Allah’s sake, give me a drop
of water!” cried the damsel, and inasmuch as there was no trace of water
anywhere, she vanished from the face of the earth. The King’s son grieved right
sorely, but there was no help for it, the thing was done.
Again he went on his way, and when he
had gone a little further he thought to himself, “I may as well cut open one
more orange.” So he drew out the second orange, and scarcely had he cut into it
than there popped down before him a still more lovely damsel, who begged
piteously for water, but as the King’s son had none to give her, she also
vanished.
“Well, I’ll take better care of the
third,” cried he, and continued his journey. He went on and on till he came to
a large spring, drank out of it, and then thought to himself: “Well, now I’ll cut
open the third orange also.” He drew it out and cut it, and immediately a
damsel even lovelier than the other two stood before him. As soon as she called
for water, he led her to the spring and gave her to drink, and the damsel did
not disappear, but remained there as large as life.
Mother-naked was the damsel, and as
he could not take her to town like that, he bade her climb up a large tree that
stood beside the spring, while he went into the town to buy her raiment and a
carriage.
While the King’s son had gone away,
a negro servant came to the spring to draw water, and saw the reflection of the
damsel in the watery mirror. “Why, thou art something like a damsel,” said she
to herself, “and ever so much lovelier than thy mistress; so she ought to fetch
water for me, not I for her.” With that she broke the pitcher in two, went
home, and when her mistress asked where the pitcher of water was, she replied:
“I am much more beautiful than thou, so thou must fetch water for me, not I for
thee.” Her mistress took up a mirror, held it before her, and said: “Methinks
thou must have taken leave of thy senses; look at this mirror! “The Moor looked
into the mirror, and saw that she was as coal-black as ever. Without another
word she took up the pitcher, went again to the spring, and seeing the damsel’s
face in the mirror, again fancied that it was hers.
“I’m right, after all,” she cried;
“I’m ever so much more beautiful than my mistress.” So she broke the pitcher to
pieces again, and went home. Again her mistress asked her why she had not drawn
water. “Because I am ever so much more beautiful than thou, so thou must draw
water for me,” replied she.
“Thou art downright crazy,” replied
her mistress, drew out a mirror, and showed it to her; and when the Moor-girl
saw her face in it, she took up another pitcher and went to the fountain for
the third time.
The damsel’s face again appeared in
the water, but just as she was about to break the pitcher again, the damsel
called to her from the tree: “Break not thy pitchers, ’tis my face thou dost
see in the water, and thou wilt see thine own there also.”
The Moor-girl looked up, and when
she saw the wondrously beautiful shape of the damsel in the tree, she climbed
up beside her and spake coaxing words to her: “Oh, my little golden damsel,
thou wilt get the cramp from crouching there so long; come, rest thy head!” And
with that she laid the damsel’s head on her breast, felt in her bosom, drew out
a needle, pricked the damsel with it in the skull, and in an instant the
Orange-Damsel was changed into a bird, and pr-r-r-r-r! she was gone, leaving
the Moor all alone in the tree.
Now when the King’s son came back
with his fine coach and beautiful raiment, looked up into the tree, and saw the
black face, he asked the girl what had happened to her. “A nice question!”
replied the Moor-girl. “Why, thou didst leave me here all day, and wentest
away, so of course the sun has tanned me black.” What could the poor King’s son
do? He made the black damsel sit in the coach, and took her straight home to
his father’s house.
In the palace of the Padishah they
were all waiting, full of eagerness, to behold the Peri-Bride, and when they
saw the Moorish damsel they said to the King’s son: “However couldst thou lose
thy heart to a black maid?”
“She is not a black maid,” said the
King’s son. “I left her at the top of a tree, and she was blackened there by
the rays of the sun. If only you let her rest a bit she’ll soon grow white
again.” And with that he led her into her chamber, and waited for her to grow
white again.
Now there was a beautiful garden in
the palace of the King’s son, and one day the Orange-Bird came flying on to a
tree there, and called down to the gardener.
“What dost thou want with me?” asked
the gardener.
“What is the King’s son doing?”
inquired the bird.
“He is doing no harm that I know
of,” replied the gardener.
“And what about his black bride?”
“Oh, she’s there too, sitting with
him as usual.”
Then the little bird sang these
words:
“She may sit by his side, But she
shall not abide; For all her fair showing The thorns are a-growing. As I hop on
this tree, It will wither ‘neath me.”
And with that it flew away.
The next day it came again, and
inquired once more about the King’s son and his black consort, and repeated
what it said before. The third day it did in like manner, and as many trees as
it hopped upon withered right away beneath it.
One day the King’s son felt weary of
his black bride, so he went out into the garden for a walk. Then his eye fell
on the withered trees, and he called the gardener and said to him: “What is
this, gardener? Why dost thou not take better care of thy trees? Dost thou not
see that they are all withering away?” Then the gardener replied that it was of
but little use for him to take care of the trees, for a few days ago a little
bird had been there, and asked what the King’s son and his black consort were
doing, and had said that though she might be sitting there, she should not sit
for ever, but that thorns would grow, and every tree it lit upon should wither.
The King’s son commanded the
gardener to smear the trees with bird-lime, and if the bird then lit upon it,
to bring it to him. So the gardener smeared the trees with bird-lime, and when
the bird came there next day he caught it, and brought it to the King’s son,
who put it in a cage. Now no sooner did the black woman look upon the bird than
she knew at once that it was the damsel. So she pretended to be very ill, sent
for the chief medicine-man, and by dint of rich gifts persuaded him to say to
the King’s son that his consort would never get well unless he fed her with
such and such birds.
The King’s son saw that his consort
was very sick, he sent for the doctor, went with him to see the sick woman, and
asked him how she was to be cured. The doctor said she could only be cured if
they gave her such and such birds to eat. “Why, only this very day have I
caught one of such birds,” said the King’s son; and they brought the bird,
killed it, and fed the sick lady with the flesh thereof. In an instant the
black damsel arose from her bed. But one of the bird’s dazzling feathers fell
accidentally to the ground and slipped between the planks, so that nobody
noticed it.
Time went on, and the King’s son was
still waiting and waiting for his consort to turn white. Now there was an old
woman in the palace who used to teach the dwellers in the harem to read and
write. One day as she was going down-stairs she saw something gleaming between
the planks of the floor, and going towards it, perceived that it was a bird’s
feather that sparkled like a diamond. She took it home and thrust it behind a
rafter. The next day she went to the palace, and while she was away the bird’s
feather leaped down from the rafter, shivered a little, and the next moment
turned into a most lovely damsel. She put the room tidy, cooked the meal, set
everything in order, and then leaped back upon the rafter and became a feather
again. When the old woman came home she was amazed at what she saw. She
thought: “Somebody must have done all this,” so she went up and down, backwards
and forwards through the house, but nobody could she see.
Early next morning she again went to
the palace, and the feather leaped down again in like manner, and did all the
household work. When the old woman came home, she perceived the house all nice
and clean, and everything in order. “I really must find out the secret of
this,” thought she, so next morning she made as if she were going away as
usual, and left the door ajar, but went and hid herself in a corner. All at
once she perceived that there was a damsel in the room, who tidied the room and
cooked the meal, whereupon the old woman dashed out, seized hold of her, and
asked her who she was and whence she came. Then the damsel told her her sad
fate, and how she had been twice killed by the black woman, and had come thither
in the shape of a feather.
“Distress thyself no more, my lass,”
said the old woman. “I’ll put thy business to rights, and this very day, too.”
And with that she went straight to the King’s son and invited him to come and
see her that evening. The King’s son was now so sick unto death of his black
bride that he was glad of any excuse to escape from his own house, so the
evening found him punctually at the old woman’s. They sat down to supper, and
when the coffee followed the meats, the damsel entered with the cups, and when
the King’s son saw her he was like to have fainted. “Nay, but, mother,” said
the King’s son, when he had come to himself a little, “who is that damsel? ”
” Thy wife,” replied the old woman.
“How didst thou get that fair
creature? “inquired the King’s son. “Wilt thou not give her to me?”
“How can I give her to thee, seeing
that she was thine own once upon a time,” said the old woman; and with that the
old woman took the damsel by the hand, led her to the King’s son, and laid her
on his breast. “Take better care of the Orange-Peri another time,” said she.
The King’s son now nearly fainted in
real earnest, but it was from sheer joy. He took the damsel to his palace, put
to death the black slave-girl, but held high festival with the Peri for forty
days and forty nights. So they had the desire of their hearts, and may Allah
satisfy your desires likewise.
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