But what had been hard for him to do before was easier now. At the end of a week he was back at the old man"s house, rapping on the door.
This time the old man asked him never a word, but frowned as black as thunder.
"I know," said he, "what has happened to you. If I were wise I should let you alone in your folly; but once more I will have pity on you and will help you, only this time it shall be the last." Once more he led the way to the stone room, where were the iron candlestick and the magic carpet, and with him he took a good stout cudgel. He stood the candlestick in the middle of the room, and taking three candles from his pouch, thrust one into each branch. Then he struck a light, and lit the first candle. Instantly there appeared a little old man, clad in a long white robe, who began dancing and spinning around and around like a top.
He lit the second candle, and a second old man appeared, and round and round he went, spinning like his brother. He lit the third candle, and a third old man appeared. Around and around and around they spun and whirled, until the head spun and whirled to look at them. Then the old graybeard gripped the cudgel in his hand. "Are you ready?" he asked.
"We are ready, and waiting," answered the three. Thereupon, without another word, the graybeard fetched each of the dancers a blow upon the head with might and main--One! two! three! crack! crash! jingle!
Lo and behold! Instead of the three dancing men, there lay three great heaps of gold upon the floor, and the spendthrift stood staring like an owl. "There," said the old man, "take what you want, and then go your way, and trouble me no more."
"Well," said the spendthrift, "of all the wonders that ever I saw, this is the most wonderful! But how am I to carry my gold away with me, seeing I did not fetch my basket?"
"You shall have a basket," said the old man, "if only you will trouble me no more. Just wait here a moment until I bring it to you."
The spendthrift was left all alone in the room; not a soul was there but himself. He looked up, and he looked down, and scratched his head.
"Why," he cried aloud, "should I be content to take a part when I can have the whole?"
To do was as easy as to say. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the iron candlestick, caught up the staff that the old man had left leaning against the wall, and seated himself upon the magic carpet. "By the horn of Jacob," he cried, "I command thee, O Carpet! to carry me over hill and valley, over lake and river, to a place where the old man can never find me."
Hardly had the words left his mouth than away flew the carpet through the air, carrying him along with it; away and away, higher than the clouds and swifter than the wind. Then at last it descended to the earth again, and when the young spendthrift looked about him, he found himself in just such a desert place as he and the old man had come to when they had found the treasure. But he gave no thought to that, and hardly looked around him to see where he was. All that he thought of was to try his hand at the three dancers that belonged to the candlestick.
He struck a light, and lit the three candles, and instantly the three little old men appeared for him just as they had for the old graybeard.
And around and around they spun and whirled, until the sand and dust spun and whirled along with them. Then the young man grasped his cudgel tightly.
Now, he had not noticed that when the old man struck the three dancers he had held the cudgel in his left hand, for he was not wise enough to know that great differences come from little matters. He griped the cudgel in his right hand, and struck the dancers with might and main, just as the old man had done. Crack! crack! crack! one; two; three.
Did they change into piles of gold? Not a bit of it! Each of the dancers drew from under his robe a cudgel as stout and stouter than the one the young man himself held, and, without a word, fell upon him and began to beat and drub him until the dust flew. In vain he hopped and howled and begged for mercy, in vain he tried to defend himself; the three never stopped until he fell to the ground, and laid there panting and sighing and groaning; and then they left and flew back with the iron candlestick and the magic carpet to the old man again. At last, after a great while, the young spendthrift sat up, rubbing the sore places; but when he looked around not a sign was to be seen of anything but the stony desert, without a house or a man in sight.
Perhaps, after a long time, he found his way home again, and perhaps the drubbing he had had taught him wisdom; the first is a likely enough thing to happen, but as for the second, it would need three strong men to tell it to me a great many times before I would believe it.
You may smile at this story if you like, but, all the same, as certainly as there is meat in an egg-sh.e.l.l, so is there truth in this nonsense.
For, "Give a fool heaven and earth," say I, "and all the stars, and he will make ducks and drakes of them."
Fortunatus lifted his canican to his lips and took a long, hearty draught of ale. "Methinks," said he, "that all your stories have a tw.a.n.g of the same sort about them. You all of you, except my friend the Soldier here, play the same tune upon a different fiddle. n.o.body comes to any good."
St. George drew a long whiff of his pipe, and then puffed out a cloud of smoke as big as his head. "Perhaps," said he to Fortunatus, "you know of a story which turns out differently. If you do, let us have it, for it is your turn now."
"Very well," said Fortunatus, "I will tell you a story that turns out as it should, where the lad marries a beautiful princess and becomes a king into the bargain."
"And what is your story about?" said the Lad who fiddled for Jew in the bramble-bush.
"It is," said Fortunatus, "about--"
The Good of a Few Words
There was one Beppo the Wise and another Beppo the Foolish.
The wise one was the father of the foolish one.
Beppo the Wise was called Beppo the Wise because he had laid up a great treasure after a long life of hard work.
Beppo the Foolish was called Beppo the Foolish because he spent in five years after his father was gone from this world of sorrow all that the old man had laid together in his long life of toil. But during that time Beppo lived as a prince, and the life was never seen in that town before or since--feasting and drinking and junketing and merrymaking. He had friends by the dozen and by the scores, and the fame of his doings went throughout all the land.
While his money lasted he was called Beppo the Generous. It was only after it was all gone that they called him Beppo the Foolish.
So by-and-by the money was spent, and there was an end of it.
Yes; there was an end of it; and where were all of Beppo"s fair-weather friends? Gone like the wild-geese in frosty weather.
"Don"t you remember how I gave you a bagful of gold?" says Beppo the Foolish. "Won"t you remember me now in my time of need?"
But the fair-weather friend only laughed in his face.
"Don"t you remember how I gave you a fine gold chain with a diamond pendant?" says Beppo to another. "And won"t you lend me a little money to help me over to-day?"
But the summer-goose friend only grinned.
"But what shall I do to keep body and soul together?" says Beppo to a third.
The man was a wit. "Go to a shoemaker," said he, "and let him st.i.tch the soul fast;" and that was all the good Beppo had of him.
Then poor Beppo saw that there was not place for him in that town, and so off he went to seek his fortune else whither, for he saw that there was nothing to be gained in that place.
So he journeyed on for a week and a day, and then towards evening he came to the king"s town.
There it stood on the hill beside the river--the grandest city in the kingdom. There were orchards and plantations of trees along the banks of the stream, and gardens and summer-houses and pavilions. There were white houses and red roofs and blue skies. Up above on the hill were olive orchards and fields, and then blue sky again.
Beppo went into the town, gazing about him with admiration. Houses, palaces, gardens. He had never seen the like. Stores and shops full of cloths of velvet and silk and satin; goldsmiths, silversmiths, jewellers--as though all the riches of the world had been emptied into the city. Crowds of people--lords, n.o.blemen, courtiers, rich merchants, and tradesmen.
Beppo stared about at the fine sights and everybody stared at Beppo, for his shoes were dusty, his clothes were travel-stained, and a razor had not touched his face for a week.
The king of that country was walking in the garden under the shade of the trees, and the sunlight slanted down upon him, and sparkled upon the jewels around his neck and on his fingers. Two dogs walked alongside of him, and a whole crowd of lords and n.o.bles and courtiers came behind him; first of all the prime-minister with his long staff.
But for all this fine show this king was not really the king. When the old king died he left a daughter, and she should have been queen if she had had her own rights. But this king, who was her uncle, had stepped in before her, and so the poor princess was pushed aside and was n.o.body at all but a princess, the king"s niece.
She stood on the terrace with her old nurse, while the king walked in the garden below.
It had been seven years now since the old king had died, and in that time she had grown up into a beautiful young woman, as wise as she was beautiful, and as good as she was wise. Few people ever saw her, but everybody talked about her in whispers and praised her beauty and goodness, saying that, if the right were done, she would have her own and be queen.
Sometimes the king heard of this (for a king hears everything), and he grew to hate the princess as a man hates bitter drink.
The princess looked down from the terrace, and there she saw Beppo walking along the street, and his shoes were dusty and his clothes were travel-stained, and a razor had not touched his face for a week.
"Look at yonder poor man," she said to her nurse; "yet if I were his wife he would be greater really than my uncle, the king."
The king, walking below in the garden, heard what she said.