The queen clung to Fayzenheim’s arm. “Fear not, my queen,” said he. “The evil race have no power over our light and aerial nature; with men only they war; and he whom we have seen was, in the old ages of the world, one of the deadliest visitors to mankind.”
But now they came winding by a passage to a beautiful recess in the mountain empire; it was of a circular shape of amazing height; in the midst of it played a natural fountain of sparkling waters, and around it were columns of massive granite, rising in countless vistas, till lost in the distant shade. Jewels were scattered round, and brightly played the fairy torches on the gem, the fountain, and the pale silver, that gleamed at frequent intervals from the rocks. “Here let us rest,” said the gallant fairy, clapping his hands; “what, ho! music and the feast.”
So the feast was spread by the fountain’s side; and the courtiers scattered rose-leaves, which they had brought with them, for the prince and his visitor; and amidst the dark kingdom of the dwarfs broke the delicate sound of fairy lutes. “We have not these evil beings in England,” said the queen, as low as she could speak; “they rouse my fear, but my interest also. Tell me, dear prince, of what nature was the intercourse of the evil dwarf with man?”
“You know,” answered the prince, “that to every species of living thing there is something in common; the vast chain of sympathy runs through all creation. By that which they have in common with the beast of the field or the bird of the air, men govern the inferior tribes; they appeal to the common passions of fear and emulation when they tame the wild steed, to the common desire of greed and gain when they snare the fishes of the stream, or allure the wolves to the pitfall by the bleating of the lamb. In their turn, in the older ages of the world, it was by the passions which men had in common with the demon race that the fiends commanded or allured them. The dwarf whom you saw, being of that race which is characterized by the ambition of power and the desire of hoarding, appealed then in his intercourse with men to the same characteristics in their own bosoms,—to ambition or to avarice. And thus were his victims made! But, not now, dearest Nymphalin,” continued the prince, with a more lively air,—“not now will we speak of those gloomy beings. Ho, there! cease the music, and come hither all of ye, to listen to a faithful and homely history of the Dog, the Cat, the Griffin, and the Fox.”
CHAPTER XII. THE WOOING OF MASTER FOX.*
* In the excursions of the fairies, it is the object of the author
to bring before the reader a rapid phantasmagoria of the various
beings that belong to the German superstitions, so that the work
may thus describe the outer and the inner world of the land of
the Rhine. The tale of the Fox’s Wooing has been composed to
give the English reader an idea of a species of novel not
naturalized amongst us, though frequent among the legends of our
Irish neighbours; in which the brutes are the only characters
drawn,—drawn too with shades of distinction as nice and subtle
as if they were the creatures of the civilized world.
You are aware, my dear Nymphalin, that in the time of which I am about to speak there was no particular enmity between the various species of brutes; the dog and the hare chatted very agreeably together, and all the world knows that the wolf, unacquainted with mutton, had a particular affection for the lamb. In these happy days, two most respectable cats, of very old family, had an only daughter. Never was kitten more amiable or more seducing; as she grew up she manifested so many charms, that in a little while she became noted as the greatest beauty in the neighbourhood. Need I to you, dearest Nymphalin, describe her perfection? Suffice it to say that her skin was of the most delicate tortoiseshell, that her paws were smoother than velvet, that her whiskers were twelve inches long at the least, and that her eyes had a gentleness altogether astonishing in a cat. But if the young beauty had suitors in plenty during the lives of monsieur and madame, you may suppose the number was not diminished when, at the age of two years and a half, she was left an orphan, and sole heiress to all the hereditary property. In fine, she was the richest marriage in the whole country. Without troubling you, dearest queen, with the adventures of the rest of her lovers, with their suit and their rejection, I come at once to the two rivals most sanguine of success,—the dog and the fox.
Now the dog was a handsome, honest, straightforward, affectionate fellow. “For my part,” said he, “I don’t wonder at my cousin’s refusing Bruin the bear, and Gauntgrim the wolf: to be sure they give themselves great airs, and call themselves ‘noble,’ but what then? Bruin is always in the sulks, and Gauntgrim always in a passion; a cat of any sensibility would lead a miserable life with them. As for me, I am very good-tempered when I’m not put out, and I have no fault except that of being angry if disturbed at my meals. I am young and good-looking, fond of play and amusement, and altogether as agreeable a husband as a cat could find in a summer’s day. If she marries me, well and good; she may have her property settled on herself: if not, I shall bear her no malice; and I hope I sha’n’t be too much in love to forget that there are other cats in the world.”
With that the dog threw his tail over his back, and set off to his mistress with a gay face on the matter.