‘Listen to me,’ said the raven, ‘but it is so difficult to speak your language! Do you understand Ravenish? If so, I can tell you much better.’
‘No! I have never learned Ravenish,’ said Gerda, ‘but my grandmother knew it, and Pye-language also. Oh, how I wish I had learned it!’
‘Never mind,’ said the raven, ‘I will relate my story in the best manner I can, though bad will be the best’; and he told all he knew.
‘In the kingdom wherein we are now sitting, there dwells a princess, a most uncommonly clever princess. All the newspapers in the world has she read, and forgotten them again, so clever is she. It is not long since she ascended the throne, which I have heard is not quite so agreeable a situation as one would fancy; and immediately after she began to sing a new song, the burden of which was this, “Why should I not marry me?” “There is some sense in this song!” said she, and she determined she would marry, but at the same time declared that the man whom she would choose must be able to answer sensibly whenever people spoke to him, and must be good for something else besides merely looking grand and stately. The ladies of the court were then all drummed together, in order to be informed of her intentions, whereupon they were highly delighted, and one exclaimed, “That is just what I wish”; and another, that she had lately been thinking of the very same thing. Believe me,’ continued the raven, ‘every word I say is true, for I have a tame beloved who hops at pleasure about the palace, and she has told me all this.’
Of course the ‘beloved’ was also a raven, for birds of a feather flock together.
‘Proclamations, adorned with borders of hearts, were immediately issued, wherein, after enumerating the style and titles of the princess, it was set forth that every well-favoured youth was free to go to the palace and converse with the princess, and that whoever should speak in such wise as showed that he felt himself at home, there would be the one the princess would choose for her husband.
‘Yes, indeed,’ continued the raven, ‘you may believe me; all this is as true as that I sit here. The people all crowded to the palace; there was famous pressing and squeezing; but it was all of no use, either the first or the second day; the young men could speak well enough while they were outside the palace gates, but when they entered, and saw the royal guard in silver uniform, and the lackeys on the staircase in gold, and the spacious saloon, all lighted up, they were quite confounded. They stood before the throne where the princess sat, and when she spoke to them, they could only repeat the last word she had uttered, which, you know, it was not particularly interesting for her to hear over again. It was just as though they had been struck dumb the moment they entered the palace, for as soon as they got out, they could talk fast enough. There was a regular procession constantly moving from the gates of the town to the gates of the palace. I was there, and saw it with my own eyes,’ said the raven. ‘They grew both hungry and thirsty whilst waiting at the palace, but no one could get even so much as a glass of water; to be sure, some of them, wiser than the rest, had brought with them slices of bread and butter, but none would give any to his neighbour, for he thought to himself, “Let him look hungry, and then the princess will be sure not to choose him.”’
‘But Kay, little Kay, when did he come?’ asked Gerda; ‘was he among the crowd?’
‘Presently, presently; we have just come to him. On the third day arrived a youth with neither horse nor carriage; gaily he marched up to the palace; his eyes sparkled like yours; he had long beautiful hair, but was very meanly clad.’
‘That was Kay!’ exclaimed Gerda. ‘Oh then I have found him,’ and she clapped her hands with delight.