Part 3

“Thus then I make you mine,” exclaimed Rudolf, drawing from his breast the magic veil, and throwing it over the head of the maiden.

But no sooner had the pure white tissue touched the dark and glowing hair, than it became smirched and soiled, and the maiden fell back upon her couch of petals, which now looked withered, broken, and decaying; her rich robe showed that it was soiled and rent in many places; her pure white skin was covered with blotches and pimples, and the delicate color of her cheeks deepened to a swarthy, lurid red; her languid eyes lost all their beauty, and glowed with a sullen fire; her graceful figure lost its elasticity, and instead of soft repose, expressed only a careless indolence and slothful abandonment. The air grew suffocating with a heavy perfume, so powerful as to be quite nauseous.

Prince Rudolf gazed a moment in horror; then, snatching the veil now limp and soiled, he rushed from the pavilion. But outside all seemed changed. The golden paths appeared to writhe about like great serpents, twisting themselves together, and utterly bewildering him who tried to follow them: all the millions of tulips in the flower beds were nodding and waving distractedly upon their stems, clashing their stiff leaves together, till the air seemed filled with the threatening music of an approaching army.

For a few moments, Prince Rudolf rushed at random hither and thither, backward and forward, round and round, but without making the least progress toward the gate. Suddenly remembering the spear which the Sage Althoso had given him, and which he had all this time carried fastened to his belt without thinking of it, he drew it and struck furiously all about him, at the paths, the beds, and the warlike tulips.

Immediately every thing resumed its former condition, and became beautiful and quiet as when the prince first entered the garden. Hastening along the now stationary path, Rudolf soon found himself before the entrance gate. But the stiff leaves did not now yield before him; on the contrary, turning their sharp edges toward him, one close above the other, they presented an impenetrable barrier. Rudolf laughing, touched them with the point of his spear, and instantly they drooped, languid and broken upon their stems.

The prince leaped through, and found himself again in the wild forest, but all trace of a path had disappeared; and the bewildered youth might have exhausted himself in useless struggles, had not the loud neighing of Sunbeam, who had become very impatient, directed the prince to the place where he had left him. Again mounting his horse, Rudolf rode slowly on, thinking deeply of what he had just seen. Taking the veil from his breast, he regarded it sorrowfully, thinking it quite ruined; but, to his surprise, it was fresh and pure as when Althoso first gave it to him. “Thanks, dear veil,” murmured the prince, replacing it in his bosom; and, fixing his eyes vacantly upon Sunbeam’s head, he again rode on many a long mile, till the stopping of the horse caused him to look around.

To his great surprise he found himself in a dense jungle. The very trees were different from any thing he had seen before. Oaks, walnuts, and birches had disappeared, and instead, on every side, rose the stately palm, the graceful banana, and the gigantic ferns of the tropics. Around and among these trees climbed flaunting vines, loaded with scarlet flowers, while innumerable birds of the most gorgeous plumage, but of harsh and startling note, flitted about, looking like flying blossoms from the drooping vines.

Sunbeam had stopped in the centre of a little open space, shaded by the nodding heads of the palms; and the creepers, which had leaped across from side to side, forming a living canopy to this little glade. On every side further progress was stopped by the dense foliage, except one little path just wide enough for the prince to pass, but not for Sunbeam. Leaving the horse, who neighed uneasily at seeing his master disappear, Rudolf entered the narrow path, which was bordered on each side by immense vines of the cactus plant interlacing themselves overhead, and so loaded with flowers that not a stem or thorn was visible. The pathway was illuminated, and the fiery hue of the flowers exhibited by the light of myriads of fireflies who flitted in every direction, now darting into the royal purple heart of a speciocissimus; now poising themselves on the pink corolla of a truncatus, now bending lightly the silvery stamens of a gloriosus, and then settling upon the tangled curls of the prince’s head. All at once the path ended at the entrance of a glade, similar to that which he had first entered; only in this, the very ground was covered with cactus blossoms, placed so closely together as to leave no trace of earth or vine visible, and forming a carpet such as no weaver on earth could equal. All around the sides and overhead climbed the vines and swung the blossoms, screamed the birds, and flitted the fireflies.

As prince Rudolf stood entranced at the entrance of this flower palace, he was saluted by a shower of silvery pollen, which was thrown in his face and all over him, while a loud peal of shrill laughter made him wipe his eyes and look hastily round. Just above his head, in a loop of the strong vine, he saw a slender figure clad in a gauzy green dress, trimmed round the skirt and neck with a border of scarlet blossoms, a wreath of which also crowned the long, dark hair which flowed loosely about her pliant form and encircled her slender waist.

Holding the vine lightly with one hand, the laughing, teasing girl stripped from the blossoms near her the silvery pollen, and dashed it in the upturned face of the prince, who, entering into the frolic with the thoughtless gayety of a boy, pelted her in turn with whole handfuls of flowers which he stripped from the vines near him, at first carefully through fear of the thorns, but more recklessly when he perceived, that, instead of standing out from the stem, these obliging spines folded themselves close down upon it, and thus were perfectly harmless. At last, Rudolf began to pursue the laughing, mocking maiden up and down the ladder-like vines, sometimes almost grasping her fluttering robe, then seeing her place herself at one bound far beyond his reach, only to peep laughingly out at him from her flowery hiding-place. At last, weary and hopeless of success, prince Rudolf descended to the ground, and, throwing himself upon the flower carpet, pretended to be asleep.

Soon he perceived by a light crackling of the branches that the green-robed maiden was also descending and approaching him. Presently, through his half-closed eyes, he could distinguish her flitting about her gleaming bower, until at last she threw herself down also to repose after the mad chase.

Taking carefully from his bosom the gauzy veil, the prince silently approached the maiden, who now slept, or at least pretended to, and with a sudden movement threw it over her graceful figure.

The effect, though different, was as startling as with the tulip princess. From the wreath upon her head, from the girdle about her waist, from the borders of her robe, sharp, piercing thorns projected in every direction, rending and tearing the poor veil into tatters, while the closed eyes of the maiden flew open to emit rays of furious anger, while her full red lips curved themselves into a scornful, withering smile; and with those pretty fingers, which had so gracefully thrown flowers at the prince, but which were now armed each with a long, claw-like talon, she sought to rend away the veil, which embarrassed her motions, that she might rush upon the astonished youth.

Rudolf did not wait for her to free herself, but, seizing a fragment of the veil, he turned and rushed into the flowery passage, which was now dark and gloomy, for the fireflies had all hidden themselves; and from between the gay flowers at the sides, overhead, and underfoot, long thorns projected venomously, and would have entirely stopped any progress on the part of the prince, had he not laid about on every side with his spear, and thus succeeded, though not without the greatest difficulty, in regaining the spot where he had left Sunbeam, whom he found surrounded by furious parrots, macaws, and other tropical birds, who, flinging themselves at him, hit him with their long beaks, and tore him with their talons, so that the poor creature’s cries filled the whole forest.

With great difficulty and by the free use of his spear, Rudolf succeeded in driving them away, and then, perceiving a slight opening in the jungle, he threw himself into it; and finally, just as the last rays of daylight were dying away, he and Sunbeam found themselves, faint, weary, and exhausted, torn with thorns and wounded by fierce birds, once more upon the turfy road, which they had so unfortunately quitted. Taking some food and a little silver cup from his wallet, the prince threw himself upon the ground beside a cool spring, whose trickling music had betrayed its vicinity, and, having eaten, drank, and bathed, pillowed his head upon Sunbeam’s shoulder, and slept peacefully all through the night.

With the first blush of morning, prince Rudolf arose and refreshed himself with a simple repast, and a long draught of water from the little rivulet, whose icy coldness in that sultry summer weather much surprised him. “I will follow the stream a little way, and see whence it draws this pure, cold water, while poor Sunbeam finishes his breakfast.”

Murmuring these words half aloud, the prince fastened the bridle in such a manner that the horse should have full liberty to graze, yet be prevented from escaping, and proceeded slowly along the bank of the little stream, which, murmuring and complaining, grew more and more narrow, and tempted the youth from one bend to another, by promising to diminish to its fountainhead within a short distance.

At last, just as Rudolf, somewhat vexed at his frequent disappointments, was about to turn back, a gleam of some large object like a house shone through the trees in the rays of the rising sun, and the prince hastened to turn a sharp, projecting bend of the stream, to see more clearly what this white building could be in the lonely forest. As he turned the angle of the stream he started in astonishment.

Close beside the fountain of the rivulet rose a white marble pavilion, its slender columns sculptured to represent lily stems, with the flowers rising as a wreath about the light and graceful roof.

In the centre of the marble floor stood a chair and footstool, also of marble, and seated upon it, as upon a throne, was a fair and stately woman, upright and immovable, her abundant flaxen hair braided and carried about her head in the form of a crown, which seemed indeed a far more fitting ornament to her queenly beauty than a simple wreath. Her robe was of a stiff, white silk, embroidered with gold thread; upon her arms and throat were golden ornaments set with pearls; in her beautiful hand, white and cold as marble, she held as a sceptre a magnificent lily, fit emblem of her queenly beauty.

Rudolf gazed silently a few moments in admiration of that fair and sovereign face; then, seeing that her cold blue eyes did not turn toward him, he ventured to steal softly up behind her and to throw over that regal head the magic veil.

For a moment there was no change; then, as the prince gazed eagerly yet half regretfully at the proud, handsome face beneath the folds, and wondered if his search was over, a slight shudder passed through that motionless form; the faint rose tinge faded utterly from the cheek and lip; the pale blue eyes lost all color; the hair became white as the brow it surrounded, and, where Rudolf had found a stately queen, he now beheld only a marble statue.

As he gazed horror stricken, the veil, stiffening as if frozen, broke in two pieces, and with a light, tinkling sound fell upon the marble floor.

Already a death chill ran through the veins of the young prince, and he was on the point of sinking down lifeless at the feet of the marble lily queen, when with a strong effort he snatched the veil from the floor, and hastened as quickly as his torpid limbs would allow from that icy throne. Pursuing again the windings of the brook, he soon reached the side of his good horse, and, mounting hastily, put him to his speed. For a considerable time he continued his journey without meeting with any adventure of importance; but it so happened one day, as he was dreaming of his father’s court and of what they would say to his adventures, that he seemed suddenly enveloped in a soft and fragrant air, while his ears were greeted with the warblings of hundreds of merry little birds.

Turning suddenly, he perceived a wide and gently ascending path leading off from the main road. Down this path came the soft gush of perfume and music which had aroused him.

Again did the prince find himself overshadowed with festooning vines; but this time they were roses, which peeped and nodded to him at every turn, roses whose soft petals fluttered down upon his head and carpeted his path, while their delicate fragrance filled the air. Roses of every hue and degree; white, blush pink and deepest crimson, single roses and double roses, climbing roses and tree roses, moss roses and thornless roses; every rose that ever bloomed on this round earth clustered along that pathway, each crowding before its neighbor to look at the handsome prince, and nod a joyous welcome to him.

Dismounting from his horse and holding his plumed cap in his hand, Rudolf walked slowly along the path, hoping, at every turn, to find the divinity of this rose Eden. Nor had he long to look, for as the path, making a sudden turn, came to an end, Rudolf saw before him a bower formed by two graceful birches, which, arching toward each other, supported, the one a white, the other a crimson climbing rose, which, in their riotous luxuriance, having clothed every twig of the bending birches with their blossoms, and interlaced above, waved exultingly in the air their graceful, verdant limbs, as if to boast triumphantly of having overcome every obstacle.

Upon a gently sloping bank beneath this odorous canopy reclined a graceful maiden, clothed in a pure white robe, her golden hair curling loosely about her snow-white shoulders, and her blue eyes gently beaming with love and purity. A few moss-rose buds nestling at her bosom, and a slender garland of wild roses about her head, were her only ornaments. Upon her finger sat a ring-dove, to whose plaintive cooing the maiden replied with soft caresses. A pair of humming-birds buzzed about her head, plunging their dagger-like bills into the roses of her garland, while a honey-bee loaded himself with sweets from the buds at her bosom. All about her feet bloomed the wild roses, and a tall bush of sweetbriar nodded caressingly over her fair head.