La Montaña Dorada

Then the Baron told me of that terrible day. "On the day of the sacrifice, I was filled with abhorrence for my task. I did not want to go to the market-place. But all the other Bishops of the land came and bowed before me, they presented me with a staff encrusted with diamonds and said, 'You are the greatest among us!' I was vain and proud, I listened to their praises. I said to myself, 'This last time I will do it.'

"But when you came to me in the name of Rabbi Israel, I knew that my time had come. Still I was vain, and wanted to finish the service, to listen to the plaudits of the people. So I said to you, 'I will come at the end of the service.' But when the Baal Shem Tov sent you a second time to call me, I knew that I had to go at once. And I went.

"I will tell you what happened when I was alone in that room with the Rabbi Israel. He said to me, 'Sell all your goods, and divide the fortune into three parts. With one part buy your freedom. The second part give to the poor. With the third part retire to some far country, do good deeds, repent, and because of the holiness of your forefathers there is still hope that you will be pardoned your sins.'

"And Rabbi Israel said to me, 'When a man comes to you and tells you your own story, then you will know that your sins have been absolved.'

"When you came," said the Baron to Reb Yacob, "I recognized you at once as the messenger who spoke to me at the services in that city in Turkey. But when

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you could not remember anything, I thought, 'It is a sign that I can never be pardoned.' And when you started to go away, I thought, 'I am lost.'

"But now I know that the Baal Shem Tov has interceded for me in Heaven, and I am saved!"

Then the Baron gave Reb Yacob half of his fortune. And Reb Yacob knew that his days of wandering were over. He never ceased praising the name of the Master whose wisdom was a light on earth during his life, and after his death.

THE BOOK OF MYSTERIES

[figure]

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THE BOOK OF MYSTERIES

All of the knowledge of Power that the Baal Shem Tov ever possessed was contained in the secret book that he had received from Rabbi Adam.

After the Baal Shem had returned from his journey to the Ancient Land, he prepared for his journey to eternity.

Then Rabbi Adam came down to the Baal Shem Tov and said, "You have no more need of this Book. The Book is in your heart."

Rabbi Israel asked, "Who shall have it after me?"

That was the Book of Mysteries that had been given only to seven. It was given to Adam, and to Abraham, to Joseph, and to Joshua ben Nun, to Solomon, and to Rabbi Adam, and to Rabbi Israel, son of Eleazer.

And the eighth one to possess the Book of Wisdom shall be Messiah, Son of David.

The Baal Shem Tov and Rabbi Adam went up into the mountains. They found a great stone. Rabbi Adam touched the stone, and the stone split open. Within the stone, Rabbi Israel placed the Book of Wisdom. Then he touched the stone, and the stone closed.

RABBI NACHMAN OF BRATZLAW

[figure]

p. 178 p. 179

RABBI NACHMAN OF BRATZLAW

GREAT-GRANDSON OF THE BAAL SHEM TOV

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[THE TREE OF THE BAAL SHEM TOV. Drawing by Meyer Levin]

Click to enlarge
THE TREE OF THE BAAL SHEM TOV. Drawing by Meyer Levin

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THE DYNASTY

Udel, the daughter of the Baal Shem Tov, had watched his scholars dancing at the Simchas Torah feast, and had given her shoe to Yehiel when he dropped his own shoe; then Udel and Yehiel were married, and of their union three children were born.

One was Baruch, who remained in Medzibuz, and became known as Reb Baruch of Medzibuz. Another was Moses Chaim Ephraim who became Rabbi of Salidikov. And their daughter was named Fiege. Fiege grew to be a woman of wonderful understanding, for in her was the spirit of holiness that had been in her mother Udel, and in her grandfather Rabbi Israel.

In Horodenka there lived a Chassid named Rabbi Nachman, who had a son called Simcha, which means joy. Simcha was not learned, but a simple-hearted man; and Simcha married Fiege.

Their son was called Nachman. In him there flamed again that strange and wondrous glory that had been in his great-grandfather, Rabbi Israel the Baal Shem Tov, for the stream of glory flowed unbroken through the generations.

Nachman was born in Medzibuz on the Sabbath of the first of the month of Nisan, in 1772. As soon as he could go about alone, the boy would creep away to the grave of his great-grandfather, the Baal Shem Tov, and by the graveside he would remain, sitting quietly, with the far smile of one who listens to pleasant words. A stream was not far away, and the burial place was soft with long grass and shaded with trees; it was not a place of death but of life; all day the sunlight shimmered among the trees.

The boy Nachman could read almost as soon as he

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could speak. So great was his love of learning that when his teacher arose to leave at the end of their hours of study the boy would run and fetch his own pennies, and give them to the teacher, that he might remain a while longer and explain another page of the Talmud.

Then he learned of piety, and of fasting, and of the rigours of the purifying bath called the mikweh. On the coldest night of winter, the boy Nachman crept from his house, and stole into the house of the mikweh. He broke the ice over the water, and descended into the purifying bath, and remained there long, as in a pleasant summer stream. In the day, the elders saw the marks of his bare feet in the snow.

A great feast was held in the household in Medzibuz when Nachman reached his thirteenth birthday, and was ready to perform the service of manhood. At that time, his uncle, Rabbi Moses Chaim Ephraim of Salidikov, examined him in learning, and was astounded at the knowledge of the boy. "He will be the greatest of all the Tsadikim," his uncle said.

The next year, Nachman was married to the daughter of a wealthy merchant of Husiatyn, in Podolia, and he went to live in the house of his father-in-law while he continued his deep studies. It was then that he gave himself over to the study of the mysteries in the Cabbala, and of the writings of the great Cabbalist Isaac Luria, who lived in the Holy Land from 1534 to 1572. Bible, Talmud, and Cabbala he studied together. Often he performed the great fast from Sabbath eve to Sabbath eve, and purified himself by the severest rigours known to the ardour of the Chassidim,

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that he might be worthy to receive the deepest secrets.

Then he came to the truth that the Baal Shem Tov had known. And he found the living Joy everywhere, he heard the melody that hovered about the trees and stones, that came from the tall reeds that grew by the river. The woods became as filled with delightful mysteries to him as was the Book of the Zohar; and he went often into the forest, to meditate.

Sometimes he rode there on a horse; but he would get down from the horse, and walk about, and muse, and lose himself; and sometimes the animal would return alone to Husiatyn, while Nachman remained many days in the forest, without food.

Nachman had a small boat, and often he would float upon the river, and go close to the shore, and lie in his boat among the reeds.

After a few years, he left the village of his father-in-law and went to live in Modvediovka, where he soon became known as a Tsadik. Here, too, he was much in the fields and in the hills, for there he felt himself nearest heaven. "I go upon a way where no man has passed before," he said, "but even though the way is new, it is very old." And this is found later, in one of his wondrous fables.

It is told that once he had to pass the night in a cabin newly made of hewn logs. The following morning he was asked how he had slept. "I could not sleep," he said, "for there was moaning all about me all night long." No one knew where the sounds of moaning might have come from; but he knew. It was the moaning of the trees that had been cut down in their prime; of their logs the cabin had been built.

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Nachman remained in Modvediovka until 1798. On Passover Eve, in 1798, Nachman remained long in the mikweh. When he came from the purifying waters, and spoke the words of the holiday ceremonial, "Next year in Jerusalem," there was deep meaning in his words.

That year he told his household that he must journey to the Holy Land. He had no means with which to make the voyage, for he was poor, having always given away whatever possessions came to him. There was not even money for his wife and daughters to live upon while he was away. Therefore he sent his wife to be a cook, and his daughters took places as servant girls, and Nachman went on his way on foot to Odessa.

There he took ship to Stamboul, and there again he took ship for Haifa. But the fleet of the Emperor Napoleon was in those waters, and the ship became entangled amongst the fleet, and there was great peril of death.

At last Rabbi Nachman came to Haifa, but among the Arabs he was thought to be a spy of the Emperor's forces, and they made great hardships for him. But on Rosh Ha-Shana of 1799 he was free in Haifa, and he remained the whole winter of that year in the Holy Land. He went on foot to the grave of the great Cabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria, and to the grave of the father of Cabbala, Rabbi Simeon ben Yochai.

Then, he declared, a new life began for him. "All that has been before was as the life within the fruit before it is ripe." For now he saw the teaching of his great-grandfather in its truest light, and he saw that his own teaching had its roots in the same source as did the teaching of Moses. And he was not afraid to

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number himself among the greatest of the Tsadikim. "Since the Jews were dispersed from the Holy Land," he said, "there have been four great periods of learning, and at the centre of each epoch stood a chosen one. These are the four chosen teachers: Rabbi Simeon ben Yochai, Rabbi Isaac Luria, Rabbi Israel, and Rabbi Nachman."

He returned to Podolia, and there it was known that he judged himself the leader of the Tsadikim. But the other Tsadikim were strong against him, and hostile to his power. The great Tsadik known as the Seer of Spohlia mightily opposed the teachings of Rabbi Nachman, and was so violent in his attack upon the returned pilgrim that Nachman fled to the town of Zlotopoli, and at last journeyed to the powerful Rabbi Levi Isaac of Berditchev to ask for his aid against the Spohliar Zaydeh.

In 1802, Nachman left Zlotopoli for Bratzlaw, a city strong in Chassidim, and there he began his greatest work.

"A teacher must clothe his thoughts in wonderful raiment," he said, and so he began to tell his wondrous fables.

Many have their source in events of his own life; others in the books of mystery. The tale of the Wind that Overturned the World tells of a King and his Court, all together they comprise ten personages, corresponding to the Ten Sphiroth known in Cabbala, and those who know may find further meanings in those realms.

Rabbi Nathan of Nemirow, the most faithful of Nachman's disciples, often wrote down Nachman's

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tales as they had been told, word for word, "for each word is holy," he said, "and great mysteries are contained in these fables." Many tales were never written down, for Nathan was not always present; and many tales were repeated to him and written down after they had been told. The tales are so filled with hidden and visible holiness, that they may be related as prayers in the House of Study.

Rabbi Nathan remembered how some of the tales came to be told. "At the end of the year 1806," he says, "after the death of his son Solomon Ephraim, Rabbi Nachman journeyed to Modvediovka; and it was there that he began to relate the first tale, of the child that was lost. When he came home from Modvediovka, I visited him, and he said, 'On the way, I told this tale.'" And so the tale of the Lost Princess was told again, for it was the tale of a precious child lost to its father.

Another time, one of the disciples spoke to Rabbi Nachman of the upheaval brought into the world by Napoleon, "a man of low birth who has become an emperor!"

"How do you know," said Rabbi Nachman, "whose soul is within him? For it may be that his soul was exchanged in the nurseries of heaven, and is truly the soul of an emperor!" Then he began to tell the tale of the King's Son and the Servant's Son, that they might understand his meaning.

Once, it is remembered, he told a tale that lasted for two hours. All who heard it were so rapt in wonder and exaltation that when they came out of the dream of the story, they could remember only fragments of what they had heard.

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On the eve of a holy Sabbath, the scholars were discussing a letter in which Rabbi Nathan of Nemirow had written that "they should be joyful." Rabbi Nachman heard their discussion and said, "I will tell you how once they were joyful." Then he began to tell the tale of the Seven Beggars.

Rabbi Nathan was not there, but a fellow-scholar hastened to Nemirow and told him that the Master had begun the relation of a new tale, more wondrous, more intricate than any of the other stories. And the scholar repeated to Rabbi Nathan the beginning of the tale. "I trembled with wonder and excitement," Rabbi Nathan wrote, "for I had heard many marvellous tales from the mouth of our Master, blessed be his memory, but none of them compared with this. So I hastened to his home." Rabbi Nathan ran from Nemirow to Bratzlaw, and remained there to hear the entire fable. For the story of the Seven Beggars took many days to tell.

In 1807 Rabbi Nachman visited several cities: Austroha, Zoslov, Dubno, Brody, and everywhere he was received with great honour, for his teachings were becoming known. But that year, consumption overtook him. He had been frail, and the journey to the Holy Land had used much of his strength. Now he was weak.

After Rosh Ha-Shanah of the year 1808, he went to Lemberg, and this voyage is veiled in mystery, but it is thought that he went to combat the teachings of Krochmal and Erter and the leaders of the movement for new learning and worldly speculation. Then he sent his faithful Nathan to prepare the publication of his teachings, in the book Likkute Maharan. This

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was done in 1808 and 1809, when Rabbi Nachman returned to Bratzlaw. But his illness was great, and he was made restless. He went from one town to another. In 1810, a fire burned down his house in Bratzlaw; and he knew that he himself was near death.

"I will not die here, but in Uman," he said. For once there had been a great slaughter of Jews in the town of Uman, and of the thousand who had been suddenly killed, many were not ready, and had not yet found strength for their journey to return to heaven; now their souls hovered wearily and homeless about the graveyard of Uman. But if a great Tsadik were to die in that town, his soul might lift all those remaining souls, and carry them with it to heaven.

Therefore Rabbi Nachman wanted to die in Uman. On the fourth day of Succoth in 1810 he called all his disciples to him and said, "When I die, burn all that I have written, and burn it upon the very ground where I lie."

When Rabbi Nathan saw his Master in the death agony, he cried, "Rabbi, Rabbi, in whose care are you leaving us?"

"I am not leaving you," Rabbi Nachman replied. "I shall remain with you, in my grave."

Early in the afternoon of the third day of the week, the Master, Rabbi Nachman, died. About him were his three most beloved disciples, Rabbi Nephtali, Rabbi Simeon, and Rabbi Nathan.

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THESE TALES CONTAIN WONDERS AND MYSTERIES THAT
ARE HIDDEN IN SECRET MEANINGS, FOR NOT ONE WORD
HERE WRITTEN IS WITHOUT DEEP PURPOSE YET
EVEN THE SIMPLE READER UNLEARNED IN THE
SECRET OF WORDS MAY READ THESE TALES
WITH AWAKENING, FOR THEIR POWER IS SO
GREAT THAT NO MAN MAY READ THEM
IN VAIN, AND EVEN THE SIMPLE MAN
MAY SEE BEYOND THEIR FIRST
MEANING AND GLIMPSE THE
ETERNAL DELIGHTS AND
WONDERS IN THE
LIGHTNINGS
OF THEIR
TRUTH

THE LOST PRINCESS

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THE LOST PRINCESS

AND HOW SHE WAS FOUND IN THE PALACE OF PEARLS

There was a King who had six sons and but one daughter he loved his daughter more than any of his other children, and passed many hours in her company; but one day while they were together the princess displeased the King, and he cried out, "May the devil take you!"

There seemed nothing amiss that night when the princess went to bed. But in the morning she could not be found.

Then the King tore his hair for grief and guilt. "It is because of what I cried out," he said, "that she is gone."

Then the Second to the Throne, seeing the King in despair, arose and cried, "Give me a servant, and a steed, and gold, and I will go out and seek the princess."

For a long time he rode through waste land and desert in search of the missing maiden. Once as he passed in a desert he saw a road at the edge of the sand, and he thought, "I have ridden so long in the desert without meeting anyone. Perhaps the road will lead me to the city."

The road led him to a great castle guarded by hosts of warriors. The prince was afraid they would not allow him to enter the castle, but nevertheless he dismounted from his steed, and went up to them; and they allowed him to pass through the gate. Then he came in upon a magnificent courtyard, and saw a marble palace before him. He went into the palace, and walked through halls that were studded with

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alabaster pillars. Guards stood in all the passageways, but no one questioned him, and he went from room to room until he came to the chamber of the throne, and there a king was seated. Tables laden with delicate foods were along the walls of the room; the prince ate of the delicacies; then he lay down in a corner of the chamber where he might not easily be seen, and he watched to see what would happen.

Musicians played upon their instruments, and sang before the king; soon the king held out his hand and commanded that the queen be brought. Then the music became more joyous, and people danced in the court, and made merry, and drank, for the queen would soon appear.

When the queen came into the chamber she was given a smaller seat next to the throne; the wanderer looked upon her and saw that she was indeed the princess he sought. And as she looked out over the room she saw the man withdrawn into an obscure corner, and she recognized him. She got down from her throne and went to him and said, "Do you not know me?"

"You are the princess!" he said. "But how have you come to this place?"

"The King let fall an angry word," she said. "He cried, 'May the evil one take you!' and this is the palace of evil."

"The King is grief-stricken because of what he has done, and I have sought for you these many years," the wanderer told her. "How may I take you away?"

"You cannot take me from this place," she said, "except that you first go and select a place for yourself, and there you must remain for an entire year,

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thinking only of my deliverance, longing and hoping to rescue me, and on the last day of the year you must not eat a particle of food, but must fast, and on the last night of the year you must not sleep; then you may come to me."

He did as she told him to do. He went into the desert and remained there an entire year, and at the end of the year he did not sleep, and did not eat, but returned toward the palace of the evil one. On the way, he passed a beautiful tree heavily laden with ripe fruit, and a terrible desire came over him to taste of the apples, so he went and ate. At once he fell into a deep sleep, and he slept for a very long time. When he awoke he saw his servant standing beside him, and he cried out, "Where am I?"

"You have slept many years," the servant said; "I have waited by you, while I lived on the fruit."

Then the wanderer went to the palace and came to the princess; and she cried, "See what you have done! Because of a single day, you have lost eternity! For if you had come on that day, you might have rescued me. I know that it is difficult to refrain from eating, and it is especially difficult on the last day, for the evil spirit was strong in you on that last day. But you must go again and choose a place and remain there another year, praying, and longing, and hoping to deliver me; on the last day of that year you may eat, but you must drink no wine, for wine will cause you to sleep, and the most important thing of all is not to sleep."

He went back to the wilderness, and did as she had told him to do, but on the last day, as he was returning toward the palace, he saw a flowing spring. He said to his servant, "Look, the fountain of water is

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red, and it has an odour as of wine!" Then he knelt and tasted of the spring, and at once fell to the ground and slept. He slept for many years.

And in that time a great army of warriors passed on the road, among them were mounted riders, and carriages, and at last there came a great carriage drawn by fourteen steeds. The princess was in that carriage; but when she saw the wanderer's servant on the road, she ordered the carriage to be halted, and she went down and saw the wanderer sleeping, and she sat by him and wept. "Poor man," she said; "so many years you have sought me, and wandered so far, and endured so much pain, and yet because of a single day you have lost me, and see how you must suffer, and how I suffer because of that day!" Then she took her veil from her face; she wrote upon the veil with her tears, and left it beside him; and she got into her carriage and rode away.

After he had slept seventy years, the man awoke and asked his servant, "Where am I?" The servant told him what had happened, of the army that had passed, and how the princess had wept over him. Just then the wanderer saw the veil lying beside him, and he cried, "Where does this come from?"

"The princess left it for you," the servant said. "She wrote upon it with her tears."

He who was Second to the Throne held the veil up to the sun, and saw the marks of her weeping, and read of her grief at finding him so, and read that she was gone from the first palace of the evil one, but that he must now seek her in a palace of pearls that stood on a golden mountain. "Only there, you may find me," the princess had written.

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Then the wanderer left his servant and went alone in search of the princess.

For many years he wandered among mankind, asking and seeking for the palace of pearls upon the mountain of gold, until he knew that it was to be found upon no chart, and in no land inhabited by men, and in no desert, for he had been everywhere. But still he searched in the wilderness, and in the wilderness he came upon a giant who carried a tree that was greater than any tree that grew in the world of men. The giant looked upon the wanderer and said, "Who are you?"

He answered, "I am a man."

"I have been so long in the wilderness," said the giant, "that it is many years since I have seen a man." And he looked at the man.

The man said, "I seek a palace built of pearls upon a golden mountain."

The giant laughed, and said, "There is no such place on earth!"

But the man cried, "There is! There must be!" and he would not give up his seeking.

Then the giant said, "Since you are so obstinate, I'll prove to you that there is no such place on earth. I am the lord over all the animal kingdom, and every beast that runs over the earth, from the greatest to the tiniest, answers to my call. Surely if there were such a place as you seek, one of my creatures would have seen it." So he bent and blew on the ground, making a sound that was narrow as the call of wind in the grass, and wide as the rustling of leaves; his call spread like spreading water, and at once the beasts of the earth came running, leaping toward him: the

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timid gazelle and the wild tiger and every creature from the beetle to the great elephant, all came, and he asked of them: "Have you seen a palace of pearls built on a golden mountain?"

The creatures all answered him, "No."

Then the giant said to the man, "You see, my friend, there is no such place at all. Spare yourself, and return home."

But the man cried, "There is, there must be such a place! And I must find it!"

The giant pitied him, and told him, "I have a brother who is lord over all the creatures of the air; perhaps one of them has seen this place, for birds fly high."

Then the man went further into the wilderness, until he found another giant who carried a great tree in his hand. "Your brother has sent me to you," he said. And he told the giant of his quest. The giant whistled into the air, and his cry was like the sound of all the winds that murmur and shriek high over the earth; at once every winged creature, insect and eagle, answered his call. But none had seen a palace of pearls upon a golden mountain.

"You see," said the giant, "there is no such place at all. You had better return home, and rest yourself."

But the man cried, "There is, there must be such a place, and I will not rest until I find it!"

At last the second giant said, "I have a brother who is lord over all the winds. Go to him, perhaps he can help you."

After many years the wanderer came to the third giant, who carried a still greater tree in his hand; and the wanderer told the giant what he sought.

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Then the giant opened wide his mouth, and the call he hurled over the world was like the tumult of colliding heavens. In that instant, all the winds over the earth came rushing to him, and he asked them, "Have you seen a palace of pearls upon a mountain of gold?" But none of them had seen such a thing.

"Someone is jesting with you, and has sent you on a fool's quest," the giant said to the man. "Better go home, and rest yourself."

But the man cried, "There is, there must be such a place!" Just then another wind came hastening to the giant, and lay breathless and weary at his feet.

"You have come late!" the giant cried angrily, and he lifted the great tree to lash the wind. "Why did you come tardily to my call?"

"Master," the wind said, "I came as soon as I could, but I could not come sooner, for I had to carry a princess to a mountain of gold on which there stands a palace built of pearls."

The man heard, and was overjoyed. "Can you take me there?" he begged. The wind answered, "I can."

Then the master of the winds said to the man, "You will have need of gold, where you are going, for in that city all things are of high worth." And he took a wonderful purse, and gave it to the wanderer. "Whenever you put your hand into this bag," the giant said, "you will find it filled with gold, no matter how much gold you draw out of it."

Then the wind took up the wanderer and set him down upon the golden mountain.

The wanderer saw the palace of pearls that stood within a wonderful city, and the city was surrounded by many walls guarded by warriors. But he put his

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hand into his marvellous purse, and gave them gold, and they let him pass, and when he came into the city he found that it was a pleasant and beautiful place. Then he lived there for a long while, and there the princess lived, but in the end, with wisdom and righteousness, he took her home to the King.

THE BROKEN BETROTHAL

[figure]

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THE BROKEN BETROTHAL

AND THE PORTRAIT OVER THE FOUNTAIN

There was once an emperor who had no child to rule after him; and in another land there was a king who also was childless. The emperor went on a journey in search of a sage who might tell him how to come by a child; and the king, too, went on such a journey. King and emperor stopped one night at the same inn, though they did not know each other; the emperor, however, marked the royal manner of the stranger, and asked him,

"Are you not a king?"

The king, too, had recognized the other as a man of high birth, and he said, "I am a king; and are you not an emperor?"

Then each told the other the reason for his travels, and they agreed that when they returned to their kingdoms, and if the queen of one gave birth to a son, and the other's queen gave birth to a daughter, the two children should be betrothed.

And afterward, a daughter was born to the emperor, and a son was born to the king, but the betrothal was forgotten.

As the children grew, each was sent to a foreign land to study, and it so happened that both were sent to the same teacher. The boy and girl met, and loved one another, and agreed to marry. Then the prince took a ring and put it on the finger of the princess, and so they were wed.

But soon their parents called them home, and the princess had to return to her father the emperor, while the prince returned to the court of the king.

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[paragraph continues] The emperor's palace was filled with suitors for the hand of the princess, but she remembered that young prince from a distant land, and she would not have any of the others.

In his far country the prince was unhappy, longing day and night for his beloved; the king commanded entertainment for the boy in the palace, or rode with him over their domain, but the young man would not be cheered, and at last he fell ill of melancholy. Then the king asked the prince's servant: "Perhaps you know what troubles him?" The servant remembered the wedding, and told the king that the prince was married and longed for his bride.

"Who is his bride?" the king asked.

"A princess, the daughter of an emperor."

At this, the king recalled the betrothal he had made for his son before his son was born, and he was astonished to learn that it was indeed his betrothed that the prince had found and married. So the king wrote at once to the emperor to remind him of their meeting and of their vow.

But the emperor no longer desired such a union, and yet he could not free himself from his promise; so he sent a letter asking that the prince come to his court to be examined in his knowledge of government.

When the prince arrived in the emperor's palace he was not allowed to see his bride, but was seated alone in a room, and papers were brought to him, with questions of government. He was ill nearly to death with longing for a glimpse of his beloved, and one day as he walked by a chamber he saw her image in a mirror. Then he fainted of weakness and joy, and she saw him and ran to him and wakened him, saying,

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"I will have no other husband but you!" And he said, "But what can we do while your father is against our marriage?"

They made a plan to escape together over the sea; then they hired a ship, and crept aboard at night, and sailed away. They were happy there, for they measured their love by the depth of the sea and the height of the firmament, and all the sea and sky was their kingdom of love. But one day the vessel came to a shore, and they said, "Let us go down on land for a while."

There was a forest near the shore, and the bride and groom went into the forest. They ran, and they walked, until they were weary, and the girl said, "Let me lie down by this tree, and sleep a while." She took his ring from her finger, and gave it to the prince saying, "Watch my ring while I sleep."

When he saw that she was about to waken, he placed the ring on the ground near her hand. She awoke, and they returned to the shore. But as they were going aboard their vessel she felt her hand bare and cried, "Where is my ring?" "I put it by you when you wakened," the prince said. "I'll go and find it for you."

She waited, while he returned to the forest. He wandered one way and another, and could not find the ring, and was lost.

The princess waited a long time, and then went into the woods to seek the prince, and she wandered one way and another, and could not find him, and was herself lost.

When the prince saw that he was lost he did not know what to do, but called her name, and she did

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not hear him; he wandered still farther until at last he came out of the forest to a city. He had no money, and he needed food, so he became a servant.

Meanwhile the princess found her way out of the forest and came to the shore again; there she sat upon the sand by the sea; she lived on the fruit of the trees; each day she wandered in search of her beloved, and at night she slept in the trees.

In another land there was a rich merchant whose ships sailed on every ocean, bringing him merchandise from all corners of the world. But he was aged, and he had an only son. One day his son said to him, "Father, you are growing old, while I know nothing of the ways of commerce; what will become of your enterprise when you are gone? Then give me a ship, that I may go and learn the buying and selling of merchandise, so that I may carry on your commerce for you." He was given a ship, and he sailed from one country to another, selling goods, and buying other goods. He was very successful, so that his cargo became richer every day. When his ship was filled with spices and silks and precious rarities he sailed toward home, but one day he passed close to a shore where high trees grew, and he thought the trees were a city, and desired to see that city. But as the ship came nearer he knew that they were only trees, and then he saw what seemed to be a human being perched high in one of the trees. He went out in a small boat and came to the shore, then seeing that it was a beautiful maiden who sat in the tree, he called to her to come down, and remain with him.

She said, "I will not come to you, unless you first

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promise never to touch me before we are man and wife." This he vowed, and she came down from the tree, and was taken aboard his ship.

As they sailed on, he learned that the maiden was skilled in playing beautiful music upon many instruments, and that she could speak several languages. "Tell me, who are you?" he begged. "For I know you are nobly born!"

"Do not ask me who I am," the princess said, "for I may not tell you that until after we have been wedded."

One day he called to her and pointed to a nearing shore. "See, there is my city!" he said.

"You must go first to your people," she told him, "and inform them that you are bringing a bride who is a high-born maiden, then you must gather all of your people and lead them to greet me, and I will tell you who I am."

When the vessel was anchored she said to the young merchant, "But see, would you not give wine to all the sailors, that they may be merry for their master's wedding?" At once he brought up rare wines that he had secured on his voyage, and he gave the sailors drink. They all became drunken.

Then, when the merchant had gone to gather his relatives and bring them to greet his bride, all the sailors went ashore to make merry. As soon as the maiden found herself alone on the ship she freed the anchor, unbound the sails, and sailed away.

When the young merchant returned with his people, no ship was to be seen. "But I brought a vessel laden with precious merchandise, and a maiden to be my wife!" he cried. His father was angry and said, "You brought home nothing at all!"

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"There are my sailors!" the young man cried, and he called to the sailors, "Where is my ship?"

They all lay drunk on the wharves, and when at last they were awakened they could not remember anything that had happened, except that there had been a ship, and they had been given wine, and now there was no ship.

The aged merchant was enraged, and shouted to his son, "Leave my sight, and never return!" Then the young man went out and became a wanderer over the earth.

There was a king who liked to be where the winds blew, and therefore he built his palace upon an ocean, and watched the ships sail by. This king had no queen, for no maiden in all his land pleased him. But one day he looked out from his palace and saw a strange vessel on the sea, and on the ship he saw no sailors, but only a single maiden.

As the princess beheld the palace she thought, "What do I want of palaces?" and she turned her ship to sail away. But the king had sent out after her, and her ship was brought to his city, and she was taken before the ruler. The king saw that she was beautiful, and desired her to remain with him.

"Then promise me," she said, "that you will not touch me until we are married according to law." He promised this, and she said, "Promise also that my ship will remain untouched, for it is filled with great treasure, and when our wedding comes I shall allow the treasures to be taken from the vessel, that all may see I bring you riches, and am not a maiden of the market-place."

This too the king promised. He sent messages to

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many nations, bidding the rulers to come as guests to his wedding; and meanwhile he built a palace for the princess. She asked that eleven handmaidens be given her, and that they be daughters of high noblemen; eleven maidens came, and for each of them a separate palace was built. Every day, they sat with the princess; they sang, and made music. One day she said, "Let us go aboard my boat, and amuse ourselves." They went up on the ship, and she brought them some of the excellent wine that was on the ship, and the maidens drank, and fell asleep.

At once the princess loosed the vessel, and quickly sailed away.

That day the king looked out and saw that her ship was gone, but he did not know she had sailed upon it. "The princess will be heart-broken when she learns that her ship is lost," he said. "She must not be told suddenly." And he sent a messenger to find one of her handmaidens who might tell the princess gently of the loss of her ship.

The messenger went to the palace of the first handmaiden, but did not find anyone there, and so he went through the palaces of the eleven noble maidens, and returned to the king and said, "I have found no one." Then the king commanded that an aged woman be sent to his bride at night, to tell her gently of the loss of her treasure ship. But when the aged woman came to the bed of the princess, she did not find the bride; and when the king heard that the bride, too, was gone from her palace, he was frightened and sad.

Meanwhile the noble fathers of the eleven maidens waited for the letters that they received each day from their daughters, and when the letters did not arrive

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the noblemen came to the king's palace to see if all were well with their daughters. They found that the eleven maidens had disappeared, and no man knew what had become of them. Then the noblemen were furious, and cried, "Who knows what the king has done with our daughters!" And since they were the most powerful lords in that land, they decided that the king should be put to death. But then they thought again and said, "Perhaps he is not to blame, for his bride is also gone." So, instead, they decided that they would drive him from the kingdom, and rule in his place. The king was taken from his throne, and sent into exile.

And the maidens' ship sailed over the sea. When the eleven girls awoke, they did not remember that they had slept, but looked out and saw that the ship was far from shore, and cried, "Let us return home!" But the bride said, "Let us sail yet awhile. It is pleasant here."

Then a stormy wind came up, and they cried again, "Let us go home!"

"But we are far from home!" she said to them.

"Why did you bring us here?" the maidens begged of her.

"I was afraid that the wind might break the ship," she answered.

So they sailed on, and the eleven maidens played upon their harps and violins and flutes, and sang.

One day they saw a palace, and her companions wanted to go near it, but the princess said, "I have had enough of palaces. Indeed, I am sorry that I went near the last one." So they sailed onward, and soon they saw a hiding place upon the sea. They approached

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it, and found twelve pirates there. The pirates wanted to seize and kill them at once, but the princess said, "Who is your chief?" They showed her their leader, and she said to him, "What sort of people are you?"

He answered, "We are pirates."

"We too are pirates," she said, "but what you do by force, we do by cleverness, for we can make music and speak many languages. What good will it do you to kill us? Rather, take us as your wives, and we will bring you riches."