once upon a time in distant orient land, there lived a beautiful royal maiden, the princess zarashne. her hair was long and black as the veils of night, her arms were fair as the pink sea-shells, and her gowns were as glorious in color as the feathers of the peacock. everybody in the palace where she lived, and in the town outside the palace-walls, loved princess zarashne; even the animals who dwelt far away in the desert had heard how good and beautiful she was, and many of them came to town hoping they might see her—the lion and the tiger, and the striped zebra, the ostrich and the camel and the curious giraffe. but the keeper of the palace-gate was afraid to let them in, so the only ones who saw her were the ostrich and the giraffe, because they could look over the wall and watch her feed her gold-fish in the fountain.
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most of all she was beloved by the prince of all orient land, selim pasha the proud (a pasha is a very mighty kind of prince, who wears a turban of heavenly blue and carries a curved sword in his golden belt). selim pasha rode through the gates of the palace every morning at sunrise, on a snow-white horse, followed by a hundred soldiers on foot; on his shoulder he always carried a bird of paradise, who made sweet music for princess zarashne, and in his pocket he brought his pet white mouse to dance for her. all day long he walked with her in the garden and told her stories about the world outside the wall, where great rivers flowed, and palm-trees grew, and the yellow desert sand stretched from one end of orient land to the other. the only thing he did not tell her about was the terrible magician, who lived among the desert sands; he did not want to tell her anything that would give her bad dreams.
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the magician was a very mighty and ancient man, called bulbo. by his strange, black magic he had built himself an impregnable castle and had tamed a great river, and made it surround his castle with a deep, impassable moat. no army could ever pass these waters, or scale his ramparts of yellow sand; if he himself wanted to go out, he rode on the back of a big brown bat. all the creatures of night, the bats and owls and toads and many wicked faery sprites, dwelt with him in his castle and were his body-guard.
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now it happened that bulbo the magician had left his castle and was riding through the air high over orient land, in the night-time, as was his wont. he was unusually far from home; in fact, the first light of dawn surprised him just as his bat was fluttering over the royal gardens. the nightingale had stopped singing, and the birds of day had begun, the pansies and daisies and dreamy lotos-flowers were just waking up. then he saw what seemed to him the loveliest flower of all—it was princess zarashne sitting alone beside the gold-fish fountain, waiting for selim pasha.
bulbo spurred his bat, and swooped down among the rose-bushes like a swift, black shadow. before princess zarashne knew what had happened, he had seized her and placed her before him in the saddle between the fluttering wings of the bat, and they were rising up, up, up into the blue morning air!
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but just at this moment, the palace-gates swung open, and with a flourish of trumpets and a shout of greeting, selim pasha and his soldiers appeared. great was their horror and dismay when they found the garden empty, and heard princess zarashne cry “help, help!” far above their heads! selim pasha bared his sword and tried to reach the bat as it rose, but in vain—in the twinkling of an eye, the sorcerer had flown a thousand miles away.
“bore her away to his castle in the desert”
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in bulbo’s palace, princess zarashne found herself a prisoner. she was not cruelly treated, for bulbo liked her and made her queen of his household. she had nothing to do but water the dark poppies and nightshade and beautiful poisonous berry-bushes that grew in his garden, and make necklaces of the pearls and shells that the river laid at her feet on the yellow sands. but she was very unhappy, for her only companion was a monkey who followed her about as her servant, carrying her tea-cup and her shawls and never saying a word; and she wept to think of the days when selim pasha had walked with her by the gold-fish fountain, while the white mouse danced and the bird of paradise sang to her—for she never hoped to see the prince of all orient land again.
meanwhile, selim pasha the proud was inconsolable without his beloved princess. his soldiers could not help him against bulbo’s power, and no prophet, no wise man, no general could tell him how to get princess zarashne back. so he put on a black cloak, and put black ashes on his turban, and would not be comforted. when his people saw him in the street, and shouted: “hail, selim pasha the proud!” he would hide his face in his cloak and say:
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“nay, do not call me the proud—i am only poor selim pasha!”
then the people were very sad, and even the animals outside the gates felt mournful. the crocodiles in the rivers wept bitter tears, and the lions and tigers howled in the desert, and when the giraffes and ostriches saw that the garden was empty, they lost their appetites.
one day selim pasha met an old man who was selling bowls and vases of glass at the palace gate. because the prince was wrapped in black and walked unattended, the old man did not recognize him, and thought he was just a humble citizen.
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“good day to you,” said the old man.
the prince stopped and bowed, for it pleased his sorrowful fancy to be taken for an ordinary man.
“would you not like to buy some of my beautiful vases and bowls?” the old man continued. “i have brought them many hundreds of miles across the desert. look at them, and you will not feel so sad!”
but the prince shook his head.
“i do not want vases of glass,” he replied, “what i seek is magic knowledge!”
the old man sat down and set his vases and bowls in a dazzling row upon the pavement. they shone in all colors, like the feathers of a peacock, and reminded the prince of zarashne’s silken gowns.
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“i am old and wise,” said the vendor. “i have more knowledge of magic than any man on earth—more even than bulbo, who lives in the yellow desert. but if you would have a little—ever so little—of it, you must pay the price i ask.”
“anything, anything you desire,” cried the prince, “though you ask all the treasures of orient land!”
“i will have none of your treasures. all i ask is your service. i need an apprentice in my workshop, many hundreds of miles away across the desert, and if you will come and blow glass for me for seven years, you shall have the secret knowledge for your reward.”
the prince thought deeply for a moment. what would his people say if they ever found out that their ruler had become a glass-maker’s apprentice? but then, was not princess zarashne’s return worth any sacrifice?
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“i will go with you and be your apprentice,” said selim pasha the proud, prince of orient land, “but wait until i get a bundle of clothes, and tell the head-cook not to expect me for dinner, and ask the lord chamberlain to feed my white mouse and my bird of paradise until i come back!”
that same day they mounted camels and set out on their long journey across the desert. they passed the castle of bulbo, but the rivers that surrounded it were so wide and the ramparts of yellow sand so high that selim pasha could not see over them, though he stood on tip-toe on his camel’s hump. sadly he rode by and followed the old glass-maker to his city, many hundreds of miles away.
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when they reached the city, the old man led him to a dingy little house made of bricks and mud. it was very dark inside, for there were no windows.
“stand very still, my lad, till i light the lamp, or you will break some precious glass!” said the old man. then he struck a light, and selim pasha beheld a most wonderful sight. all about him were vases and bowls and cups of iridescent glass standing on shelves of crystal, and there were delicate flowers made of glass and glittering prisms that caught the lamplight and threw back a thousand brilliant hues.
“here you shall work for seven years,” said the old man, “and i will teach you how to make all these things, but you will have to sleep on a mat upon the floor, and eat from the bowl after i have eaten, because you are an apprentice.”
“i will do as you say,” replied selim pasha the proud.
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so the prince of orient land made glass for seven years, and slept on a mat upon the floor, and ate from the bowl after his master had eaten. when the seven years were over, his master said to him:
“selim pasha, i have taught you all there is to know about glass-making; now make me a bowl of rainbow-colored glass, so large that a man can sit within it; so bright that no one can see through the glass because of its beautiful colors; and so light that the littlest breeze may carry it away.”
“and when i have made the bowl,” said the prince, “shall i then have my reward?”
“when you have made the bowl, we will talk about your reward.”
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so selim pasha sat up three days and three nights with the glass-blower’s lamps between his knees, and the glass-blower’s rod in his mouth. finally he made a bowl so large that he himself could hide within it, so bright that no one could see through it because of its beautiful colors and so light that the littlest breeze could carry it away. then he noticed that the edge of the glass was not smooth, so he dipped his finger in water and ran it around and around.
suddenly the bowl began to sing, as glasses do when you rub around the edge—and he could understand quite plainly, what it sang! the fairies that lived in the rainbow colors were singing together:
“over the yellow desert sands,
prince of all the orient lands,
come, we will bear thee now!
o come away in thy crystal ship
and watch the ancient river slip
under thy glassy prow!”
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then he knew that in this glass was the magic that he had worked for seven years to learn. carefully he took the great bowl out of doors. it was very early in the morning, and his master was still asleep, so he wrote “goodbye” and “thank you” on the door, and making no sound, climbed into the bowl that was blazing with color in the sunlight.
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no sooner was he settled than a little breeze crept down the street, picked up the beautiful bubble, and wafted it high into the air! he floated over the roofs of the town, and he could smell the breakfasts cooking, which made him very hungry. then he passed over the green meadows that surrounded the town, and could see cows and oxen below him that looked no bigger than noah’s-ark animals. at last he came to the desert and by sunset he had reached the river that had flowed around bulbo’s castle. then he felt the glass bubble sinking, down, down, down, until it rested like a ship on the river, and he saw the dim green waters gliding under him.
finally the great bowl drifted ashore. princess zarashne was near the river gathering pearls and shells, and when she saw the beautiful crystal sphere, she ran swiftly and called to bulbo:
“o bulbo, bulbo, come and see what the river has brought to you!”
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bulbo came, and looked in amazement at the huge bowl. fortunately he was a little man and doubled up with age so that he could not see over the edge of the bowl, and of course he could not see through it, because of its beautiful colors. only princess zarashne could look over the edge, and when she saw who was inside, she could not suppress a little scream, though selim pasha had made her a sign to be quiet.
“what is it?” asked bulbo, when he heard her scream.
“i saw a spider,” she replied quickly.
bulbo called six of his black sprites to take the bowl on their shoulders and carry it to his flower garden. when they had set it down among the roses and pansies and dreamy lotos-flowers, bulbo went indoors for his supper, but zarashne stayed outside and looked into the glimmering depths of the bowl.
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“o zarashne, beautiful zarashne,” whispered selim pasha, “i have come to set you free!” and all the evening they whispered together, while the garden went to sleep and the moon rose and the nightingales began to sing. then bulbo came to the window with a candle, and called:
“zarashne! it is time for you to go to bed!”
but zarashne did not heed him, and at last he came out into the garden.
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“why do you lean over that bowl and look into it all the time, zarashne? i have called you seven times and you have not answered me!” he said in great anger.
“i see the reflection of my face,” replied princess zarashne, and continued to gaze down and whisper to selim pasha.
“if you do not come into the house,” cried bulbo, “i will break the bowl!”
then zarashne was frightened and would have followed him, but she could not tear herself from her lover, who was saying:
“goodnight, goodnight, most beautiful flower of allah’s garden! goodnight, my princess!” so she lingered just another moment and then another, till bulbo was too angry to call her any more.
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“you are a vain, vain woman,” he exclaimed, “to gaze so long at your own image, and i will put an end to it.” he tore a big branch from the nearest pomegranate tree, and before she could prevent it, he struck the beautiful bowl with all his might. it flew into a thousand glittering fragments; but in the midst of it stood selim pasha the proud, prince of orient land, his sword bared and shining in the moonlight.
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“treason,” screamed the little sorcerer, “treason!” and fell on his knees before the prince. then bulbo’s servants, his bats and sprites, came running to help him. but when bulbo had broken the crystal bowl, the rainbow fairies who had been imprisoned in the glass, were all set free, and they took splinters of the glass for swords, and fought a dreadful battle with bulbo’s sprites, among the poppies and nightshade and the lovely poison berry-bushes. at last the rainbow fairies were victorious, and selim pasha sheathed his terrible sword.
“i will not kill you, bulbo, because you are small and old,” said the magnanimous prince. “but you shall be banished.”
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then the prince gathered up the fragments of his bowl, which looked like common window glass now, for the rainbow fairies had taken all of the beautiful colors with them, and taking his glass-blower’s lamp, he blew the pieces into a perfect sphere all around old bulbo. then he drew a great breath—poof! and the globe rose into the air, higher and higher among the clouds, till the winds wafted it thousands of miles away. people who saw it and the little man inside, thought it was the moon. where it came down was never known, but old bulbo had vanished forever from orient land.
“but now we are in bulbo’s palace,” said princess zarashne, “and your crystal ship is gone; how shall we get across the river?”
“have no fear,” replied the prince, “the fairies will help us.” then he called them all together, and they went down to the yellow sands, where they spread their shining wings and made a rainbow bridge over which selim pasha the proud led his princess back to orient land.
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his people were overjoyed to see him again, for they had long thought him dead. his soldiers had forgotten how to march, for they had been idle so long, and when they tried to blow the trumpets, they found them all rusty and useless. the lord chamberlain was discovered hiding under the throne, for he had forgotten to feed the white mouse and the bird of paradise, who would have starved if the head-cook had not taken pity on them every day. but selim pasha pretended not to notice anything that was wrong; he invited everybody to his marriage-feast, for the lovely princess zarashne became his queen, and they spread a banquet-table three miles long so even the humblest beggar could partake. there was another table, too, for the animals who had not eaten with a real appetite for seven years, and were awfully hungry now. and at this great banquet selim pasha told the story of his adventures. some believed his tale and others did not, but they all rejoiced to have him back, and he and queen zarashne lived together in peace and happiness and ruled their people wisely for the rest of their lives.
