Finally On The Coastal Waters

This is the first story in this series, and it is based on a book of stories of Portuguese origin.  The original book calls itself a collection of fairy tales, although the plot of this particular story does not involve any magic.  Nor does its writing, as far as FOCW is concerned, and he has therefore taken a very few liberties here and there to make the thing more readable.  It’s probably reasonably amusing for a first effort.

I will tell you a story that begins with a wicked man, and, what is worse, of one who was a king and should have been a good and wise leader instead of the lazy and bad man that he was. He was king of a part of Lusitania where distances were great and people happy, as long as they didn’t think too much about their king. This king was a widower and had three sons. As the years passed and the three made their own friends and needed less of their father’s companionship, the king began to feel lonely and felt that he would like another queen to occupy the second throne that always looked so empty standing there beside his in the audience chamber. So, after thinking things over, he went on a visit to a neighbouring kingdom, where a princess lived whom he had met and admired, intending to ask her to marry him. The princess was only too happy to marry the king and become queen of his country, but being over-indulged and thoroughly spoilt she thought only of her own comfort and convenience and, before she said yes, she asked the king what he was going to do with his sons. She did not want the bother of looking after three teenage boys, let alone the trouble of finding wives for them and arranging their weddings. Now the king was a bad man, as I have told you, and though he had always indulged his sons, he had never really loved them, and so he said to the princess:

“If you feel that my sons will be a hindrance to our happiness, I’ll soon dispose of them. I’ll send them away to a place where you will never see them or hear about them. They need never worry you.”

Happy with that assurance, the princess agreed to marry the king, who gave her a magnificent engagement ring and then set off back to his own kingdom to make arrangements for the new queen. The first thing he had to do was to get rid of his sons, and he thought that he had better do this before telling anyone of his decision to marry again.

Now the king’s domains included part of the coast where the town of Faro stands, and there was a tall tower from which, in the old days, guards kept watch for pirates from Africa or raiding Norsemen from the lands far to the north. This was called the tower of Montecorvo.

One day, soon after his return, the king sent for his sons and said to them:

“Get yourselves ready for a little expedition. I am going to take you to the tower of Montecorvo and there I’ll show you something you’ve never seen before in all your lives.”

The boys, eager for any little adventure and quite unsuspecting, because they loved their father and could not even dream that he should ever do them any harm, got themselves ready and off they all went.

It took them the best part of a day to reach the tower and the boys were quite tired when they arrived, so the king took them inside and told them to rest, while he went to a nobleman who lived nearby, who was one of his subjects, to arrange for servants and food to be sent to the tower. It was suggested they should explore the tower afterwards and he would then show them the wonderful thing they had come to see. The three trusting boys agreed, of course, and flung themselves down on couches to rest their weary limbs. Then the king went out and fastened the gate of the tower so securely that his sons could not possibly get out. Nor was there any other means of escape, for the tower was built rather like a lighthouse and there was no window or other opening in it sheer walls for a height of sixty feet. And so the king rode away.

When their father did not return the boys became worried, and, when they found the gate so securely fastened that they could not open it whatever they did, they were dismayed and did not comprehend. At first they could not believe that their father had left them there on purpose, but when the next day men came with baskets of food, which they pushed in through a tiny hatch in the postern – far too small for even the slimmest boy to squeeze through – the boys realized that the king must have planned it all, and the betrayal was unlike anything they had ever felt before.

Every day the king sent men with food to his sons, but on his wedding day he forgot to give the usual order and when he and the queen went on their honeymoon he never gave his three sons another thought. Fortunately there was a well in the little courtyard of the tower, so that the three boys were not tormented with thirst, but they became hungrier and hungrier. Hard as they looked, they could find nothing to eat anywhere in the great tower and soon they were really starving. After some days the oldest brother died, and a day later the second eldest also died, so that only the youngest was left. When he woke up that morning to find that he was the only one still alive, in desperation he climbed up to the flat roof of the tower with the last of his strength, and, looking over the parapet, he saw a ship sailing past, so close that he could hear the voice of the men on deck and see their faces.

The prince shouted as loudly as he could and waved his scarf to attract their attention. His voice was so faint, owing to his weakness, that the sailors could not hear him; but someone saw him waving and the prince watched one of the sailors run below, after which an officer, perhaps the captain, came on deck, the ship turned head into the wind, the sails came down with a run and a boat was lowered and rowed to land.

Briefly, shouting from the top of the tower, the prince told them of his predicament. One of the sailors managed to climb up to him, while the others went back to the ship and fetched axes and hammers with which they eventually broke down the great gate that gave access to the tower.

The sailors and their captain were horrified that anyone as young and lovely as the prince should have been treated in such a cruel way. While some of them stayed behind to dig a grave for the two princes who had died, the others took the youngest prince aboard. With him he had only a small chest into which he had put his brothers’ clothes and jewels. The captain received him most kindly, and the ship’s cook made him the nicest things he knew how, and the sailors gathered him into their midst and were exceedingly gentle and tender to him, and before long the prince was feeling much better. When you are young, you cannot despair for long and soon the prince was looking forward to the future, though he had no idea what he was going to do.

The ship that had rescued him was sailing on to a distant land, so it was decided that they would put the prince ashore at the next port they came to along the coast. This happened to be the capital of a neighbouring kingdom. The sailors helped the prince ashore, and with heavy hearts and many backward glances, they left him standing on the dock with his chest of clothes, and as the ship sailed off, they waved and waved until they were out of sight.

Now, for the first time, the horror of the prince’s predicament came over him. Here he was in a strange country with no friends or relations to help. No home to go to and no money. Almost on the point of tears, he stood there wondering what to do, when he saw an old woman coming towards him. The old woman had a kind, crinkly face and nice smiling eyes and the prince felt sure that she would help, so he went up to her and asked the old woman if she knew of anyone who could give him a meal and a bed for the night, adding that he was willing to work for it.

“Aye, if it be an honest day’s working and toiling that ye be a-wanting,” said the old woman, “bring yoursel’ along wi’ me and help me to draw the water and bear it to the place in whose service I have been for lo these many, many years. They will give ye a meal there, surely, and in the evening when our work is done, ye can come back wi’ me to my little cottage and lay yer weary limbs a-down.”

“What house do you work for?” the prince asked.

“Aye, I draw the water fer the queen’s own palace, surely” answered the old woman, “and though ye be askin’ fer work in the streets, yer fine clothes and yer bonnie face do tell ye’ve seen such a place as a palace before, if mine old eyes still tell me true,” and she gave the prince a wink.

The prince kept his own council at the old woman’s remarks, but he agreed to help her. As he could not do such work in his fine clothes, he went to the old woman’s cottage where, finding a horse-skin, he made himself a rough garment with it. In this new outfit, nobody would have taken him for a prince.

Every day the prince went to the well and helped the old woman draw water and carry the buckets and pitchers to the palace, where people began calling him Horse-skin, because of his clothes.

One day, as he came into the palace yard, walking lightly and gracefully with a pitcher of water balanced on his head, it struck a page, who had often noticed him before and been impressed by his beauty and the elegance of his figure and bearing, that he had not been born to such drudgery and that there must be some mystery about him. Going up to him, the page said most respectfully:

“Do you know that our good queen is going to give a ball every night for three nights running, so that she may choose a husband from among the guests? The handsomest boy is to get a prize and to the boy of her choice the queen will give a ring. I wish you would go,” and the page smiled, shyly and prettily.

“What business has a poor boy like me at court balls?” the prince said. “That’s all right for grand gentlemen, but I shall be so tired tonight that I shall only want to go to bed and sleep.”

That is what the prince said, but as soon as he had done his work he went home and, taking off his clothes of horse’s skin, he washed all over and put on one of the lovely suits that had belonged to his elder brother. Then he sneaked out and, going to the palace, slipped into the brilliantly lit ballroom without being announced. Soon heads were turning and people whispering as they asked each other who this beautiful boy was. The queen was not long in noticing him too, and she came straight up and led him away to dance with her. In fact he made all the other gentlemen very jealous because she danced with him so often. She paid him the nicest compliments and asked him various things about himself most of which he cleverly avoided answering. Towards morning the prince managed to slip away without being seen, and a few hours later he was back at work dressed in his horse-skin garment again, drawing and carrying water for the palace.

As he went to and fro, he again met the page who again told him that he ought to go to the ball that night, but the prince just pretended to be annoyed and told him that balls were not for him, and that the evening would find him in the old woman’s cottage sleeping the sleep of the just, and he strode away, leaving the page to give a wistful sigh. But as soon as the prince returned home, he slipped out of his rough horse-skin and put on another suit that had been his second brother’s and which set off his beauty even better than the first suit had.

As soon as he entered the ballroom on this second night, several men came hurrying up, ostensibly to be gracious, but really they just wanted to appear in his company and bask in his reflected glow. But as they were laughing and chatting, the queen thrust her way through and taking the prince by the hand, she led him away to dance with her. This time she danced practically every dance with him. They laughed and joked together and talked about all sorts of things, serious and gay, but the queen did not like to ask him outright who he was; so that when he slipped away again without being seen just before the ball ended, she was no wiser than before.

In the morning, the prince was back at his job, and again the page came up to him, more shy and nervous than ever now because of the prince’s previous impatience towards him, because of the page’s own increasing suspicions about the prince’s higher birth, and also because the prince, even in his peasant’s clothes, was just so beautiful and regal. And the page said:

“Oh, Horse-skin, do come to the third ball tonight. It’s the last one and tonight the queen is to give the ring to the boy she thinks prettiest and admires most. I wish you had been there last night, the grand gentlemen were so jealous because the queen would scarcely look at them or talk to them; she had time only for a lovely and mysterious boy, who had been at the previous ball too, though nobody knows anything about him. People say the queen has quite lost her heart to him. I saw him too. He is awfully like you. He has a lovely smile and coral lips and the same lovely eyes as you. I only wish I were a princess and could marry him and –” And at this the page broke off, blushing fiercely.

But the prince only sighed wearily and sad “Oh, don’t talk to me of dancing. I’m too tired to dance. I can only go to bed at night.” And off he walked.

That evening the prince again changed as soon as he got back to the old woman’s cottage, but this time he put on his own suit, which suited him best of all. Again he entered the ballroom unannounced and as he threaded his way through the throng of guests, even the most jealous had to admit that he was the loveliest boy there, lovelier than any of the princes, dukes or other noblemen, and prettier even than the prettiest of the noble and haughty girls as well. The queen was quite captivated and would dance with no one else. Then, at the time appointed for the great decision, she gave him the ring to show that she had chosen him and wished him to be her husband and consort. She told several of her courtiers to see where he went, if he should try to slip away again, but even so the prince managed to distract their attention and get away back to the old woman’s cottage unobserved.

The next morning the queen told her courtiers to find out who the boy was to whom she had given her ring, where he lived and all about him; but no one could tell them anything. Nor could he be found. The queen ordered the whole of her country to be searched, but it was all in vain. Nobody appeared to have seen the mysterious boy since the night of the third ball, and nobody knew who he was. This made the queen so sad and dispirited that she felt quite ill. Her physicians gave her medicines and pills, which did her no good at all, and people began to fear that their queen was going to die. The queen herself did not care if she did die; to her life without the mysterious boy with whom she had fallen in love held nothing at all, and she just lay in bed feeling more and more sad and dejected.

The physicians sent for four nurses to help look after the queen, two for the day and two for the night. One day shortly afterwards, Horse-skin met one of the nurses carrying a bowl of broth, and asked him how the queen was.

“She is really very ill,” said the nurse, “because she loves this boy so much that she does not wish to live without him. This soup is for her, but it will do her no good. The only thing that will help her is for the boy to come back. It is very cruel of him to behave like this.”

Horse-skin had really been longing to make himself known to the queen, but had not known how to do it. Hearing what the nurse said he became desperate, and taking the queen’s ring from the secret pocket where he kept it, he dropped it into the bowl of broth while the nurse was looking the other way.

You can imagine how surprised the queen was to find her ring at the bottom of the bowl of soup. She asked the nurse how it had got there, but he could offer no explanation and swore that the only person he had met was the poor water-boy, Horse-skin. The queen then felt sure that Horse-skin must know the secret so she sent for him and, shortly afterwards, he was ushered into her room.

If the queen had not been so preoccupied with her own sorrow she would probably have taken a good look at the boy everyone called Horse-skin and all her questions would have been answered. But as it was, she scarcely glanced at him as she told him to tell her how the ring had got into his bowl of broth. He replied that he had dropped it into the bowl. The queen then asked him where he had got it from.

“If your majesty will allow me to retire for a few minutes, I will tell you who gave me the ring, the moment I get back.”

The queen agreed to this and Horse-skin hurried away to put on his own proper clothes. The queen did not have long to wait. Looking up as her page opened the door, the queen saw a boy step into her room. Not just any boy, but her boy, the mysterious lovely boy to whom she had given her ring at the third ball.

“Does your majesty know me now?” the prince asked.

“Of course, I do. You are the sweet and lovely boy to whom I gave the ring.”

“I am,” said the prince, “and I am also the one who dropped it into your bowl of broth, your humble servant, Horse-skin.”

The queen was thoroughly mystified, yet overjoyed to have found her sweetheart, and she insisted that the prince sit on her bed while he told her the story that explained the mystery. The prince wept a little, as he told her all that had happened to him, because it brought it back so vividly. The queen was furious and wanted to declare war on the prince’s father and punish him, but the prince persuaded her not to, insisting that he would far rather forget it all and begin life again with the queen.

The queen refused to let the prince go back to the old woman’s cottage, and instead installed him in a suite of beautifully furnished apartments that had once been her mother’s, while the preparations for the wedding were hurried on. She also instructed the palace secretary to began the arrangements for a full retinue of servants to wait on the prince, both in his quarters and in the palace and the kingdom at large, but after considering the matter, the prince surprised her by declaring that if the queen’s page could become his personal manservant, he would have need of no other help. The page (whose name was Desiderio) received the news of his new position with amazement and joy, and hastened to promise the prince that he would personally attend to the prince’s every need and desire. And in the end, everyone was delighted. The queen had at last found herself a husband and happiness, the prince was once again living the beautiful life for which he had been born and bred, and his faithful Desiderio for many, many years dedicated himself with great happiness and satisfaction to the comfort and happiness of his lovely prince.

A retelling of “The Princess In the Tower” from Portugese Fairy Tales by Maurice and Pamela Michael, Frederick Muller Limited, London, 1965