Some
years rolled by and still Bar Shalmon thought of his native land. One day the
princess found him weeping quietly.
"Why
art thou sad, husband mine?" she asked. "Dost thou no longer love me,
and am I not beautiful now?"
"No,
it is not that," he said, but for a long time he refused to say more. At
last he confessed that he had an intense longing to see his home again.
"But
thou art bound to me by an oath," said the princess.
"I
know," replied Bar Shalmon, "and I shall not break it. Permit me to
visit my home for a brief while, and I will return and prove myself more
devoted to thee than ever."
On these
conditions, the princess agreed that he should take leave for a whole year. A
big, black demon flew swiftly with him to his native city.
No sooner
had Bar Shalmon placed his feet on the ground than he determined not to return
to the land of Ergetz.
"Tell
thy royal mistress," he said to the demon, "that I shall never return
to her."
He tore
his clothes to make himself look poor, but his wife was overjoyed to see him.
She had mourned him as dead. He did not tell of his adventures, but merely said
he had been ship-wrecked and had worked his way back as a poor sailor. He was
delighted to be among human beings again, to hear his own language and to see
solid buildings that did not appear and disappear just when they pleased, and
as the days passed he began to think his adventures in fairyland were but a
dream.
Meanwhile,
the princess waited patiently until the year was ended.
Then she
sent the big, black demon to bring Bar Shalmon back.
Bar
Shalmon met the messenger one night when walking alone in his garden.
"I
have come to take thee back," said the demon.
Bar
Shalmon was startled. He had forgotten that the year was up. He felt that he
was lost, but as the demon did not seize him by force, he saw that there was a
possibility of escape.
"Return
and tell thy mistress I refuse," he said.
"I
will take thee by force," said the demon. "Thou canst not," Bar
Shalmon said, "for I am the son-in-law of the king."
The demon
was helpless and returned to Ergetz alone.
King
Ashmedai was very angry, but the princess counselled patience.
"I
will devise means to bring my husband back," she said. "I will send
other messengers."
Thus it
was that Bar Shalmon found a troupe of beautiful fairies in the garden the next
evening.
They
tried their utmost to induce him to return with them, but he would not listen.
Every day different messengers came--big, ugly demons who threatened, pretty
fairies who tried to coax him, and troublesome sprites and goblins who only
annoyed him. Bar Shalmon could not move without encountering messengers from
the princess in all manner of queer places. Nobody else could see them, and
often he was heard talking to invisible people. His friends began to regard him
as strange in his behavior.
King
Ashmedai grew angrier every day, and he threatened to go for Bar Shalmon
himself.
"Nay,
I will go," said the princess; "it will be impossible for my husband
to resist me."
She
selected a large number of attendants, and the swift flight of the princess and
her retinue through the air caused a violent storm to rage over the lands they
crossed. Like a thick black cloud they swooped down on the land where Bar
Shalmon dwelt, and their weird cries seemed like the wild shrieking of a mighty
hurricane. Down they swept in a tremendous storm such as the city had never
known. Then, as quickly as it came, the storm ceased, and the people who had
fled into their houses, ventured forth again.
The
little son of Bar Shalmon went out into the garden, but quickly rushed back
into the house.
"Father,
come forth and see," he cried. "The garden is full of strange creatures
brought by the storm. All manner of creeping, crawling things have invaded the
garden--lizards, toads, and myriads of insects. The trees, the shrubs, the
paths are covered, and some shine in the twilight like tiny lanterns."
Bar
Shalmon went out into the garden, but he did not see toads and lizards. What he
beheld was a vast array of demons and goblins and sprites, and in a rose-bush
the princess, his wife, shining like a star, surrounded by her attendant
fairies. She stretched forth her arms to him.
"Husband
mine," she pleaded, "I have come to implore thee to return to the
land of Ergetz with me. Sadly have I missed thee; long have I waited for thy
coming, and difficult has it been to appease my father's anger. Come, husband
mine, return with me; a great welcome awaits thee."
"I
will not return," said Bar Shalmon.
"Kill
him, kill him," shrieked the demons, and they surrounded him,
gesticulating fiercely. "Nay, harm him not," commanded the princess.
"Think
well, Bar Shalmon, ere you answer again. The sun has set and night is upon us.
Think well, until sunrise. Come to me, return, and all shall be well. Refuse,
and thou shalt be dealt with as thou hast merited. Think well before the
sunrise."
"And
what will happen at sunrise, if I refuse?" asked Bar Shalmon.
"Thou
shalt see," returned the princess. "Bethink thee well, and remember,
I await thee here until the sunrise."
"I
have answered; I defy thee," said Bar Shalmon, and he went indoors.
Night
passed with strange, mournful music in the garden, and the sun rose in its
glory and spread its golden beams over the city. And with the coming of the
light, more strange sounds woke the people of the city. A wondrous sight met
their gaze in the market place. It was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of
the queerest creatures they had ever seen, goblins and brownies, demons and
fairies. Dainty little elves ran about the square to the delight of the
children, and quaint sprites clambered up the lampposts and squatted on the
gables of the council house. On the steps of that building was a glittering
array of fairies and attendant genii, and in their midst stood the princess, a
dazzling vision, radiant as the dawn.
The mayor
of the city knew not what to do. He put on his chain of office and made a long
speech of welcome to the princess.
"Thank
you for your cordial welcome," said the princess, in reply, "and you
the mayor,. and ye the good people of this city of mortals, hearken unto me. I
am the princess of the Fairyland of Ergetz where my father, Ashmedai, rules as
king. There is one among ye who is my husband."
"Who
is he?" the crowd asked in astonishment.
"Bar
Shalmon is his name," replied the princess, "and to him am I bound by
vows that may not be broken."
"’Tis
false," cried Bar Shalmon from the crowd.
"’Tis
true. Behold our son," answered the princess, and there stepped forward a
dainty elfin boy whose face was the image of Bar Shalmon.
"I
ask of you mortals of the city," the princess continued, "but one thing,
justice--that same justice which we in the land of Ergetz did give unto Bar
Shalmon when, after breaking his oath unto his father, he set sail for a
foreign land and was delivered into our hands. We spared his life; we granted
his petition for a new trial. I but ask that ye should grant me the same
petition. Hear me in your Court of Justice."
"Thy
request is but reasonable, princess," said the mayor. "It shall not
be said that strangers here are refused justice. Bar Shalmon, follow me."
He led
the way into the Chamber of Justice, and the magistrates of the city heard all
that the princess and her witnesses, among whom was the rabbi, and also all
that Bar Shalmon, had to say.
"’Tis
plain," said the mayor, delivering judgment, "that her royal
highness, the princess of the Fairyland of Ergetz, has spoken that which is
true. But Bar Shalmon has in this city wife and child to whom he is bound by
ties that may not be broken. Bar Shalmon must divorce the princess and return
unto her the dowry received by him on their marriage."
"If
such be your law, I am content," said the princess.
"What
sayest thou, Bar Shalmon?" asked the mayor.
"Oh!
I'm content," he answered gruffly. "I agree to anything that will rid
me of the demon princess."
The
princess flushed crimson with shame and rage at these cruel words.
"These
words I have not deserved," she exclaimed, proudly. "I have loved
thee, and have been faithful unto thee, Bar Shalmon. I accept the decree of
your laws and shall return to the land of Ergetz a widow. I ask not for your
pity. I ask but for that which is my right, one last kiss."
"Very
well," said Bar Shalmon, still more gruffly, "anything to have done
with thee."
The
princess stepped proudly forward to him and kissed him on the lips.
Bar
Shalmon turned deadly pale and would have fallen had not his friends caught
him.
"Take
thy punishment for all thy sins," cried the princess, haughtily, "for
thy broken vows and thy false promises--thy perjury to thy God, to thy father,
to my father and to me."
As she
spoke Bar Shalmon fell dead at her feet. At a sign from the princess, her
retinue of fairies and demons flew out of the building and up into the air with
their royal mistress in their midst and vanished.
-------------------------
From: JEWISH FAIRY
TALES AND LEGENDS
ISBN: 978-1-907256-14-1
A percentage of the
profits will be donated to the CHRISTCHURCH EARTHQUAKE APPEAL.
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