NCE upon a time there was a proud Princess. She lived in a castle high up on the hill, and looked down on everybody. She knew that no one could possibly come up to her, because across the road that led to her front door was a tremendously deep stream, so deep that it was quite unfordable; and in front of the stream was an enormous tree, so big that no one could get round it, and only exceptionally clever people could climb over it. And so the Princess was able to sit on the terrace with her nose in the air and look over the stream and tree down the steep white road which led to the town where the suitors lived.
Of course she had heaps and heaps of suitors, For one thing, the Princess had caused a proclamation to be fairly widely circulated to the effect that her hand should be given in marriage to the man who could gain entrance to the castle; moreover, to keep herself before the public, the Princess would sometimes slip out by the back door of the castle and drive down into the town, and parade the streets in her golden carriage. Then she would look out of her eyes in a way that made every man feel anxious for nothing so much as to make the Princess loving and obedient; and, when he looked into the Princess's eyes, every man felt pretty sure he could manage it—if he could only get to the castle.
The Princess had to encourage the suitors like this, because she had nothing in the world to do but sit and watch them come up the steep white road. This wasn't such a very lively occupation, even when suitors were plenteous; and the Princess grew more disdainful every day—disdainful of the suitors, and disdainful of her Maids—until at last the only person she wasn't disdainful of was her beautiful self. She thought herself extremely superior.
As for imagining the suitors had any claims to be treated with consideration, the mere idea made her stick her little nose up higher and higher. They seemed so ridiculous from the height at which she looked down on them; besides, it quite irritated her to see the important way in which they strutted up. The very clever ones brought ladders and ropes and climbing appliances, and one or two surmounted the tree and plunged into the roaring stream. This afforded amusement at least, for their antics when drowning were as lively as those of marionettes, and the Princess would give a languid smile and make wagers with her Maids as to how long it would be before the silly creatures sank.
This was cruel, but then she had so little excitement; for, though the suitors who failed were well whipped as they ran down the road, all men look much the same under the lash. In fact, the only suitor who did not skip and howl was the fat old mayor. He came every Tuesday, he was so very ambitious; and he was too fat to do anything but waddle along like a tired frog.
But at last even the sight of the mayor palled on her, and she shut her eyes tight every Tuesday afternoon, and kept them shut until her Maids told her he had come and gone.
She was sitting on the terrace one Tuesday, yawning away as usual and playing with her rings, when suddenly she heard a great scuttering and chattering among her maids. She was rather astonished at the mayor causing such commotion, and, turning her head listlessly, she beheld them all in a row craning their necks over the terrace wall. Their backs looked so shocked and so interested that she saw at once it could not be the mayor, so she looked too; and there, far away on the road below, was the shabbiest fellow coming along. The sunlight caught his hair and made it shine like flame; his jerkin was stained and old, and his cap was stuck on the back of his head in a devil-may-care fashion. It was plain he was very, very poor, his knapsack was lean and his face quite lantern-jawed; but for all that, he had the most determined manner and strode up the road at a pace like a coach and four.
And the nearer he came, the louder grew the whispering of the Maids-of-honour.
“Did you ever see such impudence?”
“Or such clothes?”
“Well, that's the impudence! Just look at his shoes! Why, his toes are sticking out!” and the Maids all said, “Oooh! Oooh!” and hid their eyes; but they soon peeped out again.
As for the Princess, she never took her eyes off him, for something in his gait and bearing made her heart stir in the queerest manner; and, though she was almost certain she was very annoyed at his rags and roughness, she could not be quite positively sure—especially when the sound of his whistle came up to her, sweet and clear like a thread of silver music; it made her heart stand still.