English
SouthwestWind,Esquire,wasasgoodashisword.
Afterthemomentousvisitaboverelated,heenteredtheTreasureValleynomore;and,whatwasworse,hehadsomuchinfluencewithhisrelations,theWestWindsingeneral,anduseditsoeffectually,thattheyalladoptedasimilarlineofconduct.
Sonorainfellinthevalleyfromoneyear’sendtoanother.
Thougheverythingremainedgreenandflourishingintheplainsbelow,theinheritanceoftheThreeBrotherswasadesert.
Whathadoncebeentherichestsoilinthekingdom,becameashiftingheapofredsand;andthebrothers,unablelongertocontendwiththeadverseskies,abandonedtheirvaluelesspatrimonyindespair,toseeksomemeansofgainingalivelihoodamongthecitiesandpeopleoftheplains.
Alltheirmoneywasgone,andtheyhadnothingleftbutsomecurious,old-fashionedpiecesofgoldplate,thelastremnantsoftheirill-gottenwealth.
“Supposeweturngoldsmiths?”saidSchwartztoHans,astheyenteredthelargecity.“Itisagoodknave’strade;wecanputagreatdealofcopperintothegold,withoutanyone’sfindingitout.”
Thethoughtwasagreedtobeaverygoodone;theyhiredafurnace,andturnedgoldsmiths.
Buttwoslightcircumstancesaffectedtheirtrade:thefirst,thatpeopledidnotapproveofthecopperedgold;thesecond,thatthetwoelderbrothers,whenevertheyhadsoldanything,usedtoleavelittleGlucktomindthefurnace,andgoanddrinkoutthemoneyintheale-housenextdoor.
Sotheymeltedalltheirgold,withoutmakingmoneyenoughtobuymore,andwereatlastreducedtoonelargedrinking-mug,whichanuncleofhishadgiventolittleGluck,andwhichhewasveryfondof,andwouldnothavepartedwithfortheworld;thoughheneverdrankanythingoutofitbutmilkandwater.Themugwasaveryoddmugtolookat.
Thehandlewasformedoftwowreathsofflowinggoldenhair,sofinelyspunthatitlookedmorelikesilkthanmetal,andthesewreathsdescendedinto,andmixedwith,abeardandwhiskersofthesameexquisiteworkmanship,whichsurroundedanddecoratedaveryfiercelittleface,ofthereddestgoldimaginable,rightinthefrontofthemug,withapairofeyesinitwhichseemedtocommanditswholecircumference.
Itwasimpossibletodrinkoutofthemugwithoutbeingsubjectedtoanintensegazeoutofthesideoftheseeyes;andSchwartzpositivelyaverred,thatonce,afteremptyingit,fullofRhenish,seventeentimes,hehadseenthemwink!
Whenitcametothemug’sturntobemadeintospoons,ithalfbrokepoorlittleGluck’sheart:butthebrothersonlylaughedathim,tossedthemugintothemelting-pot,andstaggeredouttotheale-house:leavinghim,asusual,topourthegoldintobars,whenitwasallready.
Whentheyweregone,Glucktookafarewelllookathisoldfriendinthemelting-pot.
Theflowinghairwasallgone;nothingremainedbuttherednose,andthesparklingeyes,whichlookedmoremaliciousthanever.
“Andnowonder,”thoughtGluck,“afterbeingtreatedinthatway.”
Hesauntereddisconsolatelytothewindow,andsathimselfdowntocatchthefresheveningair,andescapethehotbreathofthefurnace.
Nowthiswindowcommandedadirectviewoftherangeofmountains,which,asItoldbefore,overhungtheTreasureValley,andmoreespeciallyofthepeakfromwhichfelltheGoldenRiver.
Itwasjustatthecloseoftheday,andwhenGlucksatdownatthewindowhesawtherocksofthemountaintops,allcrimsonandpurplewiththesunset;andtherewerebrighttonguesoffierycloudburningandquiveringaboutthem;andtheriver,brighterthanall,fell,inawavingcolumnofpuregold,fromprecipicetoprecipice,withthedoublearchofabroadpurplerainbowstretchedacrossit,flushingandfadingalternatelyinthewreathsofspray.
“Ah!”saidGluckaloud,afterhehadlookedatitforawhile,“ifthatriverwerereallyallgold,whatanicethingitwouldbe.”
“Noitwouldn’t,Gluck,”saidaclear,metallicvoicecloseathisear.
“Blessme!what’sthat?”exclaimedGluck,jumpingup.Therewasnobodythere.
Helookedroundtheroom,andunderthetable,andagreatmanytimesbehindhim,buttherewascertainlynobodythere,andhesatdownagainatthewindow.
Thistimehedidn’tspeak,buthecouldn’thelpthinkingagainthatitwouldbeveryconvenientiftheriverwerereallyallgold.
“Notatall,myboy,”saidthesamevoice,louderthanbefore.
“Blessme!”saidGluckagain;“whatisthat?”
Helookedagainintoallthecornersandcupboards,andthenbeganturninground,andround,asfastashecouldinthemiddleoftheroom,thinkingtherewassomebodybehindhim,whenthesamevoicestruckagainonhisear.
Itwassingingnowverymerrily,“Lala-lira-la;”nowords,onlyasoftrunning,effervescentmelody,somethinglikethatofakettleontheboil.Glucklookedoutofthewindow.No,itwascertainlyinthehouse.Upstairs,anddownstairs.
No,itwascertainlyinthatveryroom,cominginquickertime,andclearernotes,everymoment.“Lala-lira-la.”
AllatonceitstruckGluckthatitsoundedloudernearthefurnace.
Herantotheopening,andlookedin:yes,hesawright;itseemedtobecoming,notonlyoutofthefurnace,butoutofthepot.
Heuncoveredit,andranbackinagreatfright,forthepotwascertainlysinging!
Hestoodinthefarthestcorneroftheroom,withhishandsup,andhismouthopen,foraminuteortwo,whenthesingingstopped,andthevoicebecameclearandpronunciative.
“Hollo!”saidthevoice.
Gluckmadenoanswer.
“Hollo!Gluck,myboy,”saidthepotagain.
Glucksummonedallhisenergies,walkedstraightuptothecrucible,drewitoutofthefurnace,andlookedin.
Thegoldwasallmelted,anditssurfaceassmoothandpolishedasariver;butinsteadofreflectinglittleGluck’shead,ashelookedin,hesawmeetinghisglancefrombeneaththegoldtherednoseandsharpeyesofhisoldfriendofthemug,athousandtimesredderandsharperthaneverhehadseentheminhislife.
“Come,Gluck,myboy,”saidthevoiceoutofthepotagain,“I’mallright;pourmeout.”
ButGluckwastoomuchastonishedtodoanythingofthekind.
“Pourmeout,Isay,”saidthevoicerathergruffly.
StillGluckcouldn’tmove.
“Willyoupourmeout?”saidthevoicepassionately.“I’mtoohot.”
Byaviolenteffort,Gluckrecoveredtheuseofhislimbs,tookholdofthecrucible,andslopeditsoastopouroutthegold.
Butinsteadofaliquidstream,therecameout,first,apairofprettylittleyellowlegs,thensomecoattails,thenapairofarmsstuckakimbo,and,finally,thewell-knownheadofhisfriendthemug;allwhicharticles,unitingastheyrolledout,stoodupenergeticallyonthefloor,intheshapeofalittlegoldendwarf,aboutafootandahalfhigh.
“That’sright!”saidthedwarf,stretchingoutfirsthislegs,andthenhisarms,andthenshakinghisheadupanddown,andasfarroundasitwouldgo,forfiveminuteswithoutstopping;apparentlywiththeviewofascertainingifhewerequitecorrectlyputtogether,whileGluckstoodcontemplatinghiminspeechlessamazement.
Hewasdressedinastasheddoubletofspungold,sofineinitstexture,thattheprismaticcoloursgleamedoverit,asifonasurfaceofmother-of-pearl;and,overthisbrilliantdoublet,hishairandbeardfellfullhalfwaytotheground,inwavingcurls,soexquisitelydelicatethatGluckcouldhardlytellwheretheyended;theyseemedtomeltintoair.
Thefeaturesoftheface,however,werebynomeansfinishedwiththesamedelicacy;theywererathercoarse,slightlyincliningtocopperyincomplexion,andindicative,inexpression,ofaverypertinaciousandintractabledispositionintheirsmallproprietor.
Whenthedwarfhadfinishedhisself-examination,heturnedhissmalleyesfullonGluck,andstaredathimdeliberatelyforaminuteortwo.
“No,itwouldn’t,Gluck,myboy,”saidthelittleman.
Thiswascertainlyratheranabruptandunconnectedmodeofcommencingconversation.
ItmightindeedbesupposedtorefertothecourseofGluck’sthoughts,whichhadfirstproducedthedwarf’sobservationsoutofthepot;butwhateveritreferredto,Gluckhadnoinclinationtodisputethedictum.
“Wouldn’tit,sir?”saidGluck,verymildlyandsubmissivelyindeed.
“No,”saidthedwarf,conclusively.“No,itwouldn’t.”
Andwiththat,thedwarfpulledhiscaphardoverhisbrows,andtooktwoturns,ofthreefeetlong,upanddowntheroom,liftinghislegsupveryhigh,andsettingthemdownveryhard.
ThispausegavetimeforGlucktocollecthisthoughtsalittle,and,seeingnogreatreasontoviewhisdiminutivevisitorwithdread,andfeelinghiscuriosityovercomehisamazement,heventuredonaquestionofpeculiardelicacy.
“Pray,sir,”saidGluck,ratherhesitatingly,“wereyoumymug?”
Onwhichthelittlemanturnedsharpround,walkedstraightuptoGluck,anddrewhimselfuptohisfullheight.
“I,”saidthelittleman,“amtheKingoftheGoldenRiver.”
Whereuponheturnedaboutagain,andtooktwomoreturns,somesixfeetlong,inordertoallowtimefortheconsternationwhichthisannouncementproducedinhisauditortoevaporate.
Afterwhich,heagainwalkeduptoGluckandstoodstill,asifexpectingsomecommentonhiscommunication.
Gluckdeterminedtosaysomethingatallevents.“IhopeyourMajestyisverywell,”saidGluck.
“Listen!”saidthelittleman,deigningnoreplytothispoliteinquiry.
“IamtheKingofwhatyoumortalscalltheGoldenRiver.
Theshapeyousawmeinwasowingtothemaliceofastrongerking,fromwhoseenchantmentsyouhavethisinstantfreedme.
WhatIhaveseenofyou,andyourconducttoyourwickedbrothers,rendersmewillingtoserveyou;therefore,attendtowhatItellyou.
WhoevershallclimbtothetopofthatmountainfromwhichyouseetheGoldenRiverissue,andshallcastintothestreamatitssourcethreedropsofholywater,forhim,andforhimonly,therivershallturntogold.
Butnoonefailinginhisfirst,cansucceedinasecondattempt;andifanyoneshallcastunholywaterintotheriver,itwilloverwhelmhim,andhewillbecomeablackstone.”
Sosaying,theKingoftheGoldenRiverturnedawayanddeliberatelywalkedintothecentreofthehottestflameofthefurnace.
Hisfigurebecamered,white,transparent,dazzling—ablazeofintenselight—rose,trembled,anddisappeared.
TheKingoftheGoldenRiverhadevaporated.
“Oh!”criedpoorGluck,runningtolookupthechimneyafterhim;“ohdear,dear,dearme!Mymug!mymug!mymug!”
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