University of Virginia Library

XVII.—PRINCE UNEXPECTED.

There was a king and queen who had been married for
three years, but had no children, at which they were both
much distressed. Once upon a time the king found himself
obliged to make a visit of inspection round his
dominions; he took leave of his queen, set off and was not
at home for eight months. Towards the end of the ninth

month the king returned from his progress through his
country, and was already hard by his capital city, when, as
he journeyed over an uninhabited plain during the most
scorching heat of summer, he felt such excessive thirst that
he sent his servants round about to see if they could find
water anywhere and let him know of it at once. The
servants dispersed in various directions, sought in vain for a
whole hour, and returned without success to the king. The
thirst-tormented king proceeded to traverse the whole plain
far and wide himself, not believing that there was not a
spring somewhere or other; on he rode, and on a level spot,
on which there had not previously been any water, he espied
a well with a new wooden fence round it, full to the brim
with spring water, in the midst of which floated a silver cup
with a golden handle. The king sprang from his horse and
reached after the cup with his right hand; but the cup, just
as if it were alive and had eyes, darted quickly on one side
and floated again by itself. The king knelt down and began
to try to catch it, now with his right hand, now with his
left, but it moved and dodged away in such a manner that,
not being able to seize it with one hand, he tried to catch it
with both. But scarcely had he reached out with both
hands when the cup dived like a fish, and floated again on
the surface. `Hang it!' thought the king, `I can't help
myself with the cup, I'll manage without it.' He then bent
down to the water, which was as clear as crystal and as cold
as ice, and began in his thirst to drink. Meanwhile his long
beard, which reached down to his girdle, dipped into the
water. When he had quenched his thirst, he wanted to get
up again—something was holding his beard and wouldn't
let it go. He pulled once and again, but it was of no use;
he cried out therefore in anger, `Who's there? let go!' `It's
I, the subterranean king, immortal Bony, and I shall not
let go till you give me that which you left unknowingly at
home, and which you do not expect to find on your return.'
The king looked into the depth of the well, and there was a
huge head like a tub, with green eyes and a mouth from ear
to ear, which was holding the king by the beard with extended
claws like those of a crab, and was laughing
mischievously. The king thought that a thing of which he
had not known before starting, and which he did not expect
on his return, could not be of great value, so he said to the
apparition, `I give it.' The apparition burst with laughter
and vanished with a flash of fire, and with it vanished also
the well, the water, the wooden fence, and the cup; and the
king was again on a hillock by a little wood kneeling on dry
sand, and there was nothing more. The king got up, crossed
himself, sprang on his horse, hastened to his attendants, and
rode on.

In a week or maybe a fortnight the king arrived at his
capital; the people came out in crowds to meet him; he
went in procession to the great court of the palace and
entered the corridor. In the corridor stood the queen
awaiting him, and holding close to her bosom a cushion, on
which lay a child, beautiful as the moon, kicking in swad
dling clothes. The king recollected himself, sighed painfully,
and said within himself: `This is what I left without
knowing and found without expecting!' And bitterly,
bitterly did he weep. All marvelled, but nobody dared to
ask the cause. The king took his son, without saying a
word, in his arms, gazed long on his innocent face; carried
him into the palace himself, laid him in the cradle, and,
suppressing his sorrow, devoted himself to the government
of his realm, but was never again cheerful as formerly, since
he was perpetually tormented by the thought that some day
Bony would claim his son.

Meanwhile weeks, months, and years flowed on, and no
one came for his son. The prince, named `Unexpected,'

grew and developed, and eventually became a handsome
youth. The king also in course of time regained his usual
cheerfulness; and forgot what had taken place, but alas!
everybody did not forget so easily.

Once the prince, while hunting in a forest, became
separated from his suite and found himself in a savage
wilderness. Suddenly there appeared before him a hideous
old man with green eyes, who said: `How do you do,
Prince Unexpected? You have made me wait for you a
long time.' `Who are you?' `That you will find out hereafter,
but now, when you return to your father, greet him
from me, and tell him that I should be glad if he would
close accounts with me, for if he doesn't soon get out of
my debt of himself, he will repent it bitterly.' After saying
this the hideous old man disappeared, and the prince in
amazement turned his horse, rode home and told the king
his adventure. The king turned as pale as a sheet, and revealed
the frightful secret to his son. `Don't cry, father!'
replied the prince, `it isn't a great misfortune! I shall
manage to force Bony to renounce the right over me, which
he tricked you out of in so underhand a manner, and if in
the course of a year I do not return, it will be a token that
we shall see each other no more.' The prince prepared for
his journey, the king gave him a suit of steel armour, a
sword, and a horse, and the queen hung round his neck a
cross of pure gold. At leave-taking they embraced affectionately,
wept heartily, and the prince rode off.

On he rode one day, two days, three days, and at the end
of the fourth day at the setting of the sun he came to the
shore of the sea, and in the self-same bay espied twelve
dresses, white as snow, though in the water, as far as the eye
could reach, there was no living soul to be seen; only
twelve white geese were swimming at a distance from the
shore. Curious to know to whom they belonged, he took

one of the dresses, let his horse loose in a meadow, concealed
himself in a neighbouring thicket, and waited to see
what would come to pass. Thereupon the geese, after disporting
themselves on the sea, swam to the shore; eleven of
them went to the dresses, each threw herself on the ground
and became a beautiful damsel, dressed herself with speed,
and flew away into the plain. The twelfth goose, the last
and prettiest of all, did not venture to come out on the
shore, but only wistfully stretched out her neck, looking on
all sides. On seeing the prince she called out with a human
voice: `Prince Unexpected, give me my dress; I will be
grateful to you in return.' The prince hearkened to her,
placed the dress on the grass, and modestly turned away in
another direction. The goose came out on the grass,
changed herself into a damsel, dressed herself hastily, and
stood before the prince; she was young and more beautiful
than eye had seen or ear heard of. Blushing, she gave him
her white hand, and, casting her eyes down, said with a
pleasing voice: `I thank you, good prince, for hearkening
to me: I am the youngest daughter of immortal Bony; he
has twelve young daughters, and rules in the subterranean
realm. My father, prince, has long been expecting you and
is very angry; however, don't grieve, and don't be frightened,
but do as I tell you. As soon as you see King Bony, fall at
once on your knees, and, paying no regard to his outcry,
upbraiding, and threats, approach him boldly. What will
happen afterwards you will learn, but now we must part.'
On saying this the princess stamped on the ground with her
little foot; the ground sprang open at once, and they
descended into the subterranean realm, right into Bony's
palace, which shone all underground brighter than our sun.
The prince stepped boldly into the reception-room. Bony
was sitting on a golden throne with a glittering crown on his
head; his eyes gleamed like two saucers of green glass and
his hands were like the nippers of a crab. As soon as he
espied him at a distance, the prince fell on his knees, and
Bony yelled so horribly that the vaults of the subterranean
dominion quaked; but the prince boldly moved on his knees
towards the throne, and, when he was only a few paces from
it, the king smiled and said: `Thou hast marvellous luck in
succeeding in making me smile; remain in our subterranean
realm, but before thou becomest a true citizen thereof thou
art bound to execute three commands of mine; but because
it is late to-day, we will begin to-morrow; meanwhile go to
thy room.'

The prince slept comfortably in the room assigned to him,
and early on the morrow Bony summoned him and said:
`We will see, prince, what thou canst do. In the course of
the following night build me a palace of pure marble; let
the windows be of crystal, the roof of gold, an elegant
garden round about it, and in the garden seats and
fountains; if thou buildest it, thou wilt gain thyself my
love; if not, I shall command thy head to be cut off.'
The prince heard it, returned to his apartment, and was
sitting mournfully thinking of the death that threatened him,
when outside at the window a bee came buzzing and said:
`Let me in!' He opened the lattice, in flew the bee, and
the princess, Bony's youngest daughter, appeared before the
wondering prince. `What are you thus thinking about,
Prince Unexpected?' `Alas! I am thinking that your
father wishes to deprive me of life.' `Don't be afraid! lie down
to sleep, and when you get up to-morrow morning your
palace will be ready.'

So, too, it came to pass. At dawn the prince came out
of his room and espied a more beautiful palace than he had
ever seen, and Bony, when he saw it, wondered, and wouldn't
believe his own eyes. `Well! thou hast won this time, and
now thou hast my second command. I shall place my

twelve daughters before thee to-morrow; if thou dost not
guess which of them is the youngest, thou wilt place thy
head beneath the axe.' `I unable to recognise the youngest
princess!' said the prince in his room; `what difficulty can
there be in that?' `This,' answered the princess, flying
into the room in the shape of a bee, `that if I don't help
you, you won't recognise me, for we are all so alike that
even our father only distinguishes us by our dress.' `What
am I to do?' `What, indeed! That will be the youngest
over whose right eye you espy a ladycow; only look well.
Adieu!' On the morrow King Bony again summoned
Prince Unexpected. The princesses stood in a row side by
side, all dressed alike and with eyes cast down. The prince
looked and marvelled how alike all the princesses were; he
went past them once, twice—he did not find the appointed
token; the third time he saw a ladycow over the eyebrow of
one, and cried out: `This is the youngest princess!' `How
the deuce have you guessed it?' said Bony angrily. `There
must be some trickery here. I must deal with your lordship
differently. In three hours you will come here again,
and will show your cleverness in my presence. I shall light
a straw, and you will stitch a pair of boots before it goes out,
and if you don't do it you will perish.'

The prince returned desponding and found the bee
already in his apartment. `Why pensive again, prince?'
`How shouldn't I be pensive, when your father wants me
to stitch him a pair of boots, for what sort of cobbler am I?'
`What else will you do?' `What am I to do? I shan't
stitch the boots, and I'm not afraid of death—one can but
die once!' `No, prince, you shall not die! I will
endeavour to rescue you, and we will either escape together
or perish together! We must flee—there's nothing else to
be done.' Saying this, the princess spat on one of the
window-panes, and the spittle immediately froze. She then

went out of the room with the prince, locked the door after
her, and threw the key far away; then, taking each other
by the hands, they ascended rapidly, and in a moment
found themselves on the very spot whence they had descended
into the subterranean realm; there was the selfsame
sea, the self-same shore overgrown with rushes and
thornbushes, the self-same fresh meadow, and in the meadow
cantered the prince's well-fed horse, who, as soon as he
descried his rider, came galloping straight to him. The
prince didn't stop long to think, but sprang on his horse,
the princess seated herself behind him, and off they set as
swift as an arrow.

King Bony at the appointed hour did not wait for Prince
Unexpected, but sent to ask him why he did not appear.
Finding the door locked, the servants knocked at it vigorously,
and the spittle answered them from the middle of the
room in the prince's voice, `Anon!' The servants carried
this answer to the king; he waited, waited, no prince; he
therefore again sent the same servants, who heard the same
answer: `Anon!' and carried what they had heard to the
king. `What's this? Does he mean to make fun of me?'
shouted the king in wrath: `Go at once, break the door
open and conduct him to me!' The servants hurried off,
broke open the door, and rushed in. What, indeed? there
was nobody there, and the spittle on the pane of glass was
splitting with laughter at them. Bony all but burst with
rage, and ordered them all to start off in pursuit of the
prince, threatening them with death if they returned empty-handed.
They sprang on horseback and hastened away
after the prince and princess.

Meanwhile Prince Unexpected and the princess, Bony's
daughter, were hurrying away on their spirited horse, and
amidst their rapid flight heard `tramp, tramp,' behind them.
The prince sprang from the horse, put his ear to the ground

and said, `They are pursuing us.' `Then,' said the princess,
`we have no time to lose.' Instantly she transformed
herself into a river, changed the prince into a bridge, the
horse into a raven, and the grand highway beyond the
bridge divided into three roads. Swiftly on the fresh track
hastened the pursuers, came on to the bridge, and stood
stupefied; they saw the track up to the bridge, but beyond
it disappeared, and the highway divided into three roads.
There was nothing to be done but to return, and they came
with nought. Bony shouted with rage, and cried out: `A
bridge and a river! It was they. How was it that ye did not
guess it? Back, and don't return without them!' The
pursuers recommenced the pursuit.

`I hear "tramp, tramp!" ' whispered the princess, Bony's
daughter, affrightedly to Prince Unexpected, who sprang
from the saddle, put his ear to the ground, and replied:
`They are making haste, and are not far off.' That instant
the princess and prince, and with them also their horse,
became a gloomy forest, in which were roads, by-roads, and
footpaths without number, and on one of them it seemed
that two riders were hastening on a horse. Following the
fresh track, the pursuers came up to the forest, and when
they espied the fugitives in it, they hastened speedily after
them. On and on hurried the pursuers, seeing continually
before them a thick forest, a wide road and the fugitives on
it; now, now they thought to overtake them, when the
fugitives and the thick forest suddenly vanished, and they
found themselves at the self-same place whence they had
started in pursuit. They returned, therefore, again to
Bony empty-handed. `A horse, a horse! I'll go myself!
they won't escape out of my hands!' yelled Bony, foaming
at the mouth, and started in pursuit.

Again the princess said to Prince Unexpected: `Methinks
they are pursuing us, and this time it is Bony, my father,

himself, but the first church is the boundary of his dominion,
and he won't be able to pursue us further. Give me your
golden cross.' The prince took off his affectionate mother's
gift and gave it to the princess, and in a moment she was
transformed into a church, he into the priest, and the horse
into the bell; and that instant up came Bony. `Monk!'
Bony asked the priest, `hast thou not seen some travellers
on horseback?' `Only just now Prince Unexpected rode
this way with the princess, Bony's daughter. They came
into the church, performed their devotions, gave money for
a mass for your good health, and ordered me to present
their respects to you if you should ride this way.' Bony, too,
returned empty-handed. But Prince Unexpected rode on
with the princess, Bony's daughter, in no further fear of
pursuit.

They rode gently on, when they saw before them a
beautiful town, into which the prince felt an irresistible
longing to go. `Prince,' said the princess, `don't go; my
heart forebodes misfortune there.' `I'll only ride there for a
short time, and look round the town, and we'll then proceed
on our journey.' `It's easy enough to ride thither, but will it
be as easy to return? Nevertheless, as you absolutely
desire it, go, and I will remain here in the form of a white
stone till you return; be circumspect, my beloved; the
king, the queen, and the princess, their daughter, will come
out to meet you, and with them will be a beautiful little boy
—don't kiss him, for, if you do, you will forget me at once,
and will never set eyes on me more in the world—I shall
die of despair. I will wait for you here on the road for
three days, and if on the third day you don't return, remember
that I perish, and perish all through you.' The
prince took leave and rode to the town, and the princess
transformed herself into a white stone, and remained on the
road.

One day passed, a second passed, the third also passed,
and nothing was seen of the prince. Poor princess! He
had not obeyed her counsel; in the town, the king, the
queen, and the princess their daughter, had come out to
meet him, and with them walked a little boy, a curly-headed
chatterbox, with eyes as bright as stars. The child rushed
straight into the prince's arms, who was so captivated by the
beauty of the lad that he forgot everything, and kissed the
child affectionately. That moment his memory was darkened,
and he utterly forgot the princess, Bony's daughter.

The princess lay as a white stone by the wayside, one
day, two days, and when the third day passed and the prince
did not return from the town, she transformed herself into
a cornflower, and sprang in among the rye by the roadside.
`Here I shall stay by the roadside; maybe some passer-by
will pull me up or trample me into the ground,' said she,
and tears like dew-drops glittered on the azure petals. Just
then an old man came along the road, espied the cornflower
in the rye by the wayside, was captivated by its
beauty, extracted it carefully from the ground, carried it into
his dwelling, set it in a flower-pot, watered it, and began to
tend it attentively. But—O marvel!—ever since the time
that the cornflower was brought into his dwelling, all kind
of wonders began to happen in it. Scarcely was the old
man awake, when everything in the house was already set
in order, nowhere was the least atom of dust remaining. At
noon he came home—dinner was all ready, the table set; he
had but to sit down and eat as much as he wanted. The
old man wondered and wondered, till at last terror took
possession of him, and he betook himself for advice to an
old witch of his acquaintance in the neighbourhood. `Do
this,' the witch advised him: `get up before the first morning
dawn, before the cocks crow to announce daylight, and
notice diligently what begins to stir first in the house, and

that which does stir, cover with this napkin: what will
happen further, you will see.'

The old man didn't close his eyes the whole night, and as
soon as the first gleam appeared and things began to be
visible in the house, he saw how the cornflower suddenly
moved in the flower-pot, sprang out, and began to stir about
the room; when simultaneously everything began to put
itself in its place; the dust began to sweep itself clean away,
and the fire kindled itself in the stove. The old man
sprang cleverly out of his bed and placed the cloth on the
flower as it endeavoured to escape, when lo! the flower
became a beautiful damsel—the princess, Bony's daughter.
`What have you done?' cried the princess. `Why have
you brought life back again to me? My betrothed, Prince
Unexpected, has forgotten me, and, therefore, life has
become distasteful to me.' `Your betrothed, Prince
Unexpected, is going to be married to-day; the wedding
feast is ready, and the guests are beginning to assemble.'

The princess wept, but after awhile dried her tears, dressed
herself in frieze, and went into the town like a village girl.
She came to the royal kitchen, where there was great noise
and bustle. She went up to the clerk of the kitchen with
humble and attractive grace, and said in a sweet voice:
`Dear sir, do me one favour; allow me to make a wedding-cake
for Prince Unexpected.' Occupied with work, the
first impulse of the clerk of the kitchen was to give the girl
a rebuff, but when he looked at her, the words died on his
lips, and he answered kindly: `Ah, my beauty of beauties!
do what you will; I will hand the prince your cake myself.'
The cake was soon baked, and all the invited guests were
sitting at table. The clerk of the kitchen himself placed a
huge cake on a silver dish before the prince; but scarce had
the prince made a cut in the side of it, when lo! an unheard-of
marvel displayed itself in the presence of all. A gray

tom-pigeon and a white hen-pigeon came out of the cake;
the tom-pigeon walked along the table, and the hen-pigeon
walked after him, cooing:

Scarcely had Prince Unexpected heard this cooing of the
pigeon, when he regained his lost recollection, bounced from
the table, rushed to the door, and behind the door the
princess, Bony's daughter, took him by the hand; they went
together down the corridor, and before them stood a horse
saddled and bridled.

Why delay? Prince Unexpected and the princess,
Bony's daughter, sprang on the horse, started on the road,
and at last arrived happily in the realm of Prince Unexpected's
father. The king and queen received them with
joy and merriment, and didn't wait long before they prepared
them a magnificent wedding, the like of which eye
never saw and ear never heard of.

With the above story should be compared that of `The
Water King, and Vasilissa the Wise' (Ralston, p. 120). A
large number of tales that may also be compared with it are
mentioned by Mr. Ralston in pp. 132-133 of his Russian
Folk-tales. As to the interpretation of `Prince Unexpected,'
it is very tempting to look upon Kostchey's twelve daughters
as representing the twelve months. And, as the year
anciently began with spring, Kostchey's youngest daughter
would be the month which forms the transition from
winter to spring. The interruption of their progress by
Prince Unexpected's temporary forgetfulness may be explained
as the temporary cessation of warm weather and

return of a kind of secondary winter, which often occurs in
early spring. Prince Unexpected himself may, perhaps, be
considered as representing the sun, who has been held in
captivity by the winter and has escaped with the last month
of the year. Vasilissa the Wise is the eldest daughter of
the Water King, and would thus represent the first month
of the new year.