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French fairy tale: Green Serpent
by
‘O wicked one!’ cried he; ‘is this the return for all my love for you?’
Now Magotine, knowing that Laideronnette and the Green Serpent were in trouble, came to add to their sorrow and taunt them. She took away, with one wave of her wand, all the lovely castles and fountains and gardens. And Laideronnette, seeing all that she had done, was very troubled. So, during the night, Laideronnette deplored her sad fate. Then, high up near the stars, she saw coming towards her the Green Serpent.
‘I always make you afraid,’ he cried; ‘but you are infinitely dear to me.’
‘Is it you, Serpent, dear lover; is it you?’ cried Laideronnette. ‘Can you forgive me for my fatal curiosity?’
‘Ah! how the sorrow of absence troubles this loving heart!’ replied the Serpent, with never a word of reproach to Laideronnette for her broken promise.
Magotine, now, was one of those fairies who never slept at all: the wish to do harm and never to miss the chance kept her awake; and she did not fail to hear the conversation between the King Serpent and his spouse; and she came down upon them in a fury.
‘Now then, Green Serpent,’ said she, ‘I order you for your punishment to go right to the good Proserpine, and give her my compliments.’
The poor Green Serpent went at once with great sighs, leaving the Queen in sorrow. And Laideronnette cried out:
‘What crime have we committed now, you wicked Magotine? I am certain that the poor King, whom you have sent to the bottomless pit of hell, was as innocent as I myself am; but let me die: it is the least you can do.’
‘You would be too happy,’ said Magotine, ‘were I to listen and grant you your wish. I will send you to the bottom of the sea.’ So saying, she took the poor Princess to the top of the highest mountain and tied a mill-stone about her neck, telling her that she was to go down and bring enough Water of Discretion to fill up her great big glass. The Princess said that it was absolutely impossible to carry all that water.
‘If you do not,’ said Magotine, ‘you may rest assured that your Green Serpent will suffer more.’
This threat caused the Queen to think of her utter feebleness. She began to walk, but, alas! it was useless. Oh! if the Fairy Protectress would only help her! Loudly she called, and lo! there stood the good fairy by her side.
‘See,’ said she, ‘to what a pass your fatal curiosity has brought you!’ So saying, she took her to the top of the mountain; she gave her a little carriage drawn by two white mice and told them to descend the mountain. Then she gave the little mice a vessel to fill up with the Water of Discretion for Magotine, and produced a little pair of iron shoes for Laideronnette to put on. She counselled her not to remain on the mountain and not to stay by the fountain, but to go into a little wood and to remain there three years, for then Magotine would think that she was getting the water or that she had perished in the awful perils of the voyage.
Laideronnette kissed and embraced the good Fairy Protectress, and thanked her a thousand times for her great favours. ‘But, madam,’ said Laideronnette, ‘all the joys that you have given me will not lessen the sorrow of not having my Green Serpent.’
‘He will come to you after you have been three years in the wood in the mountain,’ said the fairy; ‘and on your return you can give the water to Magotine.’
Laideronnette promised the fairy not to forget anything she had told her. So, when she got into her carriage, the mice took her to get the water, and afterwards they went to the wood that the fairy had told them about. There never was a more lovely place. Fruit hung on all the branches; and there were long avenues where the sun could not pierce; thousands of little fountains splashed, but the most wonderful thing of all was, that all the animals could speak.