THE WOOING OF THE MAZE

Once upon a time there lived a beautiful Princess named Rosemary who had all she wanted in the world but freedom. She had riches, and power, and glory without end; but above and beyond all these things, her beauty was like the sound of a trumpet.

If she lifted the veil from her face, or looked out from her window at morning as she combed her bright hair, the whole plain at her feet became like an army of banners, and the hillsides dark with the galloping of her suitors.

Rejected potentates went clamouring to the four winds of heaven, of her charm and of her cruelty; and the saying went that she had paved the floor of her palace with the hearts which she had broken.

But she was weary, was weary of saying “No” to wooers she did not love; and often when alone she would cry that her riches and her power and her glory might vanish away from her, and her beauty too, save so much of it as would win her the heart of the one man she loved, and leave her to be tended by his hands, as was her sweet namesake rosemary.

One day at noon, when it was the middle of summer, she was lying on a couch in the palace watching how the flies’ wings threw a network on the air as they made love to each other and played. It seemed to her so like the net that the swarm of her suitors threw round her day by day, that she caught one of the flies, and to make it more like herself, sprinkled it with gold dust so that it shone; then she let it go. But to her surprise all the other flies avoided it, and the gilded one went about solitary and alone.

“Oh! why then,” she cried, “am I not left free like yonder fly sprinkled with gold?”

Just then under the window a young gardener at his work among the flowers began singing; and this is what he sang:

The Princess waited till the words of the song were ended; then a smile broke over her face; she took up her guitar, and with musically skilled fingers played over the air as it had been sung. One by one the clear notes sprang through the open window and fell upon the ears of the listener on the green lawn below. Also her voice took up the air and sang:

That same day the Princess, sitting upon her throne and having crown and sceptre in her hands, caused the gardener to be called into her presence. The courtiers thought it was very strange that the Princess should have a thing of such importance to make known to a gardener that it was necessary for her to receive him with crown and throne and sceptre, as if it were an affair of state.

To the gardener, when he stood before her, she said, “Gardener, it is my wish that there should be fashioned for me a very great maze, so intricate and deceitful that no man who has not the secret of it shall be able to penetrate therein. Inmost is to be a little tower and fountains, and borders of sweet-smelling flowers and herbs. But the man who fashions this maze and has its secret must remain in it for ever lest he should betray his knowledge to others. So it is my will that you should devise such a maze for my delight, and be yourself the prisoner of your own craft when it is accomplished.”

The gardener lifted his head where he knelt, and saw the Princess sitting with eyes fast shut and hard-bitten lips, and hands down loose on either side of her, from which had fallen the crown and sceptre they had held. Then he answered her, “Princess, by all the might of my craft I will be, and it shall be so as you wish.”

Now the Princess gave it out to the world that, being so wooed, she was minded to put all men who required her hand to a great test, that so he who deserved her most might win her. Therefore at such and such a time she made it to be known that she would withdraw herself from all men’s eyes to the centre of a great maze strongly knit round by magic, and that whoever desired her beauty and could penetrate through all the deceits and dangers of that maze should possess herself and her lands and her power, and live in glory of his achievement.

Day by day, out of her palace window, she watched the great maze as it grew. Wondrously it wound like a huge serpent, gathering into its fold many miles of country—wood and hill and valley, and great pits and caverns. And far within rose a small round tower about which stood fountains like silver willows blown by the wind; but the door no man could see, for mighty hedges and walls circled all ways about, cutting off what was below the eye, so that the inner garden lay hidden like a skylark’s nest in the corn.

One day when the Princess asked, “How strong is this maze to be?” the gardener answered, “As strong as love.” And when she asked, “How hard will its way be to find?” he answered, “As hard as is the foolishness of the kings and princes who shall seek thee therein.” Then she laughed and was comforted in her heart when the day approached on which all the world was to be parted from her.

On that day a hundred suitors had gathered to the Court, eager to prove their prowess and win the most beautiful woman in all the world for a bride. At night the palace was ablaze from floor to roof, for there a great feast was held, at which sat Princess Rosemary, magnificent in her beauty and the splendour of her robes and crown. And all the kings and princes and lords bent round her with love and worship.

When the clocks struck midnight she rose, and all her jewels shone in the fashion of a star, so thickly clustered the eye might not discern one from other; but from heel to crown they clothed her as in a sheet of fire. She passed down the midst of the hall, bowing both ways to the assembly in gracious farewell, and her train as it went from floor to floor was as a great retinue following her when she herself had passed forth.

She went from terrace to terrace of garden under great trees where torches and trombones hung, blown by the wind, till she came to the entrance of the maze. Then she drew out of her breast a small chart, and gazing thereon went as though fate-led out of sight and sound. And all the crowd standing without watched the mysterious jewelled train of her robe passing in after she was gone, as though itself knew the way it had to go and the windings that led into the very heart of the maze. A whispered tale went from mouth to mouth that he who had devised and fashioned the maze had disappeared—was dead, lest the secret should be betrayed. Some said “Poison”; some said nothing, but shook their heads darkly and seemed wise.

At the first dawn of day the hundred kings, princes, and knights went forth to the wooing of the maze, for there were many paths, and each one went his own way.

For many days the doors remained sealed and silent as a tomb, and the crowds that gathered daily to watch began dwindling away, and went back to resume their neglected trades. At last the countries whose kings did not return sent ambassadors with messages that became more and more urgent in demanding their presence. They spoke of the balance of thrones, and the encroachments of neighbouring powers, and the deaths of relatives. These ambassadors went down to the various entrances at which their masters had been seen to go in, and thence shot arrows at a venture with the urgent messages attached to them. But yet none came to answer.

Then the ambassadors were summoned away, for new kings had seized on the vacant thrones, and the return of their predecessors became no longer expedient. People almost forgot at last to trouble their heads, save when fresh suitors came desirous of joining in the great wooing of the maze, the more by reason of its apparent dangers. Then indeed for a time gossips would wait and talk, but afterwards they went away.

Many years went by, and at last there came forth a knight with grizzled hair and bowed head. He walked in loops and circles, and his eyes slid from right to left over the ground at his feet. He seemed crazed, and stuttered when he spoke. They asked him how he had fared. He showed them many badges of other knights fastened about his shield and helmet. “I overthrew these,” he said, “till I met one who said, ‘I am Old Age: turn back!’”

They watched after him with his middle-aged stoop, till he had stumbled his way into his own country. Some remembered him as a gallant young knight fifteen years ago.

Yet the story went that the wondrous beauty of the Princess did not fade; and the people became proud of a legend that spread so great a distinction for their land, and would point to the maze and the far-off fountains, and say, “There waits our beautiful Princess till one come worthy to woo her.”

Twenty years had gone by when one day a goodly young Prince, with a smiling countenance, and two long lances slung over his back, made his appearance at the palace and demanded admittance to the maze. Half the population streamed out to meet him, for it was many years since the last wooer had come and vanished never to return. The country remembered its importance, and gave him a great welcome. “Look what long lances he has!” shouted the crowd. And then the doors of the maze closed on him, and they went back to their work.

When the Prince had made some way into the maze, he fastened his horse to a tree, took down his lances and—chopped off their points. Lo, and behold! he had turned them into stilts, great high stilts, so that by mounting them he could see far away over the windings of the maze into the very heart of it.

Far off he could see the silver glint of fountains like grey willows blown slantwise in the wind. That way with a pleasant tune in his heart he straddled merrily along. If he found himself in a blind alley, or being carried back by the windings of the road, he stood on one stilt and went “leg over” with the other; thus his goings prospered.

Here and there, he came upon dead men lying in their armour; some of them were quite old, others had long lances by their sides; they must have been hard of understanding and foolish. He passed them all by.

For the whole long day he travelled, till towards evening he came upon a little wood, and saw through the tree-boles the grey stones of the little tower, and felt on his face the spray of the fountains carried by the wind. Also he heard the sound of pleasant voices, and the stroke of a spade in the earth.

Free of the wood the path led straight on, till at the end of it, over a high hedge, lay a dainty bright garden. A man and a woman were bending together over a border of flowers. Their faces were close together, full of smiles as their hands gathered sprays of rosemary; their hair was wet with the drift of the fountains.

Both were in the early middle-age of life, the woman tall and broad-bosomed, her hair like a plaited crown of gold.

The man, as her face brushed his, laughed and began singing:

The Prince came and looked over the hedge; at the end of the song the gardener and his wife had raised themselves; the woman had her face resting on the man’s shoulder, and her arms about his waist. As she stood, her eyes came straight upon the intruder, who hung a laughing head and shoulders over the garden hedge. Her mouth and eyes went wide open, but breath was wanting for speech. She pinched her husband to make him look round.

The Prince smiling, addressed them with the utmost courtesy, “Good Sir and Madam, can you tell me whether the Princess is at home?” As he spoke he lifted a stilt and planted it down on the flower-bed inside. One more stride and he was in. There was a sudden clapping of hands. “He’s a humorist!” cried the gardener’s wife.

“Please,” said he, as he climbed down from his height and stood once more on his own feet, “please, I am come for the Princess; and I hope she is not tired of waiting, and is as beautiful, and as young, as report has led me to believe.”

The gardener’s wife laughed and ran into the tower. Presently from roof to floor it was filled with a great rustling sound, and all the windows shone with the colour of fire. Then out of the door came a lovely girl blazing with jewels and drawing behind her a wonderful great train. “Here is your Princess,” said her mother. How beautiful she was, how radiant, how young! She came softly towards the Prince, laughing and holding out her hand. He took it, and as he did so the whole of the maze disappeared, and only the little tower with its fountains remained. So the young couple went back to the palace and were married, but the other couple stayed at home; and there they lived happily ever after.