Read Online Latin American Folktales by John Bierhorst - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Bierhorst
Tags: Fiction
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Work.”
PART ONE
4. In the City of Benjamin
The king of a certain city admired women for the stories they told. He ordered his vassals to collect all the loveliest women in the outlying districts and bring them in to be his wives. That way he would be able to hear good stories constantly.
None of the wives lasted more than three nights. They would run out of stories, and the king would toss them into a keep. Soon he had hundreds of women locked up like nuns in a cloister.
In the same city there were three sisters who had no marriage prospects. They were poor as could be. But they thought, “We’ll go to the palace, and if we can just get an audience with the king, perhaps he’ll marry us.” The first of the three went off to try her luck and met with the same fate as the king’s other women. It wasn’t long until the second sister joined her.
Before the youngest set out she gave the matter some thought and decided to become the king’s permanent wife by telling him a story that would have no end. The king married her without a moment’s hesitation, and on their wedding night she began to recite. When morning came the story was not finished. Tired after hours of storytelling, she said to the king, “Allow me to rest, Sacred Crown. Tonight I’ll continue.” She had broken off at the most interesting part.
And that’s how it went for an entire week, on and on with the story that never ended. After a while the king said, “This is my true wife. Such stories!” It was a marriage that lasted, the king always wanting to hear more. He never lost interest.
Tale followed tale but the story was never complete. Meanwhile the young wife was about to have a child, and one day she announced, finally, that the stories would come to an end.
For some time before this, since after all she was the queen, she had been performing her duties, keeping the palace in order, looking into every nook and cranny. Once, while making her rounds, she had come upon an enormous vault in the cellar beneath the palace. Inside it were thousands upon thousands of women. She was puzzled, because the word in town and throughout the country was that the king always beheaded his wives after the first three nights. She wondered what to make of her discovery but refrained from speaking openly.
Instead, as she went on with her nightly telling, she mentioned to the king that she didn’t know, really, whether it would be right to finish. The story’s end, she warned him, might be too shocking for him, because she knew what a tender-hearted man he was. She could tell, she said, that he wished no harm to anyone and that it was for this that the people of his country loved him. “Sacred Crown, I can’t bring myself to let you hear how it all turns out. It would be too upsetting for you.”
With his love for stories, the king’s interest was now keener than ever. He ordered her to tell the ending. “I will,” she said, “if you grant me one favor.”
“What is that, my queen?”
“All those poor women you have in the vault, let them go.”
The king was terrified. “What? If I turned those women loose, there would be an uprising. The people would drag me off the throne.”
“Then the story is not going to end.”
The king could barely contain his curiosity. “My dear, let me think about it.” The days passed, and still no answer. At last the queen said, “I’d better tell you the ending, because I’ll soon be going into labor. What if I should die in childbirth?”
“Oh no, my dear queen! Can’t you put it off a few more days?”
In the meantime the queen was consulting with the women in the vault. After dark she was releasing them quietly, one by one, without causing a stir. The women were returning to their homes with made-up excuses. They’d been away traveling, they said.
When all were free, the queen declared she could no longer postpone the end of her story. She brought the tale quickly to a close, the child was born
PART ONE
4. In the City of Benjamin
The king of a certain city admired women for the stories they told. He ordered his vassals to collect all the loveliest women in the outlying districts and bring them in to be his wives. That way he would be able to hear good stories constantly.
None of the wives lasted more than three nights. They would run out of stories, and the king would toss them into a keep. Soon he had hundreds of women locked up like nuns in a cloister.
In the same city there were three sisters who had no marriage prospects. They were poor as could be. But they thought, “We’ll go to the palace, and if we can just get an audience with the king, perhaps he’ll marry us.” The first of the three went off to try her luck and met with the same fate as the king’s other women. It wasn’t long until the second sister joined her.
Before the youngest set out she gave the matter some thought and decided to become the king’s permanent wife by telling him a story that would have no end. The king married her without a moment’s hesitation, and on their wedding night she began to recite. When morning came the story was not finished. Tired after hours of storytelling, she said to the king, “Allow me to rest, Sacred Crown. Tonight I’ll continue.” She had broken off at the most interesting part.
And that’s how it went for an entire week, on and on with the story that never ended. After a while the king said, “This is my true wife. Such stories!” It was a marriage that lasted, the king always wanting to hear more. He never lost interest.
Tale followed tale but the story was never complete. Meanwhile the young wife was about to have a child, and one day she announced, finally, that the stories would come to an end.
For some time before this, since after all she was the queen, she had been performing her duties, keeping the palace in order, looking into every nook and cranny. Once, while making her rounds, she had come upon an enormous vault in the cellar beneath the palace. Inside it were thousands upon thousands of women. She was puzzled, because the word in town and throughout the country was that the king always beheaded his wives after the first three nights. She wondered what to make of her discovery but refrained from speaking openly.
Instead, as she went on with her nightly telling, she mentioned to the king that she didn’t know, really, whether it would be right to finish. The story’s end, she warned him, might be too shocking for him, because she knew what a tender-hearted man he was. She could tell, she said, that he wished no harm to anyone and that it was for this that the people of his country loved him. “Sacred Crown, I can’t bring myself to let you hear how it all turns out. It would be too upsetting for you.”
With his love for stories, the king’s interest was now keener than ever. He ordered her to tell the ending. “I will,” she said, “if you grant me one favor.”
“What is that, my queen?”
“All those poor women you have in the vault, let them go.”
The king was terrified. “What? If I turned those women loose, there would be an uprising. The people would drag me off the throne.”
“Then the story is not going to end.”
The king could barely contain his curiosity. “My dear, let me think about it.” The days passed, and still no answer. At last the queen said, “I’d better tell you the ending, because I’ll soon be going into labor. What if I should die in childbirth?”
“Oh no, my dear queen! Can’t you put it off a few more days?”
In the meantime the queen was consulting with the women in the vault. After dark she was releasing them quietly, one by one, without causing a stir. The women were returning to their homes with made-up excuses. They’d been away traveling, they said.
When all were free, the queen declared she could no longer postpone the end of her story. She brought the tale quickly to a close, the child was born
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