The Young Man Who Would Have His Eyes Opened

: The Violet Fairy Book

Once upon a time there lived a youth who was never happy unless

he was prying into something that other people knew nothing

about. After he had learned to understand the language of birds

and beasts, he discovered accidentally that a great deal took

place under cover of night which mortal eyes never saw. From

that moment he felt he could not rest till these hidden secrets

were laid bare to him, and he spent his whole time wandering from

one wizard to another, begging them to open his eyes, but found

none to help him. At length he reached an old magician called

Mana, whose learning was greater than that of the rest, and who

could tell him all he wanted to know. But when the old man had

listened attentively to him, he said, warningly:



'My son, do not follow after empty knowledge, which will not

bring you happiness, but rather evil. Much is hidden from the

eyes of men, because did they know everything their hearts would

no longer be at peace. Knowledge kills joy, therefore think well

what you are doing, or some day you will repent. But if you will

not take my advice, then truly I can show you the secrets of the

night. Only you will need more than a man's courage to bear the

sight.'



He stopped and looked at the young man, who nodded his head, and

then the wizard continued, 'To-morrow night you must go to the

place where, once in seven years, the serpent-king gives a great

feast to his whole court. In front of him stands a golden bowl

filled with goats' milk, and if you can manage to dip a piece of

bread in this milk, and eat it before you are obliged to fly, you

will understand all the secrets of the night that are hidden from

other men. It is lucky for you that the serpent-king's feast

happens to fall this year, otherwise you would have had long to

wait for it. But take care to be quick and bold, or it will be

the worse for you.'



The young man thanked the wizard for his counsel, and went his

way firmly resolved to carry out his purpose, even if he paid for

it with his life; and when night came he set out for a wide,

lonely moor, where the serpent-king held his feast. With

sharpened eyes, he looked eagerly all round him, but could see

nothing but a multitude of small hillocks, that lay motionless

under the moonlight. He crouched behind a bush for some time,

till he felt that midnight could not be far off, when suddenly

there arose in the middle of the moor a brilliant glow, as if a

star was shining over one of the hillocks. At the same moment

all the hillocks began to writhe and to crawl, and from each one

came hundreds of serpents and made straight for the glow, where

they knew they should find their king. When they reached the

hillock where he dwelt, which was higher and broader than the

rest, and had a bright light hanging over the top, they coiled

themselves up and waited. The whirr and confusion from all the

serpent-houses were so great that the youth did not dare to

advance one step, but remained where he was, watching intently

all that went on; but at last he began to take courage, and moved

on softly step by step.



What he saw was creepier than creepy, and surpassed all he had

ever dreamt of. Thousands of snakes, big and little and of every

colour, were gathered together in one great cluster round a huge

serpent, whose body was as thick as a beam, and which had on its

head a golden crown, from which the light sprang. Their hissings

and darting tongues so terrified the young man that his heart

sank, and he felt he should never have courage to push on to

certain death, when suddenly he caught sight of the golden bowl

in front of the serpent-king, and knew that if he lost this

chance it would never come back. So, with his hair standing on

end and his blood frozen in his veins, he crept forwards. Oh!

what a noise and a whirr rose afresh among the serpents.

Thousands of heads were reared, and tongues were stretched out to

sting the intruder to death, but happily for him their bodies

were so closely entwined one in the other that they could not

disentangle themselves quickly. Like lightning he seized a bit

of bread, dipped it in the bowl, and put it in his mouth, then

dashed away as if fire was pursuing him. On he flew as if a

whole army of foes were at his heels, and he seemed to hear the

noise of their approach growing nearer and nearer. At length his

breath failed him, and he threw himself almost senseless on the

turf. While he lay there dreadful dreams haunted him. He

thought that the serpent-king with the fiery crown had twined

himself round him, and was crushing out his life. With a loud

shriek he sprang up to do battle with his enemy, when he saw that

it was rays of the sun which had wakened him. He rubbed his eyes

and looked all round, but nothing could he see of the foes of the

past night, and the moor where he had run into such danger must

be at least a mile away. But it was no dream that he had run

hard and far, or that he had drunk of the magic goats' milk. And

when he felt his limbs, and found them whole, his joy was great

that he had come through such perils with a sound skin.



After the fatigues and terrors of the night, he lay still till

mid-day, but he made up his mind he would go that very evening

into the forest to try what the goats' milk could really do for

him, and if he would now be able to understand all that had been

a mystery to him. And once in the forest his doubts were set at

rest, for he saw what no mortal eyes had ever seen before.

Beneath the trees were golden pavilions, with flags of silver all

brightly lighted up. He was still wondering why the pavilions

were there, when a noise was heard among the trees, as if the

wind had suddenly got up, and on all sides beautiful maidens

stepped from the trees into the bright light of the moon. These

were the wood-nymphs, daughters of the earth-mother, who came

every night to hold their dances, in the forest. The young man,

watching from his hiding place, wished he had a hundred eyes in

his head, for two were not nearly enough for the sight before

him, the dances lasting till the first streaks of dawn. Then a

silvery veil seemed to be drawn over the ladies, and they

vanished from sight. But the young man remained where he was

till the sun was high in the heavens, and then went home.



He felt that day to be endless, and counted the minutes till

night should come, and he might return to the forest. But when

at last he got there he found neither pavilions nor nymphs, and

though he went back many nights after he never saw them again.

Still, he thought about them night and day, and ceased to care

about anything else in the world, and was sick to the end of his

life with longing for that beautiful vision. And that was the

way he learned that the wizard had spoken truly when he said,

'Blindness is man's highest good.'



[Ehstnische Marchen.]