THE ENCHANTED FOREST.

I DO not know how long I was in King Oberon’s library, as, being very much interested in the books, I took no notice of the flight of time. But reading becomes wearisome even in Faeryland, so, feeling rather tired with study, I lay down beside the marble-encircled pool, and fell fast asleep on the soft green carpet. The delightful stories I had been reading still ran in my head, for my slumber was filled with the most charming dreams. I seemed to see beautiful faces smiling at me from amid masses of golden clouds, long ranges of marble colonnades stretching far away in dazzling whiteness against a dark blue sky, mighty ranges of mountains with snowy summits roseate with the flush of sunsets, and sombre Egyptian temples, wherein lovely priestesses danced their mystic dances before the unseen fane of the sacred Isis. All these wonderful pictures passed through my visionary brain, blending one into the other in inextricable confusion, while strains of the most delicious music kept rising and falling at intervals during this strange phantasmagoria of dreamland.

At length the music grew louder and louder, until I slowly opened my eyes to find myself once more in the enchanted forest, lying on the cool green grass, with the dark blue sky silvered with stars above me, and the thin pale moonlight shining down on the solemn trees and glimmering pool. The music had now words to its melody, for a choir of faery voices, clear and distinct as the sound of tiny silver bells, sang as follows:

“In the moonshine cold and chill,

Nightingale

To the woods so calm and still

Tells her tale.

Dance the fairies one and all

Lightly at the elfin ball,

To her singing’s dying fall.

In the moonshine chill and cold,

Oberon

Will the fairy revels hold;

So begone

Mortal, who with daring eye

Elfish dances would espy.

Mocking our solemnity.”

After listening drowsily to this song for some time with half-closed eyes, I sat up and saw that the whole glade was alive with faeries all running hither and thither, evidently preparing for the coming of King Oberon. As I had been warned in this song to depart, I did not know very well whether they meant it or not, when suddenly Phancie, now reduced to his former size, appeared before me, and I put the question to him.

“It’s not usual to allow any mortal to view our revels,” he said thoughtfully; “still, as the King allowed you to see his library, perhaps he will let you stay a little while, so you can wait till he appears.”

“Has no mortal ever beheld the faery revels?” I asked, after thanking Phancie for his kindness.

“Yes—one Shakespeare,” he answered, nodding his head: “long, long ago the King allowed him to see our solemnity; but he told all about it to the world, which made the King very angry.”

“But he told it so beautifully,” I pleaded.

“I don’t know so much about that,” responded Phancie saucily. “He said Oberon and Titania quarrelled, which is quite a mistake, for they are very fond of one another. Oh, I assure you the affair caused quite a scandal at court; since then the King mistrusts all mortals, and won’t allow them to see anything.”

“Perhaps, then, he’ll send me away.”

“I can’t tell, but it’s very probable he will; or perhaps he will let you stay, and then cause you to forget all you have seen, except what he wishes you to remember.”

“I hope he won’t make me forget the stories I have read.”

“No, he won’t do that; he said you could remember seven, and he never goes back from his word; but as to remembering our revels, I’m afraid he won’t let you do that. But hush! the court is approaching. Go and sit on that fallen tree again.”

I arose obediently, and, walking across the glade to the tree, sat down on it; then, warned by Phancie, kept quite silent.

“You mustn’t speak unless the King asks you a question,” said Phancie pompously. “If he does, be sure to address him as ‘Your Majesty.’”

“I won’t forget,” I replied, and then Phancie, having seen all was in order to receive the King, skipped off to meet the procession, which was now approaching.

Between two great rose-bushes, which formed a triumphal arch of beautiful red blossoms, came a company of merry little faeries, blowing through white trumpet-shaped lilies, followed by a number of crickets creaking in the most lively manner; then came a band of elves ringing bunches of bluebells, which chimed silver music; next marched some fays dressed in thistle down, playing with blades of grass on drums made of empty acorn cups with rose leaves stretched tightly across them; a company of fierce-looking bumble-bees carrying thorns for swords came next; and then a number of beautiful girl faeries in lily-white dresses danced along, singing gaily. After these appeared Oberon and Titania, riding upon two purple-winged butterflies, and the rear of the procession was guarded by a company of soldier elves, and lastly a disorderly crowd of faeries, who played a thousand merry tricks upon one another as they ran along.

When the King and Queen of Faeryland arrived near the pool, Oberon struck the ground with his magic wand, and immediately there bloomed a great white lily, on the golden cushions of whose heart the royal pair took their seat, while all the faeries disposed themselves around according to their rank, and the elfin band played merry music, which rang shrilly in the night air. From all sides of the glade now appeared beautiful white rabbits with pink eyes, lithe brown hares, velvety moles, spiky-looking hedgehogs, and many other strange animals, while thrushes, nightingales, linnets, cuckoos, and doves perched among the branches of the trees.

The King and Queen were much taller than their subjects, and Oberon was dressed in a green hunting-suit, with a crown of dewdrops on his head and a silver wand in his hand; while Titania wore a delicate pink robe made entirely of rose leaves, and her golden hair streamed from under a wreath of lilies of the valley, a spray of the same flowers being in her tiny hand.

When the royal pair had taken their seats, a loud-voiced cricket chirped loudly to command silence, and then a wise-looking owl made a very long speech, in which he bade the King and Queen welcome in the name of their dutiful subjects. The King was about to reply, when a grotesque figure with a large head and pointed ears suddenly started up out of the earth, and rolled like a ball to the foot of the throne.

“Ah, my merry Puck!” said Oberon, laughing at the jester of Faeryland; “where have you been?”

“Plaguing mortals, please your Majesty!” cried Puck, bounding on to the top of a great mushroom, where he sat grinning at every one. “I have played Will-o’-the-Wisp on marshy ground to lead unwary wanderers astray; pinched the lazy maids who lie slug-a-bed; frightened those foolish mortals who believe not in faeries; drank the milk, spoiled the butter, teased the cows, and played merry jokes everywhere.”

“Ah, rogue!” said Oberon, smiling; “thou wert ever cruel in thy pranks. Some day mortals will punish thee.”

“No, no,” said Puck, shaking his head; “why, they don’t believe faeries exist.”

“You hear?” sighed Oberon, looking at me gravely; “you mortals don’t believe faeries exist.”

“I do, your Majesty,” I answered eagerly; “and when I return to earth, I will do my best to convince other people. Besides, sire, children always believe in faeries.”

“Yes, the dear children!” cried Titania brightly; “they are our best friends. Ah, children will always believe in us, although they do not see us.”

“If you would only show yourselves sometimes,” I suggested, “it would make every one believe.”

“I don’t think so,” said Oberon, smiling; “you see your wonderful grown-up people have proved conclusively that there are no faeries, so it would be quite an impertinence for us to appear and upset all their fine theories.”

“It might make their hearts better, your Majesty,” I ventured to remark.

“I doubt it,” replied the King of Faery. “With you it is all greed of money, pursuit of pleasure, and desire of learning; there is no room in your lives to believe that beings like us exist; we can be turned to no practical use, therefore you mortals regard us as unnecessary existences. But while the world moves on, there will always be bright, happy children who will keep our memories fresh and green in their hearts, and perhaps some day, when the world returns to its childlike faith of old, we may once more appear to mortals.”

“Meanwhile”—I began.

“Meanwhile,” repeated Oberon a little sadly, “you will go back to earth and write down the seven stories you have read in my library; when good children read them they may perhaps find out their hidden meaning, and it will make them wiser and more obedient. Tell your child friends that faeries do nothing without having some good end in view, and if they want to please us, they must try and be noble and good, for there is nothing so hateful in the world as wickedness. And now, mortal, I will permit you to see a faery dance, and then you must leave us for ever.”

“For ever?”

“Unless,” said the King graciously, “you revisit us in your beautiful dreams. Good-bye, mortal, good-bye:

“Though years may bring thee pain and grief,

In airy elves still have belief,

While thou of earth art denizen.

And may thou ever think as truth

The lovely idle dreams of youth:

This is the Faeries’ benison.”

Then from the elfin band rang out sweet, wild music, and on the smooth greensward the merry faeries danced lightly in the pale moonshine. They whirled in and out, swayed into graceful circles, and melted away like foam on the crest of an emerald wave, floated in long wreaths which wavered and broke as breaks the mist on snow-peaked mountains, blended together again in picturesque confusion, while sweet and shrill sounded the weird music, blown through the warm air of the summer night. The perfume of a thousand flowers arose from the ground, strange blossoms bloomed suddenly under the flying feet of the elves, and round and round the lily throne of gracious Oberon and airy Titania whirled the elfin circle, singing their farewell song to the sweet voices of the birds:

“Flashing stars and silver moon

Waning in the western skies;

Crimson is the east, and soon

Will the orb of day arise.

Chilly blows the morning breeze,

Dewdrops glitter on the lawn;

Through the branches of the trees

Flushes now the rosy dawn.

Idle faery dreams have fled,

Not a moment can they wait;

Visions of the night are dead,

Sleep has barred her ivory gate.

But when silver moonlight gleams,

Close your eyes, O poet true,

Then from Faeryland of dreams

We will come again to you.”

And through the branches of the trees shone the red glare of the dawn, which seemed to come nearer and nearer. The great boughs with their myriad leaves faded into the angry scarlet, a veil of darkness enveloped me, and, awaking with a start, I found myself seated in my arm-chair in the shadowy room, with the fire burning redly in the grate.

Even the cricket had ceased to sing, and outside the white snowflakes still fell, and the wind whistled shrilly round the house. Was it a dream? Maybe! for it is only in dreams, dear children, that we can ever hope to visit Faeryland, where dwell all those lovely fancies and beautiful thoughts which form your enchanted world; but the child who has once visited the wonderful realm of gracious Oberon must try never to forget what he has seen, so that, when he becomes a grown-up person, he can remember his childish glimpse of the delightful Kingdom of Faeryland.

Transcriber’s Notes

Pg. 30 - Closing single quote changed to double to match opening quote. Pg. 30 - Added colon to paragraph end, seems to be a trace in the scan. Pg. 71 - Closing single quote changed to double to match opening quote. Pg. 76 - Corrected typo: “... gold box from Salmander” > “Salamander” Pg. 79 - Period added at end of paragraph instead of comma. Pg. 104 - Missing period added. Extra spaces in original but no period. Pg. 105 - Opening single quote changed to double to match opening quote. Pg. 130 & 131 - Rose Princess changed to Rose-Princess to match style. Pg. 141 - “Mirvenetta” changed to “Minervetta,” as that conforms to the latter, more likely, mention. Pg. 155 - Closing single quote changed to double to match opening quote. Pg. 163 - Added opening quote to match end quote in poem. Aside from the above, archaic and non-standard spelling and inconsistent hyphenation have been retained.

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