A Fairy Tale, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Wearied with the labours of the day, an old Ferryman lay asleep in his hut, on the bank of a wide river, which the late heavy rains had swollen to an unprecedented height. In the middle of the night he was awakened by a loud cry: he listened; it was the call of some travellers who wished to be ferried over.

Upon opening the door, he was surprised to see two Will-o’-the-wisps dancing round his boat, which was still secured to its moorings. Speaking with human voices, they assured him that they were in the greatest possible hurry, and wished to be carried instantly to the other side of the river. Without losing a moment, the old Ferryman pushed off, and rowed across with his usual dexterity. During the passage the strangers whispered together in an unknown language, and several times burst into loud laughter; whilst they amused themselves with dancing upon the sides and seats of the boat, and cutting fantastic capers at the bottom.

“The boat reels,” cried the old man; “and, if you continue so restless, it may upset. Sit down, you Will-o’-the-wisps.”

They burst into loud laughter at this command, ridiculed the boatman, and became more troublesome than ever. But he bore their annoyance patiently, and they soon reached the opposite bank of the river.

“Here is something for your trouble,” said the passengers, shaking themselves, when a number of glittering gold pieces fell into the boat.

“What are you doing?” cried the old man: “some misfortune will happen should a single piece of gold fall into the water. The river, which has a strong antipathy to gold, would become fearfully agitated, and swallow both me and my boat. Who can say even what might happen to yourselves? I pray you take back your gold.”

“We can take nothing back which we have once shaken from our persons,” answered one of them.

“Then, I shall be compelled,” replied the old boatman, as he stooped, and collected the gold in his cap, “to take it to the shore and bury it.”

The Will-o’-the-wisps had in the meantime leaped out of the boat, upon which the old man cried, “Pay me my fare.”

“The man who refuses gold must work for nothing,” answered the Will-o’-the-wisps.

“My payment must consist of fruits of the earth,” rejoined the Ferryman.

“Fruits of the earth? We despise them: they are not food for us.”

“But you shall not depart,” replied the Ferryman, “till you have given me three cauliflowers, three artichokes, and three large onions.”

The Will-o’-the-wisps were in the act of running away, with a laugh, when they felt themselves in some inexplicable manner fixed to the earth: they had never experienced so strange a sensation. They then promised to pay the demand without delay, upon which the Ferryman released them, and instantly pushed off with his boat.

He was already far away, when they called after him, “Old man! listen: we have forgotten something important.”

But he heard them not, and continued his course. When he had reached a point lower down, on the same side of the river, he came to some rocks which the water was unable to reach, and proceeded to bury the dangerous gold. Observing a deep cleft which opened between two rocks, he threw the gold into it, and returned to his dwelling.

This cleft was inhabited by a beautiful green Dragon, who was awakened from her sleep by the sound of the falling money. At the very first appearance of the glittering pieces, she devoured them greedily, then searched about carefully in hopes of finding such other coins as might have fallen accidentally amongst the briers, or between the fissures of the rocks.

The Dragon immediately felt overpowered with the most delightful sensations, and perceived with joy that she became suddenly shining and transparent. She had been long aware that this change was possible; but, entertaining some doubt whether the brilliance would continue, she felt impelled by curiosity to leave her dwelling, and ascertain, if possible, to whom she was indebted for the beautiful gold. She found no one; but she became lost in admiration of herself, and of the brilliant light which illumined her path through the thick underwood, and shed its rays over the surrounding green. The leaves of the trees glittered like emeralds, and the flowers shone with glorious hues. In vain did she penetrate the solitary wilderness; but hope dawned when she reached the plains, and observed at a distance a light resembling her own.

“Have I at last discovered my fellow?” she exclaimed, and hastened to the spot.

She found no obstacle from bog or morass; for though the dry meadow and the high rock were her dearest habitations, and though she loved to feed upon the spicy root, and to quench her thirst with the crystal dew, and with fresh water from the spring, yet, for the sake of her beloved gold and of her glorious light, she was willing to encounter every privation.

Wearied and exhausted, she reached at length the confines of a wide morass, where our two Will-o’-the wisps were amusing themselves in playing fantastic antics. She made toward them, and, saluting them, expressed her delight at being able to claim relationship with such charming personages. The lights played around her, skipped from side to side, and laughed about in their own peculiar fashion.

“Dear aunt!” they exclaimed, “what does it signify, even though you are of horizontal form? We are related at least through brilliancy. But look how well a tall, slender figure becomes us gentry of the vertical shape,” and, so saying, both the lights compressed their breadth together, and shot up into a thin and pointed line. “Do not be offended, dear friend,” they continued, “but what family can boast of a privilege like ours? Since the first Will-o’-the-wisp was created, none of our race have ever been obliged to sit down or to take repose.”

But all this time the feelings of the Dragon in the presence of her relations were anything but pleasant for, exalt her head as high as she would, she was compelled to stoop to earth again when she wished to advance; and, though she was proud of the brilliancy which she shed round her own dark abode, she felt her light gradually diminish in the presence of her relatives, and began to fear that it might finally be extinguished.

In her perplexity she hastily inquired whether the gentlemen could inform her whence the shining gold had come, which had lately fallen into the cleft of the rocks hard by; as in her opinion it was a precious shower from heaven. The Will-o’-the-wisps immediately shook themselves (at the same time laughing loudly), and a deluge of gold pieces at once flowed around. The Dragon devoured them greedily.

“We hope you like them, dear aunt,” shouted the shining Will-o’-the-wisps, “we can supply you with any quantity.”

They shook themselves with such copious effect, that the Dragon found it difficult to swallow the bright dainties with sufficient speed. Her brilliancy increased as the gold disappeared, till at length she shone with inconceivable radiance; while in the same proportion the Will-o’-the-wisps grew thin and tapering, without, however, losing the smallest iota of their cheerful humour.

“I am under eternal obligations to you,” said the Dragon, pausing to breathe from her voracious meal: “ask of me what you please; I will give you anything you demand.”

“A bargain!” answered the Will-o’-the-wisps, “tell us, then, where the beautiful Lily dwells. Lead us to her palace and gardens without delay: we die of impatience to cast ourselves at her feet.”

“You ask a favour,” replied the Dragon, with a deep sigh, “which it is not in my power so quickly to bestow. The beautiful Lily lives, unfortunately, on the opposite bank of the river. We cannot cross over on this stormy night.”

“Cruel river, which separates us from the object of our desires! But cannot we call back the old Ferryman?” said they.

“Your wish is vain,” answered the Dragon; “for, even were you to meet him on this bank, he would refuse to take you; as, though he can convey passengers to this side of the stream, he can carry no one back.”

“Bad news, indeed! But are there no other means of crossing the river?”

“There are, but not at this moment: I myself can take you over at mid-day.”

“That is an hour,” replied the Will-o’-the-wisps, “when we do not usually travel.”

“Then, you had better postpone your intention till evening, when you may cross in the Giant’s shadow.”

“How is that managed?” they inquired.

“The Giant,” replied the Dragon, “who lives hard by, is powerless with his body: his hands are incapable of raising even a straw, his shoulders can bear no burden; but his shadow accomplishes all for him. For