THERE once lived a King, who had reigned for many years over his kingdom, and with his Queen was idolized by his subjects. Only one thing was wanting to make his happiness complete. This was the want of an heir to his crown; and when, after a long period had elapsed, contrary to all expectations, a son was born to him, you may be sure there was great rejoicing throughout the land.

In that country, as in many others, it was the custom for all the male children born on the same day with the heir-apparent to the crown to be brought up with him, and devoted to his service. They were educated at the expense of the State, and the parents thought themselves indeed fortunate in having their children so magnificently provided for without exertion on their own part. Amid these youths Prince Anjah, who in reality was a paragon of beauty, stood pre-eminent. They were all fine looking and noble boys, excepting one, the dwarfish Balzebar, who was ugly in countenance and deformed in person, and of so weak an intellect that he was almost an idiot. He was, beside this, both deaf and dumb. The King was going to reject this poor little mischance at first, but the Queen, who was a wise and benevolent woman, represented to her husband that this misfortune, in being incapable of providing for himself, gave him a more especial claim on the protection of his sovereign, and besides that, as everything, however humble and despised, had its use, this unfortunate child might perhaps be destined to exert some powerful influence on the fortunes of their son. Her words made such an impression on the King’s mind, he consented to receive Balzebar with the rest, to the great joy of his parents, who would not otherwise have known what to do with him.

As the children grew older, Anjah, who was of a most generous and noble disposition, took Balzebar under his own particular care and guardianship, and thus prevented poor Balzebar from being harassed as he would have been by the ridicule of his more unthinking companions, who delighted in tormenting the poor soul, and in playing their tricks upon him. Balzebar in return became so attached to Prince Anjah, that he followed him about everywhere, as a dog might have done his master who was kind to him, and was never contented away from him. It was a curious sight to see the tall and finely-formed Anjah followed everywhere by this little stunted and ugly dwarf.

When the Prince had reached his eighteenth year, in accordance with the custom of that time, he was sent to a foreign country, where learning and the arts were in an advanced state, to be educated. All the young men, his followers, accompanied him, even Balzebar; for though the King and his ministers had at first decided that he should remain at home, fearing that the constant appearance of such an inferior personage in his train might be prejudicial to the dignity of the young Prince, yet, at the earnest solicitation of Anjah (who knew that the faithful creature would grieve himself to death if he should forsake him), he was permitted to depart with them. A fine vessel had been put in order for their use, and with a band of music the Prince and his retinue were escorted to the place where it was in waiting. Great crowds were collected on the shore, and the loud huzzas of the populace drowned the swelling notes of the trumpet as their Prince, with his white plumes floating to the wind, stepped on board the ship; but they could scarcely restrain a yell of contempt and derisive laughter as the little hump-backed mute followed after him up the plank with the agility of a monkey. Two and two the others embarked, and the young men stood on the upper deck together as the vessel moved off, and waved their adieus, till at last the helmet with the snowy plumes, which was the distinguishing mark of the Prince, could no longer be seen.

Anjah felt grieved at parting with his parents, and as his father was quite an old man, he thought it very probable that he should never see him again, for he was to remain five long years away from home; and the tears, in spite of his efforts, started forth as he saw the King watching the receding vessel, and knew what a pang his heart was suffering in thus separating from his child, the pride of his old age. But when distance shut from his sight the land and all familiar objects, the world seemed as it were opening before him, full of bright promise; he forgot his sorrow, and as the bark bounded lightly over the billows, his heart danced within him, buoyant with hope and pleasure. After a short and prosperous voyage, they came in view of the beautiful land which was their destination. They were received by the King of the country with distinguished honor, befitting their rank and importance. This King was reputed to be as wise as Solomon, and had collected to his court all the learned men of the world; and hither were sent the youth of high rank from all nations, to learn wisdom of these sages. But their parents would have done well to have kept them at home out of harm’s way, for the high-spirited young men who flocked to this Temple of Minerva thought their own wisdom far superior to that of the sages, and held all their acquirements in very light esteem; and if they learned anything at all, it was the knowledge which experience gives, which, to be sure, is the very best sort of lore, but which they might have acquired just as perfectly anywhere else.

Anjah had not been long there before he became initiated into the secret that Merea, the King’s daughter, was the most beautiful Princess in the world, and he pondered much more deeply on this fact than on the philosophy of the schools, and he strove with much greater assiduity to be the successful candidate for her heart and hand than for the prizes offered to the victorious scholar, or the laurel wreath of the poet. As he was far handsomer than all her other suitors, he had very little difficulty in gaining the young maiden’s particular and approving notice. His agreeable manners became a certain passport to her favor, and she so honored him above the rest, that Anjah, conscious of victory, assumed rather a high and triumphant air among those who were, like himself, captivated with the King’s charming daughter. He spent all his leisure time in her company, and did not rest easy till he had obtained her father’s permission to address his daughter, which he found little difficulty in gaining, for the King “as wise as Solomon,” saw very plainly that no more noble son-in-law would ever be likely to present himself. After Anjah had conversed with Merea, and found the maiden already won, he sent to seek his father’s consent to his betrothal to her, as the fame of her excellence and beauty had reached him. The King, his father, could think of no more suitable consort for his son than a Princess so charming and of such a high rank, so, sending his approval and blessing to his son, Anjah and Merea were publicly betrothed. Then, and not till then, Anjah applied himself sedulously to the study of the sciences which should fit him for governing a kingdom, and filling with dignity the exalted station to which Providence had destined him.

Three years passed away, and Anjah’s improvement in mind did honor to his teachers, and to his own perseverance and capacity; two years more, and the allotted time of his exile, (which owing to the society of Merea, had been anything but irksome,) would be fulfilled, and he was looking forward to the time when he should return with his bride to his native land, when a hasty summons came, commanding him to speed his departure, as his father was lying at the point of death, and longed once more to see his son alive. Anjah delayed not a moment to obey the call, though his heart was full of conflicting emotions—sorrow at being obliged to leave his betrothed, mingled with anxiety to see his father once more; and bidding adieu to the many friends that his kindness and affability had won, he went with his followers down to the vessel, which had been sent to convey him home, accompanied by the King, the Princess Merea, and all their retinue. The King, in bidding him farewell, pronounced a blessing, and conferred on him many valuable presents as marks of his favor; but the Princess, when she parted with him, gave him only one keepsake, but that was of surpassing richness; it was a cloak of beaten gold, curiously wrought, of the purest metal, so elastic and pliable that it fell like a mantle over his shoulders; she clasped it with her own hands about his neck, and then by signs bade Balzebar, who stood beside them, to make it his especial care, so that Anjah should not lose or be robbed of it.

In the time of their sojourn in this country, Balzebar had attached himself more than ever to Anjah; and Merea, who had petted him, on account of his attachment to the Prince, was looked upon by the dwarf as almost as great a paragon as his master,—indeed, an angel of goodness. She became so associated in his mind with the Prince Anjah, that he was ever eager to do her bidding, and promised to take care of the cloak, and suffer no one to take it away; then giving Prince Anjah her last adieu, Merea departed with her father. Anjah assuring her that he would return as speedily as possible, and make her his wife. When the vessel was out at sea, Anjah and his companions remained on deck, pacing up and down, or looking pensively at the receding shore, thinking of the kind and fair ones that they had left behind, and wishing themselves back again, all but the poor mute, Balzebar, who sat watching Anjah, with his cloak glittering in the sun, and the white plumes of the golden helmet, which he always wore, fluttering in the breeze. His dull eyes were half dazzled by the light which was reflected on this shining mantle, and he opened and shut them as if basking in the radiance. When night came, and the Prince had divested himself of his golden helmet, with the white plumes, and the golden cloak, Balzebar put them carefully away, in a box which had been prepared for the purpose, and then placing it under his head, for a pillow, slept, as he always did, like a great dog at the feet of Prince Anjah.

About midnight, they were awakened by a terrible noise; it was thunder, mingling with the roaring of the sea. While they had been sleeping, a most terrific storm had arisen, and bidding Balzebar follow him, Anjah rushed on deck. The elements were in a perfect fury, the ship was tossed wildly about on the summit of the waves, and seemed as if going to pieces with the strain. Just then there came the cry that the vessel had sprung a leak, and a boat was hastily let down, into which the Prince and his companions were hurried. Beside the Prince on deck, gazing on all with wonder and dismay, Balzebar had stood, till seeing Anjah descend into the boat, and beckon to himself, he disappeared. Vainly they called him; he could not hear their cries nor answer them. Fearful for their own safety, none of the crew would venture in search of him, and being all in the boat, they pushed off lest they might be swamped beneath the vessel, and were far away before Anjah discovered that Balzebar was not among them. To return for him was beyond all human power. When morning light appeared, the storm had calmed, yet no trace of the vessel could be seen. So they concluded that the ship had sunk, and that poor Balzebar had made his grave ere now in the ocean’s depths. With great exertions, they managed to bend the course of the boat in the same direction whence they came, and after almost incredible toils and dangers, were driven by the wind so near the shore, as to be picked up by a vessel bound for the port, and carried safely to land, where they were welcomed by the King and the Princess Merea, and with as great rejoicing as if they had been restored again from the dead. And now Anjah and Merea seemed doubly dear to each other, and she mourned with him over the supposed fate of the poor harmless and faithful Balzebar. But let us leave the Prince in the kind keeping of the King and Princess, while we see what was in reality become of the lost Balzebar.

When the Prince descended into the boat, and made signs to Balzebar to follow him, the first impulse of the dwarf was to obey his master; but, remembering the box which contained the royal helmet, and the golden cloak, he ran below to secure it. It took him a long time to find his way to the berth, on account of the darkness and the motion of the vessel, and when at last he reached the deck, the boat had gone far away, out of his sight. Not knowing what to do, he sat down in his despair, and fearing every moment that he should be washed overboard by the waves, made preparations to lash himself on to the masts; but ere he did this, to prevent the loss of that, which to his poor, weak mind, was of far more importance than his own life, the golden cloak and the royal helmet and plumes, he placed the latter upon his head, and bound it firmly on; and then taking the cloak out of its folds, fastened it securely round his own neck; it was intended to cover the shoulders, and fall to the knees of Anjah; but it sufficed to envelop the whole form of the dwarf, even to his very feet; and now with this rich shroud about him, he lashed himself to the mast, just in time to be saved from an impending death; for very soon the vessel divided asunder, and the drifting wreck to which Balzebar was attached, was tossed about at the mercy of the waves. How long he remained in this position he knew not; he became insensible from hunger and cold, and would no doubt have soon perished had not some sailors on a vessel espied a glittering object at a distance. They came nearer to it, and discovered that it was a human being clinging to the masts of a ship; and rescuing him from his perilous situation, and seeing the royal garb in which he was arrayed, they conceived that he was some great prince, and treated him in a manner that accorded with such a supposition. He was taken on board the ship, and all treated him with the respect and deference to which his seeming high rank entitled him. When he reached the shore, a proclamation was issued, that a great prince had been found shipwrecked, and had been rescued in his royal robes; his person was also described as being as imposing and grand as were his habiliments, and notwithstanding that he was unable to speak one word, or make any intelligible sound, but kept up a disagreeable sort of muttering, no one seemed to discover that he was at all wanting in intellect, and the proclamation went on and stated his mind and accomplishments to be equal to his person. It was only necessary for him to make his appearance with his golden cloak about him, and the helmet with the white plumes on his head, (and no one could persuade him for one moment to divest himself of them,) to have a crowd of adorers follow in his pathway with shouts and huzzas.

Indeed, such was their adulation, that they bore him about in a sort of triumphal car, and he became the people’s idol. The little sense that Balzebar had ever been blessed with, had nearly all been lost in the hardships and dangers to which he had been exposed, and he allowed himself to be borne about, pleased as a child might have been with a pageant, in which he himself was the principal object.

At last the account of the finding of this wonderful prince in the golden cloak was read at the court, which had long been awaiting the return of Anjah and his suite, and when his fine person, and the helmet with the snowy plumes, were described, his subjects and friends, of course, felt very sure that it was no other than their own prince, and, as the country was not far distant, a cavalcade was dispatched to make certain of the truth, and to attend him to his home. The King was not yet dead, but illness had so impaired his intellect that he had become perfectly imbecile and unfit to govern, and, in the absence of any acknowledged head, the affairs of the State were getting into sad confusion. When the messengers arrived, and were shown into the presence of Balzebar, although at first surprised to find that he could not speak one word to them, yet the moment he arose and displayed his glittering cloak before their eyes they felt ready to fall down at his feet, and acknowledge him their prince. Besides, the royal helmet and the white plumes, would, of itself, have been sufficient to convince them, if there had been no other proof; so, sending a herald before them with the joyful news that it was indeed the long-absent one, they prepared to escort him to his kingdom. The Queen could not leave the palace, on account of the weak state of the King, her husband, but the prime minister and all the courtiers, with crowds of the common people, went to the very outskirts of the kingdom to meet the Prince, and, sending her love and kind messages by him, the Queen sat herself down to await as patiently as possible the arrival of her son. When the prime minister was shown into the presence of Balzebar he started back in astonishment, “Could this be Prince Anjah, this stunted being?” yet here truly was his helmet and his snowy plumes, and then here, too, was his cloak of gold with which the rest of the courtiers were so blinded that they never thought for a moment of doubting that this was their prince indeed, but were as loud and instant in praise of his fine person and noble mien as all others had been before them. Disgusted with their shortsightedness, the prime minister, who was wiser than the rest, and never for a moment supposed that a noble youth like Anjah could have become this deformed and withered thing, whose ugliness no cloak of gold could conceal from him, turned to address the unconscious cause of so much error; instead of an answer came a low, indistinct muttering and mystical signs. The truth flashed upon the mind of the prime minister—this was Balzebar, the poor little idiot mute, and, peering beneath the helmet, which, with the plumes, concealed his countenance, almost as much as the golden cloak did his person, recognised the dull, unmeaning eyes and the expressionless mouth of the poor dwarf. Keeping his discovery in his own breast, and pretending to share in the delusion of the rest, he prepared to join in the procession which was to attend Balzebar to the palace, but, before reaching the gates of the city, under pretence of hastening home to prepare for the better reception of the Prince, he obtained leave to arrive at the palace before the rest, in reality to reveal his discovery to the Queen, and to prepare her mind for the great disappointment that she must feel, in not being able to welcome her son to his home. She wept bitter tears when he told his tale, and she thought of the probable fate of Anjah; but she was a high-souled woman, and bore herself in her misfortunes like a queen. She agreed with the minister that it was far better to encourage the infatuation of the people till such time as the fate of Anjah should be decided, than to allow a person of more energy and address to get the present possession of the throne, from whom it would be impossible to wrest it, if he should still be alive. But their consultation was interrupted by the noisy shouts from without, which warned her of the approach of the procession. She instantly recognised Balzebar, whom she received as if he were indeed her son, and he was installed at once in the Prince’s apartments in the palace, where all did him homage; and as, day by day, he used to show himself in his golden cloak on the balconies, his subjects became more enthusiastic than ever, and would greet him with shouts that rent the very skies. Preparations were immediately made for the ceremony of the coronation of the Prince (for the King seemed to be past all hope of recovering his reason), which, owing to the liberality of the people, who loved to honor their idol, was to be on a larger scale than any ever before known, and the whole kingdom seemed united in a desire to do homage to so great a prince.

About this time one morning a vessel hove in sight, and was spoken, and from the replies it was gathered that in it was the Prince Anjah, with his bride the Princess Merea; that the former had been shipwrecked, and was now returning, with all his train, to his native land. The news spread like wild-fire; great crowds came down to see the vessel; but it was at once determined on all hands that the new comer was an impostor, and that he should not be allowed to land; indeed, so great was the indignation manifested, they fired upon the ship, which hastily withdrew from the harbor out of their reach. What must have been the feelings of Anjah, who, after years of absence and escape from so many dangers, was thus greeted on coming in sight of his native shore, which he had left years before, followed by the blessings of the people. One thing was very certain; it was folly to attempt to land while there was such a feeling of opposition abroad, so they removed out of harm’s way, and the vessel was anchored at a distance, but not out of the view of all, for from the towers of the palace the mother of Anjah was watching the ship, for she, as well as the prime minister, had heard of the arrival of the stranger, and all day had been maturing their plans to restore Anjah to his home and his rights, and were only waiting for the night to seek the vessel, and bring him, his bride, and his companions on shore. Accordingly, as soon as it was dark, one or two devoted servants of the Queen, who were entrusted with the secret, went out in boats till they reached the ship, and there revealed to the Prince the state of things at home, and prevailed on him and his followers to return with them. They were landed as secretly as possible, and gained the palace without detection. Here they were met by the Queen and the prime minister; the former embraced her long-lost son and his bride with the most fervent affection, and they recounted to each other all the trials and dangers to which both had been subjected. It seems that Anjah had remained in the kingdom of Merea’s father till a vessel had been fitted up for him, and, fearing to be again parted from Merea, after the shipwreck, which had so nearly sundered them for ever, Anjah had determined, ere his departure, to make her his wife, so that she might accompany him to his home. When the ship was in readiness the nuptials had been celebrated, and they had set sail. Anjah recounted to his mother and the minister the history of the shipwreck, of the loss of Balzebar, the royal helmet and plumes, and of the golden cloak. The Queen and the minister, in their turn, related to Anjah the subsequent history of Balzebar, the infatuation of the people, and that on the morrow he was to be crowned King with great pomp. They all tried to devise some plan which, if adopted, might bring all things to their true and proper position. At last Anjah thought of a way of revealing himself to Balzebar, for upon a public recognition of him by the poor dwarf himself seemed to hang his only chance of being acknowledged. The night was spent in revolving this scheme, which was heartily approved by all.

On the morrow, early in the morning, a great crowd was assembled before the palace, each striving to be foremost to get a place where they might witness so august a ceremony. All things were prepared on the most magnificent scale; music resounded in peals to the skies; trains of cavalry and infantry, with their glittering arms flashing in the sun, were filling in the courts; in the midst was a platform under an awning, on which was placed a throne prepared for Balzebar, and when all was in readiness he was led forth. As the shouts of admiration went up, the dwarf lolled idly in his seat, and toyed with the golden sceptre that was presented to him; his dull eye wandering without expression over the assembly. Anjah, in disguise, placed himself in front of him, and presently, when directly in his line of vision, raised the cap that shaded his brow, and gave him a full view of his countenance, at the same time fixing on him his eye. Balzebar was transfixed with astonishment for an instant; then, with a cry of joy, rushing forward, tore off the royal helmet and the golden cloak, and threw them, with himself, at the feet of Anjah. A low murmur arose from the crowd as the well known and despised dwarf, Balzebar, was before them, revealed in all his natural hideousness. At this moment the prime minister, who stood near at hand, threw the cloak of gold over the shoulders of Anjah, and placed the helmet with the white plumes upon his lofty brow, and, as they knew their true prince, a shout so triumphant arose from the assembled multitude that it seemed like the breaking of thunder.

No farther notice was taken of Balzebar, but the crown was placed on the head of Anjah, who now brought forward the Princess Merea, and presented her as his spouse, and their future Queen. The whole procession returned to the palace, in which Anjah was received as the reigning prince. The King, though he recovered sufficiently to recognise his son, remained still too weak in mind to admit of his assuming the reins of government, which he quietly resigned to his heir, and passed a quiet and peaceful old age, cheered by the kind attentions of his Queen and his daughter-in-law, the Princess Merea, to whom he became tenderly attached. As for Balzebar, he returned to private life with a much better grace than many others who have been thrown down from a less exalted position. He was ever an intimate of the palace, and was appointed by the King as “Keeper of the Royal Helmet and Golden Cloak,” a post for which he had before showed himself particularly fitted, and to which he thenceforth, as before, remained faithful. He lived long enough to follow the son and daughter of the Prince and Princess as he had done their father and mother before them. As for Anjah and Merea, they ever retained the good opinion and admiration of their subjects, and bequeathed a prosperous and peaceful kingdom to their heirs.