The Padishah’s Daughter and the Young Slave

The viziers tried to find a man like that in their own city, but no one measured up to the Princess’s demands.

The Padishah himself then set off on a journey to other towns. He rode for a long time and finally came to a wide river. On the bank squatted an old man with a beard that was long and green like sea-weed, he had on a green robe, and had a green staff in his hand. He was writing something with a black pebble on white pebbles which he then threw into the river.

The Padishah rode right up to the old man and asked him what he was writing on those pebbles and why he threw them into the water.

“I foretell people’s future. Whatever I write on a white pebble which I then throw into the river will come to pass.”

“Could you foretell my daughter’s future? Who is destined to become her husband?” asked the Padishah, and told the old man about his proud, conceited daughter who refused to marry anyone but the handsomest and strongest young man in the world.

The old man smiled, wrote something on a white pebble, threw it into the river, and said:

“Your daughter will marry neither a pauper nor a labourer, she’ll marry a slave.”

“Oh no! It cannot be!” cried the Padishah in alarm because he remembered that he did have a slave working in his household, he was a young man and the best worker in town, but a slave he was!

The Padishah hurried back home, and all the way he was thinking how to avert that terrible disaster from his daughter. The moment he returned to his palace, he called his viziers together and told them what fate had in store for the Princess.

“Woe unto us, woe! That wretched slave intends to marry my daughter! What am I to do!”

“Chop off his head,” replied the viziers promptly.

When the poor young slave heard that he was to die, he pleaded and swore that he did not have the slightest desire to marry the Princess.

“What, he has the impudence to refuse the Padishah’s daughter?” cried the sly viziers. ‘Off with his head for such impudence!”

And the Padishah agreed with them.

A very, very old and very, very wise man lived in a small hut not far from the palace. He was so old that he could no longer walk. When he heard about Padishah’s cruel order, he begged his neighbours:

“Please, put me on a white felt rug, pick it up by the four corners, and carry me to the Padishah.”

They did so, and when they brought him to the palace the Padishah asked the wise man:

“What advice have you come to give me, old sage?” asked the Padishah.

“Oh Padishah, you are free to do what you will with your servants,” replied the old man. “Send your young slave to the end of the world, give him any order you can think of, only don’t execute that innocent youth.”

The Padishah ordered the young slave to be brought into his presence.

“Hey you, wretched slave!” he said to the young man. “Go and find for me two precious pearls the size of walnuts with a moonglow inside them. If you find them I’ll grant you your life, and give you your freedom besides. If you don’t find them, I’ll order your head to be chopped off.”

The poor young slave merely dropped his head in agreement, and set off to find those unheard-of pearls, the size of walnuts and with a moonglow inside them.

He wandered about the land for many a day, he suffered cold and hunger, people laughed at him, and he all but collapsed from weariness. And then, one day, he came to the river on the bank of which squatted an old man in a green robe, with a long green beard and a green staff in his hand.

The young man bowed to him and asked:

“Can you tell me where I can find two precious pearls the size of walnuts with a moonglow inside them?”

“You are as trusting as a child, I see,” replied the old man. “I know who sent you and why. Oh well, I’ve got to help you. Stay here on the bank, and wait for me.”

Saying this, the old man in the green robe stepped into the river and vanished from sight. Suddenly the green weeds, floating on the surface of the water, parted and out came the old man. He climbed on to the bank and from the skirt of his robe poured a whole heap of large pearls on to the ground. All of them had a moonglow inside them.

“Take them and return to the Padishah,” said the old man. ‘Only mind you don’t show him all the pearls at once. First give him the two he asked for.”

The young slave thanked the old man from the bottom of his heart and started back for the palace at once.

When the Padishah saw the young slave and the fabulous pearls, he knew that he would have to grant him his life and give him his freedom, which did not suit him at all. And so, being very shrewd and wily, he shouted angrily:

“Aha, I’ve caught you out at last! These two pearls were in my treasure-box and then someone stole them. So now we know who stole them! You’re a thief and a liar, pretending that you got them at the other end of the world!”

“My lord, did you say that you had two such pearls in your treasure-box?” asked the brave young man.

“Yes, two, exactly two such pearls,” replied the Padishah.

At this, the young man undid his bundle and poured out onto the carpet before the Padishah a whole heap of beautiful pearls.

The sight of that wealth so startled the Padishah that he was struck speechless. He did not know what to do next, and so he called his viziers together again and asked their advice.

“Since this slave. managed to find a whole heap of pearls and not just the two I sent him to find, it means that he really intends to marry my daughter. But I don’t want her to marry a slave, and so I’ll have his head chopped off,” the Padishah told them.

The viziers did not know what to advise him and, fearing his anger, they thought it safest to say:

“Oh the greatest of the great! You followed the advice of that oldest and wisest of sages about your young slave, and so he should be sent for this time too.”

Once again the old sage was brought to the palace on a white felt. He heard out the viziers and said:

“A promise must not be broken. The Padishah must keep his word.”

“But he’s my slave, his life is in my hands!” cried the Padishah angrily.

“And your word? You can’t go back on your word,” sald the sage.

“Very well then,” said the Padishah. ‘Let him go to the end of the world, see how the sun and the moon rise, and tell us all about it when he comes back. Only then I shall grant him his life and give him his freedom!”

Poor, poor young slave! Without saying a word, he set off to find the end of the world where the sun and the moon rose.

In the meantime, the Padishah tried his best to find a husband for his conceited daughter.

The young slave wandered for days, weeks, months, climbing over high mountains, all but dying of thirst in the dry deserts, and still plodding on. His sandals were worn out, his clothes torn to shreds, and his staff became as thin as a needle. He walked on in rain and wind, in heat and frost. Hunger drove him to beg for bread. Sometimes, he fell asleep at someone’s gate with no strength to go, and the owners beat him up for a tramp.

At long last he came to a mountain so tall that it reached the sky. He tried to climb it but he could not find a foothold anywhere, for the steep sides were smooth rock. Helplessly, he sat on the ground and gazed in despair at the mountain before him.

Suddenly, a peri in white appeared on the top of the mountain.

“Who are you and what do you seek?” he heard her voice.

“I am the Padishah’s slave,” replied the youth. “Under threat of death the Padishah ordered me to go and see where the sun and moon rise in the sky. And I haven’t even discovered where that place is!”

“Shut your eyes,” the girl told him.

He shut his eyes, and when he opened them in a moment he found himself standing on top of the mountain beside the girl.

“Come, I’ll show you what you want,” the peri told him, and started across a green meadow, covered with beautiful white flowers, and made for some tall trees whose branches drooped to the very ground.

When the youth came nearer to these trees he saw that they were weeping willows growing round a large, still lake. That lake was so lovely that he stood there spellbound, unable to tear his eyes away.

“It’s so wonderful here!” he exclaimed, and went down to the water.

“The sun and the moon bathe in this lake,” the fairy-girl told him. “This lake does magic things. If you bathe in it right after the moon has taken a dip, you’ll become even more handsome than you are now and the Padishah’s daughter will gladly marry you.”

“But I don’t want to marry the Padishah’s daughter!” said the youth. “Would I have come all this way just for that?”

“Then wait until after the sun has had its swim. If you enter the water just after, you’ll feel enormous strength flowing into your body,” the fairy-girl told him, and disappeared.

The youth was very thirsty, but he stood on the shore and did not touch the water. He very much wanted to refresh his weary body in the lovely lake, but he waited patiently for the moon or the sun to bathe in it first.

The day waned, and dusk gathered quickly. Golden sunlight gave way to a silvery mist. And then darkness fell all at once, and the mountain trembled. Something very large and heavy rolled into the water, causing a wave to dash against the shore. In the next moment, a round, shining moon emerged from the lake, soared up, and sailed across the sky. And in the moonlight everything turned silver and began to shine and sparkle.

All night long the youth sat on the shore of the lovely lake, gazing at the beauty that surrounded him.

Little by little the moon lost its sparkle and melted away, the sky turned a pale grey, and suddenly the mountain trembled again, and something very large and heavy rolled into the lake. And in the next moment he saw the radiant, brilliant sun rise from the water higher and higher into the sky, and in the dazzling light it shed down on earth everything glowed with light and warmth.

Thus the brave youth saw how the sun rose. Happily, he threw off his rags, drank his fill of water and bathed in the lake. And instantly he felt his strength increasing tenfold. As he climbed on to the shore he clutched at a branch of a weeping willow, pulling down the whole tree, and as the roots were bared he saw between them a round shield, a sharp sword, a tall helmet and clothes worthy of a knight. And then he saw a beautiful horse with strong, slender legs standing there ready for him to mount.

Quickly, he put on the fine clothes, leapt into the saddle and rode off to look for the peri. He found her where he saw her for the first time, and thanked her for everything.

“But I only helped you to rise to the top of the mountain,” she said. “The rest you did yourself. You yourself found. the place where the sun and the moon rise. And you saw them rise. You bathed in the lake after the sun. You drank the water of life and joy and your strength increased tenfold. Only mind that your strength does not do people harm.”

“I promise I shall be kind to people,” the youth cried.

“But first I’ve got to settle up with my master, the Padishah, and obtain my freedom.”

And he went back to the Padishah whose slave he had been for so many years. On the way back he performed many feats, and his fame ran ahead of him.

In the meantime the Padishah had still been trying to find a husband for his daughter.

When he heard that a strange young knight had come to his city, he ordered him brought into his presence at once.

“Quickly, bring the visitor to my palace!” he ordered his servants. “And tell the young Princess. Maybe she’ll agree to marry him, because we’ve quite run out of suitors.”

The Princess peeped through the curtains at the newcomer, and whispered to her father:

“I’ll marry him. He’s the strongest and most handsome man in the world!”

The Padishah was overjoyed that at long last a worthy suitor had been found. He ordered the finest delicacies and wines to be served, seated the guest in the place of honour, and asked him to relate where he had been in the world and what he had seen.

“I travelled to the place where the sun and the moon rise,” replied the guest. “I saw the moon and the sun bathing in a mountain lake. I, too, bathed in that lake and it gave me the fabulous strength of a powerful knight.”

The Padishah knew then that his grand visitor was, in fact, his slave. But he did not let on that he had recognised him. To himself he was saying: “If he marries my daughter hell go on serving me as my son-in-law. As a warrior he’ll win glory for me and multiply my wealth.”

Now, the visitor said in conclusion of his story:

“Well, I’ve done everything I was ordered to do, and now I want to receive what was promised me. Do you remember your promise, Padishah?”

“Marry my daughter, and I’ll give you your freedom,” the Padishah told him.

But the young slave said:

“Then you don’t rightly know what freedom means if you want to give it to me in addition to your conceited daughter. When I wore the rags of a slave I did not seem a human being to you and your daughter!”

Enraged, the Padishah ordered his servants to seize the impudent slave, but he flung them off easily with his mighty strength and bared his sword… And the Padishah, being a cowardly, spiteful soul, scampered away in terror, like a rabbit from a great lion. The former slave left the Padishah’s palace forever, and as a free man rode off on his horse. He knew what he must do now: a man who was brave, strong and free must protect the weak from the strong, he must fight evil for the triumph of good on earth.

Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page