In a peaceful little village where the air was always filled with the sweet scent of flowers, there lived a girl named Melody. She was known far and wide as Melody the Musician. From sunrise to sunset, she could be seen roaming the meadows and woods with her favorite flute, playing enchanting tunes that delighted everyone who heard them.
However, this year a strange sadness had gripped the village. It seemed as if all the songs of the birds had been silenced. The flowers in the gardens drooped, and the once bubbling streams flowed sadly, echoing the gloom that blanketed the land. The villagers whispered of a solemn mystery: “There is no joy anymore. We lack the song of life.”
One day, while wandering through a wooded dell, Melody paused, resting from her wanderings. Suddenly, she heard the sweet murmur of a brook:
“Tune again, tune again, little flute.”
She felt a little thrill of hope. This was the first cheerful thought she had heard for many a day. So she took her flute from her pocket and began to play. With each note, she felt the joy coming back to her heart, and soon all around her the flowers began to bloom.
But then came a sudden sound of fluttering wings and a little bird perched upon her shoulder, crying out:
“Sing away, sing away; Little child, sing away.”
Melody listened and then sang a little song that the poor birds had sung until they lost their strength in their efforts to comfort the people. It was so sweet that all the robins of the neighborhood gathered around her like a chorus.
“Come with us,” cried one bird. “Come and sing to the princess. She is sadder than all the rest, for she has a bad cold, and sulks and sighs the whole day long.”
“But what will good Princess Melodine care for my songs?” asked the child.
“Tell her part of our sorrow,” they replied.
So the little girl, not thinking of herself, hurried off so as to reach the castle before sun-down.
When she arrived below the tall castle walls, a little page appeared from the grated window over her head.
“What do you wish, little maid?” he called.
“Will you be so kind as to tell the princess that I have come to cheer her up with my songs?”
“I am afraid she does not desire to listen to you,” said the little page, who could not remember ever having heard the princess smile.
Then Melody played and sang with all her heart. The page listened, for he could not help it, and so full of joy was the tune that he suddenly exclaimed:
“Stay, dear child; here is something for you.” And throwing down a little purse, he went away to deliver her message.
When she entered the princess’s room a moment later, the first thing Melody saw was the purse shining as the princess had opened it with feverish haste.
“The money is certainly not for me,” thought Melody.
But going up to the sick Princess Melodine, who was three-and-twenty years of age, she kissed her forehead and said:
“I can do you no good by stealing, my sister.”
“Do you know me, then?” said the princess, throwing her arms around her. “Why it is I, Melodine, who used to cry and sing my songs to cheer you! When I came of age my mother took me away from you and built yonder castle—yes, it was for you that the waters of that fountain were blessed.”
The princess was so delighted to see her little sister again that she forgot her cold entirely, and even wished to have some bird’s-nest supper.
“Tell me the secret of the Silence,” Melody asked at the supper-table.
“It is a mean old wizard,” replied Melodine, suddenly becoming grave at the name. “A few years ago he proposed to me. Now, it was not because I disliked him—on the contrary, he is really very good company. But I took a fancy to be married to a brave knight, and of course I could not marry him; so he cast the whole village into sadness. The only way to undo his spell is for me to marry him in his turn.”
“How very stupid to cast such a spell just for that,” said little Melody. “You ought to marry the baker’s daughter or some one. Ah, pardon me; what I do mean to say is that it is not nice of you.”
The Princess Melodine wept bitterly, for, however stupid she may have been in casting the spell, it worried her none the less; but Melody said in a cheerful voice:
“Then let me marry him instead of you.”
“But I dare not ask him, for I am not even of age,” said the princess.
“I will take the responsibility,” replied little Melody.
So she ran after the wizard, the whole way from the castle to the village, a good six miles, which she reached towards sunset. The people were amazed to see how merry little Melody was.
“Well, my little maid,” asked the wizard, who was peeping from under the trees, “what do you want?”
“If you will undo the spell for our proposed marriage, because my sister is too sad about it, I shall be your fiancée instead.”
He hesitated a moment and then, seeing how sprightly she was, agreed to the arrangement.
At once the village rang with joyous music which had been silenced so long. At first the birds, then the flowers, and finally the people of the village, rejoiced in all their former gaiety.
This little wedding was to be a grand affair, and it took place in the woods, which were all wreathed in flowers and joyous lights. Little children and gay birds sang the sweetest songs, and all the village folk were most merry.
But after a while the wizard began to seek for a cause of complaint against the princess, and railed and scolded and became so ugly that even a peasant girl did not choose to remain his wife. So she was able to free the village and all her friends and to rejoice in the music of life forever.