The Tale of King Arthur

In days gone by, it was said that the great King Arthur, who had accomplished so many extraordinary feats, his queen Guinevere, his lords, court ladies, knights, and dogs had not died but had fallen asleep in a cave beneath a high mountain. It was also said that they were destined to awaken only if someone found the way to this hidden cave, entered it, blew the large hunting horn lying on a great stone table, and then cut the belt that lay there with a stone sword.

No one knew the location of this cave, and no one had seen its entrance. But one day, about a hundred years ago, a farmer was sitting in the ruins of an old castle where, according to ancient legend, King Arthur had lived. The farmer was knitting a fishing net. Suddenly, he dropped a ball of rope, which rolled away down the stones among the heather and nettles and disappeared from sight. The farmer thought it had fallen into some crevice, so he pushed aside the heather bushes where the ball had vanished and saw a narrow door leading to an underground passage.

Curiosity compelled him to follow the ball. The farmer found himself in a vaulted gallery and began to walk along it. He stumbled frequently. Nimble lizards scurried away from under his feet. The dark wings of bats brushed against his head. Finally, with a pounding heart, he noticed the flicker of a distant flame. As the farmer walked, the light in the gallery grew brighter and brighter, until he saw a vast hall with stone vaults. In a recess at the center of the hall, a bright fire burned, though there was no fuel in the hearth. The light illuminated the beautiful walls of the hall, entirely covered with carved stone decorations. At the far end, on a throne, sat the king and queen, fast asleep, leaning on their hands. They were surrounded by court ladies and knights. Dogs slept on the floor. On the table lay a hunting horn, a stone sword, and a belt.

The farmer grew frightened. He forgot what he was supposed to do and reverently took the ancient sword from the table. He drew it from its dusty old scabbard and, with a sinking heart, saw that the eyes of the king and all the courtiers began to slowly open. When the blade was fully unsheathed, the sleepers straightened up. The farmer swung the sword and cut the belt, then slowly returned the sword to its scabbard.

At that moment, the enchantment began to reclaim King Arthur's entourage. The momentarily revived faces grew pale, their gleaming eyes dimmed, and their eyelids closed. All fell asleep once more. Only the king opened his sad eyes slightly, stretched out his hands, and spoke mournfully:

"Alas, alas! This fool drew the sword, cut the belt, but forgot the most important thing—to blow the horn."

Having said this, the king leaned back on his throne and fell into an enchanted sleep forever.

The farmer felt unimaginable terror. He bolted down the long gallery and, when he emerged into the daylight, could not tell whether it had all been real or a terrible dream.

He returned home, regretting that he had failed to awaken the great king and his court. That night, he had a dream: King Arthur, as if alive, stood before him with closed eyes and, stretching out his hands, beckoned him with gestures. This dream repeated every night. The farmer grew utterly exhausted, losing weight and turning pale. Finally, he told his neighbors what had happened and, with two friends, went to search for the cave's entrance. But no matter how they searched, they could not find the door to the underground gallery. Then the farmer went to a priest and confessed everything. The priest advised him to hold a requiem mass at the place where he had seen the entrance.

"My son," said the priest, "you could not restore life to the great King Arthur, his wife, and his companions not for lack of desire but simply because you forgot what needed to be done. Now, it is likely that no one will ever be able to revive these famous heroes. Pray, then, that the Lord grants peace to their souls, and peace will return to you."

And so it was done. The priest held the requiem mass, and the farmer fervently prayed for the souls of those who slept the enchanted sleep.

From that time on, the terrible dreams ceased, and the farmer lived happily once more.

↑ To the top

The Tale of King Arthur

More fairy tales