Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a powerful King. His was a land full of riches, but his pride and joy was the brightest jewel of the Crown. For the King had a son, whose good looks and bravery were only matched by his remarkable wits.
And then, the time came for the King to pass on his Crown and Kingdome, and they sent word to the Far Lands for every Princess in the Whole Wide World to come to the Palace for The Greatest Ball of all, where the Prince would chose his bride.
And thousands of Princesses jumped at the chance, as the fame of the Prince had reached very far. Beautiful, smart, educated, rich, all sorts of Princesses passed by in front of the Prince, in their best dresses, the brightest jewels, setting whole countries and their riches at his feet, yet his heart had not skipped a beat.
Night came, and exhausted, The Prince decided to walk out his disappointment along the paths of his palace’ rose garden. For in the old books in the old library he had read about ‘love’: the most noble of all the feelings, something magical he had never known before. And his noble soul was exhilarated that he would find this ‘love’ and make it his own.
And while he was walking along the red-rosed paths, he passed by the kitchens, where a simple, poorly dressed young woman was helping with the dishes And with the night breeze along came a trail of the Prince’s perfume – and the young woman lifted her eyes, in wonder. Her large, brown eyes opened wide, as they met the eyes of the Prince. And right then and there, the prince-heart stopped beating for a while, and the wind stopped blowing, and the stars stopped blinking, for that was a meeting of souls.
About a second or so later, the Prince came to his senses – and even laughed in his mind at the silly feeling that had dared to trouble his inner peace. Surely this ‘love’ business would prove far too troublesome than he had hoped, and such being the case, the Prince pondered whether in wasn’t far better to abandon his plan. As the important business of the Kingdome were at stake, he could not afford to let ‘love’ mess with his head.
And he hurried back to his quarters, hushing his heart away from the sweet memory of a pair of brown eyes that seemed to have stuck in there. He drank some fine wine, and ate some fancy dinner, and had the clowns and the magicians put on their best show to entertain him; read from his books, had his old deuce tell him his favorite bedtime story, had some more wine, and yet the hours of morning caught him wide awake.
The next morning came over him with a cold breeze when he opened his windows. And there, in the shadows of the old oak trees, a dark silhouette made his heart jump with joy, and troubled his mind with the promise of unwelcome distress.
First he jumped right out, and then hesitated. Gathered up all his strengths, pulled his hands into fists and walked right up to her. ‘Back to the kitchen! his common-sense shouted, yet when he finally spoke, his voice was trembling with desire and a soft, dazzling shiver made him all warm inside. And as the sun rose, a pair of young lovers walked deeper into the gardens, overtaken by the rose smell and their own heart-beats.
But as the new day was taking its rightful place, the Prince felt time was not on his side: the Whole World was waiting for him to make up his mind. Trapped between his duty to his country and the call of his own heart, the Prince was dangling in despair. What should he do? How would he know the best course of action?
And the young woman saw the pain he was going through and did not want to be the cause of it. So she told him, “Don’t worry. I’ll be here tomorrow night, and the night after tomorrow. You do what’s best for the Kingdome, I’ll always be here for you.”
“Listen, answered the Prince, thinking he saw some vague promise of light at the end of his troubles. If you wait for me here, in the garden, every day and every night for a 100 nights and days in a row, I’ll chose you as my bride.”
And so the days and the nights passed by, and the young woman hadn’t move an inch from her bench in the garden, overlooking the Prince’s window. Every now and then, he checked to see if she was still there; had her love for him fated away? Had her determination died out? Rain came down on her, and cold nights tried to frighten her away, but there she stood, firm in her belief, unshaken.
90 days and nights later, she was but a sheer trace of the beautiful, healthy young-woman she used to be. So many un-slept nights, the lack of food, and water, and the cold and the winds had taken a heavy tow over her body. Like a leaf the wind blew her around, but she gathered all her will to stand her ground. And the Prince watched from his window, amazed by her determination, wishing he could find that sort of sureness in his heart.
And the 99th night came, and the Prince spent it at his window, still wondering, still not quite sure what to do, what he wanted, looking at the now skinny, ill-looking woman shaking out in the cold; half impressed, half bemused by her stubbornness. She was hardly any prize at all, in her cheap cloths, over her bony, fragile, pale body, with her once bright brown eyes half closed – hardly a match to any of the rich, beautiful Princesses awaiting for him in the Throne Hall. Surely, she was no Queen material.
And as he was lost in his thoughts, with the first light of the 100th day, his eyes caught some surprising movement in the garden. Trembling with all her joints, the woman rose for the first time in almost 100 nights and days, and looked up at the Prince, tears wearing down her face, clouding up her eyes. He rushed to open his window and as he looked down, their eyes met once more. Only this time, not a single star moved in the sky.
And as the Prince stared in disbelief, the young woman turned around and walked away.
After a story in the Cinema Paradiso, a film by Giuseppe Tornatore
And then, the time came for the King to pass on his Crown and Kingdome, and they sent word to the Far Lands for every Princess in the Whole Wide World to come to the Palace for The Greatest Ball of all, where the Prince would chose his bride.
And thousands of Princesses jumped at the chance, as the fame of the Prince had reached very far. Beautiful, smart, educated, rich, all sorts of Princesses passed by in front of the Prince, in their best dresses, the brightest jewels, setting whole countries and their riches at his feet, yet his heart had not skipped a beat.
Night came, and exhausted, The Prince decided to walk out his disappointment along the paths of his palace’ rose garden. For in the old books in the old library he had read about ‘love’: the most noble of all the feelings, something magical he had never known before. And his noble soul was exhilarated that he would find this ‘love’ and make it his own.
And while he was walking along the red-rosed paths, he passed by the kitchens, where a simple, poorly dressed young woman was helping with the dishes And with the night breeze along came a trail of the Prince’s perfume – and the young woman lifted her eyes, in wonder. Her large, brown eyes opened wide, as they met the eyes of the Prince. And right then and there, the prince-heart stopped beating for a while, and the wind stopped blowing, and the stars stopped blinking, for that was a meeting of souls.
About a second or so later, the Prince came to his senses – and even laughed in his mind at the silly feeling that had dared to trouble his inner peace. Surely this ‘love’ business would prove far too troublesome than he had hoped, and such being the case, the Prince pondered whether in wasn’t far better to abandon his plan. As the important business of the Kingdome were at stake, he could not afford to let ‘love’ mess with his head.
And he hurried back to his quarters, hushing his heart away from the sweet memory of a pair of brown eyes that seemed to have stuck in there. He drank some fine wine, and ate some fancy dinner, and had the clowns and the magicians put on their best show to entertain him; read from his books, had his old deuce tell him his favorite bedtime story, had some more wine, and yet the hours of morning caught him wide awake.
The next morning came over him with a cold breeze when he opened his windows. And there, in the shadows of the old oak trees, a dark silhouette made his heart jump with joy, and troubled his mind with the promise of unwelcome distress.
First he jumped right out, and then hesitated. Gathered up all his strengths, pulled his hands into fists and walked right up to her. ‘Back to the kitchen! his common-sense shouted, yet when he finally spoke, his voice was trembling with desire and a soft, dazzling shiver made him all warm inside. And as the sun rose, a pair of young lovers walked deeper into the gardens, overtaken by the rose smell and their own heart-beats.
But as the new day was taking its rightful place, the Prince felt time was not on his side: the Whole World was waiting for him to make up his mind. Trapped between his duty to his country and the call of his own heart, the Prince was dangling in despair. What should he do? How would he know the best course of action?
And the young woman saw the pain he was going through and did not want to be the cause of it. So she told him, “Don’t worry. I’ll be here tomorrow night, and the night after tomorrow. You do what’s best for the Kingdome, I’ll always be here for you.”
“Listen, answered the Prince, thinking he saw some vague promise of light at the end of his troubles. If you wait for me here, in the garden, every day and every night for a 100 nights and days in a row, I’ll chose you as my bride.”
And so the days and the nights passed by, and the young woman hadn’t move an inch from her bench in the garden, overlooking the Prince’s window. Every now and then, he checked to see if she was still there; had her love for him fated away? Had her determination died out? Rain came down on her, and cold nights tried to frighten her away, but there she stood, firm in her belief, unshaken.
90 days and nights later, she was but a sheer trace of the beautiful, healthy young-woman she used to be. So many un-slept nights, the lack of food, and water, and the cold and the winds had taken a heavy tow over her body. Like a leaf the wind blew her around, but she gathered all her will to stand her ground. And the Prince watched from his window, amazed by her determination, wishing he could find that sort of sureness in his heart.
And the 99th night came, and the Prince spent it at his window, still wondering, still not quite sure what to do, what he wanted, looking at the now skinny, ill-looking woman shaking out in the cold; half impressed, half bemused by her stubbornness. She was hardly any prize at all, in her cheap cloths, over her bony, fragile, pale body, with her once bright brown eyes half closed – hardly a match to any of the rich, beautiful Princesses awaiting for him in the Throne Hall. Surely, she was no Queen material.
And as he was lost in his thoughts, with the first light of the 100th day, his eyes caught some surprising movement in the garden. Trembling with all her joints, the woman rose for the first time in almost 100 nights and days, and looked up at the Prince, tears wearing down her face, clouding up her eyes. He rushed to open his window and as he looked down, their eyes met once more. Only this time, not a single star moved in the sky.
And as the Prince stared in disbelief, the young woman turned around and walked away.
After a story in the Cinema Paradiso, a film by Giuseppe Tornatore