ow day and day night; it was always early morning with soft, cool
breezes, a viewless sun, and a dim light--the reign of day and night
first began in Holy Friday's land. After a long journey, Petru saw
something white appear amid the rosy glow of the sky. The nearer he
approached the more distinctly he saw what was now before his eyes. It
was the fairy-palace. Petru gazed and gazed, then drew a long breath
like a man who says, "Oh, Lord, I thank thee!" But ah, how beautiful
this palace was! Lofty turrets stretching far above the clouds, walls
white as sea-shells, and brighter than the sun at noon-day, a roof of
silver--but what kind of silver? it did not even glitter in the
sun--and the windows were all spun from air and set in frames of dull
gold. Over all these things the merry sunbeams played, as the wind
plays with the shadows of the branches in the spring, when it is so
indolent that it scarcely stirs.

Petru could not stay long, for he was in a hurry; so he dismounted,
let the horses graze on the dewy grass, took his flute, as Holy Friday
had directed, and saying, "God be with me!" commenced his tremendous
task. He had scarcely walked three stones' throws when he saw a giant,
lulled to sleep by the sweet notes of the flute. This was one of the
guardians of the Fairy Aurora's palace. As he lay there on his back
Petru began to measure him by paces. I won't exaggerate, but he was so
big that when Petru had walked from his feet to his head he heaved a
sigh, he did not exactly know whether from fatigue or fear. It would
have been no wonder if he was astounded. The rising moon is not so
large as the giant's eye. And this eye was not even like other
people's, but in the middle of the giant's forehead. Such was the eye!
What could the rest have been! Petru was a brave hero, but he heartily
thanked God, the flute, and Holy Friday, that he had not got into a
fight with this monster of a man, and softly continued his way. The
prince had walked about as far as a man usually goes before he feels
inclined to sit down in the shade, when he encountered still more
terrible foes. Dragons, each with seven heads, were stretched out in
the sun sound asleep, some on his right hand, others on the left. How
these dragons looked I can not describe: nowadays every body knows
that dragons are not things to be trifled with or laughed at. Petru
hurried swiftly past them, but I really don't know whether it was from
haste or fear. And it would