Work Text:
Sometime in the early 1900s, after the fall of the Joseon Dynasty, when Emperor Gojong ruled over the Korean Empire, there was an old merchant named Ye-Jun, returning back from a long journey on his horse. As the moon fell upon the sky, the soft glow illuminating his route, he found himself winding through a thick patch of forest. A great chill enveloped his body and caused him to shudder, pulling the furs around his shoulders a bit tighter as he rode. He thought of his four children.
Following their mother Seo-Yeon’s death three years ago, he had made special time to take a break from his merchanting business to take care of his children, especially the youngest daughter, Myeong-Suk, who was only sixteen at the time. Myeong-Suk had two older sisters, Chae-Won and Ji-Eun, respectively two and four years older than her. There was also one son, Byeong-Ho, one year older than the eldest sister, who had taken over the household over the last year, following his father’s 50th birthday.
Since then, the merchant had decided to make a return to his work, seeing as how the money in the family savings was starting to dwindle. It had been almost a year since he had left the home, during the summer, and now it was the depth of winter. He was very exhausted from the cold and wished to rest, but he was only a few leagues away from home now. He had resolved to go on despite this, but as the snow fell longer, and his horse slipped on a patch of sleet, he realized that it would be impossible to go further.
Stepping off his horse, he heard the howls of wolves echoing through the forest. He scanned the road he was upon, only to realize that the snow had covered up almost every path in his sight, and that he was truly lost. He left the horse where it was, taking a few careful steps in the direction of a strange gleam of light.
The horse attempted to trot behind him, but seeing how rough and slippery the road was, causing the merchant to fall down more than once, it decided to stay behind. Ye-Jun continued forward, eyes widening as he found himself in an avenue of orange trees, filled with flowers and fruit, untouched by the snow.
As he walked through the orchard, he found himself facing a set of elegant stone steps, leading up into a magnificent palace. He went upstairs and inside passed through several splendidly furnished rooms. There was a pleasant warmth in the air which brought life back into his weary soul, and he was starting to feel a bit hungry; but there seemed to be nobody between the vastness of these walls. Deep silence reigned everywhere, and at last, tired as he was of roaming through empty rooms, he stopped in one where a fire was burning, an elegant blue couch drawn up cosily before it. He sat down for a bit to bask in the warmth, and soon fell into a very sweet sleep.
After several hours, his hunger got extreme enough to awake him from his slumber. He found he was still alone, but a small table with a good dinner on it had been drawn up close to where he was resting. Ye-Jun lost no time in beginning his meal, hoping he might soon thank his considerate host, whoever it might be. But no one appeared, and even after another long sleep, from which he awoke completely refreshed, there was no sign of anybody, though a fresh meal of dainty rice-cakes (songpyeon ) and fruit was prepared upon the little table at his elbow.
After eating some of the songpyeon, he decided to once again look for a sign of life in the palace. To no avail, he could not find even the sound of breath to break the silence. So he ventured outside, down into the garden, and though it was winter everywhere else, here the sun shone, the birds sang, the flowers bloomed, and the air was soft and sweet.
He returned for his horse at this time, settling the mare into the stables and feeding it. “These blessings must be for me,” Ye-Jun thought, “I will return home and bring my children to share in all these delights.” After saddling the horse for the homeward journey, he turned down the path that led to the stable.
The path had a hedge of mugunghwa (hibiscus) flowers on each side of it, and Ye-Jun thought he had never seen such beautiful flowers before. The Korean rose, a rarity, a treasure, and what his beloved youngest daughter Myeong-Suk had asked for.
Whereas her two sisters had asked for new hanboks and jewelry, and their brother a new gakgung (bow), Myeong-Suk had simply asked for a single mugunghwa flower.
Ye-Jun stopped to pick a flower for Myeong-Suk, and had just gathered one to take to her, when he was startled by a strange growl behind him. Turning around, he saw a frightful Tiger-Beast, dressed in elegant blue robes, who seemed to be very angry.
A booming voice graced the land. “Who told you that you may take my mugunghwa ? Was it not enough that I sheltered you in my palace and granted you kindness? I am Jeon-Seo Lee, Daegun (Grand Prince) of the Joseon Dynasty! Is this how you show gratitude to me, by stealing my flowers? Your insolence shall not go unpunished.”
Ye-Jun, terrified by these furious words, dropped the fatal flower and, throwing himself on his knees into a heavy bow, cried, “Pardon me, Daegam (Your Excellency). I am truly grateful for your hospitality, which was so magnificent I could not imagine you would be offended by my taking such a little thing as a mugunghwa flower.”
But the Tiger-Beast’s anger was not lessened by his speech. “You are very ready with excuses and flattery,” he said. “But that will not save you from the death you deserve.”
Alas, thought Ye-Jun, if only my daughter Myeong-Suk could know into what danger her flower has brought me! And in despair, he began to tell the Tiger-Beast all his misfortunes and the reason for his journey, not forgetting to mention Myeong-Suk’s request.
“A king’s ransom would hardly have procured all that my other daughters asked for,” he said. “But I thought I might at least take Myeong-Suk her mugunghwa . I beg you to forgive me, Daegam, for you see I meant no harm.”
The Tiger-Beast thought for a few moments, and then replied, in a less furious tone, “I will forgive you on one condition—that you will give me one of your daughters.”
“Ah,” cried Ye-Jun, “if I were cruel enough to buy my own life at the expense of one of my children, what excuse could I invent to bring her here?”
“None,” answered the Tiger-Beast. “If she comes at all, she must come willingly. On no other condition will I have her. See if any one of them is courageous enough and loves you enough to come and save your life. You seem to be an honest man, so I will trust you to go home. I give you a month to see if any of your daughters will come back with you and stay here, to let you go free. If none of them is willing, you must come alone, after bidding them goodbye forever, for then you will belong to me. And do not imagine that you can hide from me, for if you fail to keep your word, I will come and fetch you!” added the Tiger-Beast grimly.
The merchant accepted this proposal though he did not really think that any of his daughters would be persuaded to come. He promised to return at the time appointed, and then, anxious to escape from the presence of the Tiger-Beast, he asked permission to set off at once. But the Tiger-Beast answered that he could not go until the next day.
“Then you will find a horse ready for you,” he said. “Now go and eat your supper and await my orders.”
The poor merchant, more dead than alive, went back to his room, where the most delicious supper was already served on the little table drawn up before a blazing fire. But he was too terrified to eat and only tasted a few of the dishes, for fear the Tiger-Beast should be angry if he did not obey his orders. When he had finished, he heard a great noise in the next room, which he knew meant that the Tiger-Beast was coming. As Ye-Jun could do nothing to escape his visit, the only thing that remained was to seem as little afraid as possible; so when the Daegun appeared and asked roughly if he had supped well, the merchant answered humbly that he had, thanks to his host’s kindness. Then the Tiger-Beast warned him to remember their agreement and to prepare his daughter exactly for what she had to expect.
“Do not get up tomorrow,” he added, “until you see the sun and hear a golden bell ring. Then you will find your breakfast waiting for you, and the horse you are to ride will be ready in the courtyard. He will also bring you back again when you come with your daughter a month hence. Farewell. Take a mugunghwa rose to Myeong-Suk, and remember your promise!”
Ye-Jun lay down until the sun rose. Then, after breakfast, he went to gather Myeong-Suk’s flower and mounted his horse, which carried him off so swiftly that in an instant he had lost sight of the palace. He was still wrapped in gloomy thoughts when the horse stopped before the door of his hanok ( cottage).
His son and daughters, who had been uneasy at his long absence, rushed to meet him, eager to know the result of his journey which, seeing him mounted upon a splendid horse and wrapped in a rich mantle, they supposed to be favorable. But he hid the truth from them at first, only saying sadly to Myeong-Suk as he gave her the mugunghwa rose: “Here is what you asked me to bring you. Little you know what it has cost.”
But this excited their curiosity so greatly that presently he told them his adventures from beginning to end, and then they were all very unhappy. The girls lamented loudly over their lost hopes, and his son declared that their father should not return to the terrible castle, and began to make plans for killing the Tiger-Beast if it should come to fetch him. But he reminded them that he had promised to go back. Then the girls were very angry with Myeong-Suk and said it was all her fault. If she had asked for something sensible, this would never have happened.
Poor Myeong-Suk, much distressed, said to them, “I have indeed caused this misfortune, but who could have guessed that to ask for a mugunghwa rose in the middle of summer would cause so much misery? But as I did the mischief, it is only just that I should suffer for it. I will therefore go back with my father to keep his promise.”
At first nobody would hear of it. Her father and brother, who loved her dearly, declared nothing should make them let her go. But Myeong-Suk was firm. As the time drew near, she divided her little possessions between her sisters and said goodbye to everything she loved.
When the fatal day came, she encouraged and cheered her father as they mounted together the horse which had brought him back. It seemed to fly rather than gallop, but so smoothly that Myeong-Suk was not frightened. Indeed, she would have enjoyed the journey, if she had not feared what might happen at the end of it. Her father still tried to persuade her to go back, but in vain.
While they were talking, the night fell. Then, to their great surprise, wonderful colored lights began to shine in all directions, and splendid fireworks blazed out before them; all the forest was illuminated. They even felt pleasantly warm, though it had been bitterly cold before. They reached the avenue of orange trees and saw that the palace was brilliantly lit from roof to ground, and music sounded softly from the courtyard.
“Tiger-Beast Daegam must be very hungry,” said Myeong-Suk, trying to laugh, “if he makes all this rejoicing over the arrival of his prey.” But in spite of her anxiety, she admired all the wonderful things she saw.
When they had dismounted, her father led her to the little room he had been in before. Here they found a splendid fire burning and the table daintily spread with a delicious supper. Ye-Jun knew that this was meant for them, and Myeong-Suk, who was less frightened now that she had passed through so many rooms and seen nothing of the Beast, was quite willing to begin, for her long ride had made her very hungry.
But they had hardly finished their meal, when the noise of the Tiger’s footsteps was heard approaching, and Myeong-Suk clung to her father in terror, which became all the greater when she saw how frightened he was. But when the great Daegun really appeared, although she trembled at the sight of him, she made a great effort to hide her horror and saluted him respectfully.
This evidently pleased the Daegun . After looking at her he said, in a tone that might have struck terror into the boldest heart, though he did not seem to be angry: “Good evening, yeong-gam (old man). Good evening, Myeong-Suk.”
The merchant was too terrified to reply, but Myeong-Suk answered sweetly, “Good evening, Daegam .”
“Have you come willingly?” asked the Tiger. “Will you be content to stay here when your father goes away?”
She answered bravely that she was quite prepared to stay.
“I am pleased with you,” said the Daegun .“As you have come of your own accord, you may remain. As for you, yeong-gam ,” he added, turning to Ye-Jun, “at sunrise tomorrow take your departure. When the bell rings, get up quickly and eat your breakfast, and you will find the same horse waiting to take you home. But remember that you must never expect to see my palace again.”
Then turning to Myeong-Suk, he said, “Take your father into the next room and help him choose gifts for your brother and sisters. You will find two traveling trunks there; fill them as full as you can. It is only just that you should send them something very precious as a remembrance.”
Then he went away, after saying, “Goodbye, Myeong-Suk; goodbye, yeong-gam .” Myeong-Suk was beginning to think with great dismay of her father’s departure, but she was afraid to disobey the Daegun’s orders. They went into the next room, which had shelves and cupboards all round it. They were greatly surprised at the riches it contained.
There were splendid dresses fit for a queen, with all the ornaments to be worn with them, and when Myeong-Suk opened the cupboards, she was dazzled by the gorgeous jewels lying in heaps upon every shelf. After choosing a vast quantity, which she divided between her sisters— for she had made a heap of the wonderful dresses for each of them—she opened the last chest, which was full of gold.
“I think, Appa ( Father),” she said, “that, as the gold will be more useful to you, we had better take out the other things again, and fill the trunks with it.” So they did this, but the more they put in, the more room there seemed to be, and at last they put back all the jewels and dresses they had taken out, and Myeong-Suk even added as many more of the jewels as she could carry at once. Even then the trunks were not too full, but they were so heavy an elephant could not have carried them!
“The Daegun was mocking us!” cried Ye-Jun. “He pretended to give us all these things, knowing that I could not carry them away.”
“Let us wait and see, Appa, ” answered Myeong-Suk. “I cannot believe he meant to deceive us. All we can do is to fasten them up and have them ready.”
So they did this and returned to the little room where, to their astonishment, they found breakfast ready. Ye-Jun ate his with a good appetite, as the Daegun ’s generosity made him believe he might perhaps venture to come back soon and see Myeong-Suk. But she felt sure her father was leaving her forever, so she was very sad when the bell rang sharply for the second time and warned them that the time had come for them to part.
They went down into the courtyard, where two horses were waiting, one loaded with the two trunks, the other for him to ride. They were pawing the ground in their impatience to start, and the Ye-Jun bade Myeong-Suk a hasty farewell. As soon as he was mounted, he went off at such a pace she lost sight of him in an instant.
Then Myeong-Suk began to cry and wandered sadly back to her own room. But she soon found she was very sleepy, and as she had nothing better to do, she lay down and
instantly fell asleep. And then she dreamed she was walking by a brook bordered with trees and lamenting her sad fate, when a young prince, handsomer than anyone she had ever seen, and with a voice that went straight to her heart, came and said to her:
“Ah, Myeong-Suk, you are not so unfortunate as you suppose. Here you will be rewarded for all you have suffered elsewhere. Your every wish shall be gratified. Only try to find me out, no matter how I may be disguised, for I love you dearly, and in making me happy, you will find your own happiness. Be as truehearted as you are beautiful, and we shall have nothing left to wish for.”
“What can I do, Daegun, to make you happy?” said Myeong-Suk.
“Only be grateful,” he answered, “and do not trust too much to your eyes. Above all, do not desert me until you have saved me from my cruel misery.”
Myeong-Suk found her dreams so interesting that she was in no hurry to awake, but presently the clock roused her by calling her name softly twelve times. Then she rose and found her dressing table set out with everything she could possibly want, and when her toilet was finished, she found dinner waiting in the room next to hers. But dinner does not take very long when one is alone, and very soon she sat down cozily in the corner of a sofa and began to think about the charming prince she had seen in her dream.
“He said I could make him happy,” said Myeong-Suk to herself. “It seems, then, that this horrible Tiger-Beast keeps him a prisoner. How can I set him free? I wonder why he told me not to trust in appearances? But after all, it was only a dream, so why should I trouble myself about it? I had better find something to do to amuse myself.”
So she began to explore some of the many rooms of the palace. The first she entered was lined with mirrors. Myeong-Suk saw herself reflected on every side and thought she had never seen such a charming room. Then a bracelet which was hanging from a chandelier caught her eye, and on taking it down, she was greatly surprised to find that it held a portrait of her unknown admirer, just as she had seen him in her dream. With great delight she slipped the bracelet on her arm and went on into a gallery of pictures, where she soon found a portrait of the same handsome prince, as large as life, and so well painted that as she studied it, he seemed to smile kindly at her.
Tearing herself away from the portrait at last, she passed into a room which contained every musical instrument under the sun, and here she amused herself for a long while in trying them and singing until she was tired. The next room was a library, and she saw everything she had ever wanted to read as well as everything she had read. By this time it was growing dusk, and wax candles in diamond and ruby candlesticks lit themselves in every room.
Myeong-Suk found her supper served just at the time she preferred to have it, but she did not see anyone or hear a sound. Though her father had warned her she would be alone, she began to find it rather dull.
Presently she heard the Tiger-Beast coming and wondered tremblingly if he meant to eat her now. However, he did not seem at all ferocious and only said gruffly: “Good evening, Myeong-Suk.”
She answered cheerfully and managed to conceal her terror. The Daegun asked how she had been amusing herself, and she told him all the rooms she had seen. Then he asked if she thought she could be happy in his palace, and Myeong-Suk answered that everything was so beautiful she would be very hard to please if she could not be happy.
After about an hour’s talk, Myeong-Suk began to think the Tiger was not nearly so terrible as she had supposed at first. Then he rose to leave her and said in his gruff voice: “Do you love me, Myeong-Suk? Will you marry me?”
“Oh, what shall I say?” cried Myeong-Suk, for she was afraid to make the Daegun angry by refusing.
“Say yes or no without fear,” he replied.
“Oh, no, Daegam,” said Myeong-Suk hastily.
“Since you will not, good night, Myeong-Suk,” he said.
And she answered, “Good night, Daegam,” very glad to find her refusal had not provoked him. After he was gone, she was very soon in bed and dreaming of her unknown prince. She thought he came and said, “Ah, Myeong-Suk! Why are you so unkind to me? I fear I am fated to be unhappy for many a long days still.”
Then her dreams changed, but the charming prince figured in them all. When morning came, her first thought was to look at the portrait and see if it was really like him, and she found it certainly was.
She decided to amuse herself in the garden, for the sun shone, and all the fountains were playing. She was astonished to find that every place was familiar to her, and presently she came to the very brook and the myrtle trees where she had first met the prince in her dream. That made her think more than ever he must be kept a prisoner by the Tiger-Beast.
When she was tired, she went back to the palace and found a new room full of materials for every kind of work—ribbons to make into bows and silks to work into flowers. There was an aviary full of rare birds, which were so tame they flew to Myeong-Suk as soon as they saw her and perched upon her shoulders and her head.
“Pretty little creatures,” she said, “how I wish your cage was nearer my room that I might often hear you sing!” So saying, she opened a door and found to her delight that it led into her own room, though she had thought it was on the other side of the palace.
There were more birds in a room farther on, parrots and cockatoos that could talk, and they greeted Myeong-Suk by name.
Indeed, she found them so entertaining that she took one or two back to her room, and they talked to her while she was at supper. The Tiger paid her his usual visit and asked the same questions as before, and then with a gruff good night he took his departure, and Myeong-Suk went to bed to dream of her mysterious prince.
The days passed swiftly in different amusements, and after a while Myeong-Suk found another strange thing in the palace, which often pleased her when she was tired of being alone. There was one room which she had not noticed particularly; it was empty, except that under each of the windows stood a very comfortable chair. The first time she had looked out of the window, it seemed a black curtain prevented her from seeing anything outside.
But the second time she went into the room, happening to be tired, she sat down in one of the chairs, when instantly the curtain was rolled aside, and a most amusing pantomime was acted before her. There were dances and colored lights, music and pretty dresses, and it was all so gay that Myeong-Suk was in ecstasies.
After that she tried the other seven windows in turn, and there was some new and surprising entertainment to be seen from each of them, so Myeong-Suk never could feel lonely any more. Every evening after supper, the Daegun came to see her and always before saying good night asked her in his terrible voice: “Myeong-Suk, will you marry me?”
And it seemed to Myeong-Suk, now she understood him better, that when she said, “No, Daegam,” he went away quite sad. Her happy dreams of the handsome young prince soon made her forget the poor Tiger, and the only thing that disturbed her was being told to distrust appearances, to let her heart guide her, and not her eyes. Consider as she would, she could not understand.
So everything went on for a long time, until at last, happy as she was, Myeong-Suk began to long for the sight of her father and her brother and sisters. One night, seeing her look very sad, the Daegun asked her what was the matter. Myeong-Suk had quite ceased to be afraid of him. Now she knew he was really gentle in spite of his ferocious looks and his dreadful voice. So she answered that she wished to see her home once more. Upon hearing this, the Tiger seemed sadly distressed and cried miserably:
“Ah, Myeong-Suk, have you the heart to desert an unhappy Tiger like this? What more do you want to make you happy? Is it because you hate me that you want to escape?”
“No, dear Daegun,” answered Myeong-Suk softly, “I do not hate you, and I should be very sorry never to see you anymore, but I long to see my father again. Only let me go for two months, and I promise to come back to you and stay for the rest of my life.”
The Tiger, who had been sighing dolefully while she spoke, now replied, “I cannot refuse you anything you ask, even though it should cost me my life. Take the four boxes you will find in the room next to your own and fill them with everything you wish to take with you. But remember your promise and come back when the two months are over, or you may have cause to repent it; for if you do not come in good time you will find your faithful Daegun dead. You will not need any chariot to bring you back. Only say goodbye to all your brothers and sisters the night before you come away and, when you have gone to bed, turn this ring round upon your finger, and say firmly, ‘I wish to go back to my palace and see my Daegun again.’ Good night, Myeong-Suk. Fear nothing, sleep peacefully, and before long you shall see your father once more.”
As soon as Myeong-Suk was alone, she hastened to fill the boxes with all the rare and precious things she saw about her, and only when she was tired of heaping things into them did they seem to be full. Then she went to bed but could hardly sleep for joy. When at last she began to dream of her beloved prince, she was grieved to see him stretched upon a grassy bank, sad and weary, and hardly like himself.
“What is the matter?” she cried.
But he looked at her reproachfully and said, “How can you ask me, cruel one? Are you not leaving me to my death perhaps?”
“Ah, don’t be so sorrowful!” cried Myeong-Suk. “I am only going to assure my father that I am safe and happy. I have promised the Tiger faithfully I will come back, and he would die of grief if I did not keep my word!”
“What would that matter to you?” asked the prince. “Surely you would not care?”
“Indeed I should be ungrateful if I did not care for such a kind Tiger,” said Myeong-Suk indignantly. “I would die to save him from pain. I assure you it is not his fault he is so ugly.”
Just then a strange sound woke her—someone was speaking not very far away; and opening her eyes she found herself in a room she had never seen before, which was certainly not as splendid as those she had seen in the Daegun’s palace. Where could she be? She rose and dressed hastily and then saw that the boxes she had packed the night before were all in the room. Suddenly she heard her father’s voice and rushed out to greet him joyfully.
Her brother and sisters were astonished at her appearance, for they had never expected to see her again. There was no end to the questions they asked her. She had also much to hear about what had happened to them while she was away and of her father’s journey home. But when they heard that she had only come to be with them for a short time and then must go back to the Daegun’s palace forever, they lamented loudly. Then Myeong-Suk asked her father what he thought her strange dreams meant and why the prince constantly begged her not to trust to appearances.
After much consideration Ye-Jun answered: “You tell me yourself that the Tiger, frightful as he is, loves you dearly and deserves your love and gratitude for his gentleness and kindness. I think the prince must mean you to understand you ought to reward him by doing as he wishes, in spite of his ugliness.”
Myeong-Suk could not help seeing that this seemed probable; still, when she thought of her dear prince who was so handsome, she did not feel at all inclined to marry the Tiger-Beast. At any rate, for two months she need not decide but could enjoy herself with her sisters.
But though they were rich now and lived in a town again and had plenty of acquaintances, Myeong-Suk found that nothing amused her very much. She often thought of the palace, where she was so happy, especially as at home she never once dreamed of her dear prince, and she felt quite sad without him.
Then her sisters seemed quite used to being without her and even found her rather in the way, so she would not have been sorry when the two months were over, but for her father and brother, who begged her to stay and seemed so grieved at the thought of her departure that she had not the courage to say goodbye to them. Every day when she rose she meant to say it at night, and when night came she put it off again, until at last she had a dismal dream which helped her to make up her mind.
She thought she was wandering in a lonely path in the palace gardens, when she heard groans that seemed to come from some bushes hiding the entrance of a cave. Running quickly to see what could be the matter, she found the Daegun stretched out upon his side, apparently dying.
He reproached her faintly with being the cause of his distress, and at the same moment a voice said very gravely: “Ah, Myeong-Suk, see what happens when people do not keep their promises! If you had delayed one day more, you would have found him dead.”
Myeong-Suk was so terrified by this dream that the next morning she announced her intention of going back at once. That very evening she said goodbye to her father and her brother and sisters, and as soon as she was in bed she turned her ring round upon her finger and said firmly: “I wish to go back to my palace and see my Daegun again.”
Then she fell asleep instantly and only woke up to hear the clock saying, “Myeong-Suk, Myeong-Suk,” twelve times in its musical voice, which told her she was really in the palace once more. Everything was just as before, and her birds were so glad to see her, but Myeong-Suk thought she had never known such a long day. She was so anxious to see the Daegun again that she felt as if suppertime would never come.
But when it came, no Tiger appeared. After listening and waiting for a long time, she ran down into the garden to search for him. Up and down the paths and avenues ran poor Myeong-Suk, calling him. No one answered, and not a trace of him could she find. At last, quite tired, she stopped for a minute’s rest and saw that she was standing opposite the shady path she had seen in her dream. She rushed down it and, sure enough, there was the cave, and in it lay Jeon-Seo Lee—asleep, so Myeong-Suk thought. Quite glad to have found him, she ran up and stroked his head, but to her horror he did not move or open his eyes.
“Oh, he is dead, and it is all my fault!” cried Myeong-Suk, crying bitterly.
But then, looking at him again, she fancied he still breathed. Hastily fetching some water from the nearest fountain, she sprinkled it over his face, and to her great delight he began to revive.
“Oh, Daegam, how you frightened me!” she cried. “I never knew how much I loved you until just now, when I feared I was too late to save your life.”
“Can you really love such an ugly creature as I am?” asked the Tiger faintly. “Ah, Myeong-Suk, you came only just in time. I was dying because I thought you had forgotten your promise. But go back now and rest; I shall see you again by and by.”
Myeong-Suk, who had half expected he would be angry with her, was reassured by his gentle voice and went back to the palace, where supper was awaiting her. And afterward the Daegun came in as usual and talked about the time she had spent with her father, asking if she had enjoyed herself and if they had all been glad to see her.
Myeong-Suk quite enjoyed telling him all that had happened to her. When at last the time came for him to go, he asked, as he had so often asked before:
“Myeong-Suk, will you marry me?”
She answered softly, “Yes, Jeon-Seo Daegam.”
As she spoke a blaze of light sprang up before the windows of the palace; fireworks crackled and guns banged, and across the avenue of orange trees, in letters all made of fireflies, was written: Long live the daegun and his bride.
Turning to ask the Daegun what it could all mean, Myeong-Suk found he had disappeared, and in his place stood her long-loved prince from her dreams!
At the same moment the wheels of a chariot were heard upon the terrace, and two ladies entered the room. Both were splendidly dressed, but one especially so. Her companion said, “Yeowang (Queen), this is Myeong-Suk who has had the courage to rescue your son from the terrible enchantment. They love each other, and only your consent to their marriage is wanting to make them perfectly happy.”
“I consent with all my heart,” said the queen. “How can I ever thank you enough, charming girl, for having restored my dear son to his natural form?” And then she tenderly embraced Myeong-Suk and Jeon-Seo Daegun, who had meanwhile been greeting a fairy and receiving her congratulations.
“Now,” said the fairy to Myeong-Suk, “I suppose you would like me to send for all your brothers and sisters to dance at your wedding?”
And so she did, and the marriage was celebrated the very next day with the utmost splendor, and Myeong-Suk and the Daegun lived happily ever after.