The Tale of Two Princes

I’ll tell you a tale of two brothers you see,

Both unique in each his own way.

One heaven’s angel, one devil’s demon,

A price they both did pay.

A long time ago in a far away land

There was a just and elderly king.

He ruled fair and wise and was loved by all,

His praises the people did sing.

The king had two sons and princes they were,

Both in their twenties I’m sure.

Raised in a palace of wealth and power,

They couldn’t have asked for more.

Prince Lucien was the king’s eldest son,

Strong, handsome, and tall.

With dark black hair and fair light skin,

His looks would charm the maidens all.

Although his looks were swooned upon,

They were his only grace.

For Lucien had no heart, you see;

Hatred had taken its place.

Prince Jacob was the youngest son,

He was short, awkward, and thin.

His dark brown hair fell over his eyes;

He was laughed at by most men.

But Jacob had a wonderful gift.

His heart was made of gold.

And he helped as many as he could,

The young, the meek, and the old.

The king was quickly growing ill,

And tired most of his days.

He summoned the two princes home,

The sons he both did raise.

A message was sent up to the north,

In the mountains where Lucien did dwell.

With his selfish heart and soul,

He took the message well.

A message was sent across the south,

To a castle on the sea.

There Jacob lived and ruled his land

In perfect harmony.

Poor Jacob feared for his father’s life

And knew the end was near.

He started on his journey back,

To mourn a death, he feared.

Both brothers traveled far and wide,

To answer their father’s call.

For one of them would rule the land

When their father king should fall.

Prince Lucien crossed the kingdom bridge,

On horseback, proud and vain.

There was an elder fisherman,

Who called out with a strain.

“Young man I could really use some help,

To pull in my net of fish.

The current here is much too strong.

Your strength is all I wish!”

Lucien gave a hearty laugh,

And across the bridge he flew.

“Old man, that is a messy job,

For only the poor to do.”

Prince Jacob later crossed the bridge,

Walking with his mare.

He saw the elder fisherman,

Alone with graying hair.

The fisherman sat on the shore,

With tears stained down his face.

“Are you alright?” asked Jacob,

Walking to him at a pace.

“Young man, you see I lost my catch,

I couldn’t pull it in.

For I am just a feeble man,

Who’s old and weak and thin.

Another man passed earlier,

His hair as black as night.

I asked him for a helping hand,

But he ignored my plight.”

“Good sir, I am but just a boy,

Weaker than most men.

But I will gladly cast with you

And help you bring fish in.”

So Jacob tied his mare aside,

And stood upon the shore,

To help the elder fisherman

Was his primary chore.

Lucien continued towards the town,

When along the road he found

A farmer sitting on a stump,

His covered wagon down.

“Sir, could you help me lift my cart,

My wheel has struck a rock.

I need to get to market soon

To sell my harvest crop.”

Lucien rode up to the man

And stared him in the eyes.

The farmer fell onto the ground

And gave a frightful cry.

“You see old man, I am a prince;

Lucien is my name.

How dare you beg me for your help!

This is no joke or game.

Now let me go on my way,

And ask for me no more.

For when I’m king of all the lands,

It is I you shall adore.”

The farmer lay there on the ground

And cried and hid his face.

For begging forgiveness from the prince,

Seemed to be an utter disgrace.

Jacob strolled along the road

And came across the man

With sweat and dirt upon his brow

And blood stains on his hands.

“Pardon me, are you all right?”

Jacob ran to aid.

“Please sit down; don’t hurt yourself.”

He tied his mare and stayed.

Jacob helped the farmer sit

And asked him what was wrong.

“I have to sell my crops, you see,

And the journey’s very long.

I’m on my way to the marketplace,

And my wheel struck a stone.

I tried lifting my wagon up,

But I can’t do it alone.”

Jacob said, “Now don’t you fret,

For we shall work together.

With two of us, we’ll get it up,

It’ll be light as a feather.”

So Jacob and the farmer,

Pulled and lifted with their might.

They turned the wagon right-side up

And fixed the wheel on tight.

“However can I repay you

For your gracious aid?”

Jacob replied with a smile,

“Your friendship is a worthy trade.”

He helped the farmer to his wagon

And got back on his mare.

The two continued down the road,

The journey they did share.

As Lucien trotted along the road,

He finally reached the gate.

And through the town and marketplace,

He dreamed his royal fate.

While riding through the marketplace,

He came across a maid.

Her hair a golden ray of sun,

All tangled in a braid.

She carried water in a vase,

Heavy in her hands.

Prince Lucien thought she was

The fairest maiden in the land.

“Beautiful lady,” Lucien said,

While sliding off his horse.

For he was too distracted now,

To continue on his course.

“What must I do to have a kiss,

For your lips are divine.

I want to hold you in my arms,

I want you to be mine.”

The maiden continued on her way,

With heavy vase in hand.

“Who are you to hassle me,

You filthy, prideful man?”

“I am Prince Lucien of this land!”

He yelled into her face.

The crowd closed in to see what’s wrong.

The maiden looked disgraced.

“How dare you deny my advance,

You lonely peasant thing!

For I can do what I want and please;

I am your future king!”

He ripped the vase from her hands

And with anger in his eyes

He smashed it at the maiden’s feet.

She ran off in surprise.

The people stared in fear and hate

As Lucien crossed the square.

They wished and prayed with all their might

That he was no king’s heir.

Prince Jacob and the farmer

Arrived shortly after a while.

They saw the peasants’ frightened looks,

The square had not one smile.

Jacob saw the broken vase,

Lying on the ground.

Water was spilled all over,

Its owner nowhere to be found.

He found another near the well,

And filled it to the brim.

As Jacob looked across the square,

A maiden stared at him.

“Thank you, you are very kind,

For filling up my vase.

Who are you, gentle traveler?

What name goes with your face?”

“I am Prince Jacob,” he replied,

With a handshake and a smile.

“My father is growing very ill.

I’m visiting for a while.”

The maiden curtsied in the square,

And soon the others knew

That the traveling man who helped the others

Was there to help them too.

“My name is Emma,” she replied.

“I’m glad to see you here.

Your brother passed through earlier,

He caused me grief and fear.

He smashed my vase upon the ground,

And shamed me in the square.

I know you would have calmed him down,

If you would have been there.”

The farmer said, “He kicked at me,

When I asked him for his aid.

But thanks to you and your good heart,

My crops have all been paid.”

The fisherman approached the prince,

“You are a generous man.

For you have helped us all today,

We’ll one day lend a hand.”

Prince Jacob looked around the people,

As applause filled the air.

The people of the kingdom hoped,

That he would be the heir.