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Brothers Grimm
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Brothers Grimm
German folklorists and linguists
German Brüder Grimm
Main
German brothers famous for their classic collections of folk songs and
folktales. Jacob Ludwig Carl Grimm (b. Jan. 4, 1785, Hanau, Hesse-Kassel
[Germany]—d. Sept. 20, 1863, Berlin) and Wilhelm Carl Grimm (b. Feb. 24,
1786, Hanau, Hesse-Kassel [Germany]—d. Dec. 16, 1859, Berlin) were best
known for Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812–22; also called Grimm’s Fairy
Tales), which led to the birth of the science of folklore. Jacob
especially did important work in historical linguistics and Germanic
philology.
Beginnings and Kassel period
Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm were the oldest in a family of five brothers and
one sister. Their father, Philipp Wilhelm, a lawyer, was town clerk in
Hanau and later justiciary in Steinau, another small Hessian town, where
his father and grandfather had been ministers of the Calvinistic
Reformed Church. The father’s death in 1796 brought social hardships to
the family; the death of the mother in 1808 left 23-year-old Jacob with
the responsibility of four brothers and one sister. Jacob, a scholarly
type, was small and slender with sharply cut features, while Wilhelm was
taller, had a softer face, and was sociable and fond of all the arts.
After attending the high school in Kassel, the brothers followed
their father’s footsteps and studied law at the University of Marburg
(1802–06) with the intention of entering civil service. At Marburg they
came under the influence of Clemens Brentano, who awakened in both a
love of folk poetry, and Friedrich Karl von Savigny, cofounder of the
historical school of jurisprudence, who taught them a method of
antiquarian investigation that formed the real basis of all their later
work. Others, too, strongly influenced the Grimms, particularly the
philosopher Johann Gottfried Herder (1744–1803), with his ideas on folk
poetry. Essentially, they remained individuals, creating their work
according to their own principles.
In 1805 Jacob accompanied Savigny to Paris to do research on legal
manuscripts of the Middle Ages; the following year he became secretary
to the war office in Kassel. Because of his health, Wilhelm remained
without regular employment until 1814. After the French entered in 1806,
Jacob became private librarian to King Jérôme of Westphalia in 1808 and
a year later auditeur of the Conseil d’État but returned to Hessian
service in 1813 after Napoleon’s defeat. As secretary to the legation,
he went twice to Paris (1814–15), to recover precious books and
paintings taken by the French from Hesse and Prussia. He also took part
in the Congress of Vienna (September 1814–June 1815). Meantime, Wilhelm
had become secretary at the Elector’s library in Kassel (1814), and
Jacob joined him there in 1816.
By that time the brothers had definitely given up thoughts of a legal
career in favour of purely literary research. In the years to follow
they lived frugally and worked steadily, laying the foundations for
their lifelong interests. Their whole thinking was rooted in the social
and political changes of their time and the challenge these changes
held. Jacob and Wilhelm had nothing in common with the fashionable
“Gothic” Romanticism of the 18th and 19th centuries. Their state of mind
made them more Realists than Romantics. They investigated the distant
past and saw in antiquity the foundation of all social institutions of
their days. But their efforts to preserve these foundations did not mean
that they wanted to return to the past. From the beginning, the Grimms
sought to include material from beyond their own frontiers—from the
literary traditions of Scandinavia, Spain, The Netherlands, Ireland,
Scotland, England, Serbia, and Finland.
They first collected folk songs and tales for their friends Achim von
Arnim and Brentano, who had collaborated on an influential collection of
folk lyrics in 1805, and the brothers examined in some critical essays
the essential difference between folk literature and other writing. To
them, folk poetry was the only true poetry, expressing the eternal joys
and sorrows, the hopes and fears of mankind.
Encouraged by Arnim, they published their collected tales as the
Kinder- und Hausmärchen, implying in the title that the stories were
meant for adults and children alike. In contrast to the extravagant
fantasy of the Romantic school’s poetical fairy tales, the 200 stories
of this collection (mostly taken from oral sources, though a few were
from printed sources) aimed at conveying the soul, imagination, and
beliefs of people through the centuries—or at a genuine reproduction of
the teller’s words and ways. The great merit of Wilhelm Grimm is that he
gave the fairy tales a readable form without changing their folkloric
character. The results were threefold: the collection enjoyed wide
distribution in Germany and eventually in all parts of the globe (there
are now translations in 70 languages); it became and remains a model for
the collecting of folktales everywhere; and the Grimms’ notes to the
tales, along with other investigations, formed the basis for the science
of the folk narrative and even of folklore. To this day the tales remain
the earliest “scientific” collection of folktales.
The Kinder- und Hausmärchen was followed by a collection of
historical and local legends of Germany, Deutsche Sagen (1816–18), which
never gained wide popular appeal, though it influenced both literature
and the study of the folk narrative. The brothers then published (in
1826) a translation of Thomas Crofton Croker’s Fairy Legends and
Traditions of the South of Ireland, prefacing the edition with a lengthy
introduction of their own on fairy lore. At the same time, the Grimms
gave their attention to the written documents of early literature,
bringing out new editions of ancient texts, from both the Germanic and
other languages. Wilhelm’s outstanding contribution was Die deutsche
Heldensage (“The German Heroic Tale”), a collection of themes and names
from heroic legends mentioned in literature and art from the 6th to the
16th centuries, together with essays on the art of the saga.
While collaborating on these subjects for two decades (1806–26),
Jacob also turned to the study of philology with an extensive work on
grammar, the Deutsche Grammatik (1819–37). The word deutsch in the title
does not mean strictly “German,” but it rather refers to the
etymological meaning of “common,” thus being used to apply to all of the
Germanic languages, the historical development of which is traced for
the first time. He represented the natural laws of sound change (both
vowels and consonants) in various languages and thus created bases for a
method of scientific etymology; i.e., research into relationships
between languages and development of meaning. In what was to become
known as Grimm’s law, Jacob demonstrated the principle of the regularity
of correspondence among consonants in genetically related languages, a
principle previously observed by the Dane Rasmus Rask. Jacob’s work on
grammar exercised an enormous influence on the contemporary study of
linguistics, Germanic, Romance, and Slavic, and it remains of value and
in use even now. In 1824 Jacob Grimm translated a Serbian grammar by his
friend Vuk Stefanović Karadžić, writing an erudite introduction on
Slavic languages and literature.
He extended his investigations into the Germanic folk-culture with a
study of ancient law practices and beliefs published as Deutsche
Rechtsaltertümer (1828), providing systematic source material but
excluding actual laws. The work stimulated other publications in France,
The Netherlands, Russia, and the southern Slavic countries and has not
yet been superseded.
The Göttingen years
The quiet contentment of the years at Kassel ended in 1829, when the
brothers suffered a snub—perhaps motivated politically—from the Elector
of Hessen-Kassel: they were not given advancement following the death of
a senior colleague. Consequently, they moved to the nearby University of
Göttingen, where they were appointed librarians and professors. Jacob
Grimm’s Deutsche Mythologie, written during this period, was to be of
far-reaching influence. From poetry, fairy tales, and folkloristic
elements, he traced the pre-Christian faith and superstitions of the
Germanic people, contrasting the beliefs to those of classical mythology
and Christianity. The Mythologie had many successors all over Europe,
but often disciples were not as careful in their judgments as Jacob had
been. Wilhelm published here his outstanding edition of Freidank’s
epigrams. But again fate overtook them. When Ernest Augustus, duke of
Cumberland, became king of Hanover, he high-handedly repealed the
constitution of 1833, which he considered too liberal. Two weeks after
the King’s declaration, the Grimms, together with five other professors
(the “Göttingen Seven”), sent a protest to the King, explaining that
they felt themselves bound by oath to the old constitution. As a result
they were dismissed, and three professors, including Jacob, were ordered
to leave the kingdom of Hanover at once. Through their part in this
protest directed against despotic authority, they clearly demonstrated
the academic’s sense of civil responsibilities, manifesting their own
liberal convictions at the same time. During three years of exile in
Kassel, institutions in Germany and beyond (Hamburg, Marburg, Rostock,
Weimar, Belgium, France, The Netherlands, and Switzerland) tried to
obtain the brothers’ services.
The Berlin period
In 1840 they accepted an invitation from the king of Prussia, Frederick
William IV, to go to Berlin, where as members of the Royal Academy of
Sciences they lectured at the university. There they began work in
earnest on their most ambitious enterprise, the Deutsches Wörterbuch, a
large German dictionary intended as a guide for the user of the written
and spoken word as well as a scholarly reference work. In the
dictionary, all German words found in the literature of the three
centuries “from Luther to Goethe” were given with their historical
variants, their etymology, and their semantic development; their usage
in specialized and everyday language was illustrated by quoting idioms
and proverbs. Begun as a source of income in 1838 for the brothers after
their dismissal from Göttingen, the work required generations of
successors to bring the gigantic task to an end more than a hundred
years later. Jacob lived to see the work proceed to the letter F, while
Wilhelm finished only the letter D. The dictionary became an example for
similar publications in other countries: Britain, France, The
Netherlands, Sweden, and Switzerland. Jacob’s philological research
later led to a history of the German language, Geschichte der deutschen
Sprache, in which he attempted to combine the historical study of
language with the study of early history. Research into names and
dialects was stimulated by Jacob Grimm’s work, as were ways of writing
and spelling—for example, he used roman type and advocated spelling
German nouns without capital letters.
For some 20 years they worked in Prussia’s capital, respected and
free from financial worries. Much of importance can be found in the
brothers’ lectures and essays, the prefaces and reviews (Kleinere
Schriften) they wrote in this period. In Berlin they witnessed the
Revolution of 1848 and took an active part in the political strife of
the succeeding years. In spite of close and even emotional ties to their
homeland, the Grimms were not nationalists in the narrow sense. They
maintained genuine—even political—friendships with colleagues at home
and abroad, among them the jurists Savigny and Eichhorn; the historians
F.C. Dahlmann, G.G. Gervinus, and Jules Michelet; and the philologists
Karl Lachmann, John Mitchell Kemble, Jan Frans Willems, Vuk Karadžić,
and Pavel Josef Šafařik. Nearly all academies in Europe were proud to
count Jacob and Wilhelm among their members. The more robust Jacob
undertook many journeys for scientific investigations, visiting France,
The Netherlands, Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Denmark, and
Sweden. Jacob remained a bachelor; Wilhelm married Dorothea Wild from
Kassel, with whom he had four children: Jacob (who was born and died in
1826), Herman (literary and art historian, 1828–1901), Rudolf (jurist,
1830–89), and Auguste (1832–1919). The graves of the brothers are in the
Matthäikirchhof in Berlin.
Ludwig Denecke
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Grimms Fairy Tales
Translation by Margaret Hunt
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The Story of a Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was
A certain father had two sons, the elder of whom was smart
and sensible, and could do everything, but the younger was
stupid and could neither learn nor understand anything, and when
people saw him they said 'there's a fellow who will give his
father some trouble.' When anything had to be done, it was
always the elder who was forced to do it, but if his father bade
him fetch anything when it was late, or in the night-time, and
the way led through the churchyard, or any other dismal place,
he answered 'oh, no, father, I'll not go there, it makes me
shudder.' For he was afraid. Or when stories were told by the
fire at night which made the flesh creep, the listeners
sometimes said 'oh, it makes us shudder.' The younger sat in a
corner and listened with the rest of them, and could not imagine
what they could mean. 'They are always saying 'it makes me
shudder, it makes me shudder, it does not make me shudder.'
Thought he. 'That, too, must be an art of which I understand
nothing.'
Now it came to pass that his father said to him one day
'hearken to me, you fellow in the corner there, you are growing
tall and strong, and you too must learn something by which you
can earn your bread. Look how your brother works, but you do not
even earn your salt.' 'Well, father, he replied, 'I am quite
willing to learn something - indeed, if it could but be managed,
I should like to learn how to shudder. I don't understand that
at all yet.' The elder brother smiled when he heard that, and
thought to himself 'good God, what a blockhead that brother of
mine is. He will never be good for anything as long as he lives.
He who wants to be a sickle must bend himself betimes.' The
father sighed, and answered him 'you shall soon learn what it is
to shudder, but you will not earn your bread by that.' Soon
after this the sexton came to the house on a visit, and the
father bewailed his trouble, and told him how his younger son
was so backward in every respect that he knew nothing and learnt
nothing. 'Just think, said he, 'when I asked him how he was
going to earn his bread, he actually wanted to learn to
shudder.' 'If that be all, replied the sexton, 'he can learn
that with me. Send him to me, and I will soon polish him.' The
father was glad to do it, for he thought 'it will train the boy
a little.' The sexton therefore took him into his house, and he
had to ring the church bell. After a day or two, the sexton
awoke him at midnight, and bade him arise and go up into the
church tower and ring the bell. 'You shall soon learn what
shuddering is, thought he, and secretly went there before him,
and when the boy was at the top of the tower and turned round,
and was just going to take hold of the bell rope, he saw a white
figure standing on the stairs opposite the sounding hole. 'Who
is there.' Cried he, but the figure made no reply, and did not
move or stir. 'Give an answer, cried the boy, 'or take yourself
off, you have no business here at night.'
The sexton, however, remained standing motionless that the
boy might think he was a ghost. The boy cried a second time
'what do you want here. - Speak if you are an honest fellow, or
I will throw you down the steps.' The sexton thought 'he can't
mean to be as bad as his words, uttered no sound and stood as if
he were made of stone. Then the boy called to him for the third
time, and as that was also to no purpose, he ran against him and
pushed the ghost down the stairs, so that it fell down ten steps
and remained lying there in a corner. Thereupon he rang the
bell, went home, and without saying a word went to bed, and fell
asleep. The sexton's wife waited a long time for her husband,
but he did not come back. At length she became uneasy, and
wakened the boy, and asked 'do you not know where my husband is.
He climbed up the tower before you did.' 'No, I don't know,
replied the boy, 'but someone was standing by the sounding hole
on the other side of the steps, and as he would neither give an
answer nor go away, I took him for a scoundrel, and threw him
downstairs. Just go there and you will see if it was he. I
should be sorry if it were.' The woman ran away and found her
husband, who was lying moaning in the corner, and had broken his
leg.
She carried him down, and then with loud screams she hastened
to the boy's father. 'Your boy, cried she, 'has been the cause
of a great misfortune. He has thrown my husband down the steps
so that he broke his leg. Take the good-for-nothing fellow out
of our house.' The father was terrified, and ran thither and
scolded the boy. 'What wicked tricks are these.' Said he, 'the
devil must have put them into your head.' 'Father, he replied,
'do listen to me. I am quite innocent. He was standing there by
night like one intent on doing evil. I did not know who it was,
and I entreated him three times either to speak or to go away.'
'Ah, said the father, 'I have nothing but unhappiness with you.
Go out of my sight. I will see you no more.'
'Yes, father, right willingly, wait only until it is day.
Then will I go forth and learn how to shudder, and then I shall,
at any rate, understand one art which will support me.' 'Learn
what you will, spoke the father, 'it is all the same to me. Here
are fifty talers for you. Take these and go into the wide world,
and tell no one from whence you come, and who is your father,
for I have reason to be ashamed of you.' 'Yes, father, it shall
be as you will. If you desire nothing more than that, I can
easily keep it in mind.'
When day dawned, therefore, the boy put his fifty talers into
his pocket, and went forth on the great highway, and continually
said to himself 'if I could but shudder. If I could but
shudder.' Then a man approached who heard this conversation
which the youth was holding with himself, and when they had
walked a little farther to where they could see the gallows, the
man said to him 'look, there is the tree where seven men have
married the ropemaker's daughter, and are now learning how to
fly. Sit down beneath it, and wait till night comes, and you
will soon learn how to shudder.' 'If that is all that is wanted,
answered the youth, 'it is easily done, but if I learn how to
shudder as fast as that, you shall have my fifty talers. Just
come back to me early in the morning.' Then the youth went to
the gallows, sat down beneath it, and waited till evening came.
And as he was cold, he lighted himself a fire, but at midnight
the wind blew so sharply that in spite of his fire, he could not
get warm. And as the wind knocked the hanged men against each
other, and they moved backwards and forwards, he thought to
himself 'if you shiver below by the fire, how those up above
must freeze and suffer.' And as he felt pity for them, he raised
the ladder, and climbed up, unbound one of them after the other,
and brought down all seven. Then he stoked the fire, blew it,
and set them all round it to warm themselves. But they sat there
and did not stir, and the fire caught their clothes. So he said
'take care, or I will hang you up again.' The dead men, however,
did not hear, but were quite silent, and let their rags go on
burning. At this he grew angry, and said 'if you will not take
care, I cannot help you, I will not be burnt with you, and he
hung them up again each in his turn. Then he sat down by his
fire and fell asleep, and the next morning the man came to him
and wanted to have the fifty talers, and said 'well, do you know
how to shudder.' 'No, answered he, 'how should I know. Those
fellows up there did not open their mouths, and were so stupid
that they let the few old rags which they had on their bodies
get burnt.' Then the man saw that he would not get the fifty
talers that day, and went away saying 'such a youth has never
come my way before.' The youth likewise went his way, and once
more began to mutter to himself 'ah, if I could but shudder. Ah,
if I could but shudder.' A waggoner who was striding behind him
heard this and asked 'who are you.' 'I don't know, answered the
youth. Then the waggoner asked 'from whence do you come.' 'I
know not.' 'Who is your father.' 'That I may not tell you.'
'What is it that you are always muttering between your teeth.'
'Ah, replied the youth, 'I do so wish I could shudder, but no
one can teach me how.' 'Enough of your foolish chatter, said the
waggoner. 'Come, go with me, I will see about a place for you.'
The youth went with the waggoner, and in the evening they
arrived at an inn where they wished to pass the night. Then at
the entrance of the parlor the youth again said quite loudly 'if
I could but shudder. If I could but shudder.' The host who heard
this, laughed and said 'if that is your desire, there ought to
be a good opportunity for you here.' 'Ah, be silent, said the
hostess, 'so many prying persons have already lost their lives,
it would be a pity and a shame if such beautiful eyes as these
should never see the daylight again.' But the youth said
'however difficult it may be, I will learn it. For this purpose
indeed have I journeyed forth.' He let the host have no rest,
until the latter told him, that not far from thence stood a
haunted castle where any one could very easily learn what
shuddering was, if he would but watch in it for three nights.
The king had promised that he who would venture should have his
daughter to wife, and she was the most beautiful maiden the sun
shone on. Likewise in the castle lay great treasures, which were
guarded by evil spirits, and these treasures would then be
freed, and would make a poor man rich enough. Already many men
had gone into the castle, but as yet none had come out again.
Then the youth went next morning to the king and said 'if it be
allowed, I will willingly watch three nights in the haunted
castle.' The king looked at him, and as the youth pleased him,
he said 'you may ask for three things to take into the castle
with you, but they must be things without life.' Then he
answered 'then I ask for a fire, a turning lathe, and a
cutting-board with the knife.' The king had these things carried
into the castle for him during the day. When night was drawing
near, the youth went up and made himself a bright fire in one of
the rooms, placed the cutting-board and knife beside it, and
seated himself by the turning-lathe. 'Ah, if I could but
shudder.' Said he, 'but I shall not learn it here either.'
Towards midnight he was about to poke his fire, and as he was
blowing it, something cried suddenly from one corner 'au, miau.
How cold we are.' 'You fools.' Cried he, 'what are you crying
about. If you are cold, come and take a seat by the fire and
warm yourselves.' And when he had said that, two great black
cats came with one tremendous leap and sat down on each side of
him, and looked savagely at him with their fiery eyes. After a
short time, when they had warmed themselves, they said 'comrade,
shall we have a game of cards.' 'Why not.' He replied, 'but just
show me your paws.' Then they stretched out their claws. 'Oh,
said he, 'what long nails you have. Wait, I must first cut them
for you.' Thereupon he seized them by the throats, put them on
the cutting-board and screwed their feet fast. 'I have looked at
your fingers, said he, 'and my fancy for card-playing has gone,
and he struck them dead and threw them out into the water. But
when he had made away with these two, and was about to sit down
again by his fire, out from every hole and corner came black
cats and black dogs with red-hot chains, and more and more of
them came until he could no longer move, and they yelled
horribly, and got on his fire, pulled it to pieces, and tried to
put it out. He watched them for a while quietly, but at last
when they were going too far, he seized his cutting-knife, and
cried 'away with you, vermin, and began to cut them down. Some
of them ran away, the others he killed, and threw out into the
fish-pond. When he came back he fanned the embers of his fire
again and warmed himself. And as he thus sat, his eyes would
keep open no longer, and he felt a desire to sleep. Then he
looked round and saw a great bed in the corner. 'That is the
very thing for me, said he, and got into it. When he was just
going to shut his eyes, however, the bed began to move of its
own accord, and went over the whole of the castle. 'That's
right, said he, 'but go faster.' Then the bed rolled on as if
six horses were harnessed to it, up and down, over thresholds
and stairs, but suddenly hop, hop, it turned over upside down,
and lay on him like a mountain. But he threw quilts and pillows
up in the air, got out and said 'now any one who likes, may
drive, and lay down by his fire, and slept till it was day. In
the morning the king came, and when he saw him lying there on
the ground, he thought the evil spirits had killed him and he
was dead. Then said he 'after all it is a pity, -- for so
handsome a man.' The youth heard it, got up, and said 'it has
not come to that yet.' Then the king was astonished, but very
glad, and asked how he had fared. 'Very well indeed, answered
he, 'one night is past, the two others will pass likewise.' Then
he went to the innkeeper, who opened his eyes very wide, and
said 'I never expected to see you alive again. Have you learnt
how to shudder yet.' 'No, said he, 'it is all in vain. If some
one would but tell me.' The second night he again went up into
the old castle, sat down by the fire, and once more began his
old song 'if I could but shudder.' When midnight came, an uproar
and noise of tumbling about was heard, at first it was low, but
it grew louder and louder. Then it was quiet for a while, and at
length with a loud scream, half a man came down the chimney and
fell before him. 'Hullo.' Cried he, 'another half belongs to
this. This is not enough.' Then the uproar began again, there
was a roaring and howling, and the other half fell down
likewise. 'Wait, said he, 'I will just stoke up the fire a
little for you.' When he had done that and looked round again,
the two pieces were joined together, and a hideous man was
sitting in his place. 'That is no part of our bargain, said the
youth, 'the bench is mine.' The man wanted to push him away, the
youth, however, would not allow that, but thrust him off with
all his strength, and seated himself again in his own place.
Then still more men fell down, one after the other, they brought
nine dead men's legs and two skulls, and set them up and played
at nine-pins with them. The youth also wanted to play and said
'listen you, can I join you.' 'Yes, if you have any money.'
Money enough, replied he, 'but your balls are not quite round.'
Then he took the skulls and put them in the lathe and turned
them till they were round. 'There, now they will roll better.'
Said he. 'Hurrah. Now we'll have fun.' He played with them and
lost some of his money, but when it struck twelve, everything
vanished from his sight. He lay down and quietly fell asleep.
Next morning the king came to inquire after him. 'How has it
fared with you this time.' Asked he. 'I have been playing at
nine-pins, he answered, 'and have lost a couple of farthings.'
'Have you not shuddered then.' 'What.' Said he, 'I have had a
wonderful time. If I did but know what it was to shudder.' The
third night he sat down again on his bench and said quite sadly
'if I could but shudder.' When it grew late, six tall men came
in and brought a coffin. Then said he 'ha, ha, that is certainly
my little cousin, who died only a few days ago, and he beckoned
with his finger, and cried 'come, little cousin, come.' They
placed the coffin on the ground, but he went to it and took the
lid off, and a dead man lay therein. He felt his face, but it
was cold as ice. 'Wait, said he, 'I will warm you a little, and
went to the fire and warmed his hand and laid it on the dead
man's face, but he remained cold. Then he took him out, and sat
down by the fire and laid him on his breast and rubbed his arms
that the blood might circulate again. As this also did no good,
he thought to himself 'when two people lie in bed together, they
warm each other, and carried him to the bed, covered him over
and lay down by him. After a short time the dead man became warm
too, and began to move. Then said the youth, 'see, little
cousin, have I not warmed you.' The dead man, however, got up
and cried 'now will I strangle you.' 'What.' Said he, 'is that
the way you thank me. You shall at once go into your coffin
again, and he took him up, threw him into it, and shut the lid.
Then came the six men and carried him away again. 'I cannot
manage to shudder, said he. 'I shall never learn it here as long
as I live.' Then a man entered who was taller than all others,
and looked terrible. He was old, however, and had a long white
beard. 'You wretch, cried he, 'you shall soon learn what it is
to shudder, for you shall die.' 'Not so fast, replied the youth.
'If I am to die, I shall have to have a say in it.' 'I will soon
seize you, said the fiend. 'Softly, softly, do not talk so big.
I am as strong as you are, and perhaps even stronger.' 'We shall
see, said the old man. 'If you are stronger, I will let you go -
come, we will try.' Then he led him by dark passages to a
smith's forge, took an axe, and with one blow struck an anvil
into the ground. 'I can do better than that, said the youth, and
went to the other anvil. The old man placed himself near and
wanted to look on, and his white beard hung down. Then the youth
seized the axe, split the anvil with one blow, and in it caught
the old man's beard. 'Now I have you, said the youth. 'Now it is
your turn to die.' Then he seized an iron bar and beat the old
man till he moaned and entreated him to stop, when he would give
him great riches. The youth drew out the axe and let him go. The
old man led him back into the castle, and in a cellar showed him
three chests full of gold. 'Of these, said he, 'one part is for
the poor, the other for the king, the third yours.' In the
meantime it struck twelve, and the spirit disappeared, so that
the youth stood in darkness. 'I shall still be able to find my
way out, said he and felt about, found the way into the room,
and slept there by his fire. Next morning the king came and said
'now you must have learnt what shuddering is.' 'No, he answered
'what can it be. My dead cousin was here, and a bearded man came
and showed me a great deal of money down below, but no one told
me what it was to shudder.' 'Then, said the king, 'you have
saved the castle, and shall marry my daughter.' 'That is all
very well, said he, 'but still I do not know what it is to
shudder.' Then the gold was brought up and the wedding
celebrated, but howsoever much the young king loved his wife,
and however happy he was, he still said always 'if I could but
shudder - if I could but shudder.' And this at last angered her.
Her waiting-maid said 'I will find a cure for him, he shall soon
learn what it is to shudder. She went out to the stream which
flowed through the garden, and had a whole bucketful of gudgeons
brought to her.
At night when the young king was sleeping, his wife was to
draw the clothes off him and empty the bucketful of cold water
with the gudgeons in it over him, so that the little fishes
would sprawl about him. Then he woke up and cried 'oh, what
makes me shudder so. - What makes me shudder so, dear wife. Ah.
Now I know what it is to shudder.'
|
The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids
There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little
kids, and loved them with all the love of a mother for her
children. One day she wanted to go into the forest and fetch
some food. So she called all seven to her and said, dear
children, I have to go into the forest, be on your guard against
the wolf, if he comes in, he will devour you all - skin, hair,
and everything. The wretch often disguises himself, but you will
know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet. The kids
said, dear mother, we will take good care of ourselves, you may
go away without any anxiety. Then the old one bleated, and went
on her way with an easy mind.
It was not long before some one knocked at the house-door and
called, open the door, dear children, your mother is here, and
has brought something back with her for each of you. But the
little kids knew that it was the wolf, by the rough voice. We
will not open the door, cried they, you are not our mother. She
has a soft, pleasant voice, but your voice is rough, you are the
wolf. Then the wolf went away to a shopkeeper and bought himself
a great lump of chalk, ate this and made his voice soft with it.
The he came back, knocked at the door of the house, and called,
open the door, dear children, your mother is here and has
brought something back with her for each of you. But the wolf
had laid his black paws against the window, and the children saw
them and cried, we will not open the door, our mother has not
black feet like you, you are the wolf. Then the wolf ran to a
baker and said, I have hurt my feet, rub some dough over them
for me. And when the baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to
the miller and said, strew some white meal over my feet for me.
The miller thought to himself, the wolf wants to deceive
someone, and refused, but the wolf said, if you will not do it,
I will devour you. Then the miller was afraid, and made his paws
white for him. Truly, this the way of mankind.
So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door,
knocked at it and said, open the door for me, children, your
dear little mother has come home, and has brought every one of
you something back from the forest with her. The little kids
cried, first show us your paws that we may know if you are our
dear little mother. Then he put his paws in through the window,
and when the kids saw that they were white, they believed that
all he said was true, and opened the door. But who should come
in but the wolf they were terrified and wanted to hide
themselves. One sprang under the table, the second into the bed,
the third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth
into the cupboard, the sixth under the washing-bowl, and the
seventh into the clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and
used no great ceremony, one after the other he swallowed them
down his throat. The youngest, who was in the clock-case, was
the only one he did not find. When the wolf had satisfied his
appetite he took himself off, laid himself down under a tree in
the green meadow outside, and began to sleep. Soon afterwards
the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah. What a sight
she saw there. The house-door stood wide open. The table,
chairs, and benches were thrown down, the washing-bowl lay
broken to pieces, and the quilts and pillows were pulled off the
bed. She sought her children, but they were nowhere to be found.
She called them one after another by name, but no one answered.
At last, when she caame to the youngest, a soft voice cried,
dear mother, I am in the clock-case. She took the kid out, and
it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others.
Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor children.
At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran
with her. When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by
the tree and snored so loud that the branches shook. She looked
at him on every side and saw that something was moving and
struggling in his gorged belly. Ah, heavens, she said, is it
possible that my poor children whom he has swallowed down for
his supper, can be still alive. Then the kid had to run home and
fetch scissors, and a needle and thread and the goat cut open
the monster's stomach, and hardly had she make one cut, than one
little kid thrust its head out, and when she cut farther, all
six sprang out one after another, and were all still alive, and
had suffered no injury whatever, for in his greediness the
monster had swallowed them down whole. What rejoicing there was.
They embraced their dear mother, and jumped like a sailor at his
wedding. The mother, however, said, now go and look for some big
stones, and we will fill the wicked beast's stomach with them
while he is still asleep. Then the seven kids dragged the stones
thither with all speed, and put as many of them into his stomach
as they could get in, and the mother sewed him up again in the
greatest haste, so that he was not aware of anything and never
once stirred.
When the wolf at length had had his fill of sleep, he got on
his legs, and as the stones in his stomach made him very
thirsty, he wanted to go to a well to drink. But when he began
to walk and move about, the stones in his stomach knocked
against each other and rattled. Then cried he, what rumbles and
tumbles against my poor bones. I thought 'twas six kids, but it
feels like big stones. And when he got to the well and stooped
over the water to drink, the heavy stones made him fall in, and
he had to drown miserably. When the seven kids saw that, they
came running to the spot and cried aloud, the wolf is dead. The
wolf is dead, and danced for joy round about the well with their
mother.
|
Faithful John
There was once upon a time an old king who was ill and
thought to himself 'I am lying on what must be my deathbed.'
Then said he 'tell faithful John to come to me.' Faithful John
was his favorite servant, and was so called, because he had for
his whole life long been so true to him. When therefore he came
beside the bed, the king said to him 'most faithful John, I feel
my end approaching, and have no anxiety except about my son. He
is still of tender age, and cannot always know how to guide
himself. If you do not promise me to teach him everything that
he ought to know, and to be his foster-father, I cannot close my
eyes in peace.' Then answered faithful John 'I will not forsake
him, and will serve him with fidelity, even if it should cost me
my life.' At this, the old king said 'now I die in comfort and
peace.' Then he added 'after my death, you shall show him the
whole castle - all the chambers, halls, and vaults, and all the
treasures which lie therein, but the last chamber in the long
gallery, in which is the picture of the princess of the golden
dwelling, shall you not show. If he sees that picture, he will
fall violently in love with her, and will drop down in a swoon,
and go through great danger for her sake, therefore you must
protect him from that.' And when faithful John had once more
given his promise to the old king about this, the king said no
more, but laid his head on his pillow, and died.
When the old king had been carried to his grave, faithful
John told the young king all that he had promised his father on
his deathbed, and said 'this will I assuredly keep, and will be
faithful to you as I have been faithful to him, even if it
should cost me my life.' When the mourning was over, faithful
John said to him 'it is now time that you should see your
inheritance. I will show you your father's palace.' Then he took
him about everywhere, up and down, and let him see all the
riches, and the magnificent apartments, only there was one room
which he did not open, that in which hung the dangerous picture.
The picture, however, was so placed that when the door was
opened you looked straight on it, and it was so admirably
painted that it seemed to breathe and live, and there was
nothing more charming or more beautiful in the whole world. The
young king noticed, however, that faithful John always walked
past this one door, and said 'why do you never open this one for
me.' 'There is something within it, he replied, 'which would
terrify you.' But the king answered 'I have seen all the palace,
and I want to know what is in this room also, and he went and
tried to break open the door by force. Then faithful John held
him back and said 'I promised your father before his death that
you should not see that which is in this chamber, it might bring
the greatest misfortune on you and on me.' 'Ah, no, replied the
young king, 'if I do not go in, it will be my certain
destruction. I should have no rest day or night until I had seen
it with my own eyes. I shall not leave the place now until you
have unlocked the door.'
Then faithful John saw that there was no help for it now, and
with a heavy heart and many sighs, sought out the key from the
great bunch. When he opened the door, he went in first, and
thought by standing before him he could hide the portrait so
that the king should not see it in front of him. But what good
was this. The king stood on tip-toe and saw it over his
shoulder. And when he saw the portrait of the maiden, which was
so magnificent and shone with gold and precious stones, he fell
fainting to the ground. Faithful John took him up, carried him
to his bed, and sorrowfully thought 'the misfortune has befallen
us, Lord God, what will be the end of it.' Then he strengthened
him with wine, until he came to himself again. The first words
the king said were 'ah, the beautiful portrait. Whose it it.'
'That is the princess of the golden dwelling, answered faithful
John. Then the king continued 'my love for her is so great, that
if all the leaves on all the trees were tongues, they could not
declare it. I will give my life to win her. You are my most
faithful John, you must help me.
The faithful servant considered within himself for a long
time how to set about the matter, for it was difficult even to
obtain a sight of the king's daughter. At length he thought of a
way, and said to the king 'everything which she has about her is
of gold - tables, chairs, dishes, glasses, bowls, and household
furniture. Among your treasures are five tons of gold, let one
of the goldsmiths of the kingdom fashion these into all manner
of vessels and utensils, into all kinds of birds, wild beasts
and strange animals, such as may please her, and we will go
there with them and try our luck.'
The king ordered all the goldsmiths to be brought to him, and
they had to work night and day until at last the most splendid
things were prepared. When everything was stowed on board a
ship, faithful John put on the dress of a merchant, and the king
was forced to do the same in order to make himself quite
unrecognizable. Then they sailed across the sea, and sailed on
until they came to the town wherein dwelt the princess of the
golden dwelling.
Faithful John bade the king stay behind on the ship, and wait
for him. 'Perhaps I shall bring the princess with me, said he,
'therefore see that everything is in order, have the golden
vessels set out and the whole ship decorated.' Then he gathered
together in his apron all kinds of golden things, went on shore
and walked straight to the royal palace. When he entered the
courtyard of the palace, a beautiful girl was standing there by
the well with two golden buckets in her hand, drawing water with
them. And when she was just turning round to carry away the
sparkling water she saw the stranger, and asked who he was. So
he answered 'I am a merchant, and opened his apron, and let her
look in. Then she cried 'oh, what beautiful golden things.' And
put her pails down and looked at the golden wares one after the
other. Then said the girl 'the princess must see these, she has
such great pleasure in golden things, that she will buy all you
have.' She took him by the hand and led him upstairs, for she
was the waiting-maid. When the king's daughter saw the wares,
she was quite delighted and said 'they are so beautifully
worked, that I will buy them all from you.' But faithful John
said 'I am only the servant of a rich merchant. The things I
have here are not to be compared with those my master has in his
ship. They are the most beautiful and valuable things that have
ever been made in gold.' When she wanted to have everything
brought up to her, he said 'there are so many of them that it
would take a great many days to do that, and so many rooms would
be required to exhibit them, that your house is not big enough.'
Then her curiosity and longing were still more excited, until at
last she said 'conduct me to the ship, I will go there myself,
and behold the treasures of your master.' At this faithful John
was quite delighted, and led her to the ship, and when the king
saw her, he perceived that her beauty was even greater than the
picture had represented it to be, and thought no other than that
his heart would burst in twain. Then she boarded the ship, and
the king led her within. Faithful John, however, remained with
the helmsman, and ordered the ship to be pushed off, saying 'set
all sail, till it fly like a bird in the air.' Within, the king
showed her the golden vessels, every one of them, also the wild
beasts and strange animals. Many hours went by whilst she was
seeing everything, and in her delight she did not observe that
the ship was sailing away. After she had looked at the last, she
thanked the merchant and wanted to go home, but when she came to
the side of the ship, she saw that it was on the high seas far
from land, and hurrying onwards with all sail set. 'Ah, cried
she in her alarm, 'I am betrayed. I am carried away and have
fallen into the power of a merchant - I would rather die.' The
king, however, seized her hand, and said 'I am not a merchant. I
am a king, and of no meaner origin than you are, and if I have
carried you away with subtlety, that has come to pass because of
my exceeding great love for you. The first time that I looked on
your portrait, I fell fainting to the ground.' When the princess
of the golden dwelling heard this, she was comforted, and her
heart was drawn to him, so that she willingly consented to be
his wife. It so happened, while they were sailing onwards over
the deep sea, that faithful John, who was sitting on the fore
part of the vessel, making music, saw three ravens in the air,
which came flying towards them. At this he stopped playing and
listened to what they were saying to each other, for that he
well understood. One cried 'oh, there he is carrying home the
princess of the golden dwelling.' 'Yes, replied the second, 'but
he has not got her yet.' Said the third 'but he has got her, she
is sitting beside him in the ship.' Then the first began again,
and cried 'what good will that do him. When they reach land a
chestnut horse will leap forward to meet him, and the prince
will want to mount it, but if he does that, it will run away
with him, and rise up into the air, and he will never see his
maiden more.' Spoke the second 'but is there no escape.' 'Oh,
yes, if someone else mounts it swiftly, and takes out the pistol
which he will find in its holster, and shoots the horse dead,
the young king is saved. But who knows that. And whosoever does
know it, and tells it to him, will be turned to stone from the
toe to the knee.' Then said the second 'I know more than that,
even if the horse be killed, the young king will still not keep
his bride. When they go into the castle together, a wrought
bridal garment will be lying there in a dish, and looking as if
it were woven of gold and silver, it is, however, nothing but
sulphur and pitch, and if he put it on, it will burn him to the
very bone and marrow.' Said the third 'is there no escape at
all.' 'Oh, yes, replied the second, 'if any one with gloves on
seizes the garment and throws it into the fire and burns it, the
young king will be saved. But what good will that do. Whosoever
knows it and tells it to him, half his body will become stone
from the knee to the heart.' Then said the third 'I know still
more, even if the bridal garment be burnt, the young king will
still not have his bride. After the wedding, when the dancing
begins and the young queen is dancing, she will suddenly turn
pale and fall down as if dead, and if some one does not lift her
up and draw three drops of blood from her right breast and spit
them out again, she will die. But if any one who knows that were
to declare it, he would become stone from the crown of his head
to the sole of his foot.' When the ravens had spoken of this
together, they flew onwards, and faithful John had well
understood everything, but from that time forth he became quiet
and sad, for if he concealed what he had heard from his master,
the latter would be unfortunate, and if he disclosed it to him,
he himself must sacrifice his life. At length, however, he said
to himself 'I will save my master, even if it bring destruction
on myself.' When therefore they came to shore, all happened as
had been foretold by the ravens, and a magnificent chestnut
horse sprang forward. 'Good, said the king, 'he shall carry me
to my palace, and was about to mount it when faithful John got
before him, jumped quickly on it, drew the pistol out of the
holster, and shot the horse. Then the other attendants of the
king, who were not very fond of faithful John, cried 'how
shameful to kill the beautiful animal, that was to have carried
the king to his palace.' But the king said 'hold your peace and
leave him alone, he is my most faithful John. Who knows what
good may come of this.' They went into the palace, and in the
hall there stood a dish, and therein lay the bridal garment
looking no otherwise than as if it were made of gold and silver.
The young king went towards it and was about to take hold of it,
but faithful John pushed him away, seized it with gloves on,
carried it quickly to the fire and burnt it. The other
attendants again began to murmur, and said 'behold, now he is
even burning the king's bridal garment.' But the young king said
'who knows what good he may have done, leave him alone, he is my
most faithful John.' And now the wedding was solemnized - the
dance began, and the bride also took part in it, then faithful
John was watchful and looked into her face, and suddenly she
turned pale and fell to the ground as if she were dead. On this
he ran hastily to her, lifted her up and bore her into a chamber
- then he laid her down, and knelt and sucked the three drops of
blood from her right breast, and spat them out. Immediately she
breathed again and recovered herself, but the young king had
seen this, and being ignorant why faithful John had done it, was
angry and cried 'throw him into a dungeon.' Next morning
faithful John was condemned, and led to the gallows, and when he
stood on high, and was about to be executed, he said 'every one
who has to die is permitted before his end to make one last
speech, may I too claim the right.' 'Yes, answered the king, 'it
shall be granted unto you.' Then said faithful John 'I am
unjustly condemned, and have always been true to you, and he
related how he had hearkened to the conversation of the ravens
when on the sea, and how he had been obliged to do all these
things in order to save his master. Then cried the king 'oh, my
most faithful John. Pardon, pardon - bring him down.' But as
faithful John spoke the last word he had fallen down lifeless
and become a stone.
Thereupon the king and the queen suffered great anguish, and
the king said 'ah, how ill I have requited great fidelity.' And
ordered the stone figure to be taken up and placed in his
bedroom beside his bed. And as often as he looked on it he wept
and said 'ah, if I could bring you to life again, my most
faithful John.'
Some time passed and the queen bore twins, two sons who grew
fast and were her delight. Once when the queen was at church and
the father was sitting with his two children playing beside him,
he looked at the stone figure again, sighed, and full of grief
he said 'ah, if I could but bring you to life again, my most
faithful John.' Then the stone began to speak and said 'you can
bring me to life again if you will use for that purpose what is
dearest to you.' Then cried the king 'I will give everything I
have in the world for you.' The stone continued 'if you will cut
off the heads of your two children with your own hand, and
sprinkle me with their blood, I shall be restored to life.'
The king was terrified when he heard that he himself must
kill his dearest children, but he thought of faithful John's
great fidelity, and how he had died for him, drew his sword, and
with his own hand cut off the children's heads. And when he had
smeared the stone with their blood, life returned to it, and
faithful John stood once more safe and healthy before him. He
said to the king 'your truth shall not go unrewarded, and took
the heads of the children, put them on again, and rubbed the
wounds with their blood, at which they became whole again
immediately, and jumped about, and went on playing as if nothing
had happened. Then the king was full of joy, and when he saw the
queen coming he hid faithful John and the two children in a
great cupboard. When she entered, he said to her 'have you been
praying in the church.' 'Yes, answered she, 'but I have
constantly been thinking of faithful John and what misfortune
has befallen him through us.' Then said he 'dear wife, we can
give him his life again, but it will cost us our two little
sons, whom we must sacrifice.' The queen turned pale, and her
heart was full of terror, but she said 'we owe it to him, for
his great fidelity.' Then the king was rejoiced that she thought
as he had thought, and went and opened the cupboard, and brought
forth faithful John and the children, and said 'God be praised,
he is delivered, and we have our little sons again also, and
told her how everything had occurred. Then they dwelt together
in much happiness until their death.
|
The Good Bargain
There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the fair,
and sold her for seven talers. On the way home he had to pass a
pond, and already from afar he heard the frogs crying, aik, aik,
aik, aik. Well, said he to himself, they are talking without
rhyme or reason, it is seven that I have received, not eight.
When he got to the water, he cried to them, stupid animals that
you are. Don't you know better than that. It is seven thalers
and not eight. The frogs, however, stuck to their, aik aik, aik,
aik. Come, then, if you won't believe it, I can count it out to
you. And he took his money out of his pocket and counted out the
seven talers, always reckoning four and twenty groschen to a
taler. The frogs, however, paid no attention to his reckoning,
but still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik. What, cried the peasant,
quite angry, if you know better than I, count it yourselves, and
threw all the money at them into the water. He stood still and
wanted to wait until they were through and had returned to him
what was his, but the frogs maintained their opinion and cried
continually, aik, aik, aik, aik. And besides that, did not throw
the money out again. He still waited a long while until evening
came on and he was forced to go home. Then he abused the frogs
and cried, you water-splashers, you thick-heads, you
goggle-eyes, you have great mouths and can screech till you hurt
one's ears, but you cannot count seven talers. Do you think I'm
going to stand here till you get through. And with that he went
away, but the frogs still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik, after him
till he went home sorely vexed. After a while he bought another
cow, which he slaughtered, and he made the calculation that if
he sold the meat well he might gain as much as the two cows were
worth, and have the hide into the bargain. When therefore he got
to the town with the meat, a great pack of dogs were gathered
together in front of the gate, with a large greyhound at the
head of them, which jumped at the meat, sniffed at it, and
barked, wow, wow, wow. As there was no stopping him, the peasant
said to him, yes, yes, I know quite well that you are saying
wow, wow, wow, because you want some of the meat, but I should
be in a fine state if I were to give it to you. The dog,
however, answered nothing but wow, wow. Will you promise not to
devour it all then, and will you go bail for your companions.
Wow, wow, wow, said the dog. Well, if you insist on it, I will
leave it for you, I know you well, and know whom you serve, but
this I tell you, I must have my money in three days or else it
will go ill with you, you can just bring it out to me. Thereupon
he unloaded the meat and turned back again. The dogs fell upon
it and loudly barked, wow, wow. The countryman, who heard them
from afar, said to himself, hark, now they all want some, but
the big one is responsible to me for it. When three days had
passed, the countryman thought, to-night my money will be in my
pocket, and was quite delighted. But no one would come and pay
it. There is no trusting any one now, said he. At last he lost
patience, and went into the town to the butcher and demanded his
money. The butcher thought it was a joke, but the peasant said,
jesting apart, I will have my money. Did not the big dog bring
you the whole of the slaughtered cow three days ago. Then the
butcher grew angry, snatched a broomstick and drove him out.
Wait, said the peasant, there is still some justice in the
world, and went to the royal palace and begged for an audience.
He was led before the king, who sat there with his daughter, and
asked him what injury he had suffered. Alas, said he, the frogs
and the dogs have taken from me what is mine, and the butcher
has paid me for it with the stick. And he related at full length
what had happened. Thereupon the king's daughter began to laugh
heartily, and the king said to him, I cannot give you justice in
this, but you shall have my daughter to wife for it - in her
whole life she has never yet laughed as she has just done at
you, and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh.
You may thank God for your good fortune. Oh, answered the
peasant, I do not want her at all. I have a wife already, and
she is one too many for me, when I go home, it is just as if I
had a wife standing in every corner. Then the king grew angry,
and said, you are a boor. Ah, lord king, replied the peasant,
what can you expect from an ox, but beef. Stop, answered the
king, you shall have another reward. Be off now, but come back
in three days, and then you shall have five hundred counted out
in full. When the peasant went out by the gate, the sentry said,
you have made the king's daughter laugh, so you will certainly
receive something good. Yes, that is what I think, answered the
peasant, five hundred are to be counted out to me. Listen, said
the soldier, give me some of it. What can you do with all that
money. As it is you, said the peasant, you shall have two
hundred, present yourself in three days, time before the king,
and let it be paid to you. A Jew, who was standing by and had
heard the conversation, ran after the peasant, held him by the
coat, and said, oh, wonder of God, what a child of fortune you
are. I will change it for you, I will change it for you into
small coins, what do you want with the great talers. Jew, said
the countryman, three hundred can you still have, give it to me
at once in coin, in three days from this, you will be paid for
it by the king. The Jew was delighted with the small profit, and
brought the sum in bad groschen, three of which were worth two
good ones. After three days had passed, according to the king's
command, the peasant went before the king. Pull his coat off,
said the latter, and he shall have his five hundred. Ah, said
the peasant, they no longer belong to me, I presented two
hundred of them to the sentry, and three hundred the Jew has
changed for me, so by right nothing at all belongs to me. In the
meantime the soldier and the Jew entered and claimed what they
had gained from the peasant, and they received the blows
strictly counted out. The soldier bore it patiently and knew
already how it tasted, but the Jew said sorrowfully, alas, alas,
are these the heavy talers. The king could not help laughing at
the peasant, and when all his anger was spent, he said, as you
have already lost your reward before it fell to your lot, I will
give you compensation. Go into my treasure chamber and get some
money for yourself, as much as you will. The peasant did not
need to be told twice, and stuffed into his big pockets
whatsoever would go in. Afterwards he went to an inn and counted
out his money. The Jew had crept after him and heard how he
muttered to himself, that rogue of a king has cheated me after
all, why could he not have given me the money himself, and then
I should have known what I had. How can I tell now if what I
have had the luck to put in my pockets is right or not. Good
heavens, said the Jew to himself, that man is speaking
disrespectfully of our lord the king, I will run and inform, and
then I shall get a reward, and he will be punished as well. When
the king heard of the peasant's words he fell into a passion,
and commanded the Jew to go and bring the offender to him. The
Jew ran to the peasant, you are to go at once to the lord king
in the very clothes you have on. I know what's right better than
that, answered the peasant, I shall have a new coat made first.
Do you think that a man with so much money in his pocket should
go there in his ragged old coat. The Jew, as he saw that the
peasant would not stir without another coat, and as he feared
that if the king's anger cooled, he himself would lose his
reward, and the peasant his punishment, said, I will out of pure
friendship lend you a coat for the short time. What people will
not do for love. The peasant was contented with this, put the
Jew's coat on, and went off with him. The king reproached the
countryman because of the evil speaking of which the Jew had
informed him. Ah, said the peasant, what a Jew says is always
false - no true word ever comes out of his mouth. That rascal
there is capable of maintaining that I have his coat on. What is
that, shrieked the Jew, is the coat not mine. Have I not lent it
to you out of pure friendship, in order that you might appear
before the lord king. When the king heard that, he said, the Jew
has assuredly deceived one or the other of us, either myself or
the peasant. And again he ordered something to be counted out to
him in hard thalers. The peasant, however, went home in the good
coat, with the good money in his pocket, and said to himself,
this time I have made it.
|
The Twelve Brothers
There were once upon a time a king and a queen who lived
happily together and had twelve children, but they were all
boys. Then said the king to his wife, if the thirteenth child
which you are about to bring into the world, is a girl, the
twelve boys shall die, in order that her possessions may be
great, and that the kingdom may fall to her alone. He even
caused twelve coffins to be made, which were already filled with
shavings, and in each lay a little death pillow, and he had them
taken into a locked-up room, and then he gave the queen the key
of it, and bade her not to speak of this to anyone.
The mother, however, now sat and lamented all day long, until
the youngest son, who was always with her, and whom she had
named benjamin, from the bible, said to her, dear mother, why
are you so sad.
Dearest child, she answered, I may not tell you. But he let
her have no rest until she went and unlocked the room, and
showed him the twelve coffins ready filled with shavings. Then
she said, my dearest benjamin, your father has had these coffins
made for you and for your eleven brothers, for if I bring a
little girl into the world, you are all to be killed and buried
in them. And as she wept while she was saying this, the son
comforted her and said, weep not, dear mother, we will save
ourselves, and go hence. But she said, go forth into the forest
with your eleven brothers, and let one sit constantly on the
highest tree which can be found, and keep watch, looking towards
the tower here in the castle. If I give birth to a little son, I
will put up a white flag, and then you may venture to come back.
But if I bear a daughter, I will hoist a red flag, and then fly
hence as quickly as you are able, and may the good God protect
you. And every night I will rise up and pray for you - in winter
that you may be able to warm yourself at a fire, and in summer
that you may not faint away in the heat.
After she had blessed her sons therefore, they went forth
into the forest. They each kept watch in turn, and sat on the
highest oak and looked towards the tower. When eleven days had
passed and the turn came to benjamin, he saw that a flag was
being raised. It was, however, not the white, but the blood-red
flag which announced that they were all to die. When the
brothers heard that, they were very angry and said, are we all
to suffer death for the sake of a girl. We swear that we will
avenge ourselves - wheresoever we find a girl, her red blood
shall flow.
Thereupon they went deeper into the forest, and in the midst
of it, where it was the darkest, they found a little bewitched
hut, which was standing empty. Then said they, here we will
dwell, and you benjamin, who are the youngest and weakest, you
shall stay at home and keep house, we others will go out and
fetch food.
Then they went into the forest and shot hares, wild deer,
birds and pigeons, and whatsoever there was to eat. This they
took to benjamin, who had to dress it for them in order that
they might appease their hunger. They lived together ten years
in the little hut, and the time did not appear long to them.
The little daughter which their mother the queen had given
birth to, was now grown up. She was good of heart, and fair of
face, and had a golden star on her forehead. Once, on a great
washing, she saw twelve men's shirts among the things, and asked
her mother, to whom do these twelve shirts belong, for they are
far too small for father. Then the queen answered with a heavy
heart, dear child, these belong to your twelve brothers. Said
the maiden, where are my twelve brothers, I have never yet heard
of them. She replied, God knows where they are, they are
wandering about the world. Then she took the maiden and opened
the chamber for her, and showed her the twelve coffins with the
shavings, and the death pillows. These coffins, said she, were
destined for your brothers, who went away secretly before you
were born, and she related to her how everything had happened.
Then said the maiden, dear mother, weep not, I will go and seek
my brothers.
So she took the twelve shirts and went forth, and straight
into the great forest. She walked the whole day, and in the
evening she came to the bewitched hut. Then she entered it and
found a young boy, who asked, from whence do you come, and
whither are you bound, and was astonished that she was so
beautiful, and wore royal garments, and had a star on her
forehead. And she answered, I am a king's daughter, and am
seeking my twelve brothers, and I will walk as far as the sky is
blue until I find them. And she showed him the twelve shirts
which belonged to them. Then benjamin saw that she was his
sister, and said, I am benjamin, your youngest brother. And she
began to weep for joy, and benjamin wept also, and they kissed
and embraced each other with the greatest love. But after this
he said, dear sister, there is still one difficulty. We have
agreed that every maiden whom we meet shall die, because we have
been obliged to leave our kingdom on account of a girl. Then
said she, I will willingly die, if by so doing I can save my
twelve brothers.
No, answered he, you shall not die. Seat yourself beneath
this tub until our eleven brothers come, and then I will soon
come to an agreement with them.
She did so, and when it was night the others came from
hunting, and their dinner was ready. And as they were sitting at
table, and eating, they asked, what news is there. Said
benjamin, don't you know anything. No, they answered. He
continued, you have been in the forest and I have stayed at
home, and yet I know more than you do. Tell us then, they cried.
He answered, but promise me that the first maiden who meets us
shall not be killed.
Yes, they all cried, she shall have mercy, only do tell us.
Then said he, our sister is here, and he lifted up the tub, and
the king's daughter came forth in her royal garments with the
golden star on her forehead, and she was beautiful, delicate and
fair. Then they were all rejoiced, and fell on her neck, and
kissed and loved her with all their hearts.
Now she stayed at home with benjamin and helped him with the
work. The eleven went into the forest and caught game, and deer,
and birds, and wood-pigeons that they might have food, and the
little sister and benjamin took care to make it ready for them.
She sought for the wood for cooking and herbs for vegetables,
and put the pans on the fire so that the dinner was always ready
when the eleven came. She likewise kept order in the little
house, and put beautifully white clean coverings on the little
beds and the brothers were always contented and lived in great
harmony with her.
Once upon a time the two at home had prepared a wonderful
feast, and when they were all together, they sat down and ate
and drank and were full of gladness. There was, however, a
little garden belonging to the bewitched house wherein stood
twelve lily flowers, which are likewise called student-lilies.
She wished to give her brothers pleasure, and plucked the twelve
flowers, and thought she would present each brother with one
while at dinner. But at the self-same moment that she plucked
the flowers the twelve brothers were changed into twelve ravens,
and flew away over the forest, and the house and garden vanished
likewise. And now the poor maiden was alone in the wild forest,
and when she looked around, an old woman was standing near her
who said, my child, what have you done. Why did you not leave
the twelve white flowers growing. They were your brothers, who
are now forevermore changed into ravens. The maiden said,
weeping, is there no way of saving them.
No, said the woman, there is but one in the whole world, and
that is so hard that you will not save them by it, for you must
be dumb for seven years, and may not speak or laugh, and if you
speak one single word, and only an hour of the seven years is
wanting, all is in vain, and your brothers will be killed by the
one word.
Then said the maiden in her heart, I know with certainty that
I shall set my brothers free, and went and sought a high tree
and seated herself in it and spun, and neither spoke nor
laughed. Now it so happened that a king was hunting in the
forest, who had a great greyhound which ran to the tree on which
the maiden was sitting, and sprang about it, whining, and
barking at her. Then the king came by and saw the beautiful
king's daughter with the golden star on her brow, and was so
charmed with her beauty that he called to ask her if she would
be his wife. She made no answer, but nodded a little with her
head. So he climbed up the tree himself, carried her down,
placed her on his horse, and bore her home. Then the wedding was
solemnized with great magnificence and rejoicing, but the bride
neither spoke nor smiled. When they had lived happily together
for a few years, the king's mother, who was a wicked woman,
began to slander the young queen, and said to the king, this is
a common beggar girl whom you have brought back with you. Who
knows what wicked tricks she practises secretly. Even if she be
dumb, and not able to speak, she still might laugh for once. But
those who do not laugh have bad consciences.
At first the king would not believe it, but the old woman
urged this so long, and accused her of so many evil things, that
at last the king let himself be persuaded and sentenced her to
death. And now a great fire was lighted in the courtyard in
which she was to be burnt, and the king stood above at the
window and looked on with tearful eyes, because he still loved
her so much. And when she was bound fast to the stake, and the
fire was licking at her clothes with its red tongue, the last
instant of the seven years expired. Then a whirring sound was
heard in the air, and twelve ravens came flying towards the
place, and sank downwards, and when they touched the earth they
were her twelve brothers, whom she had saved. They tore the fire
asunder, extinguished the flames, set their dear sister free,
and kissed and embraced her. And now as she dared to open her
mouth and speak, she told the king why she had been dumb, and
had never laughed. The king rejoiced when he heard that she was
innocent, and they all lived in great unity until their death.
The wicked step-mother was taken before the judge, and put into
a barrel filled with boiling oil and venomous snakes, and died
an evil death.
|
Brother and Sister
Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said,
since our mother died we have had no happiness. Our step-mother
beats us every day, and if we come near her she kicks us away
with her foot. Our meals are the hard crusts of bread that are
left over. And the little dog under the table is better off, for
she often throws it a choice morsel. God pity us, if our mother
only knew. Come, we will go forth together into the wide world.
They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and stony
places. And when it rained the little sister said, heaven and
our hearts are weeping together. In the evening they came to a
large forest, and they were so weary with sorrow and hunger and
the long walk, that they lay down in a hollow tree and fell
asleep. The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high
in the sky, and shone down hot into the tree. Then the brother
said, sister, I am thirsty. If I knew of a little brook I would
go and just take a drink. I think I hear one running. The
brother got up and took the little sister by the hand, and they
set off to find the brook. But the wicked step-mother was a
witch, and had seen how the two children had gone away, and had
crept after them secretly, as witches creep, and had bewitched
all the brooks in the forest.
Now when they found a little brook leaping brightly over the
stones, the brother was going to drink out of it, but the sister
heard how it said as it ran, who drinks of me will be a tiger.
Who drinks of me will be a tiger. Then the sister cried, pray,
dear brother, do not drink, or you will become a wild beast, and
tear me to pieces. The brother did not drink, although he was so
thirsty, but said, I will wait for the next spring.
When they came to the next brook the sister heard this also
say, who drinks of me will be a wolf. Who drinks of me will be a
wolf. Then the sister cried out, pray, dear brother, do not
drink, or you will become a wolf, and devour me. The brother did
not drink, and said, I will wait until we come to the next
spring, but then I must drink, say what you like. For my thirst
is too great. And when they came to the third brook the sister
heard how it said as it ran, who drinks of me will be a roebuck.
Who drinks of me will be a roebuck. The sister said, oh, I pray
you, dear brother, do not drink, or you will become a roebuck,
and run away from me. But the brother had knelt down at once by
the brook, and had bent down and drunk some of the water, and as
soon as the first drops touched his lips he lay there in the
form of a young roebuck.
And now the sister wept over her poor bewitched brother, and
the little roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully near to her. But
at last the girl said, be quiet, dear little roe, I will never,
never leave you.
Then she untied her golden garter and put it round the
roebuck's neck, and she plucked rushes and wove them into a soft
cord. This she tied to the little animal and led it on, and she
walked deeper and deeper into the forest.
And when they had gone a very long way they came at last to a
little house, and the girl looked in. And as it was empty, she
thought, we can stay here and live. Then she sought for leaves
and moss to make a soft bed for the roe. And every morning she
went out and gathered roots and berries and nuts for herself,
and brought tender grass for the roe, who ate out of her hand,
and was content and played round about her. In the evening, when
the sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head
upon the roebuck's back - that was her pillow, and she slept
softly on it. And if only the brother had had his human form it
would have been a delightful life. For some time they were alone
like this in the wilderness. But it happened that the king of
the country held a great hunt in the forest. Then the blasts of
the horns, the barking of dogs and the merry shouts of the
huntsmen rang through the trees, and the roebuck heard all, and
was only too anxious to be there. Oh, said he, to his sister,
let me be off to the hunt, I cannot bear it any longer, and he
begged so much that at last she agreed. But, said she to him,
come back to me in the evening. I must shut my door for fear of
the rough huntsmen, so knock and say, my little sister, let me
in, that I may know you. And if you do not say that, I shall not
open the door. Then the young roebuck sprang away. So happy was
he and so merry in the open air. The king and the huntsmen saw
the lovely animal, and started after him, but they could not
catch him, and when they thought that they surely had him, away
he sprang through the bushes and vanished. When it was dark he
ran to the cottage, knocked, and said, my little sister, let me
in. Then the door was opened for him, and he jumped in, and
rested himself the whole night through upon his soft bed. The
next day the hunt began again, and when the roebuck once more
heard the bugle-horn, and the ho. Ho. Of the huntsmen, he had no
peace, but said, sister, let me out, I must be off. His sister
opened the door for him, and said, but you must be here again in
the evening and say your pass-word. When the king and his
huntsmen again saw the young roebuck with the golden collar,
they all chased him, but he was too quick and nimble for them.
This lasted the whole day, but by the evening the huntsmen had
surrounded him, and one of them wounded him a little in the
foot, so that he limped and ran slowly. Then a hunter crept
after him to the cottage and heard how he said, my little
sister, let me in, and saw that the door was opened for him, and
was shut again at once. The huntsman took notice of it all, and
went to the king and told him what he had seen and heard. Then
the king said, to-morrow we will hunt once more. The little
sister, however, was dreadfully frightened when she saw that her
fawn was hurt. She washed the blood off him, laid herbs on the
wound, and said, go to your bed, dear roe, that you may get well
again. But the wound was so slight that the roebuck, next
morning, did not feel it any more. And when he again heard the
sport outside, he said, I cannot bear it, I must be there. They
shall not find it so easy to catch me. The sister cried, and
said, this time they will kill you, and here am I alone in the
forest and forsaken by all the world. I will not let you out.
Then you will have me die of grief, answered the roe. When I
hear the bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump out of my skin.
Then the sister could not do otherwise, but opened the door for
him with a heavy heart, and the roebuck, full of health and joy,
bounded into the forest. When the king saw him, he said to his
huntsmen, now chase him all day long till night-fall, but take
care that no one does him any harm. As soon as the sun had set,
the king said to the huntsman, now come and show me the cottage
in the wood. And when he was at the door, he knocked and called
out, dear little sister, let me in. Then the door opened, and
the king walked in, and there stood a maiden more lovely than
any he had ever seen. The maiden was frightened when she saw,
not her little roe, but a man come in who wore a golden crown
upon his head. But the king looked kindly at her, stretched out
his hand, and said, will you go with me to my palace and be my
dear wife. Yes, indeed, answered the maiden, but the little roe
must go with me, I cannot leave him. The king said, it shall
stay with you as long as you live, and shall want nothing. Just
then he came running in, and the sister again tied him with the
cord of rushes, took it in her own hand, and went away with the
king from the cottage. The king took the lovely maiden upon his
horse and carried her to his palace, where the wedding was held
with great pomp. She was now the queen, and they lived for a
long time happily together. The roebuck was tended and
cherished, and ran about in the palace-garden. But the wicked
step-mother, because of whom the children had gone out into the
world, had never thought but that the sister had been torn to
pieces by the wild beasts in the wood, and that the brother had
been shot for a roebuck by the huntsmen. Now when she heard that
they were so happy, and so well off, envy and jealousy rose in
her heart and left her no peace, and she thought of nothing but
how she could bring them again to misfortune. Her own daughter,
who was ugly as night, and had only one eye, reproached her and
said, a queen. That ought to have been my luck. Just be quiet,
answered the old woman, and comforted her by saying, when the
time comes I shall be ready. As time went on the queen had a
pretty little boy, and it happened that the king was out
hunting. So the old witch took the form of the chamber maid,
went into the room where the queen lay, and said to her, come
the bath is ready. It will do you good, and give you fresh
strength. Make haste before it gets cold. Her daughter also was
close by. So they carried the weakly queen into the bath-room,
and put her into the bath. Then they shut the door and ran away.
But in the bath-room they had made a fire of such hellish heat
that the beautiful young queen was soon suffocated. When this
was done the old woman took her daughter, put a nightcap on her
head, and laid her in bed in place of the queen. She gave her
too the shape and look of the queen, only she could not make
good the lost eye. But in order that the king might not see it,
she was to lie on the side on which she had no eye. In the
evening when he came home and heard that he had a son he was
heartily glad, and was going to the bed of his dear wife to see
how she was. But the old woman quickly called out, for your life
leave the curtains closed. The queen ought not to see the light
yet, and must have rest. The king went away, and did not find
out that a false queen was lying in the bed. But at midnight,
when all slept, the nurse, who was sitting in the nursery by the
cradle, and who was the only person awake, saw the door open and
the true queen walk in. She took the child out of the cradle,
laid it on her arm, and suckled it. Then she shook up its
pillow, laid the child down again, and covered it with the
little quilt. And she did not forget the roebuck, but went into
the corner where it lay, and stroked its back. Then she went
quite silently out of the door again. The next morning the nurse
asked the guards whether anyone had come into the palace during
the night, but they answered, no, we have seen no one. She came
thus many nights and never spoke a word. The nurse always saw
her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it. When some
time had passed in this manner, the queen began to speak in the
night, and said, how fares my child, how fares my roe. Twice
shall I come, then never more. The nurse did not answer, but
when the queen had gone again, went to the king and told him
all. The king said, ah, God. What is this. To-morrow night I
will watch by the child. In the evening he went into the
nursery, and at midnight the queen again appeared and said, how
fares my child, how fares my roe. Once will I come, then never
more. And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before she
disappeared. The king dared not speak to her, but on the next
night he watched again. Then she said, how fares my child, how
fares my roe. This time I come, then never more. Then the king
could not restrain himself. He sprang towards her, and said, you
can be none other than my dear wife. She answered, yes, I am
your dear wife, and at the same moment she received life again,
and by God's grace became fresh, rosy and full of health. Then
she told the king the evil deed which the wicked witch and her
daughter had been guilty of towards her. The king ordered both
to be led before the judge, and the judgment was delivered
against them. The daughter was taken into the forest where she
was torn to pieces by wild beasts, but the witch was cast into
the fire and miserably burnt. And as soon as she was burnt to
ashes, the roebuck changed his shape, and received his human
form again, so the sister and brother lived happily together all
their lives.
|
Rapunzel
There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished
for a child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to
grant her desire. These people had a little window at the back
of their house from which a splendid garden could be seen, which
was full of the most beautiful flowers and herbs. It was,
however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to go into
it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had great power
and was dreaded by all the world.
One day the woman was standing by this window and looking
down into the garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with
the most beautiful rampion - rapunzel, and it looked so fresh
and green that she longed for it, and had the greatest desire to
eat some. This desire increased every day, and as she knew that
she could not get any of it, she quite pined away, and began to
look pale and miserable. Then her husband was alarmed, and
asked, what ails you, dear wife. Ah, she replied, if I can't eat
some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, I
shall die.
The man, who loved her, thought, sooner than let your wife
die, bring her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost what it
will. At twilight, he clambered down over the wall into the
garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a handful of
rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself a
salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted so good to her - so
very good, that the next day she longed for it three times as
much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must
once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening,
therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had clambered
down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress
standing before him.
How can you dare, said she with angry look, descend into my
garden and steal my rampion like a thief. You shall suffer for
it. Ah, answered he, let mercy take the place of justice, I only
made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your
rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she
would have died if she had not got some to eat. Then the
enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and said to him,
if the case be as you say, I will allow you to take away with
you as much rampion as you will, only I make one condition, you
must give me the child which your wife will bring into the
world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a
mother.
The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the
woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave
the child the name of rapunzel, and took it away with her.
Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When
she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower,
which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but
quite at the top was a little window. When the enchantress
wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath it and cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair to me.
Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and
when she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her
braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window
above, and then the hair fell twenty ells down, and the
enchantress climbed up by it. After a year or two, it came to
pass that the king's son rode through the forest and passed by
the tower.
Then he heard a song, which was so charming that he stood
still and listened. This was rapunzel, who in her solitude
passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The king's
son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the
tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing
had so deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into
the forest and listened to it.
Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that an
enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried, rapunzel,
rapunzel, let down your hair. Then rapunzel let down the braids
of her hair, and the enchantress climbed up to her. If that is
the ladder by which one mounts, I too will try my fortune, said
he, and the next day when it began to grow dark, he went to the
tower and cried, rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair.
Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up.
At first rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as
her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her. But the king's son
began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his
heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and
he had been forced to see her. Then rapunzel lost her fear, and
when he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she
saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, he will love me
more than old dame gothel does. And she said yes, and laid her
hand in his. She said, I will willingly go away with you, but I
do not know how to get down.
Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you come, and
I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will
descend, and you will take me on your horse. They agreed that
until that time he should come to her every evening, for the old
woman came by day. The enchantress remarked nothing of this,
until once rapunzel said to her, tell me, dame gothel, how it
happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up than the
young king's son - he is with me in a moment. Ah.
You wicked child, cried the enchantress. What do I hear you
say. I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet
you have deceived me. In her anger she clutched rapunzel's
beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand,
seized a pair of scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they
were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. And she
was so pitiless that she took poor rapunzel into a desert where
she had to live in great grief and misery.
On the same day that she cast out rapunzel, however, the
enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off,
to the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and
cried, rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair, she let the hair
down. The king's son ascended, but instead of finding his
dearest rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him
with wicked and venomous looks. Aha, she cried mockingly, you
would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer
singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch out
your eyes as well.
Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see her again. The
king's son was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he
leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the
thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he wandered
quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries,
and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest
wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at
length came to the desert where rapunzel, with the twins to
which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in
wretchedness.
He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he
went towards it, and when he approached, rapunzel knew him and
fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and
they grew clear again, and he could see with them as before. He
led her to his kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they
lived for a long time afterwards, happy and contented.
|
The Three Little Men in the Wood
There was once a man whose wife died, and a woman whose
husband died, and the man had a daughter, and the woman also had
a daughter. The girls were acquainted with each other, and went
out walking together, and afterwards came to the woman in her
house. Then said she to the man's daughter, listen, tell your
father that I would like to marry him, and then you shall wash
yourself in milk every morning, and drink wine, but my own
daughter shall wash herself in water and drink water. The girl
went home, and told her father what the woman had said. The man
said, what shall I do. Marriage is a joy and also a torment. At
length as he could come to no decision, he pulled off his boot,
and said, take this boot, it has a hole in the sole of it. Go
with it up to the loft, hang it on the big nail, and then pour
water into it. If it hold the water, then I will again take a
wife, but if it run through, I will not. The girl did as she was
bid, but the water drew the hole together and the boot became
full to the top. She informed her father how it had turned out.
Then he himself went up, and when he saw that she was right, he
went to the widow and wooed her, and the wedding was celebrated.
The next morning, when the two girls got up, there stood before
the man's daughter milk for her to wash in and wine for her to
drink, but before the woman's daughter stood water to wash
herself with and water for drinking. On the second morning,
stood water for washing and water for drinking before the man's
daughter as well as before the woman's daughter. And on the
third morning stood water for washing and water for drinking
before the man's daughter, and milk for washing and wine for
drinking, before the woman's daughter, and so it continued. The
woman became her step-daughter's bitterest enemy, and day by day
did her best to treat her still worse. She was also envious
because her step-daughter was beautiful and lovable, and her own
daughter ugly and repulsive. Once, in winter, when everything
was frozen as hard as a stone, and hill and vale lay covered
with snow, the woman made a frock of paper, called her
step-daughter, and said, here, put on this dress and go out into
the wood, and fetch me a little basketful of strawberries - I
have a fancy for some. Good heavens, said the girl, no
strawberries grow in winter. The ground is frozen, and besides
the snow has covered everything. And why am I to go in this
paper frock. It is so cold outside that one's very breath
freezes. The wind will blow through the frock, and the thorns
tear it off my body. Will you contradict me, said the
step-mother. See that you go, and do not show your face again
until you have the basketful of strawberries. Then she gave her
a little piece of hard bread, and said, this will last you the
day, and thought, you will die of cold and hunger outside, and
will never be seen again by me. Then the maiden was obedient,
and put on the paper frock, and went out with the basket. Far
and wide there was nothing but snow, and not a green blade to be
seen. When she got into the wood she saw a small house out of
which peeped three little men. She wished them good day, and
knocked modestly at the door. They cried, come in, and she
entered the room and seated herself on the bench by the stove,
where she began to warm herself and eat her breakfast. The
little men said, give us some of it, too. Willingly, she said,
and divided her piece of bread in two 'and gave them the half.
They asked, what do you here in the forest in the winter time,
in your thin dress. Ah, she answered, I am to look for a
basketful of strawberries, and am not to go home until I can
take them with me. When she had eaten her bread, they gave her a
broom and said, sweep away the snow at the back door. But when
she was outside, the three little men said to each other, what
shall we give her as she is so good, and has shared her bread
with us. Then said the first, my gift is, that she shall every
day grow more beautiful. The second said, my gift is, that gold
pieces shall fall out of her mouth every time she speaks. The
third said, my gift is, that a king shall come and take her to
wife. The girl, however, did as the little men had bidden her,
swept away the snow behind the little house with the broom, and
what did she find but real ripe strawberries, which came up
quite dark-red out of the snow. In her joy she hastily gathered
her basket full, thanked the little men, shook hands with each
of them, and ran home to take her step-mother what she had
longed for so much. When she went in and said good-evening, a
piece of gold at once fell out of her mouth. Thereupon she
related what had happened to her in the wood, but with every
word she spoke, gold pieces fell from her mouth, until very soon
the whole room was covered with them. Now look at her arrogance,
cried the step-sister, to throw about gold in that way. But she
was secretly envious of it, and wanted to go into the forest
also to seek strawberries. The mother said, no, my dear little
daughter, it is too cold, you might freeze to death. However, as
her daughter let her have no peace, the mother at last yielded,
made her a magnificent coat of fur, which she was obliged to put
on, and gave her bread-and-butter and cake for her journey. The
girl went into the forest and straight up to the little house.
The three little men peeped out again, but she did not greet
them, and without looking round at them and without speaking to
them, she went awkwardly into the room, seated herself by the
stove, and began to eat her bread-and-butter and cake. Give us
some of it, cried the little men. But she replied, there is not
enough for myself, so how can I give it away to other people.
When she had finished eating, they said, there is a broom for
you, sweep it all clean in front of the back-door. Sweep for
yourselves, she answered, I am not your servant. When she saw
that they were not going to give her anything, she went out by
the door. Then the little men said to each other, what shall we
give her as she is so naughty, and has a wicked envious heart,
that will never let her do a good turn to any one. The first
said, I grant that she may grow uglier every day. The second
said, I grant that at every word she says, a toad shall spring
out of her mouth. The third said, I grant that she may die a
miserable death. The maiden looked for strawberries outside, but
as she found none, she went angrily home. And when she opened
her mouth, and was about to tell her mother what had happened to
her in the wood, with every word she said, a toad sprang out of
her mouth, so that everyone was seized with horror of her. Then
the step-mother was still more enraged, and thought of nothing
but how to do every possible injury to the man's daughter, whose
beauty, however, grew daily greater. At length she took a
cauldron, set it on the fire, and boiled yarn in it. When it was
boiled, she flung it on the poor girl's shoulder, and gave her
an axe in order that she might go on the frozen river, cut a
hole in the ice, and rinse the yarn. She was obedient, went
thither and cut a hole in the ice. And while she was in the
midst of her cutting, a splendid carriage came driving up, in
which sat the king. The carriage stopped, and the king asked, my
child, who are you, and what are you doing here. I am a poor
girl, and I am rinsing yarn. Then the king felt compassion, and
when he saw that she was so very beautiful, he said to her, will
you go away with me. Ah, yes, with all my heart, she answered,
for she was glad to get away from the mother and sister. So she
got into the carriage and drove away with the king, and when
they arrived at his palace, the wedding was celebrated with
great pomp, as the little men had granted to the maiden. When a
year was over, the young queen bore a son, and as the
step-mother had heard of her great good-fortune, she came with
her daughter to the palace and pretended that she wanted to pay
her a visit. But, when the king had gone out, and no one else
was present, the wicked woman seized the queen by the head, and
her daughter seized her by the feet, and they lifted her out of
the bed, and threw her out of the window into the stream which
flowed by. Then the ugly daughter laid herself in the bed, and
the old woman covered her up over her head. When the king came
home again and wanted to speak to his wife, the old woman cried,
hush, hush, that can't be now, she is lying in a violent sweat.
You must let her rest to-day. The king suspected no evil, and
did not come back again till next morning. And as he talked with
his wife and she answered him, with every word a toad leaped
out, whereas formerly a piece of gold had fallen. Then he asked
what that could be, but the old woman said that she had got that
from the violent sweat, and would soon lose it again. During the
night, however, the scullion saw a duck come swimming up the
gutter, and it said - king, what art thou doing now. Sleepest
thou, or wakest thou. And as he returned no answer, it said -
and my guests, what may they do. The scullion said - they are
sleeping soundly, too. Then it asked again - what does little
baby mine. He answered - sleepeth in her cradle fine. Then she
went upstairs in the form of the queen, nursed the baby, shook
up its little bed, covered it over, and then swam away again
down the gutter in the shape of a duck. She came thus for two
nights. On the third, she said to the scullion, go and tell the
king to take his sword and swing it three times over me on the
threshold. Then the scullion ran and told this to the king, who
came with his sword and swung it thrice over the spirit, and at
the third time, his wife stood before him strong, living, and
healthy as she had been before. Thereupon the king was full of
great joy, but he kept the queen hidden in a chamber until the
sunday, when the baby was to be christened. And when it was
christened he said, what does a person deserve who drags another
out of bed and throws him in the water. The wretch deserves
nothing better, answered the old woman, than to be taken and put
in a barrel stuck full of nails, and rolled down hill into the
water. Then, said the king, you have pronounced your own
sentence. And he ordered such a barrel to be brought, and the
old woman to be put into it with her daughter, and then the top
was hammered on, and the barrel rolled down hill until it went
into the river.
|
Hansel and Grethel
Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife
and his two children. The boy was called Hansel and the girl
Gretel. He had little to bite and to break, and once when great
dearth fell on the land, he could no longer procure even daily
bread. Now when he thought over this by night in his bed, and
tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife,
what is to become of us. How are we to feed our poor children,
when we no longer have anything even for ourselves. I'll tell
you what, husband, answered the woman, early to-morrow morning
we will take the children out into the forest to where it is the
thickest. There we will light a fire for them, and give each of
them one more piece of bread, and then we will go to our work
and leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and
we shall be rid of them. No, wife, said the man, I will not do
that. How can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest.
The wild animals would soon come and tear them to pieces. O' you
fool, said she, then we must all four die of hunger, you may as
well plane the planks for our coffins, and she left him no peace
until he consented. But I feel very sorry for the poor children,
all the same, said the man.
The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger,
and had heard what their step-mother had said to their father.
Gretel wept bitter tears, and said to Hansel, now all is over
with us. Be quiet, Gretel, said Hansel, do not distress
yourself, I will soon find a way to help us. And when the old
folks had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his little coat,
opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon shone
brightly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house
glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel stooped and stuffed
the little pocket of his coat with as many as he could get in.
Then he went back and said to Gretel, be comforted, dear little
sister, and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us, and he lay
down again in his bed. When day dawned, but before the sun had
risen, the woman came and awoke the two children, saying get up,
you sluggards. We are going into the forest to fetch wood. She
gave each a little piece of bread, and said, there is something
for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you will
get nothing else. Gretel took the bread under her apron, as
Hansel had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all set out
together on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short
time, Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did
so again and again. His father said, Hansel, what are you
looking at there and staying behind for. Pay attention, and do
not forget how to use your legs. Ah, father, said Hansel, I am
looking at my little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof,
and wants to say good-bye to me. The wife said, fool, that is
not your little cat, that is the morning sun which is shining on
the chimneys. Hansel, however, had not been looking back at the
cat, but had been constantly throwing one of the white
pebble-stones out of his pocket on the road.
When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father
said, now, children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire
that you may not be cold. Hansel and Gretel gathered brushwood
together, as high as a little hill. The brushwood was lighted,
and when the flames were burning very high, the woman said, now,
children, lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go
into the forest and cut some wood. When we have done, we will
come back and fetch you away.
Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each
ate a little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of
the wood-axe they believed that their father was near. It was
not the axe, however, but a branch which he had fastened to a
withered tree which the wind was blowing backwards and forwards.
And as they had been sitting such a long time, their eyes closed
with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When at last they
awoke, it was already dark night. Gretel began to cry and said,
how are we to get out of the forest now. But Hansel comforted
her and said, just wait a little, until the moon has risen, and
then we will soon find the way. And when the full moon had
risen, Hansel took his little sister by the hand, and followed
the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver pieces, and
showed them the way.
They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came
once more to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and
when the woman opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Gretel,
she said, you naughty children, why have you slept so long in
the forest. We thought you were never coming back at all. The
father, however, rejoiced, for it had cut him to the heart to
leave them behind alone.
Not long afterwards, there was once more great dearth
throughout the land, and the children heard their mother saying
at night to their father, everything is eaten again, we have one
half loaf left, and that is the end. The children must go, we
will take them farther into the wood, so that they will not find
their way out again. There is no other means of saving
ourselves. The man's heart was heavy, and he thought, it would
be better for you to share the last mouthful with your children.
The woman, however, would listen to nothing that he had to say,
but scolded and reproached him. He who says a must say b,
likewise, and as he had yielded the first time, he had to do so
a second time also.
The children, however, were still awake and had heard the
conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got
up, and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles as he had done
before, but the woman had locked the door, and Hansel could not
get out. Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said,
do not cry, Gretel, go to sleep quietly, the good God will help
us. Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children
out of their beds. Their piece of bread was given to them, but
it was still smaller than the time before. On the way into the
forest Hansel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still
and threw a morsel on the ground. Hansel, why do you stop and
look round. Said the father, go on. I am looking back at my
little pigeon which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say
good-bye to me, answered Hansel. Fool. Said the woman, that is
not your little pigeon, that is the morning sun that is shining
on the chimney. Hansel, however, little by little, threw all the
crumbs on the path. The woman led the children still deeper into
the forest, where they had never in their lives been before.
Then a great fire was again made, and the mother said, just sit
there, you children, and when you are tired you may sleep a
little. We are going into the forest to cut wood, and in the
evening when we are done, we will come and fetch you away. When
it was noon, Gretel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who
had scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening
passed, but no one came to the poor children. They did not awake
until it was dark night, and Hansel comforted his little sister
and said, just wait, Gretel, until the moon rises, and then we
shall see the crumbs of bread which I have strewn about, they
will show us our way home again. When the moon came they set
out, but they found no crumbs, for the many thousands of birds
which fly about in the woods and fields had picked them all up.
Hansel said to Gretel, we shall soon find the way, but they did
not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day
too from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the
forest, and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but
two or three berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were
so weary that their legs would carry them no longer, they lay
down beneath a tree and fell asleep.
It was now three mornings since they had left their father's
house. They began to walk again, but they always came deeper
into the forest, and if help did not come soon, they must die of
hunger and weariness. When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful
snow-white bird sitting on a bough, which sang so delightfully
that they stood still and listened to it. And when its song was
over, it spread its wings and flew away before them, and they
followed it until they reached a little house, on the roof of
which it alighted. And when they approached the little house
they saw that it was built of bread and covered with cakes, but
that the windows were of clear sugar. We will set to work on
that, said Hansel, and have a good meal. I will eat a bit of the
roof, and you Gretel, can eat some of the window, it will taste
sweet. Hansel reached up above, and broke off a little of the
roof to try how it tasted, and Gretel leant against the window
and nibbled at the panes. Then a soft voice cried from the
parlor - nibble, nibble, gnaw who is nibbling at my little
house. The children answered - the wind, the wind, the
heaven-born wind, and went on eating without disturbing
themselves. Hansel, who liked the taste of the roof, tore down a
great piece of it, and Gretel pushed out the whole of one round
window-pane, sat down, and enjoyed herself with it. Suddenly the
door opened, and a woman as old as the hills, who supported
herself on crutches, came creeping out. Hansel and Gretel were
so terribly frightened that they let fall what they had in their
hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said, oh,
you dear children, who has brought you here. Do come in, and
stay with me. No harm shall happen to you. She took them both by
the hand, and led them into her little house. Then good food was
set before them, milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and
nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds were covered with clean
white linen, and Hansel and Gretel lay down in them, and thought
they were in heaven.
The old woman had only pretended to be so kind. She was in
reality a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had
only built the little house of bread in order to entice them
there. When a child fell into her power, she killed it, cooked
and ate it, and that was a feast day with her. Witches have red
eyes, and cannot see far, but they have a keen scent like the
beasts, and are aware when human beings draw near. When Hansel
and Gretel came into her neighborhood, she laughed with malice,
and said mockingly, I have them, they shall not escape me again.
Early in the morning before the children were awake, she was
already up, and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking
so pretty, with their plump and rosy cheeks, she muttered to
herself, that will be a dainty mouthful.
Then she seized Hansel with her shrivelled hand, carried him
into a little stable, and locked him in behind a grated door.
Scream as he might, it would not help him. Then she went to
Gretel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, get up, lazy thing,
fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother, he
is in the stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat,
I will eat him. Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in
vain, for she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded.
And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel got
nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the
little stable, and cried, Hansel, stretch out your finger that I
may feel if you will soon be fat. Hansel, however, stretched out
a little bone to her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could
not see it, and thought it was Hansel's finger, and was
astonished that there was no way of fattening him. When four
weeks had gone by, and Hansel still remained thin, she was
seized with impatience and would not wait any longer. Now, then,
Gretel, she cried to the girl, stir yourself, and bring some
water. Let Hansel be fat or lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and
cook him. Ah, how the poor little sister did lament when she had
to fetch the water, and how her tears did flow down her cheeks.
Dear God, do help us, she cried. If the wild beasts in the
forest had but devoured us, we should at any rate have died
together. Just keep your noise to yourself, said the old woman,
it won't help you at all.
Early in the morning, Gretel had to go out and hang up the
cauldron with the water, and light the fire. We will bake first,
said the old woman, I have already heated the oven, and kneaded
the dough. She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven, from which
flames of fire were already darting. Creep in, said the witch,
and see if it properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.
And once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and
let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. But Gretel
saw what she had in mind, and said, I do not know how I am to do
it. How do I get in. Silly goose, said the old woman, the door
is big enough. Just look, I can get in myself, and she crept up
and thrust her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a push
that drove her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened
the bolt. Oh. Then she began to howl quite horribly, but Gretel
ran away, and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death.
Gretel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little
stable, and cried, Hansel, we are saved. The old witch is dead.
Then Hansel sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is
opened. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance
about and kiss each other. And as they had no longer any need to
fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in every corner
there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. These are far
better than pebbles. Said Hansel, and thrust into his pockets
whatever could be got in, and Gretel said, I, too, will take
something home with me, and filled her pinafore full. But now we
must be off, said Hansel, that we may get out of the witch's
forest.
When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great
stretch of water. We cannot cross, said Hansel, I see no
foot-plank, and no bridge. And there is also no ferry, answered
Gretel, but a white duck is swimming there. If I ask her, she
will help us over. Then she cried - little duck, little duck,
dost thou see, Hansel and Gretel are waiting for thee. There's
never a plank, or bridge in sight, take us across on thy back so
white. The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its
back, and told his sister to sit by him. No, replied Gretel,
that will be too heavy for the little duck. She shall take us
across, one after the other. The good little duck did so, and
when they were once safely across and had walked for a short
time, the forest seemed to be more and more familiar to them,
and at length they saw from afar their father's house. Then they
began to run, rushed into the parlor, and threw themselves round
their father's neck. The man had not known one happy hour since
he had left the children in the forest. The woman, however, was
dead. Gretel emptied her pinafore until pearls and precious
stones ran about the room, and Hansel threw one handful after
another out of his pocket to add to them. Then all anxiety was
at an end, and they lived together in perfect happiness. My tale
is done, there runs a mouse, whosoever catches it, may make
himself a big fur cap out of it.
|
The Three Snake-Leaves
There was once on a time a poor man, who could no longer
support his only son. Then said the son, dear father, things go
so badly with us that I am a burden to you. I would rather go
away and see how I can earn my bread. So the father gave him his
blessing, and with great sorrow took leave of him. At this time
the king of a mighty empire was at war and the youth took
service with him, and went out to fight. And when he came before
the enemy, there was a battle, and great danger, and it rained
shot until his comrades fell on all sides, and when the leader
also was killed, those left were about to take flight, but the
youth stepped forth, spoke boldly to them, and cried, we will
not let our father-land be ruined. Then the others followed him,
and he pressed on and conquered the enemy. When the king heard
that he owed the victory to him alone, he raised him above all
the others, gave him great treasures, and made him the first in
the kingdom.
The king had a daughter who was very beautiful, but she was
also very strange. She had made a vow to take no one as her lord
and husband who did not promise to let himself be buried alive
with her if she died first. If he loves me with all his heart,
said she, of what use will life be to him afterwards. On her
side she would do the same, and if he died first, would go down
to the grave with him. This strange oath had up to this time
frightened away all wooers, but the youth became so charmed with
her beauty that he cared for nothing, but asked her father for
her. But do you know what you must promise, said the king. I
must be buried with her, he replied, if I outlive her, but my
love is so great that I do not mind the danger. Then the king
consented, and the wedding was solemnized with great splendor.
They lived now for a while happy and contented with each
other, and then it befell that the young queen was attacked by a
severe illness, and no physician could save her. And as she lay
there dead, the young king remembered what he had been obliged
to promise, and was horrified at having to lie down alive in the
grave, but there was no escape. The king had placed sentries at
all the gates, and it was not possible to avoid his fate. As the
day came when the corpse was to be buried, he was taken down
with it into the royal vault and then the door was shut and
bolted.
Near the coffin stood a table on which were four candles,
four loaves of bread, and four bottles of wine, and when this
provision came to an end, he would have to die of hunger. And
now he sat there full of pain and grief, ate every day only a
little piece of bread, drank only a mouthful of wine, and
nevertheless saw death daily drawing nearer. Whilst he thus
gazed before him, he saw a snake creep out of a corner of the
vault and approach the dead body. And as he thought it came to
gnaw at it, he drew his sword and said, as long as I live, you
shall not touch her, and hewed the snake in three pieces. After
a time a second snake crept out of the hole, and when it saw the
other lying dead and cut in pieces, it went back, but soon came
again with three green leaves in its mouth. Then it took the
three pieces of the snake, laid them together, as they fitted,
and placed one of the leaves on each wound. Immediately the
severed parts joined themselves together, the snake moved, and
became alive again, and both of them hastened away together. The
leaves were left lying on the ground, and a desire came into the
mind of the unhappy man who had been watching all this, to know
if the wondrous power of the leaves which had brought the snake
to life again, could not likewise be of service to a human
being.
So he picked up the leaves and laid one of them on the mouth
of his dead wife, and the two others on her eyes. And hardly had
he done this than the blood stirred in her veins, rose into her
pale face, and colored it again. Then she drew breath, opened
her eyes, and said, ah, God, where am I. You are with me, dear
wife, he answered, and told her how everything had happened, and
how he had brought her back again to life. Then he gave her some
wine and bread, and when she had regained her strength, he
raised her up and they went to the door and knocked, and called
so loudly that the sentries heard it, and told the king. The
king came down himself and opened the door, and there he found
both strong and well, and rejoiced with them that now all sorrow
was over. The young king, however, took the three snake-leaves
with him, gave them to a servant and said, keep them for me
carefully, and carry them constantly about you. Who knows in
what trouble they may yet be of service to us.
But a change had taken place in his wife. After she had been
restored to life, it seemed as if all love for her husband had
gone out of her heart. After some time, when he wanted to make a
voyage over the sea, to visit his old father, and they had gone
on board a ship, she forgot the great love and fidelity which he
had shown her, and which had been the means of rescuing her from
death, and conceived a wicked inclination for the skipper. And
once when the young king lay there asleep, she called in the
skipper and seized the sleeper by the head, and the skipper took
him by the feet, and thus they threw him down into the sea. When
the shameful deed was done, she said, now let us return home,
and say that he died on the way. I will extol and praise you so
to my father that he will marry me to you, and make you the heir
to his crown. But the faithful servant who had seen all that
they did, unseen by them, unfastened a little boat from the
ship, got into it, sailed after his master, and let the traitors
go on their way. He fished up the dead body, and by the help of
the three snake-leaves which he carried about with him, and laid
on the eyes and mouth, he fortunately brought the young king
back to life.
They both rowed with all their strength day and night, and
their little boat sailed so swiftly that they reached the old
king before the others. He was astonished when he saw them come
alone, and asked what had happened to them. When he learnt the
wickedness of his daughter he said, I cannot believe that she
has behaved so ill, but the truth will soon come to light, and
bade both go into a secret chamber and keep themselves hidden
from everyone. Soon afterwards the great ship came sailing in,
and the godless woman appeared before her father with a troubled
countenance. He said, why do you come back alone. Where is your
husband. Ah, dear father, she replied, I come home again in
great grief. During the voyage, my husband became suddenly ill
and died, and if the good skipper had not given me his help, it
would have gone ill with me. He was present at his death, and
can tell you all. The king said, I will make the dead alive
again, and opened the chamber, and bade the two come out. When
the woman saw her husband, she was thunderstruck, and fell on
her knees and begged for mercy.
The king said, there is no mercy. He was ready to die with
you and restored you to life again, but you have murdered him in
his sleep, and shall receive the reward that you deserve. Then
she was placed with her accomplice in a ship which had been
pierced with holes, and sent out to sea, where they soon sank
amid the waves.
|
The White Snake
A long time ago there lived a king who was famed for his
wisdom through all the land. Nothing was hidden from him, and it
seemed as if news of the most secret things was brought to him
through the air. But he had a strange custom, every day after
dinner, when the table was cleared, and no one else was present,
a trusty servant had to bring him one more dish. It was covered,
however, and even the servant did not know what was in it,
neither did anyone know, for the king never took off the cover
to eat of it until he was quite alone. This had gone on for a
long time, when one day the servant, who took away the dish, was
overcome with such curiosity that he could not help carrying the
dish into his room. When he had carefully locked the door, he
lifted up the cover, and saw a white snake lying on the dish.
But when he saw it he could not deny himself the pleasure of
tasting it, so he cut off a little bit and put it into his
mouth. No sooner had it touched his tongue than he heard a
strange whispering of little voices outside his window. He went
and listened, and then noticed that it was the sparrows who were
chattering together, and telling one another of all kinds of
things which they had seen in the fields and woods. Eating the
snake had given him power of understanding the language of
animals. Now it so happened that on this very day the queen lost
her most beautiful ring, and suspicion of having stolen it fell
upon this trusty servant, who was allowed to go everywhere. The
king ordered the man to be brought before him, and threatened
with angry words that unless he could before the morrow point
out the thief, he himself should be looked upon as guilty and
executed. In vain he declared his innocence, he was dismissed
with no better answer. In his trouble and fear he went down into
the courtyard and took thought how to help himself out of his
trouble. Now some ducks were sitting together quietly by a brook
and taking their rest, and, whilst they were making their
feathers smooth with their bills, they were having a
confidential conversation together. The servant stood by and
listened. They were telling one another of all the places where
they had been waddling about all the morning, and what good food
they had found, and one said in a pitiful tone, something lies
heavy on my stomach, as I was eating in haste I swallowed a ring
which lay under the queen's window. The servant at once seized
her by the neck, carried her to the kitchen, and said to the
cook, here is a fine duck, pray, kill her. Yes, said the cook,
and weighed her in his hand, she has spared no trouble to fatten
herself, and has been waiting to be roasted long enough. So he
cut off her head, and as she was being dressed for the spit, the
queen's ring was found inside her. The servant could now easily
prove his innocence, and the king, to make amends for the wrong,
allowed him to ask a favor, and promised him the best place in
the court that he could wish for. The servant refused
everything, and only asked for a horse and some money for
traveling, as he had a mind to see the world and go about a
little. When his request was granted he set out on his way, and
one day came to a pond, where he saw three fishes caught in the
reeds and gasping for water. Now, though it is said that fishes
are dumb, he heard them lamenting that they must perish so
miserably, and, as he had a kind heart, he got off his horse and
put the three prisoners back into the water. They leapt with
delight, put out their heads, and cried to him, we will remember
you and repay you for saving us. He rode on, and after a while
it seemed to him that he heard a voice in the sand at his feet.
He listened, and heard an ant-king complain, why cannot folks,
with their clumsy beasts, keep off our bodies. That stupid
horse, with his heavy hoofs, has been treading down my people
without mercy. So he turned on to a side path and the ant-king
cried out to him, we will remember you - one good turn deserves
another. The path led him into a wood, and here he saw two old
ravens standing by their nest, and throwing out their young
ones. Out with you, you idle, good-for-nothing creatures, cried
they, we cannot find food for you any longer, you are big
enough, and can provide for yourselves. But the poor young
ravens lay upon the ground, flapping their wings, and crying,
oh, what helpless chicks we are. We must shift for ourselves,
and yet we cannot fly. What can we do, but lie here and starve.
So the good young fellow alighted and killed his horse with his
sword, and gave it to them for food. Then they came hopping up
to it, satisfied their hunger, and cried, we will remember you -
one good turn deserves another. And now he had to use his own
legs, and when he had walked a long way, he came to a large
city. There was a great noise and crowd in the streets, and a
man rode up on horseback, crying aloud, the king's daughter
wants a husband, but whoever seeks her hand must perform a hard
task, and if he does not succeed he will forfeit his life. Many
had already made the attempt, but in vain, nevertheless when the
youth saw the king's daughter he was so overcome by her great
beauty that he forgot all danger, went before the king, and
declared himself a suitor. So he was led out to the sea, and a
gold ring was thrown into it, before his eyes, then the king
ordered him to fetch this ring up from the bottom of the sea,
and added, if you come up again without it you will be thrown in
again and again until you perish amid the waves. All the people
grieved for the handsome youth, then they went away, leaving him
alone by the sea. He stood on the shore and considered what he
should do, when suddenly he saw three fishes come swimming
towards him, and they were the very fishes whose lives he had
saved. The one in the middle held a mussel in its mouth, which
it laid on the shore at the youth's feet, and when he had taken
it up and opened it, there lay the gold ring in the shell. Full
of joy he took it to the king, and expected that he would grant
him the promised reward. But when the proud princess perceived
that he was not her equal in birth, she scorned him, and
required him first to perform another task. She went down into
the garden and strewed with her own hands ten sacks-full of
millet-seed on the grass, then she said, tomorrow morning before
sunrise these must be picked up, and not a single grain be
wanting. The youth sat down in the garden and considered how it
might be possible to perform this task, but he could think of
nothing, and there he sat sorrowfully awaiting the break of day,
when he should be led to death. But as soon as the first rays of
the sun shone into the garden he saw all the ten sacks standing
side by side, quite full, and not a single grain was missing.
The ant-king had come in the night with thousands and thousands
of ants, and the grateful creatures had by great industry picked
up all the millet-seed and gathered them into the sacks.
Presently the king's daughter herself came down into the garden,
and was amazed to see that the young man had done the task she
had given him. But she could not yet conquer her proud heart,
and said, although he has performed both the tasks, he shall not
be my husband until he has brought me an apple from the tree of
life. The youth did not know where the tree of life stood, but
he set out, and would have gone on for ever, as long as his legs
would carry him, though he had no hope of finding it. After he
had wandered through three kingdoms, he came one evening to a
wood, and lay down under a tree to sleep. But he heard a
rustling in the branches, and a golden apple fell into his hand.
At the same time three ravens flew down to him, perched
themselves upon his knee, and said, we are the three young
ravens whom you saved from starving, when we had grown big, and
heard that you were seeking the golden apple, we flew over the
sea to the end of the world, where the tree of life stands, and
have brought you the apple. The youth, full of joy, set out
homewards, and took the golden apple to the king's beautiful
daughter, who had no more excuses left to make. They cut the
apple of life in two and ate it together, and then her heart
became full of love for him, and they lived in undisturbed
happiness to a great age.
|
The Valiant Little Tailor
One summer's morning a little tailor was sitting on his table
by the window, he was in good spirits, and sewed with all his
might. Then came a peasant woman down the street crying, good
jams, cheap. Good jams, cheap. This rang pleasantly in the
tailor's ears, he stretched his delicate head out of the window,
and called, come up here, dear woman, here you will get rid of
your goods. The woman came up the three steps to the tailor with
her heavy basket, and he made her unpack all the pots for him.
He inspected each one, lifted it up, put his nose to it, and at
length said, the jam seems to me to be good, so weigh me out
four ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of a pound that
is of no consequence. The woman who had hoped to find a good
sale, gave him what he desired, but went away quite angry and
grumbling. Now, this jam shall be blessed by God, cried the
little tailor, and give me health and strength. So he brought
the bread out of the cupboard, cut himself a piece right across
the loaf and spread the jam over it. This won't taste bitter,
said he, but I will just finish the jacket before I take a bite.
He laid the bread near him, sewed on, and in his joy, made
bigger and bigger stitches. In the meantime the smell of the
sweet jam rose to where the flies were sitting in great numbers,
and they were attracted and descended on it in hosts. HI, who
invited you, said the little tailor, and drove the unbidden
guests away. The flies, however, who understood no german, would
not be turned away, but came back again in ever-increasing
companies. The little tailor at last lost all patience, and drew
a piece of cloth from the hole under his work-table, and saying,
wait, and I will give it to you, struck it mercilessly on them.
When he drew it away and counted, there lay before him no fewer
than seven, dead and with legs stretched out. Are you a fellow
of that sort, said he, and could not help admiring his own
bravery. The whole town shall know of this. And the little
tailor hastened to cut himself a girdle, stitched it, and
embroidered on it in large letters, seven at one stroke. What,
the town, he continued, the whole world shall hear of it. And
his heart wagged with joy like a lamb's tail. The tailor put on
the girdle, and resolved to go forth into the world, because he
thought his workshop was too small for his valor. Before he went
away, he sought about in the house to see if there was anything
which he could take with him, however, he found nothing but an
old cheese, and that he put in his pocket. In front of the door
he observed a bird which had caught itself in the thicket. It
had to go into his pocket with the cheese. Now he took to the
road boldly, and as he was light and nimble, he felt no fatigue.
The road led him up a mountain, and when he had reached the
highest point of it, there sat a powerful giant looking
peacefully about him. The little tailor went bravely up, spoke
to him, and said, good day, comrade, so you are sitting there
overlooking the wide-spread world. I am just on my way thither,
and want to try my luck. Have you any inclination to go with me.
The giant looked contemptuously at the tailor, and said, you
ragamuffin. You miserable creature. Oh, indeed, answered the
little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat, and showed the giant the
girdle, there may you read what kind of a man I am. The giant
read, seven at one stroke. And thought that they had been men
whom the tailor had killed, and began to feel a little respect
for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he wished to try him first,
and took a stone in his hand and squeezed it together so that
water dropped out of it. Do that likewise, said the giant, if
you have strength. Is that all, said the tailor, that is child's
play with us, and put his hand into his pocket, brought out the
soft cheese, and pressed it until the liquid ran out of it.
Faith, said he, that was a little better, wasn't it. The giant
did not know what to say, and could not believe it of the little
man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high that
the eye could scarcely follow it. Now, little mite of a man, do
that likewise. Well thrown, said the tailor, but after all the
stone came down to earth again, I will throw you one which shall
never come back at all. And he put his hand into his pocket,
took out the bird, and threw it into the air. The bird,
delighted with its liberty, rose, flew away and did not come
back. How does that shot please you, comrade, asked the tailor.
You can certainly throw, said the giant, but now we will see if
you are able to carry anything properly. He took the little
tailor to a mighty oak tree which lay there felled on the
ground, and said, if you are strong enough, help me to carry the
tree out of the forest. Readily, answered the little man, take
the trunk on your shoulders, and I will raise up the branches
and twigs, after all, they are the heaviest. The giant took the
trunk on his shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a
branch, and the giant who could not look round, had to carry
away the whole tree, and the little tailor into the bargain, he
behind, was quite merry and happy, and whistled the song, three
tailors rode forth from the gate, as if carrying the tree were
child's play. The giant, after he had dragged the heavy burden
part of the way, could go no further, and cried, hark you, I
shall have to let the tree fall. The tailor sprang nimbly down,
seized the tree with both arms as if he had been carrying it,
and said to the giant, you are such a great fellow, and yet can
not even carry the tree. They went on together, and as they
passed a cherry-tree, the giant laid hold of the top of the tree
where the ripest fruit was hanging, bent it down, gave it into
the tailor's hand, and bade him eat. But the little tailor was
much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let it go, it
sprang back again, and the tailor was tossed into the air with
it. When he had fallen down again without injury, the giant
said, what is this. Have you not strength enough to hold the
weak twig. There is no lack of strength, answered the little
tailor. Do you think that could be anything to a man who has
struck down seven at one blow. I leapt over the tree because the
huntsmen are shooting down there in the thicket. Jump as I did,
if you can do it. The giant made the attempt, but could not get
over the tree, and remained hanging in the branches, so that in
this also the tailor kept the upper hand. The giant said, if you
are such a valiant fellow, come with me into our cavern and
spend the night with us. The little tailor was willing, and
followed him. When they went into the cave, other giants were
sitting there by the fire, and each of them had a roasted sheep
in his hand and was eating it. The little tailor looked round
and thought, it is much more spacious here than in my workshop.
The giant showed him a bed, and said he was to lie down in it
and sleep. The bed, however, was too big for the little tailor,
he did not lie down in it, but crept into a corner. When it was
midnight, and the giant thought that the little tailor was lying
in a sound sleep, he got up, took a great iron bar, cut through
the bed with one blow, and thought he had finished off the
grasshopper for good. With the earliest dawn the giants went
into the forest, and had quite forgotten the little tailor, when
all at once he walked up to them quite merrily and boldly. The
giants were terrified, they were afraid that he would strike
them all dead, and ran away in a great hurry. The little tailor
went onwards, always following his own pointed nose. After he
had walked for a long time, he came to the courtyard of a royal
palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down on the grass and fell
asleep. Whilst he lay there, the people came and inspected him
on all sides, and read on his girdle, seven at one stroke. Ah,
said they, what does the great warrior here in the midst of
peace. He must be a mighty lord. They went and announced him to
the king, and gave it as their opinion that if war should break
out, this would be a weighty and useful man who ought on no
account to be allowed to depart. The counsel pleased the king,
and he sent one of his courtiers to the little tailor to offer
him military service when he awoke. The ambassador remained
standing by the sleeper, waited until he stretched his limbs and
opened his eyes, and then conveyed to him this proposal. For
this reason have I come here, the tailor replied, I am ready to
enter the king's service. He was therefore honorably received
and a special dwelling was assigned him. The soldiers, however,
were set against the little tailor, and wished him a thousand
miles away. What is to be the end of this, they said among
themselves. If we quarrel with him, and he strikes about him,
seven of us will fall at every blow, not one of us can stand
against him. They came therefore to a decision, betook
themselves in a body to the king, and begged for their
dismissal. We are not prepared, said they, to stay with a man
who kills seven at one stroke. The king was sorry that for the
sake of one he should lose all his faithful servants, wished
that he had never set eyes on the tailor, and would willingly
have been rid of him again. But he did not venture to give him
his dismissal, for he dreaded lest he should strike him and all
his people dead, and place himself on the royal throne. He
thought about it for a long time, and at last found good
counsel. He sent to the little tailor and caused him to be
informed that as he was such a great warrior, he had one request
to make of him. In a forest of his country lived two giants who
caused great mischief with their robbing, murdering, ravaging,
and burning, and no one could approach them without putting
himself in danger of death. If the tailor conquered and killed
these two giants, he would give him his only daughter to wife,
and half of his kingdom as a dowry, likewise one hundred
horsemen should go with him to assist him. That would indeed be
a fine thing for a man like me, thought the little tailor. One
is not offered a beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day
of one's life. Oh, yes, he replied, I will soon subdue the
giants, and do not require the help of the hundred horsemen to
do it, he who can hit seven with one blow has no need to be
afraid of two. The little tailor went forth, and the hundred
horsemen followed him. When he came to the outskirts of the
forest, he said to his followers, just stay waiting here, I
alone will soon finish off the giants. Then he bounded into the
forest and looked about right and left. After a while he
perceived both giants. They lay sleeping under a tree, and
snored so that the branches waved up and down. The little
tailor, not idle, gathered two pocketsful of stones, and with
these climbed up the tree. When he was half-way up, he slipped
down by a branch, until he sat just above the sleepers, and then
let one stone after another fall on the breast of one of the
giants. For a long time the giant felt nothing, but at last he
awoke, pushed his comrade, and said, why are you knocking me.
You must be dreaming, said the other, I am not knocking you.
They laid themselves down to sleep again, and then the tailor
threw a stone down on the second. What is the meaning of this,
cried the other. Why are you pelting me. I am not pelting you,
answered the first, growling. They disputed about it for a time,
but as they were weary they let the matter rest, and their eyes
closed once more. The little tailor began his game again, picked
out the biggest stone, and threw it with all his might on the
breast of the first giant. That is too bad, cried he, and sprang
up like a madman, and pushed his companion against the tree
until it shook. The other paid him back in the same coin, and
they got into such a rage that they tore up trees and belabored
each other so long, that at last they both fell down dead on the
ground at the same time. Then the little tailor leapt down. It
is a lucky thing, said he, that they did not tear up the tree on
which I was sitting, or I should have had to spring on to
another like a squirrel, but we tailors are nimble. He drew out
his sword and gave each of them a couple of thrusts in the
breast, and then went out to the horsemen and said, the work is
done, I have finished both of them off, but it was hard work.
They tore up trees in their sore need, and defended themselves
with them, but all that is to no purpose when a man like myself
comes, who can kill seven at one blow. But you are not wounded,
asked the horsemen. You need not concern yourself about that,
answered the tailor, they have not bent one hair of mine. The
horsemen would not believe him, and rode into the forest, there
they found the giants swimming in their blood, and all round
about lay the torn-up trees. The little tailor demanded of the
king the promised reward. He, however, repented of his promise,
and again bethought himself how he could get rid of the hero.
Before you receive my daughter, and the half of my kingdom, said
he to him, you must perform one more heroic deed. In the forest
roams a unicorn which does great harm, and you must catch it
first. I fear one unicorn still less than two giants. Seven at
one blow, is my kind of affair. He took a rope and an axe with
him, went forth into the forest, and again bade those who were
sent with him to wait outside. He had not long to seek. The
unicorn soon came towards him, and rushed directly on the
tailor, as if it would gore him with its horn without more ado.
Softly, softly, it can't be done as quickly as that, said he,
and stood still and waited until the animal was quite close, and
then sprang nimbly behind the tree. The unicorn ran against the
tree with all its strength, and struck its horn so fast in the
trunk that it had not strength enough to draw it out again, and
thus it was caught. Now, I have got the bird, said the tailor,
and came out from behind the tree and put the rope round its
neck, and then with his axe he hewed the horn out of the tree,
and when all was ready he led the beast away and took it to the
king. The king still would not give him the promised reward, and
made a third demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch
him a wild boar that made great havoc in the forest, and the
huntsmen should give him their help. Willingly, said the tailor,
that is child's play. He did not take the huntsmen with him into
the forest, and they were well pleased that he did not, for the
wild boar had several times received them in such a manner that
they had no inclination to lie in wait for him. When the boar
perceived the tailor, it ran on him with foaming mouth and
whetted tusks, and was about to throw him to the ground, but the
hero fled and sprang into a chapel which was near, and up to the
window at once, and in one bound out again. The boar ran in
after him, but the tailor ran round outside and shut the door
behind it, and then the raging beast, which was much too heavy
and awkward to leap out of the window, was caught. The little
tailor called the huntsmen thither that they might see the
prisoner with their own eyes. The hero, however went to the
king, who was now, whether he liked it or not, obliged to keep
his promise, and gave him his daughter and the half of his
kingdom. Had he known that it was no warlike hero, but a little
tailor who was standing before him it would have gone to his
heart still more than it did. The wedding was held with great
magnificence and small joy, and out of a tailor a king was made.
After some time the young queen heard her husband say in his
dreams at night, boy, make me the doublet, and patch the
pantaloons, or else I will rap the yard-measure over your ears.
Then she discovered in what state of life the young lord had
been born, and next morning complained of her wrongs to her
father, and begged him to help her to get rid of her husband,
who was nothing else but a tailor. The king comforted her and
said, leave your bedroom door open this night, and my servants
shall stand outside, and when he has fallen asleep shall go in,
bind him, and take him on board a ship which shall carry him
into the wide world. The woman was satisfied with this, but the
king's armor-bearer, who had heard all, was friendly with the
young lord, and informed him of the whole plot. I'll put a screw
into that business, said the little tailor. At night he went to
bed with his wife at the usual time, and when she thought that
he had fallen asleep, she got up, opened the door, and then lay
down again. The little tailor, who was only pretending to be
asleep, began to cry out in a clear voice, boy, make me the
doublet and patch me the pantaloons, or I will rap the
yard-measure over your ears. I smote seven at one blow. I killed
two giants, I brought away one unicorn and caught a wild boar,
and am I to fear those who are standing outside the room. When
these men heard the tailor speaking thus, they were overcome by
a great dread, and ran as if the wild huntsman were behind them,
and none of them would venture anything further against him. So
the little tailor was and remained a king to the end of his
life.
|
Cinderella
Cinderella The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt
that her end was drawing near, she called her only daughter to
her bedside and said, dear child, be good and pious, and then
the good God will always protect you, and I will look down on
you from heaven and be near you. Thereupon she closed her eyes
and departed. Every day the maiden went out to her mother's
grave, and wept, and she remained pious and good. When winter
came the snow spread a white sheet over the grave, and by the
time the spring sun had drawn it off again, the man had taken
another wife.
The woman had brought with her into the house two daughters,
who were beautiful and fair of face, but vile and black of
heart. Now began a bad time for the poor step-child. Is the
stupid goose to sit in the parlor with us, they said. He who
wants to eat bread must earn it. Out with the kitchen-wench.
They took her pretty clothes away from her, put an old grey
bedgown on her, and gave her wooden shoes. Just look at the
proud princess, how decked out she is, they cried, and laughed,
and led her into the kitchen. There she had to do hard work from
morning till night, get up before daybreak, carry water, light
fires, cook and wash.
Besides this, the sisters did her every imaginable injury -
they mocked her and emptied her peas and lentils into the ashes,
so that she was forced to sit and pick them out again. In the
evening when she had worked till she was weary she had no bed to
go to, but had to sleep by the hearth in the cinders. And as on
that account she always looked dusty and dirty, they called her
cinderella. It happened that the father was once going to the
fair, and he asked his two step-daughters what he should bring
back for them. Beautiful dresses, said one, pearls and jewels,
said the second. And you, cinderella, said he, what will you
have.
Father break off for me the first branch which knocks against
your hat on your way home. So he bought beautiful dresses,
pearls and jewels for his two step-daughters, and on his way
home, as he was riding through a green thicket, a hazel twig
brushed against him and knocked off his hat. Then he broke off
the branch and took it with him. When he reached home he gave
his step-daughters the things which they had wished for, and to
cinderella he gave the branch from the hazel-bush. Cinderella
thanked him, went to her mother's grave and planted the branch
on it, and wept so much that the tears fell down on it and
watered it.
And it grew and became a handsome tree. Thrice a day
cinderella went and sat beneath it, and wept and prayed, and a
little white bird always came on the tree, and if cinderella
expressed a wish, the bird threw down to her what she had wished
for. It happened, however, that the king gave orders for a
festival which was to last three days, and to which all the
beautiful young girls in the country were invited, in order that
his son might choose himself a bride.
When the two step-sisters heard that they too were to appear
among the number, they were delighted, called cinderella and
said, comb our hair for us, brush our shoes and fasten our
buckles, for we are going to the wedding at the king's palace.
Cinderella obeyed, but wept, because she too would have liked to
go with them to the dance, and begged her step-mother to allow
her to do so. You go, cinderella, said she, covered in dust and
dirt as you are, and would go to the festival. You have no
clothes and shoes, and yet would dance.
As, however, cinderella went on asking, the step-mother said
at last, I have emptied a dish of lentils into the ashes for
you, if you have picked them out again in two hours, you shall
go with us. The maiden went through the back-door into the
garden, and called, you tame pigeons, you turtle-doves, and all
you birds beneath the sky, come and help me to pick the good
into the pot, the bad into the crop. Then two white pigeons came
in by the kitchen window, and afterwards the turtle-doves, and
at last all the birds beneath the sky, came whirring and
crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes. And the pigeons
nodded with their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and
the rest began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and gathered all the
good grains into the dish.
Hardly had one hour passed before they had finished, and all
flew out again. Then the girl took the dish to her step-mother,
and was glad, and believed that now she would be allowed to go
with them to the festival. But the step-mother said, no,
cinderella, you have no clothes and you can not dance. You would
only be laughed at. And as cinderella wept at this, the
step-mother said, if you can pick two dishes of lentils out of
the ashes for me in one hour, you shall go with us.
And she thought to herself, that she most certainly cannot do
again. When the step-mother had emptied the two dishes of
lentils amongst the ashes, the maiden went through the back-door
into the garden and cried, you tame pigeons, you turtle-doves,
and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me to pick the
good into the pot, the bad into the crop. Then two white pigeons
came in by the kitchen-window, and afterwards the turtle-doves,
and at length all the birds beneath the sky, came whirring and
crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes.
And the doves nodded with their heads and began pick, pick,
pick, pick, and the others began also pick, pick, pick, pick,
and gathered all the good seeds into the dishes, and before half
an hour was over they had already finished, and all flew out
again. Then the maiden was delighted, and believed that she
might now go with them to the wedding. But the step-mother said,
all this will not help.
You cannot go with us, for you have no clothes and can not
dance. We should be ashamed of you. On this she turned her back
on cinderella, and hurried away with her two proud daughters. As
no one was now at home, cinderella went to her mother's grave
beneath the hazel-tree, and cried - shiver and quiver, little
tree, silver and gold throw down over me. Then the bird threw a
gold and silver dress down to her, and slippers embroidered with
silk and silver.
She put on the dress with all speed, and went to the wedding.
Her step-sisters and the step-mother however did not know her,
and thought she must be a foreign princess, for she looked so
beautiful in the golden dress. They never once thought of
cinderella, and believed that she was sitting at home in the
dirt, picking lentils out of the ashes. The prince approached
her, took her by the hand and danced with her. He would dance
with no other maiden, and never let loose of her hand, and if
any one else came to invite her, he said, this is my partner.
She danced till it was evening, and then she wanted to go home.
But the king's son said, I will go with you and bear you
company, for he wished to see to whom the beautiful maiden
belonged. She escaped from him, however, and sprang into the
pigeon-house. The king's son waited until her father came, and
then he told him that the unknown maiden had leapt into the
pigeon-house. The old man thought, can it be cinderella. And
they had to bring him an axe and a pickaxe that he might hew the
pigeon-house to pieces, but no one was inside it.
And when they got home cinderella lay in her dirty clothes
among the ashes, and a dim little oil-lamp was burning on the
mantle-piece, for cinderella had jumped quickly down from the
back of the pigeon-house and had run to the little hazel-tree,
and there she had taken off her beautiful clothes and laid them
on the grave, and the bird had taken them away again, and then
she had seated herself in the kitchen amongst the ashes in her
grey gown. Next day when the festival began afresh, and her
parents and the step-sisters had gone once more, cinderella went
to the hazel-tree and said - shiver and quiver, my little tree,
silver and gold throw down over me.
Then the bird threw down a much more beautiful dress than on
the preceding day. And when cinderella appeared at the wedding
in this dress, every one was astonished at her beauty. The
king's son had waited until she came, and instantly took her by
the hand and danced with no one but her. When others came and
invited her, he said, this is my partner. When evening came she
wished to leave, and the king's son followed her and wanted to
see into which house she went. But she sprang away from him, and
into the garden behind the house.
Therein stood a beautiful tall tree on which hung the most
magnificent pears. She clambered so nimbly between the branches
like a squirrel that the king's son did not know where she was
gone. He waited until her father came, and said to him, the
unknown maiden has escaped from me, and I believe she has
climbed up the pear-tree. The father thought, can it be
cinderella. And had an axe brought and cut the tree down, but no
one was on it.
And when they got into the kitchen, cinderella lay there
among the ashes, as usual, for she had jumped down on the other
side of the tree, had taken the beautiful dress to the bird on
the little hazel-tree, and put on her grey gown. On the third
day, when the parents and sisters had gone away, cinderella went
once more to her mother's grave and said to the little tree -
shiver and quiver, my little tree, silver and gold throw down
over me. And now the bird threw down to her a dress which was
more splendid and magnificent than any she had yet had, and the
slippers were golden. And when she went to the festival in the
dress, no one knew how to speak for astonishment. The king's son
danced with her only, and if any one invited her to dance, he
said this is my partner.
When evening came, cinderella wished to leave, and the king's
son was anxious to go with her, but she escaped from him so
quickly that he could not follow her. The king's son, however,
had employed a ruse, and had caused the whole staircase to be
smeared with pitch, and there, when she ran down, had the
maiden's left slipper remained stuck. The king's son picked it
up, and it was small and dainty, and all golden. Next morning,
he went with it to the father, and said to him, no one shall be
my wife but she whose foot this golden slipper fits. Then were
the two sisters glad, for they had pretty feet. The eldest went
with the shoe into her room and wanted to try it on, and her
mother stood by.
But she could not get her big toe into it, and the shoe was
too small for her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said,
cut the toe off, when you are queen you will have no more need
to go on foot. The maiden cut the toe off, forced the foot into
the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the king's son.
Then he took her on his his horse as his bride and rode away
with her. They were obliged, however, to pass the grave, and
there, on the hazel-tree, sat the two pigeons and cried - turn
and peep, turn and peep, there's blood within the shoe, the shoe
it is too small for her, the true bride waits for you.
Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was
trickling from it. He turned his horse round and took the false
bride home again, and said she was not the true one, and that
the other sister was to put the shoe on. Then this one went into
her chamber and got her toes safely into the shoe, but her heel
was too large. So her mother gave her a knife and said, cut a
bit off your heel, when you are queen you will have no more need
to go on foot.
The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her foot into the
shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the king's son. He
took her on his horse as his bride, and rode away with her, but
when they passed by the hazel-tree, the two pigeons sat on it
and cried - turn and peep, turn and peep, there's blood within
the shoe, the shoe it is too small for her, the true bride waits
for you. He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was
running out of her shoe, and how it had stained her white
stocking quite red. Then he turned his horse and took the false
bride home again. This also is not the right one, said he, have
you no other daughter.
No, said the man, there is still a little stunted
kitchen-wench which my late wife left behind her, but she cannot
possibly be the bride. The king's son said he was to send her up
to him, but the mother answered, oh, no, she is much too dirty,
she cannot show herself. But he absolutely insisted on it, and
cinderella had to be called. She first washed her hands and face
clean, and then went and bowed down before the king's son, who
gave her the golden shoe. Then she seated herself on a stool,
drew her foot out of the heavy wooden shoe, and put it into the
slipper, which fitted like a glove.
And when she rose up and the king's son looked at her face he
recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with him and
cried, that is the true bride. The step-mother and the two
sisters were horrified and became pale with rage, he, however,
took cinderella on his horse and rode away with her.
As they passed by the hazel-tree, the two white doves cried -
turn and peep, turn and peep, no blood is in the shoe, the shoe
is not too small for her, the true bride rides with you, and
when they had cried that, the two came flying down and placed
themselves on cinderella's shoulders, one on the right, the
other on the left, and remained sitting there. When the wedding
with the king's son was to be celebrated, the two false sisters
came and wanted to get into favor with cinderella and share her
good fortune.
When the betrothed couple went to church, the elder was at
the right side and the younger at the left, and the pigeons
pecked out one eye from each of them. Afterwards as they came
back the elder was at the left, and the younger at the right,
and then the pigeons pecked out the other eye from each. And
thus, for their wickedness and falsehood, they were punished
with blindness all their days.
|
Little Red-Cap
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved
by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her
grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given
to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet,
which suited her so well that she would never wear anything
else. So she was always called little red-cap.
One day her mother said to her, come, little red-cap, here is
a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your
grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good. Set
out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk nicely and
quietly and do not run off the path, or you may fall and break
the bottle, and then your grandmother will get nothing. And when
you go into her room, don't forget to say, good-morning, and
don't peep into every corner before you do it.
I will take great care, said little red-cap to her mother,
and gave her hand on it.
The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the
village, and just as little red-cap entered the wood, a wolf met
her. Red-cap did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was
not at all afraid of him.
"Good-day, little red-cap," said he.
"Thank you kindly, wolf."
"Whither away so early, little red-cap?"
"To my grandmother's."
"What have you got in your apron?"
"Cake and wine. Yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick
grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger."
"Where does your grandmother live, little red-cap?"
"A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood. Her house
stands under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just
below. You surely must know it," replied little red-cap.
The wolf thought to himself, what a tender young creature.
What a nice plump mouthful, she will be better to eat than the
old woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both. So he
walked for a short time by the side of little red-cap, and then
he said, "see little red-cap, how pretty the flowers are about
here. Why do you not look round. I believe, too, that you do not
hear how sweetly the little birds are singing. You walk gravely
along as if you were going to school, while everything else out
here in the wood is merry."
Little red-cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams
dancing here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers
growing everywhere, she thought, suppose I take grandmother a
fresh nosegay. That would please her too. It is so early in the
day that I shall still get there in good time. And so she ran
from the path into the wood to look for flowers. And whenever
she had picked one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier
one farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and deeper
into the wood.
Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother's house
and knocked at the door.
"Who is there?"
"Little red-cap," replied the wolf. "She is bringing cake and
wine. Open the door."
"Lift the latch," called out the grandmother, "I am too weak,
and cannot get up."
The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without
saying a word he went straight to the grandmother's bed, and
devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her
cap, laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.
Little red-cap, however, had been running about picking
flowers, and when she had gathered so many that she could carry
no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way
to her.
She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and
when she went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that
she said to herself, oh dear, how uneasy I feel to-day, and at
other times I like being with grandmother so much. She called
out, "good morning," but received no answer. So she went to the
bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with
her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.
"Oh, grandmother," she said, "what big ears you have."
"The better to hear you with, my child," was the reply.
"But, grandmother, what big eyes you have," she said.
"The better to see you with," my dear.
"But, grandmother, what large hands you have."
"The better to hug you with."
"Oh, but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have."
"The better to eat you with."
And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he
was out of bed and swallowed up red-cap.
When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in
the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman
was just passing the house, and thought to himself, how the old
woman is snoring. I must just see if she wants anything.
So he went into the room, and when he came to the bed, he saw
that the wolf was lying in it. Do I find you here, you old
sinner, said he. I have long sought you. Then just as he was
going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might
have devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be
saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and
began to cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had
made two snips, he saw the little red-cap shining, and then he
made two snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying, ah,
how frightened I have been. How dark it was inside the wolf. And
after that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but
scarcely able to breathe. Red-cap, however, quickly fetched
great stones with which they filled the wolf's belly, and when
he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy
that he collapsed at once, and fell dead.
Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the
wolf's skin and went home with it. The grandmother ate the cake
and drank the wine which red-cap had brought, and revived, but
red-cap thought to herself, as long as I live, I will never by
myself leave the path, to run into the wood, when my mother has
forbidden me to do so.
It is also related that once when red-cap was again taking
cakes to the old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and
tried to entice her from the path. Red-cap, however, was on her
guard, and went straight forward on her way, and told her
grandmother that she had met the wolf, and that he had said
good-morning to her, but with such a wicked look in his eyes,
that if they had not been on the public road she was certain he
would have eaten her up. Well, said the grandmother, we will
shut the door, that he may not come in. Soon afterwards the wolf
knocked, and cried, open the door, grandmother, I am little
red-cap, and am bringing you some cakes. But they did not speak,
or open the door, so the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round
the house, and at last jumped on the roof, intending to wait
until red-cap went home in the evening, and then to steal after
her and devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother saw what
was in his thoughts. In front of the house was a great stone
trough, so she said to the child, take the pail, red-cap. I made
some sausages yesterday, so carry the water in which I boiled
them to the trough. Red-cap carried until the great trough was
quite full. Then the smell of the sausages reached the wolf, and
he sniffed and peeped down, and at last stretched out his neck
so far that he could no longer keep his footing and began to
slip, and slipped down from the roof straight into the great
trough, and was drowned. But red-cap went joyously home, and no
one ever did anything to harm her again.
|
The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs
There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little son,
and as he came into the world with a caul on, it was predicted
that in his fourteenth year he would have the king's daughter
for his wife. It happened that soon afterwards the king came
into the village, and no one knew that he was the king, and when
he asked the people what news there was, they answered, a child
has just been born with a caul on, whatever anyone so born
undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied, too, that in his
fourteenth year he will have the king's daughter for his wife.
The king, who had a bad heart, and was angry about the
prophecy, went to the parents, and, seeming quite friendly,
said, you poor people, let me have your child, and I will take
care of it. At first they refused, but when the stranger offered
them a large amount of gold for it, and they thought, it is a
child of good fortune, and everything must turn out well for it,
they at last consented, and gave him the child.
The king put it in a box and rode away with it until he came
to a deep piece of water, then he threw the box into it and
thought, I have freed my daughter from her undesired suitor.
The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat, and
not a drop of water made its way into it. And it floated to
within two miles of the king's chief city, where there was a
mill, and it came to a halt at the mill-dam. A miller's boy, who
by good luck was standing there, noticed it and pulled it out
with a hook, thinking that he had found a great treasure, but
when he opened it there lay a pretty boy inside, quite fresh and
lively. He took him to the miller and his wife, and as they had
no children they were glad, and said, "God has given him to us."
They took great care of the foundling, and he grew up in all
goodness.
It happened that once in a storm, the king went into the
mill, and asked the mill-folk if the tall youth were their son.
No, answered they, he's a foundling. Fourteen years ago he
floated down to the mill-dam in a box, and the mill-boy pulled
him out of the water.
Then the king knew that it was none other than the child of
good fortune which he had thrown into the water, and he said, my
good people, could not the youth take a letter to the queen. I
will give him two gold pieces as a reward. Just as the king
commands, answered they, and they told the boy to hold himself
in readiness. Then the king wrote a letter to the queen, wherein
he said, as soon as the boy arrives with this letter, let him be
killed and buried, and all must be done before I come home. The
boy set out with this letter, but he lost his way, and in the
evening came to a large forest. In the darkness he saw a small
light, he went towards it and reached a cottage. When he went
in, an old woman was sitting by the fire quite alone. She
started when she saw the boy, and said, whence do you come, and
whither are you going. I come from the mill, he answered, and
wish to go to the queen, to whom I am taking a letter, but as I
have lost my way in the forest I should like to stay here over
night. You poor boy, said the woman, you have come into a den of
thieves, and when they come home they will kill you. Let them
come, said the boy, I am not afraid, but I am so tired that I
cannot go any farther. And he stretched himself upon a bench and
fell asleep.
Soon afterwards the robbers came, and angrily asked what
strange boy was lying there. Ah, said the old woman, it is an
innocent child who has lost himself in the forest, and out of
pity I have let him come in, he has to take a letter to the
queen. The robbers opened the letter and read it, and in it was
written that the boy as soon as he arrived should be put to
death. Then the hardhearted robbers felt pity, and their leader
tore up the letter and wrote another, saying, that as soon as
the boy came, he should be married at once to the king's
daughter. Then they let him lie quietly on the bench until the
next morning, and when he awoke they gave him the letter, and
showed him the right way.
And the queen, when she had received the letter and read it,
did as was written in it, and had a splendid wedding-feast
prepared, and the king's daughter was married to the child of
good fortune, and as the youth was handsome and friendly she
lived with him in joy and contentment.
After some time the king returned to his palace and saw that
the prophecy was fulfilled, and the child married to his
daughter. How has that come to pass, said he, I gave quite
another order in my letter.
So the queen gave him the letter, and said that he might see
for himself what was written in it. The king read the letter and
saw quite well that it had been exchanged for the other. He
asked the youth what had become of the letter entrusted to him,
and why he had brought another instead of it. I know nothing
about it, answered he, it must have been changed in the night,
when I slept in the forest. The king said in a passion, you
shall not have everything quite so much your own way, whosoever
marries my daughter must fetch me from hell three golden hairs
from the head of the devil, bring me what I want, and you shall
keep my daughter. In this way the king hoped to be rid of him
for ever. But the child of good fortune answered, I will fetch
the golden hairs, I am not afraid of the devil. Whereupon he
took leave of them and began his journey.
The road led him to a large town, where the watchman by the
gates asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. I know
everything, answered the child of good fortune. Then you can do
us a favor, said the watchman, if you will tell us why our
market fountain, which once flowed with wine has become dry, and
no longer gives even water. That you shall know, answered he,
only wait until I come back.
Then he went farther and came to another town, and there also
the gatekeeper asked him what was his trade, and what he knew. I
know everything, answered he. Then you can do us a favor and
tell us why a tree in our town which once bore golden apples now
does not even put forth leaves. You shall know that, answered
he, only wait until I come back.
Then he went on and came to a wide river over which he must
cross. The ferryman asked him what his trade was, and what he
knew. I know everything, answered he. Then you can do me a
favor, said the ferryman, and tell me why I must always be
rowing backwards and forwards, and am never set free. You shall
know that, answered he, only wait until I come back.
When he had crossed the water he found the entrance to hell.
It was black and sooty within, and the devil was not at home,
but his grandmother was sitting in a large arm-chair. What do
you want, said she to him, but she did not look so very wicked.
I should like to have three golden hairs from the devil's head,
answered he, else I cannot keep my wife. That is a good deal to
ask for, said she, if the devil comes home and finds you, it
will cost you your life, but as I pity you, I will see if I
cannot help you.
She changed him into an ant and said, creep into the folds of
my dress, you will be safe there. Yes, answered he, so far, so
good, but there are three things besides that I want to know -
why a fountain which once flowed with wine has become dry, and
no longer gives even water, why a tree which once bore golden
apples does not even put forth leaves, and why a ferryman must
always be going backwards and forwards, and is never set free.
Those are difficult questions, answered she, but just be silent
and quiet and pay attention to what the devil says when I pull
out the three golden hairs.
As the evening came on, the devil returned home. No sooner
had he entered than he noticed that the air was not pure. I
smell man's flesh, said he, all is not right here. Then he pried
into every corner, and searched, but could not find anything.
His grandmother scolded him. It has just been swept, said she,
and everything put in order, and now you are upsetting it again,
you have always got man's flesh in your nose. Sit down and eat
your supper.
When he had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid his head
in his grandmother's lap, and told her she should louse him a
little. It was not long before he was fast asleep, snoring and
breathing heavily. Then the old woman took hold of a golden
hair, pulled it out, and laid it down beside her. Oh, cried the
devil, what are you doing. I have had a bad dream, answered the
grandmother, so I seized hold of your hair. What did you dream
then, said the devil. I dreamt that a fountain in a market-place
from which wine once flowed was dried up, and not even water
would flow out of it - what is the cause of it. Oh, ho, if they
did but know it, answered the devil, there is a toad sitting
under a stone in the well - if they killed it, the wine would
flow again.
The grandmother loused him again until he went to sleep and
snored so that the windows shook. Then she pulled the second
hair out. Ha, what are you doing, cried the devil angrily. Do
not take it ill, said she, I did it in a dream. What have you
dreamt this time, asked he. I dreamt that in a certain kingdom
there stood an apple-tree which had once borne golden apples,
but now would not even bear leaves. What, think you, was the
reason. Oh, if they did but know, answered the devil. A mouse is
gnawing at the root - if they killed it they would have golden
apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither
altogether. But I have had enough of your dreams, if you disturb
me in my sleep again you will get a box on the ear.
The grandmother spoke gently to him and picked his lice once
more until he fell asleep and snored. Then she took hold of the
third golden hair and pulled it out. The devil jumped up, roared
out, and would have treated her ill if she had not quieted him
again and said, who can help bad dreams. What was the dream,
then, asked he, and was quite curious. I dreamt of a ferryman
who complained that he must always ferry from one side to the
other, and was never released. What is the cause of it. Ah, the
fool, answered the devil, when anyone comes and wants to go
across he must put the oar in his hand, and the other man will
have to ferry and he will be free. As the grandmother had
plucked out the three golden hairs, and the three questions were
answered, she let the old devil alone, and he slept until
daybreak.
When the devil had gone out again the old woman took the ant
out of the folds of her dress, and gave the child of good
fortune his human shape again. There are the three golden hairs
for you, said she. What the devil said to your three questions,
I suppose you heard. Yes, answered he, I heard, and will take
care to remember. You have what you want, said she, and now you
can go your way. He thanked the old woman for helping him in his
need, and left hell well content that everything had turned out
so fortunately.
When he came to the ferryman he was expected to give the
promised answer. Ferry me across first, said the child of good
fortune, and then I will tell you how you can be set free, and
when he reached the opposite shore he gave him the devil's
advice. Next time anyone comes, who wants to be ferried over,
just put the oar in his hand.
He went on and came to the town wherein stood the unfruitful
tree, and there too the watchman wanted an answer. So he told
him what he had heard from the devil. Kill the mouse which is
gnawing at its root, and it will again bear golden apples. Then
the watchman thanked him, and gave him as a reward two asses
laden with gold, which followed him.
Finally, he came to the town whose well was dry. He told the
watchman what the devil had said, a toad is in the well beneath
a stone, you must find it and kill it, and the well will again
give wine in plenty. The watchman thanked him, and also gave him
two asses laden with gold.
At last the child of good fortune got home to his wife, who
was heartily glad to see him again, and to hear how well he had
prospered in everything. To the king he took what he had asked
for, the devil's three golden hairs, and when the king saw the
four asses laden with gold he was quite content, and said, now
all the conditions are fulfilled, and you can keep my daughter.
But tell me, dear son-in-law, where did all that gold come
from - this is tremendous wealth. I was rowed across a river,
answered he, and got it there, it lies on the shore instead of
sand. Can I too fetch some of it, said the king, and he was
quite eager about it. As much as you like, answered he. There is
a ferryman on the river, let him ferry you over, and you can
fill your sacks on the other side. The greedy king set out in
all haste, and when he came to the river he beckoned to the
ferryman to put him across. The ferryman came and bade him get
in, and when they got to the other shore he put the oar in his
hand and sprang over. But from this time forth the king had to
ferry, as a punishment for his sins. Perhaps he is ferrying
still. If he is, it is because no one has taken the oar from
him.
|
The Girl Without Hands
A certain miller had little by little fallen into poverty,
and had nothing left but his mill and a large apple-tree behind
it. Once when he had gone into the forest to fetch wood, an old
man stepped up to him whom he had never seen before, and said,
why do you plague yourself with cutting wood, I will make you
rich, if you will promise me what is standing behind your mill.
What can that be but my apple-tree, thought the miller, and
said, yes, and gave a written promise to the stranger. He,
however, laughed mockingly and said, when three years have
passed, I will come and carry away what belongs to me, and then
he went. When the miller got home, his wife came to meet him and
said, tell me, miller, from whence comes this sudden wealth into
our house. All at once every box and chest was filled, no one
brought it in, and I know not how it happened. He answered, it
comes from a stranger who met me in the forest, and promised me
great treasure. I' in return, have promised him what stands
behind the mill - we can very well give him the big apple-tree
for it. Ah, husband, said the terrified wife, that must have
been the devil. He did not mean the apple-tree, but our
daughter, who was standing behind the mill sweeping the yard.
The miller's daughter was a beautiful, pious girl, and lived
through the three years in the fear of God and without sin. When
therefore the time was over, and the day came when the evil one
was to fetch her, she washed herself clean, and made a circle
round herself with chalk. The devil appeared quite early, but he
could not come near to her. Angrily, he said to the miller, take
all water away from her, that she may no longer be able to wash
herself, for otherwise I have no power over her. The miller was
afraid, and did so. The next morning the devil came again, but
she had wept on her hands, and they were quite clean. Again he
could not get near her, and furiously said to the miller, cut
her hands off, or else I have no power over her. The miller was
shocked and answered, how could I cut off my own child's hands.
Then the evil one threatened him and said, if you do not do it
you are mine, and I will take you yourself.
The father became alarmed, and promised to obey him. So he
went to the girl and said, my child, if I do not cut off both
your hands, the devil will carry me away, and in my terror I
have promised to do it. Help me in my need, and forgive me the
harm I do you. She replied, dear father, do with me what you
will, I am your child. Thereupon she laid down both her hands,
and let them be cut off. The devil came for the third time, but
she had wept so long and so much on the stumps, that after all
they were quite clean. Then he had to give in, and had lost all
right over her.
The miller said to her, I have by means of you received such
great wealth that I will keep you most handsomely as long as you
live. But she replied, here I cannot stay, I will go forth,
compassionate people will give me as much as I require.
Thereupon she caused her maimed arms to be bound to her back,
and by sunrise she set out on her way, and walked the whole day
until night fell. Then she came to a royal garden, and by the
shimmering of the moon she saw that trees covered with beautiful
fruits grew in it, but she could not enter, for it was
surrounded by water. And as she had walked the whole day and not
eaten one mouthful, and hunger tormented her, she thought, ah,
if I were but inside, that I might eat of the fruit, else must I
die of hunger. Then she knelt down, called on God the Lord, and
prayed. And suddenly an angel came towards her, who made a dam
in the water, so that the moat became dry and she could walk
through it. And now she went into the garden and the angel went
with her. She saw a tree covered with beautiful pears, but they
were all counted. Then she went to them, and to still her
hunger, ate one with her mouth from the tree, but no more. The
gardener was watching, but as the angel was standing by, he was
afraid and thought the maiden was a spirit, and was silent,
neither did he dare to cry out, or to speak to the spirit. When
she had eaten the pear, she was satisfied, and went and
concealed herself among the bushes. The king to whom the garden
belonged, came down to it next morning, and counted, and saw
that one of the pears was missing, and asked the gardener what
had become of it, as it was not lying beneath the tree, but was
gone. Then answered the gardener, last night, a spirit came in,
who had no hands, and ate off one of the pears with its mouth.
The king said, how did the spirit get over the water, and where
did it go after it had eaten the pear. The gardener answered,
someone came in a snow-white garment from heaven who made a dam,
and kept back the water, that the spirit might walk through the
moat. And as it must have been an angel, I was afraid, and asked
no questions, and did not cry out. When the spirit had eaten the
pear, it went back again. The king said, if it be as you say, I
will watch with you to-night.
When it grew dark the king came into the garden and brought a
priest with him, who was to speak to the spirit. All three
seated themselves beneath the tree and watched. At midnight the
maiden came creeping out of the thicket, went to the tree, and
again ate one pear off it with her mouth, and beside her stood
the angel in white garments. Then the priest went out to them
and said, "Do you come from heaven or from earth? Are you a
spirit, or a human being?" She replied, "I am no spirit, but an
unhappy mortal deserted by all but God." The king said, "If you
are forsaken by all the world, yet will I not forsake you." He
took her with him into his royal palace, and as she was so
beautiful and good, he loved her with all his heart, had silver
hands made for her, and took her to wife.
After a year the king had to go on a journey, so he commended
his young queen to the care of his mother and said, if she is
brought to child-bed take care of her, nurse her well, and tell
me of it at once in a letter. Then she gave birth to a fine boy.
So the old mother made haste to write and announce the joyful
news to him. But the messenger rested by a brook on the way, and
as he was fatigued by the great distance, he fell asleep. Then
came the devil, who was always seeking to injure the good queen,
and exchanged the letter for another, in which was written that
the queen had brought a monster into the world. When the king
read the letter he was shocked and much troubled, but he wrote
in answer that they were to take great care of the queen and
nurse her well until his arrival.
The messenger went back with the letter, but rested at the
same place and again fell asleep. Then came the devil once more,
and put a different letter in his pocket, in which it was
written that they were to put the queen and her child to death.
The old mother was terribly shocked when she received the
letter, and could not believe it. She wrote back again to the
king, but received no other answer, because each time the devil
substituted a false letter, and in the last letter it was also
written that she was to preserve the queen's tongue and eyes as
a token that she had obeyed.
But the old mother wept to think such innocent blood was to
be shed, and had a hind brought by night and cut out her tongue
and eyes, and kept them. Then said she to the queen, "I cannot
have you killed as the king commands, but here you may stay no
longer. Go forth into the wide world with your child, and never
come here again." The poor woman tied her child on her back, and
went away with eyes full of tears. She came into a great wild
forest, and then she fell on her knees and prayed to God, and
the angel of the Lord appeared to her and led her to a little
house on which was a sign with the words, here all dwell free. A
snow-white maiden came out of the little house and said,
welcome, lady queen, and conducted her inside. Then she unbound
the little boy from her back, and held him to her breast that he
might feed, and laid him in a beautifully-made little bed. Then
said the poor woman, "From whence do you know that I was a
queen?"
The white maiden answered, "I am an angel sent by God, to
watch over you and your child." The queen stayed seven years in
the little house, and was well cared for, and by God's grace,
because of her piety, her hands which had been cut off, grew
once more.
At last the king came home again from his journey, and his
first wish was to see his wife and the child. Then his aged
mother began to weep and said, "You wicked man, why did you
write to me that I was to take those two innocent lives," and
she showed him the two letters which the evil one had forged,
and then continued, "I did as you bade me, and she showed the
tokens, the tongue and eyes." Then the king began to weep for
his poor wife and his little son so much more bitterly than she
was doing, that the aged mother had compassion on him and said,
"be at peace, she still lives, I secretly caused a hind to be
killed, and took these tokens from it, but I bound the child to
your wife's back and bade her go forth into the wide world, and
made her promise never to come back here again, because you were
so angry with her." Then spoke the king, "I will go as far as
the sky is blue, and will neither eat nor drink until I have
found again my dear wife and my child, if in the meantime they
have not been killed, or died of hunger."
Thereupon the king traveled about for seven long years, and
sought her in every cleft of the rocks and in every cave, but he
found her not, and thought she had died of want. During the
whole time he neither ate nor drank, but God supported him. At
length he came into a great forest, and found therein the little
house whose sign was, here all dwell free. Then forth came the
white maiden, took him by the hand, led him in, and said,
"Welcome, lord king," and asked him from whence he came. He
answered, "Soon shall I have traveled about for the space of
seven years, and I seek my wife and her child, but cannot find
them." The angel offered him meat and drink, but he did not take
anything, and only wished to rest a little. Then he lay down to
sleep, and laid a handkerchief over his face.
Thereupon the angel went into the chamber where the queen sat
with her son, whom she usually called Sorrowful, and said to
her, go out with your child, your husband has come. So she went
to the place where he lay, and the handkerchief fell from his
face. Then said she, "Sorrowful, pick up your father's
handkerchief, and cover his face again." The child picked it up,
and put it over his face again. The king in his sleep heard what
passed, and had pleasure in letting the handkerchief fall once
more. But the child grew impatient, and said, "Dear mother, how
can I cover my father's face when I have no father in this
world. I have learnt to say the prayer - Our Father, which art
in heaven - you have told me that my father was in heaven, and
was the good God, and how can I know a wild man like this. He is
not my father." When the king heard that, he got up, and asked
who they were. Then said she, "I am your wife, and that is your
son, Sorrowful". And he saw her living hands, and said, "My wife
had silver hands." She answered, "The good God has caused my
natural hands to grow again," and the angel went into the inner
room, and brought the silver hands, and showed them to him.
Hereupon he knew for a certainty that it was his dear wife and
his dear child, and he kissed them, and was glad, and said, "A
heavy stone has fallen from off my heart." Then the angel of God
ate with them once again, and after that they went home to the
king's aged mother. There were great rejoicings everywhere, and
the king and queen were married again, and lived contentedly to
their happy end.
|
The Wishing-Table, The Gold-Ass, and The Cudgel in the Sack
There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and
only one goat. But as the goat supported all of them with her
milk, she was obliged to have good food, and to be taken every
day to pasture. The sons did this, in turn. Once the eldest took
her to the churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found,
and let her eat and run about there. At night when it was time
to go home he asked, goat, have you had enough. The goat
answered I have eaten so much, not a leaf more I'll touch, meh.
Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and took hold of the cord
round her neck, led her into the stable and tied her up
securely. Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had as much
food as she ought. Oh, answered the son, she has eaten so much,
not a leaf more she'll touch. But the father wished to satisfy
himself, and went down to the stable, stroked the dear animal
and asked, goat, are you satisfied. The goat answered, how
should I be satisfied. Among the ditches I leapt about, found no
leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
What do I hear, cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said
to the youth. HI, you liar, you said the goat had had enough,
and have let her hunger, and in his anger he took the
yard-measure from the wall, and drove him out with blows.
Next day it was the turn of the second son, who sought a
place in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs
grew, and the goat gobbled them all up. At night when he wanted
to go home, he asked, goat, are you satisfied. The goat
answered, I have eaten so much, not a leaf more I'll touch, meh.
Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and led her home, and tied
her up in the stable. Well, said the old tailor, has the goat
had as much food as she ought. Oh, answered the son, she has
eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch. The tailor would
not rely on this, but went down to the stable and said, goat,
have you had enough. The goat answered, how should I be
satisfied. Among the ditches I leapt about, found no leaf, so
went without, meh. Meh.
The godless wretch. Cried the tailor, to let such a good
animal hunger, and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors
with the yard-measure.
Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do his duty
well, and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves, and let
the goat devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home,
he asked, goat, have you had enough. The goat answered, I have
eaten so much, not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and led her into the stable,
and tied her up. Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had her
full share of food. She has eaten so much, not a leaf more
she'll touch. The tailor was distrustful, went down and asked,
goat, have you had enough. The wicked beast answered, how should
I be satisfied. Among the ditches I leapt about, found no leaf,
so went without, meh. Meh.
Oh, the brood of liars, cried the tailor, each as wicked and
forgetful of his duty as the other. You shall no longer make a
fool of me, and quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs
and belabored the poor young fellow so vigorously with the
yard-measure that he sprang out of the house.
The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he
went down into the stable, stroked the goat and said, come, my
dear little animal, I myself will take you to feed. He took her
by the rope and conducted her to green hedges, and amongst
milfoil and whatever else goats like to eat. There you may for
once eat to your heart's content, said he to her, and let her
browse till evening. Then he asked, goat, are you satisfied. She
replied. I have eaten so much, not a leaf more I'll touch, meh.
Meh.
Come home, then, said the tailor, and led her into the
stable, and tied her fast. When he was going away, he turned
round again and said, well, are you satisfied for once. But the
goat behaved no better to him, and cried, how should I be
satisfied. Among the ditches I leapt about, found no leaf, so
went without, meh. Meh.
When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly
that he had driven away his three sons without cause. Wait, you
ungrateful creature, cried he, it is not enough to drive you
forth, I will brand you so that you will no more dare to show
yourself amongst honest tailors. In great haste he ran upstairs,
fetched his razor, lathered the goat's head, and shaved her as
clean as the palm of his hand. And as the yard-measure would
have been too good for her, he brought the horsewhip, and gave
her such cuts with it that she bounded away with tremendous
leaps.
When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he
fell into great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back
again, but no one knew whither they were gone. The eldest had
apprenticed himself to a joiner, and learnt industriously and
indefatigably, and when the time came for him to go traveling,
his master presented him with a little table which was not
particularly beautiful, and was made of common wood, but which
had one good property. If anyone set it out, and said, little
table, spread yourself, the good little table was at once
covered with a clean little cloth, and a plate was there, and a
knife and fork beside it, and dishes with boiled meats and
roasted meats, as many as there was room for, and a great glass
of red wine shone so that it made the heart glad. The young
journeyman thought, with this you have enough for your whole
life, and went joyously about the world and never troubled
himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything
was to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not
enter an inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a
meadow, or wherever he fancied, he took his little table off his
back, set it down before him, and said, spread yourself, and
then everything appeared that his heart desired. At length he
took it into his head to go back to his father, whose anger
would now be appeased, and who would now willingly receive him
with his magic table. It came to pass that on his way home, he
came one evening to an inn which was filled with guests. They
bade him welcome, and invited him to sit and eat with them, for
otherwise he would have difficulty in getting anything. No,
answered the joiner, I will not take the few morsels out of your
mouths. Rather than that, you shall be my guests. They laughed,
and thought he was jesting with them. He but placed his wooden
table in the middle of the room, and said, little table, spread
yourself. Instantly it was covered with food, so good that the
host could never have procured it, and the smell of it ascended
pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests. Fall to, dear friends,
said the joiner, and the guests when they saw that he meant it,
did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled out their
knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised them the
most was that when a dish became empty, a full one instantly
took its place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one
corner and watched the affair. He did not at all know what to
say, but thought, you could easily find a use for such a cook as
that in your household. The joiner and his comrades made merry
until late into the night. At length they lay down to sleep, and
the young apprentice also went to bed, and set his magic table
against the wall. The host's thoughts, however, let him have no
rest. It occurred to him that there was a little old table in
his lumber-room which looked just like the apprentice's and he
brought it out, and carefully exchanged it for the wishing
table. Next morning the joiner paid for his bed, took up his
table, never thinking that he had got a false one, and went his
way. At mid-day he reached his father, who received him with
great joy. Well, my dear son, what have you learnt. Said he to
him. Father, I have become a joiner.
A good trade, replied the old man, but what have you brought
back with you from your apprenticeship. Father, the best thing
which I have brought back with me is this little table. The
tailor inspected it on all sides and said, you did not make a
masterpiece when you made that. It is a bad old table. But it is
a table which furnishes itself, replied the son. When I set it
out, and tell it to spread itself, the most beautiful dishes
stand on it, and a wine also, which gladdens the heart. Just
invite all our relations and friends, they shall refresh and
enjoy themselves for once, for the table will give them all they
require. When the company was assembled, he put his table in the
middle of the room and said, little table, spread yourself, but
the little table did not bestir itself, and remained just as
bare as any other table which does not understand language. Then
the poor apprentice became aware that his table had been
changed, and was ashamed at having to stand there like a liar.
The relations, however, mocked him, and were forced to go home
without having eaten or drunk. The father brought out his
patches again, and went on tailoring, but the son went to a
master in the craft.
The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed
himself to him. When his years were over, the master said, as
you have conducted yourself so well, I give you an ass of a
peculiar kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack.
What good is he, then. Asked the young apprentice. He spews
forth gold, answered the miller. If you set him on a cloth and
say bricklebrit, the good animal will spew forth gold pieces for
you from back and front. That is a fine thing, said the
apprentice, and thanked the master, and went out into the world.
When he had need of gold, he had only to say bricklebrit to his
ass, and it rained gold pieces, and he had nothing to do but
pick them off the ground. Wheresoever he went, the best of
everything was good enough for him, and the dearer the better,
for he had always a full purse. When he had looked about the
world for some time, he thought, you must seek out your father.
If you go to him with the gold-ass he will forget his anger, and
receive you well. It came to pass that he came to the same inn
in which his brother's table had been exchanged. He led his ass
by the bridle, and the host was about to take the animal from
him and tie him up, but the young apprentice said, don't trouble
yourself, I will take my grey horse into the stable, and tie him
up myself too, for I must know where he stands. This struck the
host as odd, and he thought that a man who was forced to look
after his ass himself, could not have much to spend. But when
the stranger put his hand in his pocket and brought out two gold
pieces, and said he was to provide something good for him, the
host opened his eyes wide, and ran and sought out the best he
could muster. After dinner the guest asked what he owed. The
host did not see why he should not double the reckoning, and
said the apprentice must give two more gold pieces. He felt in
his pocket, but his gold was just at an end. Wait an instant,
sir host, said he, I will go and fetch some money. But he took
the table-cloth with him. The host could not imagine what this
could mean, and being curious, stole after him, and as the guest
bolted the stable door, he peeped through a hole left by a knot
in the wood. The stranger spread out the cloth under the animal
and cried, bricklebrit, and immediately the beast began to let
gold pieces fall from back and front, so that it fairly rained
down money on the ground. Eh, my word, said the host, ducats are
quickly coined there. A purse like that is not to be sniffed at.
The guest paid his score, and went to bed, but in the night the
host stole down into the stable, led away the master of the
mint, and tied up another ass in his place.
Early next morning the apprentice traveled away with his ass,
and thought that he had his gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his
father, who rejoiced to see him again, and gladly took him in.
What have you made of yourself, my son. Asked the old man. A
miller, dear father, he answered. What have you brought back
with you from your travels. Nothing else but an ass. There are
asses enough here, said the father, I would rather have had a
good goat. Yes, replied the son, but it is no common ass, but a
gold-ass, when I say bricklebrit, the good beast spews forth a
whole sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon all our relations
hither, and I will make them rich folks. That suits me well,
said the tailor, for then I shall have no need to torment myself
any longer with the needle, and ran out himself and called the
relations together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller
bade them make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass
into the room. Now watch, said he, and cried, bricklebrit, but
what fell were not gold pieces, and it was clear that the animal
knew nothing of the art, for every ass does not attain such
perfection. Then the poor miller pulled a long face, saw that he
was betrayed, and begged pardon of the relatives, who went home
as poor as they came. There was no help for it, the old man had
to betake him to his needle once more, and the youth hired
himself to a miller.
The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as
that is skilled labor, he was the longest in learning. His
brothers, however, told him in a letter how badly things had
gone with them, and how the innkeeper had cheated them of ther
beautiful wishing-gifts on the last evening before they reached
home. When the turner had served his time, and had to set out on
his travels, as he had conducted himself so well, his master
presented him with a sack and said, there is a cudgel in it. I
can put on the sack, said he, and it may be of good service to
me, but why should the cudgel be in it. It only makes it heavy.
I will tell you why, replied the master. If anyone has done
anything to injure you, do but say, out of the sack, cudgel. And
the cudgel will leap forth among the people, and play such a
dance on their backs that they will not be able to stir or move
for a week, and it will not leave off until you say, into the
sack, cudgel. The apprentice thanked him, and put the sack on
his back, and when anyone came too near him, and wished to
attack him, he said, out of the sack, cudgel, and instantly the
cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of one after
the other on their backs, and never stopped until it had
stripped it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before
anyone was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening
the young turner reached the inn where his brothers had been
cheated.
He laid his sack on the table before him, and began to talk
of all the wonderful things which he had seen in the world. Yes,
said he, people may easily find a table which will spread
itself, a gold-ass, and things of that kind - extremely good
things which I by no means despise - but these are nothing in
comparison with the treasure which I have won for myself, and am
carrying about with me in my sack there. The innkeeper pricked
up his ears. What in the world can that be. Thought he. The sack
must be filled with nothing but jewels. I ought to get them
cheap too, for all good things go in threes. When it was time
for sleep, the guest stretched himself on the bench, and laid
his sack beneath him for a pillow. When the innkeeper thought
his guest was lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed
and pulled quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he
could possibly draw it away and lay another in its place.
The turner, however, had been waiting for this for a long
time, and now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty
tug, he cried, out of the sack, cudgel. Instantly the little
cudgel came forth, and fell on the inn-keeper and gave him a
sound thrashing. The host cried for mercy. But the louder he
cried, the harder the cudgel beat the time on his back, until at
length he fell to the ground exhausted. Then the turner said, if
you do not give back the table which spreads itself, and the
gold-ass, the dance shall begin afresh. Oh, no, cried the host,
quite humbly, I will gladly produce everything, only make the
accursed kobold creep back into the sack. Then said the
apprentice, I will let mercy take the place of justice, but
beware of getting into mischief again. So he cried, into the
sack, cudgel. And let him have rest.
Next morning the turner went home to his father with the
wishing-table, and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw
him once more, and asked him likewise what he had learned in
foreign parts. Dear father, said he, I have become a turner. A
skilled trade, said the father. What have you brought back with
you from your travels.
A precious thing, dear father, replied the son, a cudgel in
the sack.
What cried the father, a cudgel. That's certainly worth your
trouble. From every tree you can cut yourself one. But not one
like this, dear father. If I say, out of the sack, cudgel, the
cudgel springs out and leads anyone ill-disposed toward me a
weary dance, and never stops until he lies on the ground and
prays for fair weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I
rescued the wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish
innkeeper took away from my brothers. Now let them both be sent
for, and invite all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to
drink, and will fill their pockets with gold into the bargain.
The old tailor had not much confidence. Nevertheless he summoned
the relatives together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the
room and led in the gold-ass, and said to his brother, now, dear
brother, speak to him. The miller said, bricklebrit, and
instantly the gold pices rained down on the cloth like a
thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop until every one of them
had so much that he could carry no more. - I can see by your
face that you also would have liked to be there. -
Then the turner brought the little table, and said, now dear
brother, speak to it. And scarcely had the carpenter said,
table, spread yourself, than it was spread and amply covered
with the most exquisite dishes. Then such a meal took place as
the good tailor had never yet known in his house, and the whole
party of kinsmen stayed together till far in the night, and were
all merry and glad. The tailor locked away needle and thread,
yard-measure and goose, in a closet, and lived with his three
sons in joy and splendor.
What, however, happened to the goat who was to blame for the
tailor driving out his three sons? That I will tell you. She was
ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a fox's hole and
crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two great
eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran
away. A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he
said, what is the matter with you, brother fox, why do you look
like that. Ah, answered redskin, a fierce beast is in my cave
and stared at me with its fiery eyes. We will soon drive him
out, said the bear, and went with him to the cave and looked in,
but when he saw the fiery eyes, fear seized on him likewise. He
would have nothing to do with the furious beast, and took to his
heels. The bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill at ease,
she said, bear, you are really pulling a very pitiful face. What
has become of all your gaiety. It is all very well for you to
talk, replied the bear, a furious beast with staring eyes is in
redskin's house, and we can't drive him out. The bee said, bear
I pity you, I am a poor weak creature whom you would not turn
aside to look at, but still, I believe, I can help you. She flew
into the fox's cave, lighted on the goat's smoothly-shorn head,
and stung her so violently, that she sprang up, crying meh, meh,
and ran forth into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one
knows where she has gone.
|
The Juniper-Tree
It is now long ago, quite two thousand years, since there was
a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and they loved
each other dearly. They had, however, no children, though they
wished for them very much, and the woman prayed for them day and
night, but still they had none. Now there was a court-yard in
front of their house in which was a juniper tree, and one day in
winter the woman was standing beneath it, paring herself an
apple, and while she was paring herself the apple she cut her
finger, and the blood fell on the snow. Ah, said the woman, and
sighed right heavily, and looked at the blood before her, and
was most unhappy, ah, if I had but a child as red as blood and
as white as snow. And while she thus spoke, she became quite
happy in her mind, and felt just as if that were going to
happen. Then she went into the house and a month went by and the
snow was gone, and two months, and then everything was green,
and three months, and then all the flowers came out of the
earth, and four months, and then all the trees in the wood grew
thicker, and the green branches were all closely entwined, and
the birds sang until the wood resounded and the blossoms fell
from the trees, then the fifth month passed away and she stood
under the juniper tree, which smelt so sweetly that her heart
leapt, and she fell on her knees and was beside herself with
joy, and when the sixth month was over the fruit was large and
fine, and then she was quite still, and the seventh month she
snatched at the juniper-berries and ate them greedily, then she
grew sick and sorrowful, then the eighth month passed, and she
called her husband to her, and wept and said, if I die then bury
me beneath the juniper tree. Then she was quite comforted and
happy until the next month was over, and then she had a child as
white as snow and as red as blood, and when she beheld it she
was so delighted that she died.
Then her husband buried her beneath the juniper tree, and he
began to weep sore, after some time he was more at ease, and
though he still wept he could bear it, and after some time
longer he took another wife.
By the second wife he had a daughter, but the first wife's
child was a little son, and he was as red as blood and as white
as snow. When the woman looked at her daughter she loved her
very much, but then she looked at the little boy and it seemed
to cut her to the heart, for the thought came into her mind that
he would always stand in her way, and she was for ever thinking
how she could get all the fortune for her daughter, and the evil
one filled her mind with this till she was quite wroth with the
little boy and she pushed him from one corner to the other and
slapped him here and cuffed him there, until the poor child was
in continual terror, for when he came out of school he had no
peace in any place.
One day the woman had gone upstairs to her room, and her
little daughter went up too, and said, mother, give me an apple.
Yes, my child, said the woman, and gave her a fine apple out of
the chest, but the chest had a great heavy lid with a great
sharp iron lock. Mother, said the little daughter, is brother
not to have one too. This made the woman angry, but she said,
yes, when he comes out of school. And when she saw from the
window that he was coming, it was just as if the devil entered
into her, and she snatched at the apple and took it away again
from her daughter, and said, you shall not have one before your
brother.
Then she threw the apple into the chest, and shut it. Then
the little boy came in at the door, and the devil made her say
to him kindly, my son, will you have an apple. And she looked
wickedly at him. Mother, said the little boy, how dreadful you
look. Yes, give me an apple. Then it seemed to her as if she
were forced to say to him, come with me, and she opened the lid
of the chest and said, take out an apple for yourself, and while
the little boy was stooping inside, the devil prompted her, and
crash. She shut the lid down, and his head flew off and fell
among the red apples. Then she was overwhelmed with terror, and
thought, if I could but make them think that it was not done by
me. So she went upstairs to her room to her chest of drawers,
and took a white handkerchief out of the top drawer, and set the
head on the neck again, and folded the handkerchief so that
nothing could be seen, and she set him on a chair in front of
the door, and put the apple in his hand.
After this Marlinchen came into the kitchen to her mother,
who was standing by the fire with a pan of hot water before her
which she was constantly stirring round. "Mother," said
Marlinchen, "brother is sitting at the door, and he looks quite
white and has an apple in his hand. I asked him to give me the
apple, but he did not answer me, and I was quite frightened."
"Go back to him," said her mother, "and if he will not answer
you, give him a box on the ear." So Marlinchen went to him and
said, "Brother, give me the apple." But he was silent, and she
gave him a box on the ear, whereupon his head fell off.
Marlinchen was terrified, and began crying and screaming, and
ran to her mother, and said, "Alas, mother, I have knocked my
brother's head off," and she wept and wept and could not be
comforted. "Marlinchen," said the mother, what have you done,
but be quiet and let no one know it, it cannot be helped now, we
will make him into black-puddings." Then the mother took the
little boy and chopped him in pieces, put him into the pan and
made him into black puddings, but Marlinchen stood by weeping
and weeping, and all her tears fell into the pan and there was
no need of any salt.
Then the father came home, and sat down to dinner and said,
"But where is my son?" And the mother served up a great dish of
black-puddings, and Marlinchen wept and could not leave off.
Then the father again said, "But where is my son?" "Ah," said
the mother, "he has gone across the coutry to his mother's great
uncle, he will stay there awhile." "And what is he going to do
there? He did not even say good-bye to me."
"Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he might stay six
weeks, he is well taken care of there." "Ah," said the man, "I
feel so unhappy lest all should not be right. He ought to have
said good-bye to me." With that he began to eat and said,
"Marlinchen, why are you crying? Your brother will certainly
come back." Then he said, "Ah, wife, how delicious this food is,
give me some more." And the more he ate the more he wanted to
have, and he said, "Give me some more, you shall have none of
it. It seems to me as if it were all mine." And he ate and ate
and threw all the bones under the table, until he had finished
the whole. But Marlinchen went away to her chest of drawers, and
took her best silk handkerchief out of the bottom draw, and got
all the bones from beneath the table, and tied them up in her
silk handkerchief, and carried them outside the door, weeping
tears of blood. Then she lay down under the juniper tree on the
green grass, and after she had lain down there, she suddenly
felt light-hearted and did not cry any more. Then the juniper
tree began to stir itself, and the branches parted asunder, and
moved together again, just as if someone were rejoicing and
clapping his hands. At the same time a mist seemed to arise from
the tree, and in the center of this mist it burned like a fire,
and a beautiful bird flew out of the fire singing magnificently,
and he flew high up in the air, and when he was gone, the
juniper tree was just as it had been before, and the
handkerchief with the bones was no longer there. Marlinchen,
however, was as gay and happy as if her brother were still
alive. And she went merrily into the house, and sat down to
dinner and ate.
But the bird flew away and lighted on a goldsmith's house,
and began to sing - my mother she killed me, my father he ate
me, my sister, little marlinchen, gathered together all my
bones, tied them in a silken handkerchief, laid them beneath the
juniper tree, kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
The goldsmith was sitting in his workshop making a golden
chain, when he heard the bird which was sitting singing on his
roof, and very beautiful the song seemed to him. He stood up,
but as he crossed the threshold he lost one of his slippers. But
he went away right up the middle of the street with one shoe on
and one sock, he had his apron on, and in one hand he had the
golden chain and in the other the pincers, and the sun was
shining brightly on the street. Then he went right on and stood
still, and said to the bird, "Bird," said he then, "how
beautifully you can sing. Sing me that piece again." "No," said
the bird, "I'll not sing it twice for nothing. Give me the
golden chain, and then I will sing it again for you." "There,"
said the goldsmith, "there is the golden chain for you, now sing
me that song again." Then the bird came and took the golden
chain in his right claw, and went and sat in front of the
goldsmith, and sang -
my mother she killed me, my father he ate me, my sister,
little marlinchen, gathered together all my bones, tied them in
a silken handkerchief, laid them beneath the juniper tree,
kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then the bird flew away to a shoemaker, and lighted on his
roof and sang -
my mother she killed me, my father he ate me, my sister,
little marlinchen, gathered together all my bones, tied them in
a silken handkerchief, laid them beneath the juniper tree,
kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
The shoemaker heard that and ran out of doors in his shirt
sleeves, and looked up at his roof, and was forced to hold his
hand before his eyes lest the sun should blind him. "Bird," said
he, "how beautifully you can sing." Then he called in at his
door, "Wife, just come outside, there is a bird, look at that
bird, he certainly can sing." Then he called his daughter and
children, and apprentices, boys and girls, and they all came up
the street and looked at the bird and saw how beautiful he was,
and what fine red and green feathers he had, and how like real
gold his neck was, and how the eyes in his head shone like
stars. "Bird," said the shoemaker, "now sing me that song
again." "Nay," said the bird, "I do not sing twice for nothing,
you must give me something." "Wife," said the man, "go to the
garret, upon the top shelf there stands a pair of red shoes,
bring them down." Then the wife went and brought the shoes.
"There, bird," said the man, "now sing me that piece again."
Then the bird came and took the shoes in his left claw, and flew
back on the roof, and sang - my mother she killed me, my father
he ate me, my sister, little Marlinchen, gathered together all
my bones, tied them in a silken handkerchief, laid them beneath
the juniper tree, kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
and when he had finished his song he flew away. In his right
claw he had the chain and in his left the shoes, and he flew far
away to a mill, and the mill went, klipp klapp, klipp klapp,
klipp klapp, and in the mill sat twenty miller's men hewing a
stone, and cutting, hick hack, hick hack, hick hack, and the
mill went klipp klapp, klipp klapp'klipp klapp. Then the bird
went and sat on a lime-tree which stood in front of the mill,
and sang - my mother she killed me, then one of them stopped
working, my father he ate me, then two more stopped working and
listened to that, my sister, little Marlinchen, then four more
stopped, gathered together all my bones, tied them in a silken
handkerchief, now eight only were hewing, laid them beneath, now
only five, the juniper tree, and now only one, kywitt, kywitt,
what a beautiful bird am I.
Then the last stopped also, and heard the last words. "Bird,"
said he, "how beautifully you sing. Let me, too, hear that. Sing
that once more for me."
"Nay," said the bird, "I will not sing twice for nothing.
Give me the millstone, and then I will sing it again."
"Yes," said he, "if it belonged to me only, you should have
it." "Yes," said the others, "if he sings again he shall have
it." Then the bird came down, and the twenty millers all set to
work with a beam and raised the stone up. And the bird stuck his
neck through the hole, and put the stone on as if it were a
collar, and flew on to the tree again, and sang - my mother she
killed me, my father he ate me, my sister, little Marlinchen,
gathered together all my bones, tied them in a silken
handkerchief, laid them beneath the juniper tree, kywitt,
kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
And when he had done singing, he spread his wings, and in his
right claw he had the chain, and in his left the shoes, and
round his neck the millstone, and he flew far away to his
father's house.
In the room sat the father, the mother, and Marlinchen at
dinner, and the father said, "How light-hearted I feel, how
happy I am." "Nay," said the mother, "I feel so uneasy, just as
if a heavy storm were coming." Marlinchen, however, sat weeping
and weeping, and then came the bird flying, and as it seated
itself on the roof the father said, "Ah, I feel so truly happy,
and the sun is shining so beautifully outside, I feel just as if
I were about to see some old friend again." "Nay," said the
woman, "I feel so anxious, my teeth chatter, and I seem to have
fire in my veins." And she tore her stays open, but Marlinchen
sat in a corner crying, and held her plate before her eyes and
cried till it was quite wet. Then the bird sat on the juniper
tree, and sang - my mother she killed me, then the mother
stopped her ears, and shut her eyes, and would not see or hear,
but there was a roaring in her ears like the most violent storm,
and her eyes burnt and flashed like lightning - my father he ate
me, "Ah, mother," says the man, "that is a beautiful bird. He
sings so splendidly, and the sun shines so warm, and there is a
smell just like cinnamon." My sister, little Marlinchen, then
Marlinchen laid her head on her knees and wept without ceasing,
but the man said, "I am going out, I must see the bird quite
close." "Oh, don't go," said the woman, "I feel as if the whole
house were shaking and on fire." But the man went out and looked
at the bird. gathered together all my bones, tied them in a
silken handkerchief, laid them beneath the juniper tree, kywitt,
kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I on this the bird let the
golden chain fall, and it fell exactly round the man's neck, and
so exactly round it that it fitted beautifully. Then he went in
and said, "just look what a fine bird that is, and what a
handsome golden chain he has given me, and how pretty he is."
But the woman was terrified, and fell down on the floor in the
room, and her cap fell off her head. Then sang the bird once
more - my mother she killed me. "Would that I were a thousand
feet beneath the earth so as not to hear that." My father he ate
me, then the woman fell down again as if dead. My sister, little
marlinchen, "Ah," said Marlinchen, "I too will go out and see if
the bird will give me anything," and she went out. Gathered
together all my bones, tied them in a silken handkerchief, then
he threw down the shoes to her. Laid them beneath the juniper
tree, kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then she was light-hearted and joyous, and she put on the new
red shoes, and danced and leaped into the house. "Ah," said she,
"I was so sad when I went out and now I am so light-hearted,
that is a splendid bird, he has given me a pair of red shoes."
"Well," said the woman, and sprang to her feet and her hair
stood up like flames of fire, "I feel as if the world were
coming to an end. I too, will go out and see if my heart feels
lighter." And as she went out at the door, crash. The bird threw
down the millstone on her head, and she was entirely crushed by
it.
The father and Marlinchen heard what had happened and went
out, and smoke, flames, and fire were rising from the place, and
when that was over, there stood the little brother, and he took
his father and Marlinchen by the hand, and all three were right
glad, and they went into the house to dinner, and ate.
|
The Six Swans
Once upon a time, a certain king was hunting in a great
forest, and he chased a wild beast so eagerly that none of his
attendants could follow him. When evening drew near he stopped
and looked around him, and then he saw that he had lost his way.
He sought a way out, but could find none. Then he perceived an
aged woman with a head which nodded perpetually, who came
towards him, but she was a witch. Good woman, said he to her,
can you not show me the way through the forest. Oh, yes, lord
king, she answered, that I certainly can, but on one condition,
and if you do not fulfil that, you will never get out of the
forest, and will die of hunger in it.
What kind of condition is it, asked the king. I have a
daughter, said the old woman, who is as beautiful as anyone in
the world, and well deserves to be your consort, and if you will
make her your queen, I will show you the way out of the forest.
In the anguish of his heart the king consented, and the old
woman led him to her little hut, where her daughter was sitting
by the fire. She received the king as if she had been expecting
him, and he saw that she was very beautiful, but still she did
not please him, and he could not look at her without secret
horror. After he had taken the maiden up on his horse, the old
woman showed him the way, and the king reached his royal palace
again, where the wedding was celebrated.
The king had already been married once, and had by his first
wife, seven children, six boys and a girl, whom he loved better
than anything else in the world. As he now feared that the
stepmother might not treat them well, and even do them some
injury, he took them to a lonely castle which stood in the midst
of a forest. It lay so concealed, and the way was so difficult
to find that he himself would not have found it, if a wise woman
had not given him a ball of yarn with wonderful properties. When
he threw it down before him, it unrolled itself and showed him
his path.
The king, however, went so frequently away to his dear
children that the queen observed his absence, she was curious
and wanted to know what he did when he was quite alone in the
forest. She gave a great deal of money to his servants, and they
betrayed the secret to her, and told her likewise of the ball
which alone could point out the way. And now she knew no rest
until she had learnt where the king kept the ball of yarn, and
then she made little shirts of white silk, and as she had learnt
the art of witchcraft from her mother, she sewed a charm inside
them. And once when the king had ridden forth to hunt, she took
the little shirts and went into the forest, and the ball showed
her the way.
The children, who saw from a distance that someone was
approaching, thought that their dear father was coming to them,
and full of joy, ran to meet him. Then she threw one of the
little shirts over each of them, and no sooner had the shirts
touched their bodies than they were changed into swans, and flew
away over the forest. The queen went home quite delighted, and
thought she had got rid of her step-children, but the girl had
not run out with her brothers, and the queen knew nothing about
her.
Next day the king went to visit his children, but he found no
one but the little girl. Where are your brothers, asked the
king. Alas, dear father, she answered, they have gone away and
left me alone, and she told him that she had seen from her
little window how her brothers had flown away over the forest in
the shape of swans, and she showed him the feathers, which they
had let fall in the courtyard, and which she had picked up.
The king mourned, but he did not think that the queen had
done this wicked deed, and as he feared that the girl would also
be stolen away from him, he wanted to take her away with him.
But she was afraid of her step-mother, and entreated the king to
let her stay just this one night more in the forest castle.
The poor girl thought, I can no longer stay here. I will go
and seek my brothers. And when night came, she ran away, and
went straight into the forest. She walked the whole night long,
and next day also without stopping, until she could go no
farther for weariness. Then she saw a forest-hut, and went into
it, and found a room with six little beds, but she did not
venture to get into one of them, but crept under one, and lay
down on the hard ground, intending to pass the night there. Just
before sunset, however, she heard a rustling, and saw six swans
come flying in at the window. They alighted on the ground and
blew at each other, and blew all the feathers off, and their
swans, skins stripped off like a shirt. Then the maiden looked
at them and recognized her brothers, was glad and crept forth
from beneath the bed. The brothers were not less delighted to
see their little sister, but their joy was of short duration.
Here you cannot abide, they said to her. This is a shelter for
robbers, if they come home and find you, they will kill you. But
can you not protect me, asked the little sister. No, they
replied, only for one quarter of an hour each evening can we lay
aside our swans, skins and have during that time our human form,
after that, we are once more turned into swans.
The little sister wept and said, can you not be set free.
Alas, no, they answered, the conditions are too hard. For six
years you may neither speak nor laugh, and in that time you must
sew together six little shirts of starwort for us. And if one
single word falls from your lips, all your work will be lost.
And when the brothers had said this, the quarter of an hour was
over, and they flew out of the window again as swans.
The maiden, however, firmly resolved to deliver her brothers,
even if it should cost her her life. She left the hut, went into
the midst of the forest, seated herself on a tree, and there
passed the night. Next morning she went out and gathered
starwort and began to sew. She could not speak to anyone, and
she had no inclination to laugh, she sat there and looked at
nothing but her work.
When she had already spent a long time there it came to pass
that the king of the country was hunting in the forest, and his
huntsmen came to the tree on which the maiden was sitting. They
called to her and said, who are you. But she made no answer.
Come down to us, said they. We will not do you any harm. She
only shook her head. As they pressed her further with questions
she threw her golden necklace down to them, and thought to
content them thus. They, however, did not cease, and then she
threw her girdle down to them, and as this also was to no
purpose, her garters, and by degrees everything that she had on
that she could do without until she had nothing left but her
shift.
The huntsmen, however, did not let themselves be turned aside
by that, but climbed the tree and fetched the maiden down and
led her before the king. The king asked, who are you. What are
you doing on the tree. But she did not answer. He put the
question in every language that he knew, but she remained as
mute as a fish. As she was so beautiful, the king's heart was
touched, and he was smitten with a great love for her. He put
his mantle on her, took her before him on his horse, and carried
her to his castle. Then he caused her to be dressed in rich
garments, and she shone in her beauty like bright daylight, but
no word could be drawn from her. He placed her by his side at
table, and her modest bearing and courtesy pleased him so much
that he said, she is the one whom I wish to marry, and no other
woman in the world. And after some days he united himself to
her.
The king, however, had a wicked mother who was dissatisfied
with this marriage and spoke ill of the young queen. Who knows,
said she, from whence the creature who can't speak, comes. She
is not worthy of a king. After a year had passed, when the queen
brought her first child into the world, the old woman took it
away from her, and smeared her mouth with blood as she slept.
Then she went to the king and accused the queen of being a
man-eater. The king would not believe it, and would not suffer
anyone to do her any injury. She, however, sat continually
sewing at the shirts, and cared for nothing else.
The next time, when she again bore a beautiful boy, the false
mother-in-law used the same treachery, but the king could not
bring himself to give credit to her words. He said, she is too
pious and good to do anything of that kind, if she were not
dumb, and could defend herself, her innocence would come to
light.
But when the old woman stole away the newly-born child for
the third time, and accused the queen, who did not utter one
word of defence, the king could do no otherwise than deliver her
over to justice, and she was sentenced to suffer death by fire.
When the day came for the sentence to be carried out, it was
the last day of the six years during which she was not to speak
or laugh, and she had delivered her dear brothers from the power
of the enchantment. The six shirts were ready, only the left
sleeve of the sixth was wanting. When, therefore, she was led to
the stake, she laid the shirts on her arm, and when she stood on
high and the fire was just going to be lighted, she looked
around and six swans came flying through the air towards her.
Then she saw that her deliverance was near, and her heart leapt
with joy. The swans swept towards her and sank down so that they
were touched by them, their swans, skins fell off, and her
brothers stood in their own bodily form before her, and were
vigorous and handsome. The youngest only lacked his left arm,
and had in the place of it a swan's wing on his shoulder. They
embraced and kissed each other, and the queen went to the king,
who was greatly moved, and she began to speak and said, dearest
husband, now I may speak and declare to you that I am innocent,
and falsely accused. And she told him of the treachery of the
old woman who had taken away her three children and hidden them.
Then to the great joy of the king they were brought thither,
and as a punishment, the wicked mother-in-law was bound to the
stake, and burnt to ashes. But the king and the queen with her
six brothers lived many years in happiness and peace.
|
King Thrushbeard
A king had a daughter who was beautiful beyond all measure,
but so proud and haughty withal that no suitor was good enough
for her. She sent away one after the other, and ridiculed them
as well.
Once the king made a great feast and invited thereto, from
far and near, all the young men likely to marry. They were all
marshalled in a row according to their rank and standing. First
came the kings, then the grand-dukes, then the princes, the
earls, the barons, and the gentry. Then the king's daughter was
led through the ranks, but to each one she had some objection to
make. One was too fat, the wine-barrel, she said. Another was
too tall, long and thin has little in. The third was too short,
short and thick is never quick. The fourth was too pale, as pale
as death. The fifth too red, a fighting cock. The sixth was not
straight enough, a green log dried behind the stove.
So she had something to say against each one, but she made
herself especially merry over a good king who stood quite high
up in the row, and whose chin had grown a little crooked. Look,
she cried and laughed, he has a chin like a thrush's beak. And
from that time he got the name of king thrushbeard.
But the old king, when he saw that his daugher did nothing
but mock the people, and despised all the suitors who were
gathered there, was very angry, and swore that she should have
for her husband the very first beggar that came to his doors.
A few days afterwards a fiddler came and sang beneath the
windows, trying to earn a few pennies. When the king heard him
he said, let him come up. So the fiddler came in, in his dirty,
ragged clothes, and sang before the king and his daughter, and
when he had ended he asked for a trifling gift. The king said,
your song has pleased me so well that I will give you my
daughter there, to wife.
The king's daughter shuddered, but the king said, I have
taken an oath to give you to the very first beggar-man and I
will keep it. All she could say was in vain. The priest was
brought, and she had to let herself be wedded to the fiddler on
the spot. When that was done the king said, now it is not proper
for you, a beggar-woman, to stay any longer in my palace, you
may just go away with your husband.
The beggar-man led her out by the hand, and she was obliged
to walk away on foot with him. When they came to a large forest
she asked, to whom does that beautiful forest belong. It belongs
to king thrushbeard. If you had taken him, it would have been
yours. Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I had but taken king
thrushbeard.
Afterwards they came to a meadow, and she asked again, to
whom does this beautiful green meadow belong. It belongs to king
thrushbeard. If you had taken him, it would have been yours. Ah,
unhappy girl that I am, if I had but taken king thrushbeard.
Then they came to a large town, and she asked again, to whom
does this fine large town belong. It belongs to king
thrushbeard. If you had taken him, it would have been yours. Ah,
unhappy girl that I am, if I had but taken king thrushbeard. It
does not please me, said the fiddler, to hear you always wishing
for another husband. Am I not good enough for you.
At last they came to a very little hut, and she said, oh
goodness. What a small house. To whom does this miserable, tiny
hovel belong. The fiddler answered, that is my house and yours,
where we shall live together.
She had to stoop in order to go in at the low door. Where are
the servants, said the king's daughter. What servants, answered
the beggar-man. You must yourself do what you wish to have done.
Just make a fire at once, and set on water to cook my supper, I
am quite tired. But the king's daughter knew nothing about
lighting fires or cooking, and the beggar-man had to lend a hand
himself to get anything fairly done. When they had finished
their scanty meal they went to bed. But he forced her to get up
quite early in the morning in order to look after the house.
For a few days they lived in this way as well as might be,
and came to the end of all their provisions. Then the man said,
wife, we cannot go on any longer eating and drinking here and
earning nothing. You must make baskets. He went out, cut some
willows, and brought them home. Then she began to make baskets,
but the tough willows wounded her delicate hands.
I see that this will not do, said the man. You had better
spin, perhaps you can do that better. She sat down and tried to
spin, but the hard thread soon cut her soft fingers so that the
blood ran down. See, said the man, you are fit for no sort of
work. I have made a bad bargain with you. Now I will try to make
a business with pots and earthenware. You must sit in the
market-place and sell the ware. Alas, thought she, if any of the
people from my father's kingdom come to the market and see me
sitting there, selling, how they will mock me. But it was of no
use, she had to yield unless she chose to die of hunger. For the
first time she succeeded well, for the people were glad to buy
the woman's wares because she was good-looking, and they paid
her what she asked. Many even gave her the money and left the
pots with her as well. So they lived on what she had earned as
long as it lasted, then the husband bought a lot of new
crockery. With this she sat down at the corner of the
market-place, and set it out round about her ready for sale. But
suddenly there came a drunken hussar galloping along, and he
rode right amongst the pots so that they were all broken into a
thousand bits. She began to weep, and did now know what to do
for fear. Alas, what will happen to me, cried she. What will my
husband say to this. She ran home and told him of the
misfortune. Who would seat herself at a corner of the
market-place with crockery, said the man. Leave off crying, I
see very well that you cannot do any ordinary work, so I have
been to our king's palace and have asked whether they cannot
find a place for a kitchen-maid, and they have promised me to
take you. In that way you will get your food for nothing.
The king's daughter was now a kitchen-maid, and had to be at
the cook's beck and call, and do the dirtiest work. In both her
pockets she fastened a little jar, in which she took home her
share of the leavings, and upon this they lived.
It happened that the wedding of the king's eldest son was to
be celebrated, so the poor woman went up and placed herself by
the door of the hall to look on. When all the candles were lit,
and people, each more beautiful than the other, entered, and all
was full of pomp and splendor, she thought of her lot with a sad
heart, and cursed the pride and haughtiness which had humbled
her and brought her to so great poverty.
The smell of the delicious dishes which were being taken in
and out reached her, and now and then the servants threw her a
few morsels of them. These she put in her jars to take home.
All at once the king's son entered, clothed in velvet and
silk, with gold chains about his neck. And when he saw the
beautiful woman standing by the door he seized her by the hand,
and would have danced with her. But she refused and shrank with
fear, for she saw that it was king thrushbeard, her suitor whom
she had driven away with scorn. Her struggles were of no avail,
he drew her into the hall. But the string by which her pockets
were hung broke, the pots fell down, the soup ran out, and the
scraps were scattered all about. And when the people saw it,
there arose general laughter and derision, and she was so
ashamed that she would rather have been a thousand fathoms below
the ground. She sprang to the door and would have run away, but
on the stairs a man caught her and brought her back. And when
she looked at him it was king thrushbeard again. He said to her
kindly, do not be afraid, I and the fiddler who has been living
with you in that wretched hovel are one. For love of you I
disguised myself so. And I also was the hussar who rode through
your crockery. This was all done to humble your proud spirit,
and to punish you for the insolence with which you mocked me.
Then she wept bitterly and said, I have done great wrong, and
am not worthy to be your wife. But he said, be comforted, the
evil days are past. Now we will celebrate our wedding. Then the
maids-in-waiting came and put on her the most splendid clothing,
and her father and his whole court came and wished her happiness
in her marriage with king thrushbeard, and the joy now began in
earnest. I wish you and I had been there too.
|
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of
snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at a
window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black
ebony. And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window
at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three
drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty
upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, would that I
had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as
the wood of the window-frame.
Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white
as snow, and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as
ebony, and she was therefore called little snow-white. And when
the child was born, the queen died.
After a year had passed the king took to himself another
wife. She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she
could not bear that anyone else chould surpass her in beauty.
She had a wonderful looking-glass, and when she stood in front
of it and looked at herself in it, and said, looking-glass,
looking-glass, on the wall, who in this land is the fairest of
all.
The looking-glass answered, thou, o queen, art the fairest of
all.
Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the looking-glass
spoke the truth.
But snow-white was growing up, and grew more and more
beautiful, and when she was seven years old she was as beautiful
as the day, and more beautiful than the queen herself. And once
when the queen asked her looking-glass, looking-glass,
looking-glass, on the wall, who in this land is the fairest of
all.
It answered, thou art fairer than all who are here, lady
queen. But more beautiful still is snow-white, as I ween.
Then the queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with
envy. From that hour, whenever she looked at snow-white, her
heart heaved in her breast, she hated the girl so much. And envy
and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed, so
that she had no peace day or night. She called a huntsman, and
said, take the child away into the forest. I will no longer have
her in my sight. Kill her, and bring me back her lung and liver
as a token. The huntsman obeyed, and took her away but when he
had drawn his knife, and was about to pierce snow-white's
innocent heart, she began to weep, and said, ah dear huntsman,
leave me my life. I will run away into the wild forest, and
never come home again.
And as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on her and
said, run away, then, you poor child. The wild beasts will soon
have devoured you, thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone
had been rolled from his heart since it was no longer needful
for him to kill her. And as a young bear just then came running
by he stabbed it, and cut out its lung and liver and took them
to the queen as proof that the child was dead. The cook had to
salt them, and the wicked queen ate them, and thought she had
eaten the lung and liver of snow-white.
But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and
so terrified that she looked at all the leaves on the trees, and
did not know what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over
sharp stones and through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past
her, but did her no harm.
She ran as long as her feet would go until it was almost
evening, then she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest
herself. Everything in the cottage was small, but neater and
cleaner than can be told. There was a table on which was a white
cover, and seven little plates, and on each plate a little
spoon, moreover, there were seven little knives and forks, and
seven little mugs. Against the wall stood seven little beds side
by side, and covered with snow-white counterpanes.
Little snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she ate some
vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine
out of each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only.
Then, as she was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the
little beds, but none of them suited her, one was too long,
another too short, but at last she found that the seventh one
was right, and so she remained in it, said a prayer and went to
sleep.
When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back.
They were seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for
ore. They lit their seven candles, and as it was now light
within the cottage they saw that someone had been there, for
everything was not in the same order in which they had left it.
The first said, who has been sitting on my chair. The second,
who has been eating off my plate. The third, who has been taking
some of my bread. The fourth, who has been eating my vegetables.
The fifth, who has been using my fork. The sixth, who has been
cutting with my knife. The seventh, who has been drinking out of
my mug.
Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little
hollow on his bed, and he said, who has been getting into my
bed. The others came up and each called out, somebody has been
lying in my bed too. But the seventh when he looked at his bed
saw little snow-white, who was lying asleep therein. And he
called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with
astonishment, and brought their seven little candles and let the
light fall on little snow-white. Oh, heavens, oh, heavens, cried
they, what a lovely child. And they were so glad that they did
not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the
seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and
so passed the night.
When it was morning little snow-white awoke, and was
frightened when she saw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly
and asked her what her name was. My name is snow-white, she
answered. How have you come to our house, said the dwarfs. Then
she told them that her step-mother had wished to have her
killed, but that the huntsman had spared her life, and that she
had run for the whole day, until at last she had found their
dwelling.
The dwarfs said, if you will take care of our house, cook,
make the beds, wash, sew and knit, and if you will keep
everything neat and clean you can stay with us and you shall
want for nothing. Yes, said snow-white, with all my heart. And
she stayed with them. She kept the house in order for them. In
the mornings they went to the mountains and looked for copper
and gold, in the evenings they came back, and then their supper
had to be ready. The girl was alone the whole day, so the good
dwarfs warned her and said, beware of your step-mother, she will
soon know that you are here, be sure to let no one come in.
But the queen, believing that she had eaten snow-white's lung
and liver, could not but think that she was again the first and
most beautiful of all, and she went to her looking-glass and
said, looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall, who in this
land is the fairest of all.
And the glass answered, oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I
see, but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well, and none is so fair as she.
Then she was astounded, for she knew that the looking-glass
never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed
her, and that little snow-white was still alive.
And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her,
for so long as she was not the fairest in the whole land, envy
let her have no rest. And when she had at last thought of
something to do, she painted her face, and dressed herself like
an old pedlar-woman, and no one could have known her. In this
disguise she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs,
and knocked at the door and cried, pretty things to sell, very
cheap, very cheap. Little snow-white looked out of the window
and called out, good-day my good woman, what have you to sell.
Good things, pretty things, she answered, stay-laces of all
colors, and she pulled out one which was woven of bright-colored
silk. I may let the worthy old woman in, thought snow-white, and
she unbolted the door and bought the pretty laces. Child, said
the old woman, what a fright you look, come, I will lace you
properly for once. Snow-white had no suspicion, but stood before
her, and let herself be laced with the new laces. But the old
woman laced so quickly and so tightly that snow-white lost her
breath and fell down as if dead. Now I am the most beautiful,
said the queen to herself, and ran away.
Not long afterwards, in the evening, the seven dwarfs came
home, but how shocked they were when they saw their dear little
snow-white lying on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor
moved, and seemed to be dead. They lifted her up, and, as they
saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the laces, then she
began to breathe a little, and after a while came to life again.
When the dwarfs heard what had happened they said, the old
pedlar-woman was no one else than the wicked queen, take care
and let no one come in when we are not with you.
But the wicked woman when she had reached home went in front
of the glass and asked, looking-glass, looking-glass, on the
wall, who in this land is the fairest of all.
And it answered as before, oh, queen, thou art fairest of all
I see, but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well, and none is so fair as she.
When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with
fear, for she saw plainly that little snow-white was again
alive. But now, she said, I will think of something that shall
really put an end to you. And by the help of witchcraft, which
she understood, she made a poisonous comb. Then she disguised
herself and took the shape of another old woman. So she went
over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, knocked at the
door, and cried, good things to sell, cheap, cheap. Little
snow-white looked out and said, go away, I cannot let anyone
come in. I suppose you can look, said the old woman, and pulled
the poisonous comb out and held it up. It pleased the girl so
well that she let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When
they had made a bargain the old woman said, now I will comb you
properly for once. Poor little snow-white had no suspicion, and
let the old woman do as she pleased, but hardly had she put the
comb in her hair than the poison in it took effect, and the girl
fell down senseless. You paragon of beauty, said the wicked
woman, you are done for now, and she went away.
But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven dwarfs
came home. When they saw snow-white lying as if dead upon the
ground they at once suspected the step-mother, and they looked
and found the poisoned comb. Scarcely had they taken it out when
snow-white came to herself, and told them what had happened.
Then they warned her once more to be upon her guard and to open
the door to no one.
The queen, at home, went in front of the glass and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall, who in this land is
the fairest of all.
Then it answered as before, oh, queen, thou art fairest of
all I see, but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well, and none is so fair as she.
When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and shook
with rage. Snow-white shall die, she cried, even if it costs me
my life.
Thereupon she went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no
one ever came, and there she made a very poisonous apple.
Outside it looked pretty, white with a red cheek, so that
everyone who saw it longed for it, but whoever ate a piece of it
must surely die.
When the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed
herself up as a farmer's wife, and so she went over the seven
mountains to the seven dwarfs. She knocked at the door.
Snow-white put her head out of the window and said, I cannot let
anyone in, the seven dwarfs have forbidden me. It is all the
same to me, answered the woman, I shall soon get rid of my
apples. There, I will give you one.
No, said snow-white, I dare not take anything. Are you afraid
of poison, said the old woman, look, I will cut the apple in two
pieces, you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white. The
apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was
poisoned. Snow-white longed for the fine apple, and when she saw
that the woman ate part of it she could resist no longer, and
stretched out her hand and took the poisonous half. But hardly
had she a bit of it in her mouth than she fell down dead. Then
the queen looked at her with a dreadful look, and laughed aloud
and said, white as snow, red as blood, black as ebony-wood, this
time the dwarfs cannot wake you up again.
And when she asked of the looking-glass at home,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall, who in this land is
the fairest of all.
And it answered at last, oh, queen, in this land thou art
fairest of all. Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an
envious heart can have rest.
The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found
snow-white lying upon the ground, she breathed no longer and was
dead. They lifted her up, looked to see whether they could find
anything poisonous, unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her
with water and wine, but it was all of no use, the poor child
was dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon a bier, and all
seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept three days
long.
Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if
she were living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said,
we could not bury her in the dark ground, and they had a
transparent coffin of glass made, so that she could be seen from
all sides, and they laid her in it, and wrote her name upon it
in golden letters, and that she was a king's daughter. Then they
put the coffin out upon the mountain, and one of them always
stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and wept for
snow-white, first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.
And now snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin, and
she did not change, but looked as if she were asleep, for she
was as white as snow, as red as blood, and her hair was as black
as ebony.
It happened, however, that a king's son came into the forest,
and went to the dwarfs, house to spend the night. He saw the
coffin on the mountain, and the beautiful snow-white within it,
and read what was written upon it in golden letters. Then he
said to the dwarfs, let me have the coffin, I will give you
whatever you want for it. But the dwarfs answered, we will not
part with it for all the gold in the world. Then he said, let me
have it as a gift, for I cannot live without seeing snow-white.
I will honor and prize her as my dearest possession. As he spoke
in this way the good dwarfs took pity upon him, and gave him the
coffin.
And now the king's son had it carried away by his servants on
their shoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a
tree-stump, and with the shock the poisonous piece of apple
which snow-white had bitten off came out of her throat. And
before long she opened her eyes, lifted up the lid of the
coffin, sat up, and was once more alive. Oh, heavens, where am
I, she cried. The king's son, full of joy, said, you are with
me. And told her what had happened, and said, I love you more
than everything in the world, come with me to my father's
palace, you shall be my wife.
And snow-white was willing, and went with him, and their
wedding was held with great show and splendor. But snow-white's
wicked step-mother was also bidden to the feast. When she had
arrayed herself in beautiful clothes she went before the
looking-glass, and said, looking-glass, looking-glass, on the
wall, who in this land is the fairest of all.
The glass answered, oh, queen, of all here the fairest art
thou, but the young queen is fairer by far as I trow.
Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so wretched,
so utterly wretched that she knew not what to do. At first she
would not go to the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and
had to go to see the young queen. And when she went in she
recognized snow-white, and she stood still with rage and fear,
and could not stir. But iron slippers had already been put upon
the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set before
her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance
until she dropped down dead.
|
The Knapsack, The Hat, and The Horn
There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper and
deeper into poverty, and at last their need was so great that
they had to endure hunger, and had nothing to eat or drink. Then
said they, it cannot go on like this, we had better go into the
world and seek our fortune. They therefore set out, and had
already walked over many a long road and many a blade of grass,
but had not yet met with good luck. One day they arrived in a
great forest, and in the midst of it was a hill, and when they
came nearer they saw that the hill was all silver. Then spoke
the eldest, now I have found the good luck I wished for, and I
desire nothing more. He took as much of the silver as he could
possibly carry, and then turned back and went home again.
But the two others said, we want something more from good
luck than mere silver, and did not touch it, but went onwards.
After they had walked for two days longer without stopping, they
came to a hill which was all gold. The second brother stopped,
took thought with himself, and was undecided. What shall I do,
said he, shall I take for myself so much of this gold, that I
have sufficient for all the rest of my life, or shall I go
farther. At length he made a decision, and putting as much into
his pockets as would go in, said farewell to his brother, and
went home.
But the third said, silver and gold do not move me, I will
not renounce my chance of fortune, perhaps something better
still will be given me. He journeyed onwards, and when he had
walked for three days, he came to a forest which was still
larger than the one before, and never would come to an end, and
as he found nothing to eat or to drink, he was all but
exhausted. Then he climbed up a high tree to find out if up
there he could see the end of the forest, but so far as his eye
could pierce he saw nothing but the tops of trees. Then he began
to descend the tree again, but hunger tormented him, and he
thought to himself, if I could but eat my fill once more.
When he got down he saw with astonishment a table beneath the
tree richly spread with food, the steam of which rose up to meet
him. This time, said he, my wish has been fulfilled at the right
moment. And without inquiring who had brought the food, or who
had cooked it, he approached the table, and ate with enjoyment
until he had appeased his hunger. When he was done, he thought,
it would after all be a pity if the pretty little table-cloth
were to be spoilt in the forest here, and folded it up tidily
and put it in his pocket. Then he went onwards, and in the
evening, when hunger once more returned to him, he wanted to
make a trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and said, I
wish you to be covered with good cheer again, and scarcely had
the wish crossed his lips than as many dishes with the most
exquisite food on them stood on the table as there was room for.
Now I perceive, said he, in what kitchen my cooking is done. You
shall be dearer to me than the mountains of silver and gold. For
he saw plainly that it was a wishing-cloth. The cloth, however,
was still not enough to enable him to sit down quietly at home,
he preferred to wander about the world and pursue his fortune
farther.
One night he met, in a lonely wood, a dusty, black
charcoal-burner, who was burning charcoal there, and had some
potatoes by the fire, on which he was going to make a meal. Good
evening, blackbird, said the youth. How do you get on in your
solitude.
One day is like another, replied the charcoal-burner, and
every night potatoes. Have you a mind to have some, and will you
be my guest. Many thanks, replied the traveler, I won't rob you
of your supper, you did not reckon on a visitor, but if you will
put up with what I have, you shall have an invitation. Who is to
prepare it for you, said the charcoal-burner. I see that you
have nothing with you, and there is no one within a two hours'
walk who could give you anything. And yet there shall be a meal,
answered the youth, and better than any you have ever tasted.
Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his knapsack, spread it on
the ground, and said, little cloth, cover yourself, and
instantly boiled meat and baked meat stood there, and as hot as
if it had just come out of the kitchen.
The charcoal-burner stared with wide-open eyes, but did not
require much pressing, he fell to, and thrust larger and larger
mouthfuls into his black mouth. When they had eaten everything,
the charcoal-burner smiled contentedly, and said, listen, your
table-cloth has my approval, it would be a fine thing for me in
this forest, where no one ever cooks me anything good. I will
propose an exchange to you, there in the corner hangs a
soldier's knapsack, which is certainly old and shabby, but in it
lie concealed wonderful powers, but, as I no longer use it, I
will give it to you for the table-cloth.
I must first know what these wonderful powers are, answered
the youth.
That will I tell you, replied the charcoal-burner, every time
you tap it with your hand, a corporal comes with six men armed
from head to foot, and they do whatsover you command them. So
far as I am concerned, said the youth, if nothing else can be
done, we will exchange, and he gave the charcoal-burner the
cloth, took the knapsack from the hook, put it on, and bade
farewell. When he had walked a while, he wished to make a trial
of the magical powers of his knapsack and tapped it. Immediately
the seven warriors stepped up to him, and the corporal said,
what does my lord and ruler wish for.
March with all speed to the charcoal-burner, and demand my
wishing-cloth back. They faced to the left, and it was not long
before they brought what he required, and had taken it from the
charcoal-burner without asking many questions. The young man
bade them retire, went onwards, and hoped fortune would shine
yet more brightly on him. By sunset he came to another
charcoal-burner, who was making his supper ready by the fire. If
you will eat some potatoes with salt, but with no dripping, come
and sit down with me, said the sooty fellow.
No, he replied, this time you shall be my guest, and he
spread out his cloth, which was instantly covered with the most
beautiful dishes. They ate and drank together, and enjoyed
themselves heartily. After the meal was over, the
charcoal-burner said, up there on that shelf lies a little old
worn-out hat which has strange properties - the moment someone
puts it on, and turns it round on his head, the cannons go off
as if twelve were fired all together, and they demolish
everything so that no one can withstand them. The hat is of no
use to me, and I will willingly give it for your tablecloth.
That suits me very well, he answered, took the hat, put it
on, and left his table-cloth behind him. But hardly had he
walked away than he tapped on his knapsack, and his soldiers had
to fetch the cloth back again. One thing comes on the top of
another, thought he, and I feel as if my luck had not yet come
to an end. Neither had his thoughts deceived him. After he had
walked on for the whole of one day, he came to a third
charcoal-burner, who like the previous one, invited him to
potatoes without dripping. But he let him also dine with him
from his wishing-cloth, and the charcoal-burner liked it so
well, that at last he offered him a horn for it, which had very
different properties from those of the hat. The moment someone
blew it all the walls and fortifications fell down, and all
towns and villages became ruins. For this he immediately gave
the charcoal-burner the cloth, but he afterwards sent his
soldiers to demand it back again, so that at length he had the
knapsack, hat and horn, all three. Now, said he, I am a made
man, and it is time for me to go home and see how my brothers
are getting on.
When he reached home, his brothers had built themselves a
handsome house with their silver and gold, and were living in
clover. He went to see them, but as he came in a ragged coat,
with his shabby hat on his head, and his old knapsack on his
back, they would not acknowledge him as their brother. They
mocked and said, you give out that you are our brother who
despised silver and gold, and craved for something still better
for himself. Such a person arrives in his carriage in full
splendor like a mighty king, not like a beggar, and they drove
him out of doors. Then he fell into a rage, and tapped his
knapsack until a hundred and fifty men stood before him armed
from head to foot. He commanded them to surround his brothers,
house, and two of them were to take hazelsticks with them, and
beat the two insolent men until they knew who he was.
A violent disturbance broke out, people ran together, and
wanted to lend the two some help in their need, but against the
soldiers they could do nothing. News of this at length came to
the king, who was very angry, and ordered a captain to march out
with his troop, and drive this disturber of the peace out of the
town, but the man with knapsack soon got a greater body of men
together, who repulsed the captain and his men, so that they
were forced to retire with bloody noses. The king said, this
vagabond is not brought to order yet, and next day sent a still
larger troop against him, but they could do even less. The youth
set still more men against them, and in order to be done the
sooner, he turned his hat twice round on his head, and heavy
guns began to play, and the king's men were beaten and put to
flight.
And now, said he, I will not make peace until the king gives
me his daughter to wife, and I govern the whole kingdom in his
name. He caused this to be announced to the king, and the latter
said to his daughter, necessity is a hard nut to crack. What
else is there for me to do but what he desires. If I want peace
and to keep the crown on my head, I must give you away.
So the wedding was celebrated, but the king's daughter was
vexed that her husband should be a common man, who wore a shabby
hat, and put on an old knapsack. She longed to get rid of him,
and night and day studied how she could accomplished this. Then
she thought to herself, is it possible that his wonderful powers
lie in the knapsack, and she feigned affection and caressed him,
and when his heart was softened, she said, if you would but lay
aside that horrid knapsack, it makes you look so ugly, that I
can't help being ashamed of you. Dear child, said he, this
knapsack is my greatest treasure, as long as I have it, there is
no power on earth that I am afraid of. And he revealed to her
the wonderful virtue with which it was endowed.
Then she threw herself in his arms as if she were going to
kiss him, but cleverly took the knapsack off his shoulders, and
ran away with it. As soon as she was alone she tapped it, and
commanded the warriors to seize their former master, and take
him out of the royal palace. They obeyed, and the false wife
sent still more men after him, who were to drive him quite out
of the country. Then he would have been ruined if he had not had
the little hat. And hardly were his hands free before he turned
it twice. Immediately the cannon began to thunder, and
demolished everything, and the king's daughter herself was
forced to come and beg for mercy. As she entreated in such
moving terms, and promised to better her ways, he allowed
himself to be persuaded and granted her peace.
She behaved in a friendly manner to him, and acted as if she
loved him very much, and after some time managed so to befool
him, that he confided to her that even if someone got the
knapsack into his power, he could do nothing against him so long
as the old hat was still his. When she knew the secret, she
waited until he was asleep, and then she took the hat away from
him, and had it thrown out into the street. But the horn still
remained to him, and in great anger he blew it with all his
strength.
Instantly all walls, fortifications, towns, and villages,
toppled down, and crushed the king and his daughter to death.
And had he not put down the horn and had blown just a little
longer, everything would have been in ruins, and not one stone
would have been left standing on another. Then no one opposed
him any longer, and he made himself king of the whole country.
|
The Golden Bird
In olden times there was a king, who had behind his palace a
beautiful pleasure-garden in which there was a tree that bore
golden apples. When the apples were getting ripe they were
counted, but on the very next morning one was missing. This was
told to the king, and he ordered that a watch should be kept
every night beneath the tree.
The king had three sons, the eldest of whom he sent, as soon
as night came on, into the garden, but when midnight came he
could not keep himself from sleeping, and next morning again an
apple was gone.
The following night the second son had to keep watch, but it
fared no better with him, as soon as twelve o'clock had struck
he fell asleep, and in the morning an apple was gone.
Now it came to the turn of the third son to watch, and he was
quite ready, but the king had not much trust in him, and thought
that he would be of less use even than his brothers, but at last
he let him go. The youth lay down beneath the tree, but kept
awake, and did not let sleep master him. When it struck twelve,
something rustled through the air, and in the moonlight he saw a
bird coming whose feathers were all shining with gold.
The bird alighted on the tree, and had just plucked off an
apple, when the youth shot an arrow at him. The bird flew off,
but the arrow had struck his plumage, and one of his golden
feathers fell down. The youth picked it up, and the next morning
took it to the king and told him what he had seen in the night.
The king called his council together, and everyone declared that
a feather like this was worth more than the whole kingdom. If
the feather is so precious, declared the king, one alone will
not do for me, I must and will have the whole bird.
The eldest son set out, and trusting to his cleverness
thought that he would easily find the golden bird. When he had
gone some distance he saw a fox sitting at the edge of a wood so
he cocked his gun and took aim at him. The fox cried, do not
shoot me, and in return I will give you some good counsel. You
are on the way to the golden bird, and this evening you will
come to a village in which stand two inns opposite to one
another.
One of them is lighted up brightly, and all goes on merrily
within, but do not go into it, go rather into the other, even
though it looks like a bad one. How can such a silly beast give
wise advice, thought the king's son, and he pulled the trigger.
But he missed the fox, who stretched out his tail and ran
quickly into the wood.
So he pursued his way, and by evening came to the village
where the two inns were, in one they were singing and dancing,
the other had a poor, miserable look. I should be a fool,
indeed, he thought, if I were to go into the shabby tavern, and
pass by the good one. So he went into the cheerful one, lived
there in riot and revel, and forgot the bird and his father, and
all good counsels.
When many months had passed, and the eldest son did not come
back home, the second set out, wishing to find the golden bird.
The fox met him as he had met the eldest, and gave him the good
advice of which he took no heed. He came to the two inns, and
his brother was standing at the window of the one from which
came the music, and called out to him. He could not resist, but
went inside and lived only for pleasure.
Again some time passed, and then the king's youngest son
wanted to set off and try his luck, but his father would not
allow it. It is of no use, said he, he will find the golden bird
still less than his brothers, and if a mishap were to befall him
he knows not how to help himself, he's not too bright at the
best. But at last, as he had no peace, he let him go.
Again the fox was sitting outside the wood, and begged for
his life, and offered his good advice. The youth was
good-natured, and said, be easy, little fox, I will do you no
harm. You shall not repent it, answered the fox, and that you
may get on more quickly, get up behind on my tail. And scarcely
had he seated himself when the fox began to run, and away he
went over stock and stone till his hair whistled in the wind.
When they came to the village the youth got off, he followed the
good advice, and without looking round turned into the little
inn, where he spent the night quietly.
The next morning, as soon as he got into the open country,
there sat the fox already, and said, I will tell you further
what you have to do. Go on quite straight, and at last you will
come to a castle, in front of which a whole regiment of soldiers
is lying, but do not trouble yourself about them, for they will
all be asleep and snoring. Go through the midst of them staight
into the castle, and go through all the rooms, till at last you
will come to a chamber where a golden bird is hanging in a
wooden cage. Close by, there stands an empty gold cage for show,
but beware of taking the bird out of the common cage and putting
it into the fine one, or it may go badly with you.
With these words the fox again stretched out his tail, and
the king's son seated himself upon it, and away he went over
stock and stone till his hair whistled in the wind.
When he came to the castle he found everything as the fox had
said. The king's son went into the chamber where the golden bird
was shut up in a wooden cage, whilst a golden one stood by, and
the three golden apples lay about the room. But, thought he, it
would be absurd if I were to leave the beautiful bird in the
common and ugly cage, so he opened the door, laid hold of it,
and put it into the golden cage. But at the same moment the bird
uttered a shrill cry. The soldiers awoke, rushed in, and took
him off to prison. The next morning he was taken before a court
of justice, and as he confessed everything, was sentenced to
death.
The king, however, said that he would grant him his life on
one condition - namely, if he brought him the golden horse which
ran faster than the wind, and in that case he should receive,
over and above, as a reward, the golden bird.
The king's son set off, but he sighed and was sorrowful, for
how was he to find the golden horse. But all at once he saw his
old friend the fox sitting on the road. Look you, said the fox,
this has happened because you did not give heed to me. However,
be of good courage. I will give you my help, and tell you how to
get to the golden horse. You must go straight on, and you will
come to a castle, where in the stable stands the horse. The
grooms will be lying in front of the stable, but they will be
asleep and snoring, and you can quietly lead out the golden
horse. But of one thing you must take heed, put on him the
common saddle of wood and leather, and not the golden one, which
hangs close by, else it will go ill with you. Then the fox
stretched out his tail, the king's son seated himself upon it,
and away he went over stock and stone until his hair whistled in
the wind.
Everything happened just as the fox had said, the prince came
to the stable in which the golden horse was standing, but just
as he was going to put the common saddle upon him, he thought,
such a beautiful beast will be shamed if I do not give him the
good saddle which belongs to him by right. But scarcely had the
golden saddle touched the horse than he began to neigh loudly.
The grooms awoke, seized the youth, and threw him into prison.
The next morning he was sentenced by the court to death, but
the king promised to grant him his life, and the golden horse as
well, if he could bring back the beautiful princess from the
golden castle.
With a heavy heart the youth set out, yet luckily for him he
soon found the trusty fox. I ought only to leave you to your
ill-luck, said the fox, but I pity you, and will help you once
more out of your trouble. This road takes you straight to the
golden castle, you will reach it by eventide, and at night when
everything is quiet the beautiful princess goes to the
bathing-house to bathe. When she enters it, run up to her and
give her a kiss, then she will follow you, and you can take her
away with you, only do not allow her to take leave of her
parents first, or it will go ill with you.
Then the fox stretched out his tail, the king's son seated
himself upon it, and away went the fox, over stock and stone,
till his hair whistled in the wind.
When he reached the golden castle it was just as the fox had
said. He waited until midnight, when everything lay in deep
sleep, and the beautiful princess was going to the
bathing-house. Then he sprang out and gave her a kiss. She said
that she would like to go with him, but she asked him pitifully,
and with tears, to allow her first to take leave of her parents.
At first he withstood her prayer, but when she wept more and
more, and fell at his feet, he at last gave in. But no sooner
had the maiden reached the bedside of her father than he and all
the rest in the castle awoke, and the youth was laid hold of and
put into prison.
The next morning the king said to him, your life is
forfeited, and you can only find mercy if you take away the hill
which stands in front of my windows, and prevents my seeing
beyond it, and you must finish it all within eight days. If you
do that you shall have my daughter as your reward.
The king's son began, and dug and shoveled without stopping,
but when after seven days he saw how little he had done, and how
all his work was as good as nothing, he fell into great sorrow
and gave up all hope. But on the evening of the seventh day the
fox appeared and said, you do not deserve that I should take my
trouble about you, but just go away and lie down to sleep, and I
will do the work for you.
The next morning when he awoke and looked out of the window
the hill had gone. The youth ran, full of joy, to the king, and
told him that the task was fulfilled, and whether he liked it or
not, the king had to hold to his word and give him his daughter.
So the two set forth together, and it was not long before the
trusty fox came up with them. You have certainly got what is
best, said he, but the golden horse also belongs to the maiden
of the golden castle. How shall I get it, asked the youth. That
I will tell you, answered the fox, first take the beautiful
maiden to the king who sent you to the golden castle. There will
be unheard-of rejoicing, they will gladly give you the golden
horse, and will bring it out to you. Mount it as soon as
possible, and offer your hand to all in farewell, last of all to
the beautiful maiden. And as soon as you have taken her hand
swing her up on to the horse, and gallop away, and no one will
be able to bring you back, for the horse runs faster than the
wind.
All was carried out successfully, and the king's son carried
off the beautiful princess on the golden horse.
The fox did not remain behind, and he said to the youth, now
I will help you to get the golden bird. When you come near to
the castle where the golden bird is to be found, let the maiden
get down, and I will take her into my care. Then ride with the
golden horse into the castle-yard, there will be great rejoicing
at the sight, and they will bring out the golden bird for you.
As soon as you have the cage in your hand gallop back to us, and
take the maiden away again.
When the plan had succeeded, and the king's son was about to
ride home with his treasures, the fox said, now you shall reward
me for my help. What do you require for it, asked the youth.
When you get into the wood yonder, shoot me dead, and chop off
my head and feet.
That would be fine gratitude, said the king's son. I cannot
possibly do that for you.
The fox said, if you will not do it I must leave you, but
before I go away I will give you a piece of good advice. Be
careful about two things. Buy no gallows'-flesh, and do not sit
at the edge of any well. And then he ran into the wood.
The youth thought, that is a wonderful beast, he has strange
whims, who on earth would want to buy gallows'-flesh. As for the
desire to sit at the edge of a well it has never yet occurred to
me.
He rode on with the beautiful maiden, and his road took him
again through the village in which his two brothers had
remained. There was a great stir and noise, and, when he asked
what was going on, he was told that two men were going to be
hanged. As he came nearer to the place he saw that they were his
brothers, who had been playing all kinds of wicked pranks, and
had squandered all their wealth. He inquired whether they could
not be set free. If you will pay for them, answered the people,
but why should you waste your money on wicked men, and buy them
free. He did not think twice about it, but paid for them, and
when they were set free they all went on their way together.
They came to the wood where the fox had first met them, and
as it was a hot day, but cool and pleasant within the wood, the
two brothers said, let us rest a little by the well, and eat and
drink. He agreed, and whilst they were talking he forgot
himself, and sat down upon the edge of the well without thinking
of any evil. But the two brothers threw him backwards into the
well, took the maiden, the horse, and the bird, and went home to
their father. Here we bring you not only the golden bird, said
they, we have won the golden horse also, and the maiden from the
golden castle. Then was there great joy, but the horse would not
eat, the bird would not sing, and the maiden sat and wept.
But the youngest brother was not dead. By good fortune the
well was dry, and he fell upon soft moss without being hurt, but
he could not get out again. Even in this strait the faithful fox
did not leave him, it came and leapt down to him, and upbraided
him for having forgotten its advice. But yet I cannot give up,
he said, I will help you up again into daylight. He bade him
grasp his tail and keep tight hold of it, and then he pulled him
up. You are not out of all danger yet, said the fox. Your
brothers were not sure of your death, and have surrounded the
wood with watchers, who are to kill you if you let yourself be
seen. But a poor man was sitting upon the road, with whom the
youth changed clothes, and in this way he got to the king's
palace.
No one knew him, but the bird began to sing, the horse began
to eat, and the beautiful maiden left off weeping. The king,
astonished, asked, what does this mean. Then the maiden said, I
do not know, but I have been so sorrowful and now I am so happy.
I feel as if my true bridegroom had come. She told him all that
had happened, although the other brothers had threatened her
with death if she were to betray anything.
The king commanded that all people who were in his castle
should be brought before him, and amongst them came the youth in
his ragged clothes, but the maiden knew him at once and fell
upon his neck. The wicked brothers were seized and put to death,
but he was married to the beautiful maiden and declared heir to
the king.
But what happened to the poor fox. Long afterwards the king's
son was once again walking in the wood, when the fox met him and
said, you have everything now that you can wish for, but there
is never an end to my misery, and yet it is in your power to
free me, and again he asked him with tears to shoot him dead and
chop off his head and feet. So he did it, and scarcely was it
done when the fox was changed into a man, and was no other than
the brother of the beautiful princess, who at last was freed
from the magic charm which had been laid upon him. And now they
had all the happiness they wanted as long as they lived.
|
The Two Brothers
There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and the
other poor. The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-hearted. The
poor one supported himself by making brooms, and was good and
honorable. He had two children, who were twin brothers and as
like each other as two drops of water. The two boys went in and
out of the rich house, and often got some of the scraps to eat.
It happened once when the poor man was going into the forest to
fetch brush-wood, that he saw a bird which was quite golden and
more beautiful than any he had ever chanced to meet with. He
picked up a small stone, threw it at it, and was lucky enough to
hit it, but one golden feather only fell down, and the bird flew
away. The man took the feather and carried it to his brother,
who looked at it and said, it is pure gold. And gave him a great
deal of money for it. Next day the man climbed into a
birch-tree, and was about to cut off a couple of branches when
the same bird flew out, and when the man searched he found a
nest, and an egg lay inside it, which was of gold. He took the
egg home with him, and carried it to his brother, who again
said, it is pure gold, and gave him what it was worth. At last
the goldsmith said, I should indeed like to have the bird
itself. The poor man went into the forest for the third time,
and again saw the golden bird sitting on the tree, so he took a
stone and brought it down and carried it to his brother, who
gave him a great heap of gold for it. Now I can get on, thought
he, and went contentedly home.
The goldsmith was crafty and cunning, and knew very well what
kind of a bird it was. He called his wife and said, roast me the
gold bird, and take care that none of it is lost. I have a fancy
to eat it all myself. The bird, however, was no common one, but
of so wondrous a kind that whosoever ate its heart and liver
found every morning a piece of gold beneath his pillow. The
woman prepared the bird, put it on the spit, and let it roast.
Now it happened that while it was on the fire, and the woman was
forced to go out of the kitchen on account of some other work,
the two children of the poor broom-maker ran in, stood by the
spit and turned it round once or twice. And as at that very
moment two little bits of the bird fell down into the pan, one
of the boys said, we will eat these two little bits. I am so
hungry, and no one will ever miss them. Then the two ate the
pieces, but the woman came into the kitchen and saw that they
were eating something and said, what have you been eating. Two
little morsels which fell out of the bird, answered they. That
must have been the heart and the liver, said the woman, quite
frightened, and in order that her husband might not miss them
and be angry, she quickly killed a young cock, took out his
heart and liver, and put them beside the golden bird. When it
was ready, she carried it to the goldsmith, who consumed it all
alone, and left none of it. Next morning, however, when he felt
beneath his pillow, and expected to bring out the piece of gold,
no more gold pieces were there than there had always been.
The two children did not know what a piece of good-fortune
had fallen to their lot. Next morning when they arose, something
fell rattling to the ground, and when they picked it up there
were two gold pieces. They took them to their father, who was
astonished and said, how can that have happened. When next
morning they again found two, and so on daily, he went to his
brother and told him the strange story. The goldsmith at once
knew how it had happened, and that the children had eaten the
heart and liver of the golden bird, and in order to revenge
himself, and because he was envious and hard-hearted, he said to
the father, your children are in league with the evil one, do
not take the gold, and do not suffer them to stay any longer in
your house, for he has them in his power, and may ruin you
likewise. The father feared the evil one, and painful as it was
to him, he nevertheless led the twins forth into the forest, and
with a sad heart left them there.
And now the two children ran about the forest, and sought the
way home again, but could not find it, and only lost themselves
more and more. At length they met with a huntsman, who asked, to
whom do you children belong. We are the poor broom-maker's boys,
they replied, and they told him that their father would not keep
them any longer in the house because a piece of gold lay every
morning under their pillows. Come, said the huntsman, that is
nothing so very bad, if at the same time you remain honest, and
are not idle. As the good man liked the children, and had none
of his own, he took them home with him and said, I will be your
father, and bring you up till you are big. They learnt
huntsmanship from him, and the piece of gold which each of them
found when he awoke, was kept for them by him in case they
should need it in the future.
When they were grown up, their foster-father one day took
them into the forest with him, and said, to-day shall you make
your trial shot, so that I may release you from your
apprenticeship, and make you huntsmen. They went with him to lie
in wait and stayed there a long time, but no game appeared. The
huntsman, however, looked above him and saw a covey of wild
geese flying in the form of a triangle, and said to one of them,
shoot me down one from each corner. He did it, and thus
accomplished his trial shot.
Soon after another covey came flying by in the form of the
figure two, and the huntsman bade the other also bring down one
from each corner, and his trial shot was likewise successful.
Now, said the foster-father, I pronounce you out of your
apprenticeship. You are skilled huntsmen. Thereupon the two
brothers went forth together into the forest, and took counsel
with each other and planned something. And in the evening when
they had sat down to supper, they said to their foster-father,
we will not touch food, or take one mouthful, until you have
granted us a request. Said he, what, then, is your request. They
replied, we have now finished learning, and we must prove
ourselves in the world, so allow us to go away and travel. Then
spoke the old man joyfully, you talk like brave huntsmen, that
which you desire has been my wish. Go forth, all will go well
with you. Thereupon they ate and drank joyously together.
When the appointed day came, their foster-father presented
each of them with a good gun and a dog, and let each of them
take as many of his saved-up gold pieces as he chose. Then he
accompanied them a part of the way, and when taking leave, he
gave them a bright knife, and said, if ever you separate, stick
this knife into a tree at the place where you part, and when one
of you returns, he will will be able to see how his absent
brother is faring, for the side of the knife which is turned in
the direction by which he went, will rust if he dies, but will
remain bright as long as he is alive. The two brothers went
still farther onwards, and came to a forest which was so large
that it was impossible for them to get out of it in one day. So
they passed the night in it, and ate what they had put in their
hunting-pouches, but they walked all the second day likewise,
and still did not get out. As they had nothing to eat, one of
them said, we must shoot something for ourselves or we shall
suffer from hunger, and loaded his gun, and looked about him.
And when an old hare came running up towards them, he laid his
gun on his shoulder, but the hare cried, dear huntsman, do but
let me live, two little ones to thee I'll give, and sprang
instantly into the thicket, and brought two young ones.
But the little creatures played so merrily, and were so
pretty, that the huntsmen could not find it in their hearts to
kill them. They therefore kept them with them, and the little
hares followed on foot. Soon after this, a fox crept past. They
were just going to shoot it, but the fox cried, dear hunstman,
do but let me live, two little ones to thee I'll give.
He, too, brought two little foxes, and the huntsmen did not
like to kill them either, but gave them to the hares for
company, and they followed behind. It was not long before a wolf
strode out of the thicket. The huntsmen made ready to shoot him,
but the wolf cried, dear huntsman, do but let me live, two
little ones to thee I'll give.
The huntsman put the two wolves beside the other animals, and
they followed behind them. Then a bear came who wanted to trot
about a little longer, and cried, dear huntsman, do but let me
live, two little ones to thee I'll give.
The two young bears were added to the others, and there were
already eight of them. Then who should come. A lion came, and
tossed his mane. But the huntsmen did not let themselves be
frightened and aimed at him likewise, but the lion also said,
dear huntsman, do but let me live, two little ones to thee I'll
give.
And he brought his little ones to them, and now the huntsmen
had two lions, two bears, two wolves, two foxes, and two hares,
who followed them and served them. In the meantime their hunger
was not appeased by this, and they said to the foxes, listen you
sneakers, provide us with something to eat. You are crafty and
cunning. They replied, not far from here lies a village, from
which we have already brought many a fowl. We will show you the
way there. So they went into the village, bought themselves
something to eat, had some food given to their beasts, and then
traveled onwards. The foxes knew their way very well about the
district and where the poultry-yards were, and were were able to
guide the huntsmen.
Now they traveled about for a while, but could find no
situation where they could remain together, so they said, there
is nothing else for it, we must part. They divided the animals,
so that each of them had a lion, a bear, a wolf, a fox, and a
hare, then they took leave of each other, promised to love each
other like brothers till their death, and stuck the knife which
their foster-father had given them, into a tree, after which one
went east and the other went west.
The younger, however, arrived with his beasts in a town which
was all hung with black crape. He went into an inn, and asked
the host if he could accommodate his animals. The innkeeper gave
him a stable, where there was a hole in the wall, and the hare
crept out and fetched himself the head of a cabbage, and the fox
fetched himself a hen, and when he had devoured it got the cock
as well, but the wolf, the bear, and the lion could not get out
because they were too big. Then the innkeeper let them be taken
to a place where a cow happened to be lying on the grass, that
they might eat till they were satisfied. And when the huntsman
had taken care of his animals, he asked the innkeeper why the
town was thus hung with black crape. Said the host, because our
king's only daughter is to die to-morrow. The huntsman inquired,
is she sick unto death. No, answered the host, she is vigorous
and healthy, nevertheless she must die. How is that, asked the
huntsman.
There is a high hill without the town, whereon dwells a
dragon who every year must have a pure virgin, or he lays the
whole country waste, and now all the maidens have already been
given to him, and there is no longer anyone left but the king's
daughter, yet there is no mercy for her. She must be given up to
him, and that is to be done to-morrow. Said the huntsman, why is
the dragon not killed. Ah, replied the host, so many knights
have tried it, but it has cost all of them their lives. The king
has promised that he who conquers the dragon shall have his
daughter to wife, and shall likewise govern the kingdom after
his own death.
The huntsman said nothing more to this, but next morning took
his animals, and with them ascended the dragon's hill. A little
church stood at the top of it, and on the altar three full cups
were standing, with the inscription. Whosoever empties the cups
will become the strongest man on earth, and will be able to
wield the sword which is buried before the threshold of the
door. The huntsman did not drink, but went out and sought for
the sword in the ground, but was unable to move it from its
place. Then he went in and emptied the cups, and now he was
strong enough to take up the sword, and his hand could quite
easily wield it. As the hour came when the maiden was to be
delivered over to the dragon, the king, the marshal, and
courtiers accompanied her. From afar she saw the huntsman on the
dragon's hill, and thought it was the dragon standing there
waiting for her, and did not want to go up to him, but at last,
because otherwise the whole town would have been destroyed, she
was forced to take the fatal journey. The king and courtiers
returned home full of grief. The king's marshal, however, was to
stand still, and see all from a distance.
When the king's daughter got to the top of the hill, it was
not the dragon which stood there, but the young huntsman, who
comforted her, and said he would save her, led her into the
church, and locked her in. It was not long before the
seven-headed dragon came thither with loud roaring. When he
perceived the huntsman, he was astonished and said, what
business have you here on the hill. The huntsman answered, I
want to fight with you. Said the dragon, many knights have left
their lives here, I shall soon have made an end of you too, and
he breathed fire out of seven jaws.
The fire was to have lighted the dry grass, and the huntsman
was to have been suffocated in the heat and smoke, but the
animals came running up and trampled out the fire. Then the
dragon rushed upon the huntsman, but he swung his sword until it
sang through the air, and struck off three of his heads. Then
the dragon grew really furious, and rose up in the air, and spat
out flames of fire over the huntsman, and was about to plunge
down on him, but the huntsman once more drew out his sword, and
again cut off three of his heads. The monster became faint and
sank down.
Nevertheless it was just able to rush upon the huntsman, when
he with his last strength smote its tail off, and as he could
fight no longer, called up his animals who tore it in pieces.
When the struggle was ended, the huntsman unlocked the church,
and found the king's daughter lying on the floor, as she had
lost her senses with anguish and terror during the contest. He
carried her out, and when she came to herself once more, and
opened her eyes, he showed her the dragon all cut to pieces, and
told her that she was now set free. She rejoiced and said, now
you will be my dearest husband, for my father has promised me to
him who kills the dragon. Thereupon she took off her necklace of
coral, and divided it amongst the animals in order to reward
them, and the lion received the golden clasp. Her
pocket-handkerchief, however, on which was her name, she gave to
the huntsman, who went and cut the tongues out of the dragons,
seven heads, wrapped them in the handkerchief, and preserved
them carefully.
That done, as he was so faint and weary with the fire and the
battle, he said to the maiden, we are both faint and weary, we
will sleep awhile. Then she said, yes, and they lay down on the
ground, and the huntsman said to the lion, you shall keep watch,
that no one surprises us in our sleep, and both fell asleep. The
lion lay down beside them to watch, but he also was so weary
with the fight, that he called to the bear and said, lie down
near me, I must sleep a little. If anything comes, waken me.
Then the bear lay down beside him, but he also was tired, and
called the wolf and said, lie down by me, I must sleep a little,
but if anything comes, waken me. Then the wolf lay down by him,
but he was tired likewise, and called the fox and said, lie down
by me, I must sleep a little, if anything comes waken me. Then
the fox lay down beside him, but he too was weary, and called
the hare and said, lie down near me, I must sleep a little, and
if anything should come, waken me. Then the hare sat down by
him, but the poor hare was tired too, and had no one whom he
could call there to keep watch, and fell asleep. And now the
king's daughter, the huntsman, the lion, the bear, the wolf, the
fox, and the hare, were all sleeping a sound sleep. The marshal,
however, who was to look on from a distance, took courage when
he did not see the dragon flying away with the maiden, and
finding that all the hill had become quiet, ascended it.
There lay the dragon hacked and hewn to pieces on the ground,
and not far from it were the king's daughter and a huntsman with
his animals, and all of them were sunk in a sound sleep. And as
he was wicked and godless he took his sword, cut off the
huntsman's head, and seized the maiden in his arms, and carried
her down the hill. Then she awoke and was terrified, but the
marshal said, you are in my hands, you shall say that it was I
who killed the dragon.
I cannot do that, she replied, for it was a huntsman with his
animals who did it. Then he drew his sword, and threatened to
kill her if she did not obey him, and so compelled her that she
promised it. Then he took her to the king, who did not know how
to contain himself for joy when he once more looked on his dear
child in life, whom he had believed to have been torn to pieces
by the monster. The marshal said to him, I have killed the
dragon, and delivered the maiden and the whole kingdom as well,
therefore I demand her as my wife, as was promised. The king
said to the maiden, is what he says true. Ah, yes, she answered,
it must indeed be true, but I will not consent to have the
wedding celebrated until after a year and a day, for she thought
in that time she should hear something of her dear huntsman.
The animals, however, were still lying sleeping beside their
dead master on the dragon's hill, and there came a great
bumble-bee and lighted on the hare's nose, but the hare wiped it
off with his paw, and went on sleeping. The bumble-bee came a
second time, but the hare again rubbed it off and slept on. Then
it came for the third time, and stung his nose so that he awoke.
As soon as the hare was awake, he roused the fox, and the fox,
the wolf, and the wolf the bear, and the bear the lion. And when
the lion awoke and saw that the maiden was gone, and his master
was dead, he began to roar frightfully and cried, who has done
that. Bear, why did you not waken me. The bear asked the wolf,
why did you not waken me. And the wolf the fox, why did you not
waken me. And the fox the hare, why did you not waken me. The
poor hare alone did not know what answer to make, and the blame
rested with him. Then they were just going to fall upon him, but
he entreated them and said, kill me not, I will bring our master
to life again. I know a mountain on which a root grows which,
when placed in the mouth of anyone, cures him of all illness and
every wound. But the mountain lies two hundred hours, journey
from here.
The lion said, in four-and-twenty hours must you have run
thither and have come back, and have brought the root with you.
Then the hare sprang away, and in four-and-twenty hours he was
back, and brought the root with him. The lion put the huntsman's
head on again, and the hare placed the root in his mouth, and
immediately everything united together again, and his heart
beat, and life came back. Then the huntsman awoke, and was
alarmed when he did not see the maiden, and thought, she must
have gone away whilst I was sleeping, in order to get rid of me.
The lion in his great haste had put his master's head on the
wrong way round, but the huntsman did not observe it because of
his melancholy thoughts about the king's daughter. But at noon,
when he was going to eat something, he saw that his head was
turned backwards and could not understand it, and asked the
animals what had happened to him in his sleep. Then the lion
told him that they, too, had all fallen asleep from weariness,
and on awaking, had found him dead with his head cut off, that
the hare had brought the life-giving root, and that he, in his
haste, had laid hold of the head the wrong way, but that he
would repair his mistake. Then he tore the huntsman's head off
again, turned it round, and the hare healed it with the root.
The huntsman, however, was sad at heart, and traveled about
the world, and made his animals dance before people. It came to
pass that precisely at the end of one year he came back to the
same town where he had rescued the king's daughter from the
dragon, and this time the town was gaily hung with red cloth.
Then he said to the host, what does this mean. Last year the
town was all hung with black crape, what means the red cloth
to-day. The host answered, last year our king's daughter was to
have been delivered over to the dragon, but the marshal fought
with it and killed it, and so to-morrow their wedding is to be
solemnized, and that is why the town was then hung with black
crape for mourning, and is to-day covered with red cloth for
joy.
Next day when the wedding was to take place, the huntsman
said at mid-day to the inn-keeper, do you believe, sir host,
that I while with you here to-day shall eat bread from the
king's own table.
Nay, said the host, I would bet a hundred pieces of gold that
that will not come true. The huntsman accepted the wager, and
set against it a purse with just the same number of gold pieces.
Then he called the hare and said, go, my dear runner, and fetch
me some of the bread which the king is eating. Now the little
hare was the lowest of the animals, and could not transfer this
order to any the others, but had to get on his legs himself.
Alas. Thought he, if I bound through the streets thus alone, the
butchers, dogs will all be after me. It happened as he expected,
and the dogs came after him and wanted to make holes in his good
skin. But he sprang away, you have never seen the like, and
sheltered himself in a sentry-box without the soldier being
aware of it. Then the dogs came and wanted to have him out, but
the soldier did not understand a jest, and struck them with the
butt-end of his gun, till they ran away yelling and howling. As
soon as the hare saw that the way was clear, he ran into the
palace and straight to the king's daughter, sat down under her
chair, and scratched at her foot. Then she said, will you get
away, and thought it was her dog. The hare scratched her foot
for the second time, and she again said, will you get away, and
thought it was her dog. But the hare did not let itself be
turned from its purpose, and scratched her for the third time.
Then she peeped down, and knew the hare by its collar.
She took him on her lap, carried him into her chamber, and
said, dear hare, what do you want. He answered, my master, who
killed the dragon, is here, and has sent me to ask for a loaf of
bread like that which the king eats. Then she was full of joy
and had the baker summoned, and ordered him to bring a loaf such
as was eaten by the king. The little hare said, but the baker
must likewise carry it thither for me, that the butchers, dogs
may do no harm to me. The baker carried if for him as far as the
door of the inn, and then the hare got on his hind legs, took
the loaf in his front paws, and carried it to his master. Then
said the huntsman, behold, sir host, the hundred pieces of gold
are mine. The host was astonished, but the huntsman went on to
say, yes, sir host, I have the bread, but now I will likewise
have some of the king's roast meat.
The host said, I should indeed like to see that, but he would
make no more wagers. The huntsman called the fox and said, my
little fox, go and fetch me some roast meat, such as the king
eats.
The red fox knew the byways better, and went by holes and
corners without any dog seeing him, seated himself under the
chair of the king's daughter, and scratched her foot. Then she
looked down and recognized the fox by its collar, took him into
her chamber with her and said, dear fox, what do you want. He
answered, my master, who killed the dragon, is here, and has
sent me. I am to ask for some roast meat such as the king is
eating. Then she made the cook come, who was obliged to prepare
a roast joint, the same as was eaten by the king, and to carry
it for the fox as far as the door. Then the fox took the dish,
waved away with his tail the flies which had settled on the
meat, and then carried it to his master. Behold, sir host, said
the huntsman, bread and meat are here but now I will also have
proper vegetables with it, such as are eaten by the king. Then
he called the wolf, and said, dear wolf, go thither and fetch me
vegetables such as the king eats.
Then the wolf went straight to the palace, as he feared no
one, and when he got to the king's daughter's parlor, he tugged
at the back of her dress, so that she was forced to look round.
She recognized him by his collar, and took him into her chamber
with her, and said, dear wolf, what do you want. He answered, my
master, who killed the dragon, is here, I am to ask for some
vegetables, such as the king eats. Then she made the cook come,
and he had to make ready a dish of vegetables, such as the king
ate, and had to carry it for the wolf as far as the door, and
then the wolf took the dish from him, and carried it to his
master. Behold, sir host, said the huntsman, now I have bread
and meat and vegetables, but I will also have some pastry to eat
like that which the king eats. He called the bear, and said,
dear bear, you are fond of licking anything sweet, go and bring
me some confectionery, such as the king eats.
The the bear trotted to the palace, and everyone got out of
his way, but when he went to the guard, they presented their
muskets, and would not let him go into the royal palace. But he
got up on his hind legs, and gave them a few boxes on the ears,
right and left, with his paws, so that the whole watch broke up,
and then he went straight to the king's daughter, placed himself
behind her, and growled a little. Then she looked behind her,
knew the bear, and bade him go into her room with her, and said,
dear bear, what do you want. He answered, my master, who killed
the dragon, is here, and I am to ask for some confectionery such
as the king eats. Then she summoned her confectioner, who had to
bake confectionery such as the king ate, and carry it to the
door for the bear. Then the bear first licked up the comfits
which had rolled down, and then he stood upright, took the dish,
and carried it to his master. Behold, sir host, said the
huntsman, now I have bread, meat, vegetables and confectionery,
but I will drink wine also, and such as the king drinks. He
called his lion to him and said, dear lion, you yourself like to
drink till you are tipsy, go and fetch me some wine, such as is
drunk by the king.
Then the lion strode through the streets, and the people fled
from him, and when he came to the watch, they wanted to bar the
way against him, but he did but roar once, and they all ran
away. Then the lion went to the royal apartment, and knocked at
the door with his tail. The the king's daughter came forth, and
was almost afraid of the lion, but she knew him by the golden
clasp of her necklace, and bade him go with her into her
chamber, and said, dear lion, what will you have. He answered,
my master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask for
some wine such as is drunk by the king. Then she bade the
cup-bearer be called, who was to give the lion some wine like
that which was drunk by the king. The lion said, I will go with
him, and see that I get the right wine. Then he went down with
the cup-bearer, and when they were below, the cup-bearer wanted
to draw him some of the common wine that was drunk by the king's
servants, but the lion said, stop, I will taste the wine first,
and he drew half a measure, and swallowed it down at one
draught. No, said he, that is not right. The cup-bearer looked
at him askance, but went on, and was about to give him some out
of another barrel which was for the king's marshal. The lion
said, stop, let me taste the wine first, and drew half a measure
and drank it. That is better, but still not right, said he. Then
the cup-bearer grew angry and said, how can a stupid animal like
you understand wine. But the lion gave him a blow behind the
ears, which made him fall down by no means gently, and when he
had got up again, he conducted the lion quite silently into a
little cellar apart, where the king's wine lay, from which no
one ever drank. The lion first drew half a measure and tried the
wine, and then he said, that may possibly be the right sort, and
bade the cup-bearer fill six bottles of it. And now they went
upstairs again, but when the lion came out of the cellar into
the open air, he reeled here and there, and was rather drunk,
and the cup-bearer was forced to carry the wine as far as the
door for him, and then the lion took the handle of the basket in
his mouth, and took it to his master. The huntsman said, behold,
sir host, here have I bread, meat, vegetables, confectionery and
wine such as the king has, and now I will dine with my animals,
and he sat down and ate and drank, and gave the hare, the fox,
the wolf, the bear, and the lion also to eat and to drink, and
was joyful, for he saw that the king's daughter still loved him.
And when he had finished his dinner, he said, sir host, now have
I eaten and drunk, as the king eats and drinks, and now I will
go to the king's court and marry the king's daughter.
Said the host, how can that be, when she already has a
betrothed husband, and when the wedding is to be solemnized
to-day. Then the huntsman drew forth the handerchief which the
king's daughter had given him on the dragon's hill, and in which
were folded the monster's seven tongues, and said, that which I
hold in my hand shall help me to do it. Then the innkeeper
looked at the handkerchief, and said, whatever I believe, I do
not believe that, and I am willing to stake my house and
courtyard on it. The huntsman, however, took a bag with a
thousand gold pieces, put it on the table, and said, I stake
that on it.
Now the king said to his daughter, at the royal table, what
did all the wild animals want, which have been coming to you,
and going in and out of my palace. She replied, I may not tell
you, but send and have the master of these animals brought, and
you will do well. The king sent a servant to the inn, and
invited the stranger, and the servant came just as the huntsman
had laid his wager with the innkeeper. Then said he, behold, sir
host, now the king sends his servant and invites me, but I do
not go in this way.
And he said to the servant, I request the lord king to send
me royal clothing, and a carriage with six horses, and servants
to attend me. When the king heard the answer, he said to his
daughter, what shall I do. She said, cause him to be fetched as
he desires to be, and you will do well. Then the king sent royal
apparel, a carriage with six horses, and servants to wait on
him. When the huntsman saw them coming, he said, behold, sir
host, now I am fetched as I desired to be, and he put on the
royal garments, took the handerchief with the dragon's tongues
with him, and drove off to the king. When the king saw him
coming, he said to his daughter, how shall I receive him. She
answered, go to meet him and you will do well. Then the king
went to meet him and led him in, and his animals followed. The
king gave him a seat near himself and his daughter, and the
marshal, as bridegroom, sat on the other side, but no longer
knew the huntsman. And now at this very moment, the seven heads
of the dragon were brought in as a spectacle, and the king said,
the seven heads were cut off the dragon by the marshal,
wherefore to-day I give him my daughter to wife. The the
huntsman stood up, opened the seven mouths, and said, where are
the seven tongues of the dragon. Then was the marshal terrified,
and grew pale and knew not what answer he should make, and at
length in his anguish he said, dragons have no tongues. The
huntsman said, liars ought to have none, but the dragon's
tongues are the tokens of the victor, and he unfolded the
handerchief, and there lay all seven inside it. And he put each
tongue in the mouth to which it belonged, and it fitted exactly.
Then he took the handkerchief on which the name of the
princess was embroidered, and showed it to the maiden, and asked
to whom she had given it, and she replied, to him who killed the
dragon. And then he called his animals, and took the collar off
each of them and the golden clasp from the lion, and showed them
to the maiden and asked to whom they belonged. She answered, the
necklace and golden clasp were mine, but I divided them among
the animals who helped to conquer the dragon. Then spoke the
huntsman, when I, tired of the fight, was resting and sleeping,
the marshal came and cut off my head. Then he carried away the
king's daughter, and gave out that it was he who had killed the
dragon, but that he lied I prove with the tongues, the
handkerchief, and the necklace.
And then he related how his animals had healed him by means
of a wonderful root, and how he had traveled about with them for
one year, and had at length come there and had learnt the
treachery of the marshal by the inn-keeper's story. Then the
king asked his daughter, is it true that this man killed the
dragon.
And she answered, yes, it is true. Now can I reveal the
wicked deed of the marshal, as it has come to light without my
connivance, for he wrung from me a promise to be silent. For
this reason, however, did I make the condition that the marriage
should not be solemnized for a year and a day. Then the king
bade twelve councillors be summoned who were to pronounce
judgment on the marshal, and they sentenced him to be torn to
pieces by four bulls.
The marshal was therefore executed, but the king gave his
daughter to the huntsman, and named him his viceroy over the
whole kingdom. The wedding was celebrated with great joy, and
the young king caused his father and his foster-father to be
brought, and loaded them with treasures. Neither did he forget
the inn-keeper, but sent for him and said, behold, sir host, I
have married the king's daughter, and your house and yard are
mine.
The host said, yes, according to justice it is so. But the
young king said, it shall be done according to mercy, and told
him that he should keep his house and yard, and gave him the
thousand pieces of gold as well.
And now the young king and queen were thoroughly happy, and
lived in gladness together. He often went out hunting because it
was a delight to him, and the faithful animals had to accompany
him. In the neighborhood, however, there was a forest of which
it was reported that it was haunted, and that whosoever did but
enter it did not easily get out again. But the young king had a
great inclination to hunt in it, and let the old king have no
peace until he allowed him to do so. So he rode forth with a
great following, and when he came to the forest, he saw a
snow-white hind, and said to his men, wait here until I return,
I want to hunt that beautiful creature, and he rode into the
forest after it, followed only by his animals. The attendants
halted and waited until evening, but he did not return, so they
rode home, and told the young queen that the young king had
followed a white hind into the enchanted forest, and had not
come back again. Then she was in the greatest concern about him.
He, however, had still continued to ride on and on after the
beautiful wild animal, and had never been able to overtake it,
when he thought he was near enough to aim, he instantly saw it
bound away into the far distance, and at length it vanished
altogether. And now he perceived that he had penetrated deep
into the forest, and blew his horn but he received no answer,
for his attendants could not hear it. And as night was falling,
he saw that he could not get home that day, so he dismounted
from his horse, lighted himself a fire near a tree, and resolved
to spend the night by it. While he was sitting by the fire, and
his animals also were lying down beside him, it seemed to him
that he heard a human voice. He looked round, but could
perceived nothing. Soon afterwards, he again heard a groan as if
from above, and then he looked up, and saw an old woman sitting
in the tree, who wailed unceasingly, oh, oh, oh, how cold I am.
Said he, come down, and warm yourself if you are cold. But she
said, no, your animals will bite me. He answered, they will do
you no harm, old mother, do come down. She, however, was a
witch, and said, I will throw down a wand from the tree, and if
you strike them on the back with it, they will do me no harm.
Then she threw him a small wand, and he struck them with it, and
instantly they lay still and were turned into stone. And when
the witch was safe from the animals, she leapt down and touched
him also with a wand, and changed him to stone. Thereupon she
laughed, and dragged him and the animals into a vault, where
many more such stones already lay.
As the young king did not come back at all, the queen's
anguish and care grew constantly greater. And it so happened
that at this very time the other brother who had turned to the
east when they separated, came into the kingdom. He had sought a
situation, and had found none, and had then traveled about here
and there, and had made his animals dance. Then it came into his
mind that he would just go and look at the knife that they had
thrust in the trunk of a tree at their parting, that he might
learn how his brother was. When he got there his brother's side
of the knife was half rusted, and half bright. Then he was
alarmed and thought, a great misfortune must have befallen my
brother, but perhaps I can still save him, for half the knife is
still bright. He and his animals traveled towards the west, and
when he entered the gate of the town, the guard came to meet
him, and asked if he was to announce him to his consort the
young queen, who had for a couple of days been in the greatest
sorrow about his staying away, and was afraid he had been killed
in the enchanted forest.
The sentries, indeed, thought no otherwise than that he was
the young king himself, for he looked so like him, and had wild
animals running behind him. Then he saw that they were speaking
of his brother, and thought, it will be better if I pass myself
off for him, and then I can rescue him more easily. So he
allowed himself to be escorted into the castle by the guard, and
was received with the greatest joy. The young queen indeed
thought that he was her husband, and asked him why he had stayed
away so long. He answered, I had lost myself in a forest, and
could not find my way out again any sooner. At night he was
taken to the royal bed, but he laid a two-edged sword between
him and the young queen, she did not know what that could mean,
but did not venture to ask.
He remained in the palace a couple of days, and in the
meantime inquired into everything which related to the enchanted
forest, and at last he said, I must hunt there once more. The
king and the young queen wanted to persuade him not to do it,
but he stood out against them, and went forth with a larger
following. When he had got into the forest, it fared with him as
with his brother, he saw a white hind and said to his men, stay
here, and wait until I return, I want to chase the lovely wild
beast, and then he rode into the forest and his animals ran
after him. But he could not overtake the hind, and got so deep
into the forest that he was forced to pass the night there. And
when he had lighted a fire, he heard someone wailing above him,
oh, oh, oh, how cold I am.
Then he looked up, and the self-same witch was sitting in the
tree. Said he, if you are cold, come down, little old mother,
and warm yourself. She answered, no, your animals will bite me.
But he said, they will not hurt you. Then she cried, I will
throw down a wand to you, and if you smite them with it they
will do me no harm. When the huntsman heard that, he had no
confidence in the old woman, and said, I will not strike my
animals. Come down, or I will fetch you. Then she cried, what do
you want. You shall not touch me. But he replied, if you do not
come, I will shoot you. Said she, shoot away, I do not fear your
bullets.
Then he aimed, and fired at her, but the witch was proof
against all leaden bullets, and laughed shrilly and cried, you
shall not hit me. The huntsman knew what to do, tore three
silver buttons off his coat, and loaded his gun with them, for
against them her arts were useless, and when he fired she fell
down at once with a scream. Then he set his foot on her and
said, old witch, if you do not instantly confess where my
brother is, I will seize you with both my hands and throw you
into the fire. She was in a great fright, begged for mercy and
said, he and his animals lie in a vault, turned to stone. Then
he compelled her to go thither with him, threatened her, and
said, old sea-cat, now you shall make my brother and all the
human beings lying here, alive again, or you shall go into the
fire. She took a wand and touched the stones, and then his
brother with his animals came to life again, and many others,
merchants, artisans, and shepherds, arose, thanked him for their
deliverance, and went to their homes. But when the twin brothers
saw each other again, they kissed each other and rejoiced with
all their hearts. Then they seized the witch, bound her and laid
her on the fire, and when she was burnt the forest opened of its
own accord, and was light and clear, and the king's palace could
be seen at about the distance of a three hours, walk.
Thereupon the two brothers went home together, and on the way
told each other their histories. And when the younger said that
he was ruler of the whole country in the king's stead, the other
observed, that I remarked very well, for when I came to the
town, and was taken for you, all royal honors were paid me, the
young queen looked on me as her husband, and I had to eat at her
side, and sleep in your bed. When the other heard that, he
became so jealous and angry that he drew his sword, and struck
off his brother's head. But when he saw him lying there dead,
and saw his red blood flowing, he repented most violently, my
brother delivered me, cried he, and I have killed him for it,
and he bewailed him aloud. Then his hare came and offered to go
and bring some of the root of life, and bounded away and brought
it while yet there was time, and the dead man was brought to
life again, and knew nothing about the wound.
After this they journeyed onwards, and the younger said, you
look like me, you have royal apparel on as I have, and the
animals follow you as they do me, we will go in by opposite
gates, and arrive at the same time from the two sides in the
aged king's presence. So they separated, and at the same time
came the watchmen from the one door and from the other, and
announced that the young king and the animals had returned from
the chase.
The king said, it is not possible, the gates lie quite a mile
apart. In the meantime, however, the two brothers entered the
courtyard of the palace from opposite sides, and both mounted
the steps. Then the king said to the daughter, say which is your
husband.
Each of them looks exactly like the other, I cannot tell.
Then she was in great distress, and could not tell, but at last
she remembered the necklace which she had given to the animals,
and she sought for and found her little golden clasp on the
lion, and she cried in her delight, he who is followed by this
lion is my true husband. Then the young king laughed and said,
yes, he is the right one, and they sat down together to table,
and ate and drank, and were merry. At night when the young king
went to bed, his wife said, why have you for these last nights
always laid a two-edged sword in our bed. I thought you had a
wish to kill me. Then he knew how true his brother had been.
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The Golden Goose
There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was
called Dummling, and was despised, mocked, and sneered at on
every occasion.
It happened that the eldest wanted to go into the forest to
hew wood, and before he went his mother gave him a beautiful
sweet cake and a bottle of wine in order that he might not
suffer from hunger or thirst.
When he entered the forest he met a little grey-haired old
man who bade him good-day, and said, do give me a piece of cake
out of your pocket, and let me have a draught of your wine, I am
so hungry and thirsty. But the clever son answered, if I give
you my cake and wine, I shall have none for myself, be off with
you, and he left the little man standing and went on.
But when he began to hew down a tree, it was not long before
he made a false stroke, and the axe cut him in the arm, so that
he had to go home and have it bound up. And this was the little
grey man's doing.
After this the second son went into the forest, and his
mother gave him, like the eldest, a cake and a bottle of wine.
The little old grey man met him likewise, and asked him for a
piece of cake and a drink of wine. But the second son, too, said
sensibly enough, what I give you will be taken away from myself,
be off, and he left the little man standing and went on. His
punishment, however, was not delayed, when he had made a few
blows at the tree he struck himself in the leg, so that he had
to be carried home.
Then Dummling said, father, do let me go and cut wood. The
father answered, your brothers have hurt themselves with it,
leave it alone, you do not understand anything about it. But
Dummling begged so long that at last he said, just go then, you
will get wiser by hurting yourself. His mother gave him a cake
made with water and baked in the cinders, and with it a bottle
of sour beer.
When he came to the forest the little old grey man met him
likewise, and greeting him, said, give me a piece of your cake
and a drink out of your bottle, I am so hungry and thirsty.
Dummling answered, I have only cinder-cake and sour beer, if
that pleases you, we will sit down and eat. So they sat down,
and when Dummling pulled out his cinder-cake, it was a fine
sweet cake, and the sour beer had become good wine. So they ate
and drank, and after that the little man said, since you have a
good heart, and are willing to divide what you have, I will give
you good luck. There stands an old tree, cut it down, and you
will find something at the roots. Then the little man took leave
of him.
Dummling went and cut down the tree, and when it fell there
was a goose sitting in the roots with feathers of pure gold. He
lifted her up, and taking her with him, went to an inn where he
thought he would stay the night. Now the host had three
daughters, who saw the goose and were curious to know what such
a wonderful bird might be, and would have liked to have one of
its golden feathers.
The eldest thought, I shall soon find an opportunity of
pulling out a feather, and as soon as Dummling had gone out she
seized the goose by the wing, but her finger and hand remained
sticking fast to it.
The second came soon afterwards, thinking only of how she
might get a feather for herself, but she had scarcely touched
her sister than she was held fast.
At last the third also came with the like intent, and the
others screamed out, keep away, for goodness, sake keep away.
But she did not understand why she was to keep away. The others
are there, she thought, I may as well be there too, and ran to
them, but as soon as she had touched her sister, she remained
sticking fast to her. So they had to spend the night with the
goose.
The next morning Dummling took the goose under his arm and
set out, without troubling himself about the three girls who
were hanging on to it. They were obliged to run after him
continually, now left, now right, wherever his legs took him.
In the middle of the fields the parson met them, and when he
saw the procession he said, for shame, you good-for-nothing
girls, why are you running across the fields after this young
man. Is that seemly? At the same time he seized the youngest by
the hand in order to pull her away, but as soon as he touched
her he likewise stuck fast, and was himself obliged to run
behind.
Before long the sexton came by and saw his master, the
parson, running behind three girls. He was astonished at this
and called out, hi, your reverence, whither away so quickly. Do
not forget that we have a christening to-day, and running after
him he took him by the sleeve, but was also held fast to it.
Whilst the five were trotting thus one behind the other, two
laborers came with their hoes from the fields, the parson called
out to them and begged that they would set him and the sexton
free. But they had scarcely touched the sexton when they were
held fast, and now there were seven of them running behind
Dummling and the goose.
Soon afterwards he came to a city, where a king ruled who had
a daughter who was so serious that no one could make her laugh.
So he had put forth a decree that whosoever should be able to
make her laugh should marry her. When Dummling heard this, he
went with his goose and all her train before the king's
daughter, and as soon as she saw the seven people running on and
on, one behind the other, she began to laugh quite loudly, and
as if she would never stop.
Thereupon Dummling asked to have her for his wife, but the
king did not like the son-in-law, and made all manner of excuses
and said he must first produce a man who could drink a cellarful
of wine.
Dummling thought of the little grey man, who could certainly
help him, so he went into the forest, and in the same place
where he had felled the tree, he saw a man sitting, who had a
very sorrowful face. Dummling asked him what he was taking to
heart so sorely, and he answered, I have such a great thirst and
cannot quench it, cold water I cannot stand, a barrel of wine I
have just emptied, but that to me is like a drop on a hot stone.
There, I can help you, said Dummling, just come with me and
you shall be satisfied.
He led him into the king's cellar, and the man bent over the
huge barrels, and drank and drank till his loins hurt, and
before the day was out he had emptied all the barrels. Then
Dummling asked once more for his bride, but the king was vexed
that such an ugly fellow, whom everyone called Dummling, should
take away his daughter, and he made a new condition, he must
first find a man who could eat a whole mountain of bread.
Dummling did not think long, but went straight into the forest,
where in the same place there sat a man who was tying up his
body with a strap, and making an awful face, and saying, I have
eaten a whole ovenful of rolls, but what good is that when one
has such a hunger as I. My stomach remains empty, and I must tie
myself up if I am not to die of hunger.
At this Dummling was glad, and said, get up and come with me,
you shall eat yourself full. He led him to the king's palace,
where all the flour in the whole kingdom was collected, and from
it he caused a huge mountain of bread to be baked. The man from
the forest stood before it, began to eat, and by the end of one
day the whole mountain had vanished. Then Dummling for the third
time asked for his bride, but the king again sought a way out,
and ordered a ship which could sail on land and on water. As
soon as you come sailing back in it, said he, you shall have my
daughter for wife.
Dummling went straight into the forest, and there sat the
little grey man to whom he had given his cake. When he heard
what Dummling wanted, he said, since you have given me to eat
and to drink, I will give you the ship, and I do all this
because you once were kind to me. Then he gave him the ship
which could sail on land and water, and when the king saw that,
he could no longer prevent him from having his daughter. The
wedding was celebrated, and after the king's death, Dummling
inherited his kingdom and lived for a long time contentedly with
his wife.
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