THERE was once upon a time a king who had a wife with golden hair, and she was so beautiful that you couldn't find anyone like her in the world. It happened that she fell ill, and when she felt that she must soon die she sent for the King and said: "If you want to marry after my death, make no one queen unless she is just as beautiful as I am and has just such golden hair as I have. Promise me this." After the King had promised her this she closed her eyes and died.
For a long time the King was not to be comforted, and he did not even think of taking a second wife. At last his councilors said: "The King must marry again, so that we may have a Queen." So messengers were sent far and wide to seek for a bride equal to the late Queen in beauty. But there was no one in the wide world, and if there had been she could not have had such golden hair. Then the messengers came home again, not having been able to find a queen.
Now, the King had a daughter who was just as beautiful as her dead mother and had just such golden hair. One day, when she had grown up, her father looked at her and saw that she was exactly like her mother, so he said to hiscouncilors: "I will marry my daughter to one of you and she shall be Queen, for she is exactly like her dead mother, and when I die her husband shall be King." But when the Princess heard of her father's decision she was not at all pleased and said to him: "Before I do your bidding I must have three dresses; one as golden as the sun, one as silver as the moon, and one as shining as the stars. Besides these, I want a cloak made of a thousand different kinds of skin. Every animal in your kingdom must give a bit of his skin to it." But she thought to herself: "This will be quite impossible, and I shall not have to marry some one I do not care for."
The King, however, was not to be turned from his purpose, and he commanded the most skilled maidens in his kingdom to weave the three dresses, one as golden as the sun, and one as silver as the moon, and one as shining as the stars; and he gave orders to all his huntsmen to catch one of every kind of beast in the kingdom and to get a bit of its skin to make the cloak of a thousand pieces of fur. At last, when all was ready, the King commanded the cloak to be brought to him, and he spread it out before the Princess and said: "To-morrow shall be your wedding day." When the Princess saw that there was no more hope of changing her father's resolution, she determined to flee away.
In the night, when everyone else was sleeping, she got up and took three things from her treasures, a gold ring, a little gold spinning wheel, and a gold reel. She put the sun, moon, and star dresses in a nut shell, drew on the cloak of many skins, and made her face and hands black with soot. Then she commended herself to God and went out and traveled the whole night till she came to a large forest. And as she was very much tired she sat down inside a hollow tree and fell asleep.
The sun rose and she still slept on and on, although it was nearly noon. Now, it happened that the King to whom this wood belonged was hunting in it. When his dogs came to the tree they sniffed and ran round and round it, barking.The King said to the huntsmen: "See what sort of a wild beast is in there." The huntsmen went in and then came back and said: "In the hollow tree there lies a wonderful animal that we don't know, and we have never seen one like it. Its skin is made of a thousand pieces of fur; but it is lying down asleep." The King said: "See if you can catch it alive, and then fasten it to the cart and we will take it with us."
When the huntsmen seized the maiden, she awoke and was frightened and cried out to them: "I am a poor child, forsaken by father and mother. Take pity on me and let me go with you." Then they said to her: "Many-furred Creature, you can work in the kitchen. Come with us and sweep the ashes together." So they put her in the cart and went back to the palace. There they showed her a tiny room under the stairs, where no daylight came, and said to her: "Many-furred Creature, you can live and sleep here." Then she was sent into the kitchen, where she carried wood and water, poked the fire, washed vegetables, plucked fowls, swept up the ashes, and did all the dirty work.
So the Many-furred Creature lived for a long time in great poverty. Ah, beautiful king's daughter, what is going to befall you now?
It happened once when a great feast was being held in the palace that she said to the cook: "Can I go upstairs for a little bit and look on? I will stand outside the doors." The cook replied: "Yes, you can go up, but in half an hour you must be back here to sweep up the ashes." Then she took her little oil lamp and went into her little room, drew off her fur cloak, and washed off the soot from her face and hands, so that her beauty shone forth, and it was as if one sunbeam after another were coming out of a black cloud. Then she opened the nut and took out the dress as golden as the sun. And when she had done this she went up to the feast, and everyone stepped out of her way, for nobody knew her, and they thought she must be a king's daughter. But the King came toward her and gave her his hand, and dancedwith her, thinking to himself, "My eyes have never beheld anyone so fair!" When the dance was ended she courtesied to him, and when the King looked around she had disappeared, no one knew whither. The guards who were standing before the palace were called and questioned, but no one had seen her.
She had run to her little room and had quickly taken off her dress, made her face and hands black, put on the fur cloak, and was once more the Many-furred Creature. When she came into the kitchen and was setting about her work of sweeping the ashes together the cook said to her: "Let that wait till to-morrow, and just cook the King's soup for me. I want to have a little peep at the company upstairs. But be sure that you do not let a hair fall into it, otherwise you will get nothing to eat in future!" So the cook went away, and the Many-furred Creature cooked the soup for the King. She made a bread soup as well as she possibly could, and when it was done she fetched her gold ring from her little room and laid it in the tureen in which the soup was to be served up.
When the dance was ended the King had his soup brought to him and ate it, and it was so good that he thought he had never tasted such soup in his life. But when he came to the bottom of the dish he saw a gold ring lying there, and he could not imagine how it got in. Then he commanded the cook to be brought before him. The cook was terrified when he heard the command and said to the Many-furred Creature: "You must have let a hair fall into the soup, and if you have you deserve a good beating!"
When he came before the King, the King asked who had cooked the soup. The cook answered: "I cooked it." But the King said: "That's not true, for it was quite different and much better soup than you have ever cooked." Then the cook said: "I must confess. I did not cook the soup; the Many-furred Creature did." "Let her be brought before me," said the King.
When the Many-furred Creature came the King asked herwho she was. "I am a poor child without father or mother." Then he asked her: "What do you do in my palace?" "I am of no use except to have boots thrown at my head." "How did you get the ring which was in the soup?" he asked. "I know nothing at all about the ring," she answered. So the King could find out nothing and was obliged to send her away.
After a time there was another feast, and the Many-furred Creature begged the cook again to let her go and look on. He answered: "Yes, but come back again in half an hour and cook the King the bread soup that he likes so much." So she ran away to her little room, washed herself quickly, took out of the nut the dress as silver as the moon and put it on. Then she went upstairs looking just like a king's daughter, and the King came toward her, delighted to see her again, and as the dance had just begun, they danced together. But when the dance was ended she disappeared again so quickly that the King could not see which way she went.
She ran to her little room and changed herself once more into the Many-furred Creature, and went into the kitchen to cook the bread soup. When the cook was upstairs she fetched the golden spinning wheel and put it in the dish, so that the soup was poured over it. It was brought to the King, who ate it and liked it as much as the last time. He had the cook sent to him, and again he had to confess that the Many-furred Creature had cooked the soup. Then the Many-furred Creature came before the King, but she said again that she was of no use except to have boots thrown at her head, and that she knew nothing at all of the golden spinning wheel.
When the King had a feast for the third time things did not turn out quite the same as they had before. The cook said: "You must be a witch, Many-furred Creature, for you always put something in the soup, so that it is much better and tastes nicer to the King than any that I cook." But because she begged hard he let her go up for the third time. Now she put on the dress as shining as the stars and stepped into the hall in it.
The King danced again with the beautiful maiden, and thought she had never looked so beautiful. And while he was dancing he put a gold ring on her finger without her seeing it, and he commanded that the dance should last longer than usual. When it was finished he wanted to keep her hands in his, but she broke from him and sprang so quickly away among the people that she vanished from his sight. She ran as fast as she could to her little room under the stairs, but because she had stayed too long beyond the half hour she could not stop to take off the beautiful dress, but only threw the fur cloak over it, and in her haste did not make herself quite black with the soot, one finger remaining white.
The Many-furred Creature now ran into the kitchen, cooked the King's bread soup, and when the cook had gone she laid the golden reel in the dish. When the King found the reel at the bottom, he had the Many-furred Creature brought to him, and then he saw the white finger and the ring which he had put on her hand in the dance. Then he took her hand and held her tightly, and as she was trying to get away she undid the fur cloak a little bit and the star dress shone out. The King seized the cloak and tore it off her. Her golden hair came down, and she stood there in her full splendor and could not hide herself away any more. And when the soot and ashes had been washed from her face she looked more beautiful than anyone in the world. But the King said: "You are my dear bride and we will never be separated from each other." So the wedding was celebrated and they lived happily ever after.
A POOR widow once lived in a little cottage with a garden in front of it, in which grew two rose trees, one bearing white roses and the other red. She had two children, who were just like the two rose trees; one wascalled Snow-white and the other Rose-red, and they were the sweetest and best children in the world, always diligent and always cheerful; but Snow-white was quieter and more gentle than Rose-red. Rose-red loved to run about the fields and meadows and to pick flowers and catch butterflies; but Snow-white sat at home with her mother and helped her in the household, or read aloud to her when there was no work to do. The two children loved each other so dearly that they always walked about, hand in hand, whenever they went out together, and when Snow-white said, "We will never desert each other," Rose-red answered, "No, not as long as we live"; and the mother added: "Whatever one gets she shall share with the other." They often roamed about in the woods gathering berries, and no beast offered to hurt them; on the contrary, they came up to them in the most confiding manner; the little hare would eat a cabbage leaf from their hands, the deer grazed beside them, the stag would bound past them merrily, and the birds remained on the branches and sang to them with all their might. No evil ever befell them; if they tarried late in the wood and night overtook them, they lay down together on the moss and slept till morning, and their mother knew they were quite safe and never felt anxious about them. Once, when they had slept the night in the wood and had been wakened by the morning sun, they perceived a beautiful child in a shining white robe sitting close to their resting place. The figure rose up, looked at them kindly, but said nothing and vanished into the wood. And when they looked round about them they became aware that they had slept quite close to a precipice, over which they would certainly have fallen had they gone on a few steps farther in the darkness. And when they told their mother of their adventure, she said what they had seen must have been the angel that guards good children.
Snow-white and Rose-red kept their mother's cottage so beautifully clean and neat that it was a pleasure to go into it. In summer Rose-red looked after the house, and every morning before her mother awoke she placed a bunch offlowers before the bed, and a rose from each tree. In winter Snow-white lit the fire and put on the kettle, which was made of brass, but so beautifully polished that it shone like gold. In the evening when the snowflakes fell, their mother said, "Snow-white, go and close the shutters"; and they drew round the fire, while the mother put on her spectacles and read aloud from a big book, and the two girls listened and sat and spun. Beside them on the ground lay a little lamb, and behind them perched a little white dove with its head tucked under its wings.
One evening as they sat thus cozily together some one knocked at the door as though he desired admittance. The mother said: "Rose-red, open the door quickly! it must be some traveler seeking shelter." Rose-red hastened to unbar the door, and thought she saw a poor man standing in the darkness outside; but it was no such thing, only a bear, who poked his thick black head through the door. Rose-red screamed aloud and sprang back in terror, the lamb began to bleat, the dove flapped its wings, and Snow-white ran and hid behind her mother's bed. But the bear began to speak, and said: "Don't be afraid; I won't hurt you. I am half frozen, and only wish to warm myself a little." "My poor bear," said the mother, "lie down by the fire, only take care you don't burn your fur." Then she called out: "Snow-white and Rose-red, come out; the bear will do you no harm; he is a good, honest creature." So they both came out of their hiding places, and gradually the lamb and dove drew near too, and they all forgot their fear. The bear asked the children to beat the snow a little out of his fur, and they fetched a brush and scrubbed him till he was dry. Then the beast stretched himself in front of the fire and growled quite happily and comfortably. The children soon grew quite at their ease with him and led their hapless guest a fearful life. They tugged his fur with their hands, put their small feet on his back, and rolled him about here and there, or took a hazel wand and beat him with it; and if he growled they only laughed. The bear submitted to everything with the best possible goodnature, only when they went too far he cried: "O children, spare my life!
"'Snow-white and Rose-red,Don't beat your lover dead.'"
When it was time to retire for the night and the others went to bed, the mother said to the bear: "You can lie there on the hearth, in Heaven's name; it will be shelter for you from the cold and wet." As soon as day dawned the children let him out, and he trotted over the snow into the wood. From this time on the bear came every evening at the same hour, and lay down by the hearth and let the children play what pranks they liked with him; and they grew so accustomed to him that the door was never shut till their black friend had made his appearance.
When spring came and all outside was green, the bear said one morning to Snow-white: "Now I must go away and not return again the whole summer." "Where are you going to, dear bear?" asked Snow-white. "I must go to the wood and protect my treasure from the wicked dwarfs. In winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they are obliged to remain underground, for they can't work their way through; but now, when the sun has thawed and warmed the ground, they break through and come up above to spy the land and steal what they can. What once falls into their hands and into their caves is not easily brought back to light." Snow-white was quite sad over their friend's departure, and when she unbarred the door for him the bear, stepping out, caught a piece of his fur in the door knocker, and Snow-white thought she caught sight of glittering gold beneath it, but she couldn't be certain of it; and the bear ran hastily away and soon disappeared behind the trees.
A short time after this the mother sent the children into the wood to collect fagots. They came in their wanderings upon a big tree which lay felled on the ground, and on the trunk among the long grass they noticed something jumping up and down, but what it was they couldn't distinguish.
When they approached nearer they perceived a dwarf with a wizened face and a beard a yard long. The end of the beard was jammed into a cleft of the tree, and the little man sprang about like a dog on a chain, and didn't seem to know what he was to do. He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and screamed out: "What are you standing there for? Can't you come and help me?" "What were you doing, little man?" asked Rose-red. "You stupid, inquisitive goose!" replied the dwarf; "I wanted to split the tree in order to get little chips of wood for our kitchen fire; those thick logs that serve to make fires for coarse, greedy people like yourselves quite burn up all the little food we need. I had successfully driven in the wedge and all was going well, but the horrid wood was so slippery that it suddenly sprang out, and the tree closed up so rapidly that I had no time to take my beautiful white beard out, so here I am stuck fast and I can't get away; and you silly, smooth-faced, milk-and-water girls just stand and laugh. Ugh, what wretches you are!"
The children did all in their power, but they couldn't get the beard out; it was wedged in far too firmly. "I will run and fetch somebody," said Rose-red. "Crazy blockheads!" snapped the dwarf; "what's the good of calling anyone else? You're already two too many for me. Does nothing better occur to you than that?" "Don't be so impatient," said Snow-white. "I'll see you get help." And taking her scissors out of her pocket she cut the end off his beard. As soon as the dwarf felt himself free he seized a bagful of gold which was hidden among the roots of the tree, lifted it up, and muttered aloud: "Curse these rude wretches, cutting off a piece of my splendid beard!" With these words he swung the bag over his back and disappeared without as much as looking at the children again.
Shortly after this Snow-white and Rose-red went out to get a dish of fish. As they approached the stream they saw something which looked like an enormous grasshopper springing toward the water as if it were going to jump in. They ran forward and recognized their old friend, the dwarf."Where are you going to?" asked Rose-red. "You're surely not going to jump into the water?" "I'm not such a fool," screamed the dwarf. "Don't you see that horrid fish is trying to drag me in?" The little man had been sitting on the bank fishing, when unfortunately the wind had entangled his beard in the line; and when immediately afterwards a big fish bit, the feeble little creature had no strength to pull it out. The fish had the upper fin and dragged the dwarf toward him. He clung on with all his might to every rush and blade of grass, but it didn't help him much. He had to follow every movement of the fish and was in great danger of being drawn into the water. The girls came up just at the right moment, held him firm, and did all they could to disentangle his beard from the line; but in vain—beard and line were in a hopeless muddle. Nothing remained but to produce the scissors and cut the beard, by which a small part of it was sacrificed.
When the dwarf perceived what they were about, he yelled to them: "Do you call that manners, you toadstools! to disfigure a fellow's face? It wasn't enough that you shortened my beard before, but you must now needs cut off the best of it. I can't appear like this before my own people. I wish you'd been at Jericho first." Then he fetched a sack of pearls that lay among the rushes, and without saying another word he dragged it away and disappeared behind a stone.
two girls looking at angry dwarf"'WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE GAPING FOR?' SCREAMED THE DWARF"
It happened that soon after this the mother sent the two girls to the town to buy needles, thread, laces, and ribbons. Their road led over a heath where huge bowlders of rock lay scattered here and there. While trudging along they saw a big bird hovering in the air, circling slowly above them, but always descending lower, till at last it settled on a rock not far from them. Immediately afterwards they heard a sharp, piercing cry. They ran forward and saw with horror that the eagle had pounced on their old friend the dwarf and was about to carry him off. The tender-hearted children seized hold of the little man, and struggled so long with the bird that at last he let go his prey. When the dwarf had recovered from the first shock he screamed in his squeakingvoice: "Couldn't you have treated me more carefully? You have torn my thin little coat all to shreds, useless, awkward hussies that you are!" Then he took a bag of precious stones and vanished under the rocks into his cave. The girls were accustomed to his ingratitude, and went on their way and did their business in town. On their way home, as they were again passing the heath, they surprised the dwarf pouring out his precious stones on an open space, for he had thought no one would pass by at so late an hour. The evening sun shone on the glittering stones, and they glanced and gleamed so beautifully that the children stood still and gazed on them. "What are you standing there gaping for?" screamed the dwarf, and his ashen-gray face became scarlet with rage. He was about to go off with these angry words, when a sudden growl was heard and a black bear trotted out of the wood. The dwarf jumped up in a great fright, but he hadn't time to reach his place of retreat, for the bear was already close to him. Then he cried in terror: "Dear Mr. Bear, spare me! I'll give you all my treasure. Look at these beautiful precious stones lying there. Spare my life! What pleasure would you get from a poor, feeble little fellow like me? You won't feel me between your teeth. There, lay hold of these two wicked girls—they will be a tender morsel for you, as fat as young quails; eat them up, for Heaven's sake." But the bear, paying no attention to his words, gave the evil little creature one blow with his paw and he never moved again.
The girls had run away, but the bear called after them: "Snow-white and Rose-red, don't be afraid. Wait, and I'll come with you." Then they recognized his voice and stood still, and when the bear was quite close to them his skin suddenly fell off, and a beautiful man stood beside them, all dressed in gold. "I am a king's son," he said, "and have been doomed by that unholy little dwarf, who had stolen my treasure, to roam about the woods as a wild bear till his death should set me free. Now he has received his well-merited punishment."
Snow-white married him and Rose-red his brother, and they divided the great treasure the dwarf had collected in his cavebetween them. The old mother lived for many years peacefully with her children; and she carried the two rose trees with her, and they stood in front of her window, and every year they bore the finest red and white roses.
IN times of yore, when wishes were both heard and granted, lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so lovely that the sun himself, who has seen so much, wondered at her beauty every time he looked in her face. Now, near the King's castle was a large dark forest; and in the forest, under an old linden tree, was a deep well. When the day was very hot, the King's daughter used to go to the wood and seat herself at the edge of the cool well; and when she became wearied she would take a golden ball, throw it up in the air, and catch it again. This was her favorite amusement. Once it happened that her golden ball, instead of falling back into the little hand that she stretched out for it, dropped on the ground and immediately rolled away into the water. The King's daughter followed it with her eyes, but the ball had vanished and the well was so deep that no one could see down to the bottom. Then she began to weep, wept louder and louder every minute, and could not console herself at all.
While she was thus lamenting, some one called to her: "What is the matter with you, King's daughter? You weep so bitterly that you would touch the heart of a stone."
She looked around to see whence the voice came, and saw a frog stretching his thick, ugly head out of the water.
"Ah, it is you, old water paddler!" said she. "I am crying for my golden ball, which has fallen into the well."
"Be content," answered the Frog, "I dare say I can give you some good advice; but what will you give me if I bring back your plaything to you?"
"Whatever you like, dear Frog," said she, "my clothes, my pearls, and jewels, even the golden crown I wear."
The Frog answered: "Your clothes, your pearls, and jewels, even your golden crown I do not care for; but if you will love me, and let me be your companion and playfellow; sit near you at your little table, eat from your little golden plate, drink from your little cup, and sleep in your little bed—if you will promise me this, then I will bring you back your golden ball from the bottom of the well."
"Oh, yes!" said she; "I promise you everything, if you will only bring me back my golden ball."
She thought to herself meanwhile: "What nonsense the silly Frog talks! He sits in the water with the other frogs and croaks, and cannot be anybody's playfellow."
But the Frog, as soon as he had received the promise, dipped his head under the water and sank down. In a little while up he came again with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The King's daughter was overjoyed when she beheld her pretty plaything and picked it up and ran away with it.
"Wait! wait!" cried the Frog; "take me with you. I cannot run as fast as you."
Alas! of what use was it that he croaked after her as loud as he could. She would not listen to him, but hastened home, and soon forgot the poor Frog, who was obliged to plunge again to the bottom of his well.
The next day, when she was sitting at dinner with the King and all the courtiers, eating from her little golden plate, there came a sound of something creeping up the marble staircase—splish, splash; and when it had reached the top, it knocked at the door and cried: "Youngest King's daughter, open to me."
She ran, wishing to see who was outside; but when she opened the door, and there sat the Frog, she flung it hastily to again, and sat down at table, feeling very, very uncomfortable. The King saw that her heart was beating violently, and said: "Well, my child, why are you afraid? Is a giant standing outside the door to carry you off?"
"Oh, no!" answered she, "it is no giant, but a nasty frog, who yesterday, when I was playing in the wood near the well, fetched my golden ball out of the water. For this I promised him he should be my companion, but I never thought he could come out of his well. Now he is at the door, and wants to come in."
Again, the second time there was a knock, and a voice cried:
"Youngest King's daughter,Open to me;Know you what yesterdayYou promised meBy the cool water?Youngest King's daughter,Open to me."
Then said the King: "What you promised you must perform. Go and open the door." She went and opened the door; the Frog hopped in, always following and following her till he came up to her chair. There he sat and cried out: "Lift me up to you on the table." She refused, till the King, her father commanded her to do it. When the Frog was on the table he said: "Now push your little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat together." She did as he desired, but one could easily see that she did it unwillingly. The Frog seemed to enjoy his dinner very much, but every morsel she ate stuck in the throat of the poor little Princess.
Then said the Frog: "I have eaten enough, and am tired; carry me to your little room, and make your little silken bed smooth, and we will lay ourselves down to sleep together."
At this the daughter of the King began to weep, for she was afraid of the cold frog, who wanted to sleep in her pretty clean bed.
But the King looked angrily at her, and said again: "What you have promised you must perform. The Frog is your companion."
It was no use to complain; whether she liked it or not, she was obliged to take the Frog with her up to her little bed.So she picked him up with two fingers, hating him bitterly the while, and carried him upstairs. But when she got into bed, instead of lifting him up to her, she threw him with all her strength against the wall, saying: "Now, you nasty Frog, there will be an end of you!"
But what fell down from the wall was not a dead frog, but a living young prince, with beautiful and loving eyes, who at once became, by her own promise and her father's will, her dear companion and husband. He told her how he had been cursed by a wicked sorceress, and that no one but the King's youngest daughter could release him from his enchantment and take him out of the well.
The next day a carriage drove up to the palace gates with eight white horses, having white feathers on their heads and golden reins. Behind it stood the servant of the young Prince, called the Faithful Henry. This Faithful Henry had been so grieved when his master was changed into a frog, that he had been compelled to have three iron bands fastened around his heart, lest it should break. Now the carriage came to convey the Prince to his kingdom, so the Faithful Henry lifted in the bride and bridegroom, and mounted behind, full of joy at his lord's release. But when they had gone a short distance, the Prince heard behind him a noise as if something was breaking. He turned around and cried out: "Henry, the carriage is breaking!"
But Henry replied: "No, sir, it is not the carriage, but one of the bands from my heart with which I was forced to bind it up, or it would have broken with grief while you sat as a frog at the bottom of the well."
Twice again this happened, and the Prince always thought the carriage was breaking; but it was only the bands breaking off from the heart of the Faithful Henry, out of joy that his lord the Frog Prince was a frog no more.
THE King of a great land died, and left his Queen to take care of their only child. This child was a daughter who was very beautiful, and her mother loved her dearly and was very kind to her. And there was a good fairy, too, who was fond of the Princess, and helped her mother to watch over her. When she grew up she was betrothed to a prince who lived a great way off; and as the time drew near for her to be married she made ready to set off on her journey to his country. Then the Queen, her mother, packed up a great many costly things; jewels and gold and silver; trinkets, fine dresses, and in short, everything that became a royal bride. And she gave her a waiting maid to ride with her, and give her into the bridegroom's hands; and each had a horse for the journey. Now the Princess's horse was the fairy's gift, and it was called Falada, and could speak.
When the time came for them to set out the fairy went into her bedchamber, and took a little knife and cut off a lock of her hair and gave it to the Princess, and said: "Take care of it, dear child; for it is a charm that may be of use to you on the road." Then they all took a sorrowful leave of the Princess; and she put the lock of hair into her bosom, got upon her horse, and set off on her journey to her bridegroom's kingdom.
One day, as they were riding along by a brook, the Princess began to feel very thirsty, and she said to her maid: "Pray get down and fetch me some water in my golden cup out of yonder brook, for I want to drink." "Nay," said the maid, "if you are thirsty, get off yourself and stoop down by the water and drink; I shall not be your waiting maid any longer." Then she was so thirsty that she got down and knelt over the little brook and drank, for she was frightened, and dared not bring out her golden cup; and she wept and said:
"Alas! what will become of me?" And the lock of hair answered her, and said:
"Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,Sadly, sadly would she rue it."
But the Princess was very gentle and meek, so she said nothing to her maid's ill behavior, but got upon her horse again.
Then all rode farther on their journey till the day grew so warm, and the sun so scorching that the bride began to feel very thirsty again; and at last, when they came to a river, she forgot her maid's rude speech, and said: "Pray get down and fetch me some water to drink in my golden cup." But the maid answered her, and spoke even more haughtily than before: "Drink if you will, but I shall not be your waiting maid." Then the Princess was so thirsty that she got off her horse and lay down, and held her head over the running stream and cried and said: "What will become of me?" And the lock of hair answered her again:
"Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,Sadly, sadly would she rue it."
And as she leaned down to drink, the lock of hair fell from her bosom and floated away with the water. Now she was so frightened that she did not see it; but her maid saw it and was very glad, for she knew the charm; and she saw that the poor bride would be in her power, now that she had lost the hair. So when the bride had done drinking, and would have got upon Falada again, the maid said: "I shall ride upon Falada, and you may have my horse instead." So she was forced to give up her horse, and soon afterwards to take off her royal clothes and put on her maid's shabby ones.
At last, as they drew near the end of their journey, this treacherous servant threatened to kill her mistress if she ever told anyone what had happened. But Falada saw it all and marked it well.
Then the waiting maid got upon Falada, and the real briderode upon the other horse, and they went on in this way till at last they came to the royal court. There was great joy at their coming, and the Prince flew to meet them, and lifted the maid from her horse, thinking she was the one who was to be his wife; and she was led upstairs to the royal chamber; but the true Princess was told to stay in the court below.
Now the old King happened just then to have nothing else to do, so he amused himself by sitting at his kitchen window, looking at what was going on, and he saw her in the courtyard. As she looked very pretty, and too delicate for a waiting maid, he went up into the royal chamber to ask the bride who it was she had brought with her, that was thus left standing in the court below. "I brought her with me for the sake of her company on the road," said she; "pray give the girl some work to do, that she may not be idle." The old King could not for some time think of any work for her to do, but at last he said: "I have a lad who takes care of my geese, she may go and help him." Now the name of this lad that the real bride was to help in watching the King's geese was Curdken.
But the false bride said to the Prince: "Dear husband, pray do me one act of kindness." "That I will," said the Prince. "Then tell one of your slaughterers to cut off the head of the horse I rode upon, for it was very unruly, and plagued me sadly on the road"; but the truth was, she was very much afraid lest Falada should some day or other speak and tell all she had done to the Princess. She carried her point, and the faithful Falada was killed; but when the true Princess heard of it she wept, and begged the man to nail up Falada's head against a large dark gate of the city, through which she had to pass every morning and evening, that there she might still see him sometimes. Then the slaughterer said he would do as she wished; and cut off the head, and nailed it up under the dark gate.
Early the next morning, as she and Curdken went out through the gate, she cried sorrowfully:
woman at door"FALADA, FALADA, THERE THOU HANGEST!""BRIDE, BRIDE, THERE THOU GANGEST!"
"Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!"
and the head answered:
"Bride, bride, there thou gangest!Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,Sadly, sadly would she rue it."
Then they went out of the city and drove the geese on. And when she came to the meadow she sat down upon a bank there, and let down her waving locks of hair, which were all of pure silver; and when Curdken saw it glitter in the sun he ran up, and would have pulled some of the locks out, but she cried:
"Blow, breezes, blow!Let Curdken's hat go!Blow, breezes, blow!Let him after it go!O'er hills, dales, and rocks,Away be it whirl'd,Till the silvery locksAre all comb'd and curl'd!"
Then there came a wind so strong that it blew off Curdken's hat, and away it flew over the hills, and he was forced to turn and run after it, till, by the time he came back, she had done combing and curling her hair, and had put it up safe again. Then he was very angry and sulky, and would not speak to her at all; but they watched the geese until it grew dark in the evening, and then drove them homeward.
The next morning, as they were going through the dark gate, the poor girl looked up at Falada's head, and cried:
"Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!"
and it answered:
"Bride, bride, there thou gangest!Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,Sadly, sadly would she rue it."
Then she drove on the geese, and sat down again in the meadow, and began to comb out her hair as before; and Curdken ran up to her, and wanted to take hold of it, but she cried out quickly:
"Blow, breezes, blow!Let Curdken's hat go!Blow, breezes, blow!Let him after it go!O'er hills, dales, and rocks,Away be it whirl'd,Till the silvery locksAre all comb'd and curl'd!"
Then a wind came and blew away his hat; and off it flew a great way, over the hills and far away, so that he had to run after it; and when he came back she had bound up her hair again, and all was safe. So they watched the geese till it grew dark.
In the evening, after they came home, Curdken went to the old King, and said: "I cannot have that strange girl to help me to keep the geese any longer." "Why?" said the King. "Because, instead of doing any good, she does nothing but tease me all day long." Then the King made him tell what had happened. And Curdken said: "When we go in the morning through the dark gate with our flock of geese, she cries and talks with the head of a horse that hangs upon the wall, and says:
"Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!"
and the head answers:
"Bride, bride, there thou gangest!Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it,Sadly, sadly would she rue it."
And Curdken went on telling the King what had happened upon the meadow where the geese fed; how his hat was blown away, and how he was forced to run after it, and to leave hisflock of geese to themselves. But the old King told the boy to go out again the next day. And when morning came, he placed himself behind the dark gate, and heard how she spoke to Falada, and how Falada answered. Then he went into the field, and hid himself in a bush by the meadow's side; and he soon saw with his own eyes how they drove the flock of geese; and how, after a little time, she let down her hair that glittered in the sun. And then he heard her say:
"Blow, breezes, blow!Let Curdken's hat go!Blow, breezes, blow!Let him after it go!O'er hills, dales, and rocks,Away be it whirl'd,Till the silvery locksAre all comb'd and curl'd!"
And soon came a gale of wind and carried away Curdken's hat, and away went Curdken after it, while the girl went on combing and curling her hair. All this the old King saw. So he went home without being seen, and when the little goose girl came back in the evening he called her aside, and asked her why she did this; but she burst into tears, and said: "That I must not tell you or any man, or I shall lose my life."
But the old King begged so hard that she had no peace till she had told him all the tale, from beginning to end, word for word. And it was very lucky for her that she did so, for when she had done, the King ordered royal clothes to be put upon her, and gazed on her with wonder, she was so beautiful. Then he called his son, and told him that he had only the false bride; for that she was merely a waiting maid while the true bride stood by. And the young King rejoiced when he saw her beauty, and heard how meek and patient she had been; and without saying anything to the false bride, the King ordered a great feast to be made ready for all his court. The bridegroom sat at the head, with the false Princess on one side, and the true one on the other; but nobody knew her again, for her beauty was quite dazzling to their eyes, andshe did not seem at all like the little goose girl, now that she had her brilliant dress on.
When they had eaten and drunk, and were very merry, the old King said he would tell them a tale. So he began, and told all the story of the Princess, as if it was one that he had once heard; and he asked the true waiting maid what she thought ought to be done to anyone who would behave thus. "Nothing better," said this false bride, "than that she should be banished to the depths of the dark woods and live there forever." "Thou art she!" said the old King; "and as thou hast judged thyself, so shall it be done to thee." And the young King was then married to his true wife, and they reigned over the kingdom in peace and happiness all their lives; and the good fairy came to see them, and restored the faithful Falada to life again.