The Grimm Reader

by Maria Tatar

  For a long time the king was inconsolable, and he never even gave a thought to taking another wife. At length, however, his councilors said: “Things cannot continue like this. The king has to remarry so that we will have a queen.” Messengers were sent far and wide to search for a bride whose beauty would be equal to that of the dead queen. But there was no one like her in the whole wide world, and even if they had succeeded in finding such a woman, she would not have had golden hair like the queen’s. And so they failed to accomplish their mission and returned home.

  The king had a daughter who was as beautiful as her dead mother and who had golden hair like hers. She was now grown up, and this king turned to her one day and realized that she looked exactly like his wife. He was seized with a passionate love for her. He told his councilors: “I have decided to marry my daughter, for she is the living image of my dead wife, and I shall never find another bride like her.

  When the councilors heard these words, they were aghast and said: “God has forbidden a man to marry his daughter. Nothing good can come from sin, and the kingdom will be dragged down to perdition with you.”

  The daughter was horrified when she heard about her father’s plans, but she was sure that she could change his mind. She said to him: “Before I fulfill your wish, I will have to have three dresses: one as golden as the sun, a second as silvery as the moon, and a third as bright as the stars. In addition, I will need a cloak made of thousands of kinds of pelts and furs, with a snippet taken from every animal in your kingdom.”

  “He can’t possibly get me all those things,” she thought, “and trying will distract him from his wicked intentions.”

  But the king was not at all discouraged, and he ordered the most skilled maidens in his realm to weave three dresses, one as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and a third as bright as the stars. His huntsmen had to capture all the animals in the kingdom and take a snippet of fur from each one. From those pieces, a cloak was made of thousands of pieces of fur. When everything was ready, the king brought out the cloak, spread it in front of her, and said: “Tomorrow our wedding will be celebrated.”

  When the princess realized that there was no chance that her father would have a change of heart, she made up her mind to flee. That night, while everyone was sleeping, she got up and took out three of her most precious possessions: a golden ring, a little golden spinning wheel, and a golden bobbin. She put the three dresses—the dresses of the sun, moon, and stars—into a nutshell and put on the cloak of a thousand furs. She used soot to blacken her hands and face. Then she commended herself to God and slipped out the door. She walked all night long until she reached a large forest. By that time she was so tired that she just crawled into a hollow tree and fell asleep.

  When the sun rose, she was still fast asleep and continued sleeping until broad daylight. It just so happened that the king to whom the forest belonged was out hunting that day. When his dogs got to the tree, they started sniffing it and barked loudly as they ran around it. The king said to his huntsmen: “Why don’t you take a look and see what kind of animal is hiding in there.” The huntsmen did his bidding, and when they returned they said: “We’ve never seen anything like the really strange animal that’s lying in the hollow of the tree. Its coat is made up of thousands of different furs, and it’s curled up, fast asleep.”

  “Try to capture it alive and then tie it to the carriage and we’ll take it back with us,” the king said.

  When the huntsmen grabbed hold of the girl, she woke up in a fright and cried out: “I’m just a poor girl who’s been abandoned by her father and mother. Have pity on me and take me with you.”

  “Furrypelts,” they said, “you’ll be good for work in the kitchen. Come with us, and we’ll give you a job sweeping the ashes.” And so they put her in the carriage and drove back to the royal castle. There they settled her in a little den under the stairs, where daylight never reached, and they told her: “This will be your living room and bedroom.” Then they sent her to the kitchen where she was made to do all the dirty work, carrying water and wood for the fire, keeping the fires going, plucking the chickens, cleaning vegetables, and sweeping the ashes.

  For a long time Furrypelts led a wretched life. Ah, fairest princess! What will become of you!

  One day a ball was held at the castle, and Furrypelts asked the cook: “May I go up for a while to watch? I’ll stay behind the door.”

  “Just go ahead, but remember that you have to be back here in a half hour to clean up the ashes,” the cook said.

  And so Furrypelts took her little oil lamp, went over to her den, took off her cloak of furs, and washed the soot off her hands and face, revealing her full beauty to the world. Then she opened up the nutshell and took out the dress that shone like the sun. And she went up to the ball. Everyone there stepped aside when she walked in, and they all assumed that she was a princess, for no one recognized her. The king came up to her, gave her his hand, and all the while he was dancing with her, he was thinking in his heart: “I’ve never set eyes on anyone as beautiful as she is.”

  When the dance was over, Furrypelts curtseyed, and before the king knew it she had vanished, and no one had any idea where she had gone. The guards keeping watch were summoned and interrogated, but no one had seen her.

  Furrypelts had raced off to her little den, removed her dress, blackened her hands and face, put on the cloak of furs, and had turned back into her old self. When she returned to the kitchen to get back to her work sweeping the ashes, the cook said: “That can wait until tomorrow. I’d like you to cook the king’s soup, because I want to take a look upstairs too. But don’t you dare let a hair fall into the soup or you’ll never get anything to eat again.”

  The cook left, and Furrypelts made a soup for the king, a bread soup that was as good as she could make it. When she had finished, she went into her little den to retrieve the golden ring, which she put right in the bowl into which she had ladled the soup. When the ball was over, the king sent for his soup, and he ate it up. It tasted so good that he could not stop talking about how delicious it was. When he got to the bottom of the bowl, he found a golden ring and couldn’t figure out how it had landed there. He sent for the cook, who was terrified when he got the order to appear before the king and said to Furrypelts: “You must have let a hair fall in the soup. If it’s true, I’ll box your ears.”

  When the cook appeared before the king, the king asked who had prepared the soup. The cook replied: “I did.” But the king said: “That can’t be true. It tasted different and was much better than usual.” Then the cook replied: “I guess I have to admit it. It was Furrypelts, not I, who cooked the soup.” The king said: “Go tell her to come see me.”

  When Furrypelts got there, the king asked: “Who are you?”

  “I’m a poor child who has neither father nor mother.”

  Then he continued with his questioning: “Why are you here in my castle?”

  “The only thing I’m good for is having boots thrown at my head.”

  He then asked: “Where did you get that ring that was in my soup?”

  “I don’t know anything about a ring,” she replied.

  And so the king couldn’t get any answers to his questions and had to let her go.

  After some time there was another ball, and as before, Furrypelts asked the cook for permission to go up and take a look. He replied: “All right, but be sure to come back in a half hour to cook that bread soup that the king likes so much.”

  Furrypelts ran over to her little den, washed up as fast as she could, removed the dress that was silvery as the moon from the nutshell, and put it on. Then she went upstairs, looking like a princess. The king approached her and was overjoyed to see her again. Just then the music sounded, and the two danced together. When the dance was over, Furrypelts vanished into thin air, and the king couldn’t tell where she had gone. She
raced over to her little den and turned herself back into her old self and went to the kitchen to cook the bread soup. When the cook was upstairs, she took out the golden spinning wheel and put it in the bowl and poured the soup over it. It was taken to the king who ate it and found that it tasted just as good as before. He summoned the cook who had to admit that Furrypelts had made the soup this time too. Furrypelts had to appear before the king again, but all she said was that she was there so that boots could be thrown at her head and, also, that she knew nothing about that little golden spinning wheel.

  When the king gave a ball for the third time, everything happened as before. But the cook said: “You must be a witch, Furrypelts, for you’re always putting something into the soup that makes the king like it better than the soup I cook for him.” But since Furrypelts pleaded with him, he let her go to the ball anyway for a little while. This time she put on the dress that glittered like the stars and walked into the ballroom. The king danced once again with the beautiful maiden and believed she was even more beautiful than before. While he was dancing, he put the golden ring on her finger without her being aware of it. He also ordered the musicians to play longer than before. When the music came to an end, he tried to grab her hands and hold on tight to her, but she tore herself away and ran so fast into the crowds that she vanished before his very eyes. She ran as fast as she could over to her little den under the stairs, but since she had stayed longer than the usual half hour, she didn’t have time to take off the beautiful dress and just threw the cloak of furs over it. She was in such a big hurry that she didn’t manage to blacken herself completely. One finger remained white.

  Furrypelts ran into the kitchen, made the bread soup for the king, and as soon as the cook left, she put the golden bobbin in it. When the king found the golden bobbin at the bottom of his bowl, he called for Furrypelts. He noticed the white finger right away and also saw the ring that he had put on her finger while they were dancing. He grabbed her hand and held it tight. When she tried to work herself free and run off, the cloak of furs opened up a tiny bit, and he could see the dress of stars glittering under it. The king took off the cloak and tore it from her head to reveal her golden hair. There she stood in her full glory, which could no longer be concealed. And when she wiped the soot and ashes off her face, she was more beautiful than anyone ever seen on earth. The king said: “You are my beloved bride, and we shall never part.” The wedding was celebrated, and they lived happily until they died.

  THE SINGING,

  SOARING LARK

  here once lived a man who was planning to take a long journey. As he was bidding his three daughters farewell, he asked them what he could bring back for them. The oldest of the three asked for pearls, the second wanted diamonds, and the third said: “Father dear, I should like to have a singing, soaring lark.” “If I find one, you shall have it,” her father replied. And he kissed all three girls and left.

  When the time came for him to return home, he had already bought pearls and diamonds for the two older girls, but he had searched in vain for the singing, soaring lark that his youngest daughter wanted. That pained him no end, for she was his favorite child. The path home took him through a forest, in the midst of which was a splendid castle. Near the castle there stood a tree, and right at the very top of the tree he saw a lark, singing and soaring.

  “Aha,” he cried out with joy, “you’ve come at just the right time,” and he asked his servant to climb up the tree and catch the creature. But when he walked over to the tree, a lion suddenly leaped to his feet, shook himself, and roared so loudly that the leaves in the tree began to tremble. “If anyone tries to steal my singing, soaring lark,” he shouted, “I’ll eat him up.”

  The man said: “I didn’t realize that the bird was yours. Please spare my life. I’d be happy to make amends and give you plenty of gold for my release.”

  The lion replied: “The only way you can save yourself is to promise to give me whatever your eyes first meet when you return home. If you agree to that, I’ll spare your life and give you the bird as a gift for your daughter into the bargain.”

  “That could turn out to be my youngest daughter,” the man said, and he refused the offer. “She loves me more than the others, and she always runs to meet me when I come back home.”

  The man’s servant was becoming anxious, and he said: “Maybe it won’t be your daughter after all. It could just as well be a cat or a dog that you first see.” And so the man let himself be persuaded to accept the offer, and he took the singing, soaring lark and promised the lion to give him whatever creature he first met on returning home.

  When the man arrived home and walked into his house, the first person whom he met was none other than his beloved youngest daughter. She came running up to him, hugged him and kissed him, and when she saw that he had brought back a singing, soaring lark for her, she was beside herself with joy. But her father could not share her pleasure, and he began to weep, saying. “My dear child, I paid a high price for that little bird. I had to promise you to a ferocious lion, and once he gets you, he’ll tear you to pieces and gobble you up.” He told her about everything that had happened and begged her not to go, no matter what. She consoled him by saying: “Father dearest, if you made a promise, you will have to keep it. I am willing to go, and maybe I can appease the lion and return home safe and sound.”

  The next morning she got directions to the castle from her father and went on her way, feeling confident as she entered the forest. The lion was in reality an enchanted prince. By day he was a lion and all his courtiers were also lions, but at night they all returned to their natural, human form. When she arrived, they gave her a warm welcome and invited her into the castle. At nightfall, the lion was a handsome man, and the two were married in a splendid ceremony. They lived happily together, and all day long they slept, while at night they stayed awake.

  One day her husband came to her and said: “Tomorrow your elder sister is getting married, and there’s going to be a celebration at your father’s house. If you would like to attend, my lions can escort you.” When she arrived home, there was great rejoicing, for everyone believed that she had been torn to pieces by the lion and was no longer alive. But she told them that she was married to a very handsome man and that she was quite happy. She stayed at home for the wedding celebration and then returned to the woods. When the second daughter married and she was once again invited to the wedding, she told the lion: “I don’t want to go alone this time. Why don’t you come with me?” But the lion said that it was too risky. If just a ray of candlelight hit him, then he would be transformed into a dove and would have to spend seven years flying with doves.

  “Oh,” she said, “please come with me. I’ll protect you and make sure that no light falls on you.” And so they left together and took their little child along with them. She had a room constructed with walls so strong and thick that no light could shine through them, and her husband was going to stay there when the candles were lit for the wedding. But the door was made of green wood, and it split and developed a crack that no one noticed.

  The marriage was celebrated with great splendor, and when the procession, with all its torches and candles, passed by the hall, a mere hair’s breadth of light fell on the prince, and at the very instant the light hit him, he was transformed. When she returned and started looking for him, she could not find him anywhere, and all that she could see was a white dove. The dove said to her: “I have to spend the next seven years flying around in the world. But every seven paces you walk, I am going to let fall a drop of red blood and a white feather. They will show you the path, and if you follow my track, you will be able to break the spell.”

  Then the dove flew out the door, and she followed it. Every seven steps a drop of red blood and a little white feather fell to the ground to show her the way. And so she went farther and farther into the wide world, never looking back and never pausing, and the seven years
were almost over. Then she was happy, for it seemed as if they would soon be set free. But in fact they had a long way to go before it was over.

  One day, while she was following the dove, not a single feather fell to the ground and there wasn’t a drop of red blood anywhere, and when she looked up, the dove had disappeared. And since she was quite certain that human beings would not be able to help her, she climbed up to the sun and said: “You shine into every nook and cranny. Have you seen a white dove anywhere?” “No, I haven’t,” the sun said, “but I’m going to give you a little box that you can open if you ever get into trouble.”

  She thanked the sun and kept going until evening, and when she saw the moon, she asked: “You shine all night long over hill and dale. Have you seen a white dove anywhere?” “No, I haven’t,” the moon replied, “but I’m going to give you this egg, which I want you to break if you ever get into trouble.”

  She thanked the moon and kept going until the night wind began rising up and blowing in her direction. She said to the wind: “You blow over all the trees and under every leaf. Have you seen a white dove anywhere?” “No, I haven’t,” the night wind said. “But I’ll ask the three other winds if they have seen a white dove.” The east wind and the west wind said that they had seen nothing, but the south wind said: “I saw the white dove, and it flew over to the Red Sea and turned back into a lion, for the seven years were up. The lion is fighting a dragon, and the dragon is an enchanted princess.” The night wind said to her: “I’m going to give you some advice. Go over to the Red Sea and there, on the right bank, you will find some tall reeds growing. Count them, and then cut down the eleventh one and use it to smite the dragon. If you do that, the lion will be able to vanquish it, and both will return to their human forms. Then turn around, and you will find a griffin on the shore of the Red Sea. Climb up on its back with your beloved. The bird will carry you back home across the sea. I’m going to give you a nut which you should drop while you’re flying over the sea. It will sprout, and out of the water will rise a huge nut tree which the griffin can rest on, because if it doesn’t have a chance to rest, it won’t have the strength to carry you across the sea. If you forget to drop the nut, the bird will let you fall into the sea.”