The Grimm Reader

by Maria Tatar

  She went and she found everything was as the night wind had told her. She counted the reeds on the shore, cut down the eleventh one, and when she used it to smite the dragon, the lion was able to vanquish it. And then both returned to their human form. But as soon as the princess, who had been the dragon, was disenchanted, she took the youth by the arm, climbed on the griffin’s back, and rode off with him. The poor girl had wandered so far, and now she was all alone. She sat down and cried. But finally she summoned her courage and said: “I’ll keep going as far as the wind blows and as long as the rooster crows, until I find him at last.” And she covered great distances until she finally reached the castle where the two were living. There she heard that there was going to be a feast to celebrate the marriage of the two. But she said: “God will help me,” and she opened the little box that the sun had given her. In it was a dress that shone like the sun itself. She removed it from the box, put it on, and went to the castle. Everyone there, including the bride, looked at her with astonishment, and the bride liked the dress so much that she thought it would make a good wedding dress. She asked if it might be for sale. “Not for money or gold,” she replied, “but for flesh and blood.”

  The bride asked what she meant by that, and she said: “Let me sleep for one night in the chamber where your groom is staying.” The bride was unwilling, but she really wanted the dress, and so she finally consented, but a servant had slipped the prince a sleeping potion. At night when the youth was sleeping, she was taken into his bedchamber. She sat at his bedside and said: “I followed you for seven years, and I went to the sun, the moon, and the four winds to find you. I helped you in the battle with the dragon. Have you forgotten me completely?”

  The prince was sleeping so soundly that he thought that the wind was just stirring in the branches of the fir trees. At daybreak, she was escorted out and had to give up the dress of gold. When she had failed once again, she became despondent and went out to the meadow, where she sat down and cried. While she was there, she remembered the egg that the moon had given her. She cracked it open and out came a mother hen with twelve chicks, all completely golden. They ran in circles, cheeped, and crawled under their mother’s wings, and you can’t imagine a more charming sight. Then she got up and herded the hen and her chicks across the meadow until she came to the window of the bride, who was so enchanted by the sight of the little chicks that she came right down and asked if they were for sale. “Not for money or gold, but for flesh and blood. Let me spend one night in the chamber where the groom is sleeping.” The bride consented and was planning to deceive her as she had the night before. When the prince went to bed, he asked his servant about the rustling and murmuring that he had heard the night before. The servant told him how he had been forced to give him a sleeping potion because a poor girl was secretly spending the night in his room. Tonight he had been told to give him the potion again.

  The prince said: “Pour the drink out behind my bed.” At night the girl was escorted in, and when she began to talk about her sad plight, he recognized the voice of his beloved wife. He jumped up and said: “Now I am truly set free. It’s as if I’d been dreaming, for a strange princess bewitched me so that I would forget you. But at just the right moment God has lifted the spell.” That night they slipped away from the castle secretly, for they were afraid of the princess’s father, who was a wizard. They climbed on the griffin’s back, and he flew them over the Red Sea, and while they were flying across it, she dropped a nut down, and a tall nut tree rose up. The bird rested in its branches, and then it brought them back home, where they found their child who had grown up and become a handsome lad. And they lived happily until the end of their days.

  THE GOOSE GIRL

  here once lived an old queen whose husband had died some years back, and she had a beautiful daughter. When the princess was of the right age, she was betrothed to a prince who lived far away. The time of the marriage drew near, and the princess was preparing to travel to the distant kingdom. Her mother packed all manner of precious utensils and vessels, jewelry and goblets, gold and silver. She loved her daughter with all her heart and wanted to give her everything she needed for a royal dowry. She made sure there was a chambermaid to accompany the bride on her journey and to deliver her to the groom. Both had horses for the journey. The princess’s horse was named Falada and was able to talk.

  When it was time to part, the mother went to her bedroom, took a little knife, and cut her finger until it bled. Then she held a little white handkerchief under her finger while three drops of blood fell on it. She gave the handkerchief to her daughter with the words: “Dear child, take good care of this. You will need it on your journey.”

  Mother and daughter bid farewell with great sorrow in their hearts. The princess put the handkerchief in her bodice, mounted her horse, and rode off to her betrothed. After they had been on the road for an hour, she felt a fierce thirst and told her maid: “If you dismount here, you can take the cup that you’ve brought along and get me some water from this brook. I’m really thirsty.”

  “If you want something to drink,” the maid replied, “go get it yourself. You can just go to the brook, bend over, and get a drink. I’m not going to wait on you.”

  The princess was so thirsty that she dismounted, bent over the brook, and drank from it. And so she wasn’t able to drink from the golden cup that the maid had with her. “Dear Lord,” she sighed. The three drops of blood replied: “If your mother knew what was happening, it would break her heart.” But the princess was not proud; she got back on her horse and said nothing.

  The two rode on for several miles, but it was a hot day and the sun was beating down on them. The princess was getting thirsty again. When they came to a stream, she called her maid once more and said: “Can you dismount and bring me some water in my golden cup?” She was willing to overlook the cruel words spoken earlier by the maid.

  The maid replied even more arrogantly than before: “If you’re thirsty, go ahead and get a drink. I’m not going to wait on you.”

  The princess was so thirsty that she got off her horse, sat down by the edge of the stream, wept, and said: “Dear God!” And once again the drops of blood replied: “If your mother knew what was happening, it would break her heart.”

  The princess bent down so far to get a drink from the stream that the handkerchief with the three drops of blood slipped out of her bodice and fell into the water. She was feeling so anxious that she never even noticed it, but the maid saw the whole thing and was elated that she now had power over the bride, who, without those drops of blood, had become weak and powerless. When the princess was about to get back on her horse Falada, the maid said: “I’m going to ride on Falada, and you can have my old nag.” The princess couldn’t do anything about it. With harsh words, the maid ordered her to remove her royal clothing and to put on her own plain ones. Finally she had to swear on a stack of Bibles that she would never breathe a word of this to anyone at court. If she had not made this pledge, the maid would have killed her on the spot. Falada saw everything and remembered it well.

  The chambermaid climbed up on Falada, and the true bride mounted the wretched nag, and they rode on until they finally arrived at the royal palace. There was great rejoicing over their arrival, and the prince ran out to meet them and helped the maid dismount, for he was sure that she was his bride. He escorted her up the stairs, and the true princess was left standing down below. The old king was looking out the window and noticed that someone was waiting in the courtyard. He could see how fine, delicate, even beautiful she was, and he went straight to the royal apartment to ask the bride about the girl who had arrived with her and was now waiting down in the courtyard. “Oh, I met her on the way here and brought her along to keep me company. Give her some work to keep her busy.” But the old king didn’t have any work for her, and he couldn’t think of any, so he said: “There’s a young fellow here who tends the geese. She can help him out.
” And so the true bride had to help tend geese with a boy named Conrad.

  Before long the false bride said to the young king: “Dearest husband, I beg you to do me a favor.”

  “Gladly,” he replied.

  “Send for the knacker and have him cut off the head of the horse that brought me here. On the way here that beast really got on my nerves.” The truth was that she was afraid that the horse might start talking and tell everyone how she had behaved around the princess.

  And so the day finally came when the faithful Falada was going to die. The true princess learned what was going to happen, and she made a deal in secret with the knacker. She would give him some money if he did her a small favor. In town there was a large dark gateway through which she passed every morning and evening with the geese. She asked him to nail Falada’s head to the wall of the gateway so that she would be able to see it every day. The knacker promised to do that, and when he cut off the horse’s head, he nailed it to the wall of the gateway.

  Early in the morning, when the princess and Conrad were driving the flock beneath the gateway, she would say as she was passing by:

  “Alas, poor Falada, hanging up there.”

  And the horse’s head would reply:

  “Princess, princess, down and out,

  If your mother found this out,

  There’s no doubt—her heart would break.”

  The two continued on their way out of town, and they drove the geese into the country. When they came to a meadow, the princess sat down and let her hair down, which was like pure gold. When Conrad saw how her hair was glittering, he was fascinated and wanted to pull a few strands out for himself, but she chanted the words:

  “Blow, winds, blow!

  Send Conrad’s hat into the air,

  Flying here and flying there.

  While I comb and braid my hair.

  Blow, winds, blow!”

  A wind came up so strong that it sent Conrad’s hat flying into the air and he had to run after it. By the time he returned, she had finished combing her hair and had put it up in a bun so that he couldn’t pull out a single strand of it. That made him angry, and he wouldn’t talk to her. And so they tended the geese until evening, when they returned home.

  The next morning, they were driving the geese out through the dark gateway again, and the maiden said:

  “Alas, poor Falada, hanging up there.”

  And Falada replied:

  “Princess, princess, down and out,

  If your mother found this out,

  There’s no doubt—her heart would break.”

  Out on the meadow she sat down in the grass again and began to comb her hair. Conrad saw it and wanted to grab some of it, but she quickly began chanting:

  “Blow, winds, blow!

  Send Conrad’s hat into the air,

  Flying here and flying there.

  While I comb and braid my hair.

  Blow, winds, blow!”

  The wind began to blow, and it sent Conrad’s little hat into the air so that he had to go running after it. And when he returned, she had managed to put her hair up in a bun so that he couldn’t grab any of it. And so they tended the geese until night fell.

  In the evening, after they had returned home, Conrad went to the old king and said: “I don’t want to tend geese any longer with that girl.”

  “Why not?” asked the old king.

  “Oh, she’s just so annoying.”

  The king ordered him to explain what was going on between the two of them. Conrad told him that in the morning, when the two of them would drive geese under the dark gateway, there was a horse’s head nailed to the wall. The girl always spoke to it and would say:

  “Alas, poor Falada, hanging up there.”

  And the horse’s head would reply:

  “Princess, princess, down and out,

  If your mother found this out,

  There’s no doubt—her heart would break.”

  Conrad told the king about everything that had taken place on the meadow and how he would have to go chasing after his hat.

  The old king ordered Conrad to go ahead and herd the geese the next day. But in the morning he hid behind the dark gateway and heard how the girl would talk to Falada’s head. Then he went out to the meadow with the two of them and hid behind a bush. There he saw with his own eyes the goose girl and the goose boy coming along with the herd. After a while the girl sat down, undid her braids, and her hair glittered like gold. Then she started chanting:

  “Blow, winds, blow!

  Send Conrad’s hat into the air,

  Flying here and flying there.

  While I comb and braid my hair.

  Blow, winds, blow!”

  A gust of wind came along and carried Conrad’s hat off so swiftly that he had to run after it. The maid then started quietly combing and braiding her hair. The king saw the whole thing, and he left without anyone noticing him. When the goose girl returned home in the evening, he summoned her and asked why she had done all those things.

  “I can’t possibly tell you that, and I can’t pour my feelings out to anyone, for I swore on a stack of Bibles never to tell anybody. I would have been killed otherwise.”

  The king implored her to tell him more, and he wouldn’t stop asking, but it was no use, he couldn’t get anything out of her. Finally he said: “Maybe you can’t reveal anything to me, but how about talking to this old iron stove?” and then he walked away.

  The princess crawled into the iron stove and started weeping and wailing. She poured her feelings out and said: “Here I sit, abandoned by the whole world, even though I’m the daughter of a king. A false maid forced me to remove my royal clothing, and now she has taken my place with my bridegroom. And here I am, forced to do menial work as a goose girl. If my mother knew about this, her heart would break in two.”

  The old king was standing outside with his ear to the stovepipe, and he heard every word she said. He came back into the room and told the girl to get out of the oven. He ordered her to appear in royal garments, and she was so beautiful that it seemed like a miracle had taken place. The old king summoned his son and revealed to him that he was with the wrong bride. The true bride, the former goose girl, was standing right there before him; the other one was just a chambermaid. The young king was elated when he saw that his real bride was both beautiful and virtuous.

  A great festival was arranged, and all the king’s friends—indeed everyone in the land—were invited. The bridegroom sat at the head of the table, with the princess to one side of him, the maid to the other. The maid was dazzled by the princess and didn’t recognize her with all her radiant jewelry. After they had feasted and everyone was in good spirits, the old king put a riddle to the maid: What would a woman deserve if she had betrayed a gentleman in this way and that? He went on to tell the whole story of what had happened, and then he asked: “What punishment does this woman deserve?” The false bride said: “She deserves to be stripped naked and put into a barrel studded on the inside with sharp nails. Then two white horses should be harnessed up to the barrel and made to drag it through the streets until she is dead.”

  “You’re the one I’ve been talking about, and that will be the punishment carried out on you!” the king said. And while the punishment was being imposed, the young king married the true bride, and both ruled the kingdom in peace and joy.

  A FAIRY TALE ABOUT

  A BOY WHO LEFT HOME

  TO LEARN ABOUT FEAR

  here once lived a man who had two sons. The older boy was bright and clever and knew just what to do, and when. The younger was stupid and had trouble learning things, and he understood nothing. People would look at him and say: “A father’s going to have his hands full with that one!” Whenever anything had to be done, it was always up to th
e older boy to do it.

  If the father ever asked the older boy to go fetch something at dusk or, worse yet, at night, and if the path led through a graveyard or some other spooky place, then the boy would say: “Oh, no, Father, I can’t possibly go there. That makes my flesh creep!” The boy was simply afraid. In the evening, when people sat around the fire and told stories that sent shivers down your spine, the listeners would sometimes say: “Oh, that really gives me the creeps!” But the younger of the two boys would just sit in the corner listening to what everyone said, and he could never figure out what they were talking about. “They’re always saying: ‘That gives me the creeps! That gives me the creeps!’ That doesn’t give me the creeps. That’s just some kind of skill that I haven’t been able to develop.”

  One day the boy’s father said to him: “Listen here, you over there in the corner. You’re starting to get big and strong, and you will eventually have to learn a trade and make a living. Look at your brother and how hard he’s working. As for you, talking to you just seems to be a lost cause.”

  “Oh, Father dear,” he said. “I’m really anxious to learn a trade. If it were possible, I’d like to learn how to get the creeps. But I have no idea where to start.”