After seven years more, when he was fourteen years old, he again went thither, and there stood the castle. When he had opened it, there was nothing within but a horse,—a white one. Then the boy was so full of joy because he had a horse, that he mounted on it and galloped back to his father. “Now I have a white horse, and I will travel,” said he. So he set out, and as he was on his way, a pen was lying on the road. At first he thought he would pick it up, but then again he thought to himself: “You should leave it lying there; you will easily find a pen where you are going, if you have need of one.” As he was thus riding away, a voice called after him: “Ferdinand the Faithful, take it with you.” He looked around, but saw no one; so he went back again and picked it up. When he had ridden a little way farther, he passed by a lake, and a fish was lying on the bank, gasping and panting for breath, so he said: “Wait, my dear fish, I will help you to get into the water,” and he took hold of it by the tail, and threw it into the lake. Then the fish put its head out of the water and said: “As you have helped me out of the mud I will give you a flute; when you are in any need, play on it, and then I will help you, and if ever you let anything fall in the water, just play and I will reach it out to you.” Then he rode away, and there came to him a man who asked him where he was going. “Oh, to the next place.” “What is your name?” “Ferdinand the Faithful.” “So! then we have got almost the same name, I am called Ferdinand the Unfaithful.” And they both set out to the inn in the nearest place.
Now it was unfortunate that Ferdinand the Unfaithful knew everything that the other had ever thought and everything he was about to do; he knew it by means of all kinds of wicked arts. There was in the inn an honest girl, who had a bright face and behaved very prettily. She fell in love with Ferdinand the Faithful because he was a handsome man, and she asked him whither he was going. “Oh, I am just traveling round about,” said he. Then she said he ought to stay there, for the King of that country wanted an attendant or an outrider, and he ought to enter his service. He answered he could not very well go to any one like that and offer himself. Then said the maiden: “Oh, but I will soon do that for you.” And so she went straight to the King, and told him that she knew of an excellent servant for him. He was well pleased with that, and had Ferdinand the Faithful brought to him, and wanted to make him his servant. He, however, liked better to be an outrider, for where his horse was, there he also wanted to be, so the King made him an outrider. When Ferdinand the Unfaithful learnt that, he said to the girl: “What! Do you help him and not me?” “Oh,” said the girl, “I will help you too.” She thought: “I must keep friends with that man, for he is not to be trusted.” She went to the King, and offered him as a servant, and the King was willing.
Now when the King met his lords in the morning, he always lamented and said: “Oh, if I only had my love with me.” Ferdinand the Unfaithful, however, was always hostile to Ferdinand the Faithful. So once, when the King was complaining thus, he said: “You have the outrider, send him away to get her, and if he does not do it, his head must be struck off.” Then the King sent for Ferdinand the Faithful, and told him that there was, in this place or in that place, a girl he loved, and that he was to bring her to him, and if he did not do it he should die.
Ferdinand the Faithful went into the stable to his white horse, and complained and lamented: “Oh, what an unhappy man am I!” Then someone behind him cried: “Ferdinand the Faithful, why do you weep?” He looked round but saw no one, and went on lamenting: “Oh, my dear little white horse, now must I leave you; now must I die.” Then someone cried once more: “Ferdinand the Faithful, why do you weep?” Then for the first time he was aware that it was his little white horse who was putting that question. “Do you speak, my little white horse; can you do that?” And again, he said: “I am to go to this place and to that, and am to bring the bride; can you tell me how I am to set about it?” Then answered the little white horse: “Go to the King, and say if he will give you what you must have, you will get her for him. If he will give you a ship full of meat, and a ship full of bread, it will succeed. Great giants dwell on the lake, and if you take no meat with you for them, they will tear you to pieces, and there are the large birds which would pluck the eyes out of your head if you had no bread for them.” Then the King made all the butchers in the land kill, and all the bakers bake, that the ships might be filled. When they were full, the little white horse said to Ferdinand the Faithful: “Now mount me, and go with me into the ship, and then when the giants come, say:
‘Peace, peace, my dear little giants,
I have had thought of ye,
Something I have brought for ye.’
And when the birds come, you shall again say:
‘Peace, peace, my dear little birds,
I have had thought of ye,
Something I have brought for ye.’
Then they will do nothing to you, and when you come to the castle, the giants will help you. Then go up to the castle, and take a couple of giants with you. There the princess lies sleeping; you must, however, not awaken her, but the giants must lift her up, and carry her in her bed to the ship.” And now everything took place as the little white horse had said, and Ferdinand the Faithful gave the giants and the birds what he had brought with him for them, and that made the giants willing, and they carried the princess in her bed to the King. And when she came to the King, she said she could not live, she must have her writings, they had been left in her castle. Then by the instigation of Ferdinand the Unfaithful, Ferdinand the Faithful was called, and the King told him he must fetch the writings from the castle, or he should die. Then he went once more into the stable, and bemoaned himself and said: “Oh, my dear little white horse, now I am to go away again, how am I to do it?” Then the little white horse said he was just to load the ships full again. So it happened again as it had happened before, and the giants and the birds were satisfied, and made gentle by the meat. When they came to the castle, the white horse told Ferdinand the Faithful that he must go in, and that on the table in the princess’s bed-room lay the writings. And Ferdinand the Faithful went in, and fetched them. When they were on the lake, he let his pen fall into the water; then said the white horse: “Now I cannot help you at all.” But he remembered his flute, and began to play on it, and the fish came with the pen in its mouth, and gave it to him. So he took the writings to the castle, where the wedding was celebrated.
The Queen, however, did not love the King because he had no nose, but she would have much liked to love Ferdinand the Faithful. Once, therefore, when all the lords of the court were together, the Queen said she could do feats of magic, that she could cut off anyone’s head and put it on again, and that one of them ought just to try it. But none of them would be the first, so Ferdinand the Faithful, again at the instigation of Ferdinand the Unfaithful, undertook it and she hewed off his head, and put it on again for him, and it healed together directly, so that it looked as if he had a red thread round his throat. Then the King said to her: “My child, and where have you learnt that?” “Oh,” she said, “I understand the art; shall I just try it on you also?” “Oh, yes,” said he. So she cut off his head, but did not put it on again; and pretended that she could not get it on, and that it would not stay. Then the King was buried, but she married Ferdinand the Faithful.
He, however, always rode on his white horse, and once when he was seated on it, it told him that he was to go on to the heath which he knew, and gallop three times round it. And when he had done that, the white horse stood up on its hind legs, and was changed into a King’s son.
The Iron Stove
IN THE days when wishing was still of some use, a King’s son was bewitched by an old witch, and shut up in an iron stove in a forest. There he passed many years, and no one could rescue him. Then a King’s daughter came into the forest, who had lost herself, and could not find her father’s kingdom again. After she had wandered about for nine days, she at length came to the iron stove. Then a voice came forth from it, an
d asked her: “Whence do you come, and whither are you going?” She answered: “I have lost my father’s kingdom, and cannot get home again.” Then a voice inside the iron stove said: “I will help you to get home again, and that indeed most swiftly, if you will promise to do what I desire of you. I am the son of a far greater King than your father, and I will marry you.”
Then was she afraid, and thought: “Good Heavens! What can I do with an iron stove?” But as she much wished to get home to her father, she promised to do as he desired. But he said: “You shall return here, and bring a knife with you, and scrape a hole in the iron.” Then he gave her a companion who walked near her, but did not speak, and in two hours he took her home; there was great joy in the castle when the King’s daughter came home, and the old King fell on her neck, and kissed her. She, however, was sorely troubled, and said: “Dear father, what I have suffered! I should never have got home again from the great wild forest, if I had not come to an iron stove, but I have been forced to give my word that I will go back to it, set it free, and marry it.” Then the old King was so terrified that he all but fainted, for he had but this one daughter. They therefore resolved they would send, in her place, the miller’s daughter, who was very beautiful. They took her there, gave her a knife, and said she was to scrape at the iron stove. So she scraped at it for four-and-twenty hours, but could not bring off the least morsel of it. When day dawned, a voice in the stove said: “It seems to me it is day outside.” Then she answered: “It seems so to me too; I fancy I hear the noise of my father’s mill.”
“So you are a miller’s daughter! Then go your way at once, and let the King’s daughter come here.” Then she went away at once, and told the old King that the man outside there would have none of her—he wanted the King’s daughter. Then the old King grew frightened, and the daughter wept. But there was a swine-herd’s daughter, who was even prettier than the miller’s daughter, and they determined to give her a piece of gold to go to the iron stove instead of the King’s daughter. So she was taken thither, and she also had to scrape for four-and-twenty hours. She, however, was no better at it. When day broke, a voice inside the stove cried: “It seems to me it is day outside!” Then answered she: “So it seems to me also; I fancy I hear my father’s horn blowing.”
“Then you are a swineherd’s daughter! Go away at once, and tell the King’s daughter to come, and tell her all must be done as was promised, and if she does not come, everything in the kingdom shall be ruined and destroyed, and not one stone be left standing on another.” When the King’s daughter heard that she began to weep, but now there was nothing for it but to keep her promise. So she took leave of her father, put a knife in her pocket, and went forth to the iron stove in the forest. When she got there, she began to scrape, and the iron gave way, and when two hours were over, she had already scraped a small hole. Then she peeped in, and saw a youth so handsome, and so brilliant with gold and with precious jewels, that her very soul was delighted. So she went on scraping, and made the hole so large that he was able to get out. Then said he: “You are mine, and I am yours; you are my bride, and have released me.” He wanted to take her away with him to his kingdom, but she entreated him to let her go once again to her father, and the King’s son allowed her to do so, but she was not to say more to her father than three words, and then she was to come back again. So she went home, but she spoke more than three words, and instantly the iron stove disappeared, and was taken far away over glass mountains and piercing swords; but the King’s son was set free, and no longer shut up in it. After this she bade good-bye to her father, took some money with her, but not much, and went back to the great forest, and looked for the iron stove, but it was nowhere to be found. For nine days she sought it, and then her hunger grew so great that she did not know what to do, for she had nothing to live on. When it was evening, she seated herself in a small tree, and made up her mind to spend the night there, as she was afraid of wild beasts. When midnight drew near she saw in the distance a small light, and thought: “Ah, there I should be saved!” She got down from the tree, and went towards the light, but on the way she prayed. Then she came to a little old house, and much grass had grown all about it, and a small heap of wood lay in front of it. She thought: “Ah, whither have I come,” and peeped in through the window, but she saw nothing inside but toads, big and little, except a table well covered with wine and roast meat, and the plates and glasses were of silver. Then she took courage, and knocked at the door, and immediately the fat toad cried:
“Little green waiting-maid,
Waiting-maid with the limping leg,
Little dog of the limping leg,
Hop hither and thither,
And quickly see who is without.”
And a small toad came walking by and opened the door to her, When she entered, they all bade her welcome, and she was forced to sit down. They asked: “Where have you come from, and whither are you going?” Then she related all that had befallen her, and how because she had transgressed the order which had been given her not to say more than three words, the stove, and the King’s son also, had disappeared, and now she was about to seek him over hill and dale until she found him. Then the old fat one said:
“Little green waiting-maid,
Waiting-maid with the limping leg,
Little dog of the limping leg,
Hop hither and thither,
And bring me the great box.”
Then the little one went and brought the box. After this they gave her meat and drink, and took her to a well-made bed, which felt like silk and velvet, and she laid herself therein, in God’s name, and slept. When morning came she arose, and the old toad gave her three needles out of the great box which she was to take with her; they would be needed by her, for she had to cross a high glass mountain, and go over three piercing swords and a great lake. If she did all this she would get her lover back again. Then she gave her three things, which she was to take the greatest care of, namely, three large needles, a plough-wheel, and three nuts. With these she traveled onwards, and when she came to the glass mountain which was so slippery, she stuck the three needles first behind her feet and then before them, and so got over it, and when she was over it, she hid them in a place which she marked carefully. After this she came to the three piercing swords, and then she seated herself on her plough-wheel, and rolled over them. At last she arrived in front of a great lake, and when she had crossed it, she came to a large and beautiful castle. She went in and asked for a place; she was a poor girl, she said, and would like to be hired. She knew, however, that the King’s son whom she had released from the iron stove in the great forest was in the castle. Then she was taken as a scullery-maid at low wages. But already the King’s son had another maiden by his side whom he wanted to marry, for he thought that she had long been dead.
In the evening, when she had washed up and was done, she felt in her pocket and found the three nuts which the old toad had given her. She cracked one with her teeth, and was going to eat the kernel when lo and behold there was a stately royal garment in it! But when the bride heard of this she came and asked for the dress, and wanted to buy it, and said: “It is not a dress for a servant-girl.” No, she said, she would not sell it, but if the bride would grant her one thing she should have it, and that was permission to sleep one night in her bridegroom’s chamber. The bride gave her permission because the dress was so pretty, and she had never had one like it. When it was evening she said to her bridegroom: “That silly girl will sleep in your room.” “If you are willing, so am I,” said he. She, however, gave him a glass of wine in which she had poured a sleeping-draught. So the bridegroom and the scullery-maid went to sleep in the room, and he slept so soundly that she could not waken him.
She wept the whole night and cried: “I set you free when you were in an iron stove in the wild forest, I sought you, and walked over a glass mountain, and three sharp swords, and a great lake before I found you, and yet you will not hear me!”
The serva
nts sat by the chamber-door, and heard how she thus wept the whole night through, and in the morning they told it to their lord. And the next evening when she had washed up, she opened the second nut, and a far more beautiful dress was within it, and when the bride beheld it, she wished to buy that also. But the girl would not take money, and begged that she might once again sleep in the bridegroom’s chamber. The bride, however, gave him a sleeping-draught, and he slept so soundly that he could hear nothing. But the scullery-maid wept the whole night long, and cried: “I set you free when you were in an iron stove in the wild forest, I sought you, and walked over a glass mountain, and over three sharp swords and a great lake before I found you, and yet you will not hear me!” The servants sat by the chamber-door and heard her weeping the whole night through, and in the morning informed their lord of it. And on the third evening, when she had washed up, she opened the third nut, and within it was a still more beautiful dress which was stiff with pure gold. When the bride saw that she wanted to have it, but the maiden only gave it up on condition that she might for the third time sleep in the bridegroom’s apartment. The King’s son, however, was on his guard, and threw the sleeping-draught away. Now when she began to weep and to cry: “Dearest love, I set you free when you were in the iron stove in the terrible wild forest,” the King’s son leapt up and said: “You are the true one, you are mine, and I am yours.” Thereupon, while it was still night, he got into a carriage with her, and they took away the false bride’s clothes so that she could not get up. When they came to the great lake, they sailed across it, and when they reached the three sharp-cutting swords they seated themselves on the plough-wheel, and when they got to the glass mountain they thrust the three needles in it, and so at length they got to the little old house; but when they went inside, it was a great castle, and the toads were all disenchanted, and were King’s children, and full of happiness. Then the wedding was celebrated, and the King’s son and the princess remained in the castle, which was much larger than the castles of their fathers. But as the old King grieved at being left alone, they fetched him away, and brought him to live with them, and they had two kingdoms, and lived in happy wedlock.
The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales Page 56