The Goose Girl
The Princess thereupon got off her horse, and helped herself at the stream, while she wept and cried, “Ah! woe’s me!” and the three drops of blood said again, “If your mother knew this her heart would break.” As she leaned over the water the napkin wherein were the three drops of blood fell out of her bosom and floated down the stream without her perceiving it, because of her great anguish. But her servant had seen what happened, and she was glad, for now she had power over her mistress; because, with the loss of the drops of blood, she became weak and powerless. When, then, she would mount again upon the horse Falada, the maid said, “No, Falada belongs to me; you must get upon this horse;” and she was forced to yield. Then the servant bade her take off her royal clothes, and put on her common ones instead; and, lastly, she made the Princess promise and swear by the open sky that she would say nought of what had passed at the King’s palace; for if she had not so sworn she would have been murdered. But Falada observed all that passed with great attention.
Now was the servant mounted upon Falada, and the rightful Princess upon a sorry hack; and in that way they travelled on till they came to the King’s palace. On their arrival there were great rejoicings, and the young Prince, running towards them, lifted the servant off her horse, supposing that she was the true bride; and she was led up the steps in state, while the real Princess had to stop below. Just then the old King chanced to look out of his window, and saw her standing in the court, and he remarked how delicate and beautiful she was; and going to the royal apartments, he inquired there of the bride who it was she had brought with her, and left below in the courtyard.
“Only a girl whom I brought with me for company,” said the bride. “Give the wench some work to do, that she may not grow idle.”
The old King, however, had no work for her and knew of nothing, until at last he said, “Ah! there is a boy who keeps the geese; she can help him.” This youth was called Conrad, and the true bride was set to keep geese with him.
Soon after this the false bride said to her betrothed, “Dearest, will you grant me a favour?” “Yes,” said he “with the greatest pleasure.” “Then let the knackerw be summoned, that he may cut off the head of the horse on which I rode hither, for it has angered me on the way.” In reality she feared lest the horse might tell how she had used the rightful Princess, and she was glad when it was decided that Falada should die. This came to the ears of the Princess, and she promised secretly to the knacker to give him a piece of gold if he would show her a kindness, which was that he would nail the head of Falada over a certain large and gloomy arch through which she had to pass daily with the geese, so that then she might still see, as she had been accustomed, her old steed. The knacker promised, and, after killing the horse, nailed the head in the place which was pointed out, over the door of the arch.
Early in the morning, when she and Conrad drove the geese through the arch, she said in passing—and the head replied,
“Ah, Falada, that you should hang there!”
“Ah, Princess, that you should pass here!
If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break!”
Then she drove on through the town to a field, and when they arrived on the meadow she sat down and unloosened her hair, which was of a pure gold, and its shining appearance so charmed Conrad that he endeavoured to pull out a couple of locks. So she sang, Immediately there came a strong wind which took Conrad’s hat quite off his head, and led him a rare dance all over the meadows, so that when he returned, what with combing and curling, the Princess had rearranged her hair, so that he could not catch a loose lock. This made Conrad very angry, and he would not speak to her, so that all day long they tended their geese in silence, and at evening they went home.
“Blow, blow, thou wind,
Blow Conrad’s hat away;
Its rolling do not stay
Till I have combed my hair,
And tied it up behind.”
The following morning they passed again under the gloomy arch, and the true Princess said, and Falada replied,
“Ah, Falada, that you should hang there!”
“Ah, Princess, that you should pass here!
If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break!”
Afterwards, when they got into the meadow, Conrad tried again to snatch one of her golden locks, but she sang immediately,
“Blow, blow, thou wind,
Blow Conrad’s hat away;
Its rolling do not stay
Till I have combed my hair,
And tied it up behind.”
So the wind blew and carried the hat so far away that, by the time Conrad had caught it again, her hair was all combed out, and not a single one loose; so they kept their geese till evening as before.
After they returned home, Conrad went to the old King, and declared he would no longer keep geese with the servant.
“Why not?” asked the old King.
“Oh! she vexes me the whole day long,” said Conrad; and then the King bade him relate all that had happened. So Conrad did, and told how in the morning when they passed through a certain archway she spoke to a horse’s head which was nailed up over the door, and said, and it replied, and, further, when they arrived in the meadow, how she caused the wind to blow his hat off, so that he had to run after it ever so far. When he had finished his tale the old King ordered him to drive the geese out again the next morning, and he himself, when morning came, stationed himself behind the gloomy archway, and heard the servant talk to the head of Falada. Then he followed them also into the fields, and hid himself in a thicket by the meadow, and there he saw with his own eyes the goose girl and boy drive in their geese, and after a while she sat down, and unloosening her hair, which shone like gold, began to sing the old rhyme,
“Ah, Falada, that you should hang there!”
“Ah, Princess, that you should pass here!
If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break!”
“Blow, blow, thou wind,
Blow Conrad’s hat away;
Its rolling do not stay
Till I have combed my hair,
And tied it up behind.”
Then the King felt a breeze come which took off Conrad’s hat, so that he had to run a long way after it, while the goose girl combed out her hair and put it back in proper trim before his return. All this the King observed, and then went home unremarked, and when the goose girl returned at evening he called her aside, and asked her what it all meant. “That I dare not tell you, nor any other man,” replied she; “for I have sworn by the free sky not to speak of my griefs, else had I lost my life.”
The King pressed her to say what it was, and left her no peace about it; but still she refused, so at last he said, “If you will not tell me, tell your griefs to this fireplace;” and he went away. Then she crept into the fireplace, and began to weep and groan, and soon she relieved her heart by telling her tale. “Here sit I,” she said, “forsaken by all the world, and yet I am a King’s daughter, and a false servant has exercised some charm over me, whereby I was compelled to lay aside my royal clothes; and she has also taken my place at the bridegroom’s side, and I am forced to perform the common duties of a goose girl. Oh! if my mother knew this, her heart would break with grief.”
The old King meanwhile stood outside by the chimney and listened to what she said, and when she had finished he came in and called her away from the fireplace. Then her royal clothes were put on, and it was a wonder to see how beautiful she was; and the old King, calling his son, showed him that it was a false bride whom he had taken, who was only a servant girl, but the true bride stood there as a goose girl. The young King was glad indeed at heart when he saw her beauty and virtue, and a great feast was announced, to which all people and good friends were invited. On a raised platform sat the bridegroom, with the Princess on one side and the servant girl on the other. But the latte
r was dazzled, and recognised her mistress no longer in her shining dress. When they had finished their feasting, and were beginning to be gay, the old King set a riddle to the servant girl: What such an one were worthy of who had, in such and such a manner, deceived her masters; and he related all that had happened to the true bride. The servant girl replied, “Such an one deserves nothing better than to be put into a cask, stuck all round with sharp nails, and then by two horses to be dragged through street after street till the wretch be killed.”
“Thou art the woman, then!” exclaimed the King; “thou hast proclaimed thine own punishment, and it shall be strictly fulfilled!”
The sentence was immediately carried into effect, and afterwards the young King married his rightful bride, and together they ruled their kingdom long in peace and happiness.
The Valiant Tailor
There was once upon a time an excessively proud Princess, who proposed a puzzle to every one who came a-courting; and he who did not solve it was sent away with ridicule and scorn. This conduct was talked about everywhere, and it was said that whoever was lucky enough to guess the riddle would have the Princess for a wife. About that time it happened that three Tailors came in company to the town where the Princess dwelt, and the two elder of them were confident, when they heard the report, that they should without doubt be successful, since they had made so many fine and good stitches. The third Tailor was an idle, good-for-nothing fellow, who did not understand his own trade; but still he likewise was sure of his own powers of guessing a riddle. The two others, however, would fain have persuaded him to stop at home; but he was obstinate, and said he would go, for he had set his heart upon it; and thereupon he marched off as if the whole world belonged to him.
The three Tailors presented themselves before the Princess, and told her they were come to solve her riddle, for they were the only proper people, since each of them had an understanding so fine that one could thread a needle with it! “Then,” said the Princess, “it is this: I have a hair upon my head of two colours; which are they?”
“If that is all,” said the first man, “it is black and white like the cloth which is called pepper and salt.”
“Wrong!” said the Princess; “now, second man, try!”
“It is not black and white, but brown and red,” said he, “like my father’s holiday coat.”
“Wrong again!” cried the Princess; “now try, third man; who I see will be sure to guess rightly!”
The little Tailor stepped forward, bold as brass, and said, “The Princess has a gold and silver hair on her head, and those are the two colours.”
When the Princess heard this she turned pale, and very nearly fell down to the ground with fright, for the Tailor had guessed her riddle, which she believed nobody in the world could have solved. As soon as she recovered herself, she said to the Tailor. “That is not all you have to do; in the stable below lies a Bear, with which you must pass the night; and if you are alive when I come in the morning I will marry you.”
The little Tailor readily consented, exclaiming, “Bravely ventured is half won!” But the Princess thought herself quite safe, for as yet the Bear had spared no one who came within reach of its paws.
As soon as evening came the little Tailor was taken to the place where the Bear lay; and, as soon as he entered the stable, the beast made a spring at him. “Softly, softly!” cried the Tailor, “I must teach you manners!” And out of his pocket he took some nuts, which he cracked between his teeth quite unconcernedly. As soon as the Bear saw this he took a fancy to have some nuts also: and the Tailor gave him a handful out of his pocket; not of nuts, but of pebbles. The Bear put them into its mouth, but he could not crack them, try all he might. “What a blockhead I am!” he cried to himself; “I can’t crack a few nuts! Will you crack them for me?” said he to the Tailor. “What a fellow you are!” exclaimed the Tailor; “with such a big mouth as that, and can’t crack a small nut!” With these words he cunningly substituted a nut for the pebble which the Bear handed him, and soon cracked it.
“I must try once more!” said the Bear; “it seems an easy matter to manage!” And he bit and bit with all his strength, but, as you may believe, all to no purpose. When the beast was tired, the little Tailor produced a fiddle out of his coat, and played a tune upon it, which as soon as the Bear heard he began to dance in spite of himself. In a little while he stopped and asked the Tailor whether it was easy to learn the art of fiddling. “Easy as child’s play!” said the Tailor; “you lay your left fingers on the strings, and with the right hold the bow: and then away it goes. Merrily, merrily, hop-su-sa, oi-val-lera!”
“Oh! well, if that is fiddling,” cried the Bear, “I may as well learn that, and then I can dance as often as I like. What do you think? Will you give me instruction?”
“With all my heart!” replied the Tailor, “if you are clever enough; but let me see your claws, they are frightfully long, and I must cut them a bit!” By chance a vise was lying in one corner, on which the Bear laid his paws, and the Tailor screwed them fast. “Now wait till I come with the scissors,” said he; and, leaving the Bear groaning and growling, he laid himself down in a corner on a bundle of straw and went to sleep.
Meanwhile the Princess was rejoicing to think she had got rid of the Tailor; and especially when she heard the Bear growling, for she thought it was with satisfaction for his prey. In the morning accordingly she went down to the stable; but as soon as she looked in she saw the Tailor as fresh and lively as a fish in water. She was much alarmed, but it was of no use, for her word had been openly pledged to the marriage; and the King her father ordered a carriage to be brought, in which she and the Tailor went away to the church to the wedding. Just as they had set off, the two other Tailors, who were very envious of their brother’s fortune, went into the stable and released the Bear, who immediately ran after the carriage which contained the bridal party. The Princess heard the beast growling and groaning, and became very much frightened, and cried to the Tailor, “Oh, the Bear is behind, coming to fetch you away!” The Tailor was up in a minute, stood on his head, put his feet out of the window, and cried to the Bear, “Do you see this vise? if you do not go away you shall have a taste of it!” The Bear considered him a minute, and then turned tail and ran back; while the Tailor drove on to church with the Princess, and made her his wife. And very happy they were after the marriage, as merry as larks; and to the end of their lives they lived in contentment.
The Blue Light
There was once upon a time a Soldier, who had served his King faithfully for many years; but when the war came to a close, the Soldier, on account of his many wounds, was disabled, and the King said to him, “You may go home, for I no longer need you: but you will not receive any more pay, for I have no money but for those who render me a service for it.” The Soldier did not know where to earn a livelihood, and, full of care, he walked on the whole day ignorant whither he went, till about night he came to a large forest. Through the darkness which covered everything he saw a light, and approaching it, he found a hut wherein dwelt a Witch. “Please give me a night’s lodging, and something to eat and drink, or I shall perish,” said he to the old woman. “Oho! who gives anything to a worn-out Soldier!” she replied; “still out of compassion I will take you in, if you will do what I desire.” The Soldier asked what she wished, and she told him she wanted her garden dug over. To this he willingly consented, and the following day, accordingly, he worked with all his strength, but could not get his work finished by evening. “I see very well,” said the Witch, “that you cannot get further to-day, so I will shelter you another night; and in return you shall fetch me a pile of logs to-morrow, and chop them small.” The Soldier worked all day long at this job, but as he did not finish till quite the evening, the Witch again proposed that he should stop the night. “You shall have but a very little work to-morrow,” said she; “I want you to fetch me out of a half-dry well behind my house, my blue light, which floats there without ever going out.”
The next morning, accordingly, the old Witch led him to the well, and let him down into it in a basket. He soon found the blue light, and made a sign to be drawn up; and as soon as he reached the top, the old woman tried to snatch the blue light out of his hand. “No, no!” cried the Soldier, perceiving her wicked intentions, “no, no, I don’t give up the light till both my feet stand on dry ground.” The Witch flew into a passion when he said so, and letting him fall down into the well again, went away.
The poor Soldier fell without injury on the soft mud, and the blue light kept burning: but to what use? he saw well that he should not escape death. For a while he sat there in great trouble, and at length searching in his pocket, he took out his tobacco-pipe, which was only half-smoked out. “This shall be my last consolation,” said he to himself; and lighting the pipe at the blue light, he began to puff. As soon, now, as the smoke began to ascend, a little black man suddenly stood before the Soldier, and asked, “Master, what are your commands?”
“What are my commands?” repeated the astonished Soldier. “I must do all you desire,” replied the Dwarf. “That is well,” said the Soldier; “then help me first out of this well.” The Dwarf, thereupon, took him by the hand and led him through a subterraneous passage out of the well, while he carried the blue light with him. On the way he showed the Soldier the concealed treasure of the Witch, of which he took as much as he could carry; and as soon as they were out of the ground he bade the Dwarf fetch the old Witch, and take her before the judge. In a very short time she was brought riding on a wild cat, which made a fearful noise, and ran as swiftly as the wind: and the Dwarf, taking them before the judge, quickly returned to his master, with the news that the Witch was hung on the gallows. “Master, what else have you to command?” inquired the Dwarf. “Nothing further at present,” replied the Soldier, “and now you can go home, only be at hand when I summon you again.”
Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 44