‘Little kid, milk
Table, appear!’
‘Little kid, milk
Table, depart!’
“Little kid, milk
Table, appear!”
“Little kid, milk
Table, depart!”
When Two-Eyes, therefore, was about to set off, One-Eye told her she was going with her to see whether she took proper care of the goat and fed her sufficiently. Two-Eyes, however, divined her sister’s object, and drove the goat where the grass was finest, and then said, “Come, One-Eye, let us sit down, and I will sing to you.” So One-Eye sat down, for she was quite tired with her unusual walk, and the heat of the sun.
“Are you awake or asleep, One-Eye!
Are you awake or asleep!”
sang Two-Eyes, until her sister really went to sleep. As soon as she was quite sound the maiden had her table out, and ate and drank all she needed; and by the time One-Eye awoke again the table had disappeared, and the maiden said to her sister, “Come, we will go home now; while you have been sleeping the goat might have run about all over the world!” So they went home, and, after Two-Eyes had left her meal untouched, the mother inquired of One-Eye what she had seen, and she was obliged to confess that she had been asleep.
The following morning the mother told Three-Eyes that she must go out and watch Two-Eyes, and see who brought her food, for it was certain that some one must. So Three-Eyes told her sister that she was going to accompany her that morning to see if she took care of the goat and fed her well; but Two-Eyes saw through her design, and drove the goat again to the best feeding-place. Then she asked her sister to sit down and she would sing to her, and Three-Eyes did so, for she was very tired with her long walk in the heat of the sun. Then Two-Eyes began to sing as before:—but, instead of continuing as she should have done, she said by mistake, and so went on singing:—
“Are you awake, Three-Eyes!”
“Are you asleep, Three-Eyes!”
“Are you asleep, Two-Eyes!”
“Are you awake, Three-Eyes!
Are you asleep, Two-Eyes!”
By-and-by Three-Eyes closed two of her eyes, and went to sleep with them; but the third eye, which was not spoken to, kept open. Three-Eyes, however, cunningly shut it too, and feigned to be asleep, while she was really watching; and soon Two-Eyes, thinking all safe, repeated the words:—and as soon as she was satisfied she said the old words:—
“Little kid, milk
Table, appear!”
“Little kid, milk
Table, depart!”
Three-Eyes watched all these proceedings; and presently Two-Eyes came and awoke her, saying, “Ah, sister! you are a good watcher; but come, let us go home now.” When they reached home Two-Eyes again ate nothing; and her sister told her mother she knew now why the haughty hussy would not eat their victuals. “When she is out in the meadow,” said her sister, “she says,‘Little kid, milk
Table, appear!’
and directly a table comes up laid out with meat and wine, and everything of the best, much better than we have; and as soon as she has had enough she says, and all goes away directly, as I clearly saw. Certainly she did put to sleep two of my eyes; but the one in the middle of my forehead luckily kept awake!”
“Will you have better things than us?” cried the envious mother; “then you shall lose the chance;” and, so saying, she took a carving-knife and killed the goat dead.
‘Little kid, milk
Table, depart!’
As soon as Two-Eyes saw this she went out very sorrowful to the old spot and sat down where she had sat before to weep bitterly. All at once the wise Woman stood in front of her again, and asked why she was crying? “Must I not cry,” replied she, “when the goat which used to furnish me every day with a dinner, according to your promise, has been killed by my mother, and I am again suffering hunger and thirst?” “Two-Eyes,” said the wise Woman, “I will give you a piece of advice. Beg your sisters to give you the entrails of the goat, and bury them in the earth before the house-door, and your fortune will be made.” So saying, she disappeared; and Two-Eyes went home, and said to her sisters, “Dear sisters, do give me some part of the slain kid; I desire nothing else; let me have the entrails.” The sisters laughed, and readily gave them to her; and she buried them secretly before the threshold of the door, as the wise Woman had bidden her.
The following morning they found in front of the house a wonderfully beautiful tree, with leaves of silver and fruits of gold hanging from the boughs, than which nothing more splendid could be seen in the world. The two elder sisters were quite ignorant how the tree came where it stood; but Two-Eyes perceived that it was produced by the goat’s entrails, for it stood on the exact spot where she had buried them. As soon as the mother saw it she told One-Eye to break off some of the fruit. One-Eye went up to the tree, and pulled a bough towards her, to pluck off the fruit; but the bough flew back again directly out of her hands; and so it did every time she took hold of it, till she was forced to give up, for she could not obtain a single golden apple in spite of all her endeavours. Then the Mother said to Three-Eyes, “Do you climb up, for you can see better with your three eyes than your sister with her one.” Three-Eyes, however, was not more fortunate than her sister, for the golden apples flew back as soon as she touched them. At last the mother got so impatient that she climbed the tree herself; but she met with no more success than either of her daughters, and grasped the air only when she thought she had the fruit. Two-Eyes now thought she would try, and said to her sisters, “Let me get up; perhaps I may be successful.” “Oh! you are very likely, indeed,” said they, “with your two eyes; you will see well, no doubt!” So Two-Eyes climbed the tree, and directly she touched the boughs the golden apples fell into her hands, so that she plucked them as fast as she could, and filled her apron before she went down. Her mother took them of her, but returned her no thanks; and the two sisters, instead of treating Two-Eyes better than they had done, were only the more envious of her, because she alone could gather the fruits—in fact, they treated her worse.
One morning, not long after the springing up of the apple-tree, the three sisters were all standing together beneath it, when in the distance a young Knight was seen riding towards them. “Make haste, Two-Eyes!” exclaimed the two elder sisters, “make haste and creep out of our way, that we may not be ashamed of you;” and so saying, they put over her in great haste an empty cask which stood near, and which covered the golden apples as well, which she had just been plucking off. Soon the Knight came up to the tree, and the sisters saw he was a very handsome man, for he stopped to admire the fine silver leaves and golden fruit, and presently asked to whom the tree belonged, for he should like to have a branch off it. One-Eye and Three-Eyes replied that the tree belonged to them; and they tried to pluck a branch off for the Knight. They had their trouble for nothing, however; for the boughs and fruits flew back as soon as they touched them. “This is very wonderful,” cried the Knight, “that this tree should belong to you, and yet you cannot pluck the fruit!” The sisters, however, maintained that it was theirs; but while they spoke Two-Eyes rolled a golden apple from underneath the cask, so that it travelled to the feet of the Knight, for she was angry because her elder sisters had not spoken the truth. When he saw the apple he was astonished, and asked where it came from, and One-Eye and Three-Eyes said they had another sister, but they dared not let her be seen, because she had only two eyes, like common folk! The Knight, however, would see her, and called, “Two-Eyes, come here!” and soon she made her appearance from under the cask. The Knight was bewildered at her great beauty, and said, “You, Two-Eyes, can surely break off a bough of this tree for me?” “Yes,” she replied, “that I will, for it is my property;” and, climbing up, she easily broke off a branch with silver leaves and golden fruit, which she handed to the Knight. “What can I give you in return, Two-Eyes?” asked the Knight. “Alas! if you will take me with you I shall be happy, for now I suffer hunger and thir
st, and am in trouble and grief from early morning to late evening: take me, and save me!” Thereupon the Knight raised Two-Eyes upon his saddle, and took her home to his father’s castle. There he gave her beautiful clothes, and all she wished for to eat or to drink; and afterwards, because his love for her had become so great, he married her, and a very happy wedding they had.
Her two sisters meanwhile were very jealous when Two-Eyes was carried off by the Knight; but they consoled themselves by saying, “The wonderful tree remains still for us; and, even if we cannot get at the fruit, everybody that passes will stop to look at it, and then come and praise it to us. Who knows where our wheat may bloom!” The morning after this speech, however, the tree disappeared, and with it all their hopes; but, when Two-Eyes that same day looked out of her chamber window, behold, the tree stood before it, and there remained!
For a long time after this occurrence Two-Eyes lived in the enjoyment of the greatest happiness; and one morning two poor women came to the palace and begged an alms. Two-Eyes, after looking narrowly at their faces, recognised her two sisters One-Eye and Three-Eyes, who had come to such great poverty that they were forced to wander about begging their bread from day to day. Two-Eyes, however, bade them welcome, invited them in, and took care of them, till they both repented of the evil which they had done to their sister in the days of their childhood.
The Six Servants
Along time ago lived an old Queen, who was also an enchantress ; and her daughter was the most beautiful crea ture under the sun. But the old woman was ever thinking how to entice men, in order to kill them, and every suitor, therefore, who came was compelled, before he could marry the daughter, to answer a riddle which the Queen proposed, and which was always so puzzling that it could not be solved; and the unfortunate lover was thereupon forced to kneel down and have his head struck off. Many and many a poor youth had been thus destroyed, for the maiden was very pretty; and still another King’s son was found who made up his mind to brave the danger. He had heard of the great beauty of the Princess, and he prayed his father to let him go and win her. “Never!” replied the King, “if you go away, you go to die!” At this answer the son felt very ill, and so continued for seven years nigh unto death’s door, for no physician could do him any good. At last, when the old King saw all hope was gone, he said to his son, “Go now and try your fortune, for I know not how else to restore you!” As soon as the Prince heard the word he jumped up from his bed, and felt new strength and vigour return to him while he made ready for his journey.
Soon he set off, and as he rode along across a common he saw at a distance something lying on the ground like a bundle of hay; but, as he approached nearer, he discovered that it was a Man who had stretched himself on the earth, and was as big as a little hill! The fellow waited till the Prince came up, and then said to him, rising as he spoke, “If you need any one take me into your service!”
“What shall I do with such an uncouth fellow as you?” asked the Prince.
“That matters not,” replied the Man, “were I a thousand times as clumsy, if I can render you a service.”
“Very well, perhaps I shall need you,” said the Prince; “come with me.” So Fatty accompanied his new master, and presently they met with another Man, who was also lying on the ground, with his ear close to the grass. “What are you doing there?” asked the Prince.
“I am listening,” he replied.
“And to what are you listening so attentively?” pursued the Prince.
“I am listening to what is going on in the world around,” said the Man, “for nothing escapes my hearing; I can even hear the grass growing.”
“Tell me, then,” said the Prince, “tell me what is passing at the court of the old Queen who has such a beautiful daughter.”
“I hear,” replied the Man, “the whistling of the sword which is about to cut off the head of an unsuccessful wooer.”
“Follow me, I can find a use for you,” said the Prince to the Listener; and so the three now journeyed together. Presently they came to a spot where were lying two feet and part of two legs, but they could not see the continuation of them till they had walked a good stretch further, and then they came to the body, and at length to the head. “Hulloa!” cried the Prince, “what a length you are!”
“Oh!” replied Long-Legs, “not so much of that! why, if I stretch my limbs out as far as I can, I am a thousand times as long, and taller than the highest mountain on the earth; but, if you will take me, I am ready to serve you.”
The Prince accepted his offer, and, as they went along they came to a man who had his eyes bandaged up. “Have you blood-shot eyes,” inquired the Prince, “that you bind your eyes up in that way?”
“No!” replied the Man; “but I dare not take away the bandage, for whatever I look at splits in two, so powerful is my sight; nevertheless, if I am of use, I will accompany you.”
Thereupon the Prince accepted also the services of this Man; and, as they went on, they found another fellow, who, although he was lying on the ground in the scorching heat of the sun, trembled and shivered so that not a limb in his body stood still. “What makes you freeze, when the sun shines like this?” asked the Prince.
“Alas! my nature is quite different from anything else!” replied the Man; “the hotter it is the colder I feel, and the frost penetrates all my bones; while the colder it is the hotter I feel; so that I cannot touch ice for the heat of my body, nor yet go near the fire for fear I should freeze it!”
“You are a wonderful fellow!” said the Prince; “come with me, and perhaps I may need you.” So the Man followed with the rest; and they came next to a Man who was stretching his neck to such a length that he could see over all the neighbouring hills. “What are you looking at so eagerly?” asked the Prince.
“I have such clear eyes,” replied the Man, “that I can see over all the forests, fields, valleys, and hills; in fact, quite round the world!”
“Come with me, then,” said the Prince, “for I have need of a companion like you.”
The Prince now pursued his way with his six servants to the city where the old Queen dwelt. When he arrived he would not tell his name, but told the Witch if she would give him her daughter he would do all she desired. The old Enchantress was delighted to have such a handsome young man fall into her clutches, and told him she would set him three tasks, and, if he performed them all, the Princess should become his wife.
“What is the first, then?” asked the Prince.
“You must fetch for me a ring which I have let fall into the Red Sea,” said the Queen. Then the Prince returned home to his servants, and said to them, “The first task is no easy one; it is to fetch a ring out of the Red Sea; but let us consult together.”
“I will see where it lies,” said he with the clear eyes; and, looking down into the water, he continued, “there it hangs on a pointed stone!”
“If I could but see it I would fetch it up,” said Long-Arms. “Is that all?” said Fatty, and, lying down on the bank, he held his mouth open to the water and the stream ran in as if into a pit, till at length the whole sea was as dry as a meadow. Long-Arms, thereupon, bent down a little, and fetched out the ring, to the great joy of the Prince, who carried it to the old Witch. She was mightily astonished, but confessed it was the right ring. “The first task you have performed, happily,” she said; “but now comes the second. Do you see those three hundred oxen grazing on the meadows before my palace; all those you must consume, flesh, bones, and skins, and horns; then in my cellar are three hundred casks of wine, which must all be drunk out by you; and if you leave a single hair of any of the oxen, or one drop of the wine you will lose your life.”
“May I invite any guests to the banquet,” asked the Prince, “for no dinner is worth having without?” The old Woman smiled grimly, but told him he might have one guest for company, but no more.
Thereupon the Prince returned again to his servants, and told them what the task was; and then he invited Fatty to
be his guest. He came, and quickly consumed the three hundred oxen, flesh and bones, skin and horns, while he made as if it were only a good breakfast. Next he drank all the wine out of every cask, without so much as using a glass, but draining them all to the very dregs. As soon as the meal was over the Prince went and told the Queen he had performed the second task. She was much astonished, and said no one had ever before got so far as that; but she determined that the Prince should not escape her, for she felt confident he would lose his head about the third task. “This evening,” said she, “I will bring my daughter into your room, and you shall hold her round with one arm; but mind you do not fall asleep while you sit there, for at twelve o’clock I shall come, and if my daughter is not with you then you are lost.” “This task is easy,” thought the Prince to himself; “I shall certainly keep my eyes open.” Still he called his servants together, and told them what the old woman had said. “Who knows,” said he, “what craftiness may be behind? foresight is necessary; do you keep watch, that nobody passes out of the chamber during the night.”
Grimm's Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 48