Part 9
Then the maids-in-waiting came, and put the most splendid clothing on her. Her father and his whole Court arrived, and wished her happiness in her marriage to King Thrushbeard. And the joy now began in earnest. I wish you and I had been there too!
THE GOLD-CHILDREN
There was once a poor man and a poor woman who had nothing but a little cottage. They earned their bread by fishing, and always lived from hand to mouth.
But it came to pass one day, when the man was sitting by the waterside and casting his net, that he drew out a fish entirely of gold.
As he was looking at the fish, full of astonishment, it began to speak and said, “Hark you, Fisherman, if you will throw me back again into the water, I will change your little hut into a splendid castle.”
Then the fisherman answered, “Of what use is a castle to me, if I have nothing to eat?”
The Gold Fish continued, “That shall be taken care of. There will be a cupboard in the castle in which, when you open it, shall be dishes of the most delicate meats, and as many of them as you may desire.”
“If that be true,” said the man, “then I can well do you a favor.”
“Yes,” said the Fish, “there is, however, the condition that you shall tell no one in the world, whosoever he may be, whence your good luck has come. If you speak but one single word, all will be over.”
Then the man threw the wonderful Fish back again into the water, and went home.
Where his hovel had formerly stood, now stood a great castle. He opened wide his eyes, entered, and saw his wife dressed in beautiful clothes, sitting in a splendid room.
She was quite delighted, and said, “Husband, how has all this come to pass? It suits me very well.”
“Yes,” said the man, “it suits me too. But I am frightfully hungry, just give me something to eat.”
Said the wife, “But I have got nothing and don’t know where to find anything in this new house.”
“There is no need of your knowing,” said the man, “for I see yonder a great cupboard, just unlock it.”
When she opened it, lo! there stood cakes, meat, fruit, wine.
Then the woman cried joyfully, “What more can you want, my dear?” and they sat down, and ate and drank together.
When they had had enough, the woman said, “But, Husband, whence come all these riches?”
“Alas,” answered he, “do not question me about it, for I dare not tell you anything. If I disclose it to any one, then all our good fortune will fly.”
“Very good,” said she, “if I am not to know anything, then I do not want to know anything.”
However, she was not in earnest. She never rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in his impatience he revealed that all was owing to a wonderful Gold Fish which he had caught, and to which in return he had given its liberty.
And as soon as the secret was out, the splendid castle with the cupboard immediately disappeared. They were once more in the old fisherman’s hut, and the man was obliged to follow his former trade and fish.
But fortune would so have it, that he once more drew out the Gold Fish. “Listen,” said the Fish, “if you will throw me back into the water again, I will once more give you the castle with the cupboard full of roast and boiled meats. Only be firm; for your life’s sake don’t reveal from whom you have it, or you will lose it all again!”
“I will take good care,” answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back into the water.
Now at home, everything was once more in its former magnificence. The wife was overjoyed at their good fortune. But curiosity left her no peace, so that after a couple of days she began to ask again how it had come to pass, and how he had managed to secure it.
The man kept silence for a short time, but at last she made him so angry that he broke out and betrayed the secret. In an instant the castle disappeared, and they were back again in their old hut.
“Now you have got what you want,” said he; “and we can gnaw at a bare bone again.”
“Ah,” said the woman, “I had rather have no riches; if I am not to know from whom they come, then I have no peace.”
The man went back to fish, and after a while he chanced to draw out the Gold Fish for a third time.
“Listen,” said the Fish, “I see very well that I am fated to fall into your hands. Take me home and cut me into six pieces. Give your wife two of them to eat, two to your horse, and bury two of them in the ground. Then they will bring you a blessing.”
The fisherman took the Fish home with him, and did as it had bidden him.
It came to pass that from the two pieces that were buried in the ground, two Golden Lilies sprang up; that the horse had two Golden Foals; and the fisherman’s wife bore two children who were made entirely of gold.
The children grew up, became tall and handsome, and the lilies and horses grew likewise.
Then the lads said, “Father, we want to mount our Golden Steeds and travel out in the world.”
But he answered sorrowfully, “How shall I bear it, if you go away and I know not how it fares with you?”
Then they said, “The two Golden Lilies remain here. By them you may see how it is with us. If they are fresh, then we are in health. If they are withered, we are ill. If they perish, then we are dead.”
So they rode forth and came to an inn, in which were many people. They perceived the Gold-Children and began to laugh, and jeer.
When one of them heard the mocking he felt ashamed and would not go out into the world, but turned back and went home again to his father. But the other rode forward and reached a great forest.
As he was about to enter it, the people said, “It is not safe for you to ride through; the wood is full of robbers, who would treat you badly. You will fare ill. When they see that you are all of gold and your horse likewise, they will assuredly kill you.”
But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and said, “I must and will ride through it.”
Then he took bear-skins and covered himself and his horse with them, so that the gold was not seen, and rode fearlessly into the forest. When he had ridden onward a little, he heard a rustling in the bushes, and heard voices speaking together.
From one side came cries of, “There is one!” but from the other, “Let him go! ’tis an idle fellow, as poor and bare as a church-mouse. What should we gain from him?”
So the Gold-Child rode joyfully through the forest, and no evil befell him.
One day he entered a village wherein he saw a maiden, who was so beautiful that he did not believe that any more beautiful than she existed in the world.
And as such a mighty love took possession of him, he went up to her and said, “I love you with my whole heart. Will you be my wife?”
He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed and said, “Yes, I will be your wife, and be true to you your whole life long.”
They were married. Then just as they were in the greatest happiness, home came the father of the Bride. When he saw that his daughter’s wedding was being celebrated, he was astonished, and said, “Where is the Bridegroom?”
They showed him the Gold-Child, who, however, still wore his bear-skins.
Then the father said wrathfully, “A vagabond shall never have my daughter!” and was about to kill him.
Then the Bride begged as hard as she could, and said, “He is my husband, and I love him with all my heart!” until at last he allowed himself to be appeased.
Nevertheless the idea never left his thoughts, so that next morning he rose early, wishing to see whether his daughter’s husband was a common ragged beggar. But when he peeped in, he saw a magnificent golden man in the bed, and the cast-off bear-skins lying on the ground.
Then he went back, and thought, “What a good thing it was that I restrained my anger! I should have committed a great crime.”
But the Gold-Child dreamed that he rode out to the chase of a splendid stag, and when he awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, “I must go out hunting.”
She was uneasy, and begged him to stay there, and said, “You might easily meet with a great misfortune.”
But he answered, “I must and will go.”
Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest. It was not long before a fine stag crossed his path exactly according to his dream. He aimed and was about to shoot it, when the stag ran away. He gave chase over hedges and ditches for the whole day without feeling tired. In the evening the stag vanished from his sight, and when the Gold-Child looked round him, he was standing before a little house, wherein was a Witch.
He knocked, and a little old woman came out and asked, “What are you doing so late in the midst of the great forest?”
“Have you not seen a stag?”
“Yes,” answered she, “I know the stag well,” and thereupon a little dog which had come out of the house with her, barked at the man violently.
“Will you be silent, you odious toad,” said he, “or I will shoot you dead.”
Then the Witch cried out in a passion, “What! will you slay my little dog?” and immediately she transformed him, so that he lay like a stone.
Meanwhile his Bride awaited him in vain, and thought, “That which I so greatly dreaded, which lay so heavily on my heart, has come upon him!”
But at home, the other brother was standing by the Gold-Lilies, when one of them suddenly drooped. “Alas!” said he, “my brother has met with some great misfortune! I must away to see if I can possibly rescue him.”
Then he mounted his Golden Horse, and rode forth and entered the great forest, where his brother lay turned to stone. The old Witch came out of her house and called him, wishing to entrap him also.
He did not go near her, but said, “I will shoot you, if you do not bring my brother to life again.”
She touched the stone, though very unwillingly, with her forefinger. Then he was immediately restored to his human shape.
The two Gold-Children rejoiced, when they saw each other again. They kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together out of the forest, the one home to his Bride, the other to his father.
The father then said, “I knew well that you had rescued your brother, for the Golden Lily suddenly rose up and blossomed out again.”
Then they lived happily, and all prospered with them until their death.
LITTLE SNOW-WHITE
Once upon a time, in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a Queen sat at a window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black ebony.
And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, “Would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood of the window-frame.”
Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white as snow, and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony. She was therefore called little Snow-White. And when the child was born, the Queen died.
After a year had passed the King took to himself another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could not bear that any one else should surpass her in beauty. She had a wonderful looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it and looked at herself in it, and said:
“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall, Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”
the Looking-Glass answered:
“_Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all!_”
Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the Looking-Glass spoke the truth.
But little Snow-White was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful. When she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day, and more beautiful than the Queen herself. And once when the Queen asked her Looking-Glass:
“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall, Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”
it answered:
“_Thou art fairer than all who are here, Lady Queen. But more beautiful still is Snow-White, I ween._”
Then the Queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with envy. From that hour, whenever she looked at little Snow-White, her heart heaved in her breast, she hated the maiden so much.
And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed, so that she had no peace day or night. She called a huntsman, and said, “Take the child away into the forest. I will no longer have her in my sight. Kill her.”
The huntsman obeyed, and took her away. But when he had drawn his knife, and was about to pierce little Snow-White’s innocent heart, she began to weep, and said, “Ah, dear Huntsman, leave me my life! I will run away into the wild forest, and never come home again.”
And as she was so beautiful, the huntsman had pity on her and said, “Run away, then, you poor child.” “The wild beasts will soon have devoured you,” thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his heart since it was no longer needful for him to kill her.
But now, the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so terrified that she looked at every leaf of every tree, and did not know what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over sharp stones and through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past her, but did her no harm.
She ran as long as her feet would go, until it was almost evening. Then she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest herself. Everything in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than can be told. There was a table on which was a white cover, and seven little plates, and on each plate a little spoon. Moreover, there were seven little knives and forks, and seven little mugs. Against the wall stood seven little beds side by side, and covered with snow-white counterpanes.
Little Snow-White was so hungry and thirsty, that she ate some vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine out of each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only. Then, as she was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the little beds, but none of them suited her. One was too long, another too short, but at last she found that the seventh one was right, so she remained in it, said a prayer and went to sleep.
When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back. They were seven Dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for ore. They lit their seven candles, and, as it was now light within the cottage, they saw that some one had been there, for everything was not in the same order in which they had left it.
The first said, “Who has been sitting on my chair?”
The second, “Who has been eating off my plate?”
The third, “Who has been taking some of my bread?”
The fourth, “Who has been eating my vegetables?”
The fifth, “Who has been using my fork?”
The sixth, “Who has been cutting with my knife?”
The seventh, “Who has been drinking out of my mug?”
Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little hole on his bed, and he said, “Who has been getting into my bed?”
The others came up and each called out, “Somebody has been lying in my bed too.”
But the seventh when he looked at his bed saw little Snow-White, who was lying fast asleep therein. And he called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with astonishment, and brought their seven little candles and let the light fall on little Snow-White.
“Oh, oh!” cried they, “what a lovely child!” and they were so glad that they did not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the seventh Dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and so got through the night.
The next morning, little Snow-White awoke, and was frightened when she saw the seven Dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked her what her name was.
“My name is little Snow-White,” she answered.
“How have you come to our house?” said the Dwarfs.
Then she told them that the wicked Queen had wished to have her killed, but that the huntsman had spared her life, and that she had run for the whole day, until at last she had found their dwelling.
The Dwarfs said, “If you will take care of our house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and knit, and if you will keep everything neat and clean, you may stay with us and you shall want for nothing.”
“Yes,” said little Snow-White, “with all my heart,” and she stayed with them.
She kept the house in order for them. In the mornings they went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold, in the evenings they came back, and then their supper had to be ready.
The maiden was alone the whole day, so the good Dwarfs warned her and said, “Beware of the Queen, she will soon know that you are here. Be sure to let no one come in.”
But the Queen, believing that little Snow-White was dead, could not but think that she herself was again the first and most beautiful of all. She went to her Looking-Glass, and said:
“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall, Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”
and the Glass answered:
“_Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see, But over the hills, where the Seven Dwarfs dwell, Little Snow-White is alive and well, And none is so fair as she._”
Then she was astounded, for she knew that the Looking-Glass never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed her, for that little Snow-White was still alive.
And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her, for so long as she herself was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let her have no rest. And when she had at last thought of something to do, she painted her face, and dressed herself like an old pedler-woman, and no one could have known her.
In this disguise she went over the Seven Mountains to the Seven Dwarfs, and knocked at the door and cried, “Pretty things to sell, very cheap, very cheap!”
Little Snow-White looked out at the window, and called, “Good-day, my dear woman, what have you to sell?”
“Good things, pretty things,” she answered; “stay-laces of all colors,” and she pulled out one which was woven of bright-colored silk.
“I may let the worthy old woman in,” thought little Snow-White, and she unbolted the door and bought the pretty laces.
“Child,” said the old woman, “what a fright you look. Come, I will lace you properly for once.”
Little Snow-White had no suspicion, but stood before her, and let herself be laced with the new laces. But the old woman laced so quickly and laced so tightly that little Snow-White lost her breath and fell down as if dead.
“Now I am the most beautiful,” said the Queen to herself, and ran away.
Not long afterward, in the evening, the Seven Dwarfs came home. But how shocked they were when they saw their dear little Snow-White lying on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor moved, and seemed to be dead. They lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the laces. Than she began to breathe a little, and after a while came to life again.
When the Dwarfs heard what had happened, they said, “The old pedler-woman was no one else than the wicked Queen. Take care and let no one come in when we are not with you.”
But the wicked woman, when she had reached home, went in front of the Glass and asked:
“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall, Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”
and it answered as before:
“_Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see, But over the hills, where the Seven Dwarfs dwell, Little Snow-White is alive and well, And none is so fair as she._”
When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear, for she saw plainly that little Snow-White was again alive. “But now,” she said, “I will think of something that shall put an end to you,” and by the help of witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous comb.
Then she disguised herself, and took the shape of another old woman. So she went over the Seven Mountains to the Seven Dwarfs, knocked at the door, and cried, “Good things to sell, cheap, cheap!”
Little Snow-White looked out, and said, “Go away. I cannot let any one come in.”
“I suppose you may look,” said the old woman, and pulled the poisonous comb out and held it up.
It pleased the maiden so well that she let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they had made a bargain, the old woman said, “Now I will comb you properly for once.”
Poor little Snow-White had no suspicion, and let the Old Woman do as she pleased. But hardly had she put the comb in her hair, then the poison in it took effect, and the maiden fell down senseless.
“You paragon of beauty,” said the wicked woman, “you are done for now!” and she went away.
But fortunately it was almost evening, and the Seven Dwarfs came home. When they saw little Snow-White lying as if dead upon the ground, they at once suspected the Queen. They looked and found the poisoned comb. Scarcely had they taken it out, when little Snow-White came to herself, and told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more to be upon her guard, and to open the door to no one.
The Queen, at home, went in front of the Glass and said:
“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall, Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”
then it answered as before:
“_Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see, But over the hills, where the Seven Dwarfs dwell, Little Snow-White is alive and well, And none is so fair as she._”
When she heard the Glass speak thus, she trembled and shook with rage. “Little Snow-White shall die,” she cried, “even if it costs me my life!”
Thereupon she went into a secret, lonely room, where no one ever came, and there she made a very poisonous apple. Outside it looked pretty, white with a red cheek, so that every one who saw it longed for it. But whoever ate a piece of it must surely die.
When the apple was ready, she painted her face, and dressed herself as a countrywoman, and so she went over the Seven Mountains to the Seven Dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Little Snow-White put her head out of the window and said, “I cannot let any one in. The Seven Dwarfs have forbidden me.”
“It is all the same to me,” answered the woman, “I shall soon get rid of my apples. There, I will give you one.”
“No,” said little Snow-White, “I dare not take anything.”
“Are you afraid of poison?” said the old woman. “Look, I will cut the apple in two pieces. You eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white.”
The apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisoned. Little Snow-White longed for the fine apple, and when she saw that the woman ate part of it, she could resist no longer, and stretched out her hand and took the poisonous half. But hardly had she a bit of it in her mouth, than she fell down dead.
Then the Queen looked at her with a dreadful look, and laughed aloud, and said, “White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony-wood! This time the Dwarfs cannot wake you up again!”
And when she asked of the Looking-Glass at home:
“_Looking-Glass, Looking-Glass, on the wall, Who in this land is the fairest of all?_”
it answered at last:
“_Oh, Queen, in this land thou art fairest of all._”
Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can have rest.
The Dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found little Snow-White lying upon the ground. She breathed no longer and was dead. They lifted her up, looked to see whether they could find anything poisonous, unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but it was all of no use. The poor child was dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon a bier, and all seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept three days long.
Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she was living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said, “We could not bury her in the dark ground,” and they had a transparent coffin of glass made, so that she might be seen from all sides. They laid her in it, and wrote her name upon it in golden letters, and that she was a King’s Daughter.