When the man awoke and saw that he had slept, he was sad at heart, and said: “She has certainly driven by, and I have not set her free.” Then he perceived the things which were lying beside him, and read the letter wherein was written how everything had happened. So he arose and went away, intending to go to the golden castle of Stromberg, but he did not know where it was. After he had walked about the world for a long time, he entered into a dark forest, and walked for fourteen days, and still could not find his way out. Then it was once more evening, and he was so tired that he lay down in a thicket and fell asleep. Next day he went onwards, and in the evening, as he was again about to lie down beneath some bushes, he heard such a howling and crying that he could not go to sleep. And at the time when people light the candles, he saw one glimmering, and arose and went towards it. Then he came to a house which seemed very small, for in front of it a great giant was standing. He thought to himself: “If I go in, and the giant sees me, it will very likely cost me my life.”
At length he ventured it and went in. When the giant saw him, he said: “It is well that you come, for it is long since I have eaten; I will at once devour you for my supper.” “I’d rather you did not,” said the man, “I do not like to be eaten; but if you have any desire to eat, I have quite enough here to satisfy you.” “If that be true,” said the giant, “you may be easy, I was only going to devour you because I had nothing else.” Then they went, and sat down to the table, and the man took out the bread, wine, and meat which would never come to an end. “This pleases me well,” said the giant, and ate to his heart’s content. Then the man said to him: “Can you tell me where the golden castle of Stromberg is?” The giant said: “I will look at my map; all the towns, and villages, and houses are to be found on it.” He brought out the map which he had in the room and looked for the castle, but it was not to be found on it. “It’s no matter!” said he, “I have some still larger maps in my cupboard upstairs, and we will look at them.” But there, too, it was in vain. The man now wanted to set out again, but the giant begged him to wait a few days longer until his brother, who had gone out to bring some provisions, came home. When the brother came home they inquired about the golden castle of Stromberg. He replied: “When I have eaten and have had enough, I will look at the map.” Then he went with them up to his chamber, and they searched on his map, but could not find it. Then he brought out still older maps, and they never rested until they found the golden castle of Stromberg, but it was many thousand miles away. “How am I to get there?” asked the man. The giant said: “I have two hours’ time, during which I will carry you into the neighborhood, but after that I must be at home to suckle the child that we have.” So the giant carried the man to about a hundred leagues from the castle, and said: “You can very well walk the rest of the way alone.” And he turned back, but the man went onwards day and night, until at length he came to the golden castle of Stromberg. It stood on a glass-mountain, and the bewitched maiden was driving in her carriage round the castle, and then went inside it. He rejoiced when he saw her and wanted to climb up to her, but when he began to do so he always slipped down the glass again. And when he saw that he could not reach her, he was very worried, and said to himself: “I will stay down here below, and wait for her.” So he built himself a hut and stayed in it for a whole year, and every day saw the King’s daughter driving about above, but never could reach her.
Then one day he saw from his hut three robbers who were beating each other, and cried to them: “God be with you!” They stopped when they heard the cry, but as they saw no one, they once more began to beat each other, and that too most dangerously. So he again cried: “God be with you.” Again they stopped, looked round about, but as they saw no one they went on beating each other. Then he cried for the third time: “God be with you,” and thought: “I must see what these three are about,” and went thither and asked why they were beating each other so furiously. One of them said that he had found a stick, and that when he struck a door with it, that door would spring open. The next said that he had found a mantle, and that whenever he put it on, he was invisible, but the third said he had found a horse on which a man could ride everywhere, even up the glass-mountain. And now they did not know whether they ought to have these things in common, or whether they ought to divide them. Then the man said: “I will give you something in exchange for these three things. Money indeed have I not, but I have other things of more value; but first I must make an experiment to see if you have told the truth.” Then they put him on the horse, threw the mantle round him, and gave him the stick in his hand, and when he had all these things they were no longer able to see him. So he gave them some vigorous blows and cried: “Now, vagabonds, you have got what you deserve: are you satisfied?” And he rode up the glass-mountain, but when he came in front of the castle at the top, it was shut. Then he struck the door with his stick, and it sprang open immediately. He went in and ascended the stairs until he came to the hall where the maiden was sitting with a golden goblet of wine before her. She, however, could not see him because he had the mantle on. And when he came up to her, he drew from his finger the ring which she had given him, and threw it into the goblet so that it rang. Then she cried: “That is my ring, so the man who is to set me free must be here.” They searched the whole castle and did not find him, but he had gone out, and had seated himself on the horse and thrown off the mantle. When they came to the door, they saw him and cried aloud in their delight. Then he alighted and took the King’s daughter in his arms, but she kissed him and said: “Now have you set me free, and tomorrow we will celebrate our wedding.”
The Peasant’s Wise Daughter
THERE WAS once a poor peasant who had no land, but only a small house, and one daughter. Then said the daughter: “We ought to ask our lord the King for a bit of newly-cleared land.” When the King heard of their poverty, he presented them with a piece of land, which she and her father dug up, and intended to sow with a little corn and grain of that kind. When they had dug nearly the whole of the field, they found in the earth a mortar made of pure gold. “Listen,” said the father to the girl, “as our lord the King has been so gracious and presented us with the field, we ought to give him this mortar in return for it.” The daughter, however, would not consent to this, and said: “Father, if we have the mortar without having the pestle as well, we shall have to get the pestle, so you had much better say nothing about it.” But he would not obey her, and took the mortar and carried it to the King, said that he had found it in the cleared land, and asked if he would accept it as a present. The King took the mortar, and asked if he had found nothing besides that? “No,” answered the countryman. Then the King said that he must now bring him the pestle. The peasant said they had not found that, but he might just as well have spoken to the wind; he was put in prison, and was to stay there until he produced the pestle. The servants had daily to carry him bread and water, which is what people get in prison, and they heard how the man cried out continually: “Ah! if I had but listened to my daughter! Alas, alas, if I had but listened to my daughter!” Then the servants went to the King and told him how the prisoner was always crying: “Ah! if I had but listened to my daughter!” and would neither eat nor drink. So he commanded the servants to bring the prisoner before him, and then the King asked the peasant why he was always crying: “Ah! if I had but listened to my daughter!” and what it was that his daughter had said. “She told me that I ought not to take the mortar to you, for I should have to produce the pestle as well.” “If you have a daughter who is as wise as that, let her come here.” She was therefore obliged to appear before the King, who asked her if she really was so wise, and said he would set her a riddle, and if she could guess that, he would marry her. She at once said yes, she would guess it. Then said the King: “Come to me not clothed, not naked, not riding, not walking, not in the road, and not off the road, and if you can do that I will marry you.” So she went away, put off everything she had on, and then she was not clothed, and
took a great fishing net, and seated herself in it and wrapped it entirely round and round her, so that she was not naked, and she hired an ass, and tied the fisherman’s net to its tail, so that it was forced to drag her along, and that was neither riding nor walking. The ass had also to drag her in the ruts, so that she only touched the ground with her big toe, and that was neither being in the road nor off the road. And when she arrived in that fashion, the King said she had guessed the riddle and fulfilled all the conditions. Then he ordered her father to be released from the prison, took her to wife, and gave into her care all the royal possessions.
Now when some years had passed, the King was once reviewing his troops on parade, when it happened that some peasants who had been selling wood stopped with their waggons before the palace; some of them had oxen yoked to them, and some horses. There was one peasant who had three horses, one of which was delivered of a young foal, and it ran away and lay down between two oxen which were in front of the waggon. When the peasants came together, they began to dispute, to beat each other and make a disturbance, and the peasant with the oxen wanted to keep the foal, and said one of the oxen had given birth to it, and the other said his horse had had it, and that it was his. The quarrel came before the King, and he gave the verdict that the foal should stay where it had been found, and so the peasant with the oxen, to whom it did not belong, got it. Then the other went away, and wept and lamented over his foal. Now he had heard how gracious his lady the Queen was because she herself had sprung from poor peasant folks, so he went to her and begged her to see if she could not help him to get his foal back again. Said she: “Yes, I will tell you what to do, if you will promise me not to betray me. Early to-morrow morning, when the King parades the guard, place yourself there in the middle of the road by which he must pass, take a great fishing-net and pretend to be fishing; go on fishing, and empty out the net as if you had got it full”—and then she told him also what he was to say if he was questioned by the King. The next day, therefore, the peasant stood there, and fished on dry ground. When the King passed by, and saw that, he sent his messenger to ask what the stupid man was about. He answered: “I am fishing.” The messenger asked how he could fish when there was no water there. The peasant said: “It is as easy for me to fish on dry land as it is for an ox to have a foal.” The messenger went back and took the answer to the King, who ordered the peasant to be brought to him and told him that this was not his own idea, and he wanted to know whose it was. The peasant, said the King, must confess this at once. The peasant, however, would not do so, and said always, God forbid he should! the idea was his own. So they laid him on a heap of straw, and beat him and tormented him so long that at last he admitted that he had got the idea from the Queen.
When the King reached home again, he said to his wife: “Why have you behaved so falsely to me? I will not have you any longer for a wife; your time is up, go back to the place from whence you came—to your peasant’s hut.” One favor, however, he granted her; she might take with her the one thing that was dearest and best in her eyes; and thus was she dismissed. She said: “Yes, my dear husband, if you command this, I will do it,” and she embraced him and kissed him, and said she would take leave of him. Then she ordered a powerful sleeping draught to be brought, to drink farewell to him; the King took a long draught, but she took only a little. He soon fell into a deep sleep, and when she perceived that, she called a servant and took a fair white linen cloth and wrapped the King in it, and the servant was forced to carry him into a carriage that stood before the door, and she drove with him to her own little house. She laid him in her own little bed, and he slept one day and one night without awakening, and when he awoke he looked round and said: “Good God! where am I?” He called his attendants, but none of them were there. At length his wife came to his bedside and said: “My dear lord and King, you told me I might bring away with me from the palace that which was dearest and most precious in my eyes—I have nothing more precious and dear than yourself, so I have brought you with me.” Tears rose to the King’s eyes and he said: “Dear wife, you shall be mine and I will be yours,” and he took her back with him to the royal palace and was married again to her, and at the present time they are very likely still living.
Old Hildebrand
ONCE UPON a time lived a peasant and his wife, and the parson of the village had a fancy for the wife, and had wished for a long while to spend a whole day happily with her. The peasant woman, too, was quite willing. One day, therefore, he said to the woman: “Listen, my dear friend, I have now thought of a way by which we can for once spend a whole day happily together. I’ll tell you what; on Wednesday, you must take to your bed, and tell your husband you are ill, and as long as you complain and act being ill properly, and go on doing so until Sunday when I have to preach, I will then say in my sermon that whosoever has at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father, a sick mother, a sick brother or whosoever else it may be, and makes a pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where you can get a peck of laurel-leaves for a kreuzer, the sick child, the sick husband, the sick wife, the sick father, or sick mother, the sick sister, or whosoever else it may be, will be restored to health immediately.”
“I will manage it,” said the woman promptly. On the Wednesday, therefore, the peasant woman took to her bed, and complained and lamented as agreed on, and her husband did everything for her that he could think of, but nothing did her any good, and when Sunday came the woman said: “I feel as ill as if I were going to die at once, but there is one thing I should like to do before my end—I should like to hear the parson’s sermon that he is going to preach to-day.” On that the peasant said: “Ah, my child, do not do it—you might make yourself worse if you were to get up. Look, I will hear the sermon, and will attend to it very carefully, and will tell you everything the parson says.”
The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales Page 43
