The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 4

by Isabella Fontaine

  “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 golden 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 golden 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, and 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 not have riches if I am not to know from whom they come, for 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, however, 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 they 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 can 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, and when they perceived the gold-children they 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, and 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 no more to be 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 thee with my whole heart, wilt thou be my wife?”

  He, too, pleased the maiden so much that she agreed and said, “Yes, I will be thy wife, and be true to thee my whole life long.” Then they were married, and just as they were in the greatest happiness, home came the father of the bride, and 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 hunt 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, and 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, but 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.

  “Wilt thou be silent, thou odious toad,” said he, “or I will shoot thee dead.”

  Then the witch cried out in a passion, “What! will you slay my little dog?” and immediately transformed him, so that he lay like a stone, and 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. “Good heavens!” said he, “my brother has met with some great misfortune! I must away to see if I can possibly rescue him.”

  Then the father said, “Stay here, if I lose you also, what shall I do?” But he answered, “I must and will go forth!”

  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, but he did not go near her, and said, “I will shoot you, if you will not bring my brother to life again.” She touched the stone, though very unwillingly, with her forefinger, and he was immediately restored to his human shape. But the two gold-children rejoiced when they saw each other again, kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together out of the forest, the one home to his bride, and 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.

  [ii] The Three Snake Leaves

  by the Brothers Grimm

  There was once on a time a poor man, who could no longer support his only son. Then said the son, “Dear father, things go so badly with us that I am a burden to you. I would rather go away and see how I can earn my bread.” So t
he father gave him his blessing, and with great sorrow took leave of him. At this time the King of a mighty empire was at war, and the youth took service with him, and with him went out to fight. And when he came before the enemy, there was a battle, and great danger, and it rained shot until his comrades fell on all sides, and when the leader also was killed, those left were about to take flight, but the youth stepped forth, spoke boldly to them, and cried, “We will not let our fatherland be ruined!” Then the others followed him, and he pressed on and conquered the enemy. When the King heard that he owed the victory to him alone, he raised him above all the others, gave him great treasures, and made him the first in the kingdom.

  The King had a daughter who was very beautiful, but she was also very strange. She had made a vow to take no one as her lord and husband who did not promise to let himself be buried alive with her if she died first. “If he loves me with all his heart,” said she, “of what use will life be to him afterwards?” On her side she would do the same, and if he died first, would go down to the grave with him. This strange oath had up to this time frightened away all wooers, but the youth became so charmed with her beauty that he cared for nothing, but asked her father for her.

  “But dost thou know what thou must promise?” said the King.

  “I must be buried with her,” he replied, “if I outlive her, but my love is so great that I do not mind the danger.” Then the King consented, and the wedding was solemnized with great splendor.

  They lived now for a while happy and contented with each other, and then it befell that the young Queen was attacked by a severe illness, and no physician could save her. And as she lay there dead, the young King remembered what he had been obliged to promise, and was horrified at having to lie down alive in the grave, but there was no escape. The King had placed sentries at all the gates, and it was not possible to avoid his fate. When the day came when the corpse was to be buried, he was taken down into the royal vault with it and then the door was shut and bolted.

  Near the coffin stood a table on which were four candles, four loaves of bread, and four bottles of wine, and when this provision came to an end, he would have to die of hunger. And now he sat there full of pain and grief, ate every day only a little piece of bread, drank only a mouthful of wine, and nevertheless saw death daily drawing nearer. Whilst he thus gazed before him, he saw a snake creep out of a corner of the vault and approach the dead body. And as he thought it came to gnaw at it, he drew his sword and said, “As long as I live, thou shalt not touch her,” and hewed the snake in three pieces.

  After a time a second snake crept out of the hole, and when it saw the other lying dead and cut in pieces, it went back, but soon came again with three green leaves in its mouth. Then it took the three pieces of the snake, laid them together, as they ought to go, and placed one of the leaves on each wound. Immediately the severed parts joined themselves together, the snake moved, and became alive again, and both of them hastened away together. The leaves were left lying on the ground, and a desire came into the mind of the unhappy man who had been watching all this, to know if the wondrous power of the leaves which had brought the snake to life again, could not likewise be of service to a human being. So he picked up the leaves and laid one of them on the mouth of his dead wife, and the two others on her eyes. And hardly had he done this than the blood stirred in her veins, rose into her pale face, and coloured it again. Then she drew breath, opened her eyes, and said, “Ah, God, where am I?”

  “Thou art with me, dear wife,” he answered, and told her how everything had happened, and how he had brought her back again to life. Then he gave her some wine and bread, and when she had regained her strength, he raised her up and they went to the door and knocked, and called so loudly that the sentries heard it, and told the King. The King came down himself and opened the door, and there he found both strong and well, and rejoiced with them that now all sorrow was over. The young King, however, took the three snake-leaves with him, gave them to a servant and said, “Keep them for me carefully, and carry them constantly about thee; who knows in what trouble they may yet be of service to us!”

  A change had, however, taken place in his wife; after she had been restored to life, it seemed as if all love for her husband had gone out of her heart. After some time, when he wanted to make a voyage over the sea, to visit his old father, and they had gone on board a ship, she forgot the great love and fidelity which he had shown her, and which had been the means of rescuing her from death, and conceived a wicked inclination for the skipper. And once when the young King lay there asleep, she called in the skipper and seized the sleeping young King by the head, and the skipper took him by the feet, and thus they threw him down into the sea.

  When the shameful deed was done, she said, “Now let us return home, and say that he died on the way. I will extol and praise thee so to my father that he will marry me to thee, and make thee the heir to his crown.” But the faithful servant who had seen all that they did, unseen by them, unfastened a little boat from the ship, got into it, sailed after his master, and let the traitors go on their way. He fished up the dead body, and by the help of the three snake-leaves which he carried about with him, and laid on the eyes and mouth, he fortunately brought the young King back to life.

  They both rowed with all their strength day and night, and their little boat flew so swiftly that they reached the old King before the others did. He was astonished when he saw them come alone, and asked what had happened to them. When he learnt the wickedness of his daughter he said, “I cannot believe that she has behaved so ill, but the truth will soon come to light,” and bade both go into a secret chamber and keep themselves hidden from every one.

  Soon afterwards the great ship came sailing in, and the godless woman appeared before her father with a troubled countenance. He said, “Why dost thou come back alone? Where is thy husband?”

  “Ah, dear father,” she replied, “I come home again in great grief; during the voyage, my husband became suddenly ill and died, and if the good skipper had not given me his help, it would have gone ill with me. He was present at his death, and can tell you all.”

  The King said, “I will make the dead alive again,” and opened the chamber, and bade the two come out. When the woman saw her husband, she was thunderstruck, and fell on her knees and begged for mercy. The King said, “There is no mercy. He was ready to die with thee and restored thee to life again, but thou hast murdered him in his sleep, and shalt receive the reward that thou deservest.” Then she was placed with her accomplice in a ship which had been pierced with holes, and sent out to sea, where they soon sank amid the waves.

  [iii] Girl without Hands

  by the Brothers Grimm

  A miller, who was so poor that he had nothing more than his mill and a large apple tree which stood behind it, went into the forest to gather wood. There he was approached by an old man, who said, “Why do you torment yourself so? I will make you rich if you will sign over to me that which is standing behind your mill. I will come and claim it in three years.”

  The miller thought, “That is my apple tree,” agreed, and signed it over to the man.

  When he came home, his wife said to him, “Miller, where did all the wealth come from that suddenly has filled every chest and cupboard in our house?”

  “I received it from an old man in the forest by signing over to him that which is standing behind the mill.”

  “Husband!” said the woman, terrified. “This is going to be very bad. The old man was the devil, and he had our daughter in mind, who was just then standing behind the mill sweeping the yard.”

  Now the miller's daughter was very beautiful and pious. Three years later when the devil came, early in the morning, and wanted to take her, she had drawn a circle around herself with chalk and had washed herself clean.

  Therefore the devil could not approach her, and angrily he said to the miller, “Keep wash water away from her, so she cannot wash herself any more, and I can have power over her.”<
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  The miller was frightened and did what he was told. The next day the devil returned, but she had wept into her hands and washed herself with her tears, and was entirely clean.

  Because the devil still could not approach her, he was very angry, and ordered the miller, “Chop off her hands, so I can get to her.”

  The miller was horrified and answered, “How could I chop off my dear child's hands? No, I will not do it.”

  “Then do you know what? I will take you, if you don't do it!”

  That frightened the miller terribly, and driven by fear he promised to do what the devil had ordered. He went to his daughter and said, “My child, the devil will take me if I don't chop off both your hands, and I have promised him that I will do it. I beg for your forgiveness.”

  “Father,” she said, “do with me what you will,” stretched forth her hands, and let him chop them off.

  The devil came a third time, but she had wept so long onto her stumps, that she was still entirely clean, and the devil had lost all power over her.

  The miller, because he had become so wealthy through her, promised to take the best care of her for the rest of her life, but she did not want to remain there.

  “I must leave here,” she said. “Compassionate people will give me enough to keep me alive.”

  She had the chopped-off hands tied to her back, and she set forth with the rising sun, walking the entire day until evening, when she came to the king's garden. There was a gap in the garden hedge. She went inside, found a fruit tree, shook it with her body until the apples fell to the ground, bent over and picked them up with her teeth, and ate them. Thus she lived for two days, but on the third day the garden watchmen saw her, captured her, and threw her into prison.