Grimms' Fairy Tales

by George Cruikshank

  And as he came near home, it was his youngest and dearest daughter that met him; she came running and kissed him, and welcomed him home; and when she saw that he had brought her the rose, she rejoiced still more. But her father began to be very melancholy, and to weep, saying, ‘Alas! my dearest child! I have bought this flower dear, for I have promised to give you to a wild lion, and when he has you, he will tear you in pieces, and eat you.’ And he told her all that had happened; and said she should not go, let what would happen.

  But she comforted him, and said, ‘Dear father, what you have promised must be fulfilled; I will go to the lion, and soothe him, that he may let me return again safe home.’

  The next morning she asked the way she was to go, and took leave of her father, and went forth with a bold heart into the wood. But the lion was an enchanted prince, and by day he and all his court were lions, but in the evening they took their proper forms again. And when the lady came to the castle, he welcomed her so courteously that she consented to marry him. The wedding-feast was held, and they lived happily together a long time. The prince was only to be seen as soon as evening came, and then he held his court; but every morning he left his bride, and went away by himself, she knew not whither, till night came again.

  After some time he said to her, ‘Tomorrow there will be a great feast in your father’s house, for your eldest sister is to be married; and, if you wish to go to visit her, my lions shall lead you thither.’ Then she rejoiced much at the thought of seeing her father once more, and set out with the lions; and every one was overjoyed to see her, for they had thought her dead long since. But she told them how happy she was; and stayed till the feast was over, and then went back to the wood.

  Her second sister was soon after married; and when she was invited to the wedding, she said to the prince, ‘I will not go alone this time; you must go with me.’ But he would not, and said that would be a very hazardous thing, for if the least ray of the torch light should fall upon him, his enchantment would become still worse, for he should be changed into a dove, and be obliged to wander about the world for seven long years. However, she gave him no rest, and said she would take care no light should fall upon him. So at last they set out together, and took with them their little child too; and she chose a large hall with thick walls, for him to sit in while the wedding torches were lighted; but unluckily no one observed that there was a crack in the door. Then the wedding was held with great pomp; but as the train came from the church, and passed with the torches before the hall, a very small ray of light fell upon the prince. In a moment he disappeared; and when his wife came in, and sought him, she found only a white dove. Then he said to her, ‘Seven years must I fly up and down over the face of the earth; but every now and then I will let fall a white feather, that shall show you the way I am going; follow it, and at last you may overtake and set me free.’

  This said, he flew out at the door, and she followed; and every now and then a white feather fell, and showed her the way she was to journey. Thus she went roving on through the wide world, and looked neither to the right hand nor to the left, nor took any rest for seven years. Then she began to rejoice, and thought to herself that the time was fast coming when all her troubles should cease; yet repose was still far off: for one day as she was travelling on, she missed the white feather, and when she lifted up her eyes she could no where see the dove. ‘Now,’ thought she to herself, ‘no human aid can be of use to me;’ so she went to the sun, and said, ‘Thou shinest every where, on the mountain’s top, and the valley’s depth; hast thou any where seen a white dove?’ ‘No,’ said the sun, ‘I have not seen it; but I will give thee a casket – open it when thy hour of need comes.’ So she thanked the sun, and went on her way till eventide; and when the moon arose, she cried unto it, and said, ‘Thou shinest through all the night, over field and grove: hast thou no where seen a white dove?’ ‘No,’ said the moon, ‘I cannot help thee; but I will give thee an egg – break it when need comes.’ Then she thanked the moon, and went on till the night-wind blew; and she raised up her voice to it, and said, ‘Thou blowest through every tree and under every leaf: hast thou not seen the white dove?’ ‘No,’ said the night-wind; ‘but I will ask three other winds; perhaps they have seen it.’ Then the east wind and the west wind came, and said they too had not seen it; but the south wind said, ‘I have seen the white dove; he has fled to the Red Sea, and is changed once more into a lion, for the seven years are passed away; and there he is fighting with a dragon, and the dragon is an enchanted princess, who seeks to separate him from you.’ Then the night-wind said, ‘I will give thee counsel: go to the Red Sea; on the right shore stand many rods; number them, and when thou comest to the eleventh, break it off and smite the dragon with it; so the lion will have the victory, and both of them will appear to you in their human forms. Then instantly set out with thy beloved prince, and journey home over sea and land.’

  So our poor wanderer went forth, and found all as the night-wind had said; and she plucked the eleventh rod, and smote the dragon, and immediately the lion became a prince and the dragon a princess again. But she forgot the counsel which the night-wind had given; and the false princess watched her opportunity, and took the prince by the arm, and carried him away.

  Thus the unfortunate traveller was again forsaken and forlorn; but she took courage and said, ‘As far as the wind blows, and so long as the cock crows, I will journey on till I find him once again.’ She went on for a long way, till at length she came to the castle whither the princess had carried the prince; and there was a feast prepared, and she heard that the wedding was about to be held. ‘Heaven aid me now!’ said she; and she took the casket that the sun had given her, and found that within it lay a dress as dazzling as the sun itself. So she put it on, and went into the palace; and all the people gazed upon her; and the dress pleased the bride so much that she asked whether it was to be sold: ‘Not for gold and silver,’ answered she; ‘but for flesh and blood.’ The princess asked what she meant; and she said, ‘Let me speak with the bridegroom this night in his chamber, and I will give thee the dress.’ At last the princess agreed; but she told her chamberlain to give the prince a sleeping-draught, that he might not hear or see her. When evening came, and the prince had fallen asleep, she was led into his chamber, and she sat herself down at his feet and said, ‘I have followed thee seven years; I have been to the sun, the moon, and the night-wind, to seek thee; and at last I have helped thee to overcome the dragon. Wilt thou then forget me quite?’ But the prince slept so soundly that her voice only passed over him, and seemed like the murmuring of the wind among the fir-trees.

  Then she was led away, and forced to give up the golden dress; and when she saw that there was no help for her, she went out into a meadow and sat herself down and wept. But as she sat she bethought herself of the egg that the moon had given her; and when she broke it, there ran out a hen and twelve chickens of pure gold, that played about, and then nestled under the old one’s wings, so as to form the most beautiful sight in the world. And she rose up, and drove them before her till the bride saw them from her window, and was so pleased that she came forth, and asked her if she would sell the brood. ‘Not for gold or silver; but for flesh and blood: let me again this evening speak with the bridegroom in his chamber.’

  Then the princess thought to betray her as before, and agreed to what she asked; but when the prince went to his chamber, he asked the chamberlain why the wind had murmured so in the night. And the chamberlain told him all; how he had given him a sleeping-draught, and a poor maiden had come and spoken to him in his chamber, and was to come again that night. Then the prince took care to throw away the sleeping-draught; and when she came and began again to tell him what woes had befallen her, and how faithful and true to him she had been, he knew his beloved wife’s voice, and sprang up, and said, ‘You have awakened me as from a dream; for the strange princess had thrown a spell around me, so that I had altogether forgotten you:
but heaven hath sent you to me in a lucky hour.’

  And they stole away out of the palace by night secretly (for they feared the princess), and journeyed home; and there they found their child, now grown comely and fair, and lived happily together to the end of their days.

  The Miser in the Bush

  A farmer had a faithful and diligent servant, who had worked hard for him three years, without having been paid any wages. At last it came into the man’s head that he would not go on thus without pay any longer; so he went to his master, and said, ‘I have worked hard for you a long time, I will trust to you to give me what I deserve to have for my trouble.’ The farmer was a sad miser, and knew that his man was very simple-hearted; so he took out threepence, and gave him for every year’s service a penny. The poor fellow thought it was a great deal of money to have, and said to himself, ‘Why should I work hard, and live here on bad fare any longer? I can now travel into the wide world, and make myself merry.’ With that he put his money into his purse, and set out, roaming over hill and valley.

  As he jogged along over the fields, singing and dancing, a little dwarf met him, and asked him what made him so merry. ‘Why, what should make me down-hearted?’ said he; ‘I am sound in health and rich in purse, what should I care for? I have saved up my three years’ earnings and have it all safe in my pocket.’ ‘How much may it come to?’ said the little man. ‘Full threepence,’ replied the countryman. ‘I wish you would give them to me,’ said the other; ‘I am very poor.’ Then the man pitied him, and gave him all he had; and the little dwarf said in return, ‘As you have such a kind honest heart, I will grant you three wishes – one for every penny; so choose whatever you like.’ Then the countryman rejoiced at his good luck, and said, ‘I like many things better than money: first, I will have a bow that will bring down every thing I shoot at; secondly, a fiddle that will set every one dancing that hears me play upon it; and thirdly, I should like that every one should grant what I ask.’ The dwarf said he should have his three wishes; so he gave him the bow and fiddle, and went his way.

  Our honest friend journeyed on his way too; and if he was merry before, he was now ten times more so. He had not gone far before he met an old miser: close by them stood a tree, and on the topmost twig sat a thrush singing away most joyful. ‘Oh, what a pretty bird!’ said the miser; ‘I would give a great deal of money to have such a one.’ ‘If that’s all,’ said the countryman, ‘I will soon bring it down.’ Then he took up his bow, and down fell the thrush into the bushes at the foot of the tree. The miser crept into the bush to find it; but directly he had got into the middle, his companion took up his fiddle and played away, and the miser began to dance and spring about, capering higher and higher in the air. The thorns soon began to tear his clothes till they hung in rags about him, and he himself was all scratched and wounded, so that the blood ran down. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ cried the miser, ‘master! master! pray let the fiddle alone. What have I done to deserve this?’ ‘Thou hast shaved many a poor soul close enough,’ said the other; ‘thou art only meeting thy reward:’ so he played up another tune. Then the miser began to beg and promise, and offered money for his liberty; but he did not come up to the musician’s price for some time, and he danced him along brisker and brisker, and the miser bid higher and higher, till at last he offered a round hundred of florins that he had in his purse, and had just gained by cheating some poor fellow. When the countryman saw so much money, he said, ‘I will agree to your proposal.’ So he took the purse, put up his fiddle, and travelled on very well pleased with his bargain.

  Meanwhile the miser crept out of the bush half-naked and in a piteous plight, and began to ponder how he should take his revenge, and serve his late companion some trick. At last he went to the judge, and complained that a rascal had robbed him of his money, and beaten him into the bargain; and that the fellow who did it carried a bow at his back and a fiddle hung round his neck. Then the judge sent out his officers to bring up the accused wherever they should find him; and he was soon caught and brought up to be tried.

  The miser began to tell his tale, and said he had been robbed of his money. ‘No, you gave it me for playing a tune to you,’ said the countryman; but the judge told him that was not likely, and cut the matter short by ordering him off to the gallows.

  So away he was taken; but as he stood on the steps he said, ‘My Lord Judge, grant me one last request.’ ‘Any thing but thy life,’ replied the other. ‘No,’ said he, ‘I do not ask my life; only to let me play upon my fiddle for the last time.’ The miser cried out, ‘Oh, no! no! for heaven’s sake don’t listen to him! don’t listen to him!’ But the judge said, ‘It is only this once, he will soon have done.’ The fact was, he could not refuse the request, on account of the dwarf’s third gift.

  Then the miser said, ‘Bind me fast, bind me fast, for pity’s sake.’ But the countryman seized his fiddle, and struck up a tune, and at the first note judge, clerks, and jailer were in motion; all began capering, and no one could hold the miser. At the second note the hangman let his prisoner go, and danced also, and by the time he had played the first bar of the tune, all were dancing together – judge, court, and miser, and all the people who had followed to look on. At first the thing was merry and pleasant enough; but when it had gone on a while, and there seemed to be no end of playing or dancing, they began to cry out, and beg him to leave off; but he stopped not a whit the more for their entreaties, till the judge not only gave him his life, but promised to return him the hundred florins.

  Then he called to the miser, and said, ‘Tell us now, you vagabond, where you got that gold, or I shall play on for your amusement only.’ ‘I stole it,’ said the miser in the presence of all the people; ‘I acknowledge that I stole it, and that you earned it fairly.’ Then the countryman stopped his fiddle, and left the miser to take his place at the gallows.

  The King of the Golden Mountain

  A certain merchant had two children, a son and daughter, both very young, and scarcely able to run alone. He had two richly laden ships then making a voyage upon the seas, in which he had embarked all his property, in the hope of making great gains, when the news came that they were lost. Thus from being a rich man he became very poor, so that nothing was left him but one small plot of land; and, to relieve his mind a little of his trouble, he often went out to walk there.

  One day, as he was roving along, a little rough-looking dwarf stood before him, and asked him why he was so sorrowful, and what it was that he took so deeply to heart. But the merchant replied, ‘If you could do me any good, I would tell you.’ ‘Who knows but I may?’ said the little man; ‘tell me what is the matter, and perhaps I can be of some service.’ Then the merchant told him how all his wealth was gone to the bottom of the sea, and how he had nothing left except that little plot of land. ‘Oh! trouble not yourself about that,’ said the dwarf; ‘only promise to bring me here, twelve years hence, whatever meets you first on your return home, and I will give you as much gold as you please.’ The merchant thought this was no great request; that it would most likely be his dog, or some thing of that sort, but forgot his little child: so he agreed to the bargain, and signed and sealed the engagement to do what was required. But as he drew near home, his little boy was so pleased to see him, that he crept behind him and laid fast hold of his legs. Then the father started with fear, and saw what it was that he had bound himself to do; but as no gold was come, he consoled himself by thinking that it was only a joke that the dwarf was playing him.

  About a month afterwards he went up stairs into an old lumber room to look for some old iron, that he might sell it and raise a little money; and there he saw a large pile of gold lying on the floor. At the sight of this he was greatly delighted, went into trade again, and became a greater merchant than before.

  Meantime his son grew up, and as the end of the twelve years drew near, the merchant became very anxious and thoughtful; so that care and sorrow were written upon his
face. The son one day asked what was the matter: but his father refused to tell for some time; at last however he said that he had, without knowing it, sold him to a little ugly-looking dwarf for a great quantity of gold; and that the twelve years were coming round when he must perform his agreement. Then the son said, ‘Father, give yourself very little trouble about that; depend upon it I shall be too much for the little man.’

  When the time came, they went out together to the appointed place; and the son drew a circle on the ground, and set himself and his father in the middle. The little dwarf soon came, and said to the merchant, ‘Have you brought me what you promised?’ The old man was silent, but his son answered, ‘What do you want here?’ The dwarf said, ‘I come to talk with your father, not with you.’ ‘You have deceived and betrayed my father,’ said the son; ‘give him up his bond.’ ‘No,’ replied the other, ‘I will not yield up my rights.’ Upon this a long dispute arose; and at last it was agreed that the son should be put into an open boat, that lay on the side of a piece of water hard by, and that the father should push him off with his own hand, so that he should be turned adrift. Then he took leave of his father, and set himself in the boat; and as it was pushed off it heaved, and fell on one side into the water: so the merchant thought that his son was lost, and went home very sorrowful.

  But the boat went safely on, and did not sink; and the young man sat securely within, till at length it ran ashore upon an unknown land. As he jumped upon the shore, he saw before him a beautiful castle, but empty and desolate within, for it was enchanted. At last, however, he found a white snake in one of the chambers.