The Goose-Girl
There was once upon a time an old queen whose husband had been dead
for many years, and she had a beautiful daughter. When the princess grew up she was
betrothed to a prince who lived at a great distance. When the time came for her to be
married, and she had to journey forth into the distant kingdom, the aged queen packed up
for her many costly vessels of silver and gold, and trinkets also of gold and silver, and
cups and jewels, in short, everything which appertained to a royal dowry, for she loved
her child with all her heart.
She likewise sent her maid-in-waiting, who was to ride with her, and
hand her over to the bridegroom, and each had a horse for the journey, but the horse of
the king's daughter was called Falada, and could speak. So when the hour of parting had
come, the aged mother went into her bedroom, took a small knife and cut her finger with it
until it bled. Then she held a white handkerchief to it into which she let three drops of
blood fall, gave it to her daughter and said, dear child, preserve this carefully, it will
be of service to you on your way.
So they took a sorrowful leave of each other, the princess put the
piece of cloth in her bosom, mounted her horse, and then went away to her bridegroom.
After she had ridden for a while she felt a burning thirst, and said to her waiting-maid,
dismount, and take my cup which you have brought with you for me, and get me some water
from the stream, for I should like to drink. If you are thirsty, said the waiting-maid,
get off your horse yourself, and lie down and drink out of the water, I don't choose to be
your servant.
So in her great thirst the princess alighted, bent down over the
water in the stream and drank, and was not allowed to drink out of the golden cup. Then
she said, ah, heaven, and the three drops of blood answered, if this your mother knew, her
heart would break in two. But the king's daughter was humble, said nothing, and mounted
her horse again.
She rode some miles further, but the day was warm, the sun scorched
her, and she was thirsty once more, and when they came to a stream of water, she again
cried to her waiting-maid, dismount, and give me some water in my golden cup, for she had
long ago forgotten the girl's ill words. But the waiting-maid said still more haughtily,
if you wish to drink, get it yourself, I don't choose to be your maid. Then in her great
thirst the king's daughter alighted, bent over the flowing stream, wept and said, ah,
heaven, and the drops of blood again replied, if this your mother knew, her heart would
break in two.
And as she was thus drinking and leaning right over the stream, the
handkerchief with the three drops of blood fell out of her bosom, and floated away with
the water without her observing it, so great was her trouble. The waiting-maid, however,
had seen it, and she rejoiced to think that she had now power over the bride, for since
the princess had lost the drops of blood, she had become weak and powerless.
So now when she wanted to mount her horse again, the one that was
called Falada, the waiting-maid said, Falada is more suitable for me, and my nag will do
for you, and the princess had to be content with that. Then the waiting-maid, with many
hard words, bade the princess exchange her royal apparel for her own shabby clothes, and
at length she was compelled to swear by the clear sky above her, that she would not say
one word of this to anyone at the royal court, and if she had not taken this oath she
would have been killed on the spot. But Falada saw all this, and observed it well.
The waiting-maid now mounted Falada, and the true bride the bad
horse, and thus they traveled onwards, until at length they entered the royal palace.
There were great rejoicings over her arrival, and the prince sprang forward to meet her,
lifted the waiting-maid from her horse, and thought she was his consort.
She was conducted upstairs, but the real princess was left standing
below. Then the old king looked out of the window and saw her standing in the courtyard,
and noticed how dainty and delicate and beautiful she was, and instantly went to the royal
apartment, and asked the bride about the girl she had with her who was standing down below
in the courtyard, and who she was. I picked her up on my way for a companion, give the
girl something to work at, that she may not stand idle.
But the old king had no work for her, and knew of none, so he said,
I have a little boy who tends the geese, she may help him. The boy was called Conrad, and
the true bride had to help him to tend the geese. Soon afterwards the false bride said to
the young king, dearest husband, I beg you to do me a favor. He answered, I will do so
most willingly. Then send for the knacker, and have the head of the horse on which I rode
here cut off, for it vexed me on the way. In reality, she was afraid that the horse might
tell how she had behaved to the king's daughter.
Then she succeeded in making the king promise that it should be
done, and the faithful Falada was to die, this came to the ears of the real princess, and
she secretly promised to pay the knacker a piece of gold if he would perform a small
service for her. There was a great dark-looking gateway in the town, through which morning
and evening she had to pass with the geese, would he be so goood as to nail up Falada's
head on it, so that she might see him again, more than once. The knacker's man promised to
do that, and cut off the head, and nailed it fast beneath the dark gateway.
Early in the morning, when she and Conrad drove out their flock
beneath this gateway, she said in passing, alas, Falada, hanging there.
Then the head answered, alas, young queen, how ill you fare. If this
your mother knew, her heart would break in two.
Then they went still further out of the town, and drove their geese
into the country. And when they had come to the meadow, she sat down and unbound her hair
which was like pure gold, and Conrad saw it and delighted in its brightness, and wanted to
pluck out a few hairs. Then she said, blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say, blow Conrad's
little hat away, and make him chase it here and there, until I have braided all my hair,
and bound it up again.
And there came such a violent wind that it blew Conrad's hat far
away across country, and he was forced to run after it. When he came back she had finished
combing her hair and was putting it up again, and he could not get any of it. Then Conrad
was angry, and would not speak to her, and thus they watched the geese until the evening,
and then they went home. Next day when they were driving the geese out through the dark
gateway, the maiden said, alas, Falada, hanging there.
Falada answered, alas, young queen, how ill you fare. If this your
mother knew, her heart would break in two.
And she sat down again in the field and began to comb out her hair,
and Conrad ran and tried to clutch it, so she said in haste, blow, blow, thou gentle wind,
I say, blow Conrad's little hat away, and make him chase it here and there, until I have
braided all my hair, and bound it up again.
Then the wind blew, and blew his little hat off his head and far
away, and Conrad was forced to run after it, and when he came back, her hair had been put
up a long time, and he could get none of it, and so they looked after their geese till
evening came.
But in the evening after they had got home, Conrad went to the old
king, and said, I won't tend the geese with that girl any longer. Why not, inquired the
aged king. Oh, because she vexes me the whole day long. Then the aged king commanded him
to relate what it was that she did to him. And Conrad said, in the morning when we pass
beneath the dark gateway with the block, there is a horse's head on the wall, and she says
to it, alas, Falada, hanging there.
And the head replies, alas, young queen how ill you fare. If this
your mother knew, her heart would break in two.
And Conrad went on to relate what happened on the goose pasture, and
how when there he had to chase his hat.
The aged king commanded him to drive his block out again next day,
and as soon as morning came, he placed himself behind the dark gateway, and heard how the
maiden spoke to the head of Falada, and then he too went into the country, and hid himself
in the thicket in the meadow. There he soon saw with his own eyes the goose-girl and the
goose-boy bringing their flock, and how after a while she sat down and unplaited her hair,
which shone with radiance. And soon she said, blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say, blow
Conrad's little hat away, and make him chase it here and there, until I have braided all
my hair, and bound it up again.
Then came a blast of wind and carried off Conrad's hat, so that he
had to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on combing and plaiting her hair, all
of which the king observed. Then, quite unseen, he went away, and when the goose-girl came
home in the evening, he called her aside, and asked why she did all these things. I may
not tell that, and I dare not lament my sorrows to any human being, for I have sworn not
to do so by the heaven which is above me, if I had not done that, I should have lost my
life.
He urged her and left her no peace, but he could draw nothing from
her. Then said he, if you will not tell me anything, tell your sorrows to the iron-stove
there, and he went away. Then she crept into the iron-stove, and began to weep and lament,
and emptied her whole heart, and said, here am I deserted by the whole world, and yet I am
a king's daughter, and a false waiting-maid has by force brought me to such a pass that I
have been compelled to put off my royal apparel, and she has taken my place with my
bridegroom, and I have to perform menial service as a goose-girl if this my mother knew,
her heart would break in two.
The aged king, however, was standing outside by the pipe of the
stove, and was listening to what she said, and heard it. Then he came back again, and bade
her come out of the stove. And royal garments were placed on her, and it was marvellous
how beautiful she was. The aged king summoned his son, and revealed to him that he had got
the false bride who was only a waiting-maid, but that the true one was standing there, as
the former goose-girl. The young king rejoiced with all his heart when he saw her beauty
and youth, and a great feast was made ready to which all the people and all good friends
were invited.
At the head of the table sat the bridegroom with the king's daughter
at one side of him, and the waiting-maid on the other, but the waiting-maid was blinded,
and did not recognize the princess in her dazzling array. When they had eaten and drunk,
and were merry, the aged king asked the waiting-maid as a riddle, what punishment a person
deserved who had behaved in such and such a way to her master, and at the same time
related the whole story, and asked what sentence such a person merited. Then the false
bride said, she deserves no better fate than to be stripped entirely naked, and put in a
barrel which is studded inside with pointed nails, and two white horses should be
harnessed to it, which will drag her along through one street after another, till she is
dead.
It is you, said the aged king, and you have pronounced your own
sentence, and thus shall it be done unto you. And when the sentence had been carried out,
the young king married his true bride, and both of them reigned over their kingdom in
peace and happiness.
--The
End-- |
