Bab Bab 11 · Rapunzel

. Rapunzel

There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a

child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her

desire. These people had a little window at the back of their house

from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most

beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high

wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an

enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world. One

day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the

garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful

rampion (rapunzel), and it looked so fresh and green that she longed

for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased

every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite

pined away, and looked pale and miserable. Then her husband was

alarmed, and asked, “What aileth thee, dear wife?” “Ah,” she replied,

“if I can’t get some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our

house, to eat, I shall die.” The man, who loved her, thought, “Sooner

than let thy wife die, bring her some of the rampion thyself, let it

cost thee what it will.” In the twilight of the evening, he clambered

down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched

a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself

a salad of it, and ate it with much relish. She, however, liked it so

much—so very much, that the next day she longed for it three times as

much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more

descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let

himself down again; but when he had clambered down the wall he was

terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him. “How

canst thou dare,” said she with angry look, “to descend into my garden

and steal my rampion like a thief? Thou shalt suffer for it!” “Ah,”

answered he, “let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my

mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the

window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she

had not got some to eat.” Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be

softened, and said to him, “If the case be as thou sayest, I will allow

thee to take away with thee as much rampion as thou wilt, only I make

one condition, thou must give me the child which thy wife will bring

into the world; it shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a

mother.” The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the

woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the

child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child beneath the sun. When she

was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay

in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was

a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed

herself beneath it and cried,

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down thy hair to me.”

Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she

heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses,

wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the

hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.

After a year or two, it came to pass that the King’s son rode through

the forest and went by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so

charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in

her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The

King’s son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the

tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so

deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest

and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he

saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried,

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down thy hair.”

Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress

climbed up to her. “If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I will

for once try my fortune,” said he, and the next day when it began to

grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down thy hair.”

Immediately the hair fell down and the King’s son climbed up.

At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man such as her eyes

had never yet beheld, came to her; but the King’s son began to talk to

her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so

stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see

her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would

take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome,

she thought, “He will love me more than old Dame Gothel does;” and she

said yes, and laid her hand in his. She said, “I will willingly go away

with thee, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with thee a skein

of silk every time that thou comest, and I will weave a ladder with it,

and when that is ready I will descend, and thou wilt take me on thy

horse.” They agreed that until that time he should come to her every

evening, for the old woman came by day. The enchantress remarked

nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her, “Tell me, Dame

Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up

than the young King’s son—he is with me in a moment.” “Ah! thou wicked

child,” cried the enchantress “What do I hear thee say! I thought I had

separated thee from all the world, and yet thou hast deceived me.” In

her anger she clutched Rapunzel’s beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice

round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and

snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground.

And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where

she had to live in great grief and misery.

On the same day, however, that she cast out Rapunzel, the enchantress

in the evening fastened the braids of hair which she had cut off, to

the hook of the window, and when the King’s son came and cried,

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down thy hair,”

she let the hair down. The King’s son ascended, but he did not find his

dearest Rapunzel above, but the enchantress, who gazed at him with

wicked and venomous looks. “Aha!” she cried mockingly, “Thou wouldst

fetch thy dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the

nest; the cat has got it, and will scratch out thy eyes as well.

Rapunzel is lost to thee; thou wilt never see her more.” The King’s son

was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the

tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell,

pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate

nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep over

the loss of his dearest wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some

years, and at length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins

to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness.

He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards

it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and

wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and

he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he

was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy

and contented.