บทที่ บทที่ 3 · The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was

. The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was

A certain father had two sons, the elder of whom was smart and

sensible, and could do everything, but the younger was stupid and could

neither learn nor understand anything, and when people saw him they

said, “There’s a fellow who will give his father some trouble!” When

anything had to be done, it was always the elder who was forced to do

it; but if his father bade him fetch anything when it was late, or in

the night-time, and the way led through the churchyard, or any other

dismal place, he answered “Oh, no, father, I’ll not go there, it makes

me shudder!” for he was afraid. Or when stories were told by the fire

at night which made the flesh creep, the listeners sometimes said “Oh,

it makes us shudder!” The younger sat in a corner and listened with the

rest of them, and could not imagine what they could mean. “They are

always saying ‘it makes me shudder, it makes me shudder!’ It does not

make me shudder,” thought he. “That, too, must be an art of which I

understand nothing.”

Now it came to pass that his father said to him one day “Hearken to me,

thou fellow in the corner there, thou art growing tall and strong, and

thou too must learn something by which thou canst earn thy living. Look

how thy brother works, but thou dost not even earn thy salt.” “Well,

father,” he replied, “I am quite willing to learn something—indeed, if

it could but be managed, I should like to learn how to shudder. I don’t

understand that at all yet.” The elder brother smiled when he heard

that, and thought to himself, “Good God, what a blockhead that brother

of mine is! He will never be good for anything as long as he lives. He

who wants to be a sickle must bend himself betimes.”

The father sighed, and answered him “thou shalt soon learn what it is

to shudder, but thou wilt not earn thy bread by that.”

Soon after this the sexton came to the house on a visit, and the father

bewailed his trouble, and told him how his younger son was so backward

in every respect that he knew nothing and learnt nothing. “Just think,”

said he, “when I asked him how he was going to earn his bread, he

actually wanted to learn to shudder.” “If that be all,” replied the

sexton, “he can learn that with me. Send him to me, and I will soon

polish him.” The father was glad to do it, for he thought, “It will

train the boy a little.” The sexton therefore took him into his house,

and he had to ring the bell. After a day or two, the sexton awoke him

at midnight, and bade him arise and go up into the church tower and

ring the bell. “Thou shalt soon learn what shuddering is,” thought he,

and secretly went there before him; and when the boy was at the top of

the tower and turned round, and was just going to take hold of the bell

rope, he saw a white figure standing on the stairs opposite the

sounding hole. “Who is there?” cried he, but the figure made no reply,

and did not move or stir. “Give an answer,” cried the boy, “or take thy

self off, thou hast no business here at night.”

The sexton, however, remained standing motionless that the boy might

think he was a ghost. The boy cried a second time, “What do you want

here?—speak if thou art an honest fellow, or I will throw thee down the

steps!” The sexton thought, “he can’t intend to be as bad as his

words,” uttered no sound and stood as if he were made of stone. Then

the boy called to him for the third time, and as that was also to no

purpose, he ran against him and pushed the ghost down the stairs, so

that it fell down ten steps and remained lying there in a corner.

Thereupon he rang the bell, went home, and without saying a word went

to bed, and fell asleep. The sexton’s wife waited a long time for her

husband, but he did not come back. At length she became uneasy, and

wakened the boy, and asked, “Dost thou not know where my husband is? He

climbed up the tower before thou didst.” “No, I don’t know,” replied

the boy, “but some one was standing by the sounding hole on the other

side of the steps, and as he would neither give an answer nor go away,

I took him for a scoundrel, and threw him downstairs, just go there and

you will see if it was he. I should be sorry if it were.” The woman ran

away and found her husband, who was lying moaning in the corner, and

had broken his leg.

She carried him down, and then with loud screams she hastened to the

boy’s father. “Your boy,” cried she, “has been the cause of a great

misfortune! He has thrown my husband down the steps and made him break

his leg. Take the good-for-nothing fellow away from our house.” The

father was terrified, and ran thither and scolded the boy. “What wicked

tricks are these?” said he, “the devil must have put this into thy

head.” “Father,” he replied, “do listen to me. I am quite innocent. He

was standing there by night like one who is intending to do some evil.

I did not know who it was, and I entreated him three times either to

speak or to go away.” “Ah,” said the father, “I have nothing but

unhappiness with you. Go out of my sight. I will see thee no more.”

“Yes, father, right willingly, wait only until it is day. Then will I

go forth and learn how to shudder, and then I shall, at any rate,

understand one art which will support me.” “Learn what thou wilt,”

spake the father, “it is all the same to me. Here are fifty thalers for

thee. Take these and go into the wide world, and tell no one from

whence thou comest, and who is thy father, for I have reason to be

ashamed of thee.” “Yes, father, it shall be as you will. If you desire

nothing more than that, I can easily keep it in mind.”

When day dawned, therefore, the boy put his fifty thalers into his

pocket, and went forth on the great highway, and continually said to

himself, “If I could but shudder! If I could but shudder!” Then a man

approached who heard this conversation which the youth was holding with

himself, and when they had walked a little farther to where they could

see the gallows, the man said to him, “Look, there is the tree where

seven men have married the ropemaker’s daughter, and are now learning

how to fly. Sit down below it, and wait till night comes, and you will

soon learn how to shudder.” “If that is all that is wanted,” answered

the youth, “it is easily done; but if I learn how to shudder as fast as

that, thou shalt have my fifty thalers. Just come back to me early in

the morning.” Then the youth went to the gallows, sat down below it,

and waited till evening came. And as he was cold, he lighted himself a

fire, but at midnight the wind blew so sharply that in spite of his

fire, he could not get warm. And as the wind knocked the hanged men

against each other, and they moved backwards and forwards, he thought

to himself “Thou shiverest below by the fire, but how those up above

must freeze and suffer!” And as he felt pity for them, he raised the

ladder, and climbed up, unbound one of them after the other, and

brought down all seven. Then he stirred the fire, blew it, and set them

all round it to warm themselves. But they sat there and did not stir,

and the fire caught their clothes. So he said, “Take care, or I will

hang you up again.” The dead men, however, did not hear, but were quite

silent, and let their rags go on burning. On this he grew angry, and

said, “If you will not take care, I cannot help you, I will not be

burnt with you,” and he hung them up again each in his turn. Then he

sat down by his fire and fell asleep, and the next morning the man came

to him and wanted to have the fifty thalers, and said, “Well, dost thou

know how to shudder?” “No,” answered he, “how was I to get to know?

Those fellows up there did not open their mouths, and were so stupid

that they let the few old rags which they had on their bodies get

burnt.” Then the man saw that he would not get the fifty thalers that

day, and went away saying, “One of this kind has never come my way

before.”

The youth likewise went his way, and once more began to mutter to

himself, “Ah, if I could but shudder! Ah, if I could but shudder!” A

waggoner who was striding behind him heard that and asked, “Who are

you?” “I don’t know,” answered the youth. Then the waggoner asked,

“From whence comest thou?” “I know not.” “Who is thy father?” “That I

may not tell thee.” “What is it that thou art always muttering between

thy teeth.” “Ah,” replied the youth, “I do so wish I could shudder, but

no one can teach me how to do it.” “Give up thy foolish chatter,” said

the waggoner. “Come, go with me, I will see about a place for thee.”

The youth went with the waggoner, and in the evening they arrived at an

inn where they wished to pass the night. Then at the entrance of the

room the youth again said quite loudly, “If I could but shudder! If I

could but shudder!” The host who heard this, laughed and said, “If that

is your desire, there ought to be a good opportunity for you here.”

“Ah, be silent,” said the hostess, “so many inquisitive persons have

already lost their lives, it would be a pity and a shame if such

beautiful eyes as these should never see the daylight again.”

But the youth said, “However difficult it may be, I will learn it and

for this purpose indeed have I journeyed forth.” He let the host have

no rest, until the latter told him, that not far from thence stood a

haunted castle where any one could very easily learn what shuddering

was, if he would but watch in it for three nights. The King had

promised that he who would venture should have his daughter to wife,

and she was the most beautiful maiden the sun shone on. Great treasures

likewise lay in the castle, which were guarded by evil spirits, and

these treasures would then be freed, and would make a poor man rich

enough. Already many men had gone into the castle, but as yet none had

come out again. Then the youth went next morning to the King and said

if he were allowed he would watch three nights in the haunted castle.

The King looked at him, and as the youth pleased him, he said, “Thou

mayest ask for three things to take into the castle with thee, but they

must be things without life.” Then he answered, “Then I ask for a fire,

a turning lathe, and a cutting-board with the knife.” The King had

these things carried into the castle for him during the day. When night

was drawing near, the youth went up and made himself a bright fire in

one of the rooms, placed the cutting-board and knife beside it, and

seated himself by the turning-lathe. “Ah, if I could but shudder!” said

he, “but I shall not learn it here either.” Towards midnight he was

about to poke his fire, and as he was blowing it, something cried

suddenly from one corner, “Au, miau! how cold we are!” “You

simpletons!” cried he, “what are you crying about? If you are cold,

come and take a seat by the fire and warm yourselves.” And when he had

said that, two great black cats came with one tremendous leap and sat

down on each side of him, and looked savagely at him with their fiery

eyes. After a short time, when they had warmed themselves, they said,

“Comrade, shall we have a game at cards?” “Why not?” he replied, “but

just show me your paws.” Then they stretched out their claws. “Oh,”

said he, “what long nails you have! Wait, I must first cut them for

you.” Thereupon he seized them by the throats, put them on the

cutting-board and screwed their feet fast. “I have looked at your

fingers,” said he, “and my fancy for card-playing has gone,” and he

struck them dead and threw them out into the water. But when he had

made away with these two, and was about to sit down again by his fire,

out from every hole and corner came black cats and black dogs with

red-hot chains, and more and more of them came until he could no longer

stir, and they yelled horribly, and got on his fire, pulled it to

pieces, and tried to put it out. He watched them for a while quietly,

but at last when they were going too far, he seized his cutting-knife,

and cried, “Away with ye, vermin,” and began to cut them down. Part of

them ran away, the others he killed, and threw out into the fish-pond.

When he came back he fanned the embers of his fire again and warmed

himself. And as he thus sat, his eyes would keep open no longer, and he

felt a desire to sleep. Then he looked round and saw a great bed in the

corner. “That is the very thing for me,” said he, and got into it. When

he was just going to shut his eyes, however, the bed began to move of

its own accord, and went over the whole of the castle. “That’s right,”

said he, “but go faster.” Then the bed rolled on as if six horses were

harnessed to it, up and down, over thresholds and steps, but suddenly

hop, hop, it turned over upside down, and lay on him like a mountain.

But he threw quilts and pillows up in the air, got out and said, “Now

any one who likes, may drive,” and lay down by his fire, and slept till

it was day. In the morning the King came, and when he saw him lying

there on the ground, he thought the evil spirits had killed him and he

was dead. Then said he, “After all it is a pity,—he is a handsome man.”

The youth heard it, got up, and said, “It has not come to that yet.”

Then the King was astonished, but very glad, and asked how he had

fared. “Very well indeed,” answered he; “one night is past, the two

others will get over likewise.” Then he went to the innkeeper, who

opened his eyes very wide, and said, “I never expected to see thee

alive again! Hast thou learnt how to shudder yet?” “No,” said he, “it

is all in vain. If some one would but tell me.”

The second night he again went up into the old castle, sat down by the

fire, and once more began his old song, “If I could but shudder.” When

midnight came, an uproar and noise of tumbling about was heard; at

first it was low, but it grew louder and louder. Then it was quiet for

awhile, and at length with a loud scream, half a man came down the

chimney and fell before him. “Hollo!” cried he, “another half belongs

to this. This is too little!” Then the uproar began again, there was a

roaring and howling, and the other half fell down likewise. “Wait,”

said he, “I will just blow up the fire a little for thee.” When he had

done that and looked round again, the two pieces were joined together,

and a frightful man was sitting in his place. “That is no part of our

bargain,” said the youth, “the bench is mine.” The man wanted to push

him away; the youth, however, would not allow that, but thrust him off

with all his strength, and seated himself again in his own place. Then

still more men fell down, one after the other; they brought nine dead

men’s legs and two skulls, and set them up and played at nine-pins with

them. The youth also wanted to play and said “Hark you, can I join

you?” “Yes, if thou hast any money.” “Money enough,” replied he, “but

your balls are not quite round.” Then he took the skulls and put them

in the lathe and turned them till they were round. “There, now, they

will roll better!” said he. “Hurrah! Now it goes merrily!” He played

with them and lost some of his money, but when it struck twelve,

everything vanished from his sight. He lay down and quietly fell

asleep. Next morning the King came to inquire after him. “How has it

fared with you this time?” asked he. “I have been playing at

nine-pins,” he answered, “and have lost a couple of farthings.” “Hast

thou not shuddered then?” “Eh, what?” said he, “I have made merry. If I

did but know what it was to shudder!”

The third night he sat down again on his bench and said quite sadly,

“If I could but shudder.” When it grew late, six tall men came in and

brought a coffin. Then said he, “Ha, ha, that is certainly my little

cousin, who died only a few days ago,” and he beckoned with his finger,

and cried “Come, little cousin, come.” They placed the coffin on the

ground, but he went to it and took the lid off, and a dead man lay

therein. He felt his face, but it was cold as ice. “Stop,” said he, “I

will warm thee a little,” and went to the fire and warmed his hand and

laid it on the dead man’s face, but he remained cold. Then he took him

out, and sat down by the fire and laid him on his breast and rubbed his

arms that the blood might circulate again. As this also did no good, he

thought to himself “When two people lie in bed together, they warm each

other,” and carried him to the bed, covered him over and lay down by

him. After a short time the dead man became warm too, and began to

move. Then said the youth, “See, little cousin, have I not warmed

thee?” The dead man, however, got up and cried, “Now will I strangle

thee.”

“What!” said he, “is that the way thou thankest me? Thou shalt at once

go into thy coffin again,” and he took him up, threw him into it, and

shut the lid. Then came the six men and carried him away again. “I

cannot manage to shudder,” said he. “I shall never learn it here as

long as I live.”

Then a man entered who was taller than all others, and looked terrible.

He was old, however, and had a long white beard. “Thou wretch,” cried

he, “thou shalt soon learn what it is to shudder, for thou shalt die.”

“Not so fast,” replied the youth. “If I am to die, I shall have to have

a say in it.” “I will soon seize thee,” said the fiend. “Softly,

softly, do not talk so big. I am as strong as thou art, and perhaps

even stronger.” “We shall see,” said the old man. “If thou art

stronger, I will let thee go—come, we will try.” Then he led him by

dark passages to a smith’s forge, took an axe, and with one blow struck

an anvil into the ground. “I can do better than that,” said the youth,

and went to the other anvil. The old man placed himself near and wanted

to look on, and his white beard hung down. Then the youth seized the

axe, split the anvil with one blow, and struck the old man’s beard in

with it. “Now I have thee,” said the youth. “Now it is thou who will

have to die.” Then he seized an iron bar and beat the old man till he

moaned and entreated him to stop, and he would give him great riches.

The youth drew out the axe and let him go. The old man led him back

into the castle, and in a cellar showed him three chests full of gold.

“Of these,” said he, “one part is for the poor, the other for the king,

the third is thine.” In the meantime it struck twelve, and the spirit

disappeared; the youth, therefore, was left in darkness. “I shall still

be able to find my way out,” said he, and felt about, found the way

into the room, and slept there by his fire. Next morning the King came

and said “Now thou must have learnt what shuddering is?” “No,” he

answered; “what can it be? My dead cousin was here, and a bearded man

came and showed me a great deal of money down below, but no one told me

what it was to shudder.” “Then,” said the King, “thou hast delivered

the castle, and shalt marry my daughter.” “That is all very well,” said

he, “but still I do not know what it is to shudder.”

Then the gold was brought up and the wedding celebrated; but howsoever

much the young king loved his wife, and however happy he was, he still

said always “If I could but shudder—if I could but shudder.” And at

last she was angry at this. Her waiting-maid said, “I will find a cure

for him; he shall soon learn what it is to shudder.” She went out to

the stream which flowed through the garden, and had a whole bucketful

of gudgeons brought to her. At night when the young king was sleeping,

his wife was to draw the clothes off him and empty the bucketful of

cold water with the gudgeons in it over him, so that the little fishes

would sprawl about him. When this was done, he woke up and cried “Oh,

what makes me shudder so?—what makes me shudder so, dear wife? Ah! now

I know what it is to shudder!”