บทที่ บทที่ 84 · The Goose-Girl

. 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

thou hast brought with thee 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 thy

mother knew, her heart would break.” 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,

drink as you can, 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 thy

mother knew this, her heart would break.” 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 thee” 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 any one 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 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 favour.” 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 good 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 tender mother knew,

Her heart would surely 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 tender mother knew,

Her heart would surely 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 flock, there is a sorry 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 tender mother knew,

Her heart would surely 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 flock 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 you

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 thou wilt not

tell me anything, tell thy 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

my mother did but know that, her heart would break.”

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 sometime 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 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 an one 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 thou,” said the aged King, “and thou hast pronounced

thine own sentence, and thus shall it be done unto thee.” 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.