Chương Chương 5 · Ashenputtel

Ashenputtel

The wife of a rich man fell ill, and when she felt that she was

nearing her end, she called her only daughter to her bedside, and

said:

'Dear child, continue devout and good, then God will always help you,

and I will look down upon you from heaven, and watch over you.'

Thereupon she closed her eyes, and breathed her last.

The maiden went to her mother's grave every day and wept, and she

continued to be devout and good. When the winter came, the snow spread

a white covering on the grave, and when the sun of spring had unveiled

it again, the husband took another wife. The new wife brought home

with her two daughters, who were fair and beautiful to look upon, but

base and black at heart.

Then began a sad time for the unfortunate step-child.

'Is this stupid goose to sit with us in the parlour?' they said.

'Whoever wants to eat bread must earn it; go and sit with the

kitchenmaid.'

They took away her pretty clothes, and made her put on an old grey

frock, and gave her wooden clogs.

'Just look at the proud Princess, how well she's dressed,' they

laughed, as they led her to the kitchen. There, the girl was obliged

to do hard work from morning till night, to get up at daybreak, carry

water, light the fire, cook, and wash. Not content with that, the

sisters inflicted on her every vexation they could think of; they made

fun of her, and tossed the peas and lentils among the ashes, so that

she had to sit down and pick them out again. In the evening, when she

was worn out with work, she had no bed to go to, but had to lie on the

hearth among the cinders. And because, on account of that, she always

looked dusty and dirty, they called her Ashenputtel.

It happened one day that the Father had a mind to go to the Fair. So

he asked both his step-daughters what he should bring home for them.

'Fine clothes,' said one.

'Pearls and jewels,' said the other.

'But you, Ashenputtel?' said he, 'what will you have?'

'Father, break off for me the first twig which brushes against your

hat on your way home.'

Well, for his two step-daughters he brought beautiful clothes, pearls

and jewels, and on his way home, as he was riding through a green

copse, a hazel twig grazed against him and knocked his hat off. Then

he broke off the branch and took it with him.

When he got home he gave his step-daughters what they had asked for,

and to Ashenputtel he gave the twig from the hazel bush.

Ashenputtel thanked him, and went to her mother's grave and planted

the twig upon it; she wept so much that her tears fell and watered it.

And it took root and became a fine tree.

Ashenputtel went to the grave three times every day, wept and prayed,

and every time a little white bird came and perched upon the tree, and

when she uttered a wish, the little bird threw down to her what she

had wished for.

Now it happened that the King proclaimed a festival, which was to last

three days, and to which all the beautiful maidens in the country were

invited, in order that his son might choose a bride.

When the two step-daughters heard that they were also to be present,

they were in high spirits, called Ashenputtel, and said:

'Brush our hair and clean our shoes, and fasten our buckles, for we

are going to the feast at the King's palace.'

Ashenputtel obeyed, but wept, for she also would gladly have gone to

the ball with them, and begged her Step-mother to give her leave to

go.

'You, Ashenputtel!' she said. 'Why, you are covered with dust and

dirt. You go to the festival! Besides you have no clothes or shoes,

and yet you want to go to the ball.'

As she, however, went on asking, her Step-mother said:

'Well, I have thrown a dishful of lentils into the cinders, if you

have picked them all out in two hours you shall go with us.'

The girl went through the back door into the garden, and cried, 'Ye

gentle doves, ye turtle doves, and all ye little birds under heaven,

come and help me,

'The good into a dish to throw,

The bad into your crops can go.'

Then two white doves came in by the kitchen window, and were followed

by the turtle doves, and finally all the little birds under heaven

flocked in, chirping, and settled down among the ashes. And the doves

gave a nod with their little heads, peck, peck, peck; and then the

rest began also, peck, peck, peck, and collected all the good beans

into the dish. Scarcely had an hour passed before they had finished,

and all flown out again.

Then the girl brought the dish to her Step-mother, and was delighted

to think that now she would be able to go to the feast with them.

But she said, 'No, Ashenputtel, you have no clothes, and cannot dance;

you will only be laughed at.'

But when she began to cry, the Step-mother said:

'If you can pick out two whole dishes of lentils from the ashes in an

hour, you shall go with us.'

And she thought, 'She will never be able to do that.'

[Illustration: {Ashenputtel goes to the ball.}]

When her Step-mother had thrown the dishes of lentils among the

ashes, the girl went out through the back door, and cried, 'Ye gentle

doves, ye turtle doves, and all ye little birds under heaven, come and

help me,

'The good into a dish to throw,

The bad into your crops can go.'

Then two white doves came in by the kitchen window, and were followed

by the turtle doves, and all the other little birds under heaven, and

in less than an hour the whole had been picked up, and they had all

flown away.

Then the girl carried the dish to her Step-mother, and was delighted

to think that she would now be able to go to the ball.

But she said, 'It's not a bit of good. You can't go with us, for

you've got no clothes, and you can't dance. We should be quite ashamed

of you.'

Thereupon she turned her back upon her, and hurried off with her two

proud daughters.

As soon as every one had left the house, Ashenputtel went out to her

mother's grave under the hazel-tree, and cried:

'Shiver and shake, dear little tree,

Gold and silver shower on me.'

Then the bird threw down to her a gold and silver robe, and a pair of

slippers embroidered with silk and silver. With all speed she put on

the robe and went to the feast. But her step-sisters and their mother

did not recognise her, and supposed that she was some foreign

Princess, so beautiful did she appear in her golden dress. They never

gave a thought to Ashenputtel, but imagined that she was sitting at

home in the dirt picking the lentils out of the cinders.

The Prince came up to the stranger, took her by the hand, and danced

with her. In fact, he would not dance with any one else, and never

left go of her hand. If any one came up to ask her to dance, he said,

'This is my partner.'

She danced until nightfall, and then wanted to go home; but the Prince

said, 'I will go with you and escort you.'

For he wanted to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged. But she

slipped out of his way and sprang into the pigeon-house.

Then the Prince waited till her Father came, and told him that the

unknown maiden had vanished into the pigeon-house.

The old man thought, 'Could it be Ashenputtel?' And he had an axe

brought to him, so that he might break down the pigeon-house, but

there was no one inside.

When they went home, there lay Ashenputtel in her dirty clothes among

the cinders, and a dismal oil lamp was burning in the chimney corner.

For Ashenputtel had quietly jumped down out of the pigeon-house and

ran back to the hazel-tree. There she had taken off her beautiful

clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken them away

again. Then she had settled herself among the ashes on the hearth in

her old grey frock.

On the second day, when the festival was renewed, and her parents and

step-sisters had started forth again, Ashenputtel went to the

hazel-tree, and said:

'Shiver and shake, dear little tree,

Gold and silver shower on me.'

Then the bird threw down a still more gorgeous robe than on the

previous day. And when she appeared at the festival in this robe,

every one was astounded by her beauty.

The King's son had waited till she came, and at once took her hand,

and she danced with no one but him. When others came forward and

invited her to dance, he said, 'This is my partner.'

At nightfall she wished to leave; but the Prince went after her,

hoping to see into what house she went, but she sprang out into the

garden behind the house. There stood a fine big tree on which the most

delicious pears hung. She climbed up among the branches as nimbly as a

squirrel, and the Prince could not make out what had become of her.

But he waited till her Father came, and then said to him, 'The

unknown maiden has slipped away from me, and I think that she has

jumped into the pear-tree.'

The Father thought, 'Can it be Ashenputtel?' And he had the axe

brought to cut down the tree, but there was no one on it. When they

went home and looked into the kitchen, there lay Ashenputtel among the

cinders as usual; for she had jumped down on the other side of the

tree, taken back the beautiful clothes to the bird on the hazel-tree,

and put on her old grey frock.

On the third day, when her parents and sisters had started,

Ashenputtel went again to her mother's grave, and said:

'Shiver and shake, dear little tree,

Gold and silver shower on me.'

Then the bird threw down a dress which was so magnificent that no one

had ever seen the like before, and the slippers were entirely of gold.

When she appeared at the festival in this attire, they were all

speechless with astonishment. The Prince danced only with her, and if

any one else asked her to dance, he said, 'This is my partner.'

When night fell and she wanted to leave, the Prince was more desirous

than ever to accompany her, but she darted away from him so quickly

that he could not keep up with her. But the Prince had used a

stratagem, and had caused the steps to be covered with cobbler's wax.

The consequence was, that as the maiden sprang down them, her left

slipper remained sticking there. The Prince took it up. It was small

and dainty, and entirely made of gold.

The next morning he went with it to Ashenputtel's Father, and said to

him, 'No other shall become my wife but she whose foot this golden

slipper fits.'

The two sisters were delighted at that, for they both had beautiful

feet. The eldest went into the room intending to try on the slipper,

and her Mother stood beside her. But her great toe prevented her

getting it on, her foot was too long.

Then her Mother handed her a knife, and said, 'Cut off the toe; when

you are Queen you won't have to walk any more.'

The girl cut off her toe, forced her foot into the slipper, stifled

her pain, and went out to the Prince. Then he took her up on his horse

as his Bride, and rode away with her.

However, they had to pass the grave on the way, and there sat the two

Doves on the hazel-tree, and cried:

'Prithee, look back, prithee, look back,

There's blood on the track,

The shoe is too small,

At home the true Bride is waiting thy call.'

Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was streaming from

it. So he turned his horse round and carried the false Bride back to

her home, and said that she was not the right one; the second sister

must try the shoe.

Then she went into the room, and succeeded in getting her toes into

the shoe, but her heel was too big.

Then her Mother handed her a knife, and said, 'Cut a bit off your

heel; when you are Queen you won't have to walk any more.'

The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe,

stifled her pain, and went out to the Prince.

Then he took her up on his horse as his Bride, and rode off with her.

As they passed the grave, the two Doves were sitting on the

hazel-tree, and crying:

'Prithee, look back, prithee, look back,

There's blood on the track,

The shoe is too small,

At home the true Bride is waiting thy call.'

He looked down at her foot and saw that it was streaming with blood,

and there were deep red spots on her stockings. Then he turned his

horse and brought the false Bride back to her home.

'This is not the right one either,' he said. 'Have you no other

daughter?'

'No,' said the man. 'There is only a daughter of my late wife's, a

puny, stunted drudge, but she cannot possibly be the Bride.'

The Prince said that she must be sent for.

But the Mother answered, 'Oh no, she is much too dirty; she mustn't be

seen on any account.'

He was, however, absolutely determined to have his way, and they were

obliged to summon Ashenputtel.

When she had washed her hands and face, she went up and curtsied to

the Prince, who handed her the golden slipper.

Then she sat down on a bench, pulled off her wooden clog and put on

the slipper, which fitted to a nicety.

And when she stood up and the Prince looked into her face, he

recognised the beautiful maiden that he had danced with, and cried:

'This is the true Bride!'

The Step-mother and the two sisters were dismayed and turned white

with rage; but he took Ashenputtel on his horse and rode off with her.

As they rode past the hazel-tree the two White Doves cried:

'Prithee, look back, prithee, look back,

No blood's on the track,

The shoe's _not_ too small,

You carry the true Bride home to your hall.'

And when they had said this they both came flying down, and settled on

Ashenputtel's shoulders, one on the right, and one on the left, and

remained perched there.

When the wedding was going to take place, the two false sisters came

and wanted to curry favour with her, and take part in her good

fortune. As the bridal party was going to the church, the eldest was

on the right side, the youngest on the left, and the Doves picked out

one of the eyes of each of them.

Afterwards, when they were coming out of the church, the elder was on

the left, the younger on the right, and the Doves picked out the other

eye of each of them. And so for their wickedness and falseness they

were punished with blindness for the rest of their days.