Grimm's Household Tales with the
translated by Margaret Hunt
THERE were once upon a time two brothers,
one rich and the other poor. The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-hearted.
The poor one supported himself by making brooms, and was good and honourable.
The poor one had two children, who were twin brothers and as like each
other as two drops of water. The two boys went backwards and forwards
to the rich house, and often got some of the scraps to eat. It happened
once when the poor man was going into the forest to fetch brush-wood,
that he saw a bird which was quite golden and more beautiful than any
he had ever chanced to meet with. He picked up a small stone, threw it
at him, and was lucky enough to hit him, but one golden feather only fell
down, and the bird flew away. The man took the feather and carried it
to his brother, who looked at it and said, "It is pure gold!"
and gave him a great deal of money for it. Next day the man climbed into
a birch-tree, and was about to cut off a couple of branches when the same
bird flew out, and when the man searched he found a nest, and an egg lay
inside it, which was of gold. He took the egg home with him, and carried
it to his brother, who again said, "It is pure gold," and gave
him what it was worth. At last the goldsmith said, "I should indeed
like to have the bird itself." The poor man went into the forest
for the third time, and again saw the golden bird sitting on the tree,
so he took a stone and brought it down and carried it to his brother,
who gave him a great heap of gold for it. "Now I can get on,"
thought he, and went contentedly home.
The goldsmith was crafty and cunning, and knew very well what kind of a bird it was. He called his wife and said, "Roast me the gold bird, and take care that none of it is lost. I have a fancy to eat it all myself." The bird, however, was no common one, but of so wondrous a kind that whosoever ate its heart and liver found every morning a piece of gold beneath his pillow. The woman made the bird ready, put it on the spit, and let it roast. Now it happened that while it was at the fire, and the woman was forced to go out of the kitchen on account of some other work, the two children of the poor broom-maker ran in, stood by the spit and turned it round once or twice. And as at that very moment two little bits of the bird fell down into the dripping-tin, one of the boys said, "We will eat these two little bits; I am so hungry, and no one will ever miss them." Then the two ate the pieces, but the woman came into the kitchen and saw that they were eating something and said, "What have ye been eating?" "Two little morsels which fell out of the bird," answered they. "That must have been the heart and the liver," said the woman, quite frightened, and in order that her husband might not miss them and be angry, she quickly killed a young cock, took out his heart and liver, and put them beside the golden bird. When it was ready, she carried it to the goldsmith, who consumed it all alone, and left none of it. Next morning, however, when he felt beneath his pillow, and expected to bring out the piece of gold, no more gold pieces were there than there had always been.
The two children did not know what a piece of good-fortune had fallen to their lot. Next morning when they arose, something fell rattling to the ground, and when they picked it up there were two gold pieces! They took them to their father, who was astonished and said, "How can that have happened?" When next morning they again found two, and so on daily, he went to his brother and told him the strange story. The goldsmith at once knew how it had come to pass, and that the children had eaten the heart and liver of the golden bird, and in order to revenge himself, and because he was envious and hard-hearted, he said to the father, "Thy children are in league with the Evil One, do not take the gold, and do not suffer them to stay any longer in thy house, for he has them in his power, and may ruin thee likewise." The father feared the Evil One, and painful as it was to him, he nevertheless led the twins forth into the forest, and with a sad heart left them there.
And now the two children ran about the forest, and sought the way home again, but could not find it, and only lost themselves more and more. At length they met with a huntsman, who asked, "To whom do you children belong?" "We are the poor broom-maker's boys," they replied, and they told him that their father would not keep them any longer in the house because a piece of gold lay every morning under their pillows. "Come," said the huntsman, "that is nothing so very bad, if at the same time you keep honest, and are not idle." As the good man liked the children, and had none of his own, he took them home with him and said, "I will be your father, and bring you up till you are big." They learnt huntsmanship from him, and the piece of gold which each of them found when he awoke, was kept for them by him in case they should need it in the future.
When they were grown up, their foster-father one day took them into the forest with him, and said, "To-day shall you make your trial shot, so that I may release you from your apprenticeship, and make you huntsmen." They went with him to lie in wait and stayed there a long time, but no game appeared. The huntsman, however, looked above him and saw a covey of wild geese flying in the form of a triangle, and said to one of them, "Shoot me down one from each corner." He did it, and thus accomplished his trial shot. Soon after another covey came flying by in the form of the figure two, and the huntsman bade the other also bring down one from each corner, and his trial shot was likewise successful. "Now," said the foster-father, "I pronounce you out of your apprenticeship; you are skilled huntsmen." Thereupon the two brothers went forth together into the forest, and took counsel with each other and planned something. And in the evening when they had sat down to supper, they said to their foster-father, "We will not touch food, or take one mouthful, until you have granted us a request." Said he, "What, then, is your request?" They replied, "We have now finished learning, and we must prove ourselves in the world, so allow us to go away and travel." Then spake the old man joyfully, "You talk like brave huntsmen, that which you desire has been my wish; go forth, all will go well with you." Thereupon they ate and drank joyously together.
When the appointed day came, their foster-father presented each of them with a good gun and a dog, and let each of them take as many of his saved-up gold pieces as he chose. Then he accompanied them a part of the way, and when taking leave, he gave them a bright knife, and said, "If ever you separate, stick this knife into a tree at the place where you part, and when one of you goes back, he will will be able to see how his absent brother is faring, for the side of the knife which is turned in the direction by which he went, will rust if he dies, but will remain bright as long as he is alive." The two brothers went still farther onwards, and came to a forest which was so large that it was impossible for them to get out of it in one day. So they passed the night in it, and ate what they had put in their hunting-pouches, but they walked all the second day likewise, and still did not get out. As they had nothing to eat, one of them said, "We must shoot something for ourselves or we shall suffer from hunger," and loaded his gun, and looked about him. And when an old hare came running up towards them, he laid his gun on his shoulder, but the hare cried,
"Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
and sprang instantly into the thicket, and brought two
young ones. But the little creatures played so merrily, and were so pretty,
that the huntsmen could not find it in their hearts to kill them. They
therefore kept them with them, and the little hares followed on foot.
Soon after this, a fox crept past; they were just going to shoot it, but
the fox cried,
"Dear hunstman, do but let me live,
He, too, brought two little foxes, and the huntsmen did
not like to kill them either, but gave them to the hares for company,
and they followed behind. It was not long before a wolf strode out of
the thicket; the huntsmen made ready to shoot him, but the wolf cried,
"Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
The huntsmen put the two wolves beside the other animals,
and they followed behind them. Then a bear came who wanted to trot about
a little longer, and cried:
"Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
The two young bears were added to the others, and there
were already eight of them. At length who came? A lion came, and tossed
his mane. But the huntsmen did not let themselves be frightened and aimed
at him likewise, but the lion also said,
"Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
And he brought his little ones to them, and now the huntsmen
had two lions, two bears, two wolves, two foxes, and two hares, who followed
them and served them. In the meantime their hunger was not appeased by
this, and they said to the foxes, "Hark ye, cunning fellows, provide
us with something to eat. You are crafty and deep." They replied,
"Not far from here lies a village, from which we have already brought
many a fowl; we will show you the way there." So they went into the
village, bought themselves something to eat, had some food given to their
beasts, and then travelled onwards. The foxes, however, knew their way
very well about the district and where the poultry-yards were, and were
able to guide the huntsmen.
Now they travelled about for a while, but could find no situations where they could remain together, so they said, "There is nothing else for it, we must part." They divided the animals, so that each of them had a lion, a bear, a wolf, a fox, and a hare, then they took leave of each other, promised to love each other like brothers till their death, and stuck the knife which their foster-father had given them, into a tree, after which one went east, and the other went west.
The younger, however, arrived with his beasts in a town which was all hung with black crape. He went into an inn, and asked the host if he could accommodate his animals. The innkeeper gave him a stable, where there was a hole in the wall, and the hare crept out and fetched himself the head of a cabbage, and the fox fetched himself a hen, and when he had devoured that got the cock as well, but the wolf, the bear, and the lion could not get out because they were too big. Then the innkeeper let them be taken to a place where a cow was just then lying on the grass, that they might eat till they were satisfied. And when the huntsman had taken care of his animals, he asked the innkeeper why the town was thus hung with black crape? Said the host, "Because our King's only daughter is to die to-morrow." The huntsman inquired if she was "sick unto death?" "No," answered the host, "she is vigorous and healthy, nevertheless she must die!" "How is that?" asked the huntsman. "There is a high hill without the town, whereon dwells a dragon who every year must have a pure virgin, or he lays the whole country waste, and now all the maidens have already been given to him, and there is no longer anyone left but the King's daughter, yet there is no mercy for her; she must be given up to him, and that is to be done to-morrow." Said the huntsman, "Why is the dragon not killed?" "Ah," replied the host, "so many knights have tried it, but it has cost all of them their lives. The King has promised that he who conquers the dragon shall have his daughter to wife, and shall likewise govern the kingdom after his own death."
The huntsman said nothing more to this, but next morning took his animals, and with them ascended the dragon's hill. A little church stood at the top of it, and on the altar three full cups were standing, with the inscription, "Whosoever empties the cups will become the strongest man on earth, and will be able to wield the sword which is buried before the threshold of the door." The huntsman did not drink, but went out and sought for the sword in the ground, but was unable to move it from its place. Then he went in and emptied the cups, and now he was strong enough to take up the sword, and his hand could quite easily wield it. When the hour came when the maiden was to be delivered over to the dragon, the King, the marshal, and courtiers accompanied her. From afar she saw the huntsman on the dragon's hill, and thought it was the dragon standing there waiting for her, and did not want to go up to him, but at last, because otherwise the whole town would have been destroyed, she was forced to go the miserable journey. The King and courtiers returned home full of grief; the King's marshal, however, was to stand still, and see all from a distance.
When the King's daughter got to the top of the hill, it was not the dragon which stood there, but the young huntsman, who comforted her, and said he would save her, led her into the church, and locked her in. It was not long before the seven-headed dragon came thither with loud roaring. When he perceived the huntsman, he was astonished and said, "What business hast thou here on the hill?" The huntsman answered, "I want to fight with thee." Said the dragon, "Many knights have left their lives here, I shall soon have made an end of thee too," and he breathed fire out of seven jaws. The fire was to have lighted the dry grass, and the huntsman was to have been suffocated in the heat and smoke, but the animals came running up and trampled out the fire. Then the dragon rushed upon the huntsman, but he swung his sword until it sang through the air, and struck off three of his heads. Then the dragon grew right furious, and rose up in the air, and spat out flames of fire over the huntsman, and was about to plunge down on him, but the huntsman once more drew out his sword, and again cut off three of his heads. The monster became faint and sank down, nevertheless it was just able to rush upon the huntsman, but he with his last strength smote its tail off, and as he could fight no longer, called up his animals who tore it in pieces. When the struggle was ended, the huntsman unlocked the church, and found the King's daughter lying on the floor, as she had lost her senses with anguish and terror during the contest. He carried her out, and when she came to herself once more, and opened her eyes, he showed her the dragon all cut to pieces, and told her that she was now delivered. She rejoiced and said, "Now thou wilt be my dearest husband, for my father has promised me to him who kills the dragon." Thereupon she took off her necklace of coral, and divided it amongst the animals in order to reward them, and the lion received the golden clasp. Her pocket-handkerchief, however, on which was her name, she gave to the huntsman, who went and cut the tongues out of the dragon's seven heads, wrapped them in the handkerchief, and preserved them carefully.
That done, as he was so faint and weary with the fire and the battle, he said to the maiden, "We are both faint and weary, we will sleep awhile." Then she said, "yes," and they lay down on the ground, and the huntsman said to the lion, "Thou shalt keep watch, that no one surprises us in our sleep," and both fell asleep. The lion lay down beside them to watch, but he also was so weary with the fight, that he called to the bear and said, "Lie down near me, I must sleep a little: if anything comes, waken me." Then the bear lay down beside him, but he also was tired, and called the wolf and said, "Lie down by me, I must sleep a little, but if anything comes, waken me." Then the wolf lay down by him, but he was tired likewise, and called the fox and said, "Lie down by me, I must sleep a little; if anything comes, waken me." Then the fox lay down beside him, but he too was weary, and called the hare and said, "Lie down near me, I must sleep a little, and if anything should come, waken me." Then the hare sat down by him, but the poor hare was tired too, and had no one whom he could call there to keep watch, and fell asleep. And now the King's daughter, the huntsman, the lion, the bear, the wolf, the fox, and the hare, were all sleeping a sound sleep. The marshal, however, who was to look on from a distance, took courage when he did not see the dragon flying away with the maiden, and finding that all the hill had become quiet, ascended it. There lay the dragon hacked and hewn to pieces on the ground, and not far from it were the King's daughter and a huntsman with his animals, and all of them were sunk in a sound sleep. And as he was wicked and godless he took his sword, cut off the huntsman's head, and seized the maiden in his arms, and carried her down the hill. Then she awoke and was terrified, but the marshal said, "Thou art in my hands, thou shalt say that it was I who killed the dragon." "I cannot do that," she replied, "for it was a huntsman with his animals who did it." Then he drew his sword, and threatened to kill her if she did not obey him, and so compelled her that she promised it. Then he took her to the King, who did not know how to contain himself for joy when he once more looked on his dear child in life, whom he had believed to have been torn to pieces by the monster. The marshal said to him, "I have killed the dragon, and delivered the maiden and the whole kingdom as well, therefore I demand her as my wife, as was promised." The King said to the maiden, "Is what he says true?" "Ah, yes," she answered, "it must indeed be true, but I will not consent to have the wedding celebrated until after a year and a day," for she thought in that time she should hear something of her dear huntsman.
The animals, however, were still lying sleeping beside their dead master on the dragon's hill, and there came a great humble-bee and lighted on the hare's nose, but the hare wiped it off with his paw, and went on sleeping. The humble-bee came a second time, but the hare again rubbed it off and slept on. Then it came for the third time, and stung his nose so that he awoke. As soon as the hare was awake, he roused the fox, and the fox, the wolf, and the wolf the bear, and the bear the lion. And when the lion awoke and saw that the maiden was gone, and his master was dead, he began to roar frightfully and cried, "Who has done that? Bear, why didst thou not waken me?" The bear asked the wolf, "Why didst thou not waken me?" and the wolf the fox, "Why didst thou not waken me?" and the fox the hare, "Why didst thou not waken me?" The poor hare alone did not know what answer to make, and the blame rested with him. Then they were just going to fall upon him, but he entreated them and said, "Kill me not, I will bring our master to life again. I know a mountain on which a root grows which, when placed in the mouth of any one, cures him of all illness and every wound. But the mountain lies two hundred hours journey from here." The lion said, "In four-and-twenty hours must thou have run thither and have come back, and have brought the root with thee." Then the hare sprang away, and in four-and-twenty hours he was back, and brought the root with him. The lion put the huntsman's head on again, and the hare placed the root in his mouth, and immediately everything united together again, and his heart beat, and life came back. Then the huntsman awoke, and was alarmed when he did not see the maiden, and thought, "She must have gone away whilst I was sleeping, in order to get rid of me." The lion in his great haste had put his master's head on the wrong way round, but the huntsman did not observe it because of his melancholy thoughts about the King's daughter. But at noon, when he was going to eat something, he saw that his head was turned backwards and could not understand it, and asked the animals what had happened to him in his sleep. Then the lion told him that they, too, had all fallen asleep from weariness, and on awaking, had found him dead with his head cut off, that the hare had brought the life-giving root, and that he, in his haste, had laid hold of the head the wrong way, but that he would repair his mistake. Then he tore the huntsman's head off again, turned it round, and the hare healed it with the root.
The huntsman, however, was sad at heart, and travelled about the world, and made his animals dance before people. It came to pass that precisely at the end of one year he came back to the same town where he had delivered the King's daughter from the dragon, and this time the town was gaily hung with red cloth. Then he said to the host, "What does this mean? Last year the town was all hung with black crape, what means the red cloth to-day?" The host answered, "Last year our King's daughter was to have been delivered over to the dragon, but the marshal fought with it and killed it, and so to-morrow their wedding is to be solemnized, and that is why the town was then hung with black crape for mourning, and is to-day covered with red cloth for joy?"
Next day when the wedding was to take place, the huntsman said at mid-day to the inn-keeper, "Do you believe, sir host, that I while with you here to-day shall eat bread from the King's own table?" "Nay," said the host, "I would bet a hundred pieces of gold that that will not come true." The huntsman accepted the wager, and set against it a purse with just the same number of gold pieces. Then he called the hare and said, "Go, my dear runner, and fetch me some of the bread which the King is eating." Now the little hare was the lowest of the animals, and could not transfer this order to any the others, but had to get on his legs himself. "Alas!" thought he, "if I bound through the streets thus alone, the butchers' dogs will all be after me." It happened as he expected, and the dogs came after him and wanted to make holes in his good skin. But he sprang away, have you have never seen one running? and sheltered himself in a sentry-box without the soldier being aware of it. Then the dogs came and wanted to have him out, but the soldier did not understand a jest, and struck them with the butt-end of his gun, till they ran away yelling and howling. As soon as the hare saw that the way was clear, he ran into the palace and straight to the King's daughter, sat down under her chair, and scratched at her foot. Then she said, "Wilt thou get away?" and thought it was her dog. The hare scratched her foot for the second time, and she again said, "Wilt thou get away?" and thought it was her dog. But the hare did not let itself be turned from its purpose, and scratched her for the third time. Then she peeped down, and knew the hare by its collar. She took him on her lap, carried him into her chamber, and said, "Dear Hare, what dost thou want?" He answered, "My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and has sent me to ask for a loaf of bread like that which the King eats." Then she was full of joy and had the baker summoned, and ordered him to bring a loaf such as was eaten by the King. The little hare said, "But the baker must likewise carry it thither for me, that the butchers' dogs may do no harm to me." The baker carried if for him as far as the door of the inn, and then the hare got on his hind legs, took the loaf in his front paws, and carried it to his master. Then said the huntsman, "Behold, sir host, the hundred pieces of gold are mine." The host was astonished, but the huntsman went on to say, "Yes, sir host, I have the bread, but now I will likewise have some of the King's roast meat."
The host said, "I should indeed like to see that," but he would make no more wagers. The huntsman called the fox and said, "My little fox, go and fetch me some roast meat, such as the King eats." The red fox knew the bye-ways better, and went by holes and corners without any dog seeing him, seated himself under the chair of the King's daughter, and scratched her foot. Then she looked down and recognized the fox by its collar, took him into her chamber with her and said, "Dear fox, what dost thou want?" He answered, "My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and has sent me. I am to ask for some roast meat such as the King is eating." Then she made the cook come, who was obliged to prepare a roast joint, the same as was eaten by the King, and to carry it for the fox as far as the door. Then the fox took the dish, waved away with his tail the flies which had settled on the meat, and then carried it to his master. "Behold, sir host," said the huntsman, "bread and meat are here but now I will also have proper vegetables with it, such as are eaten by the King." Then he called the wolf, and said, "Dear Wolf, go thither and fetch me vegetables such as the King eats." Then the wolf went straight to the palace, as he feared no one, and when he got to the King's daughter's chamber, he twitched at the back of her dress, so that she was forced to look round. She recognized him by his collar, and took him into her chamber with her, and said, "Dear Wolf, what dost thou want?" He answered, "My master, who killed the dragon, is here, I am to ask for some vegetables, such as the King eats." Then she made the cook come, and he had to make ready a dish of vegetables, such as the King ate, and had to carry it for the wolf as far as the door, and then the wolf took the dish from him, and carried it to his master. "Behold, sir host," said the huntsman, "now I have bread and meat and vegetables, but I will also have some pastry to eat like that which the King eats." He called the bear, and said, "Dear Bear, thou art fond of licking anything sweet; go and bring me some confectionery, such as the King eats." Then the bear trotted to the palace, and every one got out of his way, but when he went to the guard, they presented their muskets, and would not let him go into the royal palace. But he got up on his hind legs, and gave them a few boxes on the ears, right and left, with his paws, so that the whole watch broke up, and then he went straight to the King's daughter, placed himself behind her, and growled a little. Then she looked behind her, knew the bear, and bade him go into her room with her, and said, "Dear Bear, what dost thou want?" He answered, "My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask for some confectionery, such as the King eats." Then she summoned her confectioner, who had to bake confectionery such as the King ate, and carry it to the door for the bear; then the bear first licked up the comfits which had rolled down, and then he stood upright, took the dish, and carried it to his master. "Behold, sir host," said the huntsman, "now I have bread, meat, vegetables and confectionery, but I will drink wine also, and such as the King drinks." He called his lion to him and said, "Dear Lion, thou thyself likest to drink till thou art intoxicated, go and fetch me some wine, such as is drunk by the King." Then the lion strode through the streets, and the people fled from him, and when he came to the watch, they wanted to bar the way against him, but he did but roar once, and they all ran away. Then the lion went to the royal apartment, and knocked at the door with his tail. Then the King's daughter came forth, and was almost afraid of the lion, but she knew him by the golden clasp of her necklace, and bade him go with her into her chamber, and said, "Dear Lion, what wilt thou have?" He answered, "My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask for some wine such as is drunk by the King." Then she bade the cup-bearer be called, who was to give the lion some wine like that which was drunk by the King. The lion said, "I will go with him, and see that I get the right wine." Then he went down with the cup-bearer, and when they were below, the cup-bearer wanted to draw him some of the common wine that was drunk by the King's servants, but the lion said, "Stop, I will taste the wine first," and he drew half a measure, and swallowed it down at one draught. "No," said he, "that is not right." The cup-bearer looked at him askance, but went on, and was about to give him some out of another barrel which was for the King's marshal. The lion said, "Stop, let me taste the wine first," and drew half a measure and drank it. "That is better, but still not right," said he. Then the cup-bearer grew angry and said, "How can a stupid animal like you understand wine?" But the lion gave him a blow behind the ears, which made him fall down by no means gently, and when he had got up again, he conducted the lion quite silently into a little cellar apart, where the King's wine lay, from which no one ever drank. The lion first drew half a measure and tried the wine, and then he said, That may possibly be the right sort, and bade the cup-bearer fill six bottles of it. And now they went upstairs again, but when the lion came out of the cellar into the open air, he reeled here and there, and was rather drunk, and the cup-bearer was forced to carry the wine as far as the door for him, and then the lion took the handle of the basket in his mouth, and took it to his master. The huntsman said, "Behold, sir host, here have I bread, meat, vegetables, confectionery and wine such as the King has, and now I will dine with my animals," and he sat down and ate and drank, and gave the hare, the fox, the wolf, the bear, and the lion also to eat and to drink, and was joyful, for he saw that the King's daughter still loved him. And when he had finished his dinner, he said, "Sir host, now have I eaten and drunk, as the King eats and drinks, and now I will go to the King's court and marry the King's daughter." Said the host, "How can that be, when she already has a betrothed husband, and when the wedding is to be solemnized to-day?" Then the huntsman drew forth the handkerchief which the King's daughter had given him on the dragon's hill, and in which were folded the monster's seven tongues, and said, "That which I hold in my hand shall help me to do it." Then the innkeeper looked at the handkerchief, and said, "Whatever I believe, I do not believe that, and I am willing to stake my house and courtyard on it." The huntsman, however, took a bag with a thousand gold pieces, put it on the table, and said, "I stake that on it."
Now the King said to his daughter, at the royal table, "What did all the wild animals want, which have been coming to thee, and going in and out of my palace?" She replied, "I may not tell you, but send and have the master of these animals brought, and you will do well." The King sent a servant to the inn, and invited the stranger, and the servant came just as the huntsman had laid his wager with the innkeeper. Then said he, "Behold, sir host, now the King sends his servant and invites me, but I do not go in this way." And he said to the servant, "I request the Lord King to send me royal clothing, and a carriage with six horses, and servants to attend me." When the King heard the answer, he said to his daughter, "What shall I do?" She said, "Cause him to be fetched as he desires to be, and you will do well." Then the King sent royal apparel, a carriage with six horses, and servants to wait on him. When the huntsman saw them coming, he said, "Behold, sir host, now I am fetched as I desired to be," and he put on the royal garments, took the handkerchief with the dragon's tongues with him, and drove off to the King. When the King saw him coming, he said to his daughter, "How shall I receive him?" She answered, "Go to meet him and you will do well." Then the King went to meet him and led him in, and his animals followed. The King gave him a seat near himself and his daughter, and the marshal, as bridegroom, sat on the other side, but no longer knew the huntsman. And now at this very moment, the seven heads of the dragon were brought in as a spectacle, and the King said, "The seven heads were cut off the dragon by the marshal, wherefore to-day I give him my daughter to wife." The the huntsman stood up, opened the seven mouths, and said, "Where are the seven tongues of the dragon?" Then was the marshal terrified, and grew pale and knew not what answer he should make, and at length in his anguish he said, "Dragons have no tongues." The huntsman said, "Liars ought to have none, but the dragon's tongues are the tokens of the victor," and he unfolded the handkerchief, and there lay all seven inside it. And he put each tongue in the mouth to which it belonged, and it fitted exactly. Then he took the handkerchief on which the name of the princess was embroidered, and showed it to the maiden, and asked to whom she had given it, and she replied, "To him who killed the dragon." And then he called his animals, and took the collar off each of them and the golden clasp from the lion, and showed them to the maiden and asked to whom they belonged. She answered, "The necklace and golden clasp were mine, but I divided them among the animals who helped to conquer the dragon." Then spake the huntsman, "When I, tired with the fight, was resting and sleeping, the marshal came and cut off my head. Then he carried away the King's daughter, and gave out that it was he who had killed the dragon, but that he lied I prove with the tongues, the handkerchief, and the necklace." And then he related how his animals had healed him by means of a wonderful root, and how he had travelled about with them for one year, and had at length again come there and had learnt the treachery of the marshal by the inn-keeper's story. Then the King asked his daughter, "Is it true that this man killed the dragon?" And she answered, "Yes, it is true. Now can I reveal the wicked deed of the marshal, as it has come to light without my connivance, for he wrung from me a promise to be silent. For this reason, however, did I make the condition that the marriage should not be solemnized for a year and a day." Then the King bade twelve councillors be summoned who were to pronounce judgment on the marshal, and they sentenced him to be torn to pieces by four bulls. The marshal was therefore executed, but the King gave his daughter to the huntsman, and named him his viceroy over the whole kingdom. The wedding was celebrated with great joy, and the young King caused his father and his foster-father to be brought, and loaded them with treasures. Neither did he forget the inn-keeper, but sent for him and said, "Behold, sir host, I have married the King's daughter, and your house and yard are mine." The host said, "Yes, according to justice it is so." But the young King said, "It shall be done according to mercy," and told him that he should keep his house and yard, and gave him the thousand pieces of gold as well.
And now the young King and Queen were thoroughly happy, and lived in gladness together. He often went out hunting because it was a delight to him, and the faithful animals had to accompany him. In the neighborhood, however, there was a forest of which it was reported that it was haunted, and that whosoever did but enter it did not easily get out again. The young King, however, had a great inclination to hunt in it, and let the old King have no peace until he allowed him to do so. So he rode forth with a great following, and when he came to the forest, he saw a snow-white hart and said to his people, "Wait here until I return, I want to chase that beautiful creature," and he rode into the forest after it, followed only by his animals. The attendants halted and waited until evening, but he did not return, so they rode home, and told the young Queen that the young King had followed a white hart into the enchanted forest, and had not come back again. Then she was in the greatest concern about him. He, however, had still continued to ride on and on after the beautiful wild animal, and had never been able to overtake it; when he thought he was near enough to aim, he instantly saw it bound away into the far distance, and at length it vanished altogether. And now he perceived that he had penetrated deep into the forest, and blew his horn but he received no answer, for his attendants could not hear it. And as night, too, was falling, he saw that he could not get home that day, so he dismounted from his horse, lighted himself a fire near a tree, and resolved to spend the night by it. While he was sitting by the fire, and his animals also were lying down beside him, it seemed to him that he heard a human voice. He looked round, but could perceived nothing. Soon afterwards, he again heard a groan as if from above, and then he looked up, and saw an old woman sitting in the tree, who wailed unceasingly, "Oh, oh, oh, how cold I am!" Said he, "Come down, and warm thyself if thou art cold." But she said, "No, thy animals will bite me." He answered, "They will do thee no harm, old mother, do come down." She, however, was a witch, and said, "I will throw down a wand from the tree, and if thou strikest them on the back with it, they will do me no harm." Then she threw him a small wand, and he struck them with it, and instantly they lay still and were turned into stone. And when the witch was safe from the animals, she leapt down and touched him also with a wand, and changed him to stone. Thereupon she laughed, and dragged him and the animals into a vault, where many more such stones already lay.
As, however, the young King did not come back at all, the Queen's anguish and care grew constantly greater. And it so happened that at this very time the other brother who had turned to the east when they separated, came into the kingdom. He had sought a situation, and had found none, and had then travelled about here and there, and had made his animals dance. Then it came into his mind that he would just go and look at the knife that they had thrust in the trunk of a tree at their parting, that he might learn how his brother was. When he got there his brother's side of the knife was half rusted, and half bright. Then he was alarmed and thought, "A great misfortune must have befallen my brother, but perhaps I can still save him, for half the knife is still bright." He and his animals travelled towards the west, and when he entered the gate of the town, the guard came to meet him, and asked if he was to announce him to his consort the young Queen, who had for a couple of days been in the greatest sorrow about his staying away, and was afraid he had been killed in the enchanted forest? The sentries, indeed, thought no otherwise than that he was the young King himself, for he looked so like him, and had wild animals running behind him. Then he saw that they were speaking of his brother, and thought, "It will be better if I pass myself off for him, and then I can rescue him more easily." So he allowed himself to be escorted into the castle by the guard, and was received with the greatest joy. The young Queen indeed thought that he was her husband, and asked him why he had stayed away so long. He answered, "I had lost myself in a forest, and could not find my way out again any sooner." At night he was taken to the royal bed, but he laid a two-edged sword between him and the young Queen; she did not know what that could mean, but did not venture to ask.
He remained in the palace a couple of days, and in the meantime inquired into everything which related to the enchanted forest, and at last he said, "I must hunt there once more." The King and the young Queen wanted to persuade him not to do it, but he stood out against them, and went forth with a larger following. When he had got into the forest, it fared with him as with his brother; he saw a white hart and said to his people, "Stay here, and wait until I return, I want to chase the lovely wild beast," and then he rode into the forest and his animals ran after him. But he could not overtake the hart, and got so deep into the forest that he was forced to pass the night there. And when he had lighted a fire, he heard some one wailing above him, "Oh, oh, oh, how cold I am!" Then he looked up, and the self-same witch was sitting in the tree. Said he, "If thou art cold, come down, little old mother, and warm thyself." She answered, "No, thy animals will bite me." But he said, "They will not hurt thee." Then she cried, "I will throw down a wand to thee, and if thou smitest them with it they will do me no harm." When the huntsman heard that, he had no confidence in the old woman, and said, "I will not strike my animals. Come down, or I will fetch thee." Then she cried, "What dost thou want? Thou shalt not touch me." But he replied, "If thou dost not come, I will shoot thee." Said she, "Shoot away, I do not fear thy bullets!" Then he aimed, and fired at her, but the witch was proof against all leaden bullets, and laughed, and yelled and cried, "Thou shalt not hit me." The huntsman knew what to do, tore three silver buttons off his coat, and loaded his gun with them, for against them her arts were useless, and when he fired she fell down at once with a scream. Then he set his foot on her and said, Old witch, if thou dost not instantly confess where my brother is, I will seize thee with both my hands and throw thee into the fire. She was in a great fright, begged for mercy and said, He and his animals lie in a vault, turned to stone. Then he compelled her to go thither with him, threatened her, and said, Old sea-cat, now shalt thou make my brother and all the human beings lying here, alive again, or thou shalt go into the fire! She took a wand and touched the stones, and then his brother with his animals came to life again, and many others, merchants, artizans, and shepherds, arose, thanked him for their deliverance, and went to their homes. But when the twin brothers saw each other again, they kissed each other and rejoiced with all their hearts. Then they seized the witch, bound her and laid her on the fire, and when she was burnt the forest opened of its own accord, and was light and clear, and the King's palace could be seen at about the distance of a three hours walk.
Thereupon the two brothers went home together, and on the way told each other their histories. And when the youngest said that he was ruler of the whole country in the King's stead, the other observed, "That I remarked very well, for when I came to the town, and was taken for thee, all royal honours were paid me; the young Queen looked on me as her husband, and I had to eat at her side, and sleep in thy bed." When the other heard that, he became so jealous and angry that he drew his sword, and struck off his brother's head. But when he saw him lying there dead, and saw his red blood flowing, he repented most violently: "My brother delivered me," cried he, "and I have killed him for it," and he bewailed him aloud. Then his hare came and offered to go and bring some of the root of life, and bounded away and brought it while yet there was time, and the dead man was brought to life again, and knew nothing about the wound.
After this they journeyed onwards, and the youngest said,
"Thou lookest like me, hast royal apparel on as I have, and the animals
follow thee as they do me; we will go in by opposite gates, and arrive
at the same time from the two sides in the aged King's presence."
So they separated, and at the same time came the watchmen from the one
door and from the other, and announced that the young King and the animals
had returned from the chase. The King said, "It is not possible,
the gates lie quite a mile apart." In the meantime, however, the
two brothers entered the courtyard of the palace from opposite sides,
and both mounted the steps. Then the King said to the daughter, "Say
which is thy husband. Each of them looks exactly like the other, I cannot
tell." Then she was in great distress, and could not tell; but at
last she remembered the necklace which she had given to the animals, and
she sought for and found her little golden clasp on the lion, and she
cried in her delight, "He who is followed by this lion is my true
husband". Then the young King laughed and said, "Yes, he is
the right one," and they sat down together to table, and ate and
drank, and were merry. At night when the young King went to bed, his wife
said, "Why hast thou for these last nights always laid a two-edged
sword in our bed? I thought thou hadst a wish to kill me." Then he
knew how true his brother had been.
Grimm, Jacob and Wilhelm. Household Tales. Margaret Hunt, translator. London: George Bell, 1884, 1892. 2 volumes.
For the main lines of our story we are indebted to one from Paderborn, which is the simplest and most natural. The beginning of this has also been told us in Hesse as a fragment, and with some variations. There we have only two poor orphan broom-maker's boys, who have a little sister to support as well as themselves. The youngest discovers the bird with the golden egg, and sells the egg to a goldsmith. For some time the boy finds an egg every morning, until at last the bird tells him to take him to the goldsmith. The bird sings to the goldsmith that whosoever eats his heart shall be king, and whosoever eats his liver shall every morning find a purse of gold under his pillow. And now the goldsmith is willing to marry the little sister of the poor boys if they will give him the bird. At the wedding however, for which the bird is roasted, the two brothers, who are turning the spit in the kitchen, eat two little bits which have fallen off, and which, though they do not know it, are the heart and liver of the bird. Then, full of anger, the deceived goldsmith drives them out of his house. This part of the story is told with peculiar refinement in a Servian story in Wuk, No. 26; and the Russian story in Dietrich, No. 9, should likewise be com pared. From the point where the expelled children reach the forester in the wood we have followed an excellent story, full of details, from the district of Schwalm in Hesse, compared with which that from Paderborn is only a meagre summary. This latter begins only with the incident of the forester having taken into his house two poor children who were begging at his door.
Our story is also told with another remarkable beginning. A certain king has a daughter who is pursued by mice, until at last he knows no other means of saving her but having a tower built in the middle of a great river, to which she is taken. t has one maid with her, and one day, when they are sitting together in the tower, a jet of water springs in through the window. She bids her maid set a tub, which is filled, whereupon the spring of water ceases. Both of them drink some of it, and afterwards each bears a son, one of whom is called Water-Peter and the other Water-Paul. They put both of the children in a small chest, write their names upon it, and let it float down the stream. A fisherman gets it out, brings up the two boys, who are exactly alike, and has them taught huntsmanship. The rest of the story is like ours until the marriage of Water-Peter with a king's daughter; but it is much more meagre. Each has only three animals, a bear, a lion, and a wolf. The old king dies a year afterwards, and Water-Peter receives the kingdom. One day he goes out hunting, loses sight of his attendants, and at night rests with his beasts by a fire. An old cat is sitting on a tree, and asks if she may be allowed to warm herself a little at his fire. When he says yes, she gives him three hairs of her fur, and begs him to lay one hair on each animal, otherwise she will be afraid to come. As soon as he has done this the beasts die: The king is enraged, and is about to kill her, but she says that in that place there is a spring with the water of death and another with the water of life, and that he is to take some of the latter and pour it over the animals. He does this, and they come to life again. When Water-Peter comes home he finds Water-Paul in his place, and kills him in his jealousy; but when he hears how faithful he has been, and that he has always laid a naked sword between him self and the queen, he fetches some of the water of life, and restores him to life. A fourth story from Hesse calls the two brothers John Water-spring and Caspar Water-spring, and begins thus. A certain king was firmly resolved that his daughter should not marry, and had a house built for her in the greatest solitude in a forest; and there she had to dwell, and never saw any strange man. Near the house however rose a wondrous spring of water, of which the maiden drank, and afterwards bore two boys who exactly resembled each other, and received those names. The rest of the story contains nothing that is new; after the combat with the dragon the defunct John Water-spring is restored to life by the sap of an oak which the ants were fetching for their dead who had been trampled down in the struggle. A fifth story only says by way of a beginning that a golden box, in which two beautiful boys are lying, falls down from heaven into the net which a fisherman has just thrown out. When they have grown up, they learn huntsmanship. The dragon is slain by a poisoned seed which the youth throws down his throat. The princess's betrothed tries to kill the youth by poisoned food, but his animals discover the treachery. Afterwards he is turned to stone by a witch, but the other brother compels her to tell him the means of restoring him to life again. Under a certain stone a wicked snake is lying, which is the cause of the whole enchantment. This snake he has to hew in pieces, roast them at the fire, and smear the petrified brother with the fat. On the other baud a sixth story, from Zwehrn, contains much that is peculiar, but it lacks this introduction, and has nothing in it about the two brothers. Three poor sisters support themselves by means of three goats, which their brother has to take charge of. One day when he is out he meets a forester with three fine dogs; and the youth is delighted with them, and exchanges one of the goats for a dog which is called "Stop him." When he goes home the sisters are full of lamentations; nevertheless he cannot restrain his desire, and next day exchanges another goat for another dog which is called "Seize him," and, on the third day, the third goat for a dog called "Iron and steel breaker." Then the huntsman gives him a gun, a hanger, a powder-horn, and a bag, into the bargain, and he goes out into the world; and a hare, a deer, and a bear become his servants. He goes into a forest, and to a small house wherein sits an aged woman. She says to him, "Do not stay here; this is the dwelling-place of twelve thieves, who will slay thee." Be replies, "I have no fear. I trust to my animals." Then he places the hare at the window, be deer and the bear behind the door of the room, and the three dogs in the stable. The robbers come, pretend to be friendly, and invite him to eat with them. They sit down to table; the robbers lay their knives with the points turned round towards themselves; the huntsman's is laid with the point turned from him, as it ought to be. The robbers say, "Why do you not lay your knife as we lay ours?" "I lay mine like a huntsman, but you lay yours like thieves!" They jump up, and are about to kill him, when the hare knocks at the window, and immediately the deer opens the door, and the three dogs rush in, and the bear 1ik and tear the twelve thieves to pieces. Then the youth goes onwards and reaches a town, which is hung on the first day with white, on the second with red, and on the third with black cloth. He kills the dragon by means of his three dogs, goes away for a year and three days, and then returns and receives the king's daughter. In other respects it agrees with our story, only here it ends with the wedding and the deliverance of the three animals. They urgently entreat the youth o cut off their heads, but for a long time he will not consent to do it; when at last he does, the hare is transformed into a beautiful princess, the deer into a queen, and the bear into a king. This story occurs in Lina's Story Book, by A. L. Grimm, pp. 191-311. The twins are called Gentle Spring and Strong Spring. They are Peter and Paul in Zingerle, p. 131, where also a second story is given, p. 260. In Pröhle's Kindermärchen, No. 5, we have Luck-bird and Pitch-bird. In Meier it is Hans and the Princess, Nos. 29 and 58; and there is another version, p. 306. In Wolf's Hausmärchen, p. 369. In Kuhn und Schwartz, No. 10. The story is widely spread. In India, compare Somadeva, 2, 142. In Danish, Etlar, p. 18. In Swedish, Cavallius, pp. 78, 85. In Flemish, the Wodana, p. 69. In Hungarian, Gaal, No. 9, and Stier, p. 67. In Wallachian, Schott, No. 11. The Merchant (1, 7) and The Doe, (1, 9), in the Pentamerone, also belong to this group, and so does the third story of the tenth night in Straparola; also the beginning of The Golden Bird in a French fairy-tale by Count Caylus (Cabinet des Fees, 24, 267), and in Bohemian, see The Twins, Gerle, 2. 2. Allied to this are The Gold Children (No. 85), and a Servian story given by Wuk, No. 29. The Persian saga of Lohrasp in Firdusi (Görres, 2, 142) has much affinity with the whole of it.
In this remarkable story two different lines are to be indicated. In the first place the saga of Sigurd is visible in it. The incident of putting the newly-born children in the water, with which the other stories begin, coincides with the tradition in the Wilkinasage, according to which Siegfried was laid by his mother in a little glass coffer that rolled into the river and was carried away (compare the story of The Golden Mountain). And now comes the cunning and wicked goldsmith, the Reigen of the Norse saga; then the talking-bird which is so rich in gold, and is at the same time the prophetic bird, and the worm Fafnir; and then the eating the creature's heart, which gives gold and empire (wisdom), which the smith strives to compass with much cunning, but which Sigurd accomplishes. The instruction in woodcraft corresponds with the instruction which Reigen gives Sigurd. The faithful serving-animals correspond with the horse Grane. Then follows the deliverance of the maiden from the dragon, the maiden being the Kriemhild of the German lay; in the Norse it is by leaping over a wall of flames that the hero wins her.
Yet he leaves her, as Sigurd Brünhild. The brother who has the same form as himself is Gunnar, his brother in arms, with whom Sigurd also exchanges forms; even the placing the swords is there, only in a different connection. Just as the larger and more powerful beasts always entrust the charge to the smaller, until at last the responsibility falls on the poor hare, there is a similar chain of descent, in the more ancient story Touti Nameh (Kosegarten from Iken, p. 227) in which the sea-animals and monsters always push off a task upon one still smaller, until at last it is fixed on the frog.
The story also contains the saga of Die Blutsbrüder. It is thoroughly elucidated in our edition of Der arme Heinrich, pp. 183-197. Both children are born strangely and at the same time. The token at their separation, of the knife stuck into a tree, corresponds with the golden cup of Amicus and Amelius. Originally perhaps it was the knife with which the veins were punctured in order to drink brothership in arms. Compare the notes to the story of The Water of Life (No. 97). The one takes the other's place at home and with his wife, but he separates himself from her in their couch by a sword. The illness which attacks one of them, and drives him away from human society, is here the enchantment of the witch, who turns him to stone, an enchantment from which the other brother frees him. For this part of the story see The Burning Stag, in Colshorn, No. 74. Compare the story of Faithful John, No. 6, and one from Cornwall. (See further on.) As the one brother fights against the dragon, Thor in the northern myth (both in the Völuspâ and in the Later Edda) fights against the Mitgard Snake at the end of the world. He kills it, indeed, but falls dead on the ground with the poison which the snake has spat out against him.
[Prince Bahman gave Princess Perizade a knife, the blade of which would inform her of his health; when it appeared stained with blood he would be dead. See The Thousand and One Nights story of the Three Sisters.-TR.]