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but
so proud and haughty withal that no suitor was good enough for
her. She sent away one after the other, and ridiculed them as
well.
Once
the king made a great feast and invited thereto, from far and
near, all the young men likely to marry. They were all marshalled
in a row according to their rank and standing. First came the
kings, then the grand-dukes, then the princes, the earls, the
barons, and the gentry. Then the king's daughter was led through
the ranks, but to each one she had some objection to make. One
was too fat, the wine-barrel, she said. Another was too tall,
long and thin has little in. The third was too short, short and
thick is never quick. The fourth was too pale, as pale as death.
The fifth too red, a fighting cock. The sixth was not straight
enough, a green log dried behind the stove. So she had
something to say against each one, but she made herself
especially merry over a good king who stood quite high up in the
row, and whose chin had grown a little crooked. Look, she cried
and laughed, he has a chin like a thrush's beak. And from that
time he got the name of king thrushbeard.
But
the old king, when he saw that his daugher did nothing but mock
the people, and despised all the suitors who were gathered there,
was very angry, and swore that she should have for her husband
the very first beggar that came to his doors. A few
days afterwards a fiddler came and sang beneath the windows,
trying to earn a few pennies. When the king heard him he said,
let him come up. So the fiddler came in, in his dirty, ragged
clothes, and sang before the king and his daughter, and when he
had ended he asked for a trifling gift. The king said, your song
has pleased me so well that I will give you my daughter there, to
wife.
The
king's daughter shuddered, but the king said, I have taken an
oath to give you to the very first beggar-man and I will keep it.
All she could say was in vain. The priest was brought, and she
had to let herself be wedded to the fiddler on the spot. When
that was done the king said, now it is not proper for you, a
beggar-woman, to stay any longer in my palace, you may just go
away with your husband. The beggar-man led her out by the hand,
and she was obliged to walk away on foot with him. When they came
to a large forest she asked, to whom does that beautiful forest
belong. It belongs to king thrushbeard. If you had taken him, it
would have been yours. Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I had but
taken king thrushbeard. Afterwards they came to a
meadow, and she asked again, to whom does this beautiful green
meadow belong. It belongs to king thrushbeard. If you had taken
him, it would have been yours. Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I
had but taken king thrushbeard. Then they came to a
large town, and she asked again, to whom does this fine large
town belong. It belongs to king thrushbeard. If you had taken
him, it would have been yours. Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I
had but taken king thrushbeard. It does not please me, said the
fiddler, to hear you always wishing for another husband. Am I not
good enough for you. At last they came to a very little
hut, and she said, oh goodness. What a small house. To whom does
this miserable, tiny hovel belong. The fiddler answered, that is
my house and yours, where we shall live together.
She
had to stoop in order to go in at the low door. Where are the
servants, said the king's daughter. What servants, answered the
beggar-man. You must yourself do what you wish to have done. Just
make a fire at once, and set on water to cook my supper, I am
quite tired. But the king's daughter knew nothing about lighting
fires or cooking, and the beggar-man had to lend a hand himself
to get anything fairly done. When they had finished their scanty
meal they went to bed. But he forced her to get up quite early in
the morning in order to look after the house. For a few
days they lived in this way as well as might be, and came to the
end of all their provisions. Then the man said, wife, we cannot
go on any longer eating and drinking here and earning nothing.
You must make baskets. He went out, cut some willows, and brought
them home. Then she began to make baskets, but the tough willows
wounded her delicate hands. I see that this will not
do, said the man. You had better spin, perhaps you can do that
better. She sat down and tried to spin, but the hard thread soon
cut her soft fingers so that the blood ran down. See, said the
man, you are fit for no sort of work. I have made a bad bargain
with you. Now I will try to make a business with pots and
earthenware. You must sit in the market-place and sell the ware.
Alas, thought she, if any of the people from my father's kingdom
come to the market and see me sitting there, selling, how they
will mock me. But it was of no use, she had to yield unless she
chose to die of hunger. For the first time she succeeded well,
for the people were glad to buy the woman's wares because she was
good-looking, and they paid her what she asked. Many even gave
her the money and left the pots with her as well. So they lived
on what she had earned as long as it lasted, then the husband
bought a lot of new crockery. With this she sat down at the
corner of the market-place, and set it out round about her ready
for sale. But suddenly there came a drunken hussar galloping
along, and he rode right amongst the pots so that they were all
broken into a thousand bits. She began to weep, and did now know
what to do for fear. Alas, what will happen to me, cried she.
What will my husband say to this. She ran home and told him of
the misfortune. Who would seat herself at a corner of the
market-place with crockery, said the man. Leave off crying, I see
very well that you cannot do any ordinary work, so I have been to
our king's palace and have asked whether they cannot find a place
for a kitchen-maid, and they have promised me to take you. In
that way you will get your food for nothing. The king's
daughter was now a kitchen-maid, and had to be at the cook's beck
and call, and do the dirtiest work. In both her pockets she
fastened a little jar, in which she took home her share of the
leavings, and upon this they lived. It happened that the wedding
of the king's eldest son was to be celebrated, so the poor woman
went up and placed herself by the door of the hall to look on.
When all the candles were lit, and people, each more beautiful
than the other, entered, and all was full of pomp and splendor,
she thought of her lot with a sad heart, and cursed the pride and
haughtiness which had humbled her and brought her to so
great poverty. The smell of the delicious dishes which
were being taken in and out reached her, and now and then the
servants threw her a few morsels of them. These she put in her
jars to take home.
All
at once the king's son entered, clothed in velvet and silk, with
gold chains about his neck. And when he saw the beautiful woman
standing by the door he seized her by the hand, and would have
danced with her. But she refused and shrank with fear, for she
saw that it was king thrushbeard, her suitor whom she had driven
away with scorn. Her struggles were of no avail, he drew her into
the hall. But the string by which her pockets were hung broke,
the pots fell down, the soup ran out, and the scraps were
scattered all about. And when the people saw it, there arose
general laughter and derision, and she was so ashamed that she
would rather have been a thousand fathoms below the ground. She
sprang to the door and would have run away, but on the stairs a
man caught her and brought her back. And when she looked at him
it was king thrushbeard again. He said to her kindly, do not be
afraid, I and the fiddler who has been living with you in that
wretched hovel are one. For love of you I disguised myself so.
And I also was the hussar who rode through your crockery. This
was all done to humble your proud spirit, and to punish you for
the insolence with which you mocked me.
Then
she wept bitterly and said, I have done great wrong, and am not
worthy to be your wife. But he said, be comforted, the evil days
are past. Now we will celebrate our wedding. Then the
maids-in-waiting came and put on her the most splendid clothing,
and her father and his whole court came and wished her happiness
in her marriage with king thrushbeard, and the joy now began in
earnest. I wish you and I had been there too.
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