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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 you have
brought with you 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
this your mother knew, her heart would break in two."
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, get it yourself, 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
this your mother knew, her heart would break in two."
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 you," 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 anyone 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 noticed 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 favor."
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 goood 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 mother knew Her
heart would 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 mother knew Her
heart would 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 block, there is a horse's head on the wall, and
she says to it
"'Alas,
Falada, hanging there.'
"And
the head answers,
"'Alas,
young queen, how ill you fare. If this your mother knew Her
heart would 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 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 you will not tell me anything, tell
your 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 this my mother knew, her heart would break in
two."
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 former 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
punishment 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 a person 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 you," said the aged king, "and you have pronounced
your own sentence, and thus shall it be done unto you." 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.
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