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Tas
once an old castle in the midst ohere wf a large and dense
forest, and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all alone.
In the day-time she changed herself into a cat or a screech-owl,
but in the evening she took her proper shape again as a human
being. She could lure wild beasts and birds to her, and then she
killed and boiled and roasted them. If anyone came within one
hundred paces of the castle he was obliged to stand still, and
could not stir from the place until she bade him be free. But
whenever an innocent maiden came within this circle, she changed
her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker-work cage, and
carried the cage into a room in the castle. She had about seven
thousand cages of rare birds in the castle.
Now,
there was once a maiden who was called Jorinda, who was fairer
than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had
promised to marry each other. They were still in the days of
betrothal, and their greatest happiness was being together. One
day in order that they might be able to talk together in peace
they went for a walk in the forest.
"Take
care," said Joringel, "that you do not go too near the
castle."
It
was a beautiful evening. The sun shone brightly between the
trunks of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and the
turtle-doves sang mournfully upon the beech trees.
Jorinda
wept now and then. She sat down in the sunshine and was
sorrowful. Joringel was sorrowful too. They were as sad as if
they were about to die. Then they looked around them, and were
quite at a loss, for they did not know by which way they should
go home. The sun was still half above the mountain and half
under. Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls
of the castle close at hand. He was horror-stricken and filled
with deadly fear. Jorinda was singing,
"My
little bird, with the necklace red, Sings sorrow, sorrow,
sorrow, He sings that the dove must soon be dead, Sings
sorrow, sor - jug, jug, jug."
Joringel
looked for Jorinda. She was changed into a nightingale, and sang,
jug, jug, jug. A screech-owl with glowing eyes flew three times
round about her, and three times cried, to-whoo, to-whoo,
to-whoo.
Joringel
could not move. He stood there like a stone, and could neither
weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot. The sun had now set. The
owl flew into the thicket, and directly afterwards there came out
of it a crooked old woman, yellow and lean, with large red eyes
and a hooked nose, the point of which reached to her chin. She
muttered to herself, caught the nightingale, and took it away in
her hand. Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot.
The nightingale was gone.
At
last the woman came back, and said in a hollow voice, "Greet
you, Zachiel. If the moon shines on the cage, Zachiel, let him
loose at once."
Then
Joringel was freed. He fell on his knees before the woman and
begged that she would give him back his Jorinda, but she said
that he should never have her again, and went away. He called, he
wept, he lamented, but all in vain, "Hooh, what is to become
of me?"
Joringel
went away, and at last came to a strange village, where he kept
sheep for a long time. He often walked round and round the
castle, but not too near to it. At last he dreamt one night that
he found a blood-red flower, in the middle of which was a
beautiful large pearl, that he picked the flower and went with it
to the castle, and that everything he touched with the flower was
freed from enchantment. He also dreamt that by means of it he
recovered his Jorinda. In the morning, when he awoke, he began to
seek over hill and dale for such a flower. He sought until the
ninth day, and then, early in the morning, he found the blood-red
flower. In the middle of it there was a large dew-drop, as big as
the finest pearl.
Day
and night he journeyed with this flower to the castle. When he
was within a hundred paces of it he was not held fast, but walked
on to the door. Joringel was full of joy. He touched the door
with the flower, and it sprang open. He walked in through the
courtyard, and listened for the sound of the birds. At last he
heard it. He went on and found the room from whence it came, and
there the witch was feeding the birds in the seven thousand
cages.
When
she saw Joringel she was angry, very angry, and scolded and spat
poison and gall at him, but she could not come within two paces
of him. He did not take any notice of her, but went and looked at
the cages with the birds. But there were many hundred
nightingales, how was he to find his Jorinda again. Just then he
saw the old woman quietly take away a cage with a bird in it, and
go towards the door.
Swiftly
he sprang towards her, touched the cage with the flower, and also
the old woman. She could now no longer bewitch anyone. And
Jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck, and she
was as beautiful as ever. Then all the other birds were turned
into maidens again, and he went home with his Jorinda, and they
lived happily together for a long time.
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