mud/content/library/grimm/089_the_goose_girl.txt

The Goose-Girl

There was once upon a time an old Queen whose husband had been dead for
many years, and she had a beautiful daughter. When the princess grew up
she was betrothed to a prince who lived at a great distance. When the
time came for her to be married, and she had to journey forth into the
distant kingdom, the aged Queen packed up for her many costly vessels
of silver and gold, and trinkets also of 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
thou hast brought with thee 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 thy
mother knew, her heart would break.” 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,
drink as you can, 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 thy
mother knew this, her heart would break.” 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 thee” 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 any one 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 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 favour.” 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 good 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 tender mother knew,
Her heart would surely 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 tender mother knew,
Her heart would surely 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 flock, there is a sorry horse’s head on the
wall, and she says to it,

“Alas, Falada, hanging there!”


And the head replies,

“Alas, young Queen how ill you fare!
If this your tender mother knew,
Her heart would surely 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 you
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 thou wilt not
tell me anything, tell thy 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
my mother did but know that, her heart would break.”

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 sometime 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 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 an one 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 thou,” said the aged King, “and thou hast pronounced
thine own sentence, and thus shall it be done unto thee.” 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.