THE GOOSE-GIRL
BY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM
A
N old Queen had a beautiful daughter, who was betrothed to a young Prince of a neighboring kingdom. When the time for the marriage came near, it was arranged that she was to travel to his country accompanied only by her waiting-maid. Her mother, the Queen, provided her with many costly robes and jewels, such as a Princess about to marry the Prince of a great kingdom would require. She also gave her a horse named Falada, which had the gift of speech.
Just before the Princess started on her journey, the Queen pricked her finger, and dropped three drops of blood upon a handkerchief. "Take this," she told her daughter, "and guard it carefully. It will serve you when in danger."
The Princess took the handkerchief, and embraced her mother. They shed many tears at parting, but at last the Princess mounted the wonderful horse and started on the journey. When she and the maid had ridden for some time, they came to a stream of clear, cold water. Being very thirsty, the Princess asked the maid to bring her a drink in the golden cup. The maid insolently replied that she might get the water for herself, as she did not intend to serve her any longer. The Princess was so thirsty that she dismounted and drank from the stream. As she bent over to place her lips to the water, she said to herself, "O, Heaven! what am I to do?" The three drops of blood upon the handkerchief made answer:
"If she knew this, for thy sake
Thy queen-mother's heart would break."
When the Princess had slaked her thirst, she mounted her horse and resumed her journey, and being gentle and forgiving, she soon forgot the maid's rudeness. The sun shone on them fiercely, and the road was filled with dust, so that they had not gone far before the Princess again became thirsty. When they came to a brook, she called to the maid:
"Pray fetch me a drink in my golden cup."
The maid's answer was even more insolent than before. "If you are thirsty, get down and drink. I do not mean to serve you any longer."
The Princess's throat was parched, so she dismounted and drank from the stream, at the same time murmuring, "O, Heaven! what am I to do?" The three drops of blood again replied:
"If she knew this, for thy sake
Thy queen-mother's heart would break."
As she raised her head from the water, the handkerchief bearing the three drops of blood fell unnoticed from her dress and floated down the stream. The maid, however, had observed the loss with no small satisfaction. Without the three drops of blood, the Princess was completely in her power, and the traitorous servant immediately took advantage of her helplessness. She obliged the Princess to disrobe and exchange the royal dress for her own mean one. After making her swear, on fear of death, never to betray the secret, the maid mounted Falada and left her own horse for the Princess.
Falada bore the false Princess to the palace; but the horse had noted all, and bided his time. The Prince came out to meet them, and took the impostor bride to the royal chamber, while the true one was left waiting in the court below. Seeing her there, forlorn and beautiful, the old King inquired of the bride who it was she had thus left outside.
"Only a woman who kept me company," she carelessly replied. "Give her some work to content her."
The King could think of nothing suitable for such as she; but lacking something better to offer, sent her to help the boy Curdken herd geese. So it happened that the real bride became a goose-girl.
The false bride at length remembered Falada's gift of speech and became alarmed lest he should betray the secret of her treachery. She told the Prince that the horse which had brought her was vicious and had given her much trouble, and that she desired his head cut off immediately. The Prince at once granted her request, and gave orders that Falada be beheaded.
When the real Princess heard the sad news, she dried her tears and sought the executioner. She could not save her dear Falada from his doom, but with the aid of a gold piece she persuaded the slaughterer to nail his head over the great gate through which she had to pass on her way to and from the goose-pasture.
The next morning, when she and Curdken drove their geese under the gate, the Princess wrung her hands and cried:
"O Falada, hang you there?"
And the head replied to her:
"'Tis Falada, Princess fair.
If she knew this, for thy sake
Thy queen-mother's heart would break."
When she had driven the geese to the field, she sat down and loosed her golden hair. Curdken, seeing it shining in the sun, caught at it to pull some out. Whereupon she sang:
"Wind, blow gently here, I pray,
And take Curdken's hat away.
Keep him chasing o'er the wold,
While I bind my hair of gold."
When Curdken had recovered his hat and returned to where she was sitting, her hair was plaited, and he could get none of it. This made him very angry all day.
The next morning they again came to the gate where Falada's head was nailed, and the goose-girl said as before:
"O Falada, hang you there?"
And the head as before replied to her:
"'Tis Falada, Princess fair.
If she knew this, for thy sake
Thy queen-mother's heart would break."
Again she passed on with the geese and Curdken under the gate, and when she came to the field where they were herded, sat down and loosed her hair. The sun shone upon it, and Curdken again caught at its golden threads. The goose-girl called to the wind:
"Wind, blow gently here, I pray,
And take Curdken's hat away.
Keep him chasing o'er the wold,
While I bind my hair of gold."
The wind did as she asked, and Curdken ran so far for his hat that when he returned the golden hair was plaited and bound about her head.
Curdken was sullen all day long, and when at night they had driven the geese home, he complained to the King:
"The goose-girl so teases me that I will no longer herd the geese with her."
When asked how she had offended, he told the King that she spoke every morning to the horse's head that was over the gate, and that the head replied and called her Princess. He also related how the goose-girl sat in the sun and combed her golden hair, while she sent him chasing for his hat.
The King bade Curdken go the next day with his flock as usual. When morning came the King arose early and stood in the shadow of the town-gate. He heard the goose-girl say, "O Falada, hang you there?" and he heard the head make answer:
"'Tis Falada, Princess fair.
If she knew this, for thy sake
Thy queen-mother's heart would break."
Then the King followed on to the field, where he hid behind a bush and watched them herd the geese. After a time the goose-girl undid her glittering hair; and as Curdken snatched at it, the King heard her say:
"Wind, blow gently here, I pray,
And take Curdken's hat away.
Keep him chasing o'er the wold,
While I bind my hair of gold."
The wind came at her bidding, and carried the herd-boy's hat across the fields; while she combed the shining hair and made it fast.
The King quietly returned to the palace, and that night he sent for the goose-girl. He told her he had watched her at the gate and in the field, and asked her the meaning of her strange actions.
"O King! I may not tell; for I have sworn, if my life were spared, to speak to no one of my woes," she replied.
The King pleaded with her, but she was firm; and at last he told her to tell her troubles to the iron stove, since she would not confide in him. When he had left her, she fell upon her knees before the stove and poured forth her sorrows:
"Here am I, the daughter of a Queen, doomed to the lowly service of a goose-girl, while the false waiting-maid steals my treasures and my bridegroom."
She sobbed and wept, until the King, who had stood outside and heard all, came in and bade her dry her eyes. He ordered her arrayed in royal robes; and then she appeared as lovely as the sun. The Prince was summoned; and the old King told him the story, and showed him the true bride. She was so beautiful that the Prince knelt at her feet in admiration, and knew her to be the real Princess.
A great banquet was given, to which many guests were invited. On one side of the Prince sat the false bride, and on the other the real Princess, who was so radiantly lovely that the maid did not know her. The King at last asked the waiting-maid what punishment should be dealt to a traitor.
Not knowing that she was passing sentence on herself, the waiting-maid's answer was as cruel as she was wicked. Said she:
"Let her be put into a barrel, and drawn by two white horses, up hill and down, till she is dead."
When the wicked maid had been punished according to her own decree, the Princess was wedded to the young Prince, and reigned with him for many happy years over the kingdom where she had first served as a goose-girl.
