The three little Crones, each with Something big
There was once a king’s son and a king’s daughter who dearly loved each other. The young princess was good and fair, and well spoken of by all, but her disposition was more inclined to pleasure and dissipation than to handiworks and domestic occupations. To the old queen this appeared very wrong, and she said she would have no one for a daughter-in-law that was not as skilled in such matters as she herself had been in her youth. She therefore opposed the prince’s marriage in all sorts of ways.
As the queen would not recall her words, the prince went to her and said, it would be well to make a trial whether the princess were not as skilful as the queen herself. This seemed to every one a very rash proposal, seeing that the prince’s mother was a very diligent, laborious person, and span and sewed and wove both night and day, so that no one ever saw her like. The prince, however, carried his point; the fair princess was sent into the maiden’s bower, and the queen sent her a pound of flax to spin. But the flax was to be spun ere dawn of day, otherwise the damsel was never more to think of the prince for a husband.
When left alone the princess found herself very ill at ease; for she well knew that she could not spin the queen’s flax, and yet trembled at the thought of losing the prince, who was so dear to her. She therefore wandered about the apartment and wept, incessantly wept. At this moment the door was opened very softly, and there stepped in a little, little woman of singular appearance and yet more singular manners. The little woman had enormously large feet, at which every one who saw her must be wonderstruck. She greeted the princess with: “Peace be with you!” “And peace with you!” answered the princess. The old woman then asked: “Why is the fair damsel so sorrowful to-night?” The princess answered: “I may well be sorrowful. The queen has commanded me to spin a pound of flax: if I have not completed it before dawn, I lose the young prince whom I love so dearly.” The old woman then said: “Be of good cheer, fair maiden; if there is nothing else, I can help you; but then you must grant me a request which I will name.” At these words the princess was overjoyed, and asked what it was the old woman desired. “I am called,” she said, “Mother Bigfoot; and I require for my aid no other reward than to be present at your wedding. I have not been at a wedding since the queen your mother-in-law stood as bride.” The princess readily granted her desire, and they parted. The princess then lay down to sleep, but could not close her eyes the whole livelong night.
Early in the morning, before dawn, the door was opened, and the little woman again entered. She approached the king’s daughter and handed to her a bundle of yarn, as white as snow and as fine as a cobweb, saying, “See! such beautiful yarn I have not spun since I span for the queen, when she was about to be married; but that was long, long ago.” Having so spoken the little woman disappeared, and the princess fell into a refreshing slumber, but she had not slept long when she was awakened by the old queen, who was standing by her bed, and who asked her whether the flax were all spun. The princess said that it was, and handed the yarn to her. The queen must needs appear content, but the princess could not refrain from observing that her apparent satisfaction did not proceed from good-will.
Before the day was over, the queen said she would put the princess to yet another proof. For this purpose she sent the yarn to the maiden-bower together with a yarn-roll and other implements, and ordered the princess to weave it into a web; but which must be ready before sunrise; if not, the damsel must never more think of the young prince.
When the princess was alone, she again felt sad at heart; for she knew that she could not weave the queen’s yarn, and yet less reconcile herself to the thought of losing the prince to whom she was so dear. She therefore wandered about the apartment and wept bitterly. At that moment the door was opened softly, softly, and in stepped a very little woman, of singular figure and still more singular manners. The little woman had an enormously large back, so that every one who saw her must be struck with astonishment. She, too, greeted the princess with: “Peace be with you!” and received for answer: “Peace with you!” The old woman said: “Why is the fair damsel so sad and sorrowful?” “I may well be sorrowful,” answered the princess. “The queen has commanded me to weave all this yarn into a web; and if I have not completed it by the morning before sunrise, I shall lose the prince, who loves me so dearly.” The woman then said: “Be comforted, fair damsel; if it is nothing more, I will help you. But then you must consent to one condition, which I will name to you.” At these words the princess was highly delighted, and asked what the condition might be. “I am called Mother Bigback, and I desire no other reward than to be at your wedding. I have not been to any wedding since the queen your mother-in-law stood as bride.” The king’s daughter readily granted this request, and the little woman departed. The princess then lay down to sleep, but was unable to close her eyes the whole night.
In the morning, before daybreak, the door was opened and the little woman entered. She approached the princess, and handed to her a web white as snow and close as a skin, so that its like was never seen. The old woman said: “See! such even threads I have never woven since I wove for the queen, when she was about to be married; but that was long, long ago.” The woman then disappeared, and the princess fell into a short slumber, but from which she was roused by the old queen, who stood by her bed, and inquired whether the web were ready. The princess told her that it was, and handed to her the beautiful piece of weaving. The queen must now appear content for the second time; but the princess could easily see that she was not so from good-will.
The king’s daughter now flattered herself that she should be put to no further trial; but the queen was of a different opinion; for she shortly after sent the web down to the maiden-bower with the message, that the princess should make it into shirts for the prince. The shirts were to be ready before sunrise, otherwise the damsel must never hope to have the young prince for a husband.
When the princess was alone, she felt sad at heart; for she knew that she could not sew the queen’s web, and yet could not think of losing the king’s son, to whom she was so dear. She therefore wandered about the chamber, and shed a flood of tears. At this moment, the door was softly, softly opened, and in stepped a very little woman of most extraordinary appearance and still more extraordinary manners. The little woman had an enormously large thumb, so that every one who saw it must be wonderstruck. She also greeted the princess with: “Peace be with you,” and likewise received for answer: “Peace with you.” She then asked the young damsel why she was so sad and lonely. “I may well be sad,” answered the princess. “The queen has commanded me to make this web into shirts for the king’s son; and if I have not finished them to-morrow before sunrise, I shall lose my beloved prince, who holds me so dear.” The woman then said: “Be of good cheer, fair maiden; if it is nothing more, I can help you. But then you must agree to a condition, which I will mention.” At these words the princess was overjoyed, and asked the little woman what it was she wished. “I am,” answered she, “called Mother Bigthumb, and I desire no other reward than that I may be present at your wedding. I have not been at a wedding since the queen your mother-in-law stood as bride.” The princess willingly assented to this condition, and the little woman departed. But the princess lay down to sleep, and slept so soundly that she did not dream even once of her dear prince.
Early in the morning, before the sun had risen, the door was opened, and the little woman entered. She approached the bed, awakened the princess, and gave her some shirts that were sewed and stitched so curiously that their like was never seen. The old woman said: “See! so beautifully as this I have not sewn since I sewed for the queen, when she was about to stand as bride. But that was long, long ago.” With these words the little woman disappeared; for the queen was then at the door, being just come to inquire whether the shirts were ready. The king’s daughter said that they were, and handed her the beautiful work. At the sight of them the queen was so enraged that her eyes flashed with fury. She said: “Well! take him then. I could never have imagined that thou wast so clever as thou art.” She then went her way, slamming the door after her.
The king’s son and the king’s daughter were now to be united, as the queen had promised, and great preparations were made for the wedding. But the joy of the princess was not without alloy, when she thought of the singular guests that were to be present. When some time had elapsed, and the wedding was being celebrated in the good old fashion, yet not one of the little old women appeared; although the bride looked about in every direction. At length, when it was growing late, and the guests were going to table, the princess discerned the three little women, as they sat in a corner of the dining hall, at a table by themselves. At the same moment the king stepped up to them, and inquired who they were, as he had never seen them before. The eldest of the three answered: “I am called Mother Bigfoot, and have such large feet because I have been obliged to sit spinning so much in my time.” “Oho!” said the king, “if such be the consequence, my son’s wife shall never spin another thread.” Then turning to the second little woman, he inquired the cause of her uncommon appearance. The old woman answered: “I am called Mother Bigback, and am so broad behind because I have been obliged to sit weaving so much in my time.” “Oho!” said the king, “then my son’s wife shall weave no more.” Lastly, turning to the third old woman, he asked her name; when Mother Bigthumb, rising from her seat, told him that she had got so large a thumb because she had sewed so much in her time. “Oho!” said the king, “then my son’s wife shall never sew another stitch.” Thus the fair princess obtained the king’s son, and also escaped from spinning, and weaving, and sewing for all the rest of her life.
When the wedding was over, the three little women went their way, and no one knew whither they went, nor whence they came. The prince lived happy and content with his consort, and all passed on smoothly and peaceably; only the princess was not so industrious as her strict mother-in-law.
The fairies are always glad when people do not find out who it is that has benefited them,—for of course Mother Bigfoot, Mother Bigback, and Mother Bigthumb were really fairies in disguise,—and were therefore pleased at the end of the Norwegian fairy’s tale.
“Now,” said Titania, and of course her word was law, “I think I should like a song. Nymphidia, sing to us.” Nymphidia at once stood up on the stool and all the Queen’s maids of honour stood around it as they sang
