“Well!” said they, “if you will set us free, you may keep your life; for you can if you choose.”
“Yes; only tell me”, said the Princess, “how it can be done, and I’ll do it, whatever it be.”
“You must pick thistle-down”, said the Princes, “and you must card it, and spin it, and weave it; and after you have done that, you must cut out and make twelve coats, and twelve shirts, and twelve neckerchiefs, one for each of us, and while you do that, you must neither talk, nor laugh, nor weep. If you can do that, we are free.”
“But where shall I ever get thistle-down enough for so many neckerchiefs, and shirts, and coats?” asked Snow-white and Rosy-red.
“We’ll soon show you”, said the Princes; and so they took her with them to a great wide moor, where there stood such a crop of thistles, all nodding and nodding in the breeze, and the down all floating and glistening like gossamers through the air in the sunbeams. The Princess had never seen such a quantity of thistledown in her life, and she began to pluck and gather it as fast and as well as she could; and when she got home at night she set to work carding and spinning yarn from the down. So she went on a long long time, picking, and carding, and spinning, and all the while keeping the Princes’ house, cooking, and making their beds. At evening home they came, flapping and whirring like wild ducks, and all night they were Princes, but in the morning off they flew again, and were wild ducks the whole day.
But now it happened once, when she was out on the moor to pick thistle-down—and if I don’t mistake, it was the very last time she was to go thither—it happened that the young King who ruled that land was out hunting, and came riding across the moor, and saw her. So he stopped there and wondered who the lovely lady could be that walked along the moor picking thistle-down, and he asked her her name, and when he could get no answer, he was still more astonished; and at last he liked her so much, that nothing would do but he must take her home to his castle and marry her. So he ordered his servants to take her and put her up on his horse. Snow-white and Rosy-red, she wrung her hands, and made signs to them, and pointed to the bags in which her work was, and when the King saw she wished to have them with her, he told his men to take up the bags behind them. When they had done that the Princess came to herself, little by little, for the King was both a wise man and a handsome man too, and he was as soft and kind to her as a doctor. But when they got home to the palace, and the old Queen, who was his stepmother, set eyes on Snow-white and Rosy-red, she got so cross and jealous of her because she was so lovely, that she said to the king:
“Can’t you see now, that this thing whom you have picked up, and whom you are going to marry, is a witch. Why? she can’t either talk, or laugh, or weep!”
But the King didn’t care a pin for what she said, but held on with the wedding, and married Snow-white and Rosy-red and they lived in great joy and glory; but she didn’t forget to go on sewing at her shirts.
So when the year was almost out, Snow-white and Rosy-red brought a Prince into the world; and then the old Queen was more spiteful and jealous than ever, and at dead of night, she stole in to Snow-white and Rosy-red, while she slept, and took away her babe, and threw it into a pitful of snakes. After that she cut Snow-white and Rosy-red in her finger, and smeared the blood over her mouth, and went straight to the King.
“Now come and see”, she said, “what sort of a thing you have taken for your Queen; here she has eaten up her own babe.”