He rode home, but the song had touched his heart so deeply that he went into the forest every day to listen to it. Once, when he was hidden behind a tree, he saw a Witch come to the tower and call out—-
‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.’
Then Rapunzel lowered her plaits of hair and the Witch climbed up to her.
‘If that is the ladder by which one ascends,’ he thought, ‘I will try my luck myself.’ And the next day, when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried—
‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.’
The hair fell down at once, and the King’s son climbed up by it.
At first Rapunzel was terrified, for she had never set eyes on a man before, but the King’s son talked to her kindly, and told her that his heart had been so deeply touched by her song that he had no peace, and he was obliged to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked if she would have him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, ‘He will love me better than old Mother Gotheh’ So she said, ‘Yes,’ and laid her hand in his. She said, ‘I will gladly go with you, but I do not know how I am to get down from this tower. When you come, will you bring a skein of silk with you every time. I will twist it into a ladder, and when it is long enough I will descend by it, and you can take me away with you on your horse.’
She arranged with him that he should come and see her every evening, for the old Witch came in the daytime.
The Witch discovered nothing, till suddenly Rapunzel said to her, ‘Tell me, Mother Gothel, how can it be that you are so much heavier to draw up than the young Prince who will be here before long?’
‘Oh, you wicked child, what do you say? I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have deceived me.’ In her rage she seized Rapunzel’s beautiful hair, twisted it twice round her left hand, snatched up a pair of shears and cut off the plaits, which fell to the ground. She was so merciless that she took poor Rapunzel away into a wilderness, where she forced her to live in the greatest grief and misery.
In the evening of the day on which she had banished Rapimze), the Witch fastened the plaits which she had cut off to the hook by the window, and when the Prince came and called—
‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.’
she lowered the hair. The Prince climbed up, but there he found, not his beloved Rapunzel, but the Witch, who looked at him with angry and wicked eyes.
‘Ah I ‘she cried mockingly, ‘you have come to fetch your ladylove, but the pretty bird is no longer in her nest; and she can sing no more, for the cat has seized her, and it will scratch your own eyes out too, Rapunzel is lost to you; you will never see her again.’
The Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair be sprang out of the window. He was not killed, but his eyes were scratched out by the thorns among which he fell. He wandered about blind in the wood, and had nothing but roots and berries to eat, He did nothing but weep and lament over the loss of his beloved wife Rapunzel. In this way he wandered, about for some years, till at last he reached the wilderness where Rapunzel had been living in great poverty with the twins who had been born to her, a boy and a girl.
He heard a voice which seemed very familiar to him, and he went towards it. Rapunzel knew him at once, and fell weeping upon his neck. Two of her tears fell upon his eyes, and they immediately grew quite clear, and he could see as well as ever.
He took her to his kingdom, where he was received with joy, and they lived long and happily together.
Foundlingbird
There was once a Forester who went into the woods to hunt, and he heard a cry like that of a little child. He followed the sound, and at last came to a big tree where a tiny child was sitting high up on one of the top branches. The mother had gone to sleep under the tree, and a bird of prey, seeing the child on her lap, had flown down and carried it off in its beak to the top of the tree.
The Forester climbed the tree and brought down the child, thinking to himself, ‘I will take it home, and bring it up with my own little Lina.’
So he took it home, and the two children were brought up together. The foundling was called Foundlingbird, because it had been found by a bird. Foundlingbird and Lina were so fond of each other, that they could not bear to be out of each other’s sight.
Now the Forester had an old Cook, who one evening took two pails, and began carrying water. She did not go once but many times, backwards and forwards to the well.
Lina saw this, and said: ‘Dear me, Sauna, why are you carrying so much water?’
‘If thou wilt not tell any one, I will tell thee why.’
Lina said no, she would not tell any one.
So then the Cook said: ‘To-morrow morning early, when the Forester goes out hunting, I am going to boil the water, and when it bubbles in the kettle, I am going to throw Foundlingbird into it to boil him.’
Next morning the Forester got up very early, and went out hunting, leaving the children still in bed.
She did not go once but many times, backwards and forwards to the well.
Then said Lina to Foundlingbird: ‘Never forsake me, and I will never forsake thee.’
And Foundlingbird answered: ‘I will never forsake thee.’
Then Lina said; ‘I must tell thee now. Old Sanna brought in so many pails of water last night, that I asked her what she was doing. She said if I would not tell anybody, she would tell me what it was for. So I promised not to tell anybody, and she said that in the morning, when the father had gone out hunting, she would fill the kettle, and when it was boiling, she would throw thee into it and boil thee, Now we must get up quickly, dress ourselves, and run away.’
So the children got up, dressed quickly, and left the house.
When the water boiled, the Cook went to their bedroom to fetch Foundlingbird to throw him into it. Rut when she entered the room, and went up to the bed, both the children were gone. She was terribly frightened, and said to herself: ‘Whatever am I to say to the Forester when he comes home and finds the children gone? We must hurry after them and get them back.’ So the Cook despatched three men-servants to catch up the children and bring them back.
The children were sitting near a wood, and when they saw the three men a great way off, Lina said to Foundlingbird, ‘Do not forsake me, and I will never forsake thee,’
And Foundlingbird answered, ‘I will never forsake thee as long as I live.’
Then Lina said, ‘Thou must turn into a rosebush, and I will be a rosebud upon it.’
When the three men reached the wood, they found nothing but a rosebush with one rosebud on it; no children were to be seen. They said to each other, ‘There is nothing to be done here.’ And they went home and told the Cook that they had seen nothing whatever but a rosebush, with one rosebud on it.
The old Cook scolded them, and said: ‘You boobies, you ought to have hacked the rosebush to pieces, broken off the bud, and brought it home to me. Off with you at once and do it,’ So they had to start off again on the search.
But the children saw them a long way off, and Lina said to Foundlingbird, ‘Do not forsake me, and I will never forsake thee,’
Foundlingbird said: ‘I will never forsake thee as long as I live.’
Then said Lina: ‘Thou must become a church, and I will be the chandelier in it.’
Now when the three men came up they found nothing but a church with a chandelier in it; and they said to each other: ‘What are we to do here? We had better go home again.’
When they reached the house, the Cook asked if they had not found anything. They said: ‘Nothing but a church with a chandelier in it.’
‘You fools,’ screamed the Cook, ‘why did you not destroy the church and bring me the chandelier?’ Then the old Cook put her best foot foremost, and started herself with the three men in pursuit of the children.
But the children saw the three men in the distance, and the old Cook waddling behind them. Then said Lina: ‘Fou
ndlingbird, do not forsake me, and I will never forsake thee.’
And he said: ‘I will never forsake thee as long as I live.’
Lina said: ‘Thou must become a pond, and I will be the duck swimming upon it.’
When the Cook reached the pond, she lay down beside it to drink it up, but the duck swam quickly forward, seized her head with his bill and dragged her under water; so the old witch was drowned.
Then the children went home together as happy as possible, and if they are not dead yet, then they are still alive.
The Valiant Tailor
A Tailor was sitting on his table at the window one summer morning. He was a good fellow, and stitched with all his might. A peasant woman came down the street, crying, ‘Good jam for sale! good jam for sale!’
This had a pleasant sound in the Tailor’s ears; he put his pale face out of the window, and cried, ‘You’ll find a sale for your wares up here, good Woman.’
The Woman went up the three steps to the Tailor, with the heavy basket on her head, and he made her unpack all her pots. He examined them all, lifted them up, smelt them, and at last said, ‘The jam seems good; weigh me out four ounces, good Woman, and should it come over the quarter pound, it will be all the same to me.’
The Woman, who had hoped for a better sale, gave him what he asked for, but went away cross, and grumbling to herself.
‘That jam will be a blessing to me,’ cried the Tailor; ‘it will give me strength and power.’ He brought his bread out of the cupboard, cut a whole slice, and spread the jam on it. ‘It won’t be a bitter morsel,’ said he, ‘but I will finish this waistcoat before I stick my teeth into it.’
He put the bread down by his side, and went on with his sewing, but in his joy the stitches got bigger and bigger. The smell of the jam rose to the wall, where the flies were clustered in swarms, and tempted them to come down, and they settled on the jam in masses.
‘Ah I who invited you?’ cried the Tailor, chasing away his unbidden guests. But the flies, who did not understand his language, were not to be got rid of so easily, and came back in greater numbers than ever. At last the Tailor came to the end of his patience, and seizing a bit of cloth, he cried, ‘Wait a bit, and I’ll give it you!’ So saying, he struck out at them mercilessly. When he looked, he found no fewer than seven dead and motionless. ‘So that’s the kind of fellow you are,’ he said, admiring his own valour, ‘The whole town shall know of this.’
‘Wait a bit, and I’ll give it you!’
So saying, he struck out at
them mercilessly.
In great haste he cut out a belt for himself, and stitched on it, in big letters, ‘Seven at one blow!’ ‘The town!’ he then said, ‘the whole world shall know of it t’ And his heart wagged for very joy like the tail of a lamb. The Tailor fastened the belt round his waist, and wanted to start out into the world at once; he found his workshop too small for his valour. Before starting, he searched the house to see if there was anything to take with him. He only found an old cheese, but this he put into his pocket. By the gate he saw a bird entangled in a thicket, and he put that into his pocket with the cheese. Then he boldly took to the road, and as he was light and active, he felt no fatigue. The road led up a mountain, and when he reached the highest point, he found a huge Giant sitting there comfortably looking round him.
The Tailor went pluckily up to him, and addressed him.
‘Good-day, Comrade, you are sitting there surveying the wide world, I suppose, I am just on my way to try my luck. Do you feel inclined to go with me?’
The Giant looked scornfully at the Tailor, and said, ‘You jackanapes! you miserable ragamuffin!’
‘That may be,’ said the Tailor, unbuttoning his coat and showing the Giant his belt. ‘You may just read what kind of fellow I am.’
The Giant read, ‘Seven at one blow,’ and thought that it was people the Tailor had slain; so it gave him a certain amount of respect for the little fellow. Still, he thought he would try him; so he picked up a stone and squeezed it till the water dropped out of it.
‘Do that,’ he said, ‘if you have the strength.’
‘No more than that! ‘said the Tailor; ‘why, it’s a mere joke to me.’
He put his hand into his pocket, and pulling out the bit of soft cheese, he squeezed it till the moisture ran out.
‘I guess that will equal you,’ said he.
The Giant did not know what to say, and could not have believed it of the little man.
Then the Giant picked up a stone, and threw it up so high that one could scarcely follow it with the eye.
‘Now, then, you sample of a mannikin, do that after me.’
‘Well thrown!’ said the Tailor, ‘but the stone fell to the ground again. Now I will throw one for you which will never come back again.’
So saying, he put his hand into his pocket, took out the bird, and threw it into the air. The bird, rejoiced at its freedom, soared into the air, and was never seen again.
‘What do you think of that, Comrade? ‘asked the Tailor.
‘You can certainly throw; but now we will see if you are in a condition to carry anything,’ said the Giant.
He led the Tailor to a mighty oak which had been felled, and which lay upon the ground.
‘If you are strong enough, help me out of the wood with this tree,’ he said.
‘Willingly,’ answered the little man, ‘You take the trunk on your shoulder, and I will take the branches; they must certainly be the heaviest.’
The Giant accordingly took the trunk on his shoulder; but the Tailor seated himself on one of the brandies, and the Giant, who could not look, round, had to carry the whole tree, and the Tailor into the bargain. The Tailor was very merry on the end of the tree, and whistled ‘Three Tailors rode merrily out of the town,’ as if tree-carrying were a joke to him.
When the Giant had carried the tree some distance, he could, go no further, and exclaimed, ‘Look out, I am going to drop the tree.’
The Tailor sprang to the ground with great agility, and seized, the tree with both arms, as if he had been carrying it all the time. He said to the Giant: ‘Big fellow as you are, you can’t carry a tree.’
After a time they went on together, and when they came to a cherry-tree, the Giant seized the top branches, where the cherries ripened first, bent them down, put them in the Tailor’s hand, and told him to eat. The Tailor, however, was much too weak to hold the tree, and when the Giant let go, the tree sprang back, carrying the Tailor with it into the air. When he reached the ground again, without any injury, the Giant said, ‘What’s this? Haven’t you the strength to hold a feeble sapling?’
‘It’s not strength that’s wanting,’ answered the Tailor. ‘Do you think that would, be anything to one who killed seven at a blow? I sprang over the tree because some sportsmen were shooting among the bushes. Spring after me if you like.’
The Giant made the attempt, but he could not clear the tree, and stuck among the branches. So here, too, the Tailor had the advantage of him.
The Giant said, ‘If you are such a gallant fellow, come with, me to our cave, and stay the night with us.’
The Tailor was quite ‘willing, and went with him. When they reached the cave, they found several other Giants sitting round a fire, and each one held a roasted sheep in his hand, which he was eating, The Tailor looked about him, and thought, ‘It is much more roomy here than in my workshop,’
The Giant showed him a bed, and told him to lie down and have a good sleep. The bed was much too big for the Tailor, so he did not lie down in it, but crept into a corner. At midnight, when the Giant thought the Tailor would be in a heavy sleep, he got up, took a big oak club, and with one blow crashed right through the bed, and thought he had put an end to the grasshopper. Early in the morning the Giants went out into the woods, forgetting all about the Tailor, when all at once he appeared before them, as lively as possible. They were terrified, and thinking he would strike them all dead, they ran off as fast as e
ver they could.
The Tailor went on his way, always following his own pointed nose. When he had walked for a long time, he came to the courtyard of a royal palace. He was so tired that he lay down on the grass and went to sleep. While he lay and slept, the people came and inspected him on all sides, and they read on his belt, ‘Seven at one blow.’ ‘Alas!’ they said, ‘why does this great warrior come here in time of peace; he must be a mighty man.’
They went to the King and told him about it; and they were of opinion that, should war break out, he would be a useful and powerful man, who should, on no account be allowed to depart. This advice pleased the King, and he sent one of his courtiers to the Tailor to offer him a military appointment when he woke up. The messenger remained standing by the Tailor, till he opened his eyes and stretched himself, and then he made the offer.
‘For that very purpose have I come,’ said the Tailor. ‘I am quite ready to enter the King’s service.’
So he was received with honour, and a special dwelling was assigned to him.
The Soldiers, however, bore him a grudge, and wished him a thousand miles away, ‘What will be the end of it?’ they said to each other, ‘When we quarrel with him, and he strikes out, seven of us will fall at once. One of us can’t cope with him.’ So they took a resolve, and went all together to the King, and asked for their discharge. ‘We are not made,’ said they, ‘to hold our own with a man who strikes seven at one blow.’
It grieved the King to lose all his faithful servants for the sake of one man; he wished lie had never set eyes on the Tailor, and was quite ready to let him go. He did not dare, however, to give him his dismissal, for he was afraid that he would kill him and all his people, and place himself on the throne. He pondered over it for a long time, and at last he thought of a plan. He sent for the Tailor, and said that as he was so great a warrior, he would make him an offer. In a forest in his kingdom lived two giants, who, by robbery, murder, burning, and laying waste, did much harm. No one dared approach them without being in danger of his life. If he could subdue and kill these two Giants, he would give him his only daughter to be his wife, and half his kingdom as a dowry; also he would give him a hundred Horsemen to accompany and help him.