Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 02 Read online

  Then she showed him the twelve shirts which she had taken with her, and Benjamin saw that it must be his sister, and said:

  'I am Benjamin, your youngest brother.'

  So they wept for joy, and kissed and hugged each other again and again. After a time Benjamin said:

  'Dear sister, there is still a little difficulty, for we had all agreed that any girl we met should die at our hands, because it was for the sake of a girl that we had to leave our kingdom.'

  'But,' she replied, 'I will gladly die if by that means I can restore my twelve brothers to their own.'

  'No,' he answered, 'there is no need for that; only go and hide under that tub till our eleven brothers come in, and I'll soon make matters right with them.'

  She did as she was bid, and soon the others came home from the chase and sat down to supper.

  'Well, Benjamin, what's the news?' they asked. But he replied, 'I like that; have you nothing to tell me?'

  'No,' they answered.

  Then he said: 'Well, now, you've been out in the wood all the day and I've stayed quietly at home, and all the same I know more than you do.'

  'Then tell us,' they cried.

  But he answered: 'Only on condition that you promise faithfully that the first girl we meet shall not be killed.'

  'She shall be spared,' they promised, 'only tell us the news.'

  Then Benjamin said: 'Our sister is here!' and he lifted up the tub and the Princess stepped forward, with her royal robes and with the golden star on her forehead, looking so lovely and sweet and charming that they all fell in love with her on the spot.

  They arranged that she should stay at home with Benjamin and help him in the house work, while the rest of the brothers went out into the wood and shot hares and roe-deer, birds and wood-pigeons. And Benjamin and his sister cooked their meals for them. She gathered herbs to cook the vegetables in, fetched the wood, and watched the pots on the fire, and always when her eleven brothers returned she had their supper ready for them. Besides this, she kept the house in order, tidied all the rooms, and made herself so generally useful that her brothers were delighted, and they all lived happily together.

  One day the two at home prepared a fine feast, and when they were all assembled they sat down and ate and drank and made merry.

  Now there was a little garden round the enchanted house, in which grew twelve tall lilies. The girl, wishing to please her brothers, plucked the twelve flowers, meaning to present one to each of them as they sat at supper. But hardly had she plucked the flowers when her brothers were turned into twelve ravens, who flew croaking over the wood, and the house and garden vanished also.

  So the poor girl found herself left all alone in the wood, and as she looked round her she noticed an old woman standing close beside her, who said:

  'My child, what have you done? Why didn't you leave the flowers alone? They were your twelve brothers. Now they are changed for ever into ravens.'

  The girl asked, sobbing: 'Is there no means of setting them free?'

  'No,' said the old woman, 'there is only one way in the whole world, and that is so difficult that you won't free them by it, for you would have to be dumb and not laugh for seven years, and if you spoke a single word, though but an hour were wanting to the time, your silence would all have been in vain, and that one word would slay your brothers.'

  Then the girl said to herself: 'If that is all I am quite sure I can free my brothers.' So she searched for a high tree, and when she had found one she climbed up it and spun all day long, never laughing or speaking one word.

  Now it happened one day that a King who was hunting in the wood had a large greyhound, who ran sniffing to the tree on which the girl sat, and jumped round it, yelping and barking furiously. The King's attention was attracted, and when he looked up and beheld the beautiful Princess with the golden star on her forehead, he was so enchanted by her beauty that he asked her on the spot to be his wife. She gave no answer, but nodded slightly with her head. Then he climbed up the tree himself, lifted her down, put her on his horse and bore her home to his palace.

  The marriage was celebrated with much pomp and ceremony, but the bride neither spoke nor laughed.

  When they had lived a few years happily together, the King's mother, who was a wicked old woman, began to slander the young Queen, and said to the King:

  'She is only a low-born beggar maid that you have married; who knows what mischief she is up to? If she is deaf and can't speak, she might at least laugh; depend upon it, those who don't laugh have a bad conscience.' At first the King paid no heed to her words, but the old woman harped so long on the subject, and accused the young Queen of so many bad things, that at last he let himself be talked over, and condemned his beautiful wife to death.

  So a great fire was lit in the courtyard of the palace, where she was to be burnt, and the King watched the proceedings from an upper window, crying bitterly the while, for he still loved his wife dearly. But just as she had been bound to the stake, and the flames were licking her garments with their red tongues, the very last moment of the seven years had come. Then a sudden rushing sound was heard in the air, and twelve ravens were seen flying overhead. They swooped downwards, and as soon as they touched the ground they turned into her twelve brothers, and she knew that she had freed them.

  They quenched the flames and put out the fire, and, unbinding their dear sister from the stake. they kissed and hugged her again and again. And now that she was able to open her mouth and speak, she told the King why she had been dumb and not able to laugh.

  The King rejoiced greatly when he heard she was innocent, and they all lived happily ever afterwards.[23]

  Rapunzel

  *

  ONCE upon a time there lived a man and his wife who were very unhappy because they had no children. These good people had a little window at the back of their house, which looked into the most lovely garden, full of all manner of beautiful flowers and vegetables; but the garden was surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to enter it, for it belonged to a witch of great power, who was feared by the whole world. One day the woman stood at the window overlooking the garden, and saw there a bed full of the finest rampion: the leaves looked so fresh and green that she longed to eat them. The desire grew day by day, and just because she knew she couldn't possibly get any, she pined away and became quite pale and wretched. Then her husband grew alarmed and said:

  'What ails you, dear wife?'

  'Oh,' she answered, 'if I don't get some rampion to eat out of the garden behind the house, I know I shall die.'

  The man, who loved her dearly, thought to himself, 'Come! rather than let your wife die you shall fetch her some rampion, no matter the cost.' So at dusk he climbed over the wall into the witch's garden, and, hastily gathering a handful of rampion leaves, he returned with them to his wife. She made them into a salad, which tasted so good that her longing for the forbidden food was greater than ever. If she were to know any peace of mind, there was nothing for it but that her husband should climb over the garden wall again, and fetch her some more. So at dusk over he got, but when he reached the other side he drew back in terror, for there, standing before him, was the old witch.

  'How dare you,' she said, with a wrathful glance, 'climb into my garden and steal my rampion like a common thief? You shall suffer for your foolhardiness.'

  'Oh!' he implored, 'pardon my presumption; necessity alone drove me to the deed. My wife saw your rampion from her window, and conceived such a desire for it that she would certainly have died if her wish had not been gratified.' Then the Witch's anger was a little appeased, and she said:

  'If it's as you say, you may take as much rampion away with you as you like, but on one condition only—that you give me the child your wife will shortly bring into the world. All shall go well with it, and I will look after it like a mother.'

  The man in his terror agreed to everything she asked, and as soon as the child was born the Witch appeared, and having given it the n
ame of Rapunzel, which is the same as rampion, she carried it off with her.

  Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old the Witch shut her up in a tower, in the middle of a great wood, and the tower had neither stairs nor doors, only high up at the very top a small window. When the old Witch wanted to get in she stood underneath and called out:

  'Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

  Let down your golden hair,'

  for Rapunzel had wonderful long hair, and it was as fine as spun gold. Whenever she heard the Witch's voice she unloosed her plaits, and let her hair fall down out of the window about twenty yards below, and the old Witch climbed up by it.

  After they had lived like this for a few years, it happened one day that a Prince was riding through the wood and passed by the tower. As he drew near it he heard someone singing so sweetly that he stood still spell-bound, and listened. It was Rapunzel in her loneliness trying to while away the time by letting her sweet voice ring out into the wood. The Prince longed to see the owner of the voice, but he sought in vain for a door in the tower. He rode home, but he was so haunted by the song he had heard that he returned every day to the wood and listened. One day, when he was standing thus behind a tree, he saw the old Witch approach and heard her call out:

  'Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

  Let down your golden hair.'

  Then Rapunzel let down her plaits, and the Witch climbed up by them.

  'So that's the staircase, is it?' said the Prince. 'Then I too will climb it and try my luck.'

  So on the following day, at dusk, he went to the foot of the tower and cried:

  'Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

  Let down your golden hair,'

  and as soon as she had let it down the Prince climbed up.

  At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man came in, for she had never seen one before; but the Prince spoke to her so kindly, and told her at once that his heart had been so touched by her singing, that he felt he should know no peace of mind till he had seen her. Very soon Rapunzel forgot her fear, and when he asked her to marry him she consented at once. 'For,' she thought, 'he is young and handsome, and I'll certainly be happier with him than with the old Witch.' So she put her hand in his and said:

  'Yes, I will gladly go with you, only how am I to get down out of the tower? Every time you come to see me you must bring a skein of silk with you, and I will make a ladder of them, and when it is finished I will climb down by it, and you will take me away on your horse.'

  They arranged that till the ladder was ready, he was to come to her every evening, because the old woman was with her during the day. The old Witch, of course, knew nothing of what was going on, till one day Rapunzel, not thinking of what she was about, turned to the Witch and said:

  'How is it, good mother, that you are so much harder to pull up than the young Prince? He is always with me in a moment.'

  'Oh! you wicked child,' cried the Witch. 'What is this I hear? I thought I had hidden you safely from the whole world, and in spite of it you have managed to deceive me.'

  In her wrath she seized Rapunzel's beautiful hair, wound it round and round her left hand, and then grasping a pair of scissors in her right, snip snap, off it came, and the beautiful plaits lay on the ground. And, worse than this, she was so hard-hearted that she took Rapunzel to a lonely desert place, and there left her to live in loneliness and misery.

  But on the evening of the day in which she had driven poor Rapunzel away, the Witch fastened the plaits on to a hook in the window, and when the Prince came and called out:

  'Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

  Let down your golden hair,'

  she let them down, and the Prince climbed up as usual, but instead of his beloved Rapunzel he found the old Witch, who fixed her evil, glittering eyes on him, and cried mockingly:

  'Ah, ah! you thought to find your lady love, but the pretty bird has flown and its song is dumb; the cat caught it, and will scratch out your eyes too. Rapunzel is lost to you for ever—you will never see her more.'

  The Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he jumped right down from the tower, and, though he escaped with his life, the thorns among which he fell pierced his eyes out. Then he wandered, blind and miserable, through the wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and weeping and lamenting the loss of his lovely bride. So he wandered about for some years, as wretched and unhappy as he could well be, and at last he came to the desert place where Rapunzel was living. Of a sudden he heard a voice which seemed strangely familiar to him. He walked eagerly in the direction of the sound, and when he was quite close, Rapunzel recognised him and fell on his neck and wept. But two of her tears touched his eyes, and in a moment they became quite clear again, and he saw as well as he had ever done. Then he led her to his kingdom, where they were received and welcomed with great joy, and they lived happily ever after.[24]

  The Nettle Spinner

  *

  I

  ONCE upon a time there lived at Quesnoy, in Flanders, a great lord whose name was Burchard, but whom the country people called Burchard the Wolf. Now Burchard had such a wicked, cruel heart, that it was whispered how he used to harness his peasants to the plough, and force them by blows from his whip to till his land with naked feet.

  His wife, on the other hand, was always tender and pitiful to the poor and miserable.

  Every time that she heard of another misdeed of her husband's she secretly went to repair the evil, which caused her name to be blessed throughout the whole country-side. This Countess was adored as much as the Count was hated.

  II

  One day when he was out hunting the Count passed through a forest, and at the door of a lonely cottage he saw a beautiful girl spinning hemp.

  'What is your name?' he asked her.

  'Renelde, my lord.'

  'You must get tired of staying in such a lonely place?'

  'I am accustomed to it, my lord, and I never get tired of it.'

  'That may be so; but come to the castle, and I will make you lady's maid to the Countess.'

  'I cannot do that, my lord. I have to look after my grandmother, who is very helpless.'

  'Come to the castle, I tell you. I shall expect you this evening,' and he went on his way.

  But Renelde, who was betrothed to a young wood-cutter called Guilbert, had no intention of obeying the Count, and she had, besides, to take care of her grandmother.

  Three days later the Count again passed by.

  'Why didn't you come?' he asked the pretty spinner.

  'I told you, my lord, that I have to look after my grandmother.' 'Come to-morrow, and I will make you lady-in-waiting to the Countess,' and he went on his way.

  This offer produced no more effect than the other, and Renelde did not go to the castle.

  'If you will only come,' said the Count to her when next he rode by, 'I will send away the Countess, and will marry you.'

  But two years before, when Renelde's mother was dying of a long illness, the Countess had not forgotten them, but had given help when they sorely needed it. So even if the Count had really wished to marry Renelde, she would always have refused.

  III

  Some weeks passed before Burchard appeared again.

  Renelde hoped she had got rid of him, when one day he stopped at the door, his duck-gun under his arm and his game-bag on his shoulder. This time Renelde was spinning not hemp, but flax.

  'What are you spinning?' he asked in a rough voice.

  'My wedding shift, my lord.'

  'You are going to be married, then?'

  'Yes, my lord, by your leave.'

  For at that time no peasant could marry without the leave of his master.

  'I will give you leave on one condition. Do you see those tall nettles that grow on the tombs in the churchyard? Go and gather them, and spin them into two fine shifts. One shall be your bridal shift, and the other shall be my shroud. For you shall be married the day that I am laid in my grave.' And the Cou
nt turned away with a mocking laugh.

  Renelde trembled. Never in all Locquignol had such a thing been heard of as the spinning of nettles.

  And besides, the Count seemed made of iron and was very proud of his strength, often boasting that he should live to be a hundred.

  Every evening, when his work was done, Guilbert came to visit his future bride. This evening he came as usual, and Renelde told him what Burchard had said.

  'Would you like me to watch for the Wolf, and split his skull with a blow from my axe?'

  'No,' replied Renelde, 'there must be no blood on my bridal bouquet. And then we must not hurt the Count. Remember how good the Countess was to my mother.'

  An old, old woman now spoke: she was the mother of Renelde's grandmother, and was more than ninety years old. All day long she sat in her chair nodding her head and never saying a word.

  'My children,' she said, 'all the years that I have lived in the world, I have never heard of a shift spun from nettles. But what God commands, man can do. Why should not Renelde try it?'

  IV

  Renelde did try, and to her great surprise the nettles when crushed and prepared gave a good thread, soft and light and firm. Very soon she had spun the first shift, which was for her own wedding. She wove and cut it out at once, hoping that the Count would not force her to begin the other. Just as she had finished sewing it, Burchard the Wolf passed by.

  'Well,' said he, 'how are the shifts getting on?'

  'Here, my lord, is my wedding garment,' answered Renelde, showing him the shift, which was the finest and whitest ever seen.

  The Count grew pale, but he replied roughly, 'Very good. Now begin the other.'

  The spinner set to work. As the Count returned to the castle, a cold shiver passed over him, and he felt, as the saying is, that some one was walking over his grave. He tried to eat his supper, but could not; he went to bed shaking with fever. But he did not sleep, and in the morning could not manage to rise.

  This sudden illness, which every instant became worse, made him very uneasy. No doubt Renelde's spinning-wheel knew all about it. Was it not necessary that his body, as well as his shroud, should be ready for the burial?