There was once a miller who was very poor, but he had a beautiful
daughter. Now it happened that he had occasion to speak with the King,
and in order to appear a person of some consequence he told him that he
had a daughter who could spin straw into gold.
“Now that is an art worth having,” said the King to the miller; “if
your daughter is as skillful as you say, bring her to-morrow to my
palace and I will put her to the test.”
When the girl was brought to him he led her into a room which was full
of straw, and giving her a spinning wheel and spindle he said, “Now set
to work, and if by to-morrow morning early you have not spun this straw
into gold, you shall die.”
Then he locked the door himself, and left her alone in the room.
The poor miller’s daughter sat there, and for the life of her could not
think what to do. She had not the least idea how to turn straw into
gold, and she became more and more unhappy, till at last she began to
cry. Then all at once the door opened, and in came a tiny little man
and said to her, “Good evening, Mistress Miller; why are you crying so
bitterly?”
“Alas!” answered the girl, “I have to spin straw into gold, and I do
not know how to do it.”
“What will you give me,” said the little man, “if I spin it for you?”
“My necklace,” said the girl.
The little man took the necklace, seated himself before the spinning
wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, the wheel went round three times, and
the reel was full of gold. Then he put on more straw, and whirr, whirr,
whirr, the wheel went round three turns, and the reel was full a second
time. And so it went on till morning, when all the straw was spun and
the reels were full of gold.
At sunrise the King came to the room, and when he saw the gold he was
astonished and delighted, but his heart was only greedy for more. He
had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw,
and commanded her to spin that, too, in one night, if she valued her
life. The girl did not know what to do, and began to cry; then the door
opened as before, and the little man appeared and said, “What will you
give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?”
“I will give you the ring from my finger,” answered the girl.
The little man took the ring, began to turn the wheel round with a
whirr again, and by morning had spun all the straw into glittering
gold.
The King was pleased beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not
gold enough. He had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger
room filled with straw, and said, “You must spin this, too, in the
course of the night; but if all this straw is spun into gold by
morning, you shall be my wife.”
“Even though she is only a miller’s daughter,” he thought to himself,
“I could not find a richer wife anywhere in the whole world.”
When the girl was alone the little man came for the third time, and
said, “What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this once
more?”
“I have nothing more that I can give,” answered the girl.
“Then promise me when you are queen to give me your first child.”
“Who knows what may happen before that?” thought the miller’s daughter;
and, besides, she knew no way to help herself out of this difficulty.
So she promised the little man what he asked, and for that he soon spun
the straw into gold once more.
When the King came in the morning and found everything as he had
wished, he took her in marriage, and the miller’s beautiful daughter
became a queen.
A year later she had a beautiful child, and she never gave a thought to
the little man; but all of a sudden one day he walked into her room and
said, “Now give me what you promised.”
The Queen was terrified, and offered the little man all the treasures
of the kingdom if he would only leave her her child.
But the little man said, “No, something living is dearer to me than all
the treasures in the world.”
Then the Queen began to mourn and weep so bitterly that the little man
was sorry for her, and said, “I will give you three days, and if in
that time you can guess my name, you shall keep your child.”
Then the Queen lay awake till morning, thinking over all the names she
had ever heard of, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire
far and near any other names there might be. When the little man came
the next day she began with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and repeated
all the names she knew; but at each one the little man said, “No,
that’s not my name.”
The next day she sent to inquire the names of all the people in the
neighborhood, and had a long list of the most uncommon and
extraordinary names for the little man when he came.
“Is your name Shortribs, perhaps, or Sheepshanks, or Spindleleg?”
But he always replied, “No, that is not my name.”
The third day the messenger returned and reported: “I have not been
able to find any more new names, but on my way home, as I came to a
high mountain on the edge of the forest, I saw there a little house,
and before the house a fire was burning, and round the fire a
ridiculous little man was hopping and dancing on one leg and crying:
“‘To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake,
Next morning I shall the Queen’s child take;
How glad I am that no one can dream
That Rumpelstiltskin is my name!’”
You can imagine how delighted the Queen was when she heard the name.
And when the little man came in a little later and asked, “Now, Lady
Queen, what is my name?” she asked first, “Is your name Conrad?”
“No.”
“Is your name Henry?”
“No.”
“Is your name, perhaps, Rumpelstiltskin?”
“The bad fairies told you that! the bad fairies told you that!”
screamed the little man, and in his rage he stamped his right foot so
deep into the ground that his whole leg went in; then, in a passion, he
seized his left foot with both hands and tore himself in two.