[Illustration: {Ashenputtel goes to the ball.}]
When her Step-mother had thrown the dishes of lentils among the
ashes, the girl went out through the back door, and cried, 'Ye gentle
doves, ye turtle doves, and all ye little birds under heaven, come and
help me,
'The good into a dish to throw,
The bad into your crops can go.'
Then two white doves came in by the kitchen window, and were followed
by the turtle doves, and all the other little birds under heaven, and
in less than an hour the whole had been picked up, and they had all
flown away.
Then the girl carried the dish to her Step-mother, and was delighted
to think that she would now be able to go to the ball.
But she said, 'It's not a bit of good. You can't go with us, for
you've got no clothes, and you can't dance. We should be quite ashamed
of you.'
Thereupon she turned her back upon her, and hurried off with her two
proud daughters.
As soon as every one had left the house, Ashenputtel went out to her
mother's grave under the hazel-tree, and cried:
'Shiver and shake, dear little tree,
Gold and silver shower on me.'
Then the bird threw down to her a gold and silver robe, and a pair of
slippers embroidered with silk and silver. With all speed she put on
the robe and went to the feast. But her step-sisters and their mother
did not recognise her, and supposed that she was some foreign
Princess, so beautiful did she appear in her golden dress. They never
gave a thought to Ashenputtel, but imagined that she was sitting at
home in the dirt picking the lentils out of the cinders.
The Prince came up to the stranger, took her by the hand, and danced
with her. In fact, he would not dance with any one else, and never
left go of her hand. If any one came up to ask her to dance, he said,
'This is my partner.'
She danced until nightfall, and then wanted to go home; but the Prince
said, 'I will go with you and escort you.'
For he wanted to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged. But she
slipped out of his way and sprang into the pigeon-house.
Then the Prince waited till her Father came, and told him that the
unknown maiden had vanished into the pigeon-house.
The old man thought, 'Could it be Ashenputtel?' And he had an axe
brought to him, so that he might break down the pigeon-house, but
there was no one inside.
When they went home, there lay Ashenputtel in her dirty clothes among
the cinders, and a dismal oil lamp was burning in the chimney corner.
For Ashenputtel had quietly jumped down out of the pigeon-house and
ran back to the hazel-tree. There she had taken off her beautiful
clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken them away
again. Then she had settled herself among the ashes on the hearth in
her old grey frock.
On the second day, when the festival was renewed, and her parents and
step-sisters had started forth again, Ashenputtel went to the
hazel-tree, and said:
'Shiver and shake, dear little tree,
Gold and silver shower on me.'
Then the bird threw down a still more gorgeous robe than on the
previous day. And when she appeared at the festival in this robe,
every one was astounded by her beauty.
The King's son had waited till she came, and at once took her hand,
and she danced with no one but him. When others came forward and
invited her to dance, he said, 'This is my partner.'
At nightfall she wished to leave; but the Prince went after her,
hoping to see into what house she went, but she sprang out into the
garden behind the house. There stood a fine big tree on which the most
delicious pears hung. She climbed up among the branches as nimbly as a
squirrel, and the Prince could not make out what had become of her.
But he waited till her Father came, and then said to him, 'The
unknown maiden has slipped away from me, and I think that she has
jumped into the pear-tree.'
The Father thought, 'Can it be Ashenputtel?' And he had the axe
brought to cut down the tree, but there was no one on it. When they
went home and looked into the kitchen, there lay Ashenputtel among the
cinders as usual; for she had jumped down on the other side of the
tree, taken back the beautiful clothes to the bird on the hazel-tree,
and put on her old grey frock.
On the third day, when her parents and sisters had started,
Ashenputtel went again to her mother's grave, and said:
'Shiver and shake, dear little tree,
Gold and silver shower on me.'
Then the bird threw down a dress which was so magnificent that no one
had ever seen the like before, and the slippers were entirely of gold.
When she appeared at the festival in this attire, they were all
speechless with astonishment. The Prince danced only with her, and if
any one else asked her to dance, he said, 'This is my partner.'
When night fell and she wanted to leave, the Prince was more desirous
than ever to accompany her, but she darted away from him so quickly
that he could not keep up with her. But the Prince had used a
stratagem, and had caused the steps to be covered with cobbler's wax.
The consequence was, that as the maiden sprang down them, her left
slipper remained sticking there. The Prince took it up. It was small
and dainty, and entirely made of gold.
The next morning he went with it to Ashenputtel's Father, and said to
him, 'No other shall become my wife but she whose foot this golden
slipper fits.'
The two sisters were delighted at that, for they both had beautiful
feet. The eldest went into the room intending to try on the slipper,
and her Mother stood beside her. But her great toe prevented her
getting it on, her foot was too long.
Then her Mother handed her a knife, and said, 'Cut off the toe; when
you are Queen you won't have to walk any more.'
The girl cut off her toe, forced her foot into the slipper, stifled
her pain, and went out to the Prince. Then he took her up on his horse
as his Bride, and rode away with her.
However, they had to pass the grave on the way, and there sat the two
Doves on the hazel-tree, and cried:
'Prithee, look back, prithee, look back,
There's blood on the track,
The shoe is too small,
At home the true Bride is waiting thy call.'
Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was streaming from
it. So he turned his horse round and carried the false Bride back to
her home, and said that she was not the right one; the second sister
must try the shoe.
Then she went into the room, and succeeded in getting her toes into
the shoe, but her heel was too big.
Then her Mother handed her a knife, and said, 'Cut a bit off your
heel; when you are Queen you won't have to walk any more.'
The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe,
stifled her pain, and went out to the Prince.
Then he took her up on his horse as his Bride, and rode off with her.
As they passed the grave, the two Doves were sitting on the
hazel-tree, and crying:
'Prithee, look back, prithee, look back,
There's blood on the track,
The shoe is too small,
At home the true Bride is waiting thy call.'
He looked down at her foot and saw that it was streaming with blood,
and there were deep red spots on her stockings. Then he turned his
horse and brought the false Bride back to her home.
'This is not the right one either,' he said. 'Have you no other
daughter?'
'No,' said the man. 'There is only a daughter of my late wife's, a
puny, stunted drudge, but she cannot possibly be the Bride.'
The Prince said that she must be sent for.
But the Mother answered, 'Oh no, she is much too dirty; she mustn't be
seen on any account.'
He was, however, absolutely determined to have his way, and they were
obliged to summon Ashenputtel.
When she had washed her hands and face, she went up and curtsied to
the Prince, who handed her the golden slipper.
Then she sat down on a bench, pulled off her wooden clog and put on
the slipper, which fitted to a nicety.
And when she stood up and the Prince looked into her face, he
recognised the beautiful maiden that he had danced with, and cried:
'This is the true Bride!'
The Step-mother and the two sisters were dismayed and turned white
with rage; but he took Ashenputtel on his horse and rode off with her.
As they rode past the hazel-tree the two White Doves cried:
'Prithee, look back, prithee, look back,
No blood's on the track,
The shoe's _not_ too small,
You carry the true Bride home to your hall.'
And when they had said this they both came flying down, and settled on
Ashenputtel's shoulders, one on the right, and one on the left, and
remained perched there.
When the wedding was going to take place, the two false sisters came
and wanted to curry favour with her, and take part in her good
fortune. As the bridal party was going to the church, the eldest was
on the right side, the youngest on the left, and the Doves picked out
one of the eyes of each of them.
Afterwards, when they were coming out of the church, the elder was on
the left, the younger on the right, and the Doves picked out the other
eye of each of them. And so for their wickedness and falseness they
were punished with blindness for the rest of their days.