“If thy mother knew thy fate
Then her heart would surely break.”
The Princess made no answer, but having quenched her thirst she mounted
her horse again and rode forward, and presently forgot her maid’s
rudeness.
After awhile they reached another stream, and as the Princess was again
thirsty, she said to the waiting-maid, “Light down, I pray you, and
fill my cup with water, that I may drink.”
But the waiting-maid answered even more rudely than before, “No, I will
not; get down and get the water for yourself, for I will serve you no
more.”
The Princess slipped from her horse, sighing deeply, and as she bent
over the stream the three drops of blood said to her:
“If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break.”
The Princess made no answer, but as she stooped still lower to drink
the handkerchief slipped from her bosom and floated away on the stream,
but the Princess did not notice this because her eyes were full of
tears. The waiting-maid noticed it, however, and her heart was filled
with joy, because now the Princess had nothing to protect her, and the
wicked servant could do with her as she chose.
When the Princess arose and was about to mount Falada the waiting-maid
said to her, “Wait a bit! I am tired of acting as your servant. Now, we
will try it the other way around. Give me your fine clothes, and you
can dress yourself in these common things I am wearing.”
The Princess was afraid to refuse; she gave the waiting-maid her
beautiful dress and her jewels, and dressed herself in the common
clothes.
Again she was about to mount Falada, but again the waiting-maid bade
her stay; “You shall ride my horse,” said she, “and I will ride
Falada.” As she said so it was done. The waiting-maid also made the
Princess swear that she would tell no living soul who she was. The
Princess dared not refuse for fear of her life. But Falada made no such
promise, and he had seen and heard all that had happened.
When they rode on again the waiting-maid was in front, dressed in the
fine clothes and mounted on Falada, and the Princess came behind on the
waiting-maid’s horse, and she was dressed in the common clothes, but
even so she was far more beautiful than the servant.
They reached the palace, and the Prince came out to meet his bride. He
lifted down the waiting-maid from Falada, for he thought she was the
Princess, and he led her up the grand stairway and into the room where
the King sat, but the Princess was left below in the courtyard, and no
one paid any attention to her.
The King was surprised when he saw the waiting-maid, for he supposed
her to be the Princess, and he had expected her to be much more
beautiful. However, he said nothing about it to anyone, but made her
welcome. Presently he happened to look out of the window, and there
he saw the true Princess down below. “Who is that standing in the
courtyard?” he asked, for he saw at once that she was very beautiful,
and he was curious about it.
“Oh, that is only my waiting-maid,” answered the false bride
carelessly. “I wish you would give her some work to do so that she may
not be spoiled by idleness.”
“I do not know what she can do except take care of the geese,” answered
the King. “Conrad, who is the goose-herd, is only a boy, and he would
be glad of help in caring for them.”
“Very well; then let her be a goose-herd,” answered the false bride.
So the Princess went out in the field to help tend the geese, and the
waiting-maid lived in the palace, and was treated to all that was
best there. But the Prince was not happy, for his bride was rude and
ill-tempered, and he could not love her.
One day the false bride said to the Prince, “I wish you would have
Falada’s head cut off. I am weary of him, and besides he stumbles when
I ride him.” But really she feared Falada might speak and tell all he
had seen.
The Prince was shocked. “Why should you kill a horse that is so
beautiful and gentle?” he asked.
“Because, as I tell you, I do not like him,” answered the waiting-maid.
“Besides the horse is mine, and I can do as I like with him. If you
refuse to have this done I shall know very well that it is because you
do not love me.”
The Prince dared refuse no longer. He sent for a man and had Falada’s
head cut off.
When the true Princess heard this she wept bitterly. She sent for the
man and offered him a piece of gold if he would bring Falada’s head and
nail it up over the gateway through which she passed every morning.
The man was anxious to have the gold. He took the money and nailed
Falada’s head up over the gateway where the Princess wished it put.
The next morning as the Princess and Conrad drove the geese out to
pasture she looked up at Falada and said:
“Ah, Falada, that thou shouldst hang there!”
And Falada answered:
“Ah, Princess, that thou shouldst pass here!
If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break!”
The little goose-herd stared and wondered to hear this talk between
the goose-girl and the horse’s head, but he said nothing. He and the
Princess went on out to the meadows driving the geese before them,
and when they were far off in the meadows where no one could see, the
Princess sat down and unbound her golden hair, so that it fell all
about her in a shower, and began to comb it.
Conrad had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life before,
for her hair shone and glittered in the sunshine until it was enough
to dazzle one. He longed to have just one thread of it to keep, so he
crept up behind the Princess, meaning to steal one. But the Princess
knew what he was about. Just as he reached out his hand she sang:
“Blow, wind, blow!
Blow Conrad’s hat away.
It is rolling! Do not stay
Till I have combed my hair
And tied it up again.”
At once the wind caught Conrad’s hat from his head and sent it flying
and rolling across the meadows, and Conrad was obliged to run after it
or he would have lost it.
By the time he came back again with the hat the Princess had combed her
hair and fastened it up under her cap so that not a thread of it could
be seen.
Conrad was very cross when he went home with the Princess that evening.
He would not speak a word to her.
The next morning when they started out with the geese they passed under
the gateway as usual, and the Princess looked up and said:
“Ah, Falada, that thou shouldst hang there!”
And the head answered:
“Ah, Princess, that thou shouldst pass here!
If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break.”
Conrad listened and wondered, but said nothing.
When they reached the meadow the Princess let down her hair as before
and began to comb it. It looked so beautiful and glittering and bright
that Conrad felt he must have a hair of it. He crept up behind her and
then, just as he was about to seize it, the Princess sang:
“Blow, wind, blow!
Blow Conrad’s hat away.
It is rolling! Do not stay
Till I have combed my hair
And tied it up again.”
At once the wind whirled Conrad’s hat away across the meadows, and he
had to run after it to catch it.
When he came back he was so sulky that he would not even look at the
Princess, but already she had her hair combed and fastened up under her
cap.
That evening the goose-herd went to the King and said, “I do not wish
that girl to go out to the meadows with me any more. I would rather
take care of the geese by myself.”
“Why?” asked the King. “What is the matter with her?”
“Oh, she vexes me, and she has strange ways that I cannot understand.”
“What ways?” asked the King.
Then Conrad told him how every day as he and the girl passed through
the gateway she would look up at the horse’s head and say:
“Ah, Falada, that thou shouldst hang there!”
And how the head would answer:
“Ah, Princess that thou shouldst pass here!
If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break.”
“I do not like such strange ways,” said Conrad.
The King looked thoughtful and stroked his beard. Then he told Conrad
not to say anything about this matter to anyone. “I myself,” said he,
“will watch by the gateway to-morrow morning, for I wish to hear for
myself exactly what passes between the girl and Falada.”
So the next morning very early the King hid himself in the shadow
beside the gateway, and presently the Princess and Conrad came along
driving the geese before them.
As they reached the gateway the Princess looked up and sighed:
“Ah, Falada, that thou shouldst hang there!”
And the head answered:
“Ah, Princess, that thou shouldst pass here!
If thy mother knew thy fate,
Then her heart would surely break.”
After they had spoken thus the King stepped out from the shadow and
called to the Princess. “What is the meaning of these words?” asked he.
“Who are you, and what is your story?”
The Princess began to weep. “Alas, I cannot answer,” said she, “for I
have sworn that I would not tell a single living soul.”
“Very well,” said the King, “if you have sworn, then you must keep your
oath; but to-night, after all the servants have left the bakehouse go
and tell your story to the great oven that is there.”
This the Princess promised she would do. So that night, when she came
home, she went into the bakehouse and looked about her. She saw no one,
and she thought she was alone there, but the King had hidden himself
inside the oven, though she did not know it.
Then the Princess began to tell her story to the oven. She told how
she had left home with her false-hearted waiting-maid. She told of how
she had lost the kerchief with the drops of blood upon it, and how the
waiting-maid had made her exchange clothing with her and dress herself
as a servant; and she told how she had been forced to swear that she
would not tell all this to a living soul. All, the whole story, she
told to the bake-oven, and the King sat inside of it and listened and
understood.
When she had made an end of speaking the King came out and took her by
the hand. “You have been very cruelly treated,” said he, “but now your
sorrows are over.”
He then led the Princess into the palace, and she was dressed in the
richest clothes that were there, and when this was done she was as
beautiful as the moon when the clouds drift over it.
The King sent for the Prince, and when he saw the Princess he was
filled with joy and love, and he knew at once that this must be his
true bride.
He and the King planned together as to how the false bride should be
punished. And this is what was done:
A grand feast and entertainment were arranged. The Prince sat upon a
high seat with the false bride upon one hand and the true bride upon
the other. But the false bride was so dazzled by all the splendor, and
by her own pride that she did not even see the Princess.
Everyone ate and drank to his heart’s content, and then the King
began asking riddles. After the riddles he said he would tell the
guests a story, and the story he told was that of the Princess and the
waiting-maid, and still the false bride was too dazzled by her own
splendor to understand the story.
When he had finished the story the King asked, “What should be the
punishment of such a false servant as that?”
Then the false bride cried boldly, “She should be taken to a high cliff
and thrown over into the sea.”
“So shall it be,” cried the King sternly, “for you yourself are that
false servant, and here sits the true bride whom you have wronged.”
Then the waiting-maid understood what she had done, and she was filled
with terror. But the Princess had pity on her, and begged for mercy
for her. So the waiting-maid was not thrown into the sea, but her fine
clothes were stripped from her, and she was driven out to beg her way
through the world.
Then the Prince and Princess were married and lived happily ever after,
and Falada’s head was taken down and placed upon his body and he came
to life again and lived for many years in the castle stable, and the
Princess loved him dearly.
[Illustration]