'Oh, no,' they said, 'the conditions are too hard. You must not speak
or laugh for six years, and must make in that time six shirts for us out
of star-flowers. If a single word comes out of your mouth, all your
labour is vain.' And when the brothers had said this the quarter of an
hour came to an end, and they flew away out of the window as swans.
But the maiden had determined to free her brothers even if it should
cost her her life. She left the hut, went into the forest, climbed a
tree, and spent the night there. The next morning she went out,
collected star-flowers, and began to sew. She could speak to no one,
and she had no wish to laugh, so she sat there, looking only at her
work.
When she had lived there some time, it happened that the King of that
country was hunting in the forest, and his hunters came to the tree on
which the maiden sat. They called to her and said, 'Who are you?'
But she gave no answer.
'Come down to us,' they said, 'we will do you no harm.'
But she shook her head silently. As they pressed her further with
questions, she threw them the golden chain from her neck. But they did
not leave off, and she threw them her girdle, and when this was no use,
her garters, and then her dress. The huntsmen would not leave her
alone, but climbed the tree, lifted the maiden down, and led her to the
King. The King asked, 'Who are you? What are you doing up that tree?'
[Illustration: 'And then her dress.']
But she answered nothing.
He asked her in all the languages he knew, but she remained as dumb as a
fish. Because she was so beautiful, however, the King's heart was
touched, and he was seized with a great love for her. He wrapped her up
in his cloak, placed her before him on his horse, and brought her to his
castle. There he had her dressed in rich clothes, and her beauty shone
out as bright as day, but not a word could be drawn from her. He set her
at table by his side, and her modest ways and behaviour pleased him so
much that he said, 'I will marry this maiden and none other in the
world,' and after some days he married her. But the King had a wicked
mother who was displeased with the marriage, and said wicked things of
the young Queen. 'Who knows who this girl is?' she said; 'she cannot
speak, and is not worthy of a king.'
After a year, when the Queen had her first child, the old mother took it
away from her. Then she went to the King and said that the Queen had
killed it. The King would not believe it, and would not allow any harm
to be done her. But she sat quietly sewing at the shirts and troubling
herself about nothing. The next time she had a child the wicked mother
did the same thing, but the King could not make up his mind to believe
her. He said, 'She is too sweet and good to do such a thing as that.
If she were not dumb and could defend herself, her innocence would be
proved.' But when the third child was taken away, and the Queen was
again accused, and could not utter a word in her own defence, the King
was obliged to give her over to the law, which decreed that she must be
burnt to death. When the day came on which the sentence was to be
executed, it was the last day of the six years in which she must not
speak or laugh, and now she had freed her dear brothers from the power
of the enchantment. The six shirts were done; there was only the left
sleeve wanting to the last.
When she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on her arm, and as
she stood on the pile and the fire was about to be lighted, she looked
around her and saw six swans flying through the air. Then she knew that
her release was at hand and her heart danced for joy. The swans
fluttered round her, and hovered low so that she could throw the shirts
over them. When they had touched them the swan-skins fell off, and her
brothers stood before her living, well and beautiful. Only the youngest
had a swan's wing instead of his left arm. They embraced and kissed
each other, and the Queen went to the King, who was standing by in great
astonishment, and began to speak to him saying, 'Dearest husband, now I
can speak and tell you openly that I am innocent and have been falsely
accused.'
She told him of the old woman's deceit, and how she had taken the three
children away and hidden them. Then they were fetched, to the great joy
of the King, and the wicked mother came to no good end.
But the King and the Queen with their six brothers lived many years in
happiness and peace.
*STORY OF THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES*
Many years ago there lived an Emperor who was so fond of new clothes
that he spent all his money on them in order to be beautifully dressed.
He did not care about his soldiers, he did not care about the theatre;
he only liked to go out walking to show off his new clothes. He had a
coat for every hour of the day; and just as they say of a king, 'He is
in the council-chamber,' they always said here, 'The Emperor is in the
wardrobe.'
In the great city in which he lived there was always something going on;
every day many strangers came there. One day two impostors arrived who
gave themselves out as weavers, and said that they knew how to
manufacture the most beautiful cloth imaginable. Not only were the
texture and pattern uncommonly beautiful, but clothes which were made of
the stuff possessed this wonderful property that they were invisible to
anyone who was not fit for his office, or who was unpardonably stupid.
'Those must indeed be splendid clothes,' thought the Emperor. 'If I had
them on I could find out which men in my kingdom are unfit for the
offices they hold; I could distinguish the wise from the stupid! Yes,
this cloth must be woven for me at once.' And he gave both the
impostors much money, so that they might begin their work.
They placed two weaving-looms, and began to do as if they were working,
but they had not the least thing on the looms. They also demanded the
finest silk and the best gold, which they put in their pockets, and
worked at the empty looms till late into the night.
'I should like very much to know how far they have got on with the
cloth,' thought the Emperor. But he remembered when he thought about it
that whoever was stupid or not fit for his office would not be able to
see it. Now he certainly believed that he had nothing to fear for
himself, but he wanted first to send somebody else in order to see how
he stood with regard to his office. Everybody in the whole town knew
what a wonderful power the cloth had, and they were all curious to see
how bad or how stupid their neighbour was.
'I will send my old and honoured minister to the weavers,' thought the
Emperor. 'He can judge best what the cloth is like, for he has
intellect, and no one understands his office better than he.'
Now the good old minister went into the hall where the two impostors sat
working at the empty weaving-looms. 'Dear me!' thought the old
minister, opening his eyes wide, 'I can see nothing!' But he did not
say so.
Both the impostors begged him to be so kind as to step closer, and asked
him if it were not a beautiful texture and lovely colours. They pointed
to the empty loom, and the poor old minister went forward rubbing his
eyes; but he could see nothing, for there was nothing there.
'Dear, dear!' thought he, 'can I be stupid? I have never thought that,
and nobody must know it! Can I be not fit for my office? No, I must
certainly not say that I cannot see the cloth!'
'Have you nothing to say about it?' asked one of the men who was
weaving.
'Oh, it is lovely, most lovely!' answered the old minister, looking
through his spectacles. 'What a texture! What colours! Yes, I will
tell the Emperor that it pleases me very much.'
'Now we are delighted at that,' said both the weavers, and thereupon
they named the colours and explained the make of the texture.
The old minister paid great attention, so that he could tell the same to
the Emperor when he came back to him, which he did.
The impostors now wanted more money, more silk, and more gold to use in
their weaving. They put it all in their own pockets, and there came no
threads on the loom, but they went on as they had done before, working
at the empty loom. The Emperor soon sent another worthy statesman to
see how the weaving was getting on, and whether the cloth would soon be
finished. It was the same with him as the first one; he looked and
looked, but because there was nothing on the empty loom he could see
nothing.
'Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?' asked the two impostors, and
they pointed to and described the splendid material which was not there.
'Stupid I am not!' thought the man, 'so it must be my good office for
which I am not fitted. It is strange, certainly, but no one must be
allowed to notice it.' And so he praised the cloth which he did not
see, and expressed to them his delight at the beautiful colours and the
splendid texture. 'Yes, it is quite beautiful,' he said to the Emperor.
Everybody in the town was talking of the magnificent cloth.
Now the Emperor wanted to see it himself while it was still on the loom.
With a great crowd of select followers, amongst whom were both the
worthy statesmen who had already been there before, he went to the
cunning impostors, who were now weaving with all their might, but
without fibre or thread.
'Is it not splendid!' said both the old statesmen who had already been
there. 'See, your Majesty, what a texture! What colours!' And then
they pointed to the empty loom, for they believed that the others could
see the cloth quite well.
'What!' thought the Emperor. 'I can see nothing! This is indeed
horrible! Am I stupid? Am I not fit to be Emperor? That were the most
dreadful thing that could happen to me. Oh, it is very beautiful,' he
said. 'It has my gracious approval.' And then he nodded pleasantly,
and examined the empty loom, for he would not say that he could see
nothing.
His whole Court round him looked and looked, and saw no more than the
others; but they said like the Emperor, 'Oh! it is beautiful!' And they
advised him to wear these new and magnificent clothes for the first time
at the great procession which was soon to take place. 'Splendid!
Lovely! Most beautiful!' went from mouth to mouth; everyone seemed
delighted over them, and the Emperor gave to the impostors the title of
Court weavers to the Emperor.
Throughout the whole of the night before the morning on which the
procession was to take place, the impostors were up and were working by
the light of over sixteen candles. The people could see that they were
very busy making the Emperor's new clothes ready. They pretended they
were taking the cloth from the loom, cut with huge scissors in the air,
sewed with needles without thread, and then said at last, 'Now the
clothes are finished!'
The Emperor came himself with his most distinguished knights, and each
impostor held up his arm just as if he were holding something, and said,
'See! here are the breeches! Here is the coat! Here the cloak!' and so
on.
'Spun clothes are so comfortable that one would imagine one had nothing
on at all; but that is the beauty of it!'
'Yes,' said all the knights, but they could see nothing, for there was
nothing there.
'Will it please your Majesty graciously to take off your clothes,' said
the impostors, 'then we will put on the new clothes, here before the
mirror.'
The Emperor took off all his clothes, and the impostors placed
themselves before him as if they were putting on each part of his new
clothes which was ready, and the Emperor turned and bent himself in
front of the mirror.
'How beautifully they fit! How well they sit!' said everybody. 'What
material! What colours! It is a gorgeous suit!'
[Illustration: The Emperor comes to see his new clothes.]
'They are waiting outside with the canopy which your Majesty is wont to
have borne over you in the procession,' announced the Master of the
Ceremonies.
'Look, I am ready,' said the Emperor. 'Doesn't it sit well!' And he
turned himself again to the mirror to see if his finery was on all
right.
The chamberlains who were used to carry the train put their hands near
the floor as if they were lifting up the train; then they did as if they
were holding something in the air. They would not have it noticed that
they could see nothing.
So the Emperor went along in the procession under the splendid canopy,
and all the people in the streets and at the windows said, 'How
matchless are the Emperor's new clothes! That train fastened to his
dress, how beautifully it hangs!'
No one wished it to be noticed that he could see nothing, for then he
would have been unfit for his office, or else very stupid. None of the
Emperor's clothes had met with such approval as these had.
'But he has nothing on!' said a little child at last.
'Just listen to the innocent child!' said the father, and each one
whispered to his neighbour what the child had said.
'But he has nothing on!' the whole of the people called out at last.
This struck the Emperor, for it seemed to him as if they were right; but
he thought to himself, 'I must go on with the procession now.' And the
chamberlains walked along still more uprightly, holding up the train
which was not there at all.
*THE GOLDEN CRAB*
Once upon a time there was a fisherman who had a wife and three
children. Every morning he used to go out fishing, and whatever fish he
caught he sold to the King. One day, among the other fishes, he caught
a golden crab. When he came home he put all the fishes together into a
great dish, but he kept the Crab separate because it shone so
beautifully, and placed it upon a high shelf in the cupboard. Now while
the old woman, his wife, was cleaning the fish, and had tucked up her
gown so that her feet were visible, she suddenly heard a voice, which
said:
'Let down, let down thy petticoat
That lets thy feet be seen.'
She turned round in surprise, and then she saw the little creature, the
Golden Crab.
[Illustration: "Let down thy petticoat that lets thy feet be seen"]
'What! You can speak, can you, you ridiculous crab?' she said, for she
was not quite pleased at the Crab's remarks. Then she took him up and
placed him on a dish.
When her husband came home and they sat down to dinner, they presently
heard the Crab's little voice saying, 'Give me some too.' They were all
very much surprised, but they gave him something to eat. When the old
man came to take away the plate which had contained the Crab's dinner,
he found it full of gold, and as the same thing happened every day he
soon became very fond of the Crab.
One day the Crab said to the fisherman's wife, 'Go to the King and tell
him I wish to marry his younger daughter.'
The old woman went accordingly, and laid the matter before the King, who
laughed a little at the notion of his daughter marrying a crab, but did
not decline the proposal altogether, because he was a prudent monarch,
and knew that the Crab was likely to be a prince in disguise. He said,
therefore, to the fisherman's wife, 'Go, old woman, and tell the Crab I
will give him my daughter if by to-morrow morning he can build a wall in
front of my castle much higher than my tower, upon which all the flowers
of the world must grow and bloom.'
The fisherman's wife went home and gave this message.
Then the Crab gave her a golden rod, and said, 'Go and strike with this
rod three times upon the ground on the place which the King showed you,
and to-morrow morning the wall will be there.'
The old woman did so and went away again.
The next morning, when the King awoke, what do you think he saw? The
wall stood there before his eyes, exactly as he had bespoken it!
Then the old woman went back to the King and said to him, 'Your
Majesty's orders have been fulfilled.'
'That is all very well,' said the King, 'but I cannot give away my
daughter until there stands in front of my palace a garden in which
there are three fountains, of which the first must play gold, the second
diamonds, and the third brilliants.'
So the old woman had to strike again three times upon the ground with
the rod, and the next morning the garden was there. The King now gave
his consent, and the wedding was fixed for the very next day.
Then the Crab said to the old fisherman, 'Now take this rod; go and
knock with it on a certain mountain; then a black man will come out and
ask you what you wish for. Answer him thus: "Your master, the King, has
sent me to tell you that you must send him his golden garment that is
like the sun." Make him give you, besides, the queenly robes of gold
and precious stones which are like the flowery meadows and bring them
both to me. And bring me also the golden cushion.'
[Illustration: The fisherman brings the crab on the golden cushion.]
The old man went and did his errand. When he had brought the precious
robes, the Crab put on the golden garment and then crept upon the golden
cushion, and in this way the fisherman carried him to the castle, where
the Crab presented the other garment to his bride. Now the ceremony
took place, and when the married pair were alone together the Crab made
himself known to his young wife, and told her how he was the son of the
greatest king in the world, and how he was enchanted, so that he became
a crab by day and was a man only at night; and he could also change
himself into an eagle as often as he wished. No sooner had he said this
than he shook himself, and immediately became a handsome youth, but the
next morning he was forced to creep back again into his crab-shell. And
the same thing happened every day. But the Princess's affection for the
Crab, and the polite attention with which she behaved to him, surprised
the royal family very much. They suspected some secret, but though they
spied and spied, they could not discover it. Thus a year passed away,
and the Princess had a son, whom she called Benjamin. But her mother
still thought the whole matter very strange. At last she said to the
King that he ought to ask his daughter whether she would not like to
have another husband instead of the Crab. But when the daughter was
questioned she only answered:
'I am married to the Crab, and him only will I have.'
Then the King said to her, 'I will appoint a tournament in your honour,
and I will invite all the princes in the world to it, and if any one of
them pleases you, you shall marry him.'
In the evening the Princess told this to the Crab, who said to her,
'Take this rod, go to the garden gate and knock with it, then a black
man will come out and say to you, "Why have you called me, and what do
you require of me?" Answer him thus: "Your master the King has sent me
hither to tell you to send him his golden armour and his steed and the
silver apple." And bring them to me.'
The Princess did so, and brought him what he desired.
The following evening the Prince dressed himself for the tournament.
Before he went he said to his wife, 'Now mind you do not say when you
see me that I am the Crab. For if you do this evil will come of it.
Place yourself at the window with your sisters; I will ride by and throw
you the silver apple. Take it in your hand, but if they ask you who I
am, say that you do not know.' So saying, he kissed her, repeated his
warning once more, and went away.
The Princess went with her sisters to the window and looked on at the
tournament. Presently her husband rode by and threw the apple up to her.
She caught it in her hand and went with it to her room, and by-and-by
her husband came back to her. But her father was much surprised that
she did not seem to care about any of the princes; he therefore
appointed a second tournament.
The Crab then gave his wife the same directions as before, only this
time the apple which she received from the black man was of gold. But
before the Prince went to the tournament he said to his wife, 'Now I
know you will betray me to-day.'
But she swore to him that she would not tell who he was. He then
repeated his warning and went away.
[Illustration: The Prince throws the apple to the Princess]
In the evening, while the Princess, with her mother and sisters, was
standing at the window, the Prince suddenly galloped past on his steed
and threw her the golden apple.
Then her mother flew into a passion, gave her a box on the ear, and
cried out, 'Does not even that prince please you, you fool?'