There was once a wizard who used to take the form of a poor man, and
went to houses and begged, and caught pretty girls. No one knew whither
he carried them, for they were never seen more. One day he appeared
before the door of a man who had three pretty daughters; he looked like
a poor weak beggar, and carried a basket on his back, as if he meant to
collect charitable gifts in it. He begged for a little food, and when
the eldest daughter came out and was just reaching him a piece of
bread, he did but touch her, and she was forced to jump into his
basket. Thereupon he hurried away with long strides, and carried her
away into a dark forest to his house, which stood in the midst of it.
Everything in the house was magnificent; he gave her whatsoever she
could possibly desire, and said, “My darling, thou wilt certainly be
happy with me, for thou hast everything thy heart can wish for.” This
lasted a few days, and then he said, “I must journey forth, and leave
thee alone for a short time; there are the keys of the house; thou
mayst go everywhere and look at everything except into one room, which
this little key here opens, and there I forbid thee to go on pain of
death.” He likewise gave her an egg and said, “Preserve the egg
carefully for me, and carry it continually about with thee, for a great
misfortune would arise from the loss of it.”
She took the keys and the egg, and promised to obey him in everything.
When he was gone, she went all round the house from the bottom to the
top, and examined everything. The rooms shone with silver and gold, and
she thought she had never seen such great splendour. At length she came
to the forbidden door; she wished to pass it by, but curiosity let her
have no rest. She examined the key, it looked just like any other; she
put it in the keyhole and turned it a little, and the door sprang open.
But what did she see when she went in? A great bloody basin stood in
the middle of the room, and therein lay human beings, dead and hewn to
pieces, and hard by was a block of wood, and a gleaming axe lay upon
it. She was so terribly alarmed that the egg which she held in her hand
fell into the basin. She got it out and washed the blood off, but in
vain, it appeared again in a moment. She washed and scrubbed, but she
could not get it out.
It was not long before the man came back from his journey, and the
first things which he asked for were the key and the egg. She gave them
to him, but she trembled as she did so, and he saw at once by the red
spots that she had been in the bloody chamber. “Since thou hast gone
into the room against my will,” said he, “thou shalt go back into it
against thine own. Thy life is ended.” He threw her down, dragged her
thither by her hair, cut her head off on the block, and hewed her in
pieces so that her blood ran on the ground. Then he threw her into the
basin with the rest.
“Now I will fetch myself the second,” said the wizard, and again he
went to the house in the shape of a poor man, and begged. Then the
second daughter brought him a piece of bread; he caught her like the
first, by simply touching her, and carried her away. She did not fare
better than her sister. She allowed herself to be led away by her
curiosity, opened the door of the bloody chamber, looked in, and had to
atone for it with her life on the wizard’s return. Then he went and
brought the third sister, but she was clever and crafty. When he had
given her the keys and the egg, and had left her, she first put the egg
away with great care, and then she examined the house, and at last went
into the forbidden room. Alas, what did she behold! Both her sisters
lay there in the basin, cruelly murdered, and cut in pieces. But she
began to gather their limbs together and put them in order, head, body,
arms and legs. And when nothing further was wanting the limbs began to
move and unite themselves together, and both the maidens opened their
eyes and were once more alive. Then they rejoiced and kissed and
caressed each other.
On his arrival, the man at once demanded the keys and the egg, and as
he could perceive no trace of any blood on it, he said, “Thou hast
stood the test, thou shalt be my bride.” He now had no longer any power
over her, and was forced to do whatsoever she desired. “Oh, very well,”
said she, “thou shalt first take a basketful of gold to my father and
mother, and carry it thyself on thy back; in the meantime I will
prepare for the wedding.” Then she ran to her sisters, whom she had
hidden in a little chamber, and said, “The moment has come when I can
save you. The wretch shall himself carry you home again, but as soon as
you are at home send help to me.” She put both of them in a basket and
covered them quite over with gold, so that nothing of them was to be
seen, then she called in the wizard and said to him, “Now carry the
basket away, but I shall look through my little window and watch to see
if thou stoppest on the way to stand or to rest.”
The wizard raised the basket on his back and went away with it, but it
weighed him down so heavily that the perspiration streamed from his
face. Then he sat down and wanted to rest awhile, but immediately one
of the girls in the basket cried, “I am looking through my little
window, and I see that thou art resting. Wilt thou go on at once?” He
thought it was his bride who was calling that to him; and got up on his
legs again. Once more he was going to sit down, but instantly she
cried, “I am looking through my little window, and I see that thou art
resting. Wilt thou go on directly?” And whenever he stood still, she
cried this, and then he was forced to go onwards, until at last,
groaning and out of breath, he took the basket with the gold and the
two maidens into their parents’ house. At home, however, the bride
prepared the marriage-feast, and sent invitations to the friends of the
wizard. Then she took a skull with grinning teeth, put some ornaments
on it and a wreath of flowers, carried it upstairs to the
garret-window, and let it look out from thence. When all was ready, she
got into a barrel of honey, and then cut the feather-bed open and
rolled herself in it, until she looked like a wondrous bird, and no one
could recognize her. Then she went out of the house, and on her way she
met some of the wedding-guests, who asked,
“O, Fitcher’s bird, how com’st thou here?”
“I come from Fitcher’s house quite near.”
“And what may the young bride be doing?”
“From cellar to garret she’s swept all clean,
And now from the window she’s peeping, I ween.”
At last she met the bridegroom, who was coming slowly back. He, like
the others, asked,
“O, Fitcher’s bird, how com’st thou here?”
“I come from Fitcher’s house quite near.”
“And what may the young bride be doing?
“From cellar to garret she’s swept all clean,
And now from the window she’s peeping, I ween.”
The bridegroom looked up, saw the decked-out skull, thought it was his
bride, and nodded to her, greeting her kindly. But when he and his
guests had all gone into the house, the brothers and kinsmen of the
bride, who had been sent to rescue her, arrived. They locked all the
doors of the house, that no one might escape, set fire to it, and the
wizard and all his crew had to burn.