Once on a time there was a princess who was so proud and pert that no
suitor was good enough for her. She made game of them all, and sent
them about their business, one after the other; but though she was so
proud, still new suitors kept on coming to the palace, for she was a
beauty, the wicked hussey!
So one day there came a prince to woo her, and his name was Hacon
Grizzlebeard; but the first night he was there, the Princess bade the
king’s fool cut off the ears of one of the prince’s horses, and slit
the jaws of the other up to the ears. When the prince went out to drive
next day, the Princess stood in the porch and looked at him.
“Well!” she cried, “I never saw the like of this in all my life; the
keen north wind that blows here has taken the ears off one of your
horses, and the other has stood by and gaped at what was going on till
his jaws have split right up to his ears.”
And with that she burst out into a roar of laughter, ran in, slammed to
the door, and let him drive off.
So he drove home; but as he went, he thought to himself that he would
pay her off one day. After a bit, he put on a great beard of moss,
threw a great fur cloak over his clothes, and dressed himself up just
like any beggar. He went to a goldsmith and bought a golden spinning
wheel, and sat down with it under the Princess’ window, and began to
file away at his spinning wheel, and to turn it this way and that, for
it wasn’t quite in order, and, besides, it wanted a stand.
So when the Princess rose up in the morning, she came to the window and
threw it up, and called out to the beggar if he would sell his golden
spinning-wheel?
“No; it isn’t for sale”, said Hacon Grizzlebeard; “but if I may have
leave to sleep outside your bedroom door to-night, I’ll give it you.”
Well, the Princess thought it a good bargain; there could be no danger
in letting him sleep outside her door.
So she got the wheel, and at night Hacon Grizzlebeard lay down outside
her bedroom. But as the night wore on he began to freeze.
“Hutetutetutetu! it is _so_ cold; do let me in”, he cried.
“You’ve lost your wits outright, I think”, said the Princess.
“Oh, hutetutetutetu! it is so bitter cold, pray do let me in”, said
Hacon Grizzlebeard again.
“Hush! hush! hold your tongue!” said the Princess; “if my father were
to know that there was a man in the house, I should be in a fine
scrape.”
“Oh, hutetutetutetu! I’m almost frozen to death; only let me come
inside and lie on the floor”, said Hacon Grizzlebeard.
Yes! there was no help for it. She had to let him in, and when he was,
he lay on the ground and slept like a top.
Some time after, Hacon came again with the stand to the spinning-wheel,
and sat down under the Princess’ window, and began to file at it, for
it was not quite fit for use. When she heard him filing, she threw up
the window and began to talk to him, and to ask what he had there.
“Oh! only the stand to that spinning-wheel which your royal highness
bought; for I thought, as you had the wheel, you might like to have the
stand too.”
“What do you want for it?” asked the Princess; but it was not for sale
any more than the wheel, but she might have them if she would give him
leave to sleep on the floor of her bedroom next night.
Well! she gave him leave, only he was to be sure to lie still, and not
to shiver and call out “hutetu”, or any such stuff. Hacon Grizzlebeard
promised fair enough, but as the night wore on he began to shiver and
shake, and to ask whether he might not come nearer, and lie on the
floor alongside the Princess’ bed.
There was no help for it; she had to give him leave, lest the king
should hear the noise he made. So Hacon Grizzlebeard lay alongside the
Princess’ bed, and slept like a top.
It was a long while before Hacon Grizzlebeard came again; but when he
came he had with him a golden wool-winder, and he sat down and began to
file away at it under the Princess’ window. Then came the old story
over again. When the Princess heard what was going on, she came to the
window, and asked him how he did, and whether he would sell the golden
wool-winder?
“It is not to be had for money; but if you’ll give me leave to sleep
to-night in your bedroom, with my head on your bedstead, you shall have
it for nothing”, said Hacon Grizzlebeard.
Well! she would give him leave, if he only gave his word to be quiet,
and make no noise. So he said he would do his best to be still; but as
the night wore on, he began to shiver and shake so, that his teeth
chattered again.
“Hutetutetutetu! it is so bitter cold! Oh, do let me get into bed and
warm myself a little”, said Hacon Grizzlebeard.
“Get into bed!” said the Princess; “why, you must have lost your wits.”
“Hutetutetutetu!” said Hacon; “do let me get into bed. Hutetutetutetu.”
“Hush! hush! be still for God’s sake”, said the Princess; “if father
knows there is a man in here, I shall be in a sad plight. I’m sure
he’ll kill me on the spot.”
“Hutetutetutetu! let me get into bed”, said Hacon Grizzlebeard, who
kept on shivering so that the whole room shook.
Well! there was no help for it; she had to let him get into bed, where
he slept both sound and soft; but a little while after the Princess had
a child, at which the king grew so wild with rage, that he was near
making an end of both mother and babe. Just after this happened, came
Hacon Grizzlebeard tramping that way once more, as if by chance, and
took his seat down in the kitchen, like any other beggar.
So when the Princess came out and saw him, she cried, “Ah, God have
mercy on me, for the ill-luck you have brought on me; father is ready
to burst with rage; do let me follow you to your home.”
“Oh! I’ll be bound you’re too well bred to follow me”, said Hacon, “for
I have nothing but a log but to live in; and how I shall ever get food
for you I can’t tell, for it’s just as much as I can do to get food for
myself.”
“Oh yes! it’s all the same to me how you get it, or whether you get it
at all”, she said; “only let me be with you, for if I stay here any
longer, my father will be sure to take my life.”
So she got leave to be with the beggar, as she called him, and they
walked a long, long way, though she was but a poor hand at tramping.
When she passed out of her father’s land into another, she asked whose
it was?
“Oh! this is Hacon Grizzlebeard’s, if you must know”, said he.
“Indeed!” said the Princess; “I might have married him if I chose, and
then I should not have had to walk about like a beggar’s wife.”
So, whenever they came to grand castles, and woods, and parks, and she
asked whose they were? the beggar’s answer was still the same: “Oh:
they are Hacon Grizzlebeard’s.” And the Princess was in a sad way that
she had not chosen the man who had such broad lands. Last of all, they
came to a palace, where he said he was known, and where he thought he
could get her work, so that they might have something to live on; so he
built up a cabin by the woodside for them to dwell in; and every day he
went to the king’s palace, as he said, to hew wood and draw water for
the cook, and when he came back he brought a few scraps of meat; but
they did not go very far. One day, when he came home from the palace,
he said: “To-morrow I will stay at home and look after the baby, but
you must get ready to go to the palace, do you hear! for the Prince
said you were to come and try your hand at baking.”
“I bake!” said the Princess; “I can’t bake, for I never did such a
thing in my life.”
“Well, you must go”, said Hacon, “since the Prince has said it. If you
can’t bake, you can learn; you have only got to look how the rest bake;
and mind, when you leave, you must steal me some bread.”
“I can’t steal”, said the Princess.
“You can learn that too”, said Hacon; “you know we live on short
commons. But take care that the Prince doesn’t see you, for he has eyes
at the back of his head.”
So when she was well on her way, Hacon ran by a short cut and reached
the palace long before her, and threw off his rags and beard, and put
on his princely robes.
The Princess took her turn in the bakehouse, and did as Hacon bade her,
for she stole bread till her pockets were crammed full. So when she was
about to go home at even, the Prince said:
“We don’t know much of this old wife of Hacon Grizzlebeard’s, I think
we’d best see if she has taken anything away with her.”
So he thrust his hand into all her pockets, and felt her all over, and
when he found the bread, he was in a great rage, and led them all a sad
life. She began to weep and bewail, and said:
“The beggar made me do it, and I couldn’t help it.” “Well”, said the
Prince at last, “it ought to have gone hard with you; but all the same,
for the sake of the beggar you shall be forgiven this once.”
When she was well on her way, he threw off his robes, put on his skin
cloak, and his false beard, and reached the cabin before her. When she
came home, he was busy nursing the baby.
“Well, you have made me do what it went against my heart to do. This is
the first time I ever stole, and this shall be the last”; and with that
she told him how it had gone with her, and what the Prince had said.
A few days after Hacon Grizzlebeard came home at even and said:
“To-morrow I must stay at home and mind the babe, for they are going to
kill a pig at the palace, and you must help to make the sausages.”
“I make sausages!” said the Princess; “I can’t do any such thing. I
have eaten sausages often enough; but as to making them, I never made
one in my life.”
Well, there was no help for it; the Prince had said it, and go she
must. As for not knowing how, she was only to do what the others did,
and at the same time Hacon bade her steal some sausages for him.
“Nay, but I can’t steal them”, she said; “you know how it went last
time.”
“Well, you can learn to steal; who knows but you may have better luck
next time”, said Hacon Grizzlebeard.
When she was well on her way, Hacon ran by a short cut, reached the
palace long before her, threw off his skin cloak and false beard, and
stood in the kitchen with his royal robes before she came in. So the
Princess stood by when the pig was killed, and made sausages with the
rest, and did as Hacon bade her, and stuffed her pockets full of
sausages. But when she was about to go home at even, the Prince said:
“This beggar’s wife was long-fingered last time; we may as well just
see if she hasn’t carried anything off.”
So he began to thrust his hands into her pockets, and when he found the
sausages he was in a great rage again, and made a great to do,
threatening to send for the constable and put her into the cage.
“Oh, God bless your royal highness; do let me off! The beggar made me
do it”, she said, and wept bitterly.
“Well”, said Hacon, “you ought to smart for it; but for the beggar’s
sake you shall be forgiven.”
When she was gone, he changed his clothes again, ran by the short cut,
and when she reached the cabin, there he was before her. Then she told
him the whole story, and swore, through thick and thin, it should be
the last time he got her to do such a thing.
Now, it fell out a little time after, when the man came back from the
palace, he said:
“Our Prince is going to be married, but the bride is sick, so the
tailor can’t measure her for her wedding gown. And the Prince’s will
is, that you should go up to the palace and be measured instead of the
bride; for he says you are just the same height and shape. But after
you have been measured, mind you don’t go away; you can stand about,
you know, and when the tailor cuts out the gown, you can snap up the
largest pieces, and bring them home for a waistcoat for me.”
“Nay, but I can’t steal”, she said; “besides, you know how it went last
time.”
“You can learn then”, said Hacon, “and you may have better luck,
perhaps.”
She thought it bad, but still she went and did as she was told. She
stood by while the tailor was cutting out the gown, and she swept down
all the biggest scraps, and stuffed them into her pockets; and when she
was going away, the Prince said:
“We may as well see if this old girl has not been long-fingered this
time too.”
So he began to feel and search her pockets, and when he found the
pieces he was in a rage, and began to stamp and scold at a great rate,
while she wept and said:
“Ah, pray forgive me; the beggar bade me do it, and I couldn’t help
it.”
“Well, you ought to smart for it”, said Hacon; “but for the beggar’s
sake it shall be forgiven you.”
So it went now just as it had gone before, and when she got back to the
cabin, the beggar was there before her.
“Oh, Heaven help me”, she said; “you will be the death of me at last,
by making me nothing but what is wicked. The Prince was in such a
towering rage that he threatened me both with the constable and cage.”
Sometime after, Hacon came home to the cabin at even and said:
“Now, the Prince’s will is, that you should go up to the palace and
stand for the bride, old lass! for the bride is still sick, and keeps
her bed; but he won’t put off the wedding; and he says, you are so like
her, that no one could tell one from the other; so to-morrow you must
get ready to go to the palace.”
“I think you’ve lost your wits, both the Prince and you”, said she. “Do
you think I look fit to stand in the bride’s place? look at me! Can any
beggar’s trull look worse than I?”
“Well, the Prince said you were to go, and so go you must”, said Hacon
Grizzlebeard.
There was no help for it, go she must; and when she reached the palace,
they dressed her out so finely that no princess ever looked so smart.
The bridal train went to church, where she stood for the bride, and
when they came back, there was dancing and merriment in the palace. But
just as she was in the midst of dancing with the Prince, she saw a
gleam of light through the window, and lo! the cabin by the wood-side
was all one bright flame.
“Oh! the beggar, and the babe, and the cabin”, she screamed out, and
was just going to swoon away.
“Here is the beggar, and there is the babe, and so let the cabin burn
away”, said Hacon Grizzlebeard.
Then she knew him again, and after that the mirth and merriment began
in right earnest; but since that I have never heard tell anything more
about them.