Grimms' Fairy Tales Read online

  The fisherman did not much like the business: however, he went to the sea, and when he came there the water looked all yellow and green. And he stood at the water’s edge, and said,

  ‘O man of the sea!

  Come listen to me,

  For Alice my wife,

  The plague of my life,

  Has sent me to beg a boon of thee!’

  Then the fish came swimming to him, and said, ‘Well, what does she want?’ ‘Ah!’ answered the fisherman, ‘my wife says that when I had caught you, I ought to have asked you for something before I let you go again; she does not like living any longer in the ditch, and wants a little cottage.’ ‘Go home, then,’ said the fish, ‘she is in the cottage already.’ So the man went home, and saw his wife standing at the door of a cottage. ‘Come in, come in,’ said she; ‘is not this much better than the ditch?’ And there was a parlour, and a bed-chamber, and a kitchen; and behind the cottage there was a little garden with all sorts of flowers and fruits, and a court-yard full of ducks and chickens. ‘Ah!’ said the fisherman, ‘how happily we shall live!’ ‘We will try to do so at least,’ said his wife.

  Every thing went right for a week or two, and then Dame Alice said, ‘Husband, there is not room enough in this cottage, the court-yard and garden are a great deal too small; I should like to have a large stone castle to live in; so go to the fish again, and tell him to give us a castle.’ ‘Wife,’ said the fisherman, ‘I don’t like to go to him again, for perhaps he will be angry; we ought to be content with the cottage.’ ‘Nonsense!’ said the wife; ‘he will do it very willingly; go along, and try.’

  The fisherman went; but his heart was very heavy: and when he came to the sea, it looked blue and gloomy, though it was quite calm, and he went close to it, and said,

  ‘O man of the sea!

  Come listen to me,

  For Alice my wife,

  The plague of my life,

  Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!’

  ‘Well, what does she want now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said the man very sorrowfully, ‘my wife wants to live in a stone castle.’ ‘Go home then,’ said the fish, ‘she is standing at the door of it already.’ So away went the fisherman, and found his wife standing before a great castle. ‘See,’ said she, ‘is not this grand?’ With that they went into the castle together, and found a great many servants there, and the rooms all richly furnished and full of golden chairs and tables; and behind the castle was a garden, and a wood half a mile long, full of sheep, and goats, and hares, and deer; and in the court-yard were stables and cow-houses. ‘Well,’ said the man, ‘now will we live contented and happy in this beautiful castle for the rest of our lives.’ ‘Perhaps we may,’ said the wife; ‘but let us consider and sleep upon it before we make up our minds:’ so they went to bed.

  The next morning, when Dame Alice awoke, it was broad day-light, and she jogged the fisherman with her elbow, and said, ‘Get up, husband, and bestir yourself, for we must be king of all the land.’ ‘Wife, wife,’ said the man, ‘why should we wish to be king? I will not be king.’ ‘Then I will,’ said Alice. ‘But, wife,’ answered the fisherman, ‘how can you be king? the fish cannot make you a king.’ ‘Husband,’ said she, ‘say no more about it, but go and try; I will be king!’ So the man went away, quite sorrowful to think that his wife should want to be king. The sea looked a dark grey colour, and was covered with foam as he cried out,

  ‘O man of the sea!

  Come listen to me,

  For Alice my wife,

  The plague of my life,

  Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!’

  ‘Well, what would she have now?’ said the fish. ‘Alas!’ said the man, ‘my wife wants to be king.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish; ‘she is king already.’

  Then the fisherman went home; and as he came close to the palace, he saw a troop of soldiers, and heard the sound of drums and trumpets; and when he entered in, he saw his wife sitting on a high throne of gold and diamonds, with a golden crown upon her head; and on each side of her stood six beautiful maidens, each a head taller than the other. ‘Well, wife,’ said the fisherman, ‘are you king?’ ‘Yes,’ said she, ‘I am king.’ And when he had looked at her for a long time, he said, ‘Ah, wife! what a fine thing it is to be king! now we shall never have any thing more to wish for.’ ‘I don’t know how that may be,’ said she; ‘never is a long time. I am king, ’tis true, but I begin to be tired of it, and I think I should like to be emperor.’ ‘Alas, wife! why should you wish to be emperor?’ said the fisherman. ‘Husband,’ said she, ‘go to the fish; I say I will be emperor.’ ‘Ah, wife!’ replied the fisherman, ‘the fish cannot make an emperor, and I should not like to ask for such a thing.’ ‘I am king,’ said Alice, ‘and you are my slave, so go directly!’ So the fisherman was obliged to go; and he muttered as he went along. ‘This will come to no good, it is too much to ask, the fish will be tired at last, and then we shall repent of what we have done.’ He soon arrived at the sea, and the water was quite black and muddy, and a mighty whirlwind blew over it; but he went to the shore, and said,

  ‘O man of the sea!

  Come listen to me,

  For Alice my wife,

  The plague of my life,

  Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!’

  ‘What would she have now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said the fisherman, ‘she wants to be emperor.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish; ‘she is emperor already.’

  So he went home again; and as he came near he saw his wife sitting on a very lofty throne made of solid gold, with a great crown on her head full two yards high, and on each side of her stood her guards and attendants in a row, each one smaller than the other, from the tallest giant down to a little dwarf no bigger than my finger. And before her stood princes, and dukes, and earls: and the fisherman went up to her and said, ‘Wife, are you emperor?’ ‘Yes,’ said she, ‘I am emperor.’ ‘Ah!’ said the man as he gazed upon her, ‘what a fine thing it is to be emperor!’ ‘Husband,’ said she, ‘why should we stay at being emperor; I will be pope next.’ ‘O wife, wife!’ said he, ‘how can you be pope? there is but one pope at a time in Christendom.’ ‘Husband,’ said she, ‘I will be pope this very day.’ ‘But,’ replied the husband, ‘the fish cannot make you pope.’ ‘What nonsense!’ said she, ‘if he can make an emperor, he can make a pope, go and try him.’ So the fisherman went. But when he came to the shore the wind was raging, and the sea was tossed up and down like boiling water, and the ships were in the greatest distress and danced upon the waves most fearfully; in the middle of the sky there was a little blue, but towards the south it was all red as if a dreadful storm was rising. At this the fisherman was terribly frightened, and trembled, so that his knees knocked together: but he went to the shore and said,

  ‘O man of the sea!

  Come listen to me,

  For Alice my wife,

  The plague of my life,

  Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!’

  ‘What does she want now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said the fisherman, ‘my wife wants to be pope.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish, ‘she is pope already.’

  Then the fisherman went home, and found his wife sitting on a throne that was two miles high; and she had three great crowns on her head, and around stood all the pomp and power of the Church; and on each side were two rows of burning lights, of all sizes, the greatest as large as the highest and biggest tower in the world, and the least no larger than a small rushlight. ‘Wife,’ said the fisherman as he looked at all this grandeur, ‘are you pope?’ ‘Yes,’ said she, ‘I am pope.’ ‘Well, wife,’ replied he, ‘it is a grand thing to be pope; and now you must be content, for you can be nothing greater.’ ‘I will consider of that,’ said the wife. Then they went to bed: but Dame Alice could not sleep all night for thinking what she should be next. At last morning came, and the sun rose. ‘Ha!’ thought she as she looked
at it through the window, ‘cannot I prevent the sun rising?’ At this she was very angry, and she wakened her husband, and said, ‘Husband, go to the fish and tell him I want to be lord of the sun and moon.’ The fisherman was half asleep, but the thought frightened him so much, that he started and fell out of bed. ‘Alas, wife!’ said he, ‘cannot you be content to be pope?’ ‘No,’ said she, ‘I am very uneasy, and cannot bear to see the sun and moon rise without my leave. Go to the fish directly.’

  Then the man went trembling for fear; and as he was going down to the shore a dreadful storm arose, so that the trees and the rocks shook; and the heavens became black, and the lightning played, and the thunder rolled; and you might have seen in the sea great black waves like mountains with a white crown of foam upon them; and the fisherman said,

  ‘O man of the sea!

  Come listen to me,

  For Alice my wife,

  The plague of my life,

  Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!’

  ‘What does she want now?’ said the fish. ‘Ah!’ said he, ‘she wants to be lord of the sun and moon.’ ‘Go home,’ said the fish, ‘to your ditch again!’ and there they live to this very day.

  The Tom-Tit and the Bear

  One summer day, as the wolf and the bear were walking together in a wood, they heard a bird singing most delightfully. ‘Brother,’ said the bear, ‘what can that bird be that is singing so sweetly?’ ‘O!’ said the wolf, ‘that is his majesty the king of the birds, we must take care to show him all possible respect.’ (Now I should tell you that this bird was after all no other than the tom-tit.) ‘If that is the case,’ said the bear, ‘I should like to see the royal palace; so pray come along and show it to me.’ ‘Gently, my friend,’ said the wolf, ‘we cannot see it just yet, we must wait till the queen comes home.’

  Soon afterwards the queen came with food in her beak, and she and the king began to feed their young ones. ‘Now for it!’ said the bear; and was about to follow them, to see what was to be seen. ‘Stop a little, master Bruin,’ said the wolf, ‘we must wait now till their majesties are gone again.’ So they marked the hole where they had seen the nest, and went away. But the bear, being very eager to see the royal palace, soon came back again, and peeping into the nest, saw five or six young birds lying at the bottom of it. ‘What nonsense!’ said Bruin, ‘this is not a royal palace: I never saw such a filthy place in my life; and you are no royal children, you little base-born brats!’ As soon as the young tom-tits heard this they were very angry, and screamed out, ‘We are not base-born, you stupid bear! our father and mother are honest good sort of people: and depend upon it you shall suffer for your insolence!’ At this the wolf and the bear grew frightened, and ran away to their dens. But the young tom-tits kept crying and screaming; and when their father and mother came home and offered them food, they all said, ‘We will not touch a bit; no, not the leg of a fly, though we should die of hunger, till that rascal Bruin has been punished for calling us base-born brats.’ ‘Make yourselves easy, my darlings,’ said the old king, ‘you may be sure he shall meet with his deserts.’

  So he went out and stood before the bear’s den, and cried out with a loud voice, ‘Bruin the bear! thou hast shamefully insulted our lawful children: we therefore hereby declare bloody and cruel war against thee and thine, which shall never cease until thou hast been punished as thou so richly deservest.’ Now when the bear heard this, he called together the ox, the ass, the stag, and all the beasts of the earth, in order to consult about the means of his defence. And the tom-tit also enlisted on his side all the birds of the air, both great and small, and a very large army of hornets, gnats, bees, and flies, and other insects.

  As the time approached when the war was to begin, the tom-tit sent out spies to see who was the commander-in-chief of the enemy’s forces; and the gnat, who was by far the cleverest spy of them all, flew backwards and forwards in the wood where the enemy’s troops were, and at last hid himself under a leaf on a tree, close by which the orders of the day were given out. And the bear, who was standing so near the tree that the gnat could hear all he said, called to the fox and said, ‘Reynard, you are the cleverest of all the beasts; therefore you shall be our general and lead us to battle: but we must first agree upon some signal, by which we may know what you want us to do.’ ‘Behold,’ said the fox, ‘I have a fine, long, bushy tail, which is very like a plume of red feathers, and gives me a very warlike air: now remember, when you see me raise up my tail, you may be sure that the battle is won, and you have then nothing to do but to rush down upon the enemy with all your force. On the other hand, if I drop my tail, the day is lost, and you must run away as fast as you can.’ Now when the gnat had heard all this, he flew back to the tom-tit and told him every thing that had passed.

  At length the day came when the battle was to be fought; and as soon as it was light, behold! the army of beasts came rushing forward with such a fearful sound that the earth shook. And his majesty the tom-tit, with his troops, came flying along in warlike array, flapping and fluttering, and beating the air, so that it was quite frightful to hear; and both armies set themselves in order of battle upon the field. Now the tom-tit gave orders to a troop of hornets that at the first onset they should march straight towards Captain Reynard, and fixing themselves about his tail, should sting him with all their might and main. The hornets did as they were told: and when Reynard felt the first sting, he started aside and shook one of his legs, but still held up his tail with wonderful bravery; at the second sting he was forced to drop his tail for a moment; but when the third hornet had fixed itself, he could bear it no longer, but clapped his tail between his legs and scampered away as fast as he could. As soon as the beasts saw this, they thought of course all was lost, and scoured across the country in the greatest dismay, leaving the birds masters of the field.

  And now the king and queen flew back in triumph to their children, and said, ‘Now, children, eat, drink, and be merry, for the victory is ours!’ But the young birds said, ‘No; not till Bruin has humbly begged our pardon for calling us base-born.’ So the king flew back to the bear’s den, and cried out, ‘Thou villain bear! come forthwith to my abode, and humbly beseech my children to forgive thee the insult thou hast offered them; for, if thou wilt not do this, every bone in thy wretched body shall be broken to pieces.’ So the bear was forced to crawl out of his den very sulkily, and do what the king bid him: and after that the young birds sat down together, and ate and drank and made merry till midnight.

  The Twelve Dancing Princesses

  There was a king who had twelve beautiful daughters. They slept in twelve beds all in one room; and when they went to bed, the doors were shut and locked up; but every morning their shoes were found to be quite worn through as if they had been danced in all night; and yet nobody could find out how it happened, or where they had been.

  Then the king made it known to all the land, that if any person could discover the secret, and find out where it was that the princesses danced in the night, he should have the one he liked best for his wife, and should be king after his death; but whoever tried and did not succeed, after three days and nights, should be put to death.

  A king’s son soon came. He was well entertained, and in the evening was taken to the chamber next to the one where the princesses lay in their twelve beds. There he was to sit and watch where they went to dance; and, in order that nothing might pass without his hearing it, the door of his chamber was left open. But the king’s son soon fell asleep; and when he awoke in the morning he found that the princesses had all been dancing, for the soles of their shoes were full of holes. The same thing happened the second and third night: so the king ordered his head to be cut off. After him came several others; but they had all the same luck, and all lost their lives in the same manner.

  Now it chanced that an old soldier, who had been wounded in battle and could fight no longer, passed through the country where this king reigne
d: and as he was travelling through a wood, he met an old woman, who asked him where he was going. ‘I hardly know where I am going, or what I had better do,’ said the soldier; ‘but I think I should like very well to find out where it is that the princesses dance, and then in time I might be a king.’ ‘Well,’ said the old dame, ‘that is no very hard task: only take care not to drink any of the wine which one of the princesses will bring to you in the evening; and as soon as she leaves you pretend to be fast asleep.’

  Then she gave him a cloak, and said, ‘As soon as you put that on you will become invisible, and you will then be able to follow the princesses wherever they go.’ When the soldier heard all this good counsel, he determined to try his luck: so he went to the king, and said he was willing to undertake the task.

  He was as well received as the others had been, and the king ordered fine royal robes to be given him; and when the evening came he was led to the outer chamber. Just as he was going to lie down, the eldest of the princesses brought him a cup of wine; but the soldier threw it all away secretly, taking care not to drink a drop. Then he laid himself down on his bed, and in a little while began to snore very loud as if he was fast asleep. When the twelve princesses heard this they laughed heartily; and the eldest said, ‘This fellow too might have done a wiser thing than lose his life in this way!’ Then they rose up and opened their drawers and boxes, and took out all their fine clothes, and dressed themselves at the glass, and skipped about as if they were eager to begin dancing. But the youngest said, ‘I don’t know how it is, while you are so happy I feel very uneasy; I am sure some mischance will befall us.’ ‘You simpleton,’ said the eldest, ‘you are always afraid; have you forgotten how many kings’ sons have already watched us in vain? And as for this soldier, even if I had not given him his sleeping draught, he would have slept soundly enough.’