The True Sweetheart

There was once upon a time a girl who was young and beautiful, but
she had lost her mother when she was quite a child, and her
step-mother did all she could to make the girl's life wretched.
Whenever this woman gave her anything to do, she worked at it
indefatigably, and did everything that lay in her
power. Still she could not touch the heart of the wicked woman,
she was never satisfied, it was never enough. The harder the girl
worked, the more work was put upon her, and all that the woman
thought of was how to weigh her down with still heavier burdens,
and make her life still more miserable.
One day she said to her, here are twelve pounds of feathers which
you must pick, and if they are not done this evening, you may
expect a good beating. Do you imagine you are to idle away the
whole day. The poor girl sat down to the work, but tears ran
down her cheeks as she did so, for she saw plainly enough that it
was quite impossible to finish the work in one day. Whenever she
had a little heap of feathers lying before her, and she sighed or
smote her hands together in her anguish, they flew away, and she
had to pick them up again, and begin her work anew. Then she put
her elbows on the table, laid her face in her two hands, and cried,
is there no one, then, on God's earth to have pity on me. Then
she heard a low voice which said, be comforted, my child, I have
come to help you. The maiden looked up, and an old woman was by
her side. She took the girl kindly by the hand, and said, only
tell me what is troubling you. As she spoke so kindly, the girl
told her of her miserable life, and how one burden after another
was laid upon her, and she never could get to the end of the work
which was given to her. If I have not done these feathers by this
evening, my step-mother will beat me, she has threatened she will,
and I know she keeps her word. Her tears began to flow again, but
the good old woman said, do not be afraid, my child, rest a while,
and in the meantime I will look to your work. The girl lay
down on her bed, and soon fell asleep. The old woman seated
herself at the table with the feathers, and how they did fly off
the quills, which she scarcely touched with her withered hands.
The twelve pounds were soon finished, and when the girl awoke,
great snow-white heaps were lying, piled up, and everything in
the room was neatly cleared away, but the old woman had
vanished. The maiden thanked God, and sat still till evening
came, when the step-mother came in and marveled to see the work
completed. Just look, you
awkward creature, said she, what can be done when people are
industrious, and why could you not set about something else.
There you sit with your hands crossed. When she went out she
said, the creature is worth more than her salt. I must give her
some work that is still harder.
Next morning she called the girl, and said there is a spoon for
you. With that you must empty out the great pond which is
beside the garden, and if it is not done by night, you know what
will happen. The girl took the spoon, and saw that it was full
of holes, but even if it had not been, she never could have
emptied the pond with it. She set to work at once, knelt down
by the water, into which her tears were falling, and began to
empty it. But the good old woman appeared again, and when she
learnt the cause of her grief, she said, be of good cheer, my
child. Go into the thicket and lie down and sleep, I will soon
do your work. As soon as the old woman was alone, she barely
touched the pond, and a vapor rose up on high from the water, and
mingled itself with the clouds. Gradually the pond was emptied,
and when the maiden awoke before sunset and came thither, she saw
nothing but the fishes which were struggling in the mud. She
went to her step-mother, and showed her that the work was done.
It ought to have been done long before this, said she, and grew
white with anger, but she meditated something new.
On the third morning she said to the girl, you must build me a
castle on the plain there, and it must be ready by the
evening. The maiden was dismayed, and said, how can I complete
such a great work. I will endure no opposition, screamed the
step-mother. If you can empty a pond with a spoon that is full of
holes, you can build a castle too. I will take possession of
it this very day, and if anything is wanting, even if it be the
most trifling thing in the kitchen or cellar, you know what lies
before you. She drove the girl out, and when she entered the
valley, the rocks were there, piled up one above the other, and
all her strength would not have enabled her even to move the very
smallest of them. She sat down and wept, and still she hoped the
old woman would help her. The old woman was not long in coming,
she comforted her and said, lie down
there in the shade and sleep, and I will soon build the castle for
you. If it would be a pleasure to you, you can live in it
yourself. When the maiden had gone away, the old woman touched the
gray rocks. They began to rise, moved together and stood there as
if giants had built the walls, and on these the building arose
and it seemed as if countless hands were working invisibly, and
placing one stone upon another. There was a dull heavy noise from
the ground, pillars arose of their own accord on high, and
placed themselves in order near each other. The tiles laid
themselves in order on the roof, and when noon-day came, the
great weather-cock was already turning itself on the summit of the
tower, like a golden maid with fluttering garments. The inside
of the castle was being finished while evening was drawing near.
How the old woman managed it, I know not, but the walls of the
rooms were hung with silk and velvet, embroidered chairs were
there, and richly ornamented arm-chairs by marble tables,
crystal chandeliers hung down from the ceilings, and mirrored
themselves in the smooth floor, green parrots were there in gilt
cages, and so were strange birds which sang most beautifully, and
there was on all sides as much magnificence as if a king were
going to live there. The sun was just setting when the girl
awoke, and the brightness of a thousand lights flashed in her
face. She hurried to the castle, and entered by the open door.
The steps were spread with red cloth, and the golden
balustrade beset with flowering trees. When she saw the
splendor of the rooms, she stood as if turned to stone. Who
knows how long she might have stood there if she had not
remembered the step-mother. Alas, she said to herself, if she
could but be satisfied at last, and would give up making my life
a misery to me. The girl went and told her that the castle was
ready. I will move into it at once, said she, and rose from her
seat. When they entered the castle, she was forced to hold her
hand before her eyes, the brilliancy of everything was so
dazzling. You see, said she to the girl, how easy it has been
for you to do this, I ought to have given you something harder.
She went through all the rooms, and examined every corner to
see if anything was wanting or defective, but she could
discover nothing. Now we will go down below, said she, looking
at the girl with malicious eyes. The kitchen and the cellar
still have to be examined and if you have forgotten anything you
shall not escape your punishment. But the fire was burning on
the hearth, and the meat was cooking in the pans, the tongs and
shovel were leaning against the wall, and the shining brazen
utensils all arranged in sight. Nothing was missing, not even
a coal-box and a water-pail. Which is the way to the cellar,
she cried. If that is not abundantly filled with wine casks
it shall go ill with you. She herself raised up the trap-door
and descended, but she had hardly made two steps before the
heavy trap-door which was only laid back, fell down. The girl
heard a scream, lifted up the door very quickly to go to her
aid, but she had fallen down, and the girl found her lying
lifeless at the bottom.
And now the magnificent castle belonged to the girl alone. She
at first did not know how to reconcile herself to her good
fortune. Beautiful dresses were hanging in the wardrobes, the
chests were filled with gold and silver, or with pearls and
jewels, and she never felt a desire that she was not able to
gratify. And soon the fame of the beauty and riches of the
maiden went over all the world. Wooers presented themselves
daily but none pleased her. At length the son of the king came
and he knew how to touch her heart, and she betrothed herself
to him. In the garden of the castle was a lime-tree, under
which they were one day sitting together, when he said to her,
I will go home and obtain my father's consent to our marriage.
I entreat you to wait for me under this lime-tree, I shall be
back with you in a few hours. The maiden kissed him on his
left cheek, and said, keep true to me, and never let any one else
kiss you on this cheek. I will wait here under the lime-tree
until you return.
The maid stayed beneath the lime-tree until sunset, but he did
not return. She sat three days from morning till evening,
waiting for him, but in vain. As he still was not there by the
fourth day, she said, some accident has assuredly befallen him.
I will go out and seek him, and will not come back until I have
found him.
She packed up three of her most beautiful dresses, one embroidered
with bright stars, the second with silver moons, the third with
golden suns, tied up a handful of jewels in her handkerchief,
and set out. She inquired everywhere for her betrothed, but no
one had seen him, no one knew anything about him. Far and wide
did she wander through the world, but she found him not. At
last she hired herself to a farmer as a cowherd, and buried her
dresses and jewels beneath a stone.
And now she lived as a herdswoman, guarded her herd, and was
very sad and full of longing for her beloved. She had a little
calf which she taught to know her, and fed it out of her own
hand, and when she said,
little calf, little calf, kneel by my side,
and do not forget your cowherd-maid,
as the prince forgot his betrothed bride,
who waited for him 'neath the lime-tree's shade.
The little calf knelt down, and she stroked it.
And when she had lived for a couple of years alone and full of
grief, a report was spread over all the land that the king's
daughter was about to celebrate her marriage. The road to the
town passed through the village where the maiden was living, and
it came to pass that once when the maiden was driving out her
herd, the bridegroom traveled by. He was sitting proudly on his
horse, and never looked round, but when she saw him she recognized
her beloved, and it was just as if a sharp knife had pierced her
heart. Alas, said she, I believed him true to me, but he has
forgotten me.
Next day he again came along the road. When he was near her
she said to the little calf,
little calf, little calf, kneel by my side,
and do not forget your cowherd-maid,
as the prince forgot his betrothed bride,
who waited for him 'neath the lime-tree's shade.
When he was aware of the voice, he looked down and reined in
his horse. He looked into the girl's face and then put his hands
before his eyes as if he were trying to remember something, but he
soon rode onwards and was out of sight. Alas, said she, he no
longer knows me. And her grief was ever greater.
Soon after this a great festival three days long was to be held at
the king's court, and the whole country was invited to it.
Now will I try my last chance, thought the maiden, and when
evening came she went to the stone under which she had buried her
treasures. She took out the dress with the golden suns, put it on,
and adorned herself with the jewels. She let down her hair, which
she had concealed under a handkerchief, and it fell down in long
curls about her, and thus she went into the town, and in the
darkness was observed by no one. When she entered the brightly
lighted hall, every one started back in amazement, but no one knew
who she was. The king's son went to meet her, but he did not
recognize her. He led her out to dance, and was so enchanted with
her beauty, that he thought no more of the other bride. When the
feast was over, she vanished in the crowd, and hastened before
daybreak to the village, where she once more put on her herd's
dress.
Next evening she took out the dress with the silver moons, and
put a half-moon made of precious stones in her hair. When she
appeared at the festival, all eyes were turned upon her, but the
king's son hastened to meet her, and filled with love for her,
danced with her alone, and no longer so much as glanced at anyone
else. Before she went away she was forced to promise him to
come again to the festival on the last evening.
When she appeared for the third time, she wore the star-dress
which sparkled at every step she took, and her hair-ribbon and
girdle were starred with jewels. The prince had already been
waiting for her for a long time, and forced his way up to her.
Do but tell who you are, said he, I feel just as if I had already
known you a long time. Do you not know what I did when you left
me. Then she stepped up to him, and kissed him on his left cheek,
and in a moment it was as if scales fell from his eyes, and he
recognized the true bride. Come, said he to her, here I stay no
longer, gave her his hamd, and led her down to the carriage. The
horses hurried
away to the magic castle as if the wind had been harnessed to the
carriage. The illuminated windows already shone in the distance.
When they drove past the lime-tree, countless glow-worms were
swarming about it. It shook its branches, and sent forth their
fragrance. On the steps flowers were blooming, and the room
echoed with the song of strange birds, but in the hall the entire
court was assembled, and the priest was waiting to marry the
bridegroom and the true bride.