Prince Ring

Prince Ring; you must have seen to my husband and

children.’

Snati saw that she was about to attack them, and sprang at her with a

red-hot iron from the fire, while Ring kept pouring boiling porridge

on her without stopping, and in this way they at last got her killed.

Then they burned the old troll and her to ashes, and explored the

cave, where they found plenty of gold and treasures. The most valuable

of these they carried with them as far as the cliff, and left them

there. Then they hastened home to the King with his three treasures,

where they arrived late on Christmas night, and Ring handed them over

to him.

The King was beside himself with joy, and was astonished at how clever

a man Ring was in all kinds of feats, so that he esteemed him still

more highly than before, and betrothed his daughter to him; and the

feast for this was to last all through Christmastide. Ring thanked the

King courteously for this and all his other kindnesses, and as soon as

he had finished eating and drinking in the hall went off to sleep in

his own room. Snati, however, asked permission to sleep in the

Prince’s bed for that night, while the Prince should sleep where the

Dog usually lay. Ring said he was welcome to do so, and that he

deserved more from him than that came to. So Snati went up into the

Prince’s bed, but after a time he came back, and told Ring he could go

there himself now, but to take care not to meddle with anything that

was in the bed.

Now the story comes back to Red, who came into the hall and showed the

King his right arm wanting the hand, and said that now he could see

what kind of a man his intended son-in-law was, for he had done this

to him without any cause whatever. The King became very angry, and

said he would soon find out the truth about it, and if Ring had cut

off his hand without good cause he should be hanged; but if it was

otherwise, then Red should die. So the King sent for Ring and asked

him for what reason he had done this. Snati, however, had just told

Ring what had happened during the night, and in reply he asked the

King to go with him and he would show him something. The King went

with him to his sleeping-room, and saw lying on the bed a man’s hand

holding a sword.

‘This hand,’ said Ring, ‘came over the partition during the night, and

was about to run me through in my bed, if I had not defended myself.’

The King answered that in that case he could not blame him for

protecting his own life, and that Red was well worthy of death. So Red

was hanged, and Ring married the King’s daughter.

The first night that they went to bed together Snati asked Ring to

allow him to lie at their feet, and this Ring allowed him to do.

During the night he heard a howling and outcry beside them, struck a

light in a hurry and saw an ugly dog’s skin lying near him, and a

beautiful Prince in the bed. Ring instantly took the skin and burned

it, and then shook the Prince, who was lying unconscious, until he

woke up. The bridegroom then asked his name; he replied that he was

called Ring, and was a King’s son. In his youth he had lost his

mother, and in her place his father had married a witch, who had laid

a spell on him that he should turn into a dog, and never be released

from the spell unless a Prince of the same name as himself allowed him

to sleep at his feet the first night after his marriage. He added

further, ‘As soon as she knew that you were my namesake she tried to

get you destroyed, so that you might not free me from the spell. She

was the hind that you and your companions chased; she was the woman

that you found in the clearing with the barrel, and the old hag that

we just now killed in the cave.’

After the feasting was over the two namesakes, along with other men,

went to the cliff and brought all the treasure home to the Palace.

Then they went to the island and removed all that was valuable from

it. Ring gave to his namesake, whom he had freed from the spell, his

sister Ingiborg and his father’s kingdom to look after, but he himself

stayed with his father-in-law the King, and had half the kingdom while

he lived and the whole of it after his death.

THE SWINEHERD

There was once a poor Prince. He possessed a kingdom which, though

small, was yet large enough for him to marry on, and married he wished

to be.

Now it was certainly a little audacious of him to venture to say to

the Emperor’s daughter, ‘Will you marry me?’ But he did venture to say

so, for his name was known far and wide. There were hundreds of

princesses who would gladly have said ‘Yes,’ but would she say the

same?

Well, we shall see.

On the grave of the Prince’s father grew a rose-tree, a very beautiful

rose-tree. It only bloomed every five years, and then bore but a

single rose, but oh, such a rose! Its scent was so sweet that when you

smelt it you forgot all your cares and troubles. And he had also a

nightingale which could sing as if all the beautiful melodies in the

world were shut up in its little throat. This rose and this

nightingale the Princess was to have, and so they were both put into

silver caskets and sent to her.

The Emperor had them brought to him in the great hall, where the

Princess was playing ‘Here comes a duke a-riding’ with her

ladies-in-waiting. And when she caught sight of the big caskets which

contained the presents, she clapped her hands for joy.

‘If only it were a little pussy-cat!’ she said. But the rose-tree with

the beautiful rose came out.

‘But how prettily it is made!’ said all the ladies-in-waiting.

‘It is more than pretty,’ said the Emperor, ‘it is charming!’

But the Princess felt it, and then she almost began to cry.

‘Ugh! Papa,’ she said, ‘it is not artificial, it is real!’

‘Ugh!’ said all the ladies-in-waiting, ‘it is real!’

‘Let us see first what is in the other casket before we begin to be

angry,’ thought the Emperor, and there came out the nightingale. It

sang so beautifully that one could scarcely utter a cross word against

it.

‘Superbe! charmant!’ said the ladies-in-waiting, for they all

chattered French, each one worse than the other.

‘How much the bird reminds me of the musical snuff-box of the late

Empress!’ said an old courtier. ‘Ah, yes, it is the same tone, the

same execution!’

‘Yes,’ said the Emperor; and then he wept like a little child.

‘I hope that this, at least, is not real?’ asked the Princess.

‘Yes, it is a real bird,’ said those who had brought it.

‘Then let the bird fly away,’ said the Princess; and she would not on

any account allow the Prince to come.

But he was nothing daunted. He painted his face brown and black, drew

his cap well over his face, and knocked at the door. ‘Good-day,

Emperor,’ he said. ‘Can I get a place here as servant in the castle?’

‘Yes,’ said the Emperor, ‘but there are so many who ask for a place

that I don’t know whether there will be one for you; but, still, I

will think of you. Stay, it has just occurred to me that I want

someone to look after the swine, for I have so very many of them.’

And the Prince got the situation of Imperial Swineherd. He had a

wretched little room close to the pigsties; here he had to stay, but

the whole day he sat working, and when evening was come he had made a

pretty little pot. All round it were little bells, and when the pot

boiled they jingled most beautifully and played the old tune—

  ‘Where is Augustus dear?

   Alas! he’s not here, here, here!’

But the most wonderful thing was, that when one held one’s finger in

the steam of the pot, then at once one could smell what dinner was

ready in any fire-place in the town. That was indeed something quite

different from the rose.

Now the Princess came walking past with all her ladies-in-waiting, and

when she heard the tune she stood still and her face beamed with joy,

for she also could play ‘Where is Augustus dear?’

It was the only tune she knew, but that she could play with one

finger.

[Illustration: The Swineherd Takes the Ten Kisses]

‘Why, that is what I play!’ she said. ‘He must be a most accomplished

Swineherd! Listen! Go down and ask him what the instrument costs.’

And one of the ladies-in-waiting had to go down; but she put on wooden

clogs. ‘What will you take for the pot?’ asked the lady-in-waiting.

‘I will have ten kisses from the Princess,’ answered the Swineherd.

‘Heaven forbid!’ said the lady-in-waiting.

‘Yes, I will sell it for nothing less,’ replied the Swineherd.

‘Well, what does he say?’ asked the Princess.

‘I really hardly like to tell you,’ answered the lady-in-waiting.

‘Oh, then you can whisper it to me.’

‘He is disobliging!’ said the Princess, and went away. But she had

only gone a few steps when the bells rang out so prettily—

 ‘Where is Augustus dear?

  Alas! he’s not here, here, here.’

‘Listen!’ said the Princess. ‘Ask him whether he will take ten kisses

from my ladies-in-waiting.’

‘No, thank you,’ said the Swineherd. ‘Ten kisses from the Princess, or

else I keep my pot.’

‘That is very tiresome!’ said the Princess. ‘But you must put

yourselves in front of me, so that no one can see.’

And the ladies-in-waiting placed themselves in front and then spread

out their dresses; so the Swineherd got his ten kisses, and she got

the pot.

What happiness that was! The whole night and the whole day the pot was

made to boil; there was not a fire-place in the whole town where they

did not know what was being cooked, whether it was at the chancellor’s

or at the shoemaker’s.

The ladies-in-waiting danced and clapped their hands.

‘We know who is going to have soup and pancakes; we know who is going

to have porridge and sausages—isn’t it interesting?’

‘Yes, very interesting!’ said the first lady-in-waiting.

‘But don’t say anything about it, for I am the Emperor’s daughter.’

‘Oh, no, of course we won’t!’ said everyone.

The Swineherd—that is to say, the Prince (though they did not know he

was anything but a true Swineherd)—let no day pass without making

something, and one day he made a rattle which, when it was turned

round, played all the waltzes, galops, and polkas which had ever been

known since the world began.

‘But that is superbe!’ said the Princess as she passed by. ‘I have

never heard a more beautiful composition. Listen! Go down and ask him

what this instrument costs; but I won’t kiss him again.’

‘He wants a hundred kisses from the Princess,’ said the

lady-in-waiting who had gone down to ask him.

‘I believe he is mad!’ said the Princess, and then she went on; but

she had only gone a few steps when she stopped.

‘One ought to encourage art,’ she said. ‘I am the Emperor’s daughter!

Tell him he shall have, as before, ten kisses; the rest he can take

from my ladies-in-waiting.’

‘But we don’t at all like being kissed by him,’ said the

ladies-in-waiting.

‘That’s nonsense,’ said the Princess; ‘and if I can kiss him, you can

too. Besides, remember that I give you board and lodging.’

So the ladies-in-waiting had to go down to him again.

‘A hundred kisses from the Princess,’ said he, ‘or each keeps his

own.’

‘Put yourselves in front of us,’ she said then; and so all the

ladies-in-waiting put themselves in front, and he began to kiss the

Princess.

‘What can that commotion be by the pigsties?’ asked the Emperor, who

was standing on the balcony. He rubbed his eyes and put on his

spectacles. ‘Why those are the ladies-in-waiting playing their games;

I must go down to them.’

So he took off his shoes, which were shoes though he had trodden them

down into slippers. What a hurry he was in, to be sure!

As soon as he came into the yard he walked very softly, and the

ladies-in-waiting were so busy counting the kisses and seeing fair

play that they never noticed the Emperor. He stood on tip-toe.

‘What is that?’ he said, when he saw the kissing; and then he threw

one of his slippers at their heads just as the Swineherd was taking

his eighty-sixth kiss.

‘Be off with you!’ said the Emperor, for he was very angry. And the

Princess and the Swineherd were driven out of the empire.

Then she stood still and wept; the Swineherd was scolding, and the

rain was streaming down.

‘Alas, what an unhappy creature I am!’ sobbed the Princess. ‘If only I

had taken the beautiful Prince! Alas, how unfortunate I am!’

And the Swineherd went behind a tree, washed the black and brown off

his face, threw away his old clothes, and then stepped forward in his

splendid dress, looking so beautiful that the Princess was obliged to

courtesy.

‘I now come to this. I despise you!’ he said. ‘You would have nothing

to do with a noble Prince; you did not understand the rose or the

nightingale, but you could kiss the