The Red Fairy Book by Andrew Lang (interesting novels to read .txt) 📕

she was twelve years old the Witch shut her up in a tower, in the

middle of a great wood, and the tower had neither stairs nor doors,

only high up at the very top a small window. When the old Witch

wanted to get in she stood underneath and called out:

`Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your golden hair,’

for Rapunzel had wonderful long hair, and it was as fine as spun

gold. Whenever she heard the Witch’s voice she unloosed her

plaits, and let her hair fall down out of the window about twenty

yards below, and the old Witch climbed up by it.

After they had lived like this for a few years, it happened one

day that a Prince was riding through the wood and passed by the

tower. As he drew near it he heard someone singing so sweetly

that he stood still spell-bound, and listened. It was Rapunzel in

her loneliness trying to while away the time by letting her sweet voice

ring out into the wood. The Prince longed to see the owner of the

voice, but he sought in vain for a door in the tower. He rode home,

but he was so haunted by the song he had heard that he returned

every day to the wood and listened. One day, when he was standing

thus behind a tree, he saw the old Witch approach and heard

her call out:

`Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your golden hair.’

Then Rapunzel let down her plaits, and the Witch climbed up by them.

`So that’s the staircase, is it?’ said the Prince. `Then I too will

climb it and try my luck.’

So on the following day, at dusk, he went to the foot of the tower

and cried:

`Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your golden hair,’

and as soon as she had let it down the Prince climbed up.

At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man came in, for she had

never seen one before; but the Prince spoke to her so kindly, and told her

at once that his heart had been so touched by her singing, that he felt

he should know no peace of mind till he had seen her. Very soon Rapunzel

forgot her fear, and when he asked her to marry him she consented at once.

`For,’ she thought, `he is young and handsome, and I’ll certainly be happier

with him than with the old Witch.’ So she put her hand in his and said:

`Yes, I will gladly go with you, only how am I to get down out of the tower?

Every time you come to see me you must bring a skein of silk with you,

and I will make a ladder of them, and when it is finished I will climb down

by it, and you will take me away on your horse.’

They arranged that till the ladder was ready, he was to come to her

every evening, because the old woman was with her during the day.

The old Witch, of course, knew nothing of what was going on,

till one day Rapunzel, not thinking of what she was about,

turned to the Witch and said:

`How is it, good mother, that you are so much harder to pull

up than the young Prince? He is always with me in a moment.’

`Oh! you wicked child,’ cried the Witch. `What is this I hear? I

thought I had hidden you safely from the whole world, and in spite

of it you have managed to deceive me.’

In her wrath she seized Rapunzel’s beautiful hair, wound it

round and round her left hand, and then grasping a pair of scissors

in her right, snip snap, off it came, and the beautiful plaits lay on

the ground. And, worse than this, she was so hard-hearted that

she took Rapunzel to a lonely desert place, and there left her to

live in loneliness and misery.

But on the evening of the day in which she had driven poor

Rapunzel away, the Witch fastened the plaits on to a hook in the

window, and when the Prince came and called out:

`Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your golden hair,’

she let them down, and the Prince climbed up as usual, but instead

of his beloved Rapunzel he found the old Witch, who fixed her evil,

glittering eyes on him, and cried mockingly:

`Ah, ah! you thought to find your lady love, but the pretty bird

has flown and its song is dumb; the cat caught it, and will scratch

out your eyes too. Rapunzel is lost to you for ever—you will never

see her more.’

The Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he

jumped right down from the tower, and, though he escaped with his

life, the thorns among which he fell pierced his eyes out. Then he

wandered, blind and miserable, through the wood, eating nothing

but roots and berries, and weeping and lamenting the loss of his

lovely bride. So he wandered about for some years, as wretched

and unhappy as he could well be, and at last he came to the desert

place where Rapunzel was living. Of a sudden he heard a voice

which seemed strangely familiar to him. He walked eagerly in

the direction of the sound, and when he was quite close, Rapunzel

recognised him and fell on his neck and wept. But two of her

tears touched his eyes, and in a moment they became quite clear

again, and he saw as well as he had ever done. Then he led her to

his kingdom, where they were received and welcomed with great

joy, and they lived happily ever after.[23]

[23] Grimm.

ONCE upon a time there lived at Quesnoy, in Flanders, a great lord

whose name was Burchard, but whom the country people called

Burchard the Wolf. Now Burchard had such a wicked, cruel heart,

that it was whispered how he used to harness his peasants to the

plough, and force them by blows from his whip to till his land with

naked feet.

His wife, on the other hand, was always tender and pitiful to the

poor and miserable.

Every time that she heard of another misdeed of her husband’s

she secretly went to repair the evil, which caused her name to be

blessed throughout the whole country-side. This Countess was

adored as much as the Count was hated.

One day when he was out hunting the Count passed through a

forest, and at the door of a lonely cottage he saw a beautiful girl

spinning hemp.

`What is your name?’ he asked her.

`Renelde, my lord.’

`You must get tired of staying in such a lonely place?’

`I am accustomed to it, my lord, and I never get tired of it.’

`That may be so; but come to the castle, and I will make you

lady’s maid to the Countess.’

`I cannot do that, my lord. I have to look after my grandmother,

who is very helpless.’

`Come to the castle, I tell you. I shall expect you this evening,’

and he went on his way.

But Renelde, who was betrothed to a young wood-cutter called

Guilbert, had no intention of obeying the Count, and she had,

besides, to take care of her grandmother.

Three days later the Count again passed by.

`Why didn’t you come?’ he asked the pretty spinner.

`I told you, my lord, that I have to look after my grandmother.’

`Come to-morrow, and I will make you lady-in-waiting to the

Countess,’ and he went on his way.

This offer produced no more effect than the other, and Renelde

did not go to the castle.

`If you will only come,’ said the Count to her when next he

rode by, `I will send away the Countess, and will marry you.’

But two years before, when Renelde’s mother was dying of a

long illness, the Countess had not forgotten them, but had given

help when they sorely needed it. So even if the Count had really

wished to marry Renelde, she would always have refused.

Some weeks passed before Burchard appeared again.

Renelde hoped she had got rid of him, when one day he stopped

at the door, his duck-gun under his arm and his game-bag on his

shoulder. This time Renelde was spinning not hemp, but flax.

`What are you spinning?’ he asked in a rough voice.

`My wedding shift, my lord.’

`You are going to be married, then?’

`Yes, my lord, by your leave.’

For at that time no peasant could marry without the leave of

his master.

`I will give you leave on one condition. Do you see those tall

nettles that grow on the tombs in the churchyard? Go and gather

them, and spin them into two fine shifts. One shall be your bridal

shift, and the other shall be my shroud. For you shall be married

the day that I am laid in my grave.’ And the Count turned away

with a mocking laugh.

Renelde trembled. Never in all Locquignol had such a thing

been heard of as the spinning of nettles.

And besides, the Count seemed made of iron and was very

proud of his strength, often boasting that he should live to be a

hundred.

Every evening, when his work was done, Guilbert came to visit

his future bride. This evening he came as usual, and Renelde told

him what Burchard had said.

`Would you like me to watch for the Wolf, and split his skull

with a blow from my axe?’

`No,’ replied Renelde, `there must be no blood on my bridal

bouquet. And then we must not hurt the Count. Remember how

good the Countess was to my mother.’

An old, old woman now spoke: she was the mother of Renelde’s

grandmother, and was more than ninety years old. All day long

she sat in her chair nodding her head and never saying a word.

`My children,’ she said, `all the years that I have lived in the

world, I have never heard of a shift spun from nettles. But what

God commands, man can do. Why should not Renelde try it?’

Renelde did try, and to her great surprise the nettles when

crushed and prepared gave a good thread, soft and light and firm.

Very soon she had spun the first shift, which was for her own

wedding. She wove and cut it out at once, hoping that the Count

would not force her to begin the other. Just as she had finished

sewing it, Burchard the Wolf passed by.

`Well,’ said he, `how are the shifts getting on?’

`Here, my lord, is my wedding garment,’ answered Renelde,

showing him the shift, which was the finest and whitest ever seen.

The Count grew pale, but he replied roughly, `Very good.

Now begin the other.’

The spinner set to work. As the Count returned to the castle, a

cold shiver passed over him, and he felt, as the saying is, that some

one was walking over his grave. He tried to eat his supper, but

could not; he went to bed shaking with fever. But he did not sleep,

and in the morning could not manage to rise.

This sudden illness, which every instant became worse, made

him very uneasy. No doubt Renelde’s spinning-wheel knew all

about it. Was it not necessary that his body, as well as his shroud,

should be ready for the burial?

The first thing Burchard did was to send