Two eyes, are you sleeping?”


Then two of the eyes which Three-eyes had, shut and fell asleep, but
the third, as it had not been named in the song, did not sleep. It is
true that Three-eyes shut it, but only in her cunning, to pretend it
was asleep too, but it blinked, and could see everything very well. And
when Two-eyes thought that Three-eyes was fast asleep, she used her
little charm,

“Bleat, my little goat, bleat,
Cover the table with something to eat,”


and ate and drank as much as her heart desired, and then ordered the
table to go away again,

“Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray,
And take the table quite away,”


and Three-eyes had seen everything. Then Two-eyes came to her, waked
her and said, “Have you been asleep, Three-eyes? You are a good
care-taker! Come, we will go home.” And when they got home, Two-eyes
again did not eat, and Three-eyes said to the mother, “Now, I know why
that high-minded thing there does not eat. When she is out, she says to
the goat,

“Bleat, my little goat, bleat,
Cover the table with something to eat,”


and then a little table appears before her covered with the best of
food, much better than any we have here, and when she has eaten all she
wants, she says,

“Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray,
And take the table quite away,”


and all disappears. I watched everything closely. She put two of my
eyes to sleep by using a certain form of words, but luckily the one in
my forehead kept awake.” Then the envious mother cried, “Dost thou want
to fare better than we do? The desire shall pass away,” and she fetched
a butcher’s knife, and thrust it into the heart of the goat, which fell
down dead. When Two-eyes saw that, she went out full of trouble, seated herself on
the ridge of grass at the edge of the field, and wept bitter tears. Suddenly the wise woman once more stood by her side, and said,
“Two-eyes, why art thou weeping?” “Have I not reason to weep?” she
answered. “The goat which covered the table for me every day when I
spoke your charm, has been killed by my mother, and now I shall again
have to bear hunger and want.” The wise woman said, “Two-eyes, I will
give thee a piece of good advice; ask thy sisters to give thee the
entrails of the slaughtered goat, and bury them in the ground in front
of the house, and thy fortune will be made.” Then she vanished, and
Two-eyes went home and said to her sisters, “Dear sisters, do give me
some part of my goat; I don’t wish for what is good, but give me the
entrails.” Then they laughed and said, “If that’s all you want, you can
have it.” So Two-eyes took the entrails and buried them quietly in the
evening, in front of the house-door, as the wise woman had counselled
her to do. Next morning, when they all awoke, and went to the house-door, there
stood a strangely magnificent tree with leaves of silver, and fruit of
gold hanging among them, so that in all the wide world there was
nothing more beautiful or precious. They did not know how the tree
could have come there during the night, but Two-eyes saw that it had
grown up out of the entrails of the goat, for it was standing on the
exact spot where she had buried them. Then the mother said to One-eye,
“Climb up, my child, and gather some of the fruit of the tree for us.”
One-eye climbed up, but when she was about to get hold of one of the
golden apples, the branch escaped from her hands, and that happened
each time, so that she could not pluck a single apple, let her do what
she might. Then said the mother, “Three-eyes, do you climb up; you with
your three eyes can look about you better than One-eye.” One-eye
slipped down, and Three-eyes climbed up. Three-eyes was not more
skilful, and might search as she liked, but the golden apples always
escaped her. At length the mother grew impatient, and climbed up
herself, but could get hold of the fruit no better than One-eye and
Three-eyes, for she always clutched empty air. Then said Two-eyes, “I
will just go up, perhaps I may succeed better.” The sisters cried, “You
indeed, with your two eyes, what can you do?” But Two-eyes climbed up,
and the golden apples did get out of her way, but came into her hand of
their own accord, so that she could pluck them one after the other, and
brought a whole apronful down with her. The mother took them away from
her, and instead of treating poor Two-eyes any better for this, she and
One-eye and Three-eyes were only envious, because Two-eyes alone had
been able to get the fruit, and they treated her still more cruelly. It so befell that once when they were all standing together by the
tree, a young knight came up. “Quick, Two-eyes,” cried the two sisters,
“creep under this, and don’t disgrace us!” and with all speed they
turned an empty barrel which was standing close by the tree over poor
Two-eyes, and they pushed the golden apples which she had been
gathering, under it too. When the knight came nearer he was a handsome
lord, who stopped and admired the magnificent gold and silver tree, and
said to the two sisters, “To whom does this fine tree belong? Any one
who would bestow one branch of it on me might in return for it ask
whatsoever he desired.” Then One-eye and Three-eyes replied that the
tree belonged to them, and that they would give him a branch. They both
took great trouble, but they were not able to do it, for the branches
and fruit both moved away from them every time. Then said the knight,
“It is very strange that the tree should belong to you, and that you
should still not be able to break a piece off.” They again asserted
that the tree was their property. Whilst they were saying so, Two-eyes
rolled out a couple of golden apples from under the barrel to the feet
of the knight, for she was vexed with One-eye and Three-eyes, for not
speaking the truth. When the knight saw the apples he was astonished,
and asked where they came from. One-eye and Three-eyes answered that
they had another sister, who was not allowed to show herself, for she
had only two eyes like any common person. The knight, however, desired
to see her, and cried, “Two-eyes, come forth.” Then Two-eyes, quite
comforted, came from beneath the barrel, and the knight was surprised
at her great beauty, and said, “Thou, Two-eyes, canst certainly break
off a branch from the tree for me.” “Yes,” replied Two-eyes, “that I
certainly shall be able to do, for the tree belongs to me.” And she
climbed up, and with the greatest ease broke off a branch with
beautiful silver leaves and golden fruit, and gave it to the knight.