Two hundred deer and more came running
inside the circle at once, and the huntsmen shot them. Then they were
all placed on sixty country carts, and driven home to the King, and for
once he was able to deck his table with game, after having had none at
all for years. Now the King felt great joy at this, and commanded that his entire
household should eat with him next day, and made a great feast. When
they were all assembled together, he said to the huntsmen, “As thou art
so clever, thou shalt sit by me.” He replied, “Lord King, your majesty
must excuse me, I am a poor huntsman.” But the King insisted on it, and
said, “Thou shalt sit by me,” until he did it. Whilst he was sitting
there, he thought of his dearest mother, and wished that one of the
King’s principal servants would begin to speak of her, and would ask
how it was faring with the Queen in the tower, and if she were alive
still, or had perished. Hardly had he formed the wish than the marshal
began, and said, “Your majesty, we live joyously here, but how is the
Queen living in the tower? Is she still alive, or has she died?” But
the King replied, “She let my dear son be torn to pieces by wild
beasts; I will not have her named.” Then the huntsman arose and said,
“Gracious lord father, she is alive still, and I am her son, and I was
not carried away by wild beasts, but by that wretch the old cook, who
tore me from her arms when she was asleep, and sprinkled her apron with
the blood of a chicken.” Thereupon he took the dog with the golden
collar, and said, “That is the wretch!” and caused live coals to be
brought, and these the dog was compelled to devour before the sight of
all, until flames burst forth from its throat. On this the huntsman
asked the King if he would like to see the dog in his true shape, and
wished him back into the form of the cook, in the which he stood
immediately, with his white apron, and his knife by his side. When the
King saw him he fell into a passion, and ordered him to be cast into
the deepest dungeon. Then the huntsman spoke further and said, “Father,
will you see the maiden who brought me up so tenderly and who was
afterwards to murder me, but did not do it, though her own life
depended on it?” The King replied, “Yes, I would like to see her.” The
son said, “Most gracious father, I will show her to you in the form of
a beautiful flower,” and he thrust his hand into his pocket and brought
forth the pink, and placed it on the royal table, and it was so
beautiful that the King had never seen one to equal it. Then the son
said, “Now will I show her to you in her own form,” and wished that she
might become a maiden, and she stood there looking so beautiful that no
painter could have made her look more so. And the King sent two waiting-maids and two attendants into the tower,
to fetch the Queen and bring her to the royal table. But when she was
led in she ate nothing, and said, “The gracious and merciful God who
has supported me in the tower, will speedily deliver me.” She lived
three days more, and then died happily, and when she was buried, the
two white doves which had brought her food to the tower, and were
angels of heaven, followed her body and seated themselves on her grave. The aged King ordered the cook to be torn in four pieces, but grief
consumed the King’s own heart, and he soon died. His son married the
beautiful maiden whom he had brought with him as a flower in his
pocket, and whether they are still alive or not, is known to God. 77 Clever Grethel

There was once a cook named Grethel, who wore shoes with red rosettes,
and when she walked out with them on, she turned herself this way and
that, and thought, “You certainly are a pretty girl!” And when she came
home she drank, in her gladness of heart, a draught of wine, and as
wine excites a desire to eat, she tasted the best of whatever she was
cooking until she was satisfied, and said, “The cook must know what the
food is like.”

It came to pass that the master one day said to her, “Grethel, there is
a guest coming this evening; prepare me two fowls very daintily.” “I
will see to it, master,” answered Grethel. She killed two fowls,
scalded them, plucked them, put them on the spit, and towards evening
set them before the fire, that they might roast. The fowls began to
turn brown, and were nearly ready, but the guest had not yet arrived. Then Grethel called out to her master, “If the guest does not come, I
must take the fowls away from the fire, but it will be a sin and a
shame if they are not eaten directly, when they are juiciest.” The
master said, “I will run myself, and fetch the guest.” When the master
had turned his back, Grethel laid the spit with the fowls on one side,
and thought, “Standing so long by the fire there, makes one hot and
thirsty; who knows when they will come? Meanwhile, I will run into the
cellar, and take a drink.” She ran down, set a jug, said, “God bless it
to thy use, Grethel,” and took a good drink, and took yet another
hearty draught. Then she went and put the fowls down again to the fire, basted them,
and drove the spit merrily round. But as the roast meat smelt so good,
Grethel thought, “Something might be wrong, it ought to be tasted!” She
touched it with her finger, and said, “Ah! how good fowls are! It
certainly is a sin and a shame that they are not eaten directly!” She
ran to the window, to see if the master was not coming with his guest,
but she saw no one, and went back to the fowls and thought, “One of the
wings is burning! I had better take it off and eat it.” So she cut it
off, ate it, and enjoyed it, and when she had done, she thought, “the
other must go down too, or else master will observe that something is
missing.” When the two wings were eaten, she went and looked for her
master, and did not see him. It suddenly occurred to her, “Who knows? They are perhaps not coming at all, and have turned in somewhere.” Then
she said, “Hallo, Grethel, enjoy yourself, one fowl has been cut into,
take another drink, and eat it up entirely; when it is eaten you will
have some peace, why should God’s good gifts be spoilt?” So she ran
into the cellar again, took an enormous drink and ate up the one
chicken in great glee. When one of the chickens was swallowed down, and
still her master did not come, Grethel looked at the other and said,
“Where one is, the other should be likewise, the two go together;
what’s right for the one is right for the other; I think if I were to
take another draught it would do me no harm.” So she took another
hearty drink, and let the second chicken rejoin the first. While she was just in the best of the eating, her master came and
cried, hurry up, “Haste thee, Grethel, the guest is coming directly
after me!” “Yes, sir, I will soon serve up,” answered Grethel. Meantime
the master looked to see that the table was properly laid, and took the
great knife, wherewith he was going to carve the chickens, and
sharpened it on the steps.