a stone on
the ground might pity me; my clothes all torn, my body pricked and
scratched, my little all gone with my purse, good ducats, each piece
better than the last; for God’s sake let the man be thrown into
prison!”

“Was it a soldier,” said the judge, “who cut you thus with his sabre?”
“Nothing of the sort!” said the Jew; “it was no sword that he had, but
a gun hanging at his back, and a fiddle at his neck; the wretch may
easily be known.”

So the judge sent his people out after the man, and they found the good
servant, who had been going quite slowly along, and they found, too,
the purse with the money upon him. As soon as he was taken before the
judge he said, “I did not touch the Jew, nor take his money; he gave it
to me of his own free will, that I might leave off fiddling because he
could not bear my music.” “Heaven defend us!” cried the Jew, “his lies
are as thick as flies upon the wall.”

But the judge also did not believe his tale, and said, “This is a bad
defence, no Jew would do that.” And because he had committed robbery on
the public highway, he sentenced the good servant to be hanged. As he
was being led away the Jew again screamed after him, “You vagabond! you
dog of a fiddler! now you are going to receive your well-earned
reward!” The servant walked quietly with the hangman up the ladder, but
upon the last step he turned round and said to the judge, “Grant me
just one request before I die.”

“Yes, if you do not ask your life,” said the judge. “I do not ask for
life,” answered the servant, “but as a last favor let me play once more
upon my fiddle.” The Jew raised a great cry of “Murder! murder! for
goodness’ sake do not allow it! Do not allow it!” But the judge said,
“Why should I not let him have this short pleasure? it has been granted
to him, and he shall have it.” However, he could not have refused on
account of the gift which had been bestowed on the servant. Then the Jew cried, “Oh! woe’s me! tie me, tie me fast!” while the good
servant took his fiddle from his neck, and made ready. As he gave the
first scrape, they all began to quiver and shake, the judge, his clerk,
and the hangman and his men, and the cord fell out of the hand of the
one who was going to tie the Jew fast. At the second scrape all raised
their legs, and the hangman let go his hold of the good servant, and
made himself ready to dance. At the third scrape they all leaped up and
began to dance; the judge and the Jew being the best at jumping. Soon
all who had gathered in the market-place out of curiosity were dancing
with them; old and young, fat and lean, one with another. The dogs,
likewise, which had run there got up on their hind legs and capered
about; and the longer he played, the higher sprang the dancers, so that
they knocked against each other’s heads, and began to shriek terribly. At length the judge cried, quite out of breath, “I will give you your
life if you will only stop fiddling.” The good servant thereupon had
compassion, took his fiddle and hung it round his neck again, and
stepped down the ladder. Then he went up to the Jew, who was lying upon
the ground panting for breath, and said, “You rascal, now confess,
whence you got the money, or I will take my fiddle and begin to play
again.” “I stole it, I stole it!” cried he; “but you have honestly
earned it.” So the judge had the Jew taken to the gallows and hanged as
a thief. 111 The Skilful Huntsman

There was once a young fellow who had learnt the trade of locksmith,
and told his father he would now go out into the world and seek his
fortune. “Very well,” said the father, “I am quite content with that,”
and gave him some money for his journey. So he travelled about and
looked for work. After a time he resolved not to follow the trade of
locksmith any more, for he no longer liked it, but he took a fancy for
hunting. Then there met him in his rambles a huntsman dressed in green,
who asked whence he came and whither he was going? The youth said he
was a locksmith’s apprentice, but that the trade no longer pleased him,
and he had a liking for huntsmanship, would he teach it to him? “Oh,
yes,” said the huntsman, “if thou wilt go with me.” Then the young
fellow went with him, bound himself to him for some years, and learnt
the art of hunting. After this he wished to try his luck elsewhere, and
the huntsman gave him nothing in the way of payment but an air-gun,
which had, however, this property, that it hit its mark without fail
whenever he shot with it. Then he set out and found himself in a very
large forest, which he could not get to the end of in one day. When
evening came he seated himself in a high tree in order to escape from
the wild beasts. Towards midnight, it seemed to him as if a tiny little
light glimmered in the distance. Then he looked down through the
branches towards it, and kept well in his mind where it was. But in the
first place he took off his hat and threw it down in the direction of
the light, so that he might go to the hat as a mark when he had
descended. Then he got down and went to his hat, put it on again and
went straight forwards. The farther he went, the larger the light grew,
and when he got close to it he saw that it was an enormous fire, and
that three giants were sitting by it, who had an ox on the spit, and
were roasting it. Presently one of them said, “I must just taste if the
meat will soon be fit to eat,” and pulled a piece off, and was about to
put it in his mouth when the huntsman shot it out of his hand. “Well,
really,” said the giant, “if the wind has not blown the bit out of my
hand!” and helped himself to another. But when he was just about to
bite into it, the huntsman again shot it away from him. On this the
giant gave the one who was sitting next him a box on the ear, and cried
angrily, “Why art thou snatching my piece away from me?” “I have not
snatched it away,” said the other, “a sharpshooter must have shot it
away from thee.” The giant took another piece, but could not, however,
keep it in his hand, for the huntsman shot it out. Then the giant said,
“That must be a good shot to shoot the bit out of one’s very mouth,
such an one would be useful to us.” And he cried aloud, “Come here,
thou sharpshooter, seat thyself at the fire beside us and eat thy fill,
we will not hurt thee; but if thou wilt not come, and we have to bring
thee by force, thou art a lost man!” On this the youth went up to them
and told them he was a skilled huntsman, and that whatever he aimed at
with his gun, he was certain to hit. Then they said if he would go with
them he should be well treated, and they told him that outside the
forest there was a great lake, behind which stood a tower, and in the
tower was imprisoned a lovely princess, whom they wished very much to
carry off.