When the peasants came together, they began to dispute, to beat each
other and make a disturbance, and the peasant with the oxen wanted to
keep the foal, and said one of the oxen had given birth to it, and the
other said his horse had had it, and that it was his. The quarrel came
before the King, and he give the verdict that the foal should stay
where it had been found, and so the peasant with the oxen, to whom it
did not belong, got it. Then the other went away, and wept and lamented
over his foal. Now he had heard how gracious his lady the Queen was
because she herself had sprung from poor peasant folks, so he went to
her and begged her to see if she could not help him to get his foal
back again. Said she, “Yes, I will tell you what to do, if thou wilt
promise me not to betray me. Early to-morrow morning, when the King
parades the guard, place thyself there in the middle of the road by
which he must pass, take a great fishing-net and pretend to be fishing;
go on fishing, too, and empty out the net as if thou hadst got it full”
and then she told him also what he was to say if he was questioned by
the King. The next day, therefore, the peasant stood there, and fished
on dry ground. When the King passed by, and saw that, he sent his
messenger to ask what the stupid man was about? He answered, “I am
fishing.” The messenger asked how he could fish when there was no water
there? The peasant said, “It is as easy for me to fish on dry land as
it is for an ox to have a foal.” The messenger went back and took the
answer to the King, who ordered the peasant to be brought to him and
told him that this was not his own idea, and he wanted to know whose it
was? The peasant must confess this at once. The peasant, however, would
not do so, and said always, God forbid he should! the idea was his own. They laid him, however, on a heap of straw, and beat him and tormented
him so long that at last he admitted that he had got the idea from the
Queen. When the King reached home again, he said to his wife, “Why hast thou
behaved so falsely to me? I will not have thee any longer for a wife;
thy time is up, go back to the place from whence thou camest to thy
peasant’s hut.” One favour, however, he granted her; she might take
with her the one thing that was dearest and best in her eyes; and thus
was she dismissed. She said, “Yes, my dear husband, if you command
this, I will do it,” and she embraced him and kissed him, and said she
would take leave of him. Then she ordered a powerful sleeping draught
to be brought, to drink farewell to him; the King took a long draught,
but she took only a little. He soon fell into a deep sleep, and when
she perceived that, she called a servant and took a fair white linen
cloth and wrapped the King in it, and the servant was forced to carry
him into a carriage that stood before the door, and she drove with him
to her own little house. She laid him in her own little bed, and he
slept one day and one night without awakening, and when he awoke he
looked round and said, “Good God! where am I?” He called his
attendants, but none of them were there. At length his wife came to his
bedside and said, “My dear lord and King, you told me I might bring
away with me from the palace that which was dearest and most precious
in my eyes I have nothing more precious and dear than yourself, so I
have brought you with me.” Tears rose to the King’s eyes and he said,
“Dear wife, thou shalt be mine and I will be thine,” and he took her
back with him to the royal palace and was married again to her, and at
the present time they are very likely still living. 95 Old Hildebrand

Once upon a time lived a peasant and his wife, and the parson of the
village had a fancy for the wife, and had wished for a long while to
spend a whole day happily with her. The peasant woman, too, was quite
willing. One day, therefore, he said to the woman, “Listen, my dear
friend, I have now thought of a way by which we can for once spend a
whole day happily together. I’ll tell you what; on Wednesday, you must
take to your bed, and tell your husband you are ill, and if you only
complain and act being ill properly, and go on doing so until Sunday
when I have to preach, I will then say in my sermon that whosoever has
at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father, a
sick mother, a sick brother or whosoever else it may be, and makes a
pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where you can get a peck of
laurel-leaves for a kreuzer, the sick child, the sick husband, the sick
wife, the sick father, or sick mother, the sick sister, or whosoever
else it may be, will be restored to health immediately.”

“I will manage it,” said the woman promptly. Now therefore on the
Wednesday, the peasant woman took to her bed, and complained and
lamented as agreed on, and her husband did everything for her that he
could think of, but nothing did her any good, and when Sunday came the
woman said, “I feel as ill as if I were going to die at once, but there
is one thing I should like to do before my end I should like to hear
the parson’s sermon that he is going to preach to-day.” On that the
peasant said, “Ah, my child, do not do it—thou mightest make thyself
worse if thou wert to get up. Look, I will go to the sermon, and will
attend to it very carefully, and will tell thee everything the parson
says.”

“Well,” said the woman, “go, then, and pay great attention, and repeat
to me all that thou hearest.” So the peasant went to the sermon, and
the parson began to preach and said, if any one had at home a sick
child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick father a sick mother, a sick
sister, brother or any one else, and would make a pilgrimage to the
Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer,
the sick child, sick husband, sick wife, sick father, sick mother, sick
sister, brother, or whosoever else it might be, would be restored to
health instantly, and whosoever wished to undertake the journey was to
go to him after the service was over, and he would give him the sack
for the laurel-leaves and the kreuzer. Then no one was more rejoiced than the peasant, and after the service
was over, he went at once to the parson, who gave him the bag for the
laurel-leaves and the kreuzer. After that he went home, and even at the
house door he cried, “Hurrah! dear wife, it is now almost the same
thing as if thou wert well! The parson has preached to-day that
whosoever had at home a sick child, a sick husband, a sick wife, a sick
father, a sick mother, a sick sister, brother or whoever it might be,
and would make a pilgrimage to the Göckerli hill in Italy, where a peck
of laurel-leaves costs a kreuzer, the sick child, sick husband, sick
wife, sick father, sick mother, sick sister, brother, or whosoever else
it was, would be cured immediately, and now I have already got the bag
and the kreuzer from the parson, and will at once begin my journey so
that thou mayst get well the faster,” and thereupon he went away.