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The Wild Swans
The Wild Swans
[See On The Way To Death: Even on the way to death she did not interrupt the
work.]
Far away, where the swallows fly when our winter comes on, lived a King
who had eleven sons, and one daughter named Eliza. The eleven brothers were
Princes, and each went to school with a star on his breast and his sword by
his side. They wrote with pencils of diamond upon slates of gold, and learned
by heart just as well as they read; one could see directly that they were
Princes. Their sister Eliza sat upon a little stool of plate-glass, and had
a picture-book which had been bought for the value of half a kingdom.
O, the children were particularly well off; but it was not always to
remain so.
Their father, who was king of the whole country, married a bad Queen who
did not love the poor children at all. On the very first day they could notice
this. In the whole palace there was great feasting, and the children were
playing there. Then guests came; but instead of the children receiving, as
they had been accustomed to do, all the spare cake and all the roasted apples,
they only had some sand given them in a tea-cup, and were told that they
might make believe that was something good.
The next week the Queen took the little sister Eliza into the country, to
a peasant and his wife; and but a short time had elapsed before she told the
King so many falsehoods about the poor Princes, that he did not trouble
himself any more about them.
"Fly out into the world and get your own living," said the wicked Queen.
"Fly like great birds without a voice."
But she could not make it so bad for them as she had intended, for they
became eleven magnificent wild swans. With a strange cry they flew out of the
palace windows, far over the park and into the wood.
It was yet quite early morning when they came by the place where their
sister Eliza lay asleep in the peasant`s room. Here they hovered over the
roof, turned their long necks, and flapped their wings; but no one heard or
saw it. They were obliged to fly on, high up toward the clouds, far away into
the wide world; there they flew into a great dark wood, which stretched away
to the sea-shore.
Poor little Eliza stood in the peasant`s room and played with a green
leaf, for she had no other playthings. And she pricked a hole in the leaf, and
looked through it up at the sun, and it seemed to her that she saw her
brothers` clear eyes; each time the warm sun shone upon her cheeks she thought
of all the kisses they had given her.
Each day passed just like the rest. When the wind swept through the great
rose-hedges outside the house, it seemed to whisper to them, "What can be
more beautiful than you?" But the roses shook their heads, and answered,
"Eliza!" And when the old woman sat in front of her door on Sunday and read in
her hymn-book, the wind turned the leaves and said to the book, "Who can be
more pious than you?" and the hymn-book said, "Eliza!" And what the rose -
bushes and the hymn-book said was the simple truth.
When she was fifteen years old, she was to go home. And when the Queen
saw how beautiful she was, she became spiteful, and filled with hatred toward
her. She would have been glad to change her into a wild swan, like her
brothers, but she did not dare to do so at once, because the King wished to
see his daughter.
Early in the morning the Queen went into the bath, which was built of
white marble, and decked with soft cushions and the most splendid tapestry;
and she took three toads and kissed them, and said to the first, -
"Sit upon Eliza`s head when she comes into the bath, that she may become
as stupid as you. Seat yourself upon her forehead," she said to the second,
"that she may become as ugly as you, and her father may not know her. Rest on
her heart," she whispered to the third, "that she may receive an evil mind and
suffer pain from it."
Then she put the toads into the clear water, which at once assumed a
green color; and calling Eliza, caused her to undress and step into the water.
And while Eliza dived, one of the toads sat upon her hair, and the second on
her forehead, and the third on her heart; but she did not seem to notice it;
and as soon as she rose, three red poppies were floating on the water. If the
creatures had not been poisonous, and if the witch had not kissed them, they
would have been changed into red roses. But at any rate they became flowers,
because they had rested on the girl`s head, and forehead, and heart. She was
too good and innocent for sorcery to have power over her.
When the wicked Queen saw that, she rubbed Eliza with walnut juice, so
that the girl became dark brown, and smeared a hurtful ointment on her face,
and let her beautiful hair hang in confusion. It was quite impossible to
recognize the pretty Eliza.
When her father saw her he was much shocked, and declared this was not
his daughter. No one but the yard dog and the swallows would recognize her;
but they were poor animals who had nothing to say in the matter.
Then poor Eliza wept, and thought of her eleven brothers who were all
away. Sorrowfully she crept out of the castle, and walked all day over field
and moor till she came into the great wood. She did not know whither she
wished to go, only she felt very downcast, and longed for her brothers: they
had certainly been, like herself, thrust forth into the world, and she would
seek for them and find them.
She had been only a short time in the wood when the night fell; she quite
lost the path, therefore she lay down upon the soft moss, prayed her evening
prayer, and leaned her head against the stump of a tree. Deep silence reigned
around, the air was mild, and in the grass and in the moss gleamed like a
green fire hundreds of glow-worms; when she lightly touched one of the twigs
with her hand, the shining insects fell down upon her like shooting stars.
The whole night long she dreamed of her brothers. They were children
again playing together, writing with their diamond pencils upon their golden
slates, and looking at the beautiful picture-book which had cost half a
kingdom. But on the slates they were not writing, as they had been accustomed
to do, lines and letters, but the brave deeds they had done, and all they had
seen and experienced; and in the picture-book everything was alive - the
birds sang, and the people went out of the book and spoke with Eliza and her
brothers. But when the leaf was turned, they jumped back again directly, so
that there should be no confusion.
When she awoke the sun was already standing high. She could certainly not
see it, for the lofty trees spread their branches far and wide above her. But
the rays played there above like a gauzy veil, there was a fragrance from the
fresh verdure, and the birds almost perched upon her shoulders. She heard the
plashing of water: it was from a number of springs all flowing into a lake
which had the most delightful sandy bottom. It was surrounded by thick growing
bushes, but at one part the stags had made a large opening, and here Eliza
went down to the water. The lake was so clear, that if the wind had not
stirred the branches and the bushes, so that they moved, one would have
thought they were painted upon the depths of the lake, so clearly was every
leaf mirrored, whether the sun shone upon it or whether it lay in shadow.
When Eliza saw her own face she was terrified - so brown and ugly was
she; but when she wetted her little hand and rubbed her eyes and her forehead,
the white skin gleamed forth again. Then she undressed and went down into the
fresh water: a more beautiful king`s daughter than she was could not be found
in the world. And when she had dressed herself again and plaited her long
hair, she went to the bubbling spring, drank out of the hollow of her hand,
and then wandered into the wood, not knowing whither she went. She thought of
her dear brothers, and knew that Heaven would certainly not forsake her. It is
God who lets the wild apples grow, to satisfy the hungry. He showed her a wild
apple-tree, with the boughs bending under the weight of the fruit. Here she
took her midday meal, placing props under the boughs, and then went into the
darkest part of the forest. There it was so still that she could hear her own
footsteps, as well as the rustling of every dry leaf which bent under her
feet. Not one bird was to be seen, not one ray of sunlight could find its way
through the great dark boughs of the trees; the lofty trunks stood so close
together that when she looked before her it appeared as though she were
surrounded by sets of palings one behind the other. O, here was solitude such
as she had never before known!
The night came on quite dark. Not a single glow-worm now gleamed in the
grass. Sorrowfully she lay down to sleep. Then it seemed to her as if the
branches of the trees parted above her head, and mild eyes of angels looked
down upon her from on high.
When the morning came, she did not know if it had really been so or if
she had dreamed it.
She went a few steps forward, and then she met an old woman with berries
in her basket, and the old woman gave her a few of them. Eliza asked the dame
if she had not seen eleven Princes riding through the wood.
"No," replied the old woman, "but yesterday I saw eleven swans swimming
in the river close by, with golden crowns on their heads."
And she led Eliza a short distance farther, to a declivity, and at the
foot of the slope a little river wound its way. The trees on its margin
stretched their long leafy branches across toward each other, and where their
natural growth would not allow them to come together the roots had been torn
out of the ground, and hung, intermingled with the branches, over the water.
Eliza said farewell to the old woman, and went beside the river to the
place where the stream flowed out to the great open ocean.
The whole glorious sea lay before the young girl`s eyes, but not one sail
appeared upon its surface, and not a boat was to be seen. How was she to
proceed? She looked at the innumerable little pebbles on the shore; the water
had worn them all around. Glass, iron-stones, everything that was there, had
received its shape from the water, which was much softer than even her
delicate hand.
"It rolls on unweariedly, and thus what is hard becomes smooth. I will be
just as unwearied. Thanks for your lesson, you clear rolling waves; my heart
tells me that one day you will lead me to my dear brothers."
On the foam-covered sea-grass lay eleven white swan feathers, which
she collected into a bunch. Drops of water were upon them - whether they were
dew-drops or tears nobody could tell. Solitary it was there on the strand,
but she did not feel it, for the sea showed continual changes - more in a few
hours than the lovely lakes can produce in a whole year. Then a great black
cloud came. It seemed as if the sea would say, "I can look angry too;" and
then the wind blew and the waves turned their white side outward. But when the
clouds gleamed red and the winds slept, the sea looked like a rose leaf;
sometimes it became green, sometimes white. But however quietly it might rest,
there was still a slight motion on the shore; the water rose gently like the
breast of a sleeping child.
When the sun was just about to set, Eliza saw eleven wild swans, with
crowns on their heads, flying toward the land: they swept along one after the
other, so that they looked like a long white band. Then Eliza descended the
slope and hid herself behind a bush. The swans alighted near her and flapped
their great white wings.
As soon as the sun had disappeared beneath the water, the swans` feathers
fell off, and eleven handsome Princes, Eliza`s brothers, stood there. She
uttered a loud cry, for although they were greatly altered, she knew and felt
that it must be they. And she sprang into their arms and called them by their
names; and the Princes felt supremely happy when they saw their little sister
again; and they knew her, though she was now tall and beautiful. They smiled
and wept; and soon they understood how cruel their step-mother had been to
them all.
"We brothers," said the eldest, "fly about as wild swans as long as the
sun is in the sky, but directly it sinks down we receive our human form again.
Therefore we must always take care that we have a resting-place for our feet
when the sun sets, for if at that moment we were flying up toward the clouds,
we should sink down into the deep as men. We do not dwell here; there lies a
land just as fair as this beyond the sea. But the way thither is long; we must
cross the great sea, and on our path there is no island where we could pass
the night, only a little rock stands forth in the midst of the waves; it is
but just large enough for us to rest upon it close to each other. If the sea
is rough, the foam spurts far over us, but we thank God for the rock. There we
pass the night in our human form; but for this rock we could never visit our
beloved native land, for we require two of the longest days in the year for
our journey. Only once in each year is it granted to us to visit our home. For
eleven days we may stay here and fly over the great wood, from whence we can
see the palace in which we were born, and in which our father lives, and the
high church tower, beneath whose shade our mother lies buried. Here it seems
to us as though the bushes and trees were our relatives; here the wild horses
career across the steppe, as we have seen them do in our childhood; here the
charcoal-burner sings the old songs to which we danced as children; here is
our father-land; hither we feel ourselves drawn, and here we have found you,
our dear little sister. Two days more we may stay here; then we must away
across the sea to a glorious land, but which is not our native land. How can
we bear you away? for we have neither ship nor boat."
"In what way can I release you?" asked the sister; and they conversed
nearly the whole night, only slumbering for a few hours.
She was awakened by the rustling of the swans` wings above her head. Her
brothers were again enchanted, and they flew in wide circles and at last far
away; but one of them, the youngest, remained behind, and the swan laid his
head in her lap, and she stroked his wings; and the whole day they remained
together. Towards evening the others came back, and, when the sun had gone
down, they stood there in their own shapes.
"To-morrow we fly away from here, and cannot come back until a whole
year has gone by. But we cannot leave you thus! Have you courage to come with
us? My arm is strong enough to carry you in the wood; and should not all our
wings be strong enough to fly with you over the sea?"
"Yes, take me with you," said Eliza.
The whole night they were occupied in weaving a net of the pliable willow
bark and tough reeds; and it was great and strong. On this net Eliza lay down;
and when the sun rose, and her brothers were changed into wild swans, they
seized the net with their beaks, and flew with their beloved sister, who was
still asleep, high up towards the clouds. The sunbeams fell exactly upon her
face, so one of the swans flew over her head, that his broad wings might over
- shadow her.
They were far away from the shore when Eliza awoke: she was still
dreaming, so strange did it appear to her to be carried high through the air
and over the sea. By her side lay a branch with beautiful ripe berries, and a
bundle of sweet-tasting roots. The youngest of the brothers had collected
them and placed them there for her. She smiled at him thankfully, for she
recognized him; he it was who flew over her and shaded her with his wings.
They were so high that the greatest ship they descried beneath them
seemed like a white sea-gull lying upon the waters. A great cloud stood
behind them - it was a perfect mountain; and upon it Eliza saw her own shadow
and those of the eleven swans; there they flew on, gigantic in size. Here was
a picture, a more splendid one than she had ever yet seen. But as the sun rose
higher and the cloud was left farther behind them, the floating, shadowy
images vanished away.
The whole day they flew onward through the air, like a whirring arrow,
but their flight was slower than it was wont to be, for they had their sister
to carry. Bad weather came on; the evening drew near; Eliza looked anxiously
at the setting sun, for the lonely rock in the ocean could not be seen. It
seemed to her as if the swans beat the air more strongly with their wings.
Alas! she was the cause that they did not advance fast enough. When the sun
went down, they must become men and fall into the sea and drown. Then she
prayed a prayer from the depths of her heart; but still she could descry no
rock. The dark clouds came nearer in a great, black, threatening body, rolling
forward like a mass of lead, and the lightning burst forth, flash upon flash.
Now the sun just touched the margin of the sea. Eliza`s heart trembled.
Then the swans darted downward so swiftly that she thought they were falling,
but they paused again. The sun was half hidden below the water. And now for
the first time she saw the little rock beneath her, and it looked no larger
than a seal might look, thrusting his head forth from the water. The sun sank
very fast; at last it appeared only like a star; and then her foot touched the
firm land. The sun was extinguished like the last spark in a piece of burned
paper; her brothers were standing around her, arm in arm, but there was not
more than just enough room for her and for them. The sea beat against the rock
and went over her like small rain; the sky glowed in continual fire, and peal
on peal the thunder rolled; but sister and brothers held each other by the
hand and sang psalms, from which they gained comfort and courage.
In the morning twilight the air was pure and calm. As soon as the sun
rose the swans flew away with Eliza from the island. The sea still ran high,
and when they soared up aloft the white foam looked like millions of white
swans swimming upon the water.
When the sun mounted higher, Eliza saw before her, half floating in the
air, a mountainous country with shining masses of ice on its water, and in the
midst of it rose a castle, apparently a mile long, with row above row of
elegant columns, while beneath waved the palm woods and bright flowers as
large as mill-wheels. She asked if this was the country to which they were
bound, but the swans shook their heads, for what she beheld was the gorgeous,
ever-changing palace of Fata Morgana, and into this they might bring no
human being. As Eliza gazed at it, mountains, woods, and castle fell down, and
twenty proud churches, all nearly alike, with high towers and pointed windows,
stood before them. She fancied she heard the organs sounding, but it was the
sea she heard. When she was quite near the churches they changed to a fleet
sailing beneath her, but when she looked down it was only a sea-mist gliding
over the ocean. Thus she had a continual change before her eyes, till at last
she saw the real land to which they were bound. There arose the most glorious
blue mountains, with cedar forests, cities, and palaces. Long before the sun
went down she sat on the rock, in front of a great cave overgrown with
delicate green trailing plants looking like embroidered carpets.
"Now we shall see what you will dream of here - to-night," said the
youngest brother; and he showed her to her bed-chamber.
"Heaven grant that I may dream of a way to release you," she replied.
And this thought possessed her mightily, and she prayed ardently for
help; yes, even in her sleep she continued to pray. Then it seemed to her as
if she were flying high in the air to the cloudy palace of Fata Morgana; and
the fairy came out to meet her, beautiful and radiant; and yet the fairy was
quite like the old woman who had given her the berries in the wood, and had
told her of the swans with golden crowns on their heads.
"Your brothers can be released," said she. "But have you courage and
perseverance? Certainly, water is softer than your delicate hands, and yet it
changes the shape of stones; but it feels not the pain that your finger will
feel; it has no heart, and cannot suffer the agony and torment you will have
to endure. Do you see the stinging-nettle which I hold in my hand? Many of
the same kind grow around the cave in which you sleep: those only, and those
that grow upon church-yard graves, are serviceable, - remember that. Those
you must pluck, though they will burn your hands into blisters. Break these
nettles to pieces with your feet, and you will have flax; of this you must
plait and weave eleven shirts of mail with long sleeves: throw these over the
eleven swans, and the charm will be broken. But recollect well, from the
moment you begin this work until it is finished, even though it should take
years to accomplish, you must not speak. The first word you utter will pierce
your brothers` hearts like a deadly dagger. Their lives hang on your tongue.
Remember all this!"
And she touched her hand with the nettle; it was like a burning fire, and
Eliza woke with the smart. It was broad daylight; and close by the spot where
she had slept lay a nettle like the one she had seen in her dream. She fell
upon her knees and prayed gratefully, and went forth from the cave to begin
her work.
With her delicate hands she groped among the ugly nettles. These stung
like fire, burning great blisters on her arms and hands; but she thought she
would bear it gladly if she could only release her dear brothers. Then she
bruised every nettle with her bare feet and plaited the green flax.
When the sun had set her brothers came, and they were frightened when
they found her dumb. They thought it was some new sorcery of their wicked
stepmother`s; but when they saw her hands, they understood what she was doing
for their sake, and the youngest brother wept. And where his tears dropped she
felt no more pains, and the burning blisters vanished.
She passed the night at her work, for she could not sleep till she had
delivered her dear brothers. The whole of the following day, while the swans
were away, she sat in solitude, but never had time flown so quickly with her
as now. One shirt of mail was already finished, and now she began the second.
Then a hunting-horn sounded among the hills, and she was struck with
fear. The noise came nearer and nearer; she heard the barking dogs, and
timidly she fled into the cave, bound into a bundle the nettles she had
collected and prepared, and sat upon the bundle.
Immediately a great dog came bounding out of the ravine, and then
another, and another; they barked loudly, ran back, and then came again. Only
a few minutes had passed before all the huntsmen stood before the cave, and
the handsomest of them was the King of the country. He came forward to Eliza,
for he had never seen a more beautiful maiden.
"How did you come hither, you delightful child?" he asked.
Eliza shook her head, for she might not speak - it would cost her
brothers their deliverance and their lives. And she hid her hands under her
apron, so that the King might not see what she was suffering.
"Come with me," said he. "You cannot stop here. If you are as good as you
are beautiful, I will dress you in velvet and silk, and place the golden crown
on your head, and you shall dwell in my richest castle, and rule."
And then he lifted her on his horse. She wept and wrung her hands; but
the King said: -
"I only wish for your happiness; one day you will thank me for this."
And then he galloped away among the mountains with her on his horse, and
the hunters galloped at their heels.
When the sun went down, the fair, regal city lay before them, with its
churches and cupolas; and the King led her into the castle, where great
fountains plashed in the lofty marble halls, and where walls and ceilings were
covered with glorious pictures. But she had no eyes for all this - she only
wept and mourned. Passively she let the woman put royal robes upon her, and
weave pearls in her hair, and draw dainty gloves over her blistered fingers.
When she stood there in full array, she was dazzlingly beautiful, so that
the court bowed deeper than ever. And the King chose her for his bride,
although the Archbishop shook his head and whispered that the beauteous, fresh
maid was certainly a witch, who blinded the eyes and led astray the heart of
the King.
But the King gave no ear to this, but ordered that the music should
sound, and the costliest dishes should be served, and the most beauteous
maidens should dance before them. And she was led through fragrant gardens
into gorgeous halls; but never a smile came upon her lips or shone in her
eyes: there she stood, a picture of grief. Then the King opened a little
chamber close by, where she was to sleep. This chamber was decked with
splendid green tapestry, and completely resembled the cave in which she had
been. On the floor lay the bundle of flax which she had prepared from the
nettles, and under the ceiling hung the shirt of mail she had completed. All
these things one of the huntsmen had brought with him as curiosities.
"Here you may dream yourself back in your former home," said the King.
"Here is the work which occupied you there, and now, in the midst of all your
splendor, it will amuse you to think of that time."
When Eliza saw this that lay so near her heart, a smile played round her
mouth and the crimson blood came back into her cheeks. She thought of her
brothers` deliverance, and kissed the King`s hand; and he pressed her to his
heart, and caused the marriage feast to be announced by all the church bells.
The beautiful dumb girl out of the wood was to become the Queen of the
country.
Then the Archbishop whispered evil words into the King`s ear, but they
did not sink into the King`s heart. The marriage would take place; the
Archbishop himself was obliged to place the crown on her head, and with wicked
spite he pressed the narrow circlet so tightly upon her brow that it pained
her. But a heavier ring lay close around her heart-sorrow for her brothers;
she did not feel the bodily pain. Her mouth was dumb, for a single word would
cost her brothers their lives, but her eyes glowed with love for the kind,
handsome King, who did everything to rejoice her. She loved him with her whole
heart, more and more every day. O that she had been able to confide in him and
to tell him of her grief! But she was compelled to be dumb, and to finish her
work in silence. Therefore at night she crept away from his side, and went
quietly into the little chamber which was decorated like the cave, and wove
one shirt of mail after another. When she began the seventh she had no flax
left.
She knew that in the church-yard nettles were growing that she could
use; but she must pick them herself, and how was she to go out there?
"O, what is the pain in my fingers to the torment my heart endures?"
thought she. "I must venture it, and help will not be denied me!"
With a trembling heart, as though the deed she purposed doing had been
evil, she crept into the garden in the moonlight night, and went through the
lanes and through the deserted streets to the church-yard. There, on one of
the broadest tombstones, she saw sitting a circle of lamias. These hideous
wretches took off their ragged garments, as if they were going to bathe; then
with their skinny fingers they clawed open the fresh graves, and with fiendish
greed they snatched up the corpses and ate the flesh. Eliza was obliged to
pass close by them, and they fastened their evil glances upon her; but she
prayed silently, and collected the burning nettles, and carried them into the
castle.
Only one person had seen her, and that was the Archbishop. He was awake
while others slept. Now he felt sure his opinion was correct, that all was not
as it should be with the Queen; she was a witch, and thus she had bewitched
the King and the whole people.
In secret he told the King what he had seen and what he feared; and when
the hard words came from this tongue, the pictures of saints in the cathedral
shook their heads, as though they could have said, "It is not so! Eliza is
innocent!" But the Archbishop interpreted this differently - he thought they
were bearing witness against her, and shaking their heads at her sinfulness.
Then two heavy tears rolled down the King`s cheeks; he went home with doubt in
his heart, and at night pretended to be asleep; but no quiet sleep came upon
his eyes, for her noticed Eliza got up. Every night she did this, and each
time he followed her silently, and saw how she disappeared from her chamber.
From day to day his face became darker. Eliza saw it, but did not
understand the reason; but if frightened her - and what did she not suffer in
her heart of her brothers? Her hot tears flowed upon the royal velvet and
purple; they lay there like sparkling diamonds, and all who saw the splendor
wished they were queens. In the mean time she had almost finished her work.
Only one shirt of mail was still to be completed, but she had no flax left,
and not a single nettle. Once more, for the last time, therefore, she must go
to the church-yard, only to pluck a few handfuls. She thought with terror of
this solitary wandering and of the horrible lamias, but her will was firm as
her trust in Providence.
Eliza went on, but the King and the Archbishop followed her. They saw her
vanish into the church-yard through the wicket-gate; and when they drew
near, the lamias were sitting upon the tombstone as Eliza had seen them; and
the King turned aside, for he fancied her among them, whose head had rested
against his breast that very evening.
"The people must condemn her," said he.
And the people condemned her to suffer death by fire.
Out of the gorgeous regal halls she was led into a dark, damp cell, where
the wind whistled through the grated window; instead of velvet and silk they
gave her the bundle of nettles which she had collected; on this she could lay
her head; and the hard, burning coats of mail which she had woven were to be
her coverlet. But nothing could have been given her that she liked better. She
resumed her work and prayed. Without, the street boys were singing jeering
songs about her, and not a soul comforted her with a kind word.
But toward evening there came the whirring of a swan`s wings close by the
grating - it was the youngest of her brothers. He had found his sister, and
she sobbed aloud with joy, though she knew that the approaching night would
probably be the last she had to live. But now the work was almost finished,
and her brothers were here.
Now came the Archbishop, to stay with her in her last hour, for he had
promised the King to do so. And she shook her head, and with looks and
gestures she begged him to depart, for in this night she must finish her work,
or else all would be in vain, all her tears, her pain, and her sleepless
nights. The Archbishop withdrew, uttering evil words against her; but poor
Eliza knew she was innocent, and continued her work.
It was still twilight; not till an hour afterward would the sun rise. And
the eleven brothers stood at the castle gate, and demanded to be brought
before the King. That could not be, they were told, for it was still almost
night; the King was asleep, and might not be disturbed. They begged, they
threatened, and the sentries came, yes, even the King himself came out, and
asked what was the meaning of this. At that moment the sun rose, and no more
were the brothers to be seen, but eleven wild swans flew away over the castle.
All the people came flocking out at the town gate, for they wanted to see
the witch burned. An old horse drew the cart on which she sat. They had put
upon her a garment of coarse sackcloth. Her lovely hair hung loose about her
beautiful head; her cheeks were as pale as death; and her lips moved silently,
while her fingers were engaged with the green flax. Even on the way to death
she did not interrupt the work she had begun; the ten shirts of mail lay at
her feet, and she wrought at the eleventh. The mob derided her.
"Look at the red witch, how she mutters! She has no hymn-book in her
hand; no, there she sits with her ugly sorcery - tear it in a thousand
pieces!"
And they all pressed upon her, and wanted to tear up the shirts of mail.
Then eleven wild swans came flying up, and sat round about her on the cart,
and beat with their wings; and the mob gave way before them, terrified.
"That is a sign from Heaven! She is certainly innocent!" whispered many.
But they did not dare to say it aloud.
Now the executioner seized her by the hand; then she hastily threw the
eleven shirts over the swans, and immediately eleven handsome Prince stood
there. But the youngest had a swan`s wing instead of an arm, for a sleeve was
wanting to his shirt - she had not quite finished it.
"Now I may speak!" she said. "I am innocent!"
And the people who saw what happened bowed before her as before a saint;
but she sank lifeless into her brothers` arms, such an effect had suspense,
anguish, and pain had upon her.
"Yes, she is innocent," said the eldest brother.
And now he told everything that had taken place; and while he spoke a
fragrance arose as of a million of roses, for every piece of fagot in the pile
had taken root and was sending forth shoots; and a fragrant hedge stood there,
tall and great, covered with red roses, and at the top a flower, white and
shining, gleaming like a star. This flower the King plucked and placed in
Eliza`s bosom; and she arose with peace and happiness in her heart.
And all the church bells rang of themselves, and the birds came in great
flocks. And back to the castle went such a marriage-procession as no King
had ever seen.
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