Fairy Tales

THE SWINEHERD

ONCE UPON A TIME there was a poor prince. He had a kingdom that was quite small, but it was big enough so he could afford to get married, and that’s what he wanted to do.

Now it was pretty fresh of him to ask the emperor’s daughter, “Do you want to marry me?” But he dared it because his name was known far and wide, and there were hundreds of princesses who would have accepted him, but we’ll see if she does.

Now listen to what happened.

On the grave of the prince’s father there grew a rose tree, and a lovely rose tree it was! It only flowered every five years and then only with a single rose, but it was a rose that smelled so sweet that when you smelled it, you forgot all your sorrows and worries. The prince also had a nightingale that could sing as if all the most beautiful melodies sat in its little throat. That rose and that nightingale were to be given to the princess, and so they were both placed in big silver cases and were sent to her.

The emperor had the cases brought into the big room where the princess was playing house with her chambermaids, and when she saw the big cases with the gifts inside, she clapped her hands in joy.

“If only it’s a little pussycat!” she said, but then the rose tree with the lovely rose was unveiled.

“Oh, how beautifully it’s made,” said all the chambermaids.

“It’s more than beautiful,” the emperor said. “It’s neat!”

But the princess felt it and then was ready to cry.

“Oh yuck, pappa!” she said. “It’s not artificial, it’s real!”

“Yuck!” all the chambermaids said. “It’s real!”

On the grave of the prince’s father there grew a rose tree, and a lovely rose tree it was!

“Let’s see what’s in the other case before we get angry,” said the emperor, and then the nightingale was brought forth. It sang so beautifully that it would be impossible to say anything against it.

“Superbe! Charmant!” said the chambermaids for they all spoke French, one more badly than the next.

“How that bird reminds me of the saintly old empress’s music box,” said an old gentleman-in-waiting. “Oh yes, it’s just the same tone, the same delivery!”

“Yes indeed!” said the emperor, and he cried like a little child.

“But I don’t believe it’s real,” said the princess.

“Yes, it’s a real bird,” said those who had brought it.

“So let the bird fly away with the ideas of that prince,” said the princess, and she would not allow him to come under any circumstances.

But he kept his spirits up and smeared his face brown and black, pulled a peaked cap low on his head, and knocked at the door.

“Hello, emperor,” he said. “Do you have a job for me here at the castle?”

“Sure,” said the emperor. “I need someone to take care of the pigs because we have a lot of them.”

So the prince was hired as the royal swineherd. He was given a humble little room down by the pig sty, and that’s where he had to stay, but all day he sat and worked, and when it was evening, he had made a lovely little pot. There were bells all around it, and as soon as the pot boiled, they rang beautifully and played the old melody:Ach, Du lieber Augustine,

Alles ist weg, weg, weg. 1

But the most wonderful thing of all was that when you held your finger in the steam from the pot, you could immediately smell what food was being cooked at each chimney in town. See, this was really something different than that rose!

The princess came walking by with all her chambermaids, and when she heard the melody she stopped and looked so contented because she could also play “Ach, Du lieber Augustine.” It was the only thing she could play, and she played it with one finger.

“That’s the one I know!” she said. “That swineherd must be a cultivated man! Listen, go down and ask him what that instrument costs.”

So one of the chambermaids had to go into the pigpen, but she put on clods first.

“What do you want for that pot?” asked the attendant.

“I want ten kisses from the princess,” said the swineherd.

“God save us!” said the attendant.

“Well, I won’t take less,” answered the swineherd.

“Well, he is certainly rude,” said the princess, and she walked away, but when she had walked a little distance, the bells rang so lovely:Ach, Du lieber Augustine,

Alles ist weg, weg, weg.

“Listen,” said the princess, “ask him if he’ll take ten kisses from my chambermaids.”

“No thanks!” said the swineherd. “Ten kisses from the princess, or I keep the pot.”

“How unpleasant this is!” said the princess to the chambermaids, “but you’ll have to stand in front of me so no one sees it!”

And the chambermaids lined up and spread out their skirts, and the swineherd got his ten kisses, and she got the pot.

Well, what an amusing thing that was! All evening and all day the pot had to cook, and there wasn’t a chimney in the whole town where they didn’t know what was cooking, both at the mayor’s and the shoemaker’s. The chambermaids danced and clapped their hands.

“We know who’s having soup and spam! We know who’s having leg of lamb! How interesting this is!”

“Yes, but watch your mouths. I’m the emperor’s daughter!”

“God save us!” they all said.

The swineherd, that is to say, the prince—but they didn’t know he wasn’t a real swineherd—didn’t let the day go by without doing something, and so now he made a rattle. When you swung it around, it played all the waltzes and lively dances known since the start of time.

“But that’s superb,” said the princess when she went by. “I have never heard a more delightful composition. Listen! Go in and ask him what that instrument costs, but I won’t kiss for it!”

“He wants a hundred kisses from the princess,” said the chambermaid who had been sent to ask.

“I believe he’s crazy,” said the princess, and she walked away, but when she had walked a short distance, she stopped. “One has to support art!” she said. “I am the emperor’s daughter! Tell him that he can have ten kisses like yesterday, the rest he can take from my chambermaids.”

“Well, but we don’t want to do that,” the chambermaids said.

“Oh, fudge!” said the princess. “If I can kiss him, so can you. Remember I give you room and board and a salary,” and then the chambermaid had to go back into the pig sty again.

“A hundred kisses from the princess,” he said, “or no deal.”

“Stand around!” said she, and so all the chambermaids stood in front of her and he started kissing.

“What is that crowd doing down there by the pig sty?” asked the emperor, who had stepped out on the balcony. He rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses. “Why it’s the chambermaids at it again! I’d better go down and see.” And he pulled his slippers up in back because they were just shoes that he had worn down.

My heavens how he hurried!

As soon as he came into the yard, he slowed way down, and the chambermaids were so busy counting the kisses to be sure it was accurate that they didn’t notice the emperor, who stood up on his tiptoes.

“What’s this!?” he said when he saw them kissing, and then he hit them on their heads with his slipper, just as the swineherd got the eighty-sixth kiss. “Get out of here!” said the emperor, for he was very angry, and both the princess and the swineherd were banished from the kingdom.

She stood there crying, while the swineherd scolded, and the rain came pouring down.

“Alas, I’m a miserable person,” said the princess. “If only I’d accepted that lovely prince! Oh, how unhappy I am!”

The swineherd went behind a tree, wiped the black and brown colors from his face, threw away the dirty clothes, and stepped out in his prince outfit, so handsome that the princess had to curtsy before him.

“I have come to despise you, you see,” he said. “You didn’t want an honorable prince! You didn’t appreciate the rose or the nightingale, but you kissed a swineherd for the sake of a plaything! Now it serves you right.”

Then he went back to his kingdom and locked her out so she truly could sing:Ach, Du lieber Augustine,

Alles ist weg, weg, weg.

NOTE

1. From an eighteenth-century German folksong; the lines translate as: “Oh, my dearest Augustine / Everything is gone, gone, gone.”