THE SWINEHERD



There was once a poor Prince, who had a kingdom. His kingdom was very small,

but still quite large enough to marry upon; and he wished to marry.



It was certainly rather cool of him to say to the Emperor's daughter, "Will

you have me?" But so he did; for his name was renowned far and wide; and there

were a hundred princesses who would have answered, "Yes!" and "Thank you

kindly." We shall see what this princess said.



Listen!



It happened that where the Prince's father lay buried, there grew a rose

tree--a most beautiful rose tree, which blossomed only once in every five

years, and even then bore only one flower, but that was a rose! It smelt so

sweet that all cares and sorrows were forgotten by him who inhaled its

fragrance.



And furthermore, the Prince had a nightingale, who could sing in such a manner

that it seemed as though all sweet melodies dwelt in her little throat. So the

Princess was to have the rose, and the nightingale; and they were accordingly

put into large silver caskets, and sent to her.



The Emperor had them brought into a large hall, where the Princess was playing

at "Visiting," with the ladies of the court; and when she saw the caskets with

the presents, she clapped her hands for joy.



"Ah, if it were but a little pussy-cat!" said she; but the rose tree, with its

beautiful rose came to view.



"Oh, how prettily it is made!" said all the court ladies.



"It is more than pretty," said the Emperor, "it is charming!"



But the Princess touched it, and was almost ready to cry.



"Fie, papa!" said she. "It is not made at all, it is natural!"



"Let us see what is in the other casket, before we get into a bad humor," said

the Emperor. So the nightingale came forth and sang so delightfully that at

first no one could say anything ill-humored of her.



"Superbe! Charmant! exclaimed the ladies; for they all used to chatter French,

each one worse than her neighbor.



"How much the bird reminds me of the musical box that belonged to our blessed

Empress," said an old knight. "Oh yes! These are the same tones, the same

execution."



"Yes! yes!" said the Emperor, and he wept like a child at the remembrance.



"I will still hope that it is not a real bird," said the Princess.



"Yes, it is a real bird," said those who had brought it. "Well then let the

bird fly," said the Princess; and she positively refused to see the Prince.



However, he was not to be discouraged; he daubed his face over brown and

black; pulled his cap over his ears, and knocked at the door.



"Good day to my lord, the Emperor!" said he. "Can I have employment at the

palace?"



"Why, yes," said the Emperor. "I want some one to take care of the pigs, for

we have a great many of them."



So the Prince was appointed "Imperial Swineherd." He had a dirty little room

close by the pigsty; and there he sat the whole day, and worked. By the

evening he had made a pretty little kitchen-pot. Little bells were hung all

round it; and when the pot was boiling, these bells tinkled in the most

charming manner, and played the old melody,



"Ach! du lieber Augustin,

Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"*



* "Ah! dear Augustine!

All is gone, gone, gone!"





But what was still more curious, whoever held his finger in the smoke of the

kitchen-pot, immediately smelt all the dishes that were cooking on every

hearth in the city--this, you see, was something quite different from the

rose.



Now the Princess happened to walk that way; and when she heard the tune, she

stood quite still, and seemed pleased; for she could play "Lieber Augustine";

it was the only piece she knew; and she played it with one finger.



"Why there is my piece," said the Princess. "That swineherd must certainly

have been well educated! Go in and ask him the price of the instrument."



So one of the court-ladies must run in; however, she drew on wooden slippers

first.



"What will you take for the kitchen-pot?" said the lady.



"I will have ten kisses from the Princess," said the swineherd.



"Yes, indeed!" said the lady.



"I cannot sell it for less," rejoined the swineherd.



"He is an impudent fellow!" said the Princess, and she walked on; but when she

had gone a little way, the bells tinkled so prettily



"Ach! du lieber Augustin,

Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"



"Stay," said the Princess. "Ask him if he will have ten kisses from the ladies

of my court."



"No, thank you!" said the swineherd. "Ten kisses from the Princess, or I keep

the kitchen-pot myself."



"That must not be, either!" said the Princess. "But do you all stand before me

that no one may see us."



And the court-ladies placed themselves in front of her, and spread out their

dresses--the swineherd got ten kisses, and the Princess--the kitchen-pot.



That was delightful! The pot was boiling the whole evening, and the whole of

the following day. They knew perfectly well what was cooking at every fire

throughout the city, from the chamberlain's to the cobbler's; the court-ladies

danced and clapped their hands.



"We know who has soup, and who has pancakes for dinner to-day, who has

cutlets, and who has eggs. How interesting!"



"Yes, but keep my secret, for I am an Emperor's daughter."



The swineherd--that is to say--the Prince, for no one knew that he was other

than an ill-favored swineherd, let not a day pass without working at

something; he at last constructed a rattle, which, when it was swung round,

played all the waltzes and jig tunes, which have ever been heard since the

creation of the world.



"Ah, that is superbe!" said the Princess when she passed by. "I have never

heard prettier compositions! Go in and ask him the price of the instrument;

but mind, he shall have no more kisses!"



"He will have a hundred kisses from the Princess!" said the lady who had been

to ask.



"I think he is not in his right senses!" said the Princess, and walked on, but

when she had gone a little way, she stopped again. "One must encourage art,"

said she, "I am the Emperor's daughter. Tell him he shall, as on yesterday,

have ten kisses from me, and may take the rest from the ladies of the court."



"Oh--but we should not like that at all!" said they. "What are you muttering?"

asked the Princess. "If I can kiss him, surely you can. Remember that you owe

everything to me." So the ladies were obliged to go to him again.



"A hundred kisses from the Princess," said he, "or else let everyone keep his

own!"



"Stand round!" said she; and all the ladies stood round her whilst the kissing

was going on.



"What can be the reason for such a crowd close by the pigsty?" said the

Emperor, who happened just then to step out on the balcony; he rubbed his

eyes, and put on his spectacles. "They are the ladies of the court; I must go

down and see what they are about!" So he pulled up his slippers at the heel,

for he had trodden them down.



As soon as he had got into the court-yard, he moved very softly, and the

ladies were so much engrossed with counting the kisses, that all might go on

fairly, that they did not perceive the Emperor. He rose on his tiptoes.



"What is all this?" said he, when he saw what was going on, and he boxed the

Princess's ears with his slipper, just as the swineherd was taking the

eighty-sixth kiss.



"March out!" said the Emperor, for he was very angry; and both Princess and

swineherd were thrust out of the city.



The Princess now stood and wept, the swineherd scolded, and the rain poured

down.



"Alas! Unhappy creature that I am!" said the Princess. "If I had but married

the handsome young Prince! Ah! how unfortunate I am!"



And the swineherd went behind a tree, washed the black and brown color from

his face, threw off his dirty clothes, and stepped forth in his princely

robes; he looked so noble that the Princess could not help bowing before him.



"I am come to despise thee," said he. "Thou would'st not have an honorable

Prince! Thou could'st not prize the rose and the nightingale, but thou wast

ready to kiss the swineherd for the sake of a trumpery plaything. Thou art

rightly served."



He then went back to his own little kingdom, and shut the door of his palace

in her face. Now she might well sing,



"Ach! du lieber Augustin,

Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"

****

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