Devica na Stekleni gori

Prevod

Once upon a time there was a man who had a hay meadow far up on a hillside, and in the meadow stood a barn where he stored his fodder. But there cannot have been much in that barn these last few years, I should think; for every Midsummer Night, when the grass was at its finest and lushest, the meadow was grazed quite bare, as though a whole herd had been there feeding in the night. This happened once, and it happened twice, and then the man grew tired of it. He told his sons—he had three, and the third was Askepot, as you may well guess—that one of them must spend Midsummer Night in the outlying hay barn, for it would never do to have every last blade of grass eaten up again, as it had been the two previous years. Whoever went must keep a sharp lookout, the man said. Well, the eldest was willing to go and guard the meadow; he would look after the grass, he said, so that neither man nor beast nor the Devil himself should get any of it. Towards evening he went off to the barn and lay down to sleep, but a little way into the night there came such a rumbling and such an earthquake that the walls and roof shook. The lad leapt up and took to his heels as fast as ever he could, not daring even to look behind him; and that night the hay was eaten up just as it had been in the years before.

The next Midsummer Eve the man said again that they could not go on losing all the grass in the outlying meadow year after year. One of his sons must go and watch over it, and watch over it properly, too;

and so the second son was willing to try his luck that evening. He went off to the hay barn and lay down to sleep, just as his brother had done; but during the night there came a rumbling and an earthquake even worse than on the previous Midsummer Night. When the lad heard it, he took fright and ran as fast as though he were being paid for it.

The following year it was Askeladden’s turn; but as he made ready to go, the other two laughed and mocked him. “Yes, you’re just the one to look after the hay, you who have never learnt anything but how to sit in the ashes and roast yourself,” they said. But Askeladden paid no heed to their talk, and towards evening he sauntered off to the outlying meadow. There he went into the hay barn and lay down, but after a while such a dreadful rumbling and crashing began that it was fearsome to hear. Oh, if it gets no worse than this, I can stand it, thought Askeladden. A little later there came another crash and an earthquake that sent the wisps of hay flying about the lad.

Oh, if it gets no worse than this, I can stand it, thought Askeladden. But just then there came a third rumbling and an earthquake so great that the lad thought the walls and roof had come tumbling down;

but when it was over, all at once everything around him grew perfectly still. I wonder if it will come again? thought Askeladden. But no, it did not come again; all was quiet and stayed quiet, and after he had lain there a little while, he heard what sounded like a horse standing just outside the barn door, chewing. He crept over to the crack in the doorway to see what it was. There stood a horse, cropping the grass, and never in his life had Askeladden seen a horse so big and sleek and fine. It wore a saddle and bridle and carried a full suit of armour for a knight, all of copper, polished till it shone. Aha! So you’re the one who eats up our hay, thought the lad. I’ll soon put a stop to that. He quickly took out his fire steel and tossed it over the horse, and then it had no power to stir from the spot. It grew so tame that the lad could do whatever he liked with it. So he mounted it and rode away to a place no one knew about, and there he kept it. When he came home again, his brothers laughed and asked how he had fared. “You can’t have stayed long in the hay barn, if you ever got as far as the meadow at all,” they said. “I lay in the hay barn till the sun rose, but I neither heard nor saw a thing,” said the lad. “Heaven knows what frightened you so.” “Well, we’ll see how well you’ve guarded the meadow,” answered his brothers; but when they got there, the grass stood just as tall and thick as it had the evening before.

The next Midsummer Night it was just the same: neither of the two brothers dared go to the outlying meadow to guard the hay, but Askeladden dared. And exactly the same thing happened as on the previous Midsummer Night: first there came a rumbling and an earthquake, then another a little later, and then yet another, but all three earthquakes were far, far stronger this time. Then all at once everything grew perfectly still again, and the lad heard something chewing outside the barn door;

so he crept as softly as he could to the crack in the doorway—and sure enough, there stood another horse close against the wall, munching and cropping the grass. It was much bigger and sleeker even than the first, and it had a saddle on its back, a bridle on its head, and a full suit of armour for a knight—all of shining silver, and as splendid as anyone could wish to see. Aha! So you’re the one who’s eating up our hay tonight, thought the lad. I’ll soon put a stop to that. He took out his fire steel and tossed it over the horse’s mane, and there it stood, as meek as a lamb. So the lad rode this horse, too, to the place where he kept the other, and then went home again. “The hay meadow must look a pretty sight today,” said his brothers. “Oh, indeed it does!” said Askeladden.

They went off to see it again, and there stood the grass, as thick and tall as before, but that did nothing to make them any kinder to Askeladden. When the third Midsummer Night came, neither of the two elder brothers dared sleep in the outlying barn and guard the grass, for they had been so frightened on the nights they had spent there that they never forgot it. But Askeladden dared; and exactly the same thing happened as on the two previous nights. There came three earthquakes, each more dreadful than the last, and at the third the lad was tossed from one wall of the barn to the other; but then all at once everything grew perfectly still. When he had lain there a little while, he heard something chewing outside the barn door. Once more he crept to the crack in the doorway—and there stood a horse just outside, far, far bigger and sleeker than the other two he had caught. Aha!

So you’re the one who’s eating up our hay this time, thought the lad. I’ll soon put a stop to that. He snatched out his fire steel and tossed it over the horse, and there it stood as though nailed to the ground, and the lad could do whatever he liked with it. He rode off to the place where he kept the other two, and afterwards he went home again. There his two brothers mocked him just as they had before. He must have kept a fine watch over the grass in the meadow that night, they said, for he looked as though he were still walking in his sleep. But Askeladden paid no heed; he only told them to go and look. So they did, and this time too the grass stood just as fine and thick as ever.

The king of the country where Askeladden’s father lived had a daughter whom he would give to no one but the man who could ride to the top of the glass mountain—for close by the royal palace stood a very, very high mountain of glass, smooth as ice. The princess was to sit at its very summit with three golden apples in her lap, and whoever could ride up and take the three golden apples should have her and half the kingdom. The king had this proclaimed outside every church in the land, and in many other kingdoms too. The princess was so beautiful that everyone who saw her fell in love with her, whether he wished to or not—and so you may well imagine that all the princes and knights were eager to win her, with half the kingdom into the bargain. They came riding from every corner of the world, so splendid that they shone, and on horses that fairly pranced along; and every one of them thought he would be the one to win the princess.

When the day appointed by the king arrived, the foot of the glass mountain was so thick with knights and princes that it teemed with them. Everyone who could crawl or walk wanted to go and see who would win the princess, and Askeladden’s two brothers were going too;

but they would not have him with them on any account. If they went about with such a changeling, so filthy and black from lying and poking in the ashes, people would only make fun of them, they said. “Well, I can go just as well alone as by myself,” said Askeladden. When the two brothers reached the glass mountain, all the princes and knights were riding at it till their horses foamed; but little good it did them, I should think, for the moment the horses set a hoof on the mountain, they slipped, and not one of them got so much as a few feet up. Nor was that any wonder, for the mountain was as smooth as a windowpane and as steep as the wall of a house. But they all longed to have the princess and half the kingdom, and they rode and they slid, and that was all that came of it.

At last all the horses were so tired that they could do no more, and so drenched with sweat that the foam streamed down their sides, and the knights had to give up. The king was already thinking of having it proclaimed that the riding would begin again the next day, to see whether things might go better then; but just at that moment a knight came riding on a horse so fine that no one had ever seen its like. He had copper armour and a copper bridle, all so bright that it gleamed. The others called out that he might as well spare himself the trouble of trying to ride up the glass mountain, for it was no use anyway; but he turned a deaf ear to them. He rode straight towards the glass mountain and up it as though it were nothing at all, and a good way too—about a third of the way, it must have been;

but when he got there, he turned his horse and rode down again. The princess thought she had never seen so handsome a knight, and as he rode she sat thinking, Heaven grant that he comes all the way up! When she saw him turn his horse, she threw one of the golden apples after him, and it rolled into his shoe. But no sooner had he reached the foot of the mountain than he rode away so fast that no one knew what had become of him. That evening all the princes and knights had to appear before the king, so that the one who had ridden so far up the glass mountain could show the golden apple the princess had thrown. But none of them had it; they came one after another, and not one could produce the apple.

That evening Askepot’s brothers came home too, and told him at great length about the riding up the glass mountain. At first no one had managed to get so much as a single step up. “But then someone came in copper armour, with a copper bridle, so bright that you could see him shining a long way off,” they said. “And there was a fellow who could ride! He rode more than a third of the way up the glass mountain, and he could have ridden right to the top if he had wanted; but he turned there, for he must have thought that was enough for one day.” “Oh, I should have liked to see him too,” said Askeladden—he was sitting in the hearth, poking about as usual. “You, indeed!” said his brothers. “You look just the thing to be among such fine gentlemen, you ugly wretch, sitting there!” The next day the brothers were going off again, and once more Askepot asked whether he might go with them and watch the riders. But no, he certainly might not; he was far too ugly and filthy, they said. “Well, well, I’m just as happy to go alone as by myself,” said Askepot.

When the brothers reached the glass mountain, all the princes and knights began riding again, and you may be sure they had seen to their horses’ shoes this time. But it did no good: they rode and they slid, just as they had the day before, and no one got so much as a yard up;

and when they had worn their horses out so that they could do no more, they all had to stop again. Then the king thought he had better proclaim that the riding would take place for the last time on the following day, in case things might go better then. But he thought again: he had better wait a little longer, he decided, in case the knight in copper armour should come that day too. They saw nothing of him, but all at once someone came riding on a horse far, far finer than the one the knight in copper armour had ridden. This knight had silver armour, a silver saddle, and a silver bridle, all so bright that they glittered and shone from far away. Again the others called out to him, saying that he might as well not attempt to ride up the glass mountain, for it would never be any use; but the knight paid no heed. He rode straight to the glass mountain and up it, even farther than the knight in copper armour; but when he had gone two-thirds of the way, he turned his horse and rode down again. The princess liked him even better, and sat wishing he would only come all the way up; but when she saw him turn, she threw the second apple after him, and it rolled into his shoe. The moment he reached the foot of the glass mountain, he rode away so fast that no one could see what had become of him.

That evening, when everyone had to appear before the king and the princess so that whoever had the golden apple could show it, they came one after another, but no one had a golden apple. Just as on the previous day, the two brothers came home that evening and told how things had gone: everyone had ridden, and no one could get up. “But at long last someone came in silver armour, and he had a silver bridle and a silver saddle too,” they said. “And he could ride! He went about two-thirds of the way up, but then he turned back. There was a fellow for you, and the princess threw the second golden apple to him,” said the brothers.

“Oh, I should have liked to see him too,” said Askeladden. “Oh yes, he was surely as bright as the ashes you sit poking in, you ugly black wretch!” said his brothers.

On the third day everything went just as it had on the days before. Askeladden wanted to go along and watch the riding, and the other two would not have him with them; and when they reached the glass mountain, no one could get so much as a yard up. Everyone was waiting for the knight in silver armour, but there was neither sight nor sound of him. At long last, however, someone came riding on a horse so fine that no one had ever seen its equal. He had golden armour, a golden saddle, and a golden bridle, so bright, so very bright that they glittered and shone from a long way off. The other knights and princes did not even get as far as calling out to tell him it was no use trying, so astonished were they at his splendour. He rode straight towards the glass mountain and flew up it as though it were nothing at all, so that the princess did not even have time to wish he would come right to the top. The moment he reached her, he took the third golden apple from her lap, then turned his horse and rode down again; and before anyone knew it, he had vanished from their sight.

When the two brothers came home that evening, they talked long and eagerly about how the riding had gone that day, and at last they told him about the knight in golden armour.

“There was a fellow for you! There isn’t so splendid a knight in all the world!” said his brothers. “Oh, I should have liked to see him too!” said Askeladden. “Yes, there’s rather less of a gleam in that heap of coals you lie grubbing in, you ugly black wretch!” said his brothers.

The next day all the knights and princes had to appear before the king and his daughter—it must have grown too late the evening before, I suppose—so that whoever had the golden apple could show it. But they came one after another, first the princes and then the knights, and no one had a golden apple. “But someone must have it,” said the king, “for we all saw someone ride up and take it.” So he ordered everyone in the kingdom to come to the palace and see whether they could produce the golden apple. They came one after another, but no one had the golden apple, and at long last Askeladden’s two brothers came too. They were the last, and the king asked whether there was no one else left in the kingdom. “Oh yes, we have a brother,” the two said, “but he certainly hasn’t taken the golden apple. He hasn’t been out of the ash heap on any of these days.” “Well, that makes no difference,” said the king. “If everyone else has come to the palace, he may come too.” And so Askeladden had to go to the royal palace as well.

“Have you got the golden apple?” asked the king. “Yes, here’s the first, and here’s the second, and here’s the third as well,” said Askeladden, taking all three golden apples out of his pocket. At the same moment he threw off his sooty rags, and there he stood in the golden armour, so splendid that he shone. “Yes, you shall have my daughter and half my kingdom; you have well earned them both,” said the king. So there was a wedding, and Askelad won the princess, and you may be sure there was merry feasting at that wedding, for they could all make merry, even if they could not ride up the glass mountain; and if they have not finished making merry, they are at it still.

Izvirnik

Der var engang en Mand, som havde en Slaateng, der laa langt oppe i Lien et Steds, og paa den Engen stod et Hølade, han havde at bjerge Foderet i. Men der havde nok ikke været Stort i Ladet i de sidste Aar, skal jeg troe; for hver St. Hansnat, naar Græsset stod gjildest og frodigst, blev Slaatengen reent svartbeitet, som om en heel Drift skulde gaaet der og gnavet om Natten. Det hendte een Gang og det hendte to Gange, men saa blev Manden kjed af det og sagde til Sønnerne sine — han havde tre, og den tredie det var Askepot, kan du vide — at nu fik en af dem ligge borte i Udengladet om St. Hansnatten, for det gik ikke an, at Græsset skulde blive opædt Rub og Stub igjen, ligesom de to forrige Aarene; og den, som vilde i Veien,

maatte passe vel paa, sagde Manden. Ja, saa vilde da den Ældste bort at gjæte Engen; han skulde nok passe Græsset, meente han, og det saa hverken Folk eller Fæ eller Fanden selv skulde faae Noget af det. Da det led mod Kvelden, gik han bort i Ladet og lagde sig til at sove, men lidt ud paa Natten kom der slig en Duur og sligt et Jordskjælv, at Vægge og Tag rystede; og Gutten op og til Beens det forteste, han havde lært, han turde ikke engang see sig om, og Høet blev opædt den Nat ligesom de forrige Aarene.

Næste St. Hansaften sagde Manden igjen, at det ikke kunde gaae an, de Aar efter Aar mistede alt Græsset paa Udengen, nu fik en af Sønnerne bort og passe det og passe det vel ogsaa; og saa vilde den Næstældste prøve sig den Kvelden. Han gik da bort i Høladet og lagde sig til at sove, ligesom Broderen havde gjort; men ud paa Natten kom der en Duur og et Jordskjælv, endda værre end forrige St. Hansnat; og da Gutten hørte det, blev han ræd, og til Beens saa fort, som han skulde havt Betaling for det.

Aaret efter kom Raden til Askeladden; men da han lavede sig til at gaae, loe de andre To og gjorde Nar af ham. „Ja du skal blive den Rette til at passe Høet, du, som ikke har lært Andet end sidde i Asken og stege dig,“ sagde de, men Askeladden brød sig ikke om hvad de snakkede, da det led mod Kvelden, ranglede han bortover til Udengen han. Der gik han ind i Høladet og lagde sig, men da det led om en Stund, begyndte det at dure og brage, saa det var fælt. Aa bliver det ikke værre, faaer jeg vel hærde paa, tænkte Askeladden. Om Lidt kom der et Brag igjen og et Jordskjælv, saa Høstraaene føg omkring Gutten.

Aa, bliver det ikke værre, faaer jeg vel hærde paa, tænkte Askeladden. Men allerbedst det var, kom den tredie Duur og et Jordskjælv, saa Gutten tænkte, at Vægge og Tag havde ramlet sammen; men da det var gaaet over, blev der med Eet blikstille rundt om ham. Skal troe, det kommer igjen? tænkte Askeladden; men nei, det kom ikke igjen, det var stille og blev stille og da han havde ligget en liden Stund, hørte han, ligesom en Hest stod og tyggede tæt udenfor Ladedøren. Han listede sig da bort i Dørgløtten og skulde see, hvad det var; saa stod der en Hest og gnavede, og saa stor og fed og gjild Hest havde Askeladden aldrig seet før, og Saddel og Bidsel laae der paa den og fuld Rustning til en Ridder, og Altsammen var af Kobber, saa blankt at det

skinte i det. Haa, haa! er det dig, som æder op Høet vort, tænkte Gutten, det skal jeg nok forbyde dig; han skyndte sig og tog op Ildstaalet sit og kastede over Hesten, saa havde den ikke Magt at røre sig af Flækken, den blev saa tam, at Gutten kunde gjøre med den, hvad han vilde. Han satte sig da op paa den og red bort til et Sted, Ingen vidste Noget om; der havde han den. Da han kom hjem igjen, loe Brødrene og spurgte, hvorledes det var gaaet ham. „Du blev vel ikke længe liggende i Høladet, dersom du ellers har været saa langt som til Udengen,“ sagde de. „Jeg laa i Høladet til Solen randt, men jeg hverken hørte eller saa Noget, jeg,“ sagde Gutten; „Gud veed, hvad det var, I blev saa rædde for.“ „Ja, vi faae vel see, hvorledes

du har passet Engen,“ svarede Brødrene; men da de kom derbort, stod Græsset ligesaa langt og tykt som om Kvelden. Den næste St. Hansnat gik det ligeens: Ingen af de to Brødrene turde gaae bort i Udengen og passe Slaatten, men Askeladden turde; og saa hændte akkurat det Samme som forrige St. Hansnat: først kom der en Duur og et Jordskjælv, saa om lidt et til, og saa endda et, men alle tre Jordskjælv vare meget, meget stærkere denne Gang. Saa blev der med Eet blikstille igjen, og Gutten hørte, Noget tyggede udenfor Ladedøren; han listede sig da, saa sagte han kunde, bort i Dørgløtten — jo! der stod en Hest igjen lige ved Væggen og tamsede og gnog; og den var endda meget større og federe end den forrige; og

Saddel laa der paa Ryggen dens, og Bidsel var der paa den og fuld Rustning til en Ridder — Altsammen af blankt Sølv og saa prægtigt, som Nogen vilde see. Haa, haa! er det dig som æder op Høet vort i Nat, tænkte Gutten, det skal jeg vel forbyde dig. Han tog op Ildstaalet sit og kastede over Manken paa Hesten, saa stod den saa spag som et Lam. Ja Gutten red den Hesten ogsaa bort til Stedet, hvor han havde den anden, og gik saa hjem igjen. „Idag seer det vel vakkert ud borte i Slaatengen,“ sagde Brødrene. „Aa, jamen!“ sagde Askeladden.

De skulde da bort igjen, og saa stod Græsset baade tykt og langt ligesom før, men de bleve nu ikke blidere paa Askeladden for det. Da den tredie St. Hansnatten kom, turde heller Ingen af de to ældste Brødrene ligge i Udengladet og passe Græsset, for de vare blevne saa hjerteskræmte den Nat, de laae der, at de aldrig glemte det meer; men Askeladden turde; og saa hændte netop det Samme som de to forrige Nætter: der kom tre Jordskjælv, det ene fælere end det andet, ved det sidste dandsede Gutten fra den ene Ladevæg til den anden, men saa blev det paa een Gang blikstille. Da han saa havde ligget en liden Stund, hørte han Noget tygge udenfor Ladedøren; han listede sig da igjen bort

i Dørgløtten — saa stod en Hest tæt udenfor, meget, meget større og federe end de to andre, han havde fanget. Haa, haa! er det dig, der æder op Høet vort denne Gang, tænkte Gutten; det skal jeg vel forbyde dig; — han rev op Ildstaalet sit og kastede over den, saa stod den, som den var naglet til Marken, og Gutten kunde gjøre med den, hvad han vilde. Han red nu hen til det Sted, hvor han havde de To andre, og derefter gik han hjem igjen. Der gjorde de to Brødrene Nar af ham ligesom de forrige Gange, den Natten havde han vist passet Græsset i Udengen godt, sagde de, for han saa da ud som han gik og sov endnu; men Askeladden brød sig ikke om det, han bad dem bare gaae bort og see, det gjorde de, saa stod Græsset lige gjildt og

tykt denne Gang ogsaa. Kongen der i Landet, hvor Askeladdens Fader boede, havde en Datter, som han ikke vilde give til Nogen uden den, som kunde ride op over Glasbjerget — for der var et høit, høit Glasbjerg, blankt som en Iis, tæt ved Kongsgaarden —. Øverst oppe paa det skulde Kongsdatteren sidde med tre Guldæbler i Skjødet, og den, som kunde ride op og tage de tre Guldæblerne, skulde faae hende og halve Riget, det lod Kongen lyse op paa alle Kirkebakker i hele Landet og i mange andre Kongeriger ogsaa. Prindsessen var saa deilig, at Alle, som saae hende, maatte blive forlibte i hende, enten de vilde eller ei — og saa kan du nok vide, at alle Prindser og Riddere havde Lyst til at vinde hende og

halve Kongeriget til, og derfor kom de ridende fra alle Verdsens Kanter, saa gjilde at det lyste af dem, og paa slige Heste at de gik bare paa Dands; og der var Ingen, uden han tænkte, at han skulde vinde Prindsessen. Da Dagen kom, som Kongen havde bestemt, var der saa tykt af Riddere og Prindser ved Glasbjerget at det yrede, og saa vilde nu Hver, som krybe og gaae kunde, did og see hvem der vandt Kongsdatteren, og Askeladdens to Brødre vilde da ogsaa i Veien; men ham vilde de slet ikke have med, for vare de i Følge med slig en Bytting, saa fæl og sort som han var efter det, han havde ligget i Asken og gravet, vilde Folk bare gjøre Nar af dem, sagde de. „Ja, jeg gaaer ligesaa godt alene som for mig selv, jeg,“ sagde Askeladden. Da de to Brødrene kom til Glasbjerget, holdt

alle Prindserne og Ridderne paa at ride, saa det skummede af Hestene deres; men det nyttede dem ikke stort, skal jeg troe, for bare Hestene satte Hoven paa Bjerget, gled de, og der var ikke Een, som kom saameget som et Par Alen op efter. Det var heller intet Under, for Bjerget var glat som en Glasrude og brat som en Stuevæg. Men Kongsdatteren og halve Riget vilde Alle gjerne have, og de red og de gled, og det blev aldrig Andet.

Tilsidst vare alle Hestene saa trætte, at de ikke orkede meer, og saa svedte vare de, at Skummet væltede ned efter dem, og saa maatte Ridderne give sig. Kongen tænkte alt paa, at han skulde lade lyse op, at Ridningen begyndte paa Nyt den næste Dag, om det skulde gaae bedre da; men med det Samme kom der en Ridder paa en Hest saa gjild, at Ingen havde seet slig Hest før, og Kobberrustning og Kobberbidsel havde han, Alt saa blankt, at det lyste i det. De Andre raabte til ham, at han gjerne kunde spare sig for at prøve at ride op efter Glasbjerget, for det nyttede saa ikke alligevel; men han hørte ikke paa det Øret; han red lige bort imod Glasbjerget og op efter det som ingen Ting, og det et godt Stykke, det kunde vel være som en Trediepart;

da han kom der, vendte han Hesten og red ned igjen. Men saa deilig en Ridder syntes Prindsessen hun aldrig havde seet før, og medens han red, sad hun og tænkte: Gud give han bare kom op over! og da hun saa, han vendte Hesten, kastede hun det ene Guldæblet efter ham, og det trillede ned i Skoen hans. Men vel han var kommen ned af Bjerget, red han sin Vei og det saa fort, at Ingen vidste, hvor det blev af ham. Den Kvelden skulde nu alle Prindserne og Ridderne frem for Kongen, for at den, som havde redet saa langt op efter Glasbjerget, kunde vise frem Guldæblet, Kongsdatteren havde kastet. Men der var Ingen, som havde noget; den Ene kom efter den Anden, og Ingen kunde vise Æblet.

Om Kvelden kom Askepots Brødre ogsaa hjem igjen, og fortalte baade vidt og bredt om Ridningen op efter Glasbjerget, at først saa var der slet Ingen, som orkede at komme saa meget som et Skridt op over; „men saa kom der En, som havde Kobberrustning og Kobberbidsel, saa blankt, at det lyste lang Vei af ham,“ sagde de, „og det var Gut, som kunde ride; han red over en Trediepart op efter Glasbjerget, og han kunde nok redet heelt op, havde han bare villet; men der vendte han, for han syntes vel, det var nok for den Gangen.“ „Aa, ham skulde jeg rigtig havt Moro af at see, jeg ogsaa,“ sagde Askeladden — han sad i Skorstenen og grov, som han pleiede, han. „Ja du!“ sagde Brødrene, „du seer ud som du kunde være tilstede mellem

saa høie Herrer, dit stygge Bæst, du sidder der!“ Den anden Dag vilde Brødrene i Veien igjen, og Askepot bad ogsaa den Gang, om han kunde faae Lov til at være i Følge med dem og see paa dem, som red; men nei, det fik han slet ikke, det var han for styg og for fæl til, sagde de. „Ja, ja, jeg gaaer lige saa gjerne alene som for mig selv, ogsaa jeg,“ sagde Askepot. Da Brødrene kom til Glasbjerget, begyndte alle Prindser og Ridder at ride igjen, og da kan det vel hænde, at de havde skoet Hestene sine; men det hjalp ikke: de red og de gled; ligesom forrige Dagen, og Ingen kom saa meget som en Alen op efter; og da de havde maset ud Hestene sine, saa de ikke orkede mere, maatte de holde op igjen Allesammen. Saa tænkte Kongen, at

han vel fik lyse op, at Ridningen skulde gaae for sig for sidste Gang Dagen efter, om det kanskee skulde gaae bedre da. Men saa betænkte han sig igjen: han fik vel vente lidt endnu, meente han, om han i Kobberrustningen skulde komme igjen denne Dag ogsaa. Ham saae de ikke noget til, men ret som det var, saa kom der En paa en Hest, der var meget, meget gjildere end den, Ridderen i Kobberrustningen havde havt, og denne havde Sølvrustning og Sølvsadel og Sølvbidsel, Alt saa blankt, at det skinte og lyste i det langt borte. De Andre raabte til ham igjen og sagde, at han gjerne kunde lade være at prøve Ridningen op efter Glasbjerget, for det nyttede saa aldrig alligevel; men Ridderen hørte ikke efter det; han red lige bort til Glasbjerget og op

efter det endnu længer, end han i Kobberrustningen; men da han var kommen saa langt som de to Tredieparter op, vendte han Hesten og red ned igjen. Ham syntes Prindsessen endda bedre om, og hun sad og ønskede, at han bare maatte komme op over; men da hun saa, han vendte, kastede hun det andet Æble efter ham, og det trillede ned i Skoen hans; og med det samme han kom ned af Glasbjerget, red han afsted saa fort, at Ingen kunde see, hvor det blev af ham.

Om Kvelden, da Alle skulde frem for Kongen og Prindsessen, for at den, som havde Guldæblet, kunde vise det frem, kom den Ene efter den Anden, men Ingen havde noget Guldæble. Ligesom forrige Dagen kom de to Brødrene hjem den Kvelden ogsaa og fortalte, hvorledes det var gaaet, at Alle havde redet og Ingen kunde komme op; „men langt om længe kom der En i en Sølvrustning, og Sølvbidsel og Sølvsadel havde han ogsaa,“ sagde de, „og han kunde ride; han satte vel som to Tredieparter op efter, men saa vendte han igjen. Det var Gut det, og til ham kastede Prindsessen det andet Guldæble,“ sagde Brødrene.

„Aa, ham skulde jeg ogsaa havt Moro af at see,“ sagde Askeladden. „Aa ja, han var nu vel saa blank som Asken, du sidder og graver i, dit stygge sorte Bæst!“ sagde Brødrene. Den tredie Dag gik Alt lige eens som de forrige Dagene: Askeladden vilde være med og see paa Ridningen, og de To vilde ikke have ham i Følge med sig; og da de kom til Glasbjerget, var der Ingen, der kom saa langt som en Alen op efter. Alle ventede nu paa ham i Sølvrustningen, men han var hverken at høre eller see; men langt om længe kom der En paa en Hest saa gjild, Ingen havde seet Mage til, han havde Guldrustning og Guldsadel og Guldbidsel saa blankt, saa blankt, at det lyste og skinte lang Vei af det. De andre Riddere og Prindser kom ikke

en Gang til at raabe til ham og sige, at det ikke nyttede at prøve sig, saa forundrede bleve de ved at see, hvor gjild han var. Han red lige bort imod Glasbjerget og føg op efter det som ingen Ting, saa at Prindsessen ikke en Gang fik Stunder at ønske, at han maatte komme heelt op. Med det samme han havde redet op, tog han det tredie Guldæble af Skjødet paa Prindsessen, og saa vendte han Hesten og red ned igjen, men saa var han ogsaa borte for Øinene paa dem, før de vidste Ordet af det.

Da de to Brødrene kom hjem igjen om Kvelden, fortalte de baade vel og længe om, hvorledes det var gaaet med Ridningen den Dagen, og tilsidst fortalte de ogsaa om Ridderen i Guldrustningen. „Det var vel Gut det! saa gjild Ridder findes der ikke i Verden!“ sagde Brødrene. „Aa ham skulde jeg havt Moro af at see, jeg ogsaa!“ sagde Askeladden. „Ja, det gloer nu ikke fuldt saa meget i Kulhaugen, du ligger og roder i, dit stygge sorte Bæst!“ sagde Brødrene.

Dagen efter skulde alle Ridderne og Prindserne frem for Kongen og Kongsdatteren — det var nok blevet for seent om Kvelden troer jeg — for at den, som havde Guldæblet, skulde vise det frem; men den Ene kom efter den Anden, først Prindserne og saa Ridderne, og Ingen havde noget Guldæble. „Ja, men En maa have det,“ sagde Kongen, „for det var Noget, vi saae Allesammen, at der var En, som red op og tog det;“ og saa gav han Befaling til, at Alle, som i Landet var, skulde komme op paa Slottet og prøve at vise frem Guldæblet. Ja, de kom den Ene efter den Anden, men Ingen havde Guldæblet, og langt om længe kom de to Brødrene til Askeladden ogsaa. De vare de sidste, og saa spurgte Kongen, om der da slet ingen Flere var igjen i

Riget. „Aa jo, vi har en Broder,“ sagde de To, „men han har nok ikke taget Guldæblet; han har ikke været ude af Askehaugen nogen af Dagene.“ „Ja, det er det samme,“ sagde Kongen, „har alle de Andre været oppe paa Slottet, saa kan han ogsaa komme ind,“ og saa maatte da Askeladden op i Kongsgaarden med. „Har du Guldæblet, du?“ spurgte Kongen. „Ja, her er det ene og her er det andet, og her er nok det tredie ogsaa,“ sagde Askeladden, han tog op af Lommen alle tre Guldæblerne; og med det samme kastede han af de sodede Fillerne og saa stod han der i Guldrustningen saa gjild, at det lyste af ham. „Ja du skal have Datter min og det halve Riget; du har vel fortjent baade hende og det,“ sagde Kongen. Saa blev der Bryllup, og saa fik

Askelad Kongsdatteren, og i det Brylluppet blev der vel turet, kan hænde, for ture kunde de Alle, om de ikke kunde ride op efter Glasbjerget, og har de ikke turet fra sig, saa holde de paa endnu.

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