Prevod

Once upon a time there was a widower who had a housekeeper named Gidske. She wanted to marry him, and never stopped pestering him to take her for his wife.

At last the man grew so tired of it that he did not know what to do to be rid of her. Now it was between haymaking and harvest, when the hemp was ripe, and they were about to pull it. Gidske was always thinking how pretty she was, and how clever and capable, and she went on pulling hemp until the strong smell made her dizzy. Down she fell and lay asleep in the hemp field. While she slept, the man came with a pair of scissors and cut off her skirt; then he smeared her first with tallow and then with soot from his pipe, until she looked worse than the Devil. When Gidske woke and saw how hideous she was, she did not recognize herself. “Can this really be me?” said Gidske. “No, it cannot be me, for I have never been so ugly as this. It must be the Devil himself.” But to find out how matters stood, she went and opened her master’s door and asked:

“Is your Gidske at home today, master?” “Yes, bless me, my Gidske is at home,” said the man, for he wanted to be rid of her. Then I cannot be his Gidske, she thought, and off she scampered, much to his delight. When she had gone some way, she came to a great forest, where she met two thieves. I shall join their company, thought Gidske. Since I am the Devil, it is only fitting that I should keep company with thieves. But the thieves thought otherwise. When they caught sight of Gidske, they took to their heels as fast as they could, for they believed the Evil One himself was after them and meant to seize them. But it did them little good, for Gidske was long-legged and light-footed, and she was upon them before they knew it.

“If you are going out stealing, I will come along and help you,” said Gidske, “for I know this district well.” When the thieves heard that, they thought she would make a fine companion, and were no longer afraid.

They were going to steal a sheep, they said, but they did not know where to find one. “Oh, that is no trouble,” said Gidske, “for I served a farmer over in the forest for a long time, and I could find his sheep house in pitch darkness.” The thieves thought that splendid, and when they got there, Gidske was to go into the sheep house and pass a sheep out for them to take. The sheep house stood right against the wall of the farmhouse where the farmer lay asleep, so Gidske went inside very quietly and carefully. But once she was well inside, she shouted out to the thieves:

“Do you want a ram or a ewe? There are plenty to choose from!” “Hush! Hush! Just take a good fat one,” said the thieves. “Yes, but do you want a ram or a ewe? Do you want a ram or a ewe? There are plenty to choose from!” shouted Gidske. “Hush, hush, will you!” said the thieves. “Just take a good fat one, and it makes no difference whether it is a ram or a ewe.” “Yes, but do you want a ram or a ewe? Do you want a ram or a ewe? There are plenty to choose from!” said Gidske, sticking to her question. “Then hold your tongue and just take a good fat one, whether it is a ram or a ewe!” said the thieves. But just then the farmer, who had been woken by the uproar, came out in his shirt to see what was happening. The thieves took to their heels, and Gidske went racing after them, knocking the farmer flat. “Wait, lads, wait!” she shouted. The farmer, who had seen nothing but the black creature, was so frightened that he scarcely dared get up again, for he thought it was the Devil himself who had been in the sheep house. He knew of only one thing to do: he went indoors, woke everyone else, and sat down to read Scripture and pray, for he had heard that the Devil could be driven away by holy words.

The next evening the thieves were going out to steal a fat goose, and Gidske was to show them the way. When they came to the goose house, Gidske was to go in and pass a bird out, for she knew the place well, while the thieves waited to take it. “Do you want a goose or a gander? There are plenty to choose from!” shouted Gidske when she got inside the goose house. “Hush! Hush! Just take a good fat one,” said the thieves. “Yes, but do you want a goose or a gander? Do you want a goose or a gander? There are plenty to choose from!” shouted Gidske. “Hush! Hush! Just take a good fat one, and it makes no difference whether it is a goose or a gander—and hold your tongue!” they said. While Gidske and the thieves were arguing over this, one of the geese began to squawk, then another, and before long they were all squawking at once. Out came the farmer to see what was happening, and away went the thieves as fast as they could, with Gidske after them at such a pace that the farmer thought she was the black Devil himself; for she had long legs, and no skirts to hamper her. “Wait a little, lads!” shouted Gidske.

“You could have had whichever you wanted, whether it was a goose or a gander!” But they did not think they had time to stop, and at the farm they had just left, young and old alike began reading Scripture and praying, for they were certain the Devil had been there.

By the evening of the third day, both the thieves and Gidske were so hungry that they did not know what to do with themselves. So they agreed to go to the storehouse of a rich farmer who lived at the edge of the forest and steal themselves something to eat. Off they went, but the thieves did not dare venture inside, so Gidske was to go into the storehouse, which stood on posts, and pass the food out, while they waited below to take it. When Gidske got inside, she found it full of everything: meat and bacon and sausages and pea bread. The thieves hushed her and begged her just to throw out some food and remember how things had gone on the two previous evenings. But Gidske would have her say:

“Do you want meat or bacon or sausages or pea bread? Look at this lovely pea bread!” she bellowed at the top of her voice. “You can have whatever you like, for there is plenty to choose from! There is plenty to choose from!” The farmer had been woken by all this bargaining, and came out to see what was happening. The thieves ran off as fast as they could. A moment later Gidske came bounding after them, black and hideous as she was.

“Wait a little, wait a little, lads!” she shouted. “You can have whatever you like, for there is plenty to choose from!” When the farmer saw the ugly creature, he too thought the Devil was abroad, for he had heard what had happened on the previous evenings. He began reading Scripture and praying, and so did everyone on every farm throughout the district, for they knew the Devil could be driven away by holy words.

On Saturday evening the thieves were going out again to steal a fat ram for their Sunday dinner, and well they might need it, for they had gone hungry for many days. But this time they would not take Gidske along; she did nothing but cause trouble with that mouth of hers, they said.

As Gidske wandered about waiting for them on Sunday morning, she grew terribly hungry. She too had eaten very little for three whole days, so she went up into a clearing planted with turnips, pulled some up, and ate them. When the farmer who owned the turnip patch got up, he felt so restless that he simply had to go out and look at his turnips that Sunday morning. So he put on his breeches and went down towards a bog below the hillside where the turnips grew.

When he got there, he saw something black moving about in the turnip patch, pulling and pulling, and he too was quick to decide that it was the Devil. He hurried home as fast as he could and said that the Devil was in the turnip patch.

There was great alarm on the farm when they heard this, and they thought the best thing was to send for the parson and have him bind the Devil. “No, it is no use,” said the farmer’s wife, “going to the parson today. It is Sunday morning, after all;

he will not come now, for he will not be up so early, and if he is, he will be going over his sermon.” “Oh, I shall promise him a fine fat joint of veal, and then he will come readily enough,” said the farmer. So off he went to the parsonage, but when he arrived, the parson was not yet up. The maid asked the farmer to go into the parlour, then went upstairs to the parson and told him that such-and-such a farmer was downstairs and wished to speak to him. When the parson heard that such a worthy man was waiting below, he got up and came straight down in his slippers and nightcap.

The farmer told him his errand and said that the Devil was loose up in his turnip patch, and if the parson would come and bind him, he would send him a fine fat joint of veal.

The parson was quite willing, and called to the boy to saddle his horse while he dressed. “No, sir, that will never do,” said the farmer, “for the Devil is not likely to stay long, and there is no knowing where to catch him again once he gets away. You had better come at once.” So the parson went with him just as he was, in his nightcap and slippers. But when they came to the bog, it was too soft for the parson to cross in his slippers. The farmer took him on his back to carry him over, stepping very carefully on a patch of firm ground here and there. When they reached the middle, Gidske caught sight of them and thought it was the thieves bringing the ram. “Is he fat? Is he fat? Is he fat?” she shrieked, till the forest rang. “Devil take me if I know whether he is fat or lean,” said the farmer when he heard her, “but if you want to know, you will have to come and feel for yourself.” Then he grew so frightened that he flung the parson into the middle of the bog and took to his heels; and if the parson has not got up, he is lying there still.