Prevod

Once upon a time there was a king, though where he ruled and what his name was I can no longer remember. He had no son, only a single daughter, who was always ill, and no doctor could cure her. Then it was foretold to the king that his daughter would be restored to health by eating apples. So he had it proclaimed throughout his kingdom that whoever brought his daughter apples that would make her well could have her for his wife and become king into the bargain. Now a farmer who had three sons heard this too. He said to the eldest, “Go up to the loft, take a basketful of the finest rosy-cheeked apples, and carry them to the royal court. Perhaps the princess will eat them and get well, and then you may marry her and become king.” The son did as he was told and set off. After he had been walking for some time, he met a little ice-gray man, who asked him what he had in his basket. Ulrich—for that was his name—answered, “Frogs’ legs.” The little man said, “Then frogs’ legs they shall be, and frogs’ legs they shall remain,” and went on his way. At last Ulrich reached the palace and asked to be announced, saying he had apples that would make the princess well if she ate them. The king was delighted and had Ulrich brought before him. But—alas!—when he uncovered the basket, there were frogs’ legs in it instead of apples, still twitching. This made the king very angry, and he had him driven out of the palace. When Ulrich reached home, he told his father what had happened. The father then sent his next eldest son, whose name was Samuel, but he fared just as Ulrich had. He too met the little man, who asked what he was carrying in his basket. Samuel said, “Pigs’ bristles,” and the little ice-gray man said, “Then pigs’ bristles they shall be, and pigs’ bristles they shall remain.” When Samuel reached the royal palace and said he had apples that would restore the princess to health, the guards would not let him in, saying that someone had already come and made fools of them. But Samuel solemnly insisted that he really did have apples, and they need only let him in. At last they believed him and took him before the king. But when he uncovered his basket, he had nothing in it but pigs’ bristles. At this the king flew into such a rage that he had Samuel whipped out of the palace. When he got home, he told them what had happened.

Then the youngest boy, who was known only as Simple Hans, came and asked his father whether he might take some apples too. “Yes,” said his father, “you would be just the fellow for it! If the clever ones can do nothing, what do you expect to do?” But the boy would not give up. “Yes, Father, I want to go too.” “Oh, get away with you, you simpleton! You must wait until you grow wiser,” said his father, turning his back on him. But Hans tugged at the back of his coat. “Father, I want to go too!” “Well, go then, for all I care! You’ll come back soon enough,” his father answered grumpily. But the boy was so delighted that he leaped into the air. “Now don’t go acting the fool! You grow more stupid every day,” his father said again. But Hans did not mind, and would not let anything spoil his happiness. As night was already drawing on, however, he thought he would wait until morning, since he could no longer reach the court that day. That night he could not sleep, and whenever he did doze off, he dreamed of beautiful maidens, castles, gold and silver, and all manner of such things. Early in the morning he set off, and before long he met a surly little man in an ice-gray coat, who asked what he had in his basket. Hans answered that he had apples for the princess to eat and grow well again. “Then,” said the little man, “such apples they shall be, and such apples they shall remain.”

But at court they would not let Hans in at all, for two others had already come saying they were bringing apples, and one had brought frogs’ legs and the other pigs’ bristles. Hans would not give up, however, and said that he certainly had no frogs’ legs, but the finest apples that grew in the whole kingdom. Hearing him speak so frankly, the gatekeeper thought he could not be lying and let him in. And he had done right, for when Hans uncovered his basket before the king, there lay golden-yellow apples inside. The king was delighted and at once had some taken to his daughter, then waited anxiously for word of what effect they had had. Before long, someone came to tell him—but who was it? His daughter herself! The moment she had eaten some of the apples, she had sprung from her bed in perfect health. The king’s joy was beyond description. But now he did not want to give Hans his daughter in marriage, and said he must first build a boat that would travel even better on dry land than on water. Hans agreed to the condition, went home, and told them what had happened. So his father sent Ulrich into the woods to build such a boat. He worked hard, whistling as he went. At noon, when the sun was at its highest, a little ice-gray man came along and asked what he was making. Ulrich answered, “A washtub.” The little ice-gray man said, “Then washtubs they shall be, and washtubs they shall remain.” That evening Ulrich thought he had finished a boat, but when he tried to sit down in it, there was nothing but washtubs. The next day Samuel went into the woods, but he fared just as Ulrich had. On the third day Simple Hans went. He worked so hard that the whole forest rang with his blows, and he whistled and sang merrily as he worked. At noon, when the heat was greatest, the little ice-gray man came again and asked what he was making. “A boat that travels better on dry land than on water,” he said, and when it was finished he would have the princess for his wife. “Then,” said the little man, “such a boat it shall be, and such a boat it shall remain.” That evening, when the sun had set in a golden glow, Hans had finished his boat, complete with everything it needed. He sat down in it and rowed toward the king’s palace, and the boat sped along like the wind. The king saw it from afar, but still would not give Hans his daughter, and said he must first tend a hundred hares from early morning until late evening; if even one ran away, he would not have the princess. Hans agreed, and the very next day he took his herd out to pasture and watched carefully to make sure none escaped. Before long a maid came from the palace and told Hans to give her a hare at once, for unexpected guests had arrived. But Hans saw plainly enough what was afoot and said he would not give up a single one; the king could serve his guests jugged hare tomorrow. The maid would not be satisfied with this, and in the end she even began to scold him. Then Hans said that if the princess came herself, he would give her a hare. The maid reported this at the palace, and the princess went herself. Meanwhile, the little ice-gray man came to Hans again and asked what he was doing. “Well,” said Hans, “I have to tend a hundred hares without letting a single one run away, and then I may marry the princess and become king.” “Good,” said the little man. “Here is a little whistle. If one runs away, just blow it, and back it will come.” When the princess arrived, Hans put a hare into her apron. But when she was a hundred paces away, he took out the whistle and blew it, and the hare sprang out of her apron and, before you could blink, was back with the herd. When evening came, the keeper of the hares blew his whistle once more and made sure they were all there, then drove them to the palace. The king was astonished that Hans had managed to tend a hundred hares without losing a single one. Still he would not give him his daughter, but said he must first bring him a feather from the Griffin’s tail. So Hans set out and marched briskly on. That evening he came to a castle and asked for a night’s lodging, for in those days there were no inns. The lord of the castle welcomed him gladly and asked where he was bound. Hans answered, “To the Griffin.” “Oh, to the Griffin? Hmm, they always say he knows everything, and I have lost the key to my iron money chest. Would you be so kind as to ask him where it is?” “Why, certainly,” said Hans. “I will gladly do that.” Early the next morning he went on his way, and came to another castle, where he again stayed the night. When the people there heard that he was going to the Griffin, they told him that a daughter of the household was ill. They had tried every remedy, but none had helped. Would he be so kind as to ask the Griffin what could make her well again? Hans said he would gladly do so, and went on. Then he came to a river, where, instead of a ferry, there was an enormous man who had to carry everyone across. The man asked Hans where he was going. “To the Griffin,” said Hans. “Well, when you get there,” said the man, “ask him why I have to carry everyone across the water.” “Yes, good heavens, of course I will,” said Hans. Then the man took him on his shoulder and carried him across. At last Hans reached the Griffin’s house, but only his wife was at home, not the Griffin himself. She asked him what he wanted. Hans told her everything: that he had to fetch a feather from the Griffin’s tail; that at one castle they had lost the key to their money chest, and he was to ask the Griffin where it was; that at another castle a daughter was ill, and he was to find out what would make the girl well again; and that not far from there was a river with a man who had to carry people across, and he too wanted to know why he had to carry everyone over. Then the wife said, “Now look here, my good friend, no Christian can speak to the Griffin, for he eats them all. But if you like, you may lie under his bed, and tonight, when he is fast asleep, you can reach up and pull a feather from his tail. As for the things you want to know, I will ask him myself.”

Hans was content with this and lay down under the bed. In the evening the Griffin came home. As he entered the room, he said, “Wife, I smell a Christian! There is human flesh in the air!” “Yes,” said his wife, “someone was here today, but he has gone away again.” At that the Griffin said no more. In the middle of the night, when the Griffin was snoring soundly, Hans reached up and pulled a feather from his tail. The Griffin started up at once and said, “Wife, I smell a human being, and I feel as though someone has tugged at my tail!” His wife said, “You must have been dreaming. I told you earlier that a man was here, but he has gone away again. He did tell me all sorts of things, though. At one castle they have lost the key to their money chest and cannot find it anywhere.” “Oh, the fools,” said the Griffin. “The key is in the woodshed, behind the door, under a pile of wood.” “And he also said that at another castle a daughter is ill, and they know of no remedy that will make her well.” “Oh, the fools,” said the Griffin. “Under the cellar stairs a toad has made a nest out of her hair. If she gets her hair back, she will be well again.” “And he also said that in one place there is a river, and a man there who has to carry everyone across.” “Oh, the fool,” said the Griffin. “If he would only set someone down in the middle of it just once, he would never have to carry anyone across again.”

Early the next morning the Griffin got up and went away. Then Hans crept out from under the bed with a fine feather. He had also heard what the Griffin had said about the key, the daughter, and the man. The Griffin’s wife repeated it all to him so that he would forget nothing, and then he set off for home. First he came to the man at the river, who immediately asked what the Griffin had said. Hans told him to carry him across first, and he would tell him on the other bank. So the man carried him over. Once he was across, Hans told him that he need only set someone down in the middle of the river, and he would never have to carry anyone over again. The man at the river was delighted and told Hans that, to thank him, he would carry him across and back once more. Hans said he would spare him the trouble; he was quite satisfied already, and went on his way. Then he came to the castle where the daughter was ill. He took her on his shoulders, for she could not walk, carried her down the cellar stairs, took the toad’s nest from beneath the bottom step, and placed it in her hands. At once she sprang down from his shoulder and ran up the stairs, completely well again. Her father and mother were overjoyed and gave Hans gold and silver; whatever he wished for, they gave him. When Hans came to the other castle, he went straight to the woodshed, and sure enough, behind the door under a pile of wood he found the key, which he took at once to the lord of the castle. The lord was delighted and rewarded Hans with a great deal of the gold in the chest, as well as all sorts of other things, such as cows, sheep, and goats.

When Hans came to the king with all his possessions—with his money, gold and silver, and his cows, sheep, and goats—the king asked where he had got it all. Hans said that the Griffin would give a person as much as he wanted. The king thought he could do with some of that himself, and set off to see the Griffin. When he came to the river, he was the first to arrive since Hans, and the man set him down in the middle of the water and walked away. And the king drowned. But Hans married the princess and became king.