Vdovin sin | Waltey

Prevod

Once upon a time there was a poor, poor widow who had only one son. She toiled to support the boy until he had been confirmed, but then she told him she could no longer feed him;

he must go out into service and earn his bread. So the boy set off into the world, and when he had walked for a day or so, he met a stranger. “Where are you going?” the man asked.

“I’m going out into the world to try to find a place in service,” said the boy. “Will you serve me?” “Oh yes, as gladly as anyone else,” the boy replied. “Well, you shall have a good life with me,” said the man. “You need only keep me company, and do nothing else.” So the boy went with him, and lived well, with plenty to eat and drink and little or nothing to do; but he never saw another soul at the man’s house.

One day the man said to him, “Now I am going away for eight days. You must stay here alone while I am gone, but you must not enter any of these four rooms! If you do, I shall take your life when I return.” No, said the boy, he certainly would not. But when the man had been away for three or four days, the boy could restrain himself no longer, and went into one of the rooms. He looked all around, but saw nothing except a shelf above the door, with a briar whip lying on it. What a thing to forbid me so strictly to look at! thought the boy. When six days had passed, the man came home again. “You haven’t been into any of the rooms, I trust?” he said. “No, indeed I haven’t,” said the boy. “Well, I shall soon see,” and with that he went into the room the boy had entered. “You have been in here after all,” he said, “and now you must lose your life.” The boy wept and begged for mercy, and so his life was spared; but he got a sound beating. Once that was over, they were just as good friends as before.

Some time later the man went away again; this time he meant to be gone for a fortnight, but first he once more forbade the boy to enter any of the rooms he had not already been in. The one he had entered, however, he was welcome to visit again.

Well, things went just as they had before, except that this time the boy kept out for eight days. In this room, too, he saw nothing but a shelf above the door, with a boulder and a water jug on it. What a thing to make such a fuss about! the boy thought again. When the man came home, he asked whether he had been into any of the rooms;

no, certainly not—the boy had never been near them. “Well, I shall soon see,” said the man, and when he saw that the boy had been in after all, he said, “Now I shall spare you no longer!

Now you must lose your life!” But the boy wept and begged for mercy again, and once more he escaped with a beating, though this time he got as much as he could bear. Yet when he was well again, he lived just as comfortably as before, and he and the man were just as good friends. Some time later the man had to go away again, and now he meant to be gone for three weeks. Once more he forbade the boy to enter the third room; if he went in there, he might as well prepare to lose his life on the spot.

After a fortnight the boy could restrain himself no longer, and stole inside; but he saw nothing there except a trapdoor in the floor. When he lifted it and looked down, there stood a great copper cauldron, bubbling and boiling below, though he could see no fire beneath it. It would be fun to find out whether it is hot, thought the boy, and dipped his finger in. When he drew it out again, it was gilded all over. The boy scraped and washed it, but the gold would not come off; so he wrapped a rag around it, and when the man came home and asked what was wrong with his finger, the boy said he had cut it badly. But the man tore off the rag, and then he could see well enough what was wrong with the finger.

At first he meant to kill him, but when the boy wept and pleaded again, he only beat him, so that he lay in bed for three days. Then he took a jar down from the wall and rubbed him with the ointment inside, and the boy was quite well again.

After a while the man went away once more, and was not to return for a month. But this time he told the boy that if he entered the fourth room, he must not dream of being allowed to live. For two or three weeks the boy held out, but then he could restrain himself no longer: into the room he must and would go, and so he slipped inside. There stood a great black horse tethered in a stall, with a trough of glowing coals at its head and a basket of hay at its tail. The boy thought this was a strange arrangement, and switched them round, putting the hay basket by its head. Then the horse said, “Since you are kind-hearted enough to give me food, I shall save you. If the troll comes home now and finds you, he will kill you. But you must go up to the room just above this one and take a suit of armour from among those hanging there. Be sure not to take any of the bright ones; take the rustiest one you can find, and choose a sword and saddle in the same way.” The boy did so, but it was hard for him to carry it all.

When he returned, the horse told him to strip naked and climb into the cauldron that stood boiling in the other room, and bathe himself thoroughly. I shall look a fright after that, thought the boy, but he did it all the same. When he had bathed, he grew handsome and well-rounded, with a complexion as red and white as milk and blood, and far stronger than before. “Do you feel any different?” asked the horse. “Yes!” said the boy. “Try lifting me,” said the horse. Oh yes, he could do that, and he swung the sword as though it weighed nothing at all. “Now put the saddle on me,” said the horse, “and put on your armour. Then bring the briar whip, the stone, the water flask, and the jar of ointment, and we shall be off.”

No sooner had the boy mounted than away they went, so fast he could not tell how they travelled. They had ridden for a while when the horse said, “I think I hear a rumbling.

Look behind you! Can you see anything?” “There are many, many coming after us—a score at least!” said the boy. “Yes, that is the troll,” said the horse. “Now he is coming with his people.”

They rode on a while longer, until their pursuers began to draw near. “Now throw the briar whip back over your shoulder,” said the horse, “but be sure to throw it well clear of me!” The boy did so, and at once a vast, dense forest of briars sprang up behind them.

Then the boy rode on a long, long way, while the troll had to go home for something to cut his way through the forest. But after a while the horse said again, “Look behind you! Can you see anything now?” “Yes, a whole crowd,” said the boy, “as many as a great congregation coming out of church.” “Yes, that is the troll; now he has brought more of his people. Throw out the boulder, but be sure to throw it well clear of me!”

The moment the boy did as the horse had told him, a great black mountain of rock rose behind him. Then the troll had to go home for something to blast his way through the mountain, and while he was doing that, the boy rode a good way farther.

But then the horse told him to look behind him again, and now he saw a host like an entire army; they were so bright that they gleamed. “Yes,” said the horse, “that is the troll; now he has all his people with him. Empty the water flask behind you, but take great care not to spill any on me!” The boy did so, but somehow or other he spilled a drop on the horse’s haunches. At once a vast, vast lake appeared, and because of the drops he had spilled, the horse found itself far out in the water;

all the same, it managed to swim ashore. When the trolls reached the lake, they lay down to drink it dry, and gulped and gulped until they burst. “Now we are rid of them,” said the horse.

When they had travelled for a long, long time, they came to a green clearing in a forest. “Now take off all your armour and put on only your ragged clothes,” said the horse. “Then take the saddle off me and let me go, and hang everything inside this great hollow lime tree. After that, make yourself a wig of lichen from the spruce trees, and go up to the king’s palace, which is close by, and ask for work. Whenever you need me, just come here and shake the bridle, and I shall come to you.” Well, the boy did as the horse had told him, and when he put on the lichen wig, he looked so wretched and pale and miserable that no one could have recognized him. He came to the palace and first asked to work in the kitchen, carrying water and firewood for the cook, but the kitchen maid asked, “Why are you wearing that ugly wig? Take it off! I won’t have anyone so ugly in here!” “I can’t,” the boy replied. “My head isn’t quite clean.” “Do you think I’ll have you near the food, then, if that’s how you are?” said the cook. “Go down to the stable master; mucking out the stables is more your sort of work.” But when the stable master told him to take off his wig, he got the same answer, and he would not have him either. “You can go to the gardener,” he said. “Digging in the earth is more your sort of work!” The gardener did allow him to stay, but none of the other servants would share a bed with him, so he had to sleep by himself beneath the steps of the summerhouse, which stood on posts and had a high flight of steps.

He was given some moss for a bed beneath them, and there he slept as best he could. When he had been at the palace for some time, it happened one morning, just as the sun was rising, that the boy had taken off his lichen wig and stood washing himself; and then he was so handsome that it was a delight to see him.

The princess saw the handsome gardener’s boy from her window, and thought she had never seen anyone so beautiful. So she asked the gardener why he slept outside beneath the steps. “Oh, none of the other servants will share a bed with him,” said the gardener. “Let him come up tonight and sleep by the door inside my chamber, and then surely they will no longer refuse to let him sleep under the same roof as themselves,” said the princess. The gardener told the boy. “Do you think I’ll do that?” said the boy. “Then they would say there was something between me and the princess.” “Yes, you certainly have reason to fear such suspicions,” replied the gardener, “handsome fellow that you are!” “Well, well, if you order me to, I suppose I must,” said the boy. When he went up the stairs that evening, he stamped and clattered so loudly that they had to ask him to walk quietly, lest the king should hear of it. He went in and lay down, and at once began snoring in his sleep. The princess immediately said to her maid, “Now creep over and take off his lichen wig!” The maid did so, but just as she was about to snatch it away, he held it fast with both hands and said she should certainly not have it. Then he settled down and began snoring again. The princess gave the maid another sign, and this time she managed to snatch off the wig;

and there lay the boy, as beautiful and rosy-white as the princess had seen him in the morning sunshine. After that, the boy slept every night in the princess’s chamber.

But before long the king heard that the gardener’s boy slept in the princess’s chamber every night, and he grew so angry that he very nearly had the boy put to death. He did not do that, however, but threw him into the prison tower, and shut his own daughter up in her chamber, never allowing her to come out, by day or by night. For all her weeping and pleading, both for herself and for the boy, it did no good; it only made the king still angrier.

Some time later, war and unrest broke out in the land, and the king had to take up arms against another king who meant to seize his kingdom. When the boy heard of this, he asked the jailer to go to the king on his behalf and beg for armour and a sword, and permission to join the war. Everyone else laughed when the jailer delivered his message, and asked the king to let the boy have some old scrap for armour, so that they might enjoy the sight of the poor wretch going to war. He was given this, along with a miserable old nag that hobbled on three legs and dragged the fourth behind it.

Then they set out against the enemy, but they had not gone far from the palace before the boy and his nag were stuck fast in a bog. There he sat, bobbing and jolting;

“Come on, get up! Come on, get up!” he said to the nag. All the others found this very amusing, and laughed and mocked the boy as they rode past. But no sooner were they gone than he ran to the lime tree, put on his armour, and shook the bridle; at once the horse appeared and said, “Do your best, and I shall do mine!” When the boy caught up with them, the battle had already begun, and the king was in desperate straits; but in next to no time the boy had put the enemy to flight. The king and his men wondered greatly who could have come to their aid, but no one got near enough to speak to him, and when the battle was over, he was gone. When they rode back, the boy was still sitting in the bog, bobbing and jolting on his three-legged nag. Then they laughed again. “Why, just look—there’s that fool sitting there still!” they said.

The second day they rode out, the boy was still sitting there; again they laughed and mocked him. But no sooner had they ridden past than the boy ran to the lime tree once more, and everything went just as it had the day before. Everyone wondered who the strange champion could be who had helped them, but no one got close enough to speak to him; and of course no one ever thought of the boy.

When they rode home that evening and saw the boy still sitting on the nag, they laughed at him again, and one of them shot an arrow at him and struck him in the leg. He began to scream and lament so terribly that the king tossed him his handkerchief to bind round the wound.

When they rode out on the third morning, the boy was once more sitting in the bog. “Come on, get up! Come on, get up!” he said to the nag. “Well, well! He’ll sit there till he starves to death,” said the king’s men as they rode past, and they laughed so hard they nearly fell off their horses. Once they were gone, he ran to the lime tree again and reached the battle just at the critical moment. That day he killed the enemy king, and with that the war was over.

When the battle had ended, the king caught sight of his handkerchief, which the strange champion had tied round his leg, and then he had no difficulty recognizing him. With great rejoicing they took him back to the palace in their midst, and the princess, who saw him from her window, was happier than anyone could imagine. “There comes my sweetheart too!” she said. Then he took the jar of ointment and rubbed some on his own leg, and afterwards on all the wounded, and every one of them was healed in an instant. So he was to marry the princess; but when he went down to the stable to see the horse on the wedding day, it stood there looking so mournful, with drooping ears, and would not eat at all;

and when the young king—for by then he had become king and been given half the kingdom—spoke to it and asked what was wrong, the horse said, “Now I have helped you on your way, and I no longer wish to live. You must take your sword and cut off my head!” “No, I certainly will not,” said the young king. “You shall have whatever you want, and never have to work again!” “Well, if you do not do as I say, I shall find a way to take your life!” said the horse. So the king had to do it, but as he raised his sword to strike, he was so sorrowful that he had to turn his face away, for he could not bear to watch the blow. Yet no sooner had he cut off the head than the most handsome prince stood where the horse had been. “Where in the world did you come from?” asked the king.

“I was the horse,” replied the prince. “Once I was king of the country ruled by the king you killed in battle yesterday. It was he who enchanted me into that shape and sold me to the troll. Now that he is dead, I shall have my kingdom back, and you and I shall be neighbouring kings; but we shall certainly never make war on one another.” And indeed they never did; they were friends as long as they lived, and often went to visit one another.

Izvirnik

Der var engang en fattig, fattig Enke, som kun havde een Søn. Hun trællede med Gutten, til han havde gaaet til Præsten, men saa sagde hun til ham, at nu kunde hun ikke føde ham længer; han fik ud at tjene for sit Brød. Gutten vandrede da ud i Verden, og da han havde gaaet en Dags Tid eller saa, mødte han en fremmed Mand. „Hvor skal du hen?“ spurgte Manden. „Jeg skal ud i Verden at prøve at faae mig Tjeneste,“ sagde Gutten. „Vil du tjene hos mig?“ „Aa ja, lige saa gjerne hos dig, som hos en Anden,“ svarede Gutten. „Ja du skal have det godt hos mig,“ sagde Manden. „Du skal bare holde mig med Selskap og ikke gjøre nogen Ting forresten.“ Saa blev Gutten med ham, og levde vel med Mad og Drikke og havde

Lidet eller Intet at bestille; men han saa heller aldrig et Menneske hos Manden. En Dag saa sagde Manden til ham: „Nu reiser jeg bort i otte Dage; i den Tid faaer du være her alene, men du maa ikke gaae ind i noget af disse fire Værelserne her! Gjør du det, saa tager jeg Livet af dig, naar jeg kommer igjen.“ Nei, sagde Gutten, det skulde han nok ikke. Men da Manden havde været borte en tre, fire Dage, kunde Gutten ikke bare sig længer, men gik ind i det ene Kammer. Han saa sig rundt om, men saa ingen Ting, uden en Hylde over Døren, hvor der laa en Nypetornpidsk. Dette var rigtig Noget at forbyde mig saa strængt at see ogsaa det, tænkte Gutten. Da de sex Dage vare

omme, kom Manden hjem igjen; „du har vel ikke været inde i noget af Kamrene?“ sagde han. „Nei, det har jeg slet ikke,“ sagde Gutten. „Ja, det skal jeg snart see,“ og dermed gik han ind i det, som Gutten havde været i. „Jo du har været der alligevel,“ sagde han, „og nu skal du miste Livet.“ Gutten græd og bad for sig, og saa slap han da med Livet; men dygtig Hug fik han. Da det var overstaaet, vare de lige gode Venner igjen.

En Tid derefter reiste Manden atter bort; da vilde han være borte i fjorten Dage, men først forbød han igjen Gutten at gaae ind i noget af de Kamre, han ikke alt havde været i; for det han havde været i, kunde han gjerne gaae ind i paany. Ja, det gik lige eens som forrige Gang; bare at Gutten nu holdt sig fra at gaae derind i otte Dage. I det Kammer saa han heller ikke Andet end en Hylde over Døren, med en Kampesteen og en Vandkrukke paa. Det var rigtig Noget at være saa ræd for ogsaa, tænkte Gutten igjen. Da Manden kom hjem, spurgte han om han havde været i noget af Kamrene; nei, var det ligt det, der havde Gutten ikke været. „Ja det skal jeg snart see,“ sagde Manden, og da han saa, han havde været der alligevel, sagde han: „Ja, nu sparer jeg dig ikke længer!

nu skal du miste Livet!“ men Gutten græd og bad for sig igjen, og saa slap han atter med Prygl, men det fik han da ogsaa saa meget, der kunde ligge paa ham. Men da han blev frisk igjen, levede han lige saa godt som før, og han og Manden vare lige gode Venner. En Tid derefter skulde Manden igjen reise og nu vilde han være borte i tre Uger, og saa forbød han Gutten paany at gaae ind i det tredie Kammer; hvis han gik der ind, kunde han ligesaa godt belave sig paa at miste Livet med det samme.

Om fjorten Dage kunde Gutten ikke bare sig, han listede sig ind; men han saa slet ikke Noget derinde, uden en Lem paa Gulvet. Da han løftede paa den og saa ned igjennem, stod der en stor Kobberkjedel og puttrede og kogte dernede; men han saa ingen Ild under. Det var artigt at kjende om det er varmt, tænkte Gutten og stak Fingeren nedi; da han tog den op igjen, var den forgyldt over det Hele. Gutten skrabede og vaskede den, men Forgyldingen vilde ikke gaae af; saa bandt han en Fille om, og da Manden kom hjem og spurgte, hvad der feilede Fingeren hans, sagde Gutten, han havde skaaret sig saa stygt. Men Manden rev af Fillen og da saa saa han nok hvad der feilede Fingeren.

Først vilde han dræbt ham, men da han græd og bad igjen, bankede han ham bare, saa han laa tilsengs i tre Dage. Derpaa tog han en Krukke ned af Væggen og smurte ham med, saa blev Gutten lige frisk igjen. Om en Stund reiste Manden igjen bort, og skulde ikke komme igjen før om en Maaned. Men da sagde han til Gutten, at hvis han gik ind i det fjerde Kammer, saa maatte han aldrig tænke paa at faae beholde Liv. En to eller tre Uger holdt Gutten sig, men saa kunde han ikke bare sig igjen, han maatte og skulde ind i Kammeret, og saa smat han ind. Der stod en stor, sort Hest paa et Spiltoug, med et Glødtraug ved Hovedet og en Høkurv ved Halen. Gutten syntes, dette var uligt,

han byttede om og satte Høkurven ved Hovedet. Saa sagde Hesten: „Siden du har saa godt Hjertelag, at du vil lade mig faae Mad, skal jeg frelse dig, jeg. Kommer Troldet nu hjem og finder dig, saa dræber han dig. Men nu skal du gaae op paa det Kammer, som er her lige over, og tage en Rustning af dem, som hænge der; og saa maa du endelig ikke tage nogen af de blanke, men den mest rustne du seer, den skal du tage; og Sværd og Saddel skal du søge dig ud paa samme Viis.“ Det gjorde Gutten; men det var tungt for ham at bære det Altsammen.

Da han kom tilbage, sagde Hesten, at nu skulde han klæde sig nøgen og gaae ned i Kjedlen, som stod og kogte i det andet Kammer, og lauge sig vel der. Jeg bliver vel fæl da, tænkte Gutten, men han gjorde det alligevel. Da han havde lauget sig, blev han saa vakker og trind, og saa rød og hvid som Melk og Blod, og meget stærkere end før. „Kjender du nogen Forandring?“ spurgte Hesten. „Ja!“ sagde Gutten. „Prøv at løfte mig,“ sagde Hesten; aa ja, det kunde han, og Sværdet svang han ogsaa som Ingenting. „Ja læg nu Sadlen paa mig,“ sagde Hesten, „og tag Rustningen paa dig, tag saa med Nypetornpidsken og Stenen og Vandflasken og Smurningskrukken, saa reise vi."

Da Gutten vel var kommen op paa Hesten, gik det afsted, saa han ikke vidste, hvorledes de kom frem. Han havde nu redet en Stund, da sagde Hesten: „Jeg synes, jeg hører en Duur. Se dig om! kan du see Noget?“ „Der kommer Mange, Mange efter os, vist et Snees!“ sagde Gutten. „Ja, det er Troldet, det,“ sagde Hesten, „nu kommer han med Sine." De red endda en Stund, indtil de, som kom efter begyndte at nærme sig. „Kast nu Tornepidsken bag over Axlen din,“ sagde Hesten, „men kast den vel langt fra mig!“ Det gjorde Gutten, og i det samme voxte der op en svær, tyk Nypetornskov der.

Saa red Gutten igjen et langt, langt Stykke, medens Troldet matte hjem efter Noget at hugge sig gjennem Skoven med. Men om en Stund sagde Hesten igjen: „Se tilbage! kan du see Noget nu?“ „Ja en heel Mængde,“ sagde Gutten, „som en stor Kirkealmue.“ „Ja det er Troldet, det; nu har han flere med sig. Kast nu ud Kampestenen, men kast den vel langt fra mig!" Med det samme Gutten gjorde, som Hesten havde sagt, blev der et stort, sort Kampebjerg bag ham. Saa maatte Troldet hjem efter Noget at minere sig gjennem Bjerget med, og medens Troldet gjorde det, red Gutten igjen et godt Stykke frem.

Men saa bad Hesten ham igjen see sig tilbage, og da saa han en Flok som en heel Krigshær; de vare saa blanke at det skinnede af dem. „Ja,“ sagde Hesten, „det er Troldet; nu har han alle Sine med sig. Slaa nu Vandflasken ud bag dig, men vogt dig vel, at du ikke spilder Noget paa mig!“ Det gjorde Gutten, men hvorledes han bar sig ad, kom han til at spilde en Draabe paa Lænden. Saa blev der et stort, stort Vand, og ved de Draaber han spildte, kom Hesten til at staae langt udi Vandet; alligevel svømmede den dog til Lands. Da Troldene kom til Vandet, lagde de sig ned for at drikke det tomt, og saa slurkede de i sig, til de sprak. „Nu er vi kvit dem,“ sagde Hesten.

Da de nu havde reist i lang, lang Tid, kom de paa en grøn Slette i en Skov. „Klæd nu af dig hele Rustningen og tag blot dine fillede Klæder paa,“ sagde Hesten, „tag saa Sadlen af mig og slip mig, og hæng Alt inde i den store, indhule Lind her! Saa skal du gjøre dig en Paryk af Granlav og gaae op til Kongsgaarden, som ligger her tæt ved; der skal du bede om Tjeneste. Naar du saa behøver mig, saa gaa bare hid, og ryst paa Bidslet, saa skal jeg komme til dig.“ Ja, Gutten gjorde som Hesten havde sagt, og da han fik Lavparykken paa, blev han saa ussel og bleg og elendig at see paa, at ingen kunde kjende ham igjen. Han kom da til Kongsgaarden, og bad først om at faae være i Kjøkkenet og bære

Vand og Ved til Kokken, men saa spurgte Kokkegjenten: „Hvorfor har du den stygge Parykken? Tag den af dig! jeg vil ikke vide af Nogen saa styg her inde!“ „Det kan jeg ikke,“ svarede Gutten, „jeg er ikke rigtig reen i Hovedet.“ „Tænker du, jeg vil have dig her ved Maden, naar du er slig da?“ sagde Kokken, „gaa ned til Staldmesteren, du passer bedst til at gaae og maage i Stalden.“ Men da Staldmesteren bad ham tage Parykken af, fik han det samme Svar, og saa vilde ikke han heller have ham; „du kan gaae til Gartneren,“ sagde han, „du passer bedst til at gaae og grave i Jorden!“ Hos Gartneren fik han da Lov at blive; men Ingen af de andre Tjenere vilde ligge med ham, derfor maatte han sove for sig selv under Trappen til Lysthuset; det stod paa Stolper og havde en høi Trap.

Under den fik han en Deel Mose til Seng, og der laa han saa godt han kunde. Da han nu havde været paa Kongsgaarden en Tid, hendte det sig en Morgen, i det samme Solen randt, at Gutten havde taget af sin Lavparykken og stod og vaskede sig; og da var han saa vakker, at det var en Lyst at see ham. Prindsessen saa fra Vinduet den vakre Gartnergut og syntes, hun aldrig havde seet Nogen saa smuk. Hun spurgte da Gartneren hvorfor han laa ude, under Trappen. „Aa, ingen af Medtjenerne vil ligge med ham,“ sagde Gartneren. „Lad ham i Aften komme op og ligge ved Døren inde paa mit Kammer, saa skal de vel ikke undslaae sig for at lade ham ligge i Huus

med sig siden,“ sagde Prindsessen. Gartneren sagde det til Gutten. „Mener du jeg vil gjøre det?“ sagde Gutten; „saa vilde de sige, at der var Noget mellem mig og Prindsessen.“ „Ja, du har nok Grund til at frygte for slig Mistanke, du,“ svarede Gartneren; „du som er saa vakker!“ „Ja, ja, naar I befaler det, saa faaer jeg vel gjøre det,“ sagde Gutten. Da han nu skulde opefter Trapperne om Aftenen, trampede og slampede han saa i Veien at de maatte bede ham gaae sagte, for at ikke Kongen skulde faae det at vide. Han kom ind og lagde sig, og begyndte strax at snorkesove. Strax sagde Prindsessen til Ternen sin: „List dig nu bort, og tag af ham Lavparykken!“ og det gjorde hun; men i det samme, hun vilde nappe den, holdt han paa den med begge Hænder, og sagde at den fik hun

slet ikke. Dermed lagde han sig igjen til at snorke. Prindsessen gav igjen Ternen et Vink, og saa fik hun nappet Parykken af; da laa Gutten der saa deilig og rød og hvid, som Prindsessen havde seet ham i Morgensolen. Siden laa Gutten hver Nat oppe i Prindsessens Værelse. Men det varede ikke længe, førend Kongen fik spurgt, at Gartnergutten laa i Prindsessens Kammer hver Nat, og saa blev han saa vred at han nær havde ladet Gutten aflive. Det gjorde han dog ikke, men kastede ham i Fangetaarnet, og sin egen Datter spærrede han inde i hendes Kammer, saa hun aldrig fik Lov at komme ud, hverken Dag eller Nat. Alt hun græd og bad baade for sig og Gutten, saa hjalp det ikke; Kongen

blev blot endnu mere vred derover. En Tid efter blev der Krig og Ufred i Landet og Kongen maatte ruste sig mod en anden Konge, som vilde tage Riget fra ham. Da Gutten hørte det, bad han Fangevogteren gaae til Kongen for sig og bede om Harnisk og Sværd og Lov at være med i Krigen. Alle de Øvrige loe, da Fangevogteren sagde sit Ærende, og bad Kongen at han maatte faae noget gammelt Skrammel til Rustning, saa de kunde faae den Moro at see den Stakkelen være med i Krigen. Det fik han og dertil et gammelt, usselt Øg, som hoppede paa tre Been, det fjerde drog det efter sig.

Saa drog de da ud mod Fienden, men de vare ikke komne langt bort fra Kongsgaarden, førend Gutten blev siddende fast i en Myr med Øget sit. Der sad han og hakkede og nikkede; „hei, vil du op! hei, vil du op!“ sagde han til Øget. Det havde alle de Andre rigtig sin Moro af og loe og gjorde Nar af Gutten, medens de rede forbi. Men aldrig før vare de borte, saa løb han til Linden, tog paa sig Rustningen og rystede paa Bidslet; og strax kom Hesten og sagde: „Gjør du dit Bedste, saa skal jeg gjøre mit!“ Da Gutten kom efter, var Slaget alt begyndt og Kongen var i en slem Knibe; men allerbedst det var, havde Gutten slaaet Fienden paa Flugten. Kongen og hans Folk undrede sig meget over, hvem det kunde være, der

kom og hjalp dem, men Ingen kom ham saa nær, at han fik talt til ham, og da Slaget var forbi, var han borte. Da de drog tilbage, sad Gutten endda i Myren og hakkede og nikkede paa det trebenede Øg. Da loe de igjen. „Nei see bare, der sidder den Narren endnu!“ sagde de. Den anden Dag de drog ud, sad Gutten der endda; de loe igjen og gjorde Nar af ham; men aldrig før vare de redne forbi, saa løb Gutten atter til Linden og Alt gik igjen som den forrige Dag. Alle undrede sig over, hvad det var for en fremmed Kjæmpe som havde hjulpet dem, men Ingen kom han saa nær, at han kunde faae talt til ham; og der var nu Ingen, som gjættede paa Gutten, det forstaaer sig.

Da de drog hjem om Aftenen og saae Gutten endnu sidde paa Øget, loe de ham ud igjen, og En skjød en Piil paa ham og traf ham i Benet. Han til at skrige og jamre sig, saa det var forfærdeligt; saa kastede Kongen Lommetørklædet sit til ham, at han skulde knytte det om. Da de drog ud den tredie Morgen, sad Gutten igjen i Myren. „Hei, vil du op! Hei, vil du op!“ sagde han til Øget. „Nei, nei! han kommer til at sidde der, til han sulter ihjel,“ sagde Kongens Folk, medens de red forbi, og saa loe de af ham saa de var færdige at falde af Hestene. Da de vare borte, løb han igjen til Linden og kom efter til Slaget netop som det gjældte. Den Dag dræbte han Fiendens Konge, saa

Krigen blev forbi med det samme. Da Slaget var endt, fik Kongen see sit Lommetørklæde, som den fremmede Kjæmpe havde knyttet om Benet, og saa havde han let for at kjende ham; de tog ham da med stor Glæde mellem sig til Kongsgaarden, og Prindsessen, som saa ham oppe fra sit Vindue, blev saa glad, at man aldrig kan troe det; „der kommer min Kjæreste ogsaa!“ sagde hun. Han tog da Smurningskrukken og smurte sig selv paa Benet og siden alle de Saarede, og saa bleve de Alle sammen gode igjen paa Øieblikket. Saa fik han Prindsessen til Ægte; men da han kom ned i Stalden til Hesten den Dag, Brylluppet skulde staae, stod den der saa stur og hængte med Ørene og vilde slet ikke æde;

da den unge Konge — for da var han bleven Konge og havde faaet det halve Riget — talte til ham og spurgte, hvad der manglede ham, sagde Hesten: „Nu har jeg hjulpet dig frem, og nu vil jeg ikke leve længer. Nu skal du tage Sværdet og hugge Hovedet af mig!“ „Nei, det vil jeg slet ikke gjøre,“ sagde den unge Konge; „men du skal faae, hvad du vil have, og staae stille bestandig!“ „Ja, gjør du ikke, som jeg siger, skal jeg nok vide at faae Livet af dig!“ sagde Hesten. Saa maatte Kongen da gjøre det, men da han hævede Sværdet og skulde hugge til, var han saa bedrøvet, og han maatte vende Ansigtet bort, fordi han ikke vilde see paa Hugget; men aldrig før havde han hugget Hovedet af, saa stod den deiligste Prinds der, Hesten havde

staaet. „Hvor i al Verden kom du fra?“ spurgte Kongen. „Det var mig, som var Hest,“ svarede Prindsen. „Før var jeg Konge i det Land, som den Konge var fra, du dræbte i Slaget i Gaar; det var ham, som kastede Troldham paa mig og solgte mig til Troldet. Siden han nu er dræbt, saa faaer jeg Riget mit igjen og du og jeg blive Nabokonger; men vi skal nok aldrig føre Krig med hinanden.“ — Og det gjorde de da ikke heller; de vare Venner saalænge de levede, og den Ene kom tit og ofte og besøgte den Anden.

Prevod

Izvirnik

Morda ti bo všeč tudi