Chapter IV - The Werewolf

There was once a king, who ruled over a large kingdom. He was married to a beautiful queen, by whom he had only one child, a daughter. Hence it naturally followed that the little one was to her parents as the apple of their eye, and was dear to them beyond all other things, so that they thought of nothing with such delight as of the pleasure they should have in her when she grew up. But much falls out contrary to expectation; for before the princess was out of her childhood, the queen, her mother, fell sick and died. Now, it is easy to imagine that there was sadness not only in the royal court, but over the whole kingdom, for the queen was greatly beloved by all. The king himself was so deeply afflicted that he resolved never to marry again, but placed all his comfort and joy in the little princess.

In this manner a considerable time passed on; the young princess grew from day to day taller and fairer, and everything she at any time desired was by her father immediately granted her; many attendants being placed about her, for the sole purpose of being at hand to execute all her commands. Among these there was a woman who had been previously married, and had two daughters. She was of an agreeable person, and had a persuasive tongue, so that she well knew how to put her words together; added to all which she was as soft and pliant as silk; but her heart was full of artifices and all kinds of falsehood. No sooner was the queen dead than she began to devise plans how she might become consort to the king, and her daughters be honoured as kings' daughters. With this object she began by winning the affection of the young princess, praised beyond measure all that she said or did, and all her talk ended in declaring how happy they would be if the king would take to himself a new wife. On this subject the conversation often-est turned both early and late, till at length the princess could not believe otherwise than that all the woman said was true. She therefore asked her what description of wife it were most desirable that the king should select. The woman, in many words, all sweet as honey, answered, “111 would it become me to give an opinion in such a case, hoping only he may choose for his queen one who will be kind to my little princess. But this I know, that were I so fortunate as to be the object of his choice, I should think only of what might please the princess; and if she wished to wash her hands, one of my daughters should hold the basin, and the other hand her the towel.^,, This and much more she said to the princess, who believed her, as children readily believe all that is told them is true.

Not a day now passed in which the king was free from the solicitations of his daughter, who incessantly besought him to marry the handsome waiting-woman; but he would not. Nevertheless, the princess would not desist from her entreaties, but spoke incessantly precisely as she had been taught by the false waiting-woman. One day, when she was talking in the same strain, the king broke forth: “I see very well that it must at length be as you have resolved, greatly as it is against my wish; but it shall be only on one condition.” “What is the condition?” asked the princess, overjoyed. “It is,” said the king, “that, as it is for your sake if I marry again, you shall promise me that if at any future time you shall be discontented with your stepmother or your stepsisters, I shall not be troubled with your complaints and grievances.” The princess made the promise, and it was settled that the king should marry the waiting-woman, and make her queen over all his realm.

As time passed on the king’s daughter grew up to be the fairest maid in all the land; while the queen’s daughters were as ugly in person as in disposition, so that no one had a good word for them. There could not, therefore, fail of being a number of young princes and knights, from both east and west, coming to demand the young princess; while not one vouchsafed to woo either of the queen’s daughters. At this the stepmother was sorely vexed at heart, however she might conceal her feelings, being, to all outward appearance, as smooth and humble as before. Among the suitors there was a king’s son from a distant country, who was both young and valorous, and as he passionately loved the princess, she listened to his addresses, and plighted her faith to him in return. The queen observed all this with a jaundiced eye; for she would fain have had the prince marry one of her own daughters, and, therefore, resolved that the young couple should never be united with each other. From that moment her thoughts were solely bent on the destruction both of them and their love.

An opportunity soon offered itself to her; for just at that time intelligence was received that an enemy had invaded the country, so that the king was obliged to take the field. The princess was now soon made to learn what kind of a stepmother she had got; for hardly had the king departed before the queen began to show her true disposition, so that she now was as cruel and malignant as she had previously appeared to be friendly and obliging. Not a day passed on which the princess did not hear maledictions and hard words; nor did the queen’s daughters yield to their mother in wickedness. But a lot still more cruel awaited the young prince, the lover of the princess. While engaged in the chase he had lost his way, and got separated from his companions. Availing herself of the opportunity, the queen practised on him her wicked arts, and transformed him into a werewolf, so that for the remainder of his days he should be a prowler of the forest. When evening drew on, and the prince did not appear, his men returned home; and the sorrow may be easily imagined with which the princess was overwhelmed when she was informed how the chase had terminated. She wept and mourned day and night, and would not be comforted. But the queen laughed at her affliction, and rejoiced in her false heart that everything had turned out so agreeably to her wishes.

As the princess was one day sitting alone in her maiden-bower, it entered her mind that she would visit the forest in which the young prince had disappeared. She went, therefore, to her stepmother, and asked permission to go to the wood, that she might for a little while forget her heavy affliction. To her request the queen would hardly give her consent, as she was always more inclined to say no than yes; but the princess besought her so earnestly that at last her stepmother could no longer withhold her permission, only ordering one of her daughters to accompany and keep watch over her. A long dispute now arose between mother and daughters, neither of the stepsisters being willing to go with her, but excusing themselves, and asking what pleasure they could have in following her who did nothing but weep. The matter ended by the queen insisting that one of her daughters should go with the princess, however much it might be against her will. The maidens then strolled away from the palace and reached the forest, where the princess amused herself with wandering among the trees, and listening to the song of the little birds, and thinking on the friend she loved so dearly, and whom she now had lost; the queen’s daughter following all the while, with a heart full of rancorous feeling for the princess and her grief.

After having wandered about for some time they came to a small cottage that stood far in the dark forest. At the same moment the princess was seized with a burning thirst, and entreated her stepsister to accompany her to the cottage, that she might get a draught of water. At this the queen’s daughter became only more ill-humoured, and said, “Is it not enough that I follow you up and down in the wild wood? Now, because you are a princess, you require me to go into such a filthy nest. No, my foot shall never enter it. If you will go, go alone.” The princess took no long time to consider, but did as her stepsister said, and entered the cabin. In the little apartment she saw an aged woman sitting on a bench, who appeared so stricken with years that her head shook. The princess saluted her, as was her wont, in a friendly tone, with “Good evening, good mother! may I ask you for a little drink of water?” “Yes, and right welcome,” answered the old woman. “Who are you that come under my humble roof with so kind a greeting?” The princess told her that she was the king’s daughter, and had come out to divert herself, with the hope, in some degree, of forgetting her heavy affliction. “What affliction have you, then?” asked the old woman. “Well may I grieve,” answered the princess, “and never more feel joyful. I have lost my only friend, and God alone knows whether we shall ever meet again.” She then related to the old woman all that had taken place, while the tears flowed from her eyes in such torrents that no one could have refrained from pitying her. When she had concluded, the old woman said, “It is well that you have made your grief known to me; I have experienced much, and can, perhaps, give you some advice. When you go from hence you will see a lily growing in the field. This lily is not like other lilies, but has many wonderful properties. Hasten, therefore, to pluck it. If you can do so, all will be well; for then there will come one who will tell you what you are to do.” They then parted; the princess having thanked her, continued her walk, and the old woman remained sitting on her bench and shaking her head. But the queen’s daughter had been standing during the whole time outside the door, murmuring and fretting that the princess staid so long.

When she came out she had to hear much chiding from her stepsister, as was to be expected; but to this she gave very little heed, thinking only how she should find the flower of which the old woman had spoken. She therefore proceeded further into the forest, and in the selfsame moment her eye fell on a spot where there stood a beautiful white lily in full bloom before her. On seeing it she was so glad, so glad, and instantly ran to gather it, but it vanished on a sudden and appeared again at some distance. The princess was now eager beyond measure, and no longer gave heed to the voice of her stepsister, but continued running; though every time she put forth her hand to take the flower it was already away, and immediately afterwards reappeared at a short distance farther off. Thus it continued for a considerable time, and the princess penetrated further and further into the dense forest, the lily all the while appearing and vanishing, and again showing itself, and every time looking taller and more beautiful than before. In this manner the princess at length came to a high mountain, when on casting her eyes up to the summit, there stood the flower on the very edge, as brilliant and fair as the brightest star. She now began to climb up the mountain, caring for neither the stocks nor the stones that lay in the way, so great was her ardour. When she at length had gained the mountain’s top, lo! the lily no longer moved, but continued stationary. The princess then stooped and plucked it, and placed it in her bosom, and was so overjoyed that she forgot both stepsister and everything in the world besides.

For a long time the princess could not sufficiently feast her eyes with the sight of the beautiful flower. It then on a sudden entered her mind, what her stepmother would say, when she returned home, for having staid out so long. She looked about her before returning to the palace, but on casting a glance behind her she saw that the sun had gone down, and that only a strip of day yet tarried on the mountain’s summit; while down before her the forest appeared so dark and gloomy, that she did not trust herself to find the way through it. She was now exceedingly weary and exhausted, and saw no alternative but that she must remain for the night where she was. Sitting then down on the rock, she placed her hand under her cheek and wept, and thought on her wicked stepmother and stepsisters, and all the bitter words she must hear when she returned home, and on the king, her father, who was absent, and on the beloved of her heart, whom she should never see again; but abundantly as her tears flowed she noticed them not, so absorbing was her affliction. Night now drew on, all was shrouded in darkness, the stars rose and set, but the princess still continued sitting on the same spot, weeping without intermission. While thus sitting, lost in thought, she heard a voice greeting her with, “Good evening, fair maiden! Why do you sit here so lonely and sorrowful?”

She started and was greatly surprised, as may easily be imagined; and on looking back there stood a little, little old man, who nodded and looked so truly benevolent. She answered, “I may well be sorrowful, and never more be glad. I have lost my best beloved, and have, moreover, missed my path in the forest, so that I am fearful of being devoured by the wild beasts.” “Oh,” said the old man, “don’t be disheartened for that. If you will obey me in all that I say, I will help you.” To this the princess readily assented, seeing herself forsaken by the whole world besides. The old man then drew forth a flint and steel, and said, “Fair maiden! now, in the first place, you shall kindle a fire.” The king’s daughter did as she was desired, gathered moss, twigs, and dry wood, and kindled a fire on the mountain’s brow. When she had done this the old man said to her, “Go now further on the mountain, and you will find a pot full of tar: bring it hither.” The princess did so. The old man continued: “Now set the pot on the fire.” The princess did so. “When, now, the tar begins to boil,” said the old man, “cast your white lily into the pot.” This seemed to the princess a very hard command, and she prayed earnestly that she might retain her lily; but the old man said: “Have you not promised to obey me in all that I desire, Do as I tell you; you will not repent.” The princess then, with eyes averted, cast the lily into the boiling pot, although it grieved her to the heart; so dear to her was the beautiful flower.

At the same instant a hollow roaring was heard from the forest, like the cry of a wild beast, which came nearer and nearer, and passed into a hideous howl, so that the mountain re-echoed on every side. At the same time was heard a cracking and rustling among the trees, the bushes gave way, and the princess beheld a huge gray wolf come rushing out of the forest just opposite to the spot where they were sitting. In her terror she would gladly have fled from it; but the old man said, “Make haste, run to the brow of the mountain, and the moment the wolf comes before you, empty the tar-pot over him.” The princess, although so terrified that she was hardly conscious of what she did, nevertheless followed the old man’s direction, and poured the tar over the wolf, just as he came running towards her. But now a wonderful event took place, for scarcely had she done so when the wolf changed his covering, the great gray skin started off from him, and, instead of a ravenous wild beast, there stood a comely youth with eyes directed towards the brow of the mountain; and when the princess had so far recovered from her fright that she could look on him, whom did she behold before her but her own best beloved, who had been transformed into a werewolf!

Now let any one, who can, imagine what the feelings of the princess were at this moment. She stretched out her arms towards him, but could neither speak nor answer, so great were her surprise and joy. But the prince ran up the mountain and embraced her with all the ardour of the truest affection, and thanked her for having restored him. Nor did he forget the little old man, but thanked him in many kind words for his powerful aid. They then sat down on the mountain-top and conversed lovingly with each other. The prince related how he had been changed into a wolf, and all the privations he had suffered while he had to range about the forest; and the princess recounted to him her sorrow and all the tears she had shed during his absence. Thus they sat throughout the night, heedless of the passing hour, until the stars began gradually to retire before the daylight, so that the surrounding objects were visible. When the sun had risen they perceived that a wide road ran from the foot of the hill quite up to the royal palace. Then said the old man, “Fair maiden, turn about. Do you see anything yonder?” “Yes,” answered the princess, “I see a horseman on a foaming horse; he rides along the road at full speed.” “That,” said the old man, “is a messenger from the king, your father. He will follow forthwith with his whole army.” Now was the princess glad beyond measure, and wished instantly to descend to meet her father; but the old man held her back, saying: “Wait: it is yet too soon. Let us first see how things will turn out.”

After some time the sun shone bright, so that its rays fell on the palace down before them. Then said the old man, “Fair maiden, turn about. Do you see anything yonder?” “Yes,” answered the princess, “I see many persons coming out of my father’s palace, some of whom proceed along the road, while others hasten towards the forest.” The old man said, “They are your stepmother’s servants. She has sent one party to meet the king and bid him welcome; but the other is going to the forest in search of you.” At hearing this the princess was troubled, and was with difficulty induced to remain, but wished to go down to the queen’s people: but the old man held her back, saying, “Wait yet a little while; we will first see how things turn out.”

For some time the princess continued with her looks directed towards the road by which the king was to come. Then said the old man again, “Fair maiden, turn about. Do you observe anything yonder?” “Yes,” answered the princess, “there is a great stir in my father’s palace; and see! now they are busy in hanging the whole palace with black.” The old man said, “That is your stepmother and her servants. They wish to make your father believe that you are dead.” At this the princess was filled with anxiety, and prayed fervently, saying, “Let me go, let me go, that I may spare my father so great an affliction.” But the old man detained her, saying, “No, wait. It is still too soon. We will first see how things turn out.”

Again another interval passed, the sun rose high in the heaven, and the air breathed warm over field and forest; but the royal children and the little old man continued sitting on the mountain where we left them. They now observed a small cloud slowly rising in the horizon, which grew larger and larger, and came nearer and nearer along the road; and as it moved they saw that it glittered with weapons, and perceived helmets nodding and banners waving, heard the clanking of swords and the neighing of horses, and at length recognised the royal standard. Now it is easy to imagine that the joy of the princess exceeded all bounds, and that she only longed to go and greet her father. But the old man held her back, saying, “Turn about, fair maiden, do you see nothing at the king’s palace?” “Yes,” answered the princess, “I see my stepmother and my stepsisters coming out clad in deep mourning, and holding white handkerchiefs to their faces, and weeping bitterly.” The old man said, “They are now pretending to mourn for your death; but wait awhile, we have yet to see how things will turn out.”

Some time after, the old man asked again, “Fair maiden, turn about. Do you observe anything yonder?” “Yes,” answered the princess, “I see them come bearing a black coffin. Now my father orders it to be opened. And see! the queen and her daughters fall on their knees, and my father threatens them with his sword.” The old man said, “The king desired to see your corpse, and so your wicked stepmother has been forced to confess the truth.” On hearing this, the princess entreated fervently: “Let me go, let me go, that I may console my father in his great affliction.” But the old man still detained her, saying, “Attend to my counsel, and stay here a little while. We have not yet seen how everything will terminate.”

Another interval passed, and the princess, and the prince, and the little old man, still continued sitting on the mountain. Then said the old man, “Turn about, fair maiden. Do you observe anything yonder?” “Yes,” answered the princess, “I see my father, and my stepmother, and my stepsisters, coming this way with all their attendants.” The old man continued, “They have now set out in search of you. Go down now, and bring the wolfskin which is lying below.” The king’s daughter did so, and the old man then said, “Place yourself on the brink of the mountain.” The princess did so, and at the same moment perceived the queen and her daughters coming along the road just beneath the mountain where they were sitting. “Now,” said the old man, “cast the wolfskin straight down.” The princess obeyed, and cast the wolfskin as the old man had directed. It fell exactly over the wicked queen and her two daughters. But now a wonderful event took place, for hardly had the skin touched the three women than they changed their guise, gave a hideous howl, and were transformed into three fierce werewolves, which at full speed rushed into the wild forest.

Scarcely had this taken place before the king himself with all his men came to the foot of the mountain. When he looked up and beheld the princess, he could not at first believe his eyes, but stood immovable, thinking it was a spectre. The old man then cried, “Fair maiden, hasten now down and gladden the heart of your father.” The, princess did not wait to be told a second time, but, taking her lover by the hand, was in an instant at the mountain’s foot. When they reached the spot where the king was standing, the princess fell on her father’s breast and wept for joy; the young prince also wept; even the king himself shed tears, and to every one present their meeting was a delightful spectacle. Great joy was there and many embracings, and the princess related all she had suffered from her stepmother and stepsisters, and all about her beloved prince, and the little old man who had so kindly assisted them. But when the king- turned to thank him he had already vanished, and no one could ever say either who he was or whither he went.

The king and all his suite now returned to the palace, on their way towards which much was said both about the little old man and what the princess had undergone. On reaching home the king ordered a sumptuous banquet to be prepared, to which he invited all the most distinguished and exalted persons of his kingdom, and bestowed his daughter on the young prince; and their nuptials were celebrated with games and rejoicings for many days. And I, too, was at the feastings; and as I rode through the forest I was met by a wolf with two young ones; they were ravenous, and seemed to suffer much. I have since learned that they were no other than the wicked stepmother and her two daughters.