The Swineherd

Once there was a poor prince who had a kingdom. His kingdom was very small, but still big enough to marry on, and he wanted to marry.

It was perhaps a bit bold of him to say to the emperor's daughter, "Will you have me?" But he did, for his name was known far and wide, and there were a hundred princesses who would have said "Yes!" and "Thank you very much." We shall see what this princess said.

Listen!

Where the prince's father lay buried, there grew a rose tree—a most beautiful rose tree that blossomed only once every five years, and even then bore only one flower, but that was a rose! It smelled so sweet that anyone who breathed its scent forgot all their cares and sorrows.

And the prince also had a nightingale that could sing so beautifully that all sweet melodies seemed to live in its little throat. So the princess was to have the rose and the nightingale, and they were put into large silver caskets and sent to her.

The emperor had them brought into a large hall, where the princess was playing a game of "Visiting" with the ladies of the court. When she saw the caskets with the presents, she clapped her hands for joy.

"Ah, if only it were a little pussycat!" she said. But the rose tree with its beautiful rose came into view.

"Oh, how pretty it is!" said all the court ladies.

"It is more than pretty," said the emperor. "It is charming!"

But the princess touched it and almost started to cry.

"Fie, Papa!" she said. "It is not made at all—it is natural!"

"Let us see what is in the other casket before we get into a bad mood," said the emperor. So the nightingale came out and sang so delightfully that at first no one could say anything mean about it.

"Superb! Charming!" exclaimed the ladies, for they all liked to chatter in French, each one worse than her neighbor.

"How much the bird reminds me of the musical box that belonged to our blessed empress," said an old knight. "Oh yes! Those are the same tones, the same performance."

"Yes! Yes!" said the emperor, and he wept like a child at the memory.

"I still hope it is not a real bird," said the princess.

"Yes, it is a real bird," said those who had brought it.

"Well then, let the bird fly," said the princess, and she absolutely refused to see the prince.

However, he was not discouraged. He smeared his face brown and black, pulled his cap over his ears, and knocked on the door.

"Good day to you, my lord emperor!" he said. "Can I get a job at the palace?"

"Why, yes," said the emperor. "I need someone to take care of the pigs, for we have a great many of them."

So the prince was appointed imperial swineherd. He had a dirty little room right by the pigsty, and there he sat all day and worked. By evening he had made a pretty little cooking pot. Little bells were hung all around it, and when the pot was boiling, the bells tinkled in the most charming way and played the old melody:

"Ach! du lieber Augustin, Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"

But what was even more curious: whoever held their finger in the steam from the pot immediately smelled all the dishes that were cooking on every hearth in the city. You see, this was something quite different from the rose.

Now the princess happened to walk that way, and when she heard the tune, she stood still and seemed pleased, for she could play "Lieber Augustin"—it was the only piece she knew, and she played it with one finger.

"Why, that's my piece," said the princess. "That swineherd must certainly be well educated! Go in and ask him the price of the instrument."

So one of the court ladies had to run in—but first she put on wooden slippers.

"What will you take for the cooking pot?" said the lady.

"I will have ten kisses from the princess," said the swineherd.

"Goodness, no!" said the lady.

"I cannot sell it for less," replied the swineherd.

"He is an impudent fellow!" said the princess, and she walked on. But when she had gone a little way, the bells tinkled so prettily:

"Ach! du lieber Augustin, Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"

"Wait," said the princess. "Ask him if he will have ten kisses from the ladies of my court."

"No, thank you!" said the swineherd. "Ten kisses from the princess, or I keep the cooking pot myself."

"That must not be either!" said the princess. "But you all stand in front of me so that no one can see us."

And the court ladies placed themselves in front of her and spread out their dresses. The swineherd got ten kisses, and the princess got the cooking pot.

That was delightful! The pot boiled all evening and all the next day. They knew perfectly well what was cooking at every fire throughout the city, from the chamberlain's to the cobbler's. The court ladies danced and clapped their hands.

"We know who has soup and who has pancakes for dinner today, who has cutlets and who has eggs. How interesting!"

"Yes, but keep my secret, for I am an emperor's daughter."

The swineherd—that is to say, the prince, for no one knew he was anything but an ugly swineherd—did not let a day pass without working on something. At last he made a rattle that, when swung around, played all the waltzes and jig tunes that had ever been heard since the creation of the world.

"Ah, that is superb!" said the princess when she passed by. "I have never heard prettier tunes! Go in and ask him the price of the instrument, but mind, he shall have no more kisses!"

"He will have a hundred kisses from the princess!" said the lady who had gone to ask.

"I think he is not in his right mind!" said the princess, and she walked on. But when she had gone a little way, she stopped again. "One must encourage art," she said. "I am the emperor's daughter. Tell him he shall have ten kisses from me as yesterday, and he may take the rest from the ladies of the court."

"Oh, but we would not like that at all!" they said.

"What are you muttering?" asked the princess. "If I can kiss him, surely you can. Remember, you owe everything to me." So the ladies had to go to him again.

"A hundred kisses from the princess," he said, "or else everyone keeps what they have."

"Stand around!" she said, and all the ladies stood around her while the kissing went on.

"What could be the reason for such a crowd close by the pigsty?" said the emperor, who happened to step out onto the balcony. He rubbed his eyes and put on his spectacles. "Those are the ladies of the court. I must go down and see what they are up to." So he pulled up his slippers at the heel, for he had trodden them down.

As soon as he got into the courtyard, he moved very softly, and the ladies were so busy counting the kisses to be fair that they did not notice the emperor. He rose on his tiptoes.

"What is all this?" he said when he saw what was happening, and he boxed the princess's ears with his slipper just as the swineherd was receiving the eighty-sixth kiss.

"March out!" said the emperor, for he was very angry. And both the princess and the swineherd were thrust out of the city.

Now the princess stood and wept, the swineherd scolded, and the rain poured down.

"Alas! Unhappy creature that I am!" said the princess. "If only I had married the handsome young prince! Ah, how unfortunate I am!"

And the swineherd went behind a tree, washed the black and brown color from his face, threw off his dirty clothes, and stepped forth in his princely robes. He looked so noble that the princess could not help bowing before him.

"I have come to look down on you," he said. "You would not have an honorable prince. You could not value the rose and the nightingale, but you were ready to kiss the swineherd for a silly toy. You have gotten what you deserve."

Then he went back to his own little kingdom and shut the door of his palace in her face. Now she could well sing:

"Ach! du lieber Augustin, Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"