The Bremen Town-Musicians

Once upon a time there was a man who had a donkey. For many long years the donkey had carried sacks of corn to the mill without ever getting tired. But now he was growing old, and his strength was going. He was less and less fit for work. His master began to think about how he could save money by not feeding the donkey anymore. The donkey saw that no good wind was blowing his way, so he ran away and set out on the road to Bremen. “There,” he thought, “I can surely become a town musician.”

After he had walked a little way, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping like one who had run until he was exhausted. “What are you gasping for, you big fellow?” asked the donkey.

“Ah,” replied the hound, “because I am old and get weaker every day, and I can no longer hunt, my master wanted to kill me. So I ran away. But now how am I to earn my bread?”

“I tell you what,” said the donkey, “I am going to Bremen to become a town musician. Come with me and join as a musician too. I will play the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum.”

The hound agreed, and they went on together.

Before long they came to a cat sitting on the path with a face like three rainy days. “Now then, old whiskers, what has gone wrong with you?” asked the donkey.

“Who can be merry when his neck is in danger?” answered the cat. “Because I am getting old, and my teeth are worn to stumps, and I prefer to sit by the fire and spin rather than hunt mice, my mistress wanted to drown me. So I ran away. But now good advice is hard to find. Where am I to go?”

“Go with us to Bremen. You understand night music, so you can become a town musician.”

The cat thought it was a good idea and went with them.

After this, the three runaways came to a farmyard where the cock was sitting on the gate, crowing with all his might. “Your crow goes right through a person,” said the donkey. “What is the matter?”

“I have been foretelling fine weather because it is the day when Our Lady washes the Christ-child’s little shirts and wants to dry them,” said the cock. “But guests are coming for Sunday, so the housewife has no pity. She has told the cook that I am to be eaten in the soup tomorrow, and this evening my head is to be cut off. Now I am crowing at full pitch while I can.”

“Ah, red-comb,” said the donkey, “you had better come away with us. We are going to Bremen. You can find something better than death anywhere. You have a good voice, and if we make music together, it must sound wonderful!”

The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together.

They could not reach the city of Bremen in one day. In the evening they came to a forest where they meant to spend the night. The donkey and the hound lay down under a large tree. The cat and the cock settled in the branches.

But the cock flew right to the top, where he was safest. Before he went to sleep, he looked around on all sides and thought he saw a little spark burning in the distance. He called out to his companions that there must be a house not far off, for he saw a light.

The donkey said, “If so, we had better get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad.” The hound thought that a few bones with some meat on them would do him good too.

So they made their way to the place where the light was. Soon they saw it shine brighter and grow larger until they came to a well-lit robber’s house. The donkey, being the biggest, went to the window and looked in.

“What do you see, my grey-horse?” asked the cock. “What do I see?” answered the donkey. “A table covered with good things to eat and drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.” “That would be the sort of thing for us,” said the cock. “Yes, yes; ah, how I wish we were there!” said the donkey.

Then the animals held a council to decide how they should drive away the robbers. At last they thought of a plan. The donkey was to place himself with his forefeet on the window ledge. The hound was to jump on the donkey’s back. The cat was to climb onto the dog. And lastly, the cock was to fly up and perch on the cat’s head.

When this was done, at a given signal they began to make their music together. The donkey brayed, the hound barked, the cat mewed, and the cock crowed. Then they burst through the window into the room, so that the glass clattered. At this horrible noise, the robbers jumped up, thinking a ghost had come in, and fled in great fright out into the forest.

The four companions now sat down at the table, well pleased with what was left, and ate as if they were going to fast for a month.

As soon as the four minstrels had finished, they put out the light, and each looked for a sleeping place according to his nature and what suited him. The donkey lay down on some straw in the yard, the hound behind the door, the cat on the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cock perched on a beam of the roof. Being tired from their long walk, they soon fell asleep.

When it was past midnight, the robbers saw from afar that the light was no longer burning in their house, and all seemed quiet. The captain said, “We should not have let ourselves be scared out of our wits,” and he ordered one of the robbers to go and examine the house.

The messenger found everything still. He went into the kitchen to light a candle. Seeing the glistening fiery eyes of the cat, he thought they were live coals and held a match to them to light it. But the cat did not understand the joke.

She flew in his face, spitting and scratching. He was dreadfully frightened and ran to the back door. But the dog, who lay there, sprang up and bit his leg. As he ran across the yard by the straw heap, the donkey gave him a smart kick with his hind foot.

The cock, too, who had been awakened by the noise and had become lively, cried down from the beam, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain and said, “Ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house. She spat on me and scratched my face with her long claws. By the door stands a man with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg. In the yard lies a black monster who beat me with a wooden club. And above, on the roof, sits the judge who called out, ‘Bring the rogue here to me!’ So I got away as well as I could.”

After this, the robbers did not dare to go into the house again. But it suited the four musicians of Bremen so well that they did not care to leave it anymore. And the mouth of him who last told this story is still warm.