There was once upon a time a queen whose husband had been dead for many years. She had a beautiful daughter whom she loved dearly. The queen was magnificent in her long, flowing robe, and she ruled her country in a kind and wise manner. When the princess grew up she became engaged to marry a prince who lived a great distance away. When the time came for the wedding, she prepared for the long journey. The queen packed many valuable gifts of gold and silver that made up her precious daughter’s royal dowry. She also agreed to send her maid-in-waiting, to accompany the princess and deliver her to her bridegroom. Each had a horse for the journey. The queen’s daughter’s horse was called Falada, and it could speak.
When the hour of parting had come, the queen went into her bedroom and selected her favorite umbrella. This was her parting gift to her daughter to shield her from the sun, lest she burn her fair skin.
As they said a sorrowful good-bye, the princess mounted her horse, and went to meet her prince. After they had gone a while, she became very thirsty, and said to her maid-in-waiting, “I should like a drink of fresh water. Please take my golden cup, and fetch me some from that stream over yonder.”
“If you are thirsty,” said the maid, “get off your horse yourself and lie down and drink out of the stream. I don’t choose to wait on you.” So in her great thirst, the princess alighted, bent down over the water in the stream and drank. The maid would not release the golden cup but kept it for herself.
As the princess was drinking, her horse came over to drink from the stream also, and said, “If this your mother knew, her heart would break in two.” But the queen’s daughter said nothing, and mounted her horse again after their thirst was quenched.
They rode along for a while in silence. She held the umbrella over her head to keep the sun for her face, but as the day was very warm, she was once again thirsty. When she saw another stream, the princess said to her maid, “Please dismount and give me some water in my golden cup,” for she had long ago forgotten the girl’s rude words.
But the ill-tempered maid said haughtily, “If you wish to drink, get it yourself, I don’t choose to be your servant.”
The princess, in her great thirst, got off her horse, bent over the flowing stream to drink, and wept. Again her horse drank with her and said, “If this your mother knew, her heart would break in two.”
When the princess tried to remount Falada, the maid said, “Now we will trade horses, for I am more comfortable on Falada.” The princess had to be content with that. Then the maid-in-waiting, with many harsh words, forced the princess to exchange her royal clothing for the maid’s own shabby clothes. She also made the princess promise that she would not say one word of this to anyone at the royal court. If the princess didn’t agree, she would be left behind to die in the forest. Reluctantly, the poor girl agreed to remain silent. But Falada saw and heard all.
After the maid mounted Falada and the princess settled herself on the other horse, they traveled onwards until at last they came to the royal palace. There was much celebration when they arrived and the prince came forward to greet them, lifting the waiting-maid from her horse, thinking she was his bride. While the maid was taken upstairs in the palace, the real princess was left standing in the courtyard below. The old king looked out of the window, saw her standing there and asked about her. He thought she had grace and poise, and felt there was something special about her. The maid responded, “She is just someone I picked up along the way, out of the kindness of my heart. Give her some work so she will not be idle.” And so the princess was put to work as a goose girl and was to tend the flock with the goose boy, who was named Conrad.
After the waiting-maid had rested from the journey, she called to her husband-to-be and said, “Dearest prince, I beg you to do me a favor.”
He answered, “I will do so most willingly.”
“My horse has vexed me plenty and I want it killed,” said the false princess. In reality, she was afraid that Falada might tell how she had betrayed the queen’s daughter.
The prince agreed, and in making the arrangements, the news came to the ears of the princess. She secretly bargained with the stable boy to take Falada to a distant meadow, and do the evil deed to another poor old horse that was sick and lame and was soon to die anyway. She rewarded the boy generously with a piece of gold, and the deal was done.
Now, the next day while the princess tended the geese, she walked past the meadow where Falada ran free. He came up to her and she said, “Alas, Falada, what of this mess I am in?”
And the horse answered:
Alas, young queen, how ill you fare!
This wicked bargain you must bear.
If only this your mother knew,
You know her heart would break in two.
The young Conrad heard this exchange and was curious. They walked the geese still further past the meadow and headed down to the pond. When they arrived, the princess sat down and unbound her hair, which was like pure gold, holding her umbrella over her head to keep the sun from her face. Conrad was struck by its beauty and wanted to pluck out a few hairs.
But she said:
Blow thou gentle wind, I say,
Blow Conrad’s little hat away,
And make him chase it here and there,
Until I have braided all my hair.
And there came such a wind that it blew Conrad’s hat far away across the hills, and he was forced to run after it. When he came back she had finished combing her hair and was putting it up again, and he could not get any of it. Conrad was angry and would not speak to her, so they watched the geese until evening in silence, and then went home.
Next day as they drove the geese past the meadow, Falada came up to the princess again, and she said, “Alas, Falada, what of this mess I am in?”
And the horse answered:
Alas, young queen, how ill you fare!
This wicked bargain you must bear.
If only this your mother knew,
You know her heart would break in two.
The princess sat down in the meadow with her umbrella over her head, and began to comb out her hair. Conrad ran and tried to grab it, so she said quickly:
Blow thou gentle wind, I say,
Blow Conrad’s little hat away,
And make him chase it here and there,
Until I have braided all my hair.
Then the wind blew Conrad’s hat and he was forced to chase after it. When he came back, she had finished putting her hair up and he could not get any of it. Angry again, Conrad refused to speak to the maiden and they looked after their geese in silence until evening came.
After they returned to the palace, Conrad was still so angry that he went to speak to the old king. “I won’t tend the geese with that girl any longer!” he complained.
“Why not?” inquired the aged king.
“Because she does strange things,” replied the boy. The king commanded Conrad to tell him all, and the boy said, “Well, when we drive the geese to the pond, she insists on going by a certain meadow, where a horse always comes up to her and she says to it, ‘Alas, Falada, what of this mess I am in?’ And the horse answers:
Alas, young queen, how ill you fare!
This wicked bargain you must bear.
If only this your mother knew,
You know her heart would break in two.”
And Conrad went on to relate how she sat each day to comb her hair, her umbrella over her head, and how she summoned the wind to blow his hat away. He told the old king how angry this made him, because he only wanted to touch the girl’s beautiful, golden hair.
The next day, the old king rode out to the meadow early and hid behind a nearby tree, so that when the princess came by and spoke to Falada, he heard every word. Then he saw her sit down under her umbrella to untie her hair, and he, too, marveled at its golden radiance. He heard her bid the wind to carry off Conrad’s hat and watched as she braided her hair and tied it up. Then the old king slipped away, unseen, and returned to the castle.
When the goose girl came home that evening, he called her aside and asked her why she did all these things. But she said, “I may not tell that, and I dare not lament my sorrows to any human being, for I have sworn not to do so.” He urged her to reveal her secret, but could draw nothing from her.
Then he said, “If you will not tell me, perhaps you can tell your sorrow to the fire.” And he went away.
She crept up to the large fireplace and sat on the hearth and began to weep before the fire. She told her whole story in between sobs, saying, “Here am I, deserted by the whole world, and yet I am a queen’s daughter. A false maid-in-waiting has by force brought me to such a place that I have been made to put off my royal clothing, and she has taken my place with my bridegroom, and I have to perform menial service as a goose girl. If this my mother knew, her heart would break in two.”
The old king silently listened at the door, and knowing the true story, commanded that she be taken into the palace and given royal garments that glittered like the sun and befitted her royal heritage. The young prince was called in and told of the deception, and rejoiced in the truth that this beautiful, radiant girl was his true bride. A feast was prepared and at the head of the table sat the bridegroom with the queen’s daughter on one side and the waiting-maid on the other. The maid was so caught up in her deception that she did not recognize the princess in her dazzling array.
When they had eaten and drunk, and were enjoying the entertainment, the old king asked the waiting-maid a riddle, “What punishment does a person deserve who has betrayed another?”
The waiting-maid answered, “She deserves to be sent far away, banished from the kingdom forever.”
“Then that is your fate,” said the old king. “For this is your evil deed of which I spoke, and you have just set your own punishment.”
After the sentence was carried out, the young prince and princess were married and reigned over their kingdom with truth and wisdom. Eventually, at the death of the old queen in her faraway kingdom, the young queen inherited her mother’s land and the two countries were merged in peace and harmony.