A miller’s daughter is shut in a room of straw and told to spin it into gold, but a little man spins it for her, taking her jewelry and then her first child. When the Queen names him Rumpelstiltskin, the little man stamps his foot so deep into the ground that he cannot pull it free, and the Queen keeps her child.
Once there was a poor miller who had a beautiful daughter. To make himself seem important, he told the King, “I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold.”
“That is an art that pleases me,” said the King. “Bring her to my palace tomorrow.”
Next day he shut her in a room heaped with straw, gave her a wheel and said, “Spin it all into gold by morning, or it will cost you your life.”
She knew nothing of such spinning, and began to weep. Then the door opened and a little man came in.
“Good evening, miller’s daughter,” he said. “Why are you crying so?”
“I must spin this straw into gold,” she answered, “and I do not know how.”
“What will you give me if I do it for you?”
“My necklace,” said the girl.
He took it, sat at the wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns and the reel was full of gold. By morning it was all spun.
At sunrise the King saw the gold and grew greedier still. He shut her in a larger room of straw with the same command, and again the little man came.
“What will you give me if I spin this straw into gold for you?”
“The ring from my finger,” she answered.
He took the ring, and by morning that straw was gold too.
But it was not enough. The King led her to a room larger than either. “Spin this tonight, and you shall be my wife.”
When she was alone, the little man came a third time.
“What will you give me if I spin the straw once more?”
“I have nothing left to give,” she answered.
“Then promise me your first child, when you are Queen.”
Who knows if that will ever happen, thought the girl, and seeing no other way she promised. For that the little man spun the straw into gold once more. In the morning the King married her, and the miller’s daughter became Queen.
A year later she had a beautiful child and forgot the little man. Then one day he stood in her room.
“Now give me what you promised.”
She offered him all the riches of the kingdom for the child.
“No,” he said. “Something living is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.”
Then she wept so bitterly that he took pity on her.
“I will give you three days,” he said. “If by then you know my name, you keep your child.”
The Queen sent a messenger far and wide for names, and next day she tried Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar and every name she knew.
“That is not my name,” he said to each one.
On the second day she tried the strangest names of all. “Are you perhaps called Shortribs, or Sheepshanks, or Laceleg?”
“That is not my name,” he answered.
On the third day the messenger came back.
“I found no new name,” he said, “but by a high mountain where the fox and the hare say good night, I saw a little house with a fire before it, and a little man hopping round the fire on one leg and singing.”
This is what he sang:
Today I bake, tomorrow I brew,and the next day the Queen’s child I claim.How glad I am that nobody knewthat Rumpelstiltskin is my name.
Then the little man came and asked, “Now, my Queen, what is my name?”
“Is your name Conrad?”
“No.”
“Is your name Harry?”
“No.”
“Then perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?”
“The devil told you that!” cried the little man.
In his rage he stamped his foot so deep into the ground that the earth closed over him, and he was gone. The Queen kept her child, and no one ever saw the little man again.
Retold by Talerie, Source: Household Tales by Brothers Grimm (opens in a new window)
License: Public domainCopy this text, adapt it, use it however you like. A link back to Talerie is appreciated but never required.CC0 1.0 (opens in a new window)
