Rumpelstiltskin

Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. It happened one day that he was called to speak with the King, and to make himself seem a man of importance he said, “I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold.”

“That is an art that pleases me well,” said the King. “If your daughter is as clever as you say, bring her to my palace tomorrow, and I will see what she can do.”

So the girl was brought to him, and the King led her into a room that was heaped to the ceiling with straw. He gave her a spinning wheel and a reel and said, “Now set to work. If by early tomorrow morning you have not spun all this straw into gold, you must die.” Then he locked the door with his own hand and left her there alone.

The poor miller’s daughter sat down, and for the life of her she could not think what to do. She had no idea how straw could ever be spun into gold, and she grew more and more miserable, until at last she began to weep.

All at once the door opened and a little man came in.

“Good evening, miller’s daughter,” he said. “Why are you crying so?”

“Oh,” answered the girl, “I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how it is done.”

“What will you give me,” said the little man, “if I do it for you?”

“My necklace,” said the girl.

The little man took the necklace, sat down at the wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the reel was full. Then he put on another, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the second was full as well. So it went on until morning, when all the straw was spun and every reel was heavy with gold.

At sunrise the King was already at the door, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his heart only grew greedier. He had the miller’s daughter taken to another room full of straw, far larger than the first, and ordered her to spin that one too in a single night, if she valued her life.

The girl was at her wits’ end, and she was crying when the door opened again and the little man appeared.

“What will you give me,” he said, “if I spin this straw into gold for you?”

“The ring from my finger,” answered the girl.

The little man took the ring, set the wheel humming again, and by morning he had spun every stalk into glittering gold.

The King rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, and still it was not gold enough for him. He had the miller’s daughter taken to a room larger still, filled to the rafters with straw, and said, “You must spin this one as well before the night is over. But if you succeed, you shall be my wife.” Even if she is only a miller’s daughter, he thought, I could not find a richer wife in all the world.

When the girl was alone, the little man came in for the third time.

“What will you give me,” he said, “if I spin the straw for you this time as well?”

“I have nothing left that I could give,” answered the girl.

“Then promise me your first child, when you are Queen.”

Who knows whether that will ever come to pass, thought the miller’s daughter; and since she could see no other way out of her trouble, she promised the little man what he asked. For that he spun the straw into gold once more.

When the King came in the morning and found everything as he had wished, he married her, and the beautiful miller’s daughter became a Queen.

A year later she brought a beautiful child into the world, and she never gave the little man a thought. Then all at once he stepped into her room and said, “Now give me what you promised.”

The Queen was horror-struck. She offered him all the riches of the kingdom if only he would leave her the child, but the little man said, “No. Something living is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.”

Then the Queen began to weep and lament so bitterly that the little man took pity on her.

“I will give you three days,” he said. “If by then you know my name, you shall keep your child.”

All night long the Queen thought of every name she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger out across the country to ask far and wide what other names there might be. When the little man came the next day she began with Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar, and said every name she knew, one after another. To each of them the little man answered, “That is not my name.”

On the second day she had someone ask all around the district what the people there were called, and she tried the strangest and most uncommon of the names on the little man.

“Perhaps your name is Shortribs? Or Sheepshanks? Or Laceleg?”

But he always answered, “That is not my name.”

On the third day the messenger came back. “I have not been able to find a single new name,” he said. “But as I came round the edge of the forest to a high mountain, where the fox and the hare say good night to one another, I saw a little house, and in front of the house a fire was burning, and round the fire the most ridiculous little man was leaping. He hopped on one leg and sang this song.”

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!

You can imagine how glad the Queen was when she heard that name. And when the little man walked in soon afterwards and asked, “Well then, my Queen, what is my name?” she asked first, “Is your name Conrad?”

“No.”

“Is your name Harry?”

“No.”

“Then perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?”

“The devil told you that! The devil told you that!” shrieked the little man, and in his fury he drove his right foot so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in. Then he seized his left foot with both hands and pulled at it so hard in his rage that he tore himself in two.