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The third night he sat down again on his bench and said quite sadly: ‘If I could but shudder.’ When it grew late, six tall men came in and brought a coffin. Then he said: ‘Ha, ha, that is certainly my little cousin, who died only a few days ago,’ and he beckoned with his finger, and cried: ‘Come, little cousin, come.’ They placed the coffin on the ground, but he went to it and took the lid off, and a dead man lay therein. He felt his face, but it was cold as ice. ‘Wait,’ said he, ‘I will warm you a little,’ and went to the fire and warmed his hand and laid it on the dead man’s face, but he remained cold. Then he took him out, and sat down by the fire and laid him on his breast and rubbed his arms that the blood might circulate again. As this also did no good, he thought to himself: ‘When two people lie in bed together, they warm each other,’ and carried him to the bed, covered him over and lay down by him. After a short time the dead man became warm too, and began to move. Then said the youth, ‘See, little cousin, have I not warmed you?’ The dead man, however, got up and cried: ‘Now will I strangle you.’
‘What!’ said he, ‘is that the way you thank me? You shall at once go into your coffin again,’ and he took him up, threw him into it, and shut the lid. Then came the six men and carried him away again. ‘I cannot manage to shudder,’ said he. ‘I shall never learn it here as long as I live.’
Then a man entered who was taller than all others, and looked terrible. He was old, however, and had a long white beard. ‘You wretch,’ cried he, ‘you shall soon learn what it is to shudder, for you shall die.’ ‘Not so fast,’ replied the youth. ‘If I am to die, I shall have to have a say in it.’ ‘I will soon seize you,’ said the fiend. ‘Softly, softly, do not talk so big. I am as strong as you are, and perhaps even stronger.’ ‘We shall see,’ said the old man. ‘If you are stronger, I will let you go—come, we will try.’ Then he led him by dark passages to a smith’s forge, took an axe, and with one blow struck an anvil into the ground. ‘I can do better than that,’ said the youth, and went to the other anvil. The old man placed himself near and wanted to look on, and his white beard hung down. Then the youth seized the axe, split the anvil with one blow, and in it caught the old man’s beard. ‘Now I have you,’ said the youth. ‘Now it is your turn to die.’ Then he seized an iron bar and beat the old man till he moaned and entreated him to stop, when he would give him great riches. The youth drew out the axe and let him go. The old man led him back into the castle, and in a cellar showed him three chests full of gold. ‘Of these,’ said he, ‘one part is for the poor, the other for the king, the third yours.’ In the meantime it struck twelve, and the spirit disappeared, so that the youth stood in darkness. ‘I shall still be able to find my way out,’ said he, and felt about, found the way into the room, and slept there by his fire. Next morning the king came and said: ‘Now you must have learnt what shuddering is?’ ‘No,’ he answered; ‘what can it be? My dead cousin was here, and a bearded man came and showed me a great deal of money down below, but no one told me what it was to shudder.’ ‘Then,’ said the king, ‘you have saved the castle, and shall marry my daughter.’ ‘That is all very well,’ said he, ‘but still I do not know what it is to shudder!’
Then the gold was brought up and the wedding celebrated; but howsoever much the young king loved his wife, and however happy he was, he still said always: ‘If I could but shudder—if I could but shudder.’ And this at last angered her. Her waiting-maid said: ‘I will find a cure for him; he shall soon learn what it is to shudder.’ She went out to the stream which flowed through the garden, and had a whole bucketful of gudgeons brought to her. At night when the young king was sleeping, his wife was to draw the clothes off him and empty the bucket full of cold water with the gudgeons in it over him, so that the little fishes would sprawl about him. Then he woke up and cried: ‘Oh, what makes me shudder so?—what makes me shudder so, dear wife? Ah! now I know what it is to shudder!’
A great king of a land far away in the East had a daughter who was very beautiful, but so proud, and haughty, and conceited, that none of the princes who came to ask her in marriage was good enough for her, and she only made sport of them.
Once upon a time the king held a great feast, and asked thither all her suitors; and they all sat in a row, ranged according to their rank—kings, and princes, and dukes, and earls, and counts, and barons, and knights. Then the princess came in, and as she passed by them she had something spiteful to say to every one. The first was too fat: ‘He’s as round as a tub,’ said she. The next was too tall: ‘What a maypole!’ said she. The next was too short: ‘What a dumpling!’ said she. The fourth was too pale, and she called him ‘Wallface.’ The fifth was too red, so she called him ‘Coxcomb.’ The sixth was not straight enough; so she said he was like a green stick, that had been laid to dry over a baker’s oven. And thus she had some joke to crack upon every one: but she laughed more than all at a good king who was there. ‘Look at him,’ said she; ‘his beard is like an old mop; he shall be called Grisly-beard.’ So the king got the nickname of Grisly-beard.
But the old king was very angry when he saw how his daughter behaved, and how she ill-treated all his guests; and he vowed that, willing or unwilling, she should marry the first man, be he prince or beggar, that came to the door.
Two days after there came by a travelling fiddler, who began to play under the window and beg alms; and when the king heard him, he said, ‘Let him come in.’ So they brought in a dirty-looking fellow; and when he had sung before the king and the princess, he begged a boon. Then the king said, ‘You have sung so well, that I will give you my daughter for your wife.’ The princess begged and prayed; but the king said, ‘I have sworn to give you to the first comer, and I will keep my word.’ So words and tears were of no avail; the parson was sent for, and she was married to the fiddler. When this was over the king said, ‘Now get ready to go—you must not stay here—you must travel on with your husband.’
Then the fiddler went his way, and took her with him, and they soon came to a great wood. ‘Pray,’ said she, ‘whose is this wood?’ ‘It belongs to King Grisly-beard,’ answered he; ‘hadst thou taken him, all had been thine.’ ‘Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!’ sighed she; ‘would that I had married King Grisly-beard!’ Next they came to some fine meadows. ‘Whose are these beautiful green meadows?’ said she. ‘They belong to King Grisly-beard, hadst thou taken him, they had all been thine.’ ‘Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!’ said she; ‘would that I had married King Grisly-beard!’
