The king had him summoned into his presence, and he came and again had
his little cap on his head. But the king’s daughter went up to him and
took it off, and then his golden hair fell down over his shoulders, and
he was so handsome that all were amazed. ‘Are you the knight who came
every day to the festival, always in different colours, and who caught
the three golden apples?’ asked the king. ‘Yes,’ answered he, ‘and here
the apples are,’ and he took them out of his pocket, and returned them
to the king. ‘If you desire further proof, you may see the wound which
your people gave me when they followed me. But I am likewise the knight
who helped you to your victory over your enemies.’ ‘If you can perform
such deeds as that, you are no gardener’s boy; tell me, who is your
father?’ ‘My father is a mighty king, and gold have I in plenty as great
as I require.’ ‘I well see,’ said the king, ‘that I owe my thanks to
you; can I do anything to please you?’ ‘Yes,’ answered he, ‘that indeed
you can. Give me your daughter to wife.’ The maiden laughed, and said:
‘He does not stand much on ceremony, but I have already seen by his
golden hair that he was no gardener’s boy,’ and then she went and
kissed him. His father and mother came to the wedding, and were in great
delight, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing their dear
son again. And as they were sitting at the marriage-feast, the music
suddenly stopped, the doors opened, and a stately king came in with a
great retinue. He went up to the youth, embraced him and said: ‘I am
Iron Hans, and was by enchantment a wild man, but you have set me free;
all the treasures which I possess, shall be your property.’
CAT-SKIN
There was once a king, whose queen had hair of the purest gold, and was
so beautiful that her match was not to be met with on the whole face of
the earth. But this beautiful queen fell ill, and when she felt that her
end drew near she called the king to her and said, ‘Promise me that you
will never marry again, unless you meet with a wife who is as beautiful
as I am, and who has golden hair like mine.’ Then when the king in his
grief promised all she asked, she shut her eyes and died. But the king
was not to be comforted, and for a long time never thought of taking
another wife. At last, however, his wise men said, ‘this will not do;
the king must marry again, that we may have a queen.’ So messengers were
sent far and wide, to seek for a bride as beautiful as the late queen.
But there was no princess in the world so beautiful; and if there had
been, still there was not one to be found who had golden hair. So the
messengers came home, and had had all their trouble for nothing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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