For the first time she succeeded well, for the people were glad to buy
the woman’s wares because she was good-looking, and they paid her what
she asked; many even gave her the money and left the pots with her as
well. So they lived on what she had earned as long as it lasted, then
the husband bought a lot of new crockery. With this she sat down at the
corner of the market-place, and set it out round about her ready for
sale. But suddenly there came a drunken hussar galloping along, and he
rode right amongst the pots so that they were all broken into a
thousand bits. She began to weep, and did now know what to do for fear.
“Alas! what will happen to me?” cried she; “what will my husband say to
this?”
She ran home and told him of the misfortune. “Who would seat herself at
a corner of the market-place with crockery?” said the man; “leave off
crying, I see very well that you cannot do any ordinary work, so I have
been to our King’s palace and have asked whether they cannot find a
place for a kitchen-maid, and they have promised me to take you; in
that way you will get your food for nothing.”
The King’s daughter was now a kitchen-maid, and had to be at the cook’s
beck and call, and do the dirtiest work. In both her pockets she
fastened a little jar, in which she took home her share of the
leavings, and upon this they lived.
It happened that the wedding of the King’s eldest son was to be
celebrated, so the poor woman went up and placed herself by the door of
the hall to look on. When all the candles were lit, and people, each
more beautiful than the other, entered, and all was full of pomp and
splendour, she thought of her lot with a sad heart, and cursed the
pride and haughtiness which had humbled her and brought her to so great
poverty.
The smell of the delicious dishes which were being taken in and out
reached her, and now and then the servants threw her a few morsels of
them: these she put in her jars to take home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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