When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear, for
she saw plainly that little Snow-white was again alive. “But now,” she
said, “I will think of something that shall put an end to you,” and by
the help of witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous
comb. Then she disguised herself and took the shape of another old
woman. So she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs,
knocked at the door, and cried, “Good things to sell, cheap, cheap!”
Little Snow-white looked out and said, “Go away; I cannot let any one
come in.” “I suppose you can look,” said the old woman, and pulled the
poisonous comb out and held it up. It pleased the girl so well that she
let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they had made a
bargain the old woman said, “Now I will comb you properly for once.”
Poor little Snow-white had no suspicion, and let the old woman do as
she pleased, but hardly had she put the comb in her hair than the
poison in it took effect, and the girl fell down senseless. “You
paragon of beauty,” said the wicked woman, “you are done for now,” and
she went away.
But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven dwarfs came home.
When they saw Snow-white lying as if dead upon the ground they at once
suspected the step-mother, and they looked and found the poisoned comb.
Scarcely had they taken it out when Snow-white came to herself, and
told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more to be upon
her guard and to open the door to no one.
The Queen, at home, went in front of the glass and said—
“Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?”
then it answered as before—
“Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
Snow-white is still alive and well,
And none is so fair as she.”
When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and shook with rage.
“Snow-white shall die,” she cried, “even if it costs me my life!”
Thereupon she went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no one ever
came, and there she made a very poisonous apple. Outside it looked
pretty, white with a red cheek, so that everyone who saw it longed for
it; but whoever ate a piece of it must surely die.
When the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed herself up
as a country-woman, and so she went over the seven mountains to the
seven dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Snow-white put her head out of
the window and said, “I cannot let any one in; the seven dwarfs have
forbidden me.” “It is all the same to me,” answered the woman, “I shall
soon get rid of my apples. There, I will give you one.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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