The Daughter of the Spanish King

This was in the years when hens grew horns.

Once upon a time, there lived a king in Spain whose wife had died. He loved the queen dearly and was so grief-stricken by her loss that he vowed never to marry again unless he found a girl who resembled his late wife in every way and for whom the queen's wedding dress would fit perfectly. The queen had been exceptionally beautiful and slender, so the king was convinced he would remain a widower for the rest of his days.

The king had an eighteen-year-old daughter, as beautiful as her mother and very much like her. One day, to amuse herself, she tried on her mother's wedding dress—and what do you know? It fit her perfectly, as if it had been made for her. By chance, the king entered her room at that moment. He immediately rushed to embrace the princess, exclaiming:

"My wife! My wife! I have found my wife again!"

The princess thought her father was joking and laughed, but he was not joking at all. Some people claimed that the grief caused by his wife's death had clouded his mind. Be that as it may, the next day he told the princess that he intended to marry her and spent the entire week pursuing her with his advances, giving her no peace. The poor girl was utterly distraught.

She went to seek advice from an old woman who lived in a humble hut in the neighboring forest.

The old woman told her:

"Do not grieve, my child. I will give you advice and arrange it so that your father will be cured of this absurd passion. Tell him that he must obtain for you a dress the color of the stars."

The princess went home, and when her father again began to speak of his love, she declared:

"First, get me a dress the color of the stars, and then we shall see."

The king sent messengers throughout the capital and then throughout the entire kingdom to cloth merchants and silk traders, ordering them to deliver the most luxurious and beautiful fabrics they could find, at any price. Eventually, they found fabric the color of the stars. It was immediately delivered to the princess. Now the princess was even more bewildered.

She went back to the old woman and said:

"Alas, they have already found fabric the color of the stars for my dress!"

"Well then," replied the old woman, "now tell your father that you also want a dress the color of the moon. Such fabric will be difficult for him to find, and in the meantime, he may come to his senses."

The next day, when the king again spoke of his love, the princess said to him:

"Now, my father, I wish to have a dress the color of the moon."

"You shall have it, my daughter," replied the king, "no matter the cost."

And he sent messengers out again in all directions.

They searched and searched, and after two weeks, they found the fabric, but it was incredibly expensive! The king paid a fortune and, beaming with joy, brought the fabric to his daughter.

Now the princess was completely at a loss, and as soon as it grew dark, she secretly went back to the old woman in the forest for advice.

"Alas," said the princess, "he has managed to get the dress the color of the moon as well!"

"Really? How does he manage it? Well, it doesn't matter. Now demand a dress the color of the sun, and let's see how he handles that."

Again, messengers were sent in all directions, not only throughout the kingdom but beyond its borders, with orders to find fabric the color of the sun. A month passed, then a second, then a third—the messengers did not return. The king began to worry seriously. Eventually, however, even this extraordinary fabric was found, and the king, beside himself with joy, ran to the princess, exclaiming:

"Here it is! This fabric has been found too! Now we shall marry at once!"

"Very well, my father," the princess replied calmly, "you have obtained everything I asked for, and I must keep my word."

But as soon as it grew dark, she once again slipped out of the palace, went to the forest, and told the old woman:

"Alas, I am lost! He has even managed to get the dress the color of the sun for me!"

"How did he manage to find it?" exclaimed the old woman in astonishment. "Now, my poor child, you must leave your father's house. Pack a small chest with all three dresses—the color of the stars, the moon, and the sun—as well as your mother's wedding dress, and leave the house at night. Take the chest with you, but dress very modestly, like the daughters of craftsmen, and hire yourself out as a servant on a farm somewhere in the countryside."

The princess followed the old woman's advice and left her father's palace, taking with her the chest containing the three magnificent dresses and her mother's wedding dress.

When the king discovered the next morning that the princess had disappeared, he wept like a child and sent soldiers in all directions to search for the runaway. A troop of horsemen almost caught up with her, but she hid under a bridge, and the horsemen rode past without noticing her. Soon they passed by again, returning home, and the princess heard them say to each other:

"Why should we continue the search? The princess is indeed much wiser than her father."

Then she left her hiding place and continued on her way. At sunset, she came to an old castle and asked if she could spend the night there. She was so exhausted that they took pity on her and let her in. The castle belonged to a wealthy widow who had only one son.

The next morning, the princess asked if they would hire her as a servant. They took her on to tend the pigs. She spent her days with the pigs in the forest near the castle.

One clear, sunny morning, she took out the dress the color of the stars from the chest she always carried with her and put it on. The young lord of the castle was hunting in the forest at the time, noticed her from afar, and headed toward her. But the princess saw him immediately, quickly took off the dress, and hid it in the chest, which she concealed in the bushes.

When he approached and saw, instead of the beautiful princess he had expected, a grubby pig herder, the young lord, deeply disappointed, waved his hand in annoyance and, without a word, returned to the castle.

The next day, the princess wore the dress the color of the moon. The young lord saw her again and hurried toward her. But once more, she managed to take off the dress and hide it in the chest, which she concealed in the bushes, and the disappointed lord again saw only a grubby pig herder before him.
— Have you by any chance seen a beautiful princess around here just now? — he asked her.

— No, your lordship, — she replied, — I haven’t seen anyone.

And once again, the young man, in great distress, turned back, saying to himself:

"There’s something wrong with this dirty girl who’s tending the pigs. She’s probably not who she claims to be. I need to keep an eye on her."

The next day, the princess put on a dress the color of the sun. She looked so beautiful in it that the birds fluttered and chirped with joy in the branches above her head, and even the piglets squealed in delight: "Oh, oh..."

Meanwhile, the young lord hid behind a large stump and watched the shepherdess; he jumped up and rushed toward her, but tripped and fell into a pit hidden beneath the heather and thick grass.

Once again, the girl managed to take off her dress and hide it in a small chest, which she quickly concealed in the bushes. And the lord once more saw before him the dirty girl tending the pigs. But now he had figured out who she really was, and on his way back to the castle, he began to think about how he might uncover the whole truth.

The lord’s mother wanted him to marry; the castle was expecting the arrival of three noble young ladies who were to spend a few days there. On the eve of their arrival, the lord took his gun earlier than usual and went hunting, explaining that he needed to shoot some game for the guests. In reality, he went to a farmhouse located at the edge of the forest and asked the farmer’s wife for permission to spend four nights and four days on a rickety bed under the stairs in a corner where no light ever reached.

— Good heavens! — exclaimed the farmer’s wife. — But it will be so uncomfortable for you there! I have a good bed with a feather mattress in my bedroom; I’ll put you there instead.

— No, no, — replied the lord, — it’s under the stairs that I want to stay. Tomorrow morning, you’ll go to the castle, say that you’ve taken in a sick beggar woman, and ask for some strong broth for her. If they ask you if you’ve seen me, say no.

And the lord lay down on the bed under the stairs, while the farmer’s wife went to the castle the next day and said to its mistress:

— I’ve come, my lady, to ask for some strong broth for a beggar woman I took in last night — she’s fallen seriously ill.

— Of course, I’ll give you the broth; come for it every day as long as the sick woman is at your farm. But tell me, did you see my son yesterday?

— We see him almost every day, my lady, when he goes hunting or returns from it, but we didn’t see him yesterday.

— Yesterday morning he went hunting as usual and hasn’t returned; it worries me. If you see him, tell him that the ladies we were expecting have already arrived, and he should return to the castle at once.

After receiving the broth, the farmer’s wife went home, accompanied by one of the three ladies, who wanted to visit the sick woman.

— Where is this poor soul? — asked the lady as she entered the house.

— Here, on this bed, under the stairs.

— Good heavens! It’s so dark in here! Bring a candle so I can see her.

— Alas, she’s so ill that she can’t bear the light.

The lady groped her way to the bed and asked:

— How are you feeling, poor thing?

— Bad, very bad, — came a weak, barely audible voice. — Alas, I’ll probably die, but what troubles me most is the thought that I, though unmarried, had a little child whom I killed.

— Don’t let that trouble you; I also had a child by my father’s gardener, and no one ever found out.

She placed a gold coin on the bed and left.

The next day, the farmer’s wife went to the castle again for broth. This time, she returned accompanied by the second lady, who also wanted to visit the sick woman.

— How is your health, poor thing? — she asked.

— Bad, very bad! — came a weak voice. — Alas, I’ll probably die; and what troubles me most is the thought that I, though unmarried, had a little child whom I killed.

— That’s nothing! Why torment yourself over such a trifle! I also had two children, though I’m unmarried; both of them died, and no one ever found out.

She placed two gold coins on the bed and left.

"It’s good to keep all this in mind," thought the young lord.

On the third day, when the farmer’s wife went to the castle again for broth for the supposed sick woman, she returned accompanied by the third lady.

— How is your health, poor thing? — she asked, like the others.

— Bad, very bad! I’ll probably die; and what troubles me most is the thought that I, though unmarried, had a little child whom I killed.

— What a fuss! Why torment yourself over such a trifle! I had three children, all three died, and no one ever found out.

After placing three gold coins on the bed, she left.
"I will remember all of this! And yet, each of them envisions me as their husband!" thought the young lord.

In the morning, he said to the hostess:

"Go to the castle one last time for some broth and ask them to give you a basket of lettuce as well. And have the girl who tends the pigs bring it to the farm."

The hostess went to the castle for the fourth time and returned with the girl who tended the pigs. This girl also asked permission to visit the sick woman.

"How are you feeling, poor thing?" she asked.

"Bad, very bad! I will probably die! And what torments me most is the thought that I had a little child whom I starved to death."

"Are you married?"

"Alas, no!"

"Good heavens! What are you saying? I, the daughter of the Spanish king, disguised myself as a peasant girl, left my father's palace, and went to tend pigs just to avoid sin! But the Lord is kind and merciful; pray to Him with all your heart, and I will pray for you too, and He will forgive you."

With these words, she left.

"Now I have learned what I needed to know," the young lord said to himself.

He jumped out of bed and, in the most cheerful mood, set off for home. On the way, he shot a partridge and brought it to the castle. When he arrived home, his mother threw her arms around his neck and kissed him; all three maidens followed her example. He ordered the partridge to be roasted and told his mother that he wanted to dine in his room in the company of those three maidens.

When the partridge was served, he divided it into six pieces: he placed one piece on the plate of one maiden, two on the second, and three on the third.

"This means," thought the third maiden, "that he has distinguished me above all and will take me as his wife!"

After dinner, he said to them:

"Now, ladies, it's time to dance!"

"Gladly," replied the maidens, "but we have only one gentleman and no musicians."

"Here is the musician under whose violin you will dance, cruel, heartless mothers!" answered the prince, taking down a whip that hung on a nail on the wall.

He swung it and began to lash the maidens with all his might. They started screaming, wailing, and crying.

"Forgive us! Have mercy! Pity us!" they cried.

"Have mercy on you? Did you have mercy on your own children? You killed one, you killed two, and you killed three!"

"That's not true!" they shouted.

"How is it not true? You confessed it to me yourselves! Know that it was I who pretended to be the sick beggar woman to whom you blurted out your secret there at the farm. Get out of here, go back to your parents, and let me never see you again!"

The scoundrels left, burning with shame and drenched in tears.

Then the young lord ordered the girl who tended the pigs to be called.

"My lady," he said, "now you must tell me the whole truth and reveal to me who you are: I now know that you are not who you claim to be."

"Who am I?" replied the girl. "A poor orphan with no one to protect her, who considered it a blessing that you took her here to tend pigs."

"Why pretend any longer? You are the daughter of the Spanish king, and I know why you left your father's palace."

"Who told you that?"

"You did."

"I? When and where?"

"At the farm—it was I who pretended to be the beggar woman lying in the dark under the stairs."

"My God! Is it really true?"

"Absolutely true, just as it is true that I will marry you and no one else."

A letter was immediately sent to the Spanish king. He arrived without delay, and a wedding was held, accompanied by many grand celebrations and splendid feasts.

I was there myself, I twirled and spun; but here's the trouble: I dipped my finger in all the sauces; a big, burly cook passed by and promptly gave me a painful beating, shoved me so hard that I ended up here, and told you this glorious tale.

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The Daughter of the Spanish King

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