She ran to see who it was outside, but when she opened the door she spotted the frog. So she slammed the door shut and went back to her seat at the table, trembling with fear. The king noticed that her heart was beating fast, and said, “My child, what’s the matter? Is there a giant at the door who wants to drag you off?”
“Oh, no,” she replied, “it’s no giant, just a disgusting frog.”
“What does the frog want from you?”
“Oh, Father dear, yesterday, when I sat by the spring in the forest playing with my golden ball, it fell into the water. And hearing me crying bitterly, the frog dove down and fetched it, and since he insisted, I promised he could be my mate, but I never thought he’d be able to wiggle his way out of the water. So now he’s waiting outside and wants to come in.”
Then the frog started knocking again and cried:
“Little princess, let me in,
Don’t you recall
What you said by the spring
When you lost your ball,
Your favorite plaything?
Little princess, let me in!”
Then the king said, “A promise is a promise. Go now and let him in.”
So she went and opened the door, and the frog hopped in and followed hot on her heels all the way to her little chair. He sat there and said, “Pick me up, princess.” She hesitated, until finally the king made her do as the frog asked. And once he was on her chair, he wanted to be put on the table, and no sooner was he seated there than he said, “Now push your little golden plate toward me, so that we may eat together,” which she did, though you could tell she didn’t do it gladly. The frog ate with gusto, but every bite the princess took stayed stuck in her pretty throat. Finally he said, “I’ve eaten my fill and now I’m tired. Take me to your little room and fold down your silken bedcover. We’ll take a little nap together.”
The king’s daughter started crying, afraid of the cold frog, whom she didn’t dare touch and who now wanted to sleep in her clean and lovely little bed.
But the king got angry and said, “You dare not scorn him now, he who helped you when you were in need.” Then he grabbed the frog with two fingers, carried him upstairs, and set him in a corner of her room. But when she lay in bed, the frog came crawling over and said, “I’m tired, princess, and want to sleep just like you do – pick me up or I’ll tell your father.”
Whereupon she flew into a bitter rage, picked him up, and flung him against the wall with all her might. “Enough is enough, you disgusting frog!”
But when he fell down, he was a frog no more, but a prince with beautiful and friendly eyes. And by her father’s will they were wed. Then he told her how a witch had cast an evil spell on him, and nobody could have freed him from the spring but she alone. Tomorrow, he said, they would ride back to his realm.
Then they fell asleep, and the next morning when they were awakened by the first rays of sunlight, a carriage came rolling up drawn by eight white horses with peacock feathers on their heads, attached by golden chains, and in the coachman’s box sat the young king’s servant, Faithful Henry. Faithful Henry was so upset to see his master turned into a frog that he’d had three iron bands strung around his heart so that it wouldn’t burst in pain and sorrow. The carriage had come to take the young king back to his kingdom. Faithful Henry lifted them both into the rig and climbed back into the coachman’s box, overjoyed at the prince’s deliverance from the evil spell. And after they’d driven for a while, the prince heard a crack, as though something had broken. So he turned around and cried: “Henry, the wagon’s breaking.”
“No, sire, it’s my heart no longer aching,
A band has burst
To see you no more cursed,
The frog’s hide you shed
When the princess took you to bed.”
Again, and then again, something cracked along the way, and each time the prince thought it was the wagon breaking, but it was just the bands around Faithful Henry’s heart bursting to see his master at last released from the spell, hale and happy with his lovely bride.
THE WHITE SNAKE
Long, long ago there lived a king renowned far and wide for his wisdom. There was nothing he didn’t know about, and it was as if the knowledge of the most obscure things were reported to him through thin air. But he had one curious custom. Every day after the midday meal, when all the dishes were cleared from the table and everyone else had dispersed, a trusted servant had to bring him a bowl. But it was covered with a lid and even the servant had no idea what it contained, and not a soul knew the secret, for the king would not lift the lid and eat from it until he was all alone. This had been going on for quite some time, when, one day, as soon as the king was done, while carrying off the bowl, curiosity got the better of the servant, who brought the bowl to his room. Once he had locked the door behind him, he lifted the lid and saw a white snake curled up in the bottom of the bowl. As soon as he caught sight of it he could not resist the temptation to take a bite, so he cut off a little piece and put it in his mouth. But no sooner did it touch his tongue than he heard outside the window a strange whispering of faint voices. He poked his head out the window and pricked up his ears, and fathomed that it was the sparrows chattering, telling each other all that they had witnessed flying over field and forest. That snippet of snake had granted him the ability to understand the language of animals.