I have loved story of the Goose Girl since I was a little girl. A couple of weeks ago, I read the fairytale again--and a drawing of the brave Princess and her geese flew from my pencil into my sketchbook--yes, if you look closely, there are hearts to be found.
Above is my reference photo. This beautiful lady, my friend Theresa, is one of my best buddies.
Here is my version of the story:
The Goose Girl
Copyright © 2014 by
Beth L. Niquette
There once was a great kingdom
whose kind and generous king died, leaving behind his Queen and their daughter,
who was good and beautiful. Of course,
this girl had a Fairy Godmother who loved her.
When the Princess became a woman, as was the custom, she was betrothed
to a Prince in a faraway kingdom.
One of the most important traditions of the
Prince’s kingdom, was the art of storytelling. All the people, great or small, had a story to tell, and if they didn’t,
they made one up. Each great feast day
was celebrated by the telling of tales.
And happy were those who brought a new yarn to be heard.
Though the Prince and Princess had
never met in person, they wrote many letters back and forth. Having learned of his kingdom's tradition of
storytelling, the Princess worked very hard to learn the stories of her people--and even made up a few of her own to share.
The
tales she wrote in her letters intrigued the heart of the Prince with their
brightness, wit and originality. Over
time, he fell deeply in love with the generous, loving nature of the Princess
who had been promised to him.
Then came the day the Princess was
to leave for the kingdom of her Beloved.
The Queen provided all that was needed for her daughter to make the
journey, including a maidservant. Her
Fairy Godmother gave the princess a talking horse who's name was Falada.
Before the journey, sensing danger, the fairy gave
a lock of her own hair to the Princess and told her to take great care of it,
as it would give her protection. As the handmaiden watched from behind a curtain, the
girl placed the lock of hair into a tiny velvet bag and hid it in her
bosom.
In the tradition of those days, the
Princess and her servant girl were surrounded by many soldiers. But these brave men were not allowed to look upon
the Princess. They were allowed to come near only if there was grave danger afoot. To this end, the Princess wore a long veil
over her face so no man would see her.
Because she was not allowed to speak to any man until her wedding day, the maidservant, also veiled, told the soldiers the wishes of the
Princess as they were made known to her.
Along the journey, the Princess and
Noble Falada became great friends. She
told the horse imaginative, fantastic stories, confiding her thoughts, her
hopes and dreams of true love. She slept
with her head pillowed against the horse's soft side and arose each morning
with joy, knowing she would soon see her Beloved.
But the servant girl was jealous of
her mistress, because of her good fortune to marry a Prince; her
goodness, beauty and her friendship with the faery horse Falada.
As they traveled seemingly endless
miles for many days, there came a subtle change between the servant girl and
the Princess. All became clear one
afternoon, when the Princess became thirsty.
She asked her handmaiden to fetch some water from the creek, using the
golden cup her Fairy Godmother had given to her for the journey.
The maidservant refused, taking the
golden cup for herself. "If you are
thirsty, get off yourself and stoop down to the water and drink." She sneered, "I shall not be your
servant any longer."
The Princess was at loss at the girl's change
of attitude, but she was so thirsty she knelt down and used her hands to drink
from the stream's edge. She cried,
"Alas, what shall I do,"
As time passed, the evil
handmaiden's attitude became more and more insolent. One day, as the Princess knelt to drink, the
tiny bag containing the protective lock of hair fell into the waters and
floated away. The maidservant observed
this and knew the Princess was in her power.
Under cover of darkness, the errant
maid forced the Princess exchange clothing with her and the next morning she took
Falada as her own, giving her mistress an ordinary horse to ride instead.
The handmaiden had threatened to end Falada's
life, holding a long slim dagger next the heart of the faery horse. So to save her friend's life, the Princess
held her silence and performed the duties of a servant. As for Falada, the evil maid told the horse she would kill the Princess if even one word was said.
The maidservant then endeavored to
befriend Falada, carrying tempting bits of carrots and apples in her
pockets. But the faery horse spurned the
offered treats and spoke not. This and
the consistently kind response of the Princess, regardless of how she was
treated, did nothing to win the servant girl's heart. And so, her hatred and jealousy of the
Princess grew.
As they approached their journey's
end, the treacherous servant threatened to kill the Princess if she told anyone
what had happened. But Falada the noble horse, saw all and held her tongue,
patiently waiting to speak of all that had come to pass.
When they arrived, before Falada
could say one word, the Prince, believing the maidservant to be his bride,
lifted her from the faery horse and bore her into his castle.
Alas, to keep Falada from speaking
the truth, the evil handmaiden immediately had the noble horse killed.
The next thing the false princess
did was to instruct the servants to put the real Princess to work at hard
labor, but alas they could not find much for her to do. At last, she was given the job of helping a
young lad take care of the royal geese.
The name of the boy was Curdken.
When the true Princess discovered
her friend had died, she tearfully begged the palace guardsman to place Falada's
head over the outer gate, so she could see her faithful friend each day as she drove
the flock of royal geese beneath it. The guard took pity upon the lovely girl and did
as she wished.
Now the Prince's father, the old
King often amused himself sitting at his castle window, watching the townsfolk
below as they moved through their day.
He immediately noticed the Princess who, despite her shabby clothing was
as kind and dignified, as she was beautiful.
He wondered over the newcomer, comparing her genteel manners and sweet
attitude to the arrogant and rude bearing of the false princess.
And it came to pass, early the next
morning, as the Princess and Curdken drove the geese out through the gate, she
looked upward to her old friend and said sorrowfully, "Falada, Falada,
there you hang."
To the lad's astonishment, the dead
horse answered, "Princess, beautiful bride, there you go. Alas, alas! If your mother knew it. Sadly sadly would she rue it."
Then the two drove the flock of
geese from the city to a great green meadow starred with white flowers. Mid-morning when the geese were napping in
the tall grass, the Princess sat upon a rock, to let down her hair, which
gleamed as pure gold. When Curdken saw
her hair glittering in the sunlight, he stepped close, intending to pull a few
strands of shining gold for himself.
But as he drew near, the Princess
called, "Blow, breezes blow. Let
Curdken's hat go. Blow breezes, blow.
Let him after it go. O'er hills, dales and rocks, away it be whirled, till my
golden locks are all combed and curled."
To the lad's utter frustration
there came a wind, so strong it blew his hat from his head and he was obliged
to chase it. By the time he returned,
she was done combing and curling her hair into a thick gleaming braid.
At the end of the day, the Princess
again spoke to Falada, and the faithful beast replied in the same manner as it
had that morning. The next day went much
as the first. The Princess greeted the
horse head on the gate and it answered.
Once they arrived at the meadow and the geese were settled, she would
let down her hair. The moment Curdken
tried to get close, away flew his hat.
And so it went on, day after day, week after week.
Curdken's frustration faded in
time, because the girl was kind to him and won him with her imaginative yarns
and winsome ways. So the boy, now
suspecting there was much more to her story, found a way to speak to the old
King.
The King was more than happy to
listen to the boy's strange tale and decided to see what was happening for himself. The King followed along the next
morning and watched all that came to pass.
When the little Goose Girl returned that evening the king took her
aside, and asked her about what he'd seen.
The Princess burst into tears and said,
"I cannot tell anyone, or I shall lose my life."
But the King was so sympathetic she
was finally persuaded to tell the tale of her false maid servant. The king was
outraged and ordered royal raiment to be put upon her. Then he called for his son. Placing the girl's hand into that of the
Prince, the King told him the tale of the false handmaiden.
The Prince, who had been greatly
put off by the bad attitude and rude behavior of the servant girl--so different
from the dear lady he'd learned to love through her letters--rejoiced when he
saw the Princess's sweet smile and noted her wonderful kindness and patience. Then, holding her hand fast in his, he said, “Tell
me a story.” And with sparkling eyes,
she did.
Without saying a word to the
false bride, the King then ordered a great feast to be held to honor his son's
upcoming marriage. The bridegroom sat at the head of the table, with the false
princess on one side and the true one on the other. Oddly enough, the evil handmaiden did not
recognize the Princess in her new finery.
When everyone had eaten and were
merry with drink, the King clapped his hands for the crowd's attention and rose
to his feet. Because it was a rare occasion, all the people became quiet
in anticipation of a grand tale.
Then the old king told the story of
the Goose Girl. Then he paused, looking out over the crowd. New stories were greatly appreciated, but alas, this tale had no good ending, or justice
to speak of. The crowd shouted for more. "This can’t be all there is. We must know the end," they cried.
But the King resumed his seat and
was silent until the crowd quieted.
Thoughtfully stroking his silver beard, the King asked the false bride
what should be done with the handmaiden in the story who had committed such an
offense against her mistress.
Said the false princess with an
imperious wave of her hand, "Nothing better than this false woman should
be stripped of every possession, and cast into the stocks for a week. Allow the people of the kingdom to punish her
by throwing rotten vegetables at her person, then banish her from the kingdom
for the rest of her life. "
"You are this despicable,
false maidservant," shouted the King leaping to his feet, pointing to the
guilty servant girl. "And as you
have judged yourself, so shall it be done to you." And so it was.
The Princess's Fairy Godmother,
hearing of faithful Falada's sad demise, visited the happy couple and restored
the noble faery horse to life. Thus the
Prince was married to his true Princess.
As for Curdken, the boy became a
dear friend to the Prince and Princess, serving them well for the rest of their
lives. And of course, they all lived happily ever after. (grin)
The Goose Girl, Copyright © 2014 by
Beth L. Niquette
I know--the ending of my tale is a bit less, er, macabre than the actual fairytale. I just couldn't stomach the cruel punishment found in the original tale--that the evil maid servant should be thrown into a cask stuck round with sharp nails, and dragged through the city by two white horses, until dead. Eeeeek! I think rotten fruit and banishment is a MUCH better solution. LOL
Have a lovely day and Happy Guest Heart Thursday!
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