Prince Hat Under the Ground

Prince Hat Under the Ground

Once (a long, long time ago) there was a king who had three daughters, and they were all so lovely that you would never find anyone lovelier, look where you might. But the youngest of the princesses was held the first, both for her beauty and, still more, for her goodness and tender heart. So the people grew to love her, and the king himself loved her more than his other daughters. 

Now one autumn day there happened to be a market in a town not very far from the king's castle, and the king himself planned to go there with his retinue. When he was about to set off, he asked his daughters what each of them would like as a gift from the market. The two eldest princesses at once began to make lists of every sort of precious article. One of them would have this, and the other would have that... But the youngest princess didn't ask for anything at all. The king wondered at this, so he asked her, wouldn't she too like to have some little knick-knack or finery? She answered that she already had more than enough of gold and valuables. But at last she said, in response to the king's eager queries:

"I do know of one thing that I would gladly have, if I only dared ask for it!"

"What can it be?" asked the king. "Just name it, and if it lies within my power then you shall have it!"

"Well," said the princess, "I have heard people speak of the three singing leaves, and I would rather have them than anything else in the world."

Now the king smiled, because he considered this a paltry request, and he said:

"Well, no-one can say that you're too demanding! To be honest I had rather you had asked me for some greater gift. But you shall have your wish, even if it costs me half my land and kingdom." 

And with that he bade a hearty farewell to his daughters, leapt on his horse and rode off with his followers. 

Now when he got to the town where the market was being held, a crowd had gathered from all parts, and there were many foreign traders who offered their goods for sale in the streets and squares. Thus there was no lack of gold, silver and other precious articles. There was all one could wish for, and the king shopped liberally for his daughters. But though he visited every booth, and though he combed through every shelf, and though he asked traders from the east and traders from the west, there was no-one who knew anything about the three singing leaves that he had promised his youngest daughter. 

He was very sorry about this, because he wished to bring her the same happiness he was bringing to the others. But when there was no help for it and dusk was falling, he saddled his horse, gathered his men together and set off home in an ill humour.  

Just as he was travelling along the road, deep in thought, he suddenly heard a sound as of harps and stringed instruments, and it was so marvellously beautiful that he had never heard anything like it in his whole life. He wondered greatly at this, so he reined in his horse and sat listening, and the longer he listened the lovelier the song became.

But the evening was dark, so he couldn't see where the sound was coming from. So he hesitated no longer but rode in to a large green meadow from which the music seemed to issue, and the further he rode the clearer and lovelier the song became. 

When he had advanced some little way he saw a hazel bush, and on the crown of the bush there were three golden leaves that moved hither and thither, and as they moved there came forth a sound and a melody that none may describe.  

Now the king was very glad, for he realized that these were the three singing leaves that his daughter had spoken of. So he went to break them off, but as soon as he reached out his hand they drew away from him, and a loud voice came from underneath the bush: 

"Let my leaves alone!"

The king was much astonished at first, but he soon collected himself and asked who it was that spoke, and whether he might not buy the leaves for gold or for good words.

"I am Prince Hat Under the Ground," replied the voice, "and you cannot have my leaves, either for evil or for good, except on this one condition: that you promise me the first life you meet with when you return to your domain."

The king thought this a strange request, but he remembered the promise he made to his daughter, so he agreed to the prince's terms. 

Now the leaf-shoots no longer pulled away, and he was able to snap them off. Then he started gladly for home and for his loved ones. But the whole time he rode the leaves continued to sing, and the horses danced for joy, and the king's homecoming resembled a victory march more than a market trip. 

During the time the king had been absent the princesses had been sitting all day and sewing at their frames and talking of nothing but the precious gifts their father would be carrying with him from the market. Towards evening the youngest princess asked if they mightn't walk out on the road along which their father would approach.

"No," her sisters replied, "why should we do that? It's already late, and the night dew would damage our silk stockings."

But the youngest princess didn't care about her silk stockings, so she said they could stay put, for she could go alone to meet her father. She put on her coat and went out along the road. But she hadn't walked very far, when she heard the tramping of horses and the din of men and weapons and, in the midst of all this, the loveliest of songs. 

Then she was very glad, for she realized it was her father approaching, and that he had the three singing leaves she had asked him for. Now she ran up to him and swung herself into his arms and bade him welcome. 

But when the king saw who it was he was utterly horrified, for he thought about the promise he had sworn to Prince Hat, and how he had now sworn away his own child. He could neither speak nor answer for a long while, though the princess begged and implored him to tell her the cause of his sorrow.

At last he told her what had taken place, and how he had promised to give away the first life that met him within his domain. Now there was lamentation and sorrow beyond any other, and the king was the most sorry of all, but the end of it was that he went back to the meadow and left his daughter beside the hazel bush. And he thought now that the loss he suffered could never be made good. 

Now the abandoned princess sat alone by the bush and wept bitterly. But she hadn't been sitting there long before the ground suddenly opened, and she came down into a grand room under the ground, and this room was far more splendid than any she had seen, and was decorated with both gold and silver. But no person appeared. 

The princess almost forgot her sorrow when she saw all this magnificence, and when at last she grew tired she laid herself down to rest in a bed whose cover and hangings were whiter than snow. 

But she had not been lying there long before the door opened and there entered a man who walked right up to the bed and gave her a friendly and warm welcome. It was he who ruled over this room, for he was Prince Hat. He told her that a spell had been cast on him by a wicked troll-woman, which meant he could never show himself to any person. Therefore he could only visit her in the night when it was dark. But if she would be loyal to him, it would all turn out well in the end. He stayed with her right through till sunrise. Then he went away, and didn't come again until late in the evening. 

And so it went on for a long time afterwards. The princess sat in the lovely room every day, and if she felt sad, she only had to listen to the singing leaves to feel glad again. 

Before a year was past she had a little boy child, and now she felt that her life was good. All day she nursed and played with her little son and longed for her husband. 

But one evening he came home later than usual. She asked him anxiously where he had been so long. 

"Well," he said, "I've come from your father's castle, and now I have something notable to tell you, for the king has found himself a new queen, and if you like, you can go home for the wedding and take our little boy with you." 

She wanted to go very much, and she thanked him sincerely. 

"But one thing you must promise me," he said, "that you never let yourself be tempted to betray your loyalty to me."

Yes, she promised him that. 

The next morning the princess put on fine clothes and splendid jewels for attending the wedding. When everything was ready, there came forth a gilded coach, and she sat herself in it with her little son. Then it drove off over mountains and dales, and she hardly had time to speak another word before they arrived at their destination. 

Now when the princess stepped into the wedding hall where the guests were already assembled, you can imagine what happiness there was. The king got up from his seat of honour and gathered her in his arms with great joy. Thus also did his consort and the two princesses, and everyone bade her a hearty welcome to her land again. 

Now when the first greetings were over, both the king and the queen began to ask the princess of this and that. But above all the queen wished to know about Prince Hat, who he was, and what her life with him was like. But the princess replied little to this, and it was easy to see that she didn't want to talk about it. But now the queen became all the more curious. Finally the king became vexed and said:

"My dear love, what has it got to do with us? It's enough that my daughter is content and happy."

Then the queen was silent, but as soon as the king turned his back she carried on with her persistent questions. 

Now when the wedding had lasted many days, the princess started to yearn for home again. At once the coach came forth again, and after she had said farewell to her relatives she went on her way with her little son over mountains and dales, until she came to the green bush. Then she stepped out and so came down into the house under the ground. And the leaves played so beautifully, and she thought it was much better under the ground than in the king's castle. And she became still more glad in the evening,  when Prince Hat came home, and told her how his thoughts never left her, either by night or day. 

Some time thereafter the princess gave birth to another little son. Now she felt that she was yet more happy than before, and every day she played with her little ones. One evening the prince came home later than usual, and when the princess asked him anxiously why he'd been delayed so long, he replied:

"Well, I've come from your father's castle and can now tell you that your eldest sister's going to get married to a foreign prince, and if you like, you can go home for the wedding and take our children with you."

The princess wanted to go very much, and she thanked him sincerely. 

"But one thing you must promise me," he said, "that you never let yourself be tempted to betray your loyalty to me."

The princess promised him. 

The next morning she took her children with her and went to the king's castle. When she stepped into the wedding hall, where the guests were already gathered, there was much gladness. Everyone embraced her and welcomed her and there was no end to their expressions of joy at seeing her again. 

Now the queen once more began to question her stepdaughter about her husband and how she got on at home, but the princess did not say much in response to her questions, and in the end the king had to ask her to leave the princess in peace, since she was content and happy, and the rest was no concern of others, he said.  

When the wedding was over, the princess yearned for home again. So she took her little ones and went away. And she was so glad and happy, when she stood once more in the house under the ground, and she was still happier in the evening, when Prince Hat came home, and when he said how all his thoughts were of her. 

Some time afterwards the princess gave birth to a little daughter, the loveliest baby one could ever see. Now the princess considered her happiness so great that scarcely anything was wanting. One evening, when the prince came home later than usual, he told her how he had been to her father's castle and that her other sister was now to be married to a foreign king's son. 

"If you wish," he said, "you can go home and take the children with you."

The princess thanked her husband for always thinking of her happiness. Then the prince answered:

"But one thing you must promise me, not to betray your loyalty to me, for that would bring great unhappiness to both of us."

The princess promised.

 

The next day she travelled with her three little children to the king's castle, and when she came into the king's hall the guests were assembled and the wedding celebrations were already in full swing. There was great joy when she stepped in, and all bade her a hearty welcome. 

Once again her stepmother began questioning her about her husband, but when she saw that the princess was on her guard, she tried a trick to get at what she wanted to know. So she began to speak of the princess's three small children playing on the hall floor, saying how nice they were, and how happy she must be to have such children. They must surely take after their father, she added, and Prince Hat must be a very handsome young man. 

Well, they carried on talking, and the princess was enticed by this false speech into finally letting slip that she didn't know if the prince was handsome or ugly, for she had never seen him. 

The queen clapped her hands together in surprise, and loudly lamented the prince, and that he should keep any secret from his wife. 

"And," she said, "I must say you're very different from other women, since you haven't found out the truth of it."

Now the princess forgot all about her husband's warning and told everything she knew, and asked her stepmother for her advice, and how she might contrive to see her husband. Then the queen promised to think of some means before they parted from each other.  

When the wedding was over and the princess was about to go home, her stepmother took her aside and said:

"I'm giving you this ring, and a fire-steel with a flint, and a candle. If you want to see what your husband looks like, get up in the night, make a flame through the ring and light the candle. But be very careful not to wake him."

The princess thanked her very much for the gift and promised to do as her stepmother advised. Then she went on her way. Now when she came home she felt ill at ease, no matter how the leaves played and how beautiful everything was.

Late in the evening the prince came home, and now there was great joy, and he told her how he had longed for her. When they lay down and the prince was asleep, the princess got up, struck a flame through the ring and slowly drew near to the bed to see her beloved. And how glad she was, when she saw how handsome he was! She gazed and gazed, and forgot about everything else as she gazed at him.

But just as she was leaning over him, it chanced that a drop of hot wax ran down from the candle and fell on his breast, so that he stirred. Now the princess grew frightened and instantly tried to blow out the candle -- but it was too late, for the prince awoke, sprang up in terror and saw what she had done.

In the same moment the three singing leaves fell silent, the beautiful room was transformed into a den of snakes and toads, and the prince and princess remained alone with their small children in the darkness of the night. And Prince Hat was -- blind. 

Now the princess bitterly regretted what she had done, and she fell down on her knees and begged him, weeping, to forgive her. Then the prince answered:

"Poorly have you repaid all the love I cherished for you. I forgive you in any case, and now you must decide for yourself if you will follow your blind husband, or return once more to your father."

At these words the princess became still more distressed, and wept so that her tears trickled down upon the earth. 

"You have not forgiven me in your heart," she said, "if you can ask whether I will go with you, because as long as I live in this world I will follow you."

With that she took him by the hand, and they went away from the place that had been their home. Now the princess wandered with her three children and her blind husband, and tried to find a way through the bewildering wood. 

When they had been wandering a long time, they finally came upon a green path that went onward through the wilderness. Then the prince asked:

"My heart's desire, do you see anything?"

"No," answered the princess, "I see nothing, only woodland and green trees."

They went on a while. Then the prince asked again, if she saw anything.

"No," she answered as before. "Only the green wood."

After a while the prince asked for the third time, if she still did not see anything. 

"Why, yes," she answered, "I think I see a large house, and its roof gleams as if it were made of copper."

"Then we have arrived at my elder sister's farm," he said. "Now you must go in and greet her from me, and beg her to take our eldest son and foster him until he comes of age. But I myself must not come under her roof, and nor must you let her come out to see me, for then we would be parted for ever."

The princess went into the farm and carried out her errand, though it stabbed her heart when she had to leave her little son behind. Then she parted from her sister-in-law. And though the prince's sister was eager to meet her brother, the princess didn't dare go against his word, so she had to say no. 

Now the prince and princess continued their journey across wood and waste, until they found a green path leading through the wilds. Then the prince asked, as before, whether she saw anything, and twice she could only reply that she saw nothing other than forest and green trees. But the third time she answered:

"Why yes, I think I see a large house, and its roof gleams, as if it were made of silver."

"Then we have arrived at my second sister's farm," he said. "Go in now and greet her from me, and ask her to take charge of our second son and to foster him until he has grown to manhood. But I myself must not come under her roof, and neither must you let her come here and meet me, for then we would be parted for ever."

The princess did as he said, and left her child, though it stabbed her heart to do it. And however much her sister-in-law begged to come out to her brother, the princess dared not let her. 

Now they continued on their way, until they came once more to a little green path that went through the wood. The prince asked now, as before, whether she saw anything, but it was only when he asked for the third time that she replied:

"Why yes, I seem to see a grand house, and its roof shines like pure gold."

"Then we have come to my youngest sister's farm," said the prince. "Now you must go in, greet her from me and ask her to receive our little daughter and foster her. But I myself must not come under her roof, nor must she come out to me, for then we should be parted for ever."

Now the princess did as he said, and was given a friendly welcome by her sister-in-law. But when the time came to leave the last of her children, it seemed to her that her heart would burst with sorrow, and she forgot the prince's prohibition and everything else in her utter wretchedness. Now her sister-in-law followed after her, without the princess remembering that she was supposed to prevent it. 

When they came out to the prince, his sister fell into his arms and wept bitterly. But when the prince understood that the princess had once more broken her promise to him, he turned pale as a corpse and burst out:

"My heart's desire! This you should not have done."

In the same moment a cloud dropped down from the sky, and the prince disappeared into the air, just as when a bird flies away.

Now the princess and her sister-in-law were beside themselves with despair. The princess wrung her hands and would not let herself be comforted, for now she had lost everything that she held dear in this world. And the prince's sister grieved almost as much.

After a while they began to discuss how they might find him again, for the princess intended to search the whole world for him.

"I can't give you any advice," said his sister, "unless it is to walk to that great mountain you can see behind the woods. Up there lives an old troll-crone whose name is Berta. She is wise in many things, and perhaps she can tell you something."

Now the princess parted from her sister-in-law and started on her lone journey. 

When it grew late and she could walk no further, she saw a little light twinkling on the fellside. Then she quite forgot her tiredness and made her way forward over stocks and stones, until she found a cave high on the mountain, and the cave's door stood open. Within she could see how a whole crowd of small trolls, both men and women, were gathered round the fire, and at the very front sat an old, old woman tinkering with some small thing. She was frightful to behold, low of stature and very aged. The princess realized that she was the old Berta the prince's sister had spoken of. She hesitated no longer, but stepped into the cave and meekly greeted her:

"Good evening, dear mother!"

Then all the small trolls leapt up, for they were very astonished to see a Christian. But the old woman looked up in a friendly way and answered:

"Good evening to you! And who may you be, who comes and brings me such a fair greeting? I have been sitting here for a full five hundred years, but you are the first to do me the honour of calling me 'dear mother'."

Now the princess explained her business, and asked the old woman if she knew anything about a prince called "Prince Hat Under the Ground"? 

"No," answered the troll-crone, "That I don't know. But as you have honoured me by calling me 'dear mother', I will help you nevertheless, for you must know that I have a sister who is twice as old as I am, and maybe she knows something." 

The princess thanked her heartily for her friendliness, and now she stayed in the mountain over night. 

The following morning, at sunrise, the princess did not delay in setting forth once more, and one of mother Berta's pixies went with her to show her the way.

When she took her leave of the old woman, the latter said:

"Good luck with your journey, and I wish you all good things. And as you have done me the honour of calling me 'dear mother', I pray that you will take this spinning-wheel as a memento. So long as you have it you will suffer no want, because it spins as much yarn on its own as any nine others."

The princess thanked her sincerely for the gift, and well she might, for it was made of solid gold. So she parted from the old woman and journeyed all that day. 

Late in the evening they came again to a high fell, and towards the top there glimmered a light like a little star. 

Then the pixie said:

"Now I have shown you the way, as I promised, for here lives grandma's sister. And now it's time for me to go home again." And with that he sprinted off. 

But the princess made her way forward over stocks and stones, until she got up on the fellside and found a cave whose door stood open, so that the light of the fire shone red through the darkness. 

Without hesitating she went into the mountain dwelling and saw that a great crowd of trolls, both men and women, were gathered round the fire. But at the very front sat an old, old woman, who seemed to rule over them all. She was low in stature, ugly to look at and so old that her head rocked back and forth. 

The princess went straight up to the old woman, who she could see was mother Berta's sister, and greeted her politely:

"Good evening, dear mother!"

The trolls sprang up, shocked at seeing a Christian, but the old crone looked at her in a friendly way and answered:

"Good evening to you! Who may you be, who comes with so fair a greeting? I have been sitting here for fully a thousand years, yet no-one before you has ever done me the honour of calling me 'dear mother'."

Now the princess told her business, but the old woman could give her no information. But as the princess had called her 'dear mother' she wished to help her, and would therefore direct her to a sister of hers, who was twice as old as she was. 

The princess thanked her for her friendliness and so stayed the night in the mountain.

The next day, when the princess was to go on her way, the old woman wished her luck on her journey and, in gratitude for calling her 'dear mother', gave her a yarn-winder of purest gold as a friendship gift. 

"And," said the old woman, "as long as you have this yarn-winder you need suffer no scarcity, for on its own it will skein up all the yarn that you spin on your spinning-wheel."

The princess thanked her warmly for the precious gift and went on her way. And one of the old woman's pixies went with her to show her the way. 

Late in the evening they came to a high fell, and on the top sparkled a light like a little clear star. Then the pixie said:

"Now it's time for me to go home again, for up there lives grandma's sister, and now you can find the way yourself." 

With that he disappeared. But the princess continued, until she reached the top and found a dwelling in the mountain. 

As the door stood open she walked straight in, and then she could see how a great crowd of trolls were gathered round the fire, and right at the front sat an old, old woman. She was hideous to look at, with a long, long nose that met her chin, and so old that her head nodded back and forth. 

"Good evening, dear mother!" said the princess politely. 

The trolls sprang up in fright, but the old woman greeted her in a friendly way. 

"Good evening to you! Who may you be, who comes here and greets me so nicely? I have been sitting here for fully two thousand years, and yet no-one has ever done me the honour of calling me 'dear mother!'"

Now the princess asked, if she knew anything about a bewitched prince, who was called Prince Hat Under the Ground?

Then the old woman became very grave and pondered for a long time. In the end she said:

"Yes, I have heard him spoken of, and I can tell you where he is, but it is not very likely you will ever get him back, for he lies under a spell and has forgotten you as well as everything else. But as you have done me the honour of calling me 'dear mother', I will help you as much as I can. Stay here for the night, and then we can talk about it in the morning."

The princess stayed over night, and the next morning when she was about to go on her way, the old woman said:

"Now from here you must walk straight towards the sun, and you will come in the end to a big castle. There you must go in and do everything I tell you, for there dwells the prince."

Then she gave her much good advice about how she should act,  wished her good luck on the journey, and gave her as a memento and friendship-gift a splendid silk purse that was embroidered throughout with the reddest gold. 

"But," she said, "this is not a common purse, for this purse is always full of silver coins, no matter how much you take out of it. 

The princess thanked her sincerely for the gift, and so she wandered on further through many great forests, until she came to a big, big castle, which was so grand that she had never seen its like. Now she felt very glad to be so near to her dearest one, and she went in. But just as she opened the castle door, she saw a stately woman come walking towards her, and from the splendid clothes the princess knew that here was the queen who ruled over this domain. 

"Who are you, and where do you come from?" she asked the princess. 

"I am no other than a poor foreigner, who comes here to seek work," replied the princess.

"I see," replied the troll, "and I suppose you think that I have work for each and everyone who comes and goes! Not a bit of it, be off at once!"

And when she said this the old witch looked so grim that the princess was afraid. 

"If it is so," she said humbly, "I must be content. But I beg for lodging for a few days, so I can rest after my long journey."

"Yes, you can have that," said the troll. "You can lie in the goose-house. That's a fitting lodging for people like you." 

And so it was. Now when the princess was alone she did as the old woman of the mountain had advised her. First she scoured and polished and swept every cranny, so it became really nice. Then she took out her spinning-wheel, and spun the most splendid of yarns, both gold and silk, and then she skeined them, and then she wove them, and thus at last she clad the whole room with golden cloths and with the magnificent tapestries she had woven. Now the goose-house was for a while transformed into the most splendid room in the whole castle. 

Then she took out her silk purse, and went out and bought food and mead and wine, and everything else that money could buy, and then she cooked and roasted and set forth such a banquet as none of us has ever tasted. 

Afterwards she went up to the castle and asked to speak with the queen. The witch received her in a friendly manner and asked what she wanted. 

"Well," said the princess, "my business is, I want to beg you and your daughter to do me the great honour of being my guests this evening." 

This appealed to the old witch very much, for she had been informed of all the preparations that were going on down in the goose-house. So she promised to come. 

In the evening, when the queen and her stepdaughter came down to the goose-house, they were received with much politeness. While they sat at table and ate and drank and made merry, the princess took out her golden spinning-wheel and began to spin. Then the witch was much astonished, and she thought it a far greater treasure than any she had seen before. So she asked if she might not purchase the spinning-wheel. 

"No," said the princess, "I will not sell it for money, and neither will I give it to you for free. But I will give it up on one condition."

"What condition is that, then?" asked the old witch eagerly. 

"Well," the princess replied, "It's this: that I meet with your beloved at night."

The witch thought this over for a good while, but by now she wanted the spinning-wheel at any cost, and since she was full of deceit she thought she could go along with it this time. So she had the spinning-wheel. 

Now the old witch returned to the castle and thought of nothing else but how to arrange it so that the prince and the foreign woman wouldn't be able to talk to each other. Accordingly she ordered her stepdaughter to remain secretly in the prince's bedroom to hear what the foreign woman had to say. 

Then she filled a goblet with mead, mixed strong herbs into the drink and offered it to the prince, with the result that, as soon as he drained the goblet, he sank into a trance and neither heard nor saw anything. Then the witch laughed within her false heart, and brought the princess into the bedchamber, thinking that now she might talk with the prince just as much as she wished.

When the princess was alone with the prince she ran up to him, fell upon his neck and said how happy she was that she had finally found him. But the prince did not wake up. Then she grew very sad, and told with many loving words how she had wandered through the whole world in search of him. When he still did nothing but sleep, she could only suppose he no longer cared for her. So she fell upon her knees and begged him, weeping bitterly, to forgive her for all her offences. But the sleeping draught was so strong that the prince still didn't stir. However, the witch's stepdaughter heard every word, and she felt so sorry for the foreign woman that she hadn't the heart to betray her to her wicked stepmother. 

Early in the morning the witch came to the prince's chamber to learn how matters stood. Now the princess had no choice but to return to the goose-house, and there she sat with her head in her hands and wept. 

But when the old witch saw that her device had been successful she was very pleased, and she sat spinning all day at the golden spinning-wheel. 

Towards evening the princess dried her tears and prepared a banquet that was even more splendid than the last. Then she went up to the castle and invited the old witch and her daughter.  

Now while they sat and ate and drank that evening, the princess took out her gold yarn-winder and began skeining yarn. The witch was astonished and thought she had never seen such a treasure. So she asked, if she could buy the yarn-winder? But the princess replied that she would neither sell it nor give it away -- except on one condition, and that was, that she should meet with the prince this night as well. The witch agreed to this at once, because she thought she would surely find some means by which the prince and the foreign woman wouldn't be able to talk together. 

Now the witch went home again and told her stepdaughter, just as she had the night before, to hide in the prince's bedchamber and take careful note of what the foreign woman said. Then she filled a goblet with mead, mixed powerful herbs into it and bade the prince drink it. And scarcely had he emptied the goblet than he fell down in a dead faint and could neither hear nor see. Then the witch rejoiced in her false heart, and brought the princess into the prince's room. 

When the old witch had gone away, the princess ran to the prince, fell upon his neck and spoke of all that had happened and how she had sought him over the whole wide world. But no matter how she wept and pleaded he heard nothing -- he just went on sleeping. The witch's daughter, who heard and saw her limitless sorrow, felt such pity for her and the prince, that she began to ponder how she might free them from the power of her stepmother. 

In the morning the princess had to return to the goose-house, and there she sat all day and wept. But the troll-witch was so pleased at how well it had turned out that she did nothing all day but sit skeining yarn with her golden yarn-winder. 

When it was getting towards evening the princess dried her tears and began to prepare a banquet even more magnificent than the previous ones, and then she went up and invited the witch and her daughter.

While they were eating and drinking the princess took out her silk purse and showed how it was always full of money, no matter how much you took out. The witch was utterly amazed and thought that the purse was the greatest treasure she had ever seen, and she asked if she could buy it. But the princess replied that she would neither sell it nor give it away except on one condition, namely that she might speak to the prince at night one more time. 

The witch promised that, and she ordered her stepdaughter to hide as before in the prince's chamber and listen carefully to everything that was said. 

Then she filled a goblet with mead and bade the prince drink. But when he took hold of the goblet he saw the witch's stepdaughter motioning him to be careful. Then he recalled the strange sleep that usually overcame him after one of the witch's drinks. So he raised the goblet and pretended to drink from it, but he secretly threw away the contents when the witch had her back turned. Then he slumped backwards, as if fallen into a deep sleep. 

The witch laughed within her false heart, and now she brought the princess into the room and thought that she was quite welcome to talk with the prince. He wouldn't be able to hear her. 

When the princess was alone with the prince, she fell upon his neck and said how truly glad she was to be able to see him again. But the prince was so bewildered and bound by spells that he didn't understand what she was saying, and he pretended to be asleep. Now the princess became utterly desperate, she wrung her hands and in tears begged his forgiveness for what she had done. And she spoke of their former love, and of all she had to endure while seeking him across the whole wide world. 

Now she wished to die, since he no longer loved her. 

But while she was speaking the prince's memory awoke, so he understood how everything had come about, and how the wicked troll-witch kept him from his beloved. He felt as if he was waking up from a long, heavy dream, and at first he couldn't bring out a single word. But at last he sprang up suddenly and took her in his arms, kissed her and said that she was the one person he held dearest in the whole world. Now came a joy and happiness so great, that it far exceeded the distress and sorrow they had suffered before. 

Now while they held each other in their arms and forgot everything else in their gladness at having finally found each other, the witch's daughter stepped forth unexpectedly from her hiding place. 

Then the princess became utterly terrified, for she could only suppose that they were lost and that the troll's daughter had betrayed them. But she said to them in a friendly voice:

"Calm yourselves! I won't give you away. Instead I will help you in every way I can."

And then she told them that she herself was of Christian blood, for her father was a prince whom the queen had bewitched. Her father had died of sorrow long ago, and it would be a good thing for them all if her wicked stepmother were also dead, for as long as she lived none of them could expect any happiness. 

When the prince and princess heard this they became very glad and thanked her warmly for her good will towards them. Then they discussed how they might be rid of the witch, and that was no light matter for, as everyone knows, the only way to kill a troll is to scald them to death. 

When everything had been thought through and decided, the stepdaughter crept back into her hiding place, and the prince lay down on the bed and pretended to sleep. After a while the troll came into the bedchamber to fetch the princess and to hear what had taken place. 

Then several days went by, and the princess stayed in the goose-house. But in the castle there was much commotion, for the queen was going to be wed to Prince Hat, and a great number of trolls from both near and far were invited to the banquet. 

Now the preparations were on a simply enormous scale, and the witch had her large cauldron brought forth -- it was so big it could hold eighteen oxen at once. When the fire had been lit and the oxen slaughtered, she sent down to the goose-house to ask the foreign woman how she could make sure the meat was tender and well cooked.  

"Well," answered the princess, "the custom in my country is to make the fire very hot, and to boil the stock until the base of the cauldron is blue." 

The troll-witch thought this was good advice. So she had the fire made three times hotter than before, so the water bubbled high up into the sky. After a while she sent for the princess to check if the bottom of the cauldron was blue yet. The princess came, leant over the brim and looked down into the water, but it still didn't look blue. 

After a while the queen sent for Prince Hat, but he couldn't see any blue either. 

Now the witch grew angry and said that the cauldron was blue enough, if one only looked properly. So she went and looked for herself. But when she went to lean over the cauldron -- Plop! the prince was ready and grabbed her feet and cast her headlong into the scalding hot water. And that was the end of the witch, troll though she was. 

Now the prince and princess thought that it really was not worth waiting until all the guests arrived, so they took the golden spinning-wheel, the gold yarn-winder, the gold purse and many other valuable items and swiftly departed. When they had journeyed a good long way they came at last to a splendid castle that lay and gleamed in the sun. And in the yard of the castle stood a green bush, and as they approached there sounded from it a lovely melody, resembling harps and birdsong. 

Now the princess rejoiced, for she recognized the music: it was the three singing leaves that she had from her father. But her joy was so much the greater when she came right up and saw how her little children and the prince's sisters and many other people came towards them, and the people hailed Prince Hat as their king and the princess as their queen. 

And so they were rewarded for their faithful love, and lived happy and contented for many, many years. And the prince ruled his kingdom with wisdom and manliness, so there was never a king so mighty nor a queen so good.  

And the three singing leaves never ceased to play but sounded day and night, so you never heard a lovelier song, and there was none so full of cares but they became glad when they heard that song. 

*

This is my translation of Prins Hatt under jorden, a fairy tale collected in Småland (or possibly Blekinge) and first published in Svenska folksagor och äfventyr (1844-1849) by Gunnar Olof Hyltén-Cavallius and the expatriate George Stephens (he was born in Liverpool but lived most of his life in Sweden).  

The opening couple of paragraphs made me think for a moment of the folklore bedrock that underlies King Lear. But one of the things I found engaging about Prince Hat is that for most of the story there are no evil characters. The heroine's sisters aren't wicked, the heroine's stepmother is a meddler but no more, and the heroine's trials express more the mixed and recalcitrant nature of existence than a battle with the forces of darkness. It's true that in the final part of the story we do encounter a wicked witch who comes to an appropriately sticky end (very reminiscent of the Grimm brothers' Hansel and Gretel)-- though even she seems a fairly nice wicked witch, as such people go. 

I'm guessing the editors contributed substantially, e.g. to the subtly varied expression in the story's sets of three.

The related Norwegian tale East of the Sun and West of the Moon (Østenfor sol og vestenfor måne) appeared in Asbjørnsen and Moe's Norske Folkeeventyr (1843-44); this is the better-known version in the English-speaking world. It was one of the tales in Andrew Lang's The Blue Fairy Book (1889). Both tales recall "Cupid and Psyche" as narrated in Apuleius' The Golden Ass (2nd century CE). 

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the king's castle

The word I have mostly translated as castle or domain is kungsgård. Gård on its own means a farm, though it can be a grand one, e.g. herregård -- literally gentleman's farm: a country house or country estate. The word kungsgård can mean a large royal residence (such as a castle), or the king's lands, or both at once (as is often the case here). 

*

I'm giving you this ring, and a fire-steel with a flint, and a candle. If you want to see what your husband looks like, get up in the night, make a flame through the ring and light the candle.

This seems a bit garbled. A fire-steel (eldstål) is itself somewhat ring-shaped. This is so you can grip it with one hand and whack it down hard on the flint in the other hand (right next to the tinder).

 

Various forms of eldstål

Use of the eldstål, demonstrated by a Dalarna woman in 1916

[Both images are from the Swedish Wikipedia entry on "Eldstål".]

*

made her way forward over stocks and stones

So far I haven't managed to talk myself out of directly transferring the expression "över stockar och stenar" into English. I know "stocks and stones" is not a very well-established phrase in modern English, but it was pretty common in past times.  Some may remember Milton's sonnet "On the late Massacre in Piemont" -- 

When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones

(see Aaron Taylor's interesting blog post on the topic). To give some other rather random examples, it also occurs in Scott's narrative poem The Lady of the Lake (1810), and even in David Copperfield (1850), when Littimer complains of how Little Em'ly received his infamous proposal:

She had no more gratitude, no more feeling, no more patience, no more reason in her, than a stock or a stone. 

(David Copperfield, Chapter 46) 

In English the expression was mainly used as an image of lifelessness or lack of spirit. Here's one more, Doris in John Vanbrugh's Aesop (1697):

Shield us, kind Heaven: what things are Men in Love?

Now they are Stocks and Stones; then they are Fire and Quicksilver...

(Aesop, Act IV)

Anyway, stock (in both Swedish and English) means a tree-stump or large log. Hopefully readers will get the general feel of difficult terrain.

*

one of mother Berta's pixies

The word is pysslingar. I think it means the same as the "small trolls" (småtrollen) previously seen round the fire. 

I'm using the word "pixies" rather loosely. (One suggestion connects the pixie of Devon and Cornwall with the Swedish dialect word pyske (=pyssling), but there is no consensus favouring this, or any other, theory of pixie's origin.)

*

yarn-winder

The word is härvel, which strictly speaking means a spinner's weasel, as shown in the image below. (There is a theory that this is the weasel in Pop goes the weasel.)  I'm not sure, but I think this kind of yarn-winder (with its mechanical "pop" when a skein is complete) was only invented in the 18th century. It's possible the folktale is talking about its simpler and much more ancient ancestor the niddy-noddy (härvträ). 

A härvel (spinner's weasel), probably from the 19th century

[Image source: https://www.stundars.fi/harvel/ .]

A härvträ (niddy-noddy) from the 19th century

[Image source: https://digitaltmuseum.se/021028409099/harvtra .]

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until she came on top and found a dwelling in the mountain.

The word is bergstuga. Today the word stuga usually means a small house, cottage or cabin (SAOB stuga 2). But here it's being used in the older sense of a room with a fire (SAOB stuga 1). (The word is distantly related to the English word stove.) I think we should conceive the eldest of the old troll-women as living in a mountain cave, just like her sisters. 

*

... she thought she could go along with it this time

... tyckte hon, att det finge väl gå för sig för den här gången

I had some trouble with this! 

finge is the past subjunctive of få. The subjunctive tenses are mere relics in modern Swedish, just like in English (the exceptional persistence of vore in Swedish exactly paralleling the persistence of were in English). But other subjunctives sometimes show up in older texts like this one.

The subjunctive is called the konjunktiv in Swedish.  Here's an interesting article about it by Catharina Grünbaum in Språk tidningen:

https://spraktidningen.se/artiklar/2016/03/leve-dessa-ord-pa-glomskans-avgrund

Like the subjunctive mood of the verb, the word väl implies hesitant supposition. 

Gå för sig is an expression meaning that something will do, is possible or acceptable or appropriate. 

*

witch

The word häxa (witch) does not actually appear in the story. The term that's used most often of the wicked enchantress is käring, which literally means an old woman, but is usually pejorative in tone. (Though the same word is also used of the three helpful troll-women.) Perhaps "hag" would be a more accurate rendering, but I felt that it was too prescriptive, implying a physical ugliness that the story never confirms, and on the whole I felt that a fairy-tale "witch" gave the best idea of her role in the story. (Folklore structuralists may also note that in Apuleius' story of Cupid and Psyche this role is taken by Venus.)