The Swineherd 猪倌

once there was a poor prince. he had a kingdom; it was very tiny. still it was large enough to marry upon, and on marriage his heart was set.
now it was certainly rather bold of him to say, "will you have me?" to the emperor's own daughter. but he did, for his name was famous, and far and near there were hundreds of princesses who would have said, "yes!" and "thank you!" too. but what did the emperor's daughter say? well, we'll soon find out.
a rose tree grew over the grave of the prince's father. it was such a beautiful tree. it bloomed only once in five long years, and then it bore but a single flower. oh, that was a rose indeed! the fragrance of it would make a man forget all of his sorrows and his cares. the prince had a nightingale too. it sang as if all the sweet songs of the world were in its little throat. the nightingale and the rose were to be gifts to the princess. so they were sent to her in two large silver cases.
the emperor ordered the cases carried before him, to the great hall where the princess was playing at "visitors," with her maids-in waiting. they seldom did anything else. as soon as the princess saw that the large cases contained presents, she clapped her hands in glee. "oh," she said, "i do hope i get a little pussy-cat." she opened a casket and there was the splendid rose.
"oh, how pretty it is," said all the maids-in-waiting.
"it's more than pretty," said the emperor. "it's superb."
but the princess poked it with her finger, and she almost started to cry. "oh fie! papa," she said, "it isn't artificial. it is natural."

"oh, fie," said all her maids-in-waiting, "it's only natural."
"well," said the emperor, "before we fret and pout, let's see what's in the other case." he opened it, and out came the nightingale, which sang so sweetly that for a little while no one could think of a single thing to say against it.
"superbe!" "charmant!" said the maids-in-waiting with their smattering of french, each one speaking it worse than the next.
"how the bird does remind me of our lamented empress's music box," said one old courtier. "it has just the same tone, and the very same way of trilling."
the emperor wept like a child. "ah me," he said.
"bird?" said the princess. "you mean to say it's real?"
"a real live bird," the men who had brought it assured her.
"then let it fly and begone," said the princess, who refused to hear a word about the prince, much less to see him.
but it was not so easy to discourage him. he darkened his face both brown and black, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and knocked at the door.
"hello, emperor," he said. "how do you do? can you give me some work about the palace?"
"well," said the emperor, "people are always looking for jobs, but let me see. i do need somebody to tend the pigs, because we've got so many of them."
so the prince was appointed "imperial pig tender." he was given a wretched little room down by the pigsties, and there he had to live. all day long he sat and worked, as busy as could be, and by evening he had made a neat little kettle with bells all around the brim of it. when the kettle boiled, the bells would tinkle and play the old tune:

"oh, dear augustin,
all is lost, lost, lost."
but that was the least of it. if anyone put his finger in the steam from this kettle he could immediately smell whatever there was for dinner in any cooking-pot in town. no rose was ever like this!
now the princess happened to be passing by with all of her maids-in-waiting. when she heard the tune she stopped and looked pleased, for she too knew how to play "oh, dear augustin." it was the only tune she did know, and she played it with one finger.
"why, that's the very same tune i play. isn't the swineherd highly accomplished? i say," she ordered, "go and ask him the price of the instrument."
so one of the maids had to go, in among the pigsties, but she put on her overshoes first.
"what will you take for the kettle?" she asked.
"i'll take ten kisses from the princess," said the swineherd.
"oo, for goodness' sakes!" said the maid.
"and i won't take less," said the swineherd.
"well, what does he say?" the princess wanted to know.
"i can't tell you," said the maid. "he's too horrible."
"then whisper it close to my ear." she listened to what the maid had to whisper. "oo, isn't he naughty!" said the princess and walked right away from there. but she had not gone very far when she heard the pretty bells play again:
"oh, dear augustin,
all is lost, lost, lost."
"i say," the princess ordered, "ask him if he will take his ten kisses from my maids-in-waiting."

"no, i thank you," said the swineherd. "ten kisses from the princess, or i keep my kettle."
"now isn't that disgusting!" said the princess. "at least stand around me so that no one can see."
so her maids stood around her, and spread their skirts wide, while the swineherd took his ten kisses. then the kettle was hers.
and then the fun started. never was a kettle kept so busy. they boiled it from morning till night. from the chamberlain's banquet to the cobbler's breakfast, they knew all that was cooked in town. the maids-in-waiting danced about and clapped their hands.
"we know who's having sweet soup and pancakes. we know who's having porridge and cutlets. isn't it interesting?"
"most interesting," said the head lady of the bedchamber.
"now, after all, i'm the emperor's daughter," the princess reminded them. "don't you tell how i got it."
"goodness gracious, no!" said they all.
but the swineherd-that's the prince, for nobody knew he wasn't a real swineherd-was busy as he could be. this time he made a rattle. swing it around, and it would play all the waltzes, jigs, and dance tunes that have been heard since the beginning of time.
"why it's superbe!" said the princess as she came by. "i never did hear better music. i say, go and ask him the price of that instrument. but mind you-no more kissing!"
"he wants a hundred kisses from the princess," said the maid-in-waiting who had been in to ask him.
"i believe he's out of his mind," said the princess, and she walked right away from there. but she had not gone very far when she said, "after all, i'm the emperor's daughter, and it's my duty to encourage the arts. tell him he can have ten kisses, as he did yesterday, but he must collect the rest from my maids-in-waiting."

"oh, but we wouldn't like that," said the maids.
"fiddlesticks," said the princess, "if he can kiss me he certainly can kiss you. remember, i'm the one who gives you board and wages." so the maid had to go back to the swineherd.
"a hundred kisses from the princess," the swineherd told her, "or let each keep his own."
"stand around me," said the princess, and all her maids-in-waiting stood in a circle to hide her while the swineherd began to collect.
"what can have drawn such a crowd near the pigsties?" the emperor wondered, as he looked down from his balcony. he rubbed his eyes, and he put on his spectacles. "bless my soul if those maids-in-waiting aren't up to mischief again. i'd better go see what they are up to now."
he pulled his easy slippers up over his heels, though ordinarily he just shoved his feet in them and let them flap. then, my! how much faster he went. as soon as he came near the pens he took very soft steps. the maids-in-waiting were so busy counting kisses, to see that everything went fair and that he didn't get too many or too few, that they didn't notice the emperor behind them. he stood on his tiptoes.
"such naughtiness!" he said when he saw them kissing, and he boxed their ears with his slipper just as the swineherd was taking his eighty-sixth kiss.
"be off with you!" the emperor said in a rage. and both the princess and the swineherd were turned out of his empire. and there she stood crying. the swineherd scolded, and the rain came down in torrents.

"poor little me," said the princess. "if only i had married the famous prince! oh, how unlucky i am!"
the swineherd slipped behind a tree, wiped the brown and black off his face, threw off his ragged clothes, and showed himself in such princely garments that the princess could not keep from curtsying.
"i have only contempt for you," he told her. "you turned down a prince's honest offer, and you didn't appreciate the rose or the nightingale, but you were all too ready to kiss a swineherd for a tinkling toy to amuse you. you are properly punished."
then the prince went home to his kingdom, and shut and barred the door. the princess could stay outside and sing to her heart's content:
"oh, dear augustin,
all is lost, lost, lost."