ENGLISH

Jorinda and Joringel

DANSK

Jorinde og Joringel


There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and thick forest, and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all alone. In the day-time she changed herself into a cat or a screech-owl, but in the evening she took her proper shape again as a human being. She could lure wild beasts and birds to her, and then she killed and boiled and roasted them. If any one came within one hundred paces of the castle he was obliged to stand still, and could not stir from the place until she bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden came within this circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker-work cage, and carried the cage into a room in the castle. She had about seven thousand cages of rare birds in the castle.
Now, there was once a maiden who was called Jorinda, who was fairer than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had promised to marry each other. They were still in the days of betrothal, and their greatest happiness was being together. One day in order that they might be able to talk together in quiet they went for a walk in the forest. "Take care," said Joringel, "that you do not go too near the castle."

It was a beautiful evening; the sun shone brightly between the trunks of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and the turtle-doves sang mournfully upon the young boughs of the birch-trees.

Jorinda wept now and then: she sat down in the sunshine and was sorrowful. Joringel was sorrowful too; they were as sad as if they were about to die. Then they looked around them, and were quite at a loss, for they did not know by which way they should go home. The sun was still half above the mountain and half set.

Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the castle close at hand. He was horror-stricken and filled with deadly fear. Jorinda was singing,

"My little bird, with the necklace red,
Sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,
He sings that the dove must soon be dead,
Sings sorrow, sor -- jug, jug, jug."

Joringel looked for Jorinda. She was changed into a nightingale, and sang, "jug, jug, jug." A screech-owl with glowing eyes flew three times round about her, and three times cried, "to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo!"

Joringel could not move: he stood there like a stone, and could neither weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot.

The sun had now set. The owl flew into the thicket, and directly afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow and lean, with large red eyes and a hooked nose, the point of which reached to her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the nightingale, and took it away in her hand.

Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot; the nightingale was gone. At last the woman came back, and said in a hollow voice, "Greet thee, Zachiel. If the moon shines on the cage, Zachiel, let him loose at once." Then Joringel was freed. He fell on his knees before the woman and begged that she would give him back his Jorinda, but she said that he should never have her again, and went away. He called, he wept, he lamented, but all in vain,"Ah, what is to become of me?"

Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange village; there he kept sheep for a long time. He often walked round and round the castle, but not too near to it. At last he dreamt one night that he found a blood-red flower, in the middle of which was a beautiful large pearl; that he picked the flower and went with it to the castle, and that everything he touched with the flower was freed from enchantment; he also dreamt that by means of it he recovered his Jorinda.

In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over hill and dale if he could find such a flower. He sought until the ninth day, and then, early in the morning, he found the blood-red flower. In the middle of it there was a large dew-drop, as big as the finest pearl.

Day and night he journeyed with this flower to the castle. When he was within a hundred paces of it he was not held fast, but walked on to the door. Joringel was full of joy; he touched the door with the flower, and it sprang open. He walked in through the courtyard, and listened for the sound of the birds. At last he heard it. He went on and found the room from whence it came, and there the witch was feeding the birds in the seven thousand cages.

When she saw Joringel she was angry, very angry, and scolded and spat poison and gall at him, but she could not come within two paces of him. He did not take any notice of her, but went and looked at the cages with the birds; but there were many hundred nightingales, how was he to find his Jorinda again?

Just then he saw the old woman quietly take away a cage with a bird in it, and go towards the door.

Swiftly he sprang towards her, touched the cage with the flower, and also the old woman. She could now no longer bewitch any one; and Jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck, and she was as beautiful as ever!
Der lå engang et gammelt slot ude i en stor mørk skov, hvor der boede en gammel kone ganske alene, og hun var en rigtig heks. Om dagen forvandlede hun sig til en kat eller en natugle, og om aftenen blev hun igen til et menneske. Hun lokkede fugle og dyr til sig og slagtede og stegte dem. Når nogen kom så nær til slottet, at der kun var hundrede skridts afstand, måtte han blive stående, uden at kunne røre sig, lige til hun gav ham fri. Når en ren jomfru kom indenfor tryllekredsen blev hun forvandlet til en fugl, og heksen satte hende ned i en kurv og bar hende ind i et værelse i slottet. Hun havde ikke mindre end syv tusind kurve med sådanne fugle.

Nu var der en pige, som hed Jorinde og var smukkere end alle andre piger, og hun havde forlovet sig med en smuk, ung mand, der hed Joringel. De var så glade og lykkelige, for de var lige blevet forlovet, og en dag gik de ud i skoven for rigtig at tale sammen. "Pas på, at du ikke kommer for nær til slottet," sagde Joringel. Det var en dejlig aften. Solens stråler faldt klart gennem det tætte løv og turtelduerne sad oppe i træerne og sang deres sørgelige viser.
Jorinde var tung om hjertet og satte sig ned i det lyse solskin og græd, og Joringel var også underlig sørgmodig. De var så bange, som om de skulle dø, og da de så sig om, vidste de slet ikke, hvor de var, og kunne ikke finde vej hjem. Solen var endnu ikke sunket helt bag bjergene, og da Joringel så gennem krattet, fik han øje på det gamle slot lige i nærheden og blev dødsensangst. Men Jorinde gav sig til at synge:

"Min lille fugl, med ringen rød,
du synger så bedrøvet,
du spår den stakkels dues død,
du synger så - kvivit, kvivit, kvivit -
så synger du bag løvet."

Og da Joringel så sig om efter Jorinde var hun forvandlet til en nattergal og sang: "Kvivit, kvivit." En natugle fløj tre gange rundt om hende og sagde tre gange: "Hututu, hututu, hututu." Joringel kunne ikke røre sig af pletten men stod stiv som en støtte og kunne hverken græde eller tale. Nu sank solen helt, uglen fløj ind i en busk, og straks efter kom en gul, mager, gammel kone med røde øjne og en spids næse, som hang helt ned på hagen. Hun mumlede noget, fangede nattergalen og tog den med sig. Joringel stod der og kunne ikke sige noget og ikke røre sig af stedet, og nattergalen var borte. Langt om længe kom konen tilbage og sagde med hæs stemme: "Hil dig, Zakiel. Når månen skinner i buret, er det tid. Løs ham da."

Så blev Joringel fri. Han faldt på knæ og bad, om hun ville give ham Jorinde tilbage. Men heksen svarede, at han fik hende aldrig mere at se, og gik sin vej, det hjalp ikke, hvor meget han græd og klagede. "Hvad skal der blive af mig," jamrede han og gik langsomt ud af skoven og kom noget efter til en fremmed landsby, hvor han levede i lang tid som fårehyrde.

Ofte gik han ind i skoven, rundt om slottet, men vogtede sig vel for at komme for nær. En nat drømte han, at han fandt en blodrød blomst, og midt i den sad der en dejlig stor perle. Han plukkede blomsten og gik ind i slottet, og alt, hvad han rørte ved med den, blev løst af trolddommen og han fik også Jorinde tilbage. Da han vågnede næste morgen begyndte han at søge på bjerge og i dale for at finde en sådan blomst. Han søgte og søgte, og den niende dag fandt han en blodrød blomst, og i midten af den lå der en dugdråbe så stor som den skønneste perle. Han plukkede den og gik dag og nat, til han kom til slottet. Han gik løs på det uden at blive forstenet. Hans hjerte bankede højt af glæde, og da han rørte ved porten med blomsten, sprang den op. Han gik ind i gården og stod stille og lyttede, lige til han kunne høre, hvor alle fuglene sad. Da han kom ind i salen sad heksen der og fodrede fuglene i de syvtusind kurve. Da hun så Joringel blev hun vred og spyede gift og galde imod ham, men hun måtte hele tiden holde sig to skridt fra ham. Han brød sig slet ikke om hende, men gik hen og så på alle de mange kurve og vidste ikke, hvordan han skulle kende sin elskede igen. Da lagde han pludselig mærke til, at heksen i al hemmelighed tog en af kurvene og ville liste sig ud ad døren. Hurtig sprang han efter hende og berørte både kurven og hende med blomsten. Nu var hendes magt brudt og Jorinde stod for ham, ligeså smuk som altid. Han forvandlede nu alle de andre fugle til jomfruer, tog Jorinde i hånden og gik hjem, og de levede længe lykkeligt sammen.




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