There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and dense 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 anyone 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 peace 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 beech 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 under. 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
you, 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, "Hooh, what is to become of me?"
Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange village, where
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 for 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 anyone. And
Jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck, and she was
as beautiful as ever. Then all the other birds were turned into
maidens again, and he went home with his Jorinda, and they lived
happily together for a long time.