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- The Three Army Surgeons
- Ferdinand the Faithful
Three army-surgeons who thought they knew their art perfectly, were travelling about
the world, and they came to an inn where they wanted to pass the night. The host asked where
they came, and where they were going? "We are roaming about the world and practising our
art."
"Just show me for once in a way what you can do," said the host. Then the first said
he would cut off his hand, and put it on again early next morning; the second said he would
tear out his heart, and replace it next morning; the third said he would cut out his eyes
and heal them again next morning.
"If you can do that," said the innkeeper, "you have learnt everything."
They, however, had a salve, with which they rubbed themselves, which joined parts
together, and they carried the little bottle in which it was, constantly with them. Then
they cut the hand, heart and eyes from their bodies as they had said they would, and laid
them all together on a plate, and gave it to the innkeeper. The innkeeper gave it to a
servant who was to set it in the cupboard, and take good care of it. The girl, however, had
a lover in secret, who was a soldier. When therefore the innkeeper, the three army-surgeons,
and everyone else in the house were asleep, the soldier came and wanted something to eat.
The girl opened the cupboard and brought him some food, and in her love forgot to shut the
cupboard-door again; She seated herself at the table by her lover, and they chattered away
together. While she sat so contentedly there, thinking of no ill luck, the cat came creeping
in, found the cupboard open, took the hand and heart and eyes of the three army-surgeons,
and ran off with them. When the soldier had done eating, and the girl was taking away the
things and going to shut the cupboard she saw that the plate which the innkeeper had given
her to take care of, was empty. Then she said in a fright to her lover, "Ah, miserable girl,
what shall I do? The hand is gone, the heart and the eyes are gone too, what will become of
me in the morning?"
"Be easy," said he, "I will help you out of your trouble there is a thief hanging
outside on the gallows, I will cut off his hand. Which hand was it?"
"The right one."
Then the girl gave him a sharp knife, and he went and cut the poor sinner's right
hand off, and brought it to her. After this he caught the cat and cut its eyes out, and now
nothing but the heart was wanting.
"Have you not been killing, and are not the dead pigs in the cellar?" said
he.
"Yes," said the girl.
"That's well," said the soldier, and he went down and fetched a pig's heart. The
girl placed all together on the plate, and put it in the cupboard, and when after this her
lover took leave of her, she went quietly to bed.
In the morning when the three army-surgeons got up, they told the girl she was to
bring them the plate on which the hand, heart, and eyes were lying. Then she brought it out
of the cupboard, and the first fixed the thief's hand on and smeared it with his salve, and
it grew to his arm directly. The second took the cat's eyes and put them in his own head.
The third fixed the pig's heart firm in the place where his own had been, and the innkeeper
stood by, admired their skill, and said he had never yet seen such a thing as that done, and
would sing their praises and recommend them to everyone. Then they paid their bill, and
travelled farther.
As they were on their way, the one with the pig's heart did not stay with them at
all, but wherever there was a corner he ran to it, and rooted about in it with his nose as
pigs do. The others wanted to hold him back by the tail of his coat, but that did no good;
he tore himself loose, and ran wherever the dirt was thickest. The second also behaved very
strangely; he rubbed his eyes, and said to the others, "Comrades, what is the matter? I
don't see at all. Will one of you lead me, so that I do not fall."
Then with difficulty they travelled on till evening, when they reached another inn.
They went into the bar together, and there at a table in the corner sat a rich man counting
money. The one with the thief's hand walked round about him, made a sudden movement twice
with his arm, and at last when the stranger turned away, he snatched at the pile of money,
and took a handful from it. One of them saw this, and said, "Comrade, what are you about?
You must not steal shame on you!"
"Eh," said he, "but how can I stop myself? My hand twitches, and I am forced to
snatch things whether I will or not."
After this, they lay down to sleep, and while they were lying there it was so dark
that no one could see his own hand. All at once the one with the cat's eyes awoke, aroused
the others, and said.
"Brothers, just look up, do you see the white mice running about there?" The two sat
up, but could see nothing. Then said he, "Things are not right with us, we have not got back
again what is ours. We must return to the innkeeper, he has deceived us."
They went back therefore, the next morning, and told the host they had not got what
was their own again; that the first had a thief's hand, the second cat's eyes, and the third
a pig's heart. The innkeeper said that the girl must be to blame for that, and was going to
call her, but when she had seen the three coming, she had run out by the backdoor, and not
come back. Then the three said he must give them a great deal of money, or they would set
his house on fire. He gave them what he had, and whatever he could get together, and the
three went away with it. It was enough for the rest of their lives, but they would rather
have had their own proper organs.
Once on a time lived a man and a woman who so long as they were rich had no
children, but when they were poor they had a little boy. They could, however, find no
godfather for him, so the man said he would just go to another place to see if he could get
one there. As he went, a poor man met him, who asked him where he was going. He said he was
going to see if he could get a godfather, that he was poor, so no one would stand as
godfather for him.
"Oh," said the poor man, "you are poor, and I am poor; I will be godfather for you,
but I am so ill off I can give the child nothing. Go home and tell the nurse that she is to
come to the church with the child."
When they all got to the church together, the beggar was already there, and he gave
the child the name of Ferdinand the Faithful.
When he was going out of the church, the beggar said, "Now go home, I can give you
nothing, and you likewise ought to give me nothing."
But he gave a key to the nurse, and told her when she got home she was to give it to
the father, who was to take care of it till the child was fourteen years old, and then he
was to go on the heath where there was a castle which the key would fit, and that all which
was therein should belong to him. Now when the child was seven years old and had grown very
big, he once went to play with some other boys, and each of them boasted that he had got
more from his godfather than the other; but the child could say nothing, and was vexed, and
went home and said to his father, "Did I get nothing at all, then, from my
godfather?"
"Oh, yes," said the father, "you hadst a key if there is a castle standing on the
heath, just go to it and open it."
Then the boy went there, but no castle was to be seen, or heard of.
After seven years more, when he was fourteen years old, he again went there, and
there stood the castle. When he had opened it, there was nothing within but a horse, a white
one. Then the boy was so full of joy because he had a horse, that he mounted on it and
galloped back to his father.
"Now I have a white horse, and I will travel," said he. So he set out, and as he was
on his way, a pen was lying on the road. At first he thought he would pick it up, but then
again he thought to himself, "You should leave it lying there; you will easily find a pen
where you are going, if you have need of one."
As he was thus riding away, a voice called after him, "Ferdinand the Faithful, take
it with you."
He looked around, but saw no one, then he went back again and picked it up. When he
had ridden a little way farther, he passed by a lake, and a fish was lying on the bank,
gasping and panting for breath, so he said, "Wait, my dear fish, I will help you get into
the water," and he took hold of it by the tail, and threw it into the lake. Then the fish
put its head out of the water and said, "As you have helped me out of the mud I will give
you a flute; when you are in any need, play on it, and then I will help you, and if ever you
lettest anything fall in the water, just play and I will reach it out to you."
Then he rode away, and there came to him a man who asked him where he was
going.
"Oh, to the next place."
Then what his name was? "Ferdinand the Faithful."
"So! then we have got almost the same name, I am called Ferdinand the
Unfaithful."
And they both set out to the inn in the nearest place.
Now it was unfortunate that Ferdinand the Unfaithful knew everything that the other
had ever thought and everything he was about to do; he knew it by means of all kinds of
wicked arts. There was, however, in the inn an honest girl, who had a bright face and
behaved very prettily. She fell in love with Ferdinand the Faithful because he was a
handsome man, and she asked him where he was going.
"Oh, I am just travelling round about," said he. Then she said he ought to stay
there, for the king of that country wanted an attendant or an outrider, and he ought to
enter his service. He answered he could not very well go to any one like that and offer
himself. Then said the maiden, "Oh, but I will soon do that for you."
And so she went straight to the king, and told him that she knew of an excellent
servant for him. He was well pleased with that, and had Ferdinand the Faithful brought to
him, and wanted to make him his servant. He, however, liked better to be an outrider, for
where his horse was, there he also wanted to be, so the king made him an outrider. When
Ferdinand the Unfaithful learnt that, he said to the girl, "What! Do you help him and not
me?"
"Oh," said the girl, "I will help you too."
She thought, "I must keep friends with that man, for he is not to be
trusted."
She went to the king, and offered him as a servant, and the king was
willing.
Now when the king met his lords in the morning, he always lamented and said, "Oh, if
I had but my love with me."
Ferdinand the Unfaithful was, however, always hostile to Ferdinand the Faithful. So
once, when the king was complaining thus, he said, "You have the outrider, send him away to
get her, and if he does not do it, his head must be struck off."
Then the king sent for Ferdinand the Faithful, and told him that there was, in this
place or in that place, a girl he loved, and that he was to bring her to him, and if he did
not do it he should die.
Ferdinand the Faithful went into the stable to his white horse, and complained and
lamented, "Oh, what an unhappy man I am!" Then someone behind him cried, "Ferdinand the
Faithful, why weepest you?" He looked round but saw no one, and went on lamenting; "Oh, my
dear little white horse, now must I leave you; now must I die."
Then some one cried once more, "Ferdinand the Faithful, why weepest you?" Then for
the first time he was aware that it was his little white horse who was putting that
question.
"Do you speak, my little white horse; can you do that?" And again, he said, "I am to
go to this place and to that, and am to bring the bride; can you tell me how I am to set
about it?" Then answered the little white horse, "Go you to the king, and say if he will
give you what you must have, you will get her for him. If he will give you a ship full of
meat, and a ship full of bread, it will succeed. Great giants dwell on the lake, and if you
takest no meat with you for them, they will tear you to pieces, and there are the large
birds which would pick the eyes out of your head if you hadst no bread for them."
Then the king made all the butchers in the land kill, and all the bakers bake, that
the ships might be filled. When they were full, the little white horse said to Ferdinand the
Faithful, "Now mount me, and go with me into the ship, and then when the giants come,
say,
"Peace, peace, my dear little giants,
I have had thought of you,
Something I have brought for you;"
and when the birds come, you shall again say,
"Peace, peace, my dear little birds,
I have had thought of you,
Something I have brought for you;"
then they will do nothing to you, and when you come to the castle, the giants will
help you. Then go up to the castle, and take a couple of giants with you. There the princess
lies sleeping; you must, however, not awaken her, but the giants must lift her up, and carry
her in her bed to the ship."
And now everything took place as the little white horse had said, and Ferdinand the
Faithful gave the giants and the birds what he had brought with him for them, and that made
the giants willing, and they carried the princess in her bed to the king. And when she came
to the king, she said she could not live, she must have her writings, they had been left in
her castle. Then by the instigation of Ferdinand the Unfaithful, Ferdinand the Faithful was
called, and the king told him he must fetch the writings from the castle, or he should die.
Then he went once more into the stable, and bemoaned himself and said, "Oh, my dear little
white horse, now I am to go away again, how am I to do it?" Then the little white horse said
he was just to load the ships full again. So it happened again as it had happened before,
and the giants and the birds were satisfied, and made gentle by the meat. When they came to
the castle, the white horse told Ferdinand the Faithful that he must go in, and that on the
table in the princess's bed-room lay the writings. And Ferdinand the Faithful went in, and
fetched them. When they were on the lake, he let his pen fall into the water; then said the
white horse, "Now I cannot help you at all."
But he remembered his flute, and began to play on it, and the fish came with the pen
in its mouth, and gave it to him. So he took the writings to the castle, where the wedding
was celebrated.
The queen, however, did not love the king because he had no nose, but she would have
much liked to love Ferdinand the Faithful. Once, therefore, when all the lords of the court
were together, the queen said she could do feats of magic, that she could cut off any one's
head and put it on again, and that one of them ought just to try it. But none of them would
be the first, so Ferdinand the Faithful, again at the instigation of Ferdinand the
Unfaithful, undertook it and she hewed off his head, and put it on again for him, and it
healed together directly, so that it looked as if he had a red thread round his throat. Then
the king said to her, "My child, and where have you learnt that?"
"Yes," she said, "I understand the art; shall I just try it on you also?"
"Oh, yes," said he. But she cut off his head, and did not put it on again; but
pretended that she could not get it on, and that it would not keep fixed. Then the king was
buried, but she married Ferdinand the Faithful.
He, however, always rode on his white horse, and once when he was seated on it, it
told him that he was to go on to the heath which he knew, and gallop three times round it.
And when he had done that, the white horse stood up on its hind legs, and was changed into a
king's son.

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