Grimm's Household Tales

There was once an old castle in the midst of a large, thick forest, and in it an old woman who was a witch lived all alone. In the daytime she changed herself into a cat or a screech owl, but in the evening she took her true 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 move from the place until she told him he was free. But whenever an innocent maiden came within this circle, she changed her into a bird, shut her up in a wickerwork 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 called Jorinda, who was more beautiful than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had promised to marry each other. They were still in the days of their betrothal, and their greatest happiness was being together. One day, so that they could 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 turtledoves 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 which way to 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 by. 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 had been changed into a nightingale and sang, “jug, jug, jug.” A screech owl with glowing eyes flew three times around 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 immediately afterward a crooked old woman came out of it, 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, “Greetings, Zachiel. If the moon shines into the cage, Zachiel, let him loose at once.” Then Joringel was freed. He fell on his knees before the woman and begged her to give him back his Jorinda, but she said that he would never have her again, and she 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 an unfamiliar village, where he kept sheep for a long time. He often walked around and around the castle, but not too near to it. At last he dreamed 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 dreamed that by means of it he recovered his Jorinda.

In the morning, when he awoke, he began to search over hill and dale to see if he could find such a flower. He searched 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 dewdrop, 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 went 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 which 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 paid no attention to her but went and looked at the cages with the birds; but there were many hundreds of 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 toward the door.

Swiftly he sprang toward her and touched the cage with the flower, and also the old woman. She could no longer bewitch anyone; and Jorinda was standing there, clasping him around the neck, and she was as beautiful as ever!