[First published in the edition of 1819, this is not exactly a tale as really found in German oral tradition, but rather a composite text created by the Grimms out of two closely similar stories, one from the lower Hessian village of Hof am Habichtswald, and the other from a village (its name not noted) in the environs of Paderborn. About the Grimm Collection.]
Once upon a time there was a poor man who could no longer provide for his only son. Then the son said to him, “Father dear, things are going so badly for you that I’m becoming a burden. I’d rather go away myself and see if I can earn my living.” Then the father gave him his blessing and very sadly took leave of him. At that time the king of a mighty realm was waging war, and the young man enlisted and joined the campaign. When he came face to face with the enemy, a great battle ensued, and it was very dangerous, for there was a perfect hail of bullets, and his comrades were falling all about him. And when the general, too, was killed, the others wanted to seek safety in flight, but the young man stepped forward and encouraged them, crying, “We mustn’t let our fatherland go down!” Then the others followed him, and he pressed on and defeated the enemy. When the king heard that he owed his victory to him alone, he promoted him over everybody else, gave him vast treasures, and made him the first citizen of his kingdom.
The king had a daughter who was very beautiful but also very odd. She’d made a vow to marry no one who wouldn’t promise, in the event of her dying first, to be buried alive with her. “If he really loves me,” she said, “what use will life be to him then?” On the other hand, she was ready to do the same, and should he die first, go down with him into the grave. Thus far this strange vow had frightened away all suitors, but the young man was so taken by her beauty that he paid no attention to anything and asked her father for her hand. “But are you aware,” said the king, ”of what you must promise?” “If I survive her, I shall have to go down with her into the grave” he replied, “but my love for her is so great that the danger means nothing to me.” Then the king consented, and the wedding was celebrated with great pomp.
Now they lived happily and contented for some time. Then it so happened that the young queen fell seriously ill, and no physician was able to save her. When she lay dead, the young king remembered what he’d had to promise and was seized with horror at the thought of being buried alive. But there was no way out: the king had posted sentries at all the gates, and it was impossible to escape that fate. When the day came for the body to be buried in the royal vault, he was led down with it, and the door was bolted and locked.
Beside the coffin stood a table with four candles, four loaves of bread, and four bottles of wine. As soon as these provisions were exhausted, he was bound to die of starvation. Thus he sat there full of sorrow and sadness, each day eating only a tiny bit of bread and drinking only a swallow of wine, and even so, he saw that death was drawing nearer and nearer. While he was thus staring into space, he saw a snake crawl out of a corner of the vault and approach the body, and because he thought it was coming to gnaw at it, he drew his sword and said, “As long as I’m alive, you shan’t touch her,” and cut it into three pieces.
After a while a second snake came crawling out of the corner, but when it saw its companion lying dead and cut to pieces, it went back, returning shortly with three green leaves in its mouth. Then it took the three pieces of the snake, put them properly together, and placed one of the leaves on each of the wounds. Immediately the severed pieces grew together, the snake stirred and came to life again, and both hurried off. The leaves remained on the ground, and the wretched man, who’d witnessed it all, conceived the idea that the wonderful power of the leaves, which had restored the snake to life, might also help a human being. Accordingly, he picked up the leaves and put one on the dead woman’s mouth, the other two on her eyes. He’d scarcely done so when the blood stirred in her veins, rose into her pale face, and made it rosy again. Then she drew a breath, opened her eyes, and said, “Oh God, where am I?” “You’re with me, dear wife,” he answered and told her how it had all happened and how he’d brought her back to life.
Then he gave her some wine and bread, and when she’d regained her strength, she got up, and they went to the door and knocked, calling so loud that the guards heard it and reported to the king. The king himself went and opened the door; there he found them both hale and hearty and rejoiced with them over all their trouble now being ended. The young king took along the snake’s leaves, gave them to a servant, and said, “Keep them carefully for me and always carry them on you. Who knows under what circumstances they may still be of help to us.”
After she’d been brought back to life, a change, however, took place in the woman; it was as if all affection for her husband had vanished from her heart. When some time later he wanted to make a voyage overseas to visit his aged father, and they’d gone aboard ship, she forgot the great love and loyalty he’d showed her and with which he’d saved her from death, and conceived an evil passion for the ship’s captain. Once when the young king was lying asleep, she called the captain and took the sleeping man by the head while the captain had to take him by the feet, and thus they threw him overboard into the sea. When the crime had been committed, she said to him, “Now let’s go back home and say he died on the voyage. Of course I’ll exalt and extol you to my father, so that he’ll marry me to you and make you heir to his crown.” But the faithful servant, who’d witnessed the whole thing, put off unnoticed in a gig, sat down in it, followed his master, and let the traitors continue their voyage. He fished up the dead man again and with the help of the snake’s leaves which he was carrying on him and which he put on his eyes and mouth, succeeded in bringing him back to life.
Night and day they both rowed with might and main, and their little gig made such good time that they got to the old king’s court before the others. The king was astonished to see them arrive alone and asked what had befallen them. On learning of his daughter’s perfidy he said, “I can’t believe she acted so badly, but the truth will soon come out,” and had them both go into a secret chamber and conceal themselves from everyone.
Soon after, the big ship came in, and with troubled mien the wicked woman appeared before her father. He said, “Why are you returning alone? Where’s your husband?” “Oh, father dear,” she answered, “I’m returning in great sorrow; my husband fell suddenly ill on the voyage and died, and if the good captain hadn’t helped me, I’d have been in a bad way. He was present at his death and can tell you everything.” The king said, “I’ll bring the dead man back to life,” opened the chamber, and had the two come out. On seeing her husband, the wife was thunderstruck, fell on her knees, and begged for mercy. The king said, “There is no mercy; he was willing to die with you and brought you back to life. You, on the other hand, killed him in his sleep, and you shall have your just reward.” Then together with her accomplice she was placed in a ship full of holes and put out to sea, where they soon sank beneath the waves.