Knjigice
Fairy tale · Classic fairy tales
Rumpelstiltskin
The old tale of the little man nobody could name
Also in: Špicparkeljc (Slovenian) · Martinko Klingáč (Slovak)
Once there was a miller who had a daughter called Marjetka. She was clever and kind, and she could spin thread so fine that everyone admired her wheel.
1
One day the miller met the king and got a little carried away. "My daughter can spin straw into gold!" he said. The king pricked up his ears. "Now that I must see."
2
And so Marjetka was taken to the castle. They shut her in a room full of straw, showed her a spinning wheel and said: "By morning let it all be gold." Then the king locked the door.
3
Marjetka sat down in the straw and cried. All at once the door creaked and in stepped a little man, barely knee-high. "And why are you crying?"
4
"What will you give me if I help you?" asked the little man. Marjetka gave him her necklace. The little man sat down at the wheel — whirr, whirr, whirr — and by morning all the straw was gold.
5
The king was delighted — and greedier still. The next evening he locked her in an even bigger room, with even more straw. The little man came again, and Marjetka gave him her ring.
6
But on the third evening Marjetka had nothing left. "Then promise me your first child," said the little man. Marjetka thought that would be a long, long way off — and promised.
7
In the morning everything glittered with gold. The king asked for her hand, and soon she was queen. A year later a baby was born, and there were no happier people in the castle.
8
But one evening the little man stood beside the cradle. "I have come for what you promised." Marjetka began to cry. The little man felt sorry for her. "Very well," he said. "If you guess my name in three days, the child stays with you."
9
Marjetka sent messengers everywhere. They brought her names: Jurij, Miha, Blaž, Ribbyrack, Oatensack, Legbreaker… And the little man turned down every single one: "No, that is not my name."
10
On the third day a messenger was coming home through the forest. Deep among the trees he saw a little fire, and around it the little man was hopping and singing his own name at the top of his voice.
11
The next day the little man came again. "Is your name perhaps Jurij?" "No." "Miha?" "No!" "Well then… might your name be Rumpelstiltskin?"
12
The little man jumped so high in the air with astonishment. "My name!" he whooped. "Somebody said my name!" He was so happy that he forgot all about the child — because really, all he had ever wanted was for somebody to know him.
13
From that day on, Rumpelstiltskin came to the castle every year — for a slice of cake and a visit. And in the whole land there was nobody who could not say his name.
14The End
