Once upon a time, in the middle of the winter, and the snowflakes were falling like feathers from the sky, there sat a queen at a window which had a frame of black ebony, and she was sewing. And as she was sewing and looking up at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell into the snow. And because the red looked so beautiful in the white snow, she thought to herself "if I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the wood on the frame." Soon afterwards she had a little daughter as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black-haired as ebony, and was therefore called Sneewittchen (Snow White). And when the child was born, the queen died.
A year later the king took another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but she was proud and haughty, and could not suffer anyone to surpass her in beauty. She had a wonderful mirror, and when she stood before it and looked at herself in it, she said
so the mirror answered
Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the mirror spoke the truth.
But Sneewittchen grew up and became more and more beautiful, and when she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the clear day, and more beautiful than the queen herself. When she once asked her mirror
so he answered
Then the queen was frightened and turned yellow and green with envy. From that time on, when she saw Sneewittchen, her heart turned round in her body, so she hated the girl. And envy and pride grew like weeds in her heart, so that she had no peace day and night. Then she called a hunter and said "Take the child out into the forest, I will see it no more before my eyes. You shall kill it and bring me its lungs and liver for a landmark." The huntsman obeyed and led her out, and when he had drawn the deerstalker and was about to pierce Sneewhite's innocent heart, she began to weep and said "ah, dear huntsman, let me live; I will run into the wild forest and never come home again." And because it was so beautiful, the hunter took pity and said "so run away, you poor child. The wild beasts will soon have eaten you." he thought, and yet it was as if a stone had rolled from his heart, because he did not need to kill it. And when just then a young freshling came leaping along, he stabbed it, took out its lungs and liver, and brought them as a token to the queen. The cook had to boil them in salt, and the wicked woman ate them up, thinking that she had eaten Sneewhite's lungs and liver.
Now the poor child was alone in the great forest, mother-blessed, and was so frightened that she looked at all the leaves on the trees and did not know how to help herself. Then he began to run and ran over the sharp stones and through the thorns, and the wild animals jumped past him, but they did him no harm. He ran as long as his feet could carry him, until soon it was evening, when he saw a little house and went inside to rest. Everything in the little house was small, but so dainty and clean that it was impossible to tell. There was a white table with seven small plates, each plate with its little spoon, seven little knives and forks, and seven little cups. On the wall, seven little beds were set up next to each other and white as snow. Sneewittchen, because she was so hungry and thirsty, ate a little vegetable and bread from each little plate, and drank a drop of wine from each little cup; for she did not want to take everything from one person alone. Afterwards, because he was so tired, he lay down in a little bed, but none was suitable; one was too long, the other too short, until at last the seventh was right, and he lay down in it, commanded God, and fell asleep.
When it was quite dark, the masters of the little house came; they were the seven dwarfs, who were digging and chopping ore in the mountains. They lighted their seven little lights, and when it was now light in the little house, they saw that someone had been in it, for not everything was in order as they had left it. The first said "who has been sitting on my little chair?". The second "who has eaten from my little plate?". The third "who has taken from my bun?". The fourth "who has eaten of my vegetable?". The fifth "who stabbed with my little fork?". The sixth "who cut with my little knife?". The seventh "who has drunk from my little cup?". Then the first looked around and saw that there was a little dent on his bed, so he spoke "who has stepped in my little bed?" The others came running and shouted "someone has also lain in mine." But the seventh, looking into his bed, saw Sneewittchen lying there asleep. Now he called the others, and they came running, and cried out in amazement, and fetched their seven little lights, and lighted up Sneewittchen. "Ei, du mein Gott! ei, du mein Gott!" they cried, "what is the child so beautiful!" and were so happy that they did not wake him up, but let him sleep in his little bed. But the seventh dwarf slept with his companions, an hour with each, and the night was over.
When morning came, Sneewittchen awoke, and when she saw the seven dwarfs, she was frightened. But they were friendly and asked "what is your name?" "My name is Sneewittchen," she replied. "How did you come to our house?" the dwarves continued. Then she told them that her stepmother had wanted to kill her, but the hunter had spared her life, and so she had walked all day until at last she had found their little house. The dwarfs said "If you want to keep house, cook, make our beds, wash, sew and knit, and if you want to keep everything neat and clean, you can stay with us and you will want for nothing. "Yes." Sneewhite said, "with all my heart," and stayed with them. She kept their house in order: in the morning they went into the mountains and looked for ore and gold, and in the evening they came back, and their food had to be ready. During the day the girl was alone, when the good little dwarfs warned her and said "Beware of your stepmother, she will soon know that you are here; don't let anyone in."
But the queen, thinking she had eaten Sneewhite's lungs and liver, thought no otherwise than that she was again the first and most beautiful, and stood before her mirror, and said
Then the mirror answered
Then she was frightened, for she knew that the mirror spoke truth, and realised that the huntsman had deceived her and that Sneewittchen was still alive. And then she pondered and pondered again how she was going to kill it; for as long as she was not the most beautiful in all the land, envy gave her no peace. And when she had finally thought of something, she coloured her face and dressed herself like an old shopkeeper, and was completely unrecognisable. In this guise she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, knocked at the door, and called "beautiful goods for sale! for sale!" Sneewittchen peeped out at the window and called "good day, dear lady, what have you to sell?" "Good goods, beautiful goods," she replied, "Laces of all colours," and took out one that was woven of coloured silk. "The honest woman I can let in," Sneewittchen thought, unlocking the door and buying the pretty lace strap. "Child," the old woman spoke, "how you look! come, I will lace you up once properly." Sneewittchen had no argument, and stood before her, and let herself be laced with the new lacing-strap: but the old woman laced quickly, and laced so tightly, that Sneewittchen's breath was taken away, and she fell down for dead. "Now you have been the fairest," she said, and hurried out.
Not long after, at evening time, the seven dwarfs came home, but how frightened they were when they saw their dear Sneewittchen lying on the ground; and she did not move or stir, as if she were dead. They lifted her up, and seeing that she was too tightly laced, they cut the lace in two, and she began to breathe a little, and gradually came to life again. When the dwarfs heard what had happened, they said "the old grocer's wife was none but the godless queen: beware, and let no man in unless we be with thee."
But the wicked woman, when she had come home, went before the mirror and asked
Then he answered as usual
When she heard this, all the blood ran to her heart, so she was frightened, for she saw well that Sneewittchen had come to life again. "Now then." she said, "I will devise something that shall destroy thee." and with witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous comb. Then she disguised herself and took the form of another old woman. So she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, knocked on the door and called "good goods for sale! for sale!" Sneewittchen looked out and said "go on, I must not let anyone in." "You will be allowed to look, won't you?" said the old woman, pulling out the poisonous comb and holding it aloft. The child liked it so much that she let herself be beguiled and opened the door. When they had agreed on the purchase, the old woman said. "Now I want to comb you properly." Poor Sneewittchen thought nothing of it, and let the old woman have her way, but no sooner had she put the comb into her hair than the poison in it took effect, and the girl fell down without consciousness. "You paragon of beauty," said the wicked woman, "now it is done for you," and went away. Fortunately, however, it was soon evening when the seven little dwarfs came home. When they saw Sneewittchen lying on the ground as if dead, they immediately suspected the stepmother, searched and found the poisonous comb, and as soon as they had pulled it out, Sneewittchen came to again and told them what had happened. Then they warned her once more to be on her guard and not to open the door to anyone.
The queen stood at home in front of the mirror and spoke
Then he answered as before
Hearing the mirror speak thus, she trembled and shook with anger. "Let Sneewittchen die," she cried, "even if it costs my own life." Thereupon she went into a quite hidden lonely chamber, where no one came, and there she made a poisonous apple. It looked beautiful on the outside, white with red cheeks, so that everyone who saw it had a desire for it, but whoever ate a piece of it had to die. When the apple was ready, she dyed her face and disguised herself as a peasant's wife, and so she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs. She knocked, and Sneewhite put out her head at the window, and said "I must not let any man in, the seven dwarfs have forbidden me." "Quite all right with me too," replied the farmer's wife, "I want to get rid of my apples. Here, I want to give you one." "No." Sneewhite spoke, "I must not accept anything." "Are you afraid of poison?" the old woman spoke, "see, there I cut the apple in two; the red cheek you eat, the white I will eat." But the apple was so artificially made that the red cheek alone was poisoned. Sneewittchen lusted after the beautiful apple, and when she saw the farmer's wife eating it, she could resist no longer, reached out her hand and took the poisonous half. But no sooner had it taken a bite than it fell to the ground dead. Then it looked at the queen with ghastly eyes and laughed out loud, saying "white as snow, red as blood, black as ebony! this time the dwarves cannot awaken you again." And when at home she consulted the mirror
so he answered at last
Then her envious heart had rest, as well as an envious heart can have rest.
The little dwarfs, as they came home in the evening, found Sneewittchen lying on the ground, and no more breath came out of his mouth, and he was dead. They picked it up, searched to see if they could find anything poisonous, untied it, combed its hair, washed it with water and wine, but it was no use; the dear child was dead and remained dead. They laid him on a bier and sat all seven of them on it and wept for him and wept for three days. Then they wanted to bury it, but it still looked as fresh as a living person and still had its beautiful red cheeks. They said "we cannot bury it in the black earth," and had a transparent coffin made of glass, so that it could be seen on all sides, and laid it in it, and wrote its name on it in golden letters, and that it was a king's daughter. Then they put the coffin out on the mountain, and one of them always stayed with it and guarded it. And the animals came too and wept for Sneewittchen, first an owl, then a raven, finally a little dove.
Now Sneewittchen lay a long time in the coffin and did not decay, but looked as if she were asleep, for she was still as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black-haired as ebony. But it happened that a king's son strayed into the forest and came to the dwarf's house to spend the night. He saw the coffin on the mountain and the beautiful Sneewittchen in it, and read what was written on it in golden letters. Then he said to the dwarves "leave me the coffin, and I will give you what you want for it." But the dwarves answered "we will not give it for all the gold in the world." Then he said "then give it to me, for I cannot live without seeing Sneewittchen, I will honour and esteem her as my dearest." As he spoke thus, the good dwarfs felt compassion for him and gave him the coffin. The king's son now had his servants carry him away on their shoulders. Then it happened that they stumbled over a shrub, and the poisonous apple fruit, which Sneewittchen had bitten off, came out of the shaker's neck. And not long after, she opened her eyes, lifted the lid of the coffin, and straightened up, and was alive again. "Oh God, where am I?" it cried. The king's son said, full of joy "you are with me," and told what had happened, and said "I love thee better than anything in the world; come with me to my father's castle, thou shalt be my consort." So Sneewittchen was good to him and went with him, and their marriage was arranged with great pomp and glory.
But Sneewittchen's ungodly stepmother was also invited to the feast. Now, as she had dressed herself in beautiful clothes, she stood before the mirror and spoke
The mirror replied
Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so afraid, so afraid, that she knew not how to let herself go. At first she did not want to come to the wedding at all, but she had no peace, she had to go and see the young queen. And as she entered, she recognised Sneewittchen, and with fear and terror she stood there and could not move. But iron slippers had already been placed over a fire of coals, and were carried in with tongs and set before her. Then she had to step into the red-hot shoes and dance until she fell dead to the earth.