‘It doesn’t please me at all,’ said the Musician, ‘that you are always wishing for another husband. Am I not good enough for you?’
At last they came to a miserable little hovel, and she said:
This wretched little hut’s no house at all.’
The Musician answered: ‘This is my house, and yours; where we are to live together.’
The door was so low that she had to stoop to get in.
‘Where are the servants?’ asked the Princess.
‘Servants indeed!’ answered the Beggar. ‘Whatever you want done, you must do for yourself. Light the fire, and put the kettle on to make my supper. I am very tired.’
But the Princess knew nothing about lighting fires or cooking, and to get it done at all, the Beggar had to do it himself.
When they had finished their humble fare, they went to bed. But in the morning the Man made her get up very early to do the housework.
They lived like this for a few days, till they had eaten up all their store of food.
Then the Man said: ‘Wife, this won’t do any longer; we can’t live here without working. You shall make baskets.’
So he went out and cut some osiers, and brought them home. She began to weave them, but the hard osiers bruised her tender hands.
‘I see that won’t do,’ said the Beggar. ‘You had better spin; perhaps you can manage that.’
So she sat down and tried to spin, but the harsh yarn soon cut her delicate fingers and made them bleed.
‘Now you see,’ said the Man, ‘what a good-for-nothing you are. I have made a bad bargain in you. But I will try to start a trade in earthenware. You must sit in the market and offer your goods for sale.’
‘Alas!’ she thought, ‘if any of the people from my father’s kingdom come and see me sitting in the market-place, offering
