Once upon a time, there was a widower and a widow, even across the Operencia. The widower had a son and a daughter, the widow had no children. Once, how could he not, the widower thought to himself, he married the widow.
For a while the woman treated the children nicely, but then she always beat them, never gave them a good look, and the last time she didn't even let them sleep in the house, but made them lie down in the atrium.
The little girl was already bigger and smarter than the little boy, and she often mourned over their misfortune, often not being able to sleep half the night because of her grief. One day, as he was crying in his bed, he heard his father and mother talking in the house.
He listens, what he hears, what he doesn't hear, he hears his mother telling his father to fatten them up with nuts, and then when they get fat, to cut them down. The little girl was very frightened, but she said nothing to anyone.
From that day on the children had a good time, all day long they had plenty of nuts in front of them, they ate when they liked, but they were even ordered to eat or not to eat, the stepmothers always sweetened and soothed them, but they didn't bathe them in milk and butter. The nuts they had put away were all gone; once the little girl had not slept again one night, so she heard her stepmother say to her father:
- Well, father, the children are fat, it's time to kill them, tomorrow I'll bathe them both, and the day after tomorrow - it's Sunday anyway - we'll kill them, and make a big dinosaur out of them.
And so it was. On Saturday evening, the woman put the water by the fire, so that when it boiled up, she could bathe them in it. But the little girl couldn't stand it any longer, she misled her little brother and told him everything.
The two little children were only clever, only clever, until they convinced themselves that they would escape that day. But their mothers kept an eye on them so they couldn't get away. When the woman had already poured the water into the lye bath (lye bath - ed.) to give the children a bath, the little boy just grabbed the soap and ran straight out into the street.
The woman went after him, telling the little girl to go and bring him back by the ear. Go on! The little girl ran out too, caught up with her brother, but hey, she didn't bring him back, they held hands and ran. And when the wicked stepmother saw them, they were over the hill and over the valley.
As they walked, they wandered through a world without a world, on untrodden paths, once the little boy got thirsty. He says to the little girl:
- Oh, my sweet little brother, I could drink it!
- It's bad enough, my sweet little brother, but we'll find some water somewhere, and then you can drink.
They kept walking and walking and then they found a wolf track full of water. The little boy was very mad.
- My sweet little brother, I drink of this water.
- Don't drink, my sweet little brother, or you'll turn into a wolf.
The little boy obeyed, he did not drink.
They went again, they walked again, they found another foxhole, and it was full of water. The little boy went mad again.
- My sweet little brother, I drink of this water.
- Don't drink, my sweet little brother, or you'll turn into a fox.
Again the little boy obeyed, again he did not drink.
They went on again, walking. The little boy was so thirsty he could hardly stand on his feet. The third time they found a small deer track, it was full of water. Says the little boy:
- But, my dear aunt, I can't stand it any longer, I'm drinking from it.
- Don't drink, my sweet little brother, or you'll turn into a deer.
The little boy did not listen. His aunt asked him to drink the water, but he turned into a deer. They both cried and cried, wondering what to do now. But there was nothing they could do about it.
Then the little girl tore off the string of her rope, made a little leash, tied it to the deer's horn and led it after her. And so they went on their way, mournfully, and one day it was getting dark. They wondered where they should sleep; they were very afraid of the night, and once they saw a haystack, and the little girl had dug a big hole in it, and they both hid there.
They had barely fallen asleep when suddenly they hear a dog barking. They were frightened, and huddled together like poor man's piglets.
Well, a king was hunting there, and his dog smelled the deer, so he went round the bog with a great bark. The king went to see what the dog was barking at. But he saw nothing either.
"Well," he thought to himself, "whatever it is, there must be something here." He called through the hole:
- Who is, what is in this bog hole?
The children did not say anything because they were very scared. Again the king cried out:
- Who is, what is in this bog hole?
Again, no one spoke. But even then the king was angry.
- Who is, what is in this bog hole? Tell me, or I'll shoot.
Then the little girl got very frightened and came out of the hole, dragging the little deer with her. The king asked her how she got there. The little girl told the whole story of her life, how they had tried to kill them, how they had escaped, how she had turned her little brother into a deer. The king liked the little girl very much, took her home with the little deer, ordered all the people of his house to treat them well.
And the little girl grew up beautifully, and grew into a maiden so beautiful that an old man's eyes could not see her; and the little fawn was always sneaking around her.
Once - whether it happened or not, I cannot say - the king fell in love with the girl and married her. They had a great feast, the yellow juice flowed from Hencida to Boncida. When the feast was in full swing, a stranger came, bringing a large sealed letter, in which the neighbouring king wrote that he now had a war to fight, so he should take to the field if he had a soul! What could be done, they said goodbye to each other with great weeping and crying, and the king set off to war.
He had an old, old landlady, and he entrusted her to look after him while he was away. Hey, he would rather have trusted a wolf with a lamb, a sparrow with wheat, to keep her, than this old witch with his wife, who would have drowned the bride in a spoonful of water, she was so angry with him.
And the old hag was angry because he had a daughter with a bright face, and wanted to have her aborted with the king. The old woman was glad when the king gave her his wife, thinking to herself that he would get rid of her.
Some time after the king's departure, God blessed the queen with a golden-haired child, and the mistress was even more envious.
One fine morning the two of them, the queen and the mistress, went out for a walk in the garden. There was a beautiful fish pond, full of all kinds of gold and silver fish. The queen, looking at the beautiful little fish, was caught from behind by the mistress and pushed into the water.
The queen drowned, but she did not drown, she turned into a beautiful golden duck, but the mistress did not notice, she thought she had drowned, she went back to the palace as if she had a good hay.
Meanwhile the king had finished the war; he had beaten the enemy and gone home with a great victory. The farmer's wife went to him with great weeping, and told him that the deer had just pushed the queen into the fish-pond - she lied so constantly as if she had read it from a writing - and even told him how it happened, as it happened. The king was in a great melancholy, and he was so angry with the deer that he gave orders that he should be killed next Sunday.
And the beautiful queen, who swam in the lake like a golden duck, had no peace; she was always drinking and drinking after the little boy. Once she sneaked into the palace, gave him a bath, wrapped him in a swaddling cloth, and laid him in his cradle.
Then he went to his master, and made him cry all the time, but he must have cried, because he did not wake up, because the mistress had put sleeping powder in his food. Last of all, her little brother, the little doe, went to her food.
- Are you still alive, little brother?
- I am alive, little aunt; my throat with a golden knife, my blood with a golden knife, the king's mistress will kill me tomorrow.
The next night, the Queen left again in the guise of a golden duck. She gave her little boy a bath, and she kissed her lord. But he didn't wake up again, because the mistress had put sleeping powder in his food again. Last of all, her little brother, the little doe, went to her food again.
- Are you still alive, little brother?
- I am alive, little aunt; my throat with a golden knife, my blood with a golden knife, the king's mistress will kill me tomorrow.
It was Sunday the third day, and they were going to kill the little deer, and they had already grinded the knife out of him, and he asked the king to question the Countess in private. The king granted his wish and took her to his room.
There the little doe asked him if he had noticed anything walking around him during the night, because so and so was here. The king was very much pleased, only wondering that he had not wakened when he was sleeping so soundly.
- "Oh, sire King," said the doe, "your Majesty is not awake because the mistress puts dream-powder in her food every night, for she knows that my aunt comes here in the guise of a golden duck.
The king immediately showed mercy to the deer, and then brought in his chariot:
- Well, Pista, you have always been my faithful servant, would you do me a favour?
- And I, my lord the king. What is it?
- It's just that when they bring in the dinner, you're pulling off your shirt, so the hostess might be in your face, but don't think about that.
The driver promised, but he did. When everything was laid out, all he needed was a man to eat it, Pista, without asking or hearing, rushes to the table like a man who has run out of food, pulls down the dish, all of it. The hostess almost didn't scratch out her two eyes, she ran into him. But Pista thought nothing of it.
Well, so far we've had that. As soon as the mistress had gone out of the room, the king bade the coachman stay with her, and cover the candle with a hive. If he should then cry out, he should take it down from him suddenly, and until then he should be as quiet as if he were dead, and whatever he heard or saw, he should not move. With that the king lay down, pretending to be asleep.
Once the window opened quietly, the golden duck flew in, turned into a beautiful queen, a hundred times more beautiful than before, bathed her little boy, wrapped him in a spider's web, put him to bed; then she went to her lord to make him cry all the way, but the king was not slow to jump out of bed, embraced her, kissed her.
Suddenly Pista snatched the hood off the candle, it was light, and there was no escape for the beautiful queen.
The next day they had a big feast; for seven days and seven nights they always went to the famous hen-roosting place in Kálla.
And the king had the old woman cut in four, and set her on the four corners of the city.
The king took the little fawn's plight so much to heart that he gathered all the doctors and physicians in the world, and they worked on it until at last they turned her into such a beautiful maiden that they had to look for a mate.
(László Arany: Hungarian folk tales)
