Illustration from Jorinde and Joringel, a Grimm fairy tale about love, enchantment, and a witch who turns maidens into birds.
This is a traditional tale collected by the Brothers Grimm.
The story is presented here in its original form.
There was once an old castle in the midst of a great thick wood, and in it lived an old woman all alone; she was a witch. By day she changed herself into a cat or an owl, but in the evening she became properly a human being again. She could lure wild beasts and birds to herself, and then she killed and cooked and roasted them. If anyone came within a hundred paces of the castle, he was forced to stand still and could not move from the spot until she released him; but if a chaste maiden came within this circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her up in a wicker basket, and carried the basket into a room in the castle. She had about seven thousand such baskets with rare birds in them.
Now there was once a maiden whose name was Jorinde; she was more beautiful than all other maidens. She and a handsome youth named Joringel had promised to marry each other. They were still in the days of their betrothal, and they took pleasure in being together. One day they went into the forest to walk, that they might talk together in private.
“Take care,” said Joringel, “that you do not go too near the castle.”
It was a beautiful evening; the sun shone between the stems of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and the turtle-doves sang mournfully on the old beech-trees.
Jorinde wept now and then; she sat down in the sunshine and lamented; Joringel lamented too. They were as sorrowful as if they knew they were about to die. They looked round, and were confused, and did not know which way to go home. The sun was still half above the mountain and half below.
Joringel looked through the bushes and saw the old walls of the castle close at hand. He was terrified and filled with deadly fear. Jorinde was just singing:
“My little bird with the red ring,
Sing sorrow, sorrow, sorrow;
He sings of the dove that will soon be slain,
Sing sorrow, sorrow, sorrow.”
Joringel looked at Jorinde. Jorinde had been changed into a nightingale, and was singing “jug, jug, jug.” An owl with glowing eyes flew three times round her, and three times cried, “Tu whit, tu whoo!”
Joringel could not move; he stood there like a stone, and could neither weep, nor speak, nor move hand or foot. Now the sun had set; the owl flew into a bush, and directly afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow and lean, with large red eyes and a hooked nose which reached to her chin. She muttered, caught the nightingale, and carried it away in her hand.
Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot. The nightingale was gone, and at last the woman came back and said in a hollow voice, “Greeting, Joringel! when the moon shines in the cage, you shall be free.” Then she went away.
When the moon shone, Joringel was free. He fell on his knees before the old woman and begged her to give him back his Jorinde; but she said he should never have her again, and went away. He called, he wept, he lamented, but all in vain.
“What will become of me?” said he.
Joringel went away, and came at last to a strange village; there he kept sheep for a long time. He often walked round and round the castle, but not too near. At last he dreamt one night that he found a blood-red flower, in the middle of which was a large beautiful pearl; he plucked the flower and went with it to the castle; everything he touched with the flower was released from enchantment, and he also found that he thus got his Jorinde back again.
In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over hill and dale for such a flower. He sought till the ninth day, and then he found the blood-red flower early in the morning. In the middle of it was a large dewdrop, as big as the finest pearl. He plucked the flower and carried it day and night until he came to the castle.
When he was within a hundred paces of it, he did not become fixed, but could walk on. Joringel was full of joy. He touched the gate with the flower, and it sprang open; he went in, listened for the sound of birds, and at last heard it. Then he went and found the hall where the witch was, feeding the birds in the seven thousand baskets.
When she saw Joringel, she was angry, and scolded, and spat poison and gall at him, but she could not come within two paces of him. He did not take any notice of her, but went and looked at the baskets with the birds. There were many hundreds of nightingales; how then should he find his Jorinde again?
Whilst he was thus looking, he observed that the old woman was quietly taking away a basket with a bird in it, and going towards the door. He sprang quickly towards her, touched the basket with the flower, and also the old woman; then she could no longer exercise any enchantment, and Jorinde stood before him as she had been before, and fell on his neck and wept for joy.
Then Joringel changed all the other birds back again into maidens, and he went home with his Jorinde, and they lived long together in happiness.