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Breitmann's Last Ballads - The Magic Shoes

by Charles G. Leland

It was stiller, dimmer twilight

amber toornin' into gold,

Like young maidens' hairs get yellow

und more dark as dey crow old;

Und dere shtood a high ruine

vhere de Donau rooshed along,

All lofely, yet neclected

like an oldt und silent song.

Out shpoke der Ritter Breitmann,

'Ven I hafe not forgot,

Ich kenn an anciendt shtory

of dis inderesdin shpot,

Of the Deutscher Middleolter

vot de Minnesingers sung,

Ven dot olt ruine oben

vas a-bloomin, fair, und yung.

'Vonce dere lifed a noble fr'ulein

fery peautiful vas she,

More ash twendy dimes goot lookin

it is in de historie;

Und mit more ash forty quarters

on her woppenshield, dot men

Might beholdt mitout a discount

she vas of de upper ten.

'But dough lofely as an angel,

mit eyes of turkos plue,

She vas cruel ash a teufel,

und de vorst man efer knew.

Vonce ven a nople young one

kneeled down to her mit lofe,

She kicket him mit her slipper

und oopset him on de shtove.

'Und said, 'I do refuse you,

as you may plainly see;

Und from dis day henseforvart

mine refuse you shall pe,

Und when I do run afder you

like dogs run afder men,

Den I vill pe your vife, yung man

boot keep avay dill denn!'

'He lishten to her crimly,

and no single vort he said,

Boot de bitter dings she spoken

poot der teufel in his head;

For she hafe not learned de visdom,

vich is alvays safe and sound,

'Don't go to pourin' water on a mouse

ven id ist trowned.'

'Vonce, at de end of autoom,

ven de vind vos bitter cold,

Dis maiden out a-ridin'

met a voman poor and old;

Her feets vere bare and pleedin',

and she said, 'Ah! ton't refuse

To gife me, nople lady,

yoosht de vorst of your oldt shoes!'

'De lady boorst out laughin',

'Fool here, or fool me dere,

You give to me a couple,

I gives to you a pair.'

Denn she rode avay a-laughin';

de old voman says 'I wete,

I'll give you shoes, my lady,

dot vill fit your soul and feet!'

'Dis voman vas a vitch',

an bitter one dere to,

All dot vot she had shpoken

she light enough could do;

De Ritter did not know it,

but he told her of his love,

And how dot shkornful lady

hat oopset him mit de shtove.

'Out spoke de grimme witch',

'She shall pay dee well to boot,

If yo pring to me de measure

of dat lady's liddle foot.'

He got it from her shoemaker,

and gafe id to de vitch,

Denn she gafe it to de damsel

pooty soon as hot as pitch.

'Von morn de lofely lady,

on openin' her toor,

Found de nicest pair of gaiter boots

she efer saw pefore;

Dey vitted her exoctly

mitouten any doubt

Boot, mein Gott! how she vas shrocken

ven dey 'gun to valk apout!

'Und ash de poots go valkin',

like de buds go mit de stem,

It vollowed dot de lady

had to valk apout in dem.

Dey took her out into de street

dey run her on de road,

Bym-by she saw a man ahead

vot led her vhere she goed.

'Vhen he vent valkin' longsome

denn longsome vas her pace,

Vhen he roon like a greyhound

she skompered in a race;

He led her o'er de moundains

und cross de lonely plain,

Until de evenin' shadows,

ven he took her home again.

'Denn she dink mit hate and fury

of dis man she used to skoff,

Und den go at de gaiters

boot she couldn't pull dem off,

She vork mit all de servants,

boot 'tvasent any use,

Und so she hafe to go to bett

a-shleepin' in her shoes.

'Next mornin' off dey shtarted,

apout de broke of day,

Den he led her to a castle

in de woods and far away,

And shpeak to her, 'My lady

I dink at last you see

Dat de dime has come in earnesdt

vhen you've cot to vollow me!'

'Oh vat ish female nature?

Oh vat ish mortal pride?

How all dot shtands de firmest

most quickly shlips aside

De cloudts dot o'er de moundains

look shkornful at de plain,

Ere long mit shtormy wetter

come toomble down in rain.

'So de storm-cloud of Superbia

vhich shweep her soul above,

Vas meltet mit his shternness

and be-turn?d into love,

As his words like donner wetter

croshed ven de lightnin' flies,

So downward coom de torrents

of dear trops from her eyes.

'Und she gry, 'Mit shame I own it,

to say de fery least,

I gonfess dat in dis matter

I hafe acted like a peast;

Ven I made of you my refuse,

I dinked it no account,

But now de pack is on my back

it seems a big amount.

''But if you vish to ved me,

I vill do vat you require.

He answered, 'Now you're talkin'

dot is yoost vot I tesire,

For I am very willin',

and you do not refuse,

Boot remember vot you bromised

send de vitch a pair of shoes!'

'She answered, 'I vill follow

verever you may go,

All ofer hills and falleys,

in sunshine, rain, or schnow,

All over in der Welt, dear,

I'll vander on vith thee,

I do not care how rough de road

or dark de path may be!

''Or in de bloomin' meadows,

vhere de grass is soft and sweet,

Or in de rocky passes,

vhere de stones are under veet,

Or if I vear de shoes, love,

vitch you hafe given me,

Or if I moost go barefoot,

is all de same to me.'

'He drew away de gaiters.

She said, 'As I'm rich

I vill fill dem both mit money,

and take dem to de vitch.'

Ja wohl, she saw die Hexe,

and takin' her aside,

She danked her for de lesson

vot hat dook avay her pride.

'On de vay vhen dey vere married,

how vere dey all erstaun

To see a lofely lady

come in mit golden crown,

All in a rosy-silken dress

vot shined as pright as glass,

Said, 'My dears, I am de vitch

dot fetch dis ding to pass.

''You know I look so ogly vonce,

und now am peautiful,

Dot ist de vay dot all dings vork

ven folks pe dutiful.

Ash de lily toorns to vhitey

vot once vas dirty green,

So all ist fair ven virdue

ist runnin' de machine.''

Dis is de vondrous shtory

vot de Ritter Breitmann told

Besides the rooshin' Danube

of de schloss so grey und old,

Vhile a shmokin' of his meerschaum;

und till all time pe gone

The rustlin' of de vasser

tells de tale for ever on.

Dat is an alt legende,

und yet 'Tis efer new,

Und to efery von dot hears it

it fits yoost like a shoe.

Und dis de shinin' moral

dot in de oyster lies

Some day you may roon after

de dings you vonce despise!