Sweetheart Roland

A witch had an evil daughter, whom she loved, and a good stepdaughter, whom she hated. She decided she would kill the stepdaughter at night … but the power of love & magic intervened

Settle down. And listen to this. It was once upon a time and there was a mother. She had a daughter of her own that she loved dearly and a step-daughter who had in abundance, all the qualities her own daughter lacked and she hated her for it with a burning passion. One day, her step daughter bought for herself a summer dress. The woman’s daughter saw it, saw how well her step-sister looked in it and was filled with envy. She told her mother that the dress should be hers by rights and insisted she take it from the step-daughter and give it to her.

“Settle, darlin’,” said the mother. “It’ll be yours soon enough. That child has squatted in our lives long enough and it’s time she was fixed. When you go to bed tonight, get to the back of the bed and let her be at the front. I’ll take care of things and you’ll have your dress.” 

But the stepdaughter had been standing in a corner and had overheard everything. So she let the wicked daughter climb into bed first so she could lie down on the far side. But, after she fell asleep, the other gifted sister pushed her toward the front, and took her place at the back of the bed. During the night the old woman crept into the room. She felt around, to see if someone was actually lying up front. Then she gripped an axe with both hands, and began chopping until, she chopped off, her, own, child’s, head.

After she had left the room, the girl stood up and went to her sweetheart, whose name was Roland, and knocked at his door.

“Listen!” she cried. “We have to run away. My stepmother killed her own daughter but thinks she actually killed me. When the morning comes and she sees what she’s done, I’ll be done for, she’ll put the blame on me. So I’ve taken her magic wand, to help us on our way.”

Sweetheart Roland stood up, and before they left, they went back to her room, to the grisly separated head of the stepsister and let three drops of blood drip from it, onto the floor; one in front of the bed, one in the kitchen, and one on the stairs. Then, before the sun came up, they made their escape.

The next morning, when the mother got up, she called her daughter: “Wake up, darlin’. You shall have your summer dress now”

But the daughter didn’t come.

“Where are you?” she called

“Here I am! I’m sweeping the stairs,” answered the first of the drops of blood.

The old woman went out but saw no one.

“Where are you?” she called again.

“Here I am! In the kitchen getting warm,” the second drop of blood replied.

The old woman went into the kitchen, there was no one there.

“Where are you?”, she called for the third time.

“Here I am! In bed sleeping.”

The old woman ran into the room, where she took in the brutal, bloody scene, her own daughter on her bed and the error and the fault, all hers. She was horrified and realized that she’d been deceived. Overcome with anger, she rushed to the window. Since she was a witch, her gaze could reach a long way into the world, and in the distance she made out her stepdaughter escaping with her sweetheart. They were already far away. So she put on her seven-league boots, and it didn’t take her long before she had overtaken them. However, the girl, through the magic wand had felt they were being followed and turned herself, into a lake and her sweetheart Roland into a duck that swam on it. When the step- mother arrived, she sat down on the bank of the lake and threw bread crumbs to lure the duck to shore. But it was no good, and by nightfall the old woman had to return home and without the couple.

Meanwhile, the young woman and her sweetheart regained their natural forms and continued on their way. 

Next morning, as soon as the sun was up, the witch set out after them again. Then the step-daughter changed herself into a colourful flower growing in the middle of a thorny briar hedge, and her sweetheart was transformed into a fiddler. When the old woman arrived, she asked the fiddler whether she could pick the flower.

“Of course,” he answered, “and I’ll play a tune while you’re doing it.”

So she crawled into the hedge to pick it, and, as she reached the middle of the hedge, he began to play a tune, and she was forced against her will to dance, and to dance without stopping, so that the thorns tore the clothes from her body, and scratched her so badly that she bled until she died from the wounds.

Now they were both free, and Roland said to the young woman: “I’ll have to prepare the way with my Dad and arrange for the wedding.”

“In the meantime I’ll turn myself into a red stone, and I’ll stay here, and wait, till you come back.”

Roland left, and she, she stood in the field as a red stone, and waited, and waited, and waited but Roland didn’t come back. She thought he’d forgotten her. She grew sad, turned herself into a flower, and thought, “Someone will surely come along and trample me.”

But a shepherd found the flower, and since it was so beautiful, he took it with him and put it away in a chest. 

From that time on, amazing things began to happen in the shepherd’s cottage. When he got up in the morning, all the work would already be done: the sweeping, dusting, a fire in the hearth. At noon when he came home, the food was cooked, and the table set, the meal served. He couldn’t, for the life of him, work out how all this was happening, for he never saw a living soul in his cottage. Things couldn’t have been better for him but eventually he became frightened, and went to a wise woman for advice.

She told him that there was supernatural power behind all this, magic no less, and he should get up very early in the morning and look out for anything that moved in the room. Then, whatever moved, he should throw a white cloth over it. The shepherd did as she told him, and on the following morning, he saw the chest open and the flower come out. Immediately he threw the white cloth over the flower, and suddenly the transformation came to an end and the beautiful maiden, whom her sweetheart Roland had forgotten, stood before him. The shepherd wanted to marry her, but she said, no, because she only wanted to serve him and clean his house. 

Soon after she heard that Roland’s father had arranged a wedding and pledged him to marry another woman. It was the custom in those days, at this events like this, for every person who present, to sing. So the faithful young woman also went, but she couldn’t bring herself to sing but at last, she was compelled to do so. As she began to sing, her voice carried through the hall and Roland recognized her right away. Roland leapt to his feet, declared that she and only she, was his true bride, and he didn’t want, couldn’t have, anyone else, but her. So he married her, and her sorrows came to an end and their joy, is the reason we tell this tale, still.