"
So her envious heart had as much repose as an envious heart can ever
know.
When the dwarfs came home in the evening, they found Snowdrop lying
breathless and motionless on the ground. They lifted her up, searched
whether she had anything poisonous about her, unlaced her, combed her
hair, washed her with water and with wine; but all was useless, for
they could not bring the darling back to life. They laid her on a
bier, and all the seven placed themselves round it, and mourned for
her three long days. Then they would have buried her, but that she
still looked so fresh and life-like, and had such lovely rosy cheeks.
"We cannot lower her into the dark earth," said they; and caused a
transparent coffin of glass to be made, so that she could be seen on
all sides, and laid her in it, writing her name outside in letters of
gold, which told that she was the daughter of a king. Then they placed
the coffin on the mountain above, and one of them always stayed by it
and guarded it. But there was little need to guard it, for even the
wild animals came and mourned for Snowdrop: the birds likewise--first
an owl, and then a raven, and afterwards a dove.
Long, long years, did Snowdrop lie in her coffin unchanged, looking as
though asleep, for she was still white as snow, red as blood, and her
hair was black as ebony. At last the son of a king chanced to wander
into the forest, and came to the dwarf's house for a night's shelter.
Pages:
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382