Dauntless Little John

There was once a lad whom everyone called Dauntless Little John, since he was afraid of nothing. Traveling about the world, he came to an inn, where he asked for lodgings. “We have no room here,” said the innkeeper, “but if you’re not afraid, I will direct you to a certain palace where you can stay.”

“Why should I be afraid?” “People shudder at the thought of that palace, since nobody who’s gone in has come out alive. In the morning the friars go up with the bier for anyone brave enough to spend the night inside.”

So what did Little John do but pick up a lamp, a bottle, and a sausage, and march straight to the palace.

At midnight he was sitting at the table eating, when he heard a voice in the chimney. “Shall I throw it down?”

“Go ahead! ” replied Little John.

Down the chimney into the fireplace fell a man’s leg. Little John drank a glass of wine.

Then the voice spoke again. “Shall I throw it down?” “Go ahead! ” So another leg dropped into the fireplace. Little John bit into the sausage.

“Shall I throw it down?” “Go ahead!” So down came an arm. Little John began whistling a tune. “Shall I throw it down?”

“By all means! ” And there was another arm.

“Shall I throw it down?”

“Yes!”

Then came the trunk of a body, and the arms and legs stuck onto it, and there stood a man without a head.

“Shall I throw it down?”

“Throw it down! ”

Down came the head and sprang into place atop the trunk. He was truly a giant, and Little John raised his glass and said, “To your health! ”

The giant said, “Take the lamp and come with me.”

Little John picked up the lamp, but didn’t budge.

“You go first! ” said the giant.

“No, after you,” insisted Little John.

“After you! ” thundered the giant.

“You lead the way! ” yelled Little John.

So the giant went first, with Little John behind him lighting the way, and they went through room after room until they had walked the whole length of the palace. Beneath one of the staircases was a small door.

“Open it! ” ordered the giant.

“You open it! ” replied Little John.

So the giant shoved it open with his shoulder. There was a spiral staircase.

“Go on down,” directed the giant.

“After you,” answered Little John.

They went down the steps into a cellar, and the giant pointed to a stone slab on the ground. “Raise that! ”

“You raise it!” replied Little John, and the giant lifted it as though it were a mere pebble.

Beneath the slab were three pots of gold. “Carry those upstairs!” ordered the giant.

“You carry them up!” answered Little John. And the giant carried them up one by one.

When they were back in the hall where the great fireplace was, the giant said, “Little John, the spell has been broken!” At that, one of his legs came off and kicked its way up the chimney. “One of these pots of gold is for you.” An arm came loose and climbed up the chimney. “The second pot of gold is for the friars who come to carry away your body, believing you perished.” The other arm came off and followed the first. “The third pot of gold is for the first poor man who comes by.” Then the other leg dropped off, leaving the giant seated on the floor. “Keep the palace for yourself.” The trunk separated from the head and vanished. “The owners of the palace and their children are now gone forever.” At that, the head disappeared up the chimney.

As soon as it was light, a dirge arose: “Miserere mei, miserere mei.” The friars had come with the bier to carry off Little John’s body. But there he stood, at the window, smoking his pipe!

Dauntless Little John was a wealthy youth indeed with all those gold pieces, and he lived happily in his palace. Then one day what should he do but look behind him and see his shadow: he was so frightened he died.