THE GODDESS WIFE

ŽMONA DEIVĖ
      “Kitą kartą buvęs vienas medžiotojas.
Jis vaikščiojęs vaikščiojęs po mišką ir užėjęs miške tokius gražius namus.....”

Translated from Lithuanian by Gloria O’Brien

 

Once there was a hunter, who walked and walked through the woods, and came upon a beautiful manor. Entering the yard, he saw a handsome steer tied to a fence. Continuing further and entering the house, he saw a woman gowned in silk. She beckoned him further, into a lovely chamber. He walked in, and looking through the window, he spied a group of young maidens, all beautifully dressed, advancing towards the house. Each one held a strong birch rod, and struck the steer as they passed him. And the steer shuddered with each blow.

And the woman gave each maiden instructions about their duties for the next day:  

“You must strike down this animal, you that other; you will strike down this person, you that other,” and so on.

After they had  been instructed and sent away, he again looked out the window, and saw the last and most beautiful maiden of all, who strode up to the steer and struck him such a blow that he fell dead. When she entered the room, the woman said to her:

“Tomorrow it will be your task to strike down this hunter.”

The man was almost paralyzed by fear, unable to decide whether he should stand or run. Dismissing the maiden, the woman led him out of the chamber and asked:

“Did you hear what that beautiful maiden must do to you tomorrow?”
“I heard” - he responded fearfully.
“Do you still possess all of your mother’s wedding clothing?”
“I believe so”, answered the hunter.
“Then, when you go out tomorrow to cut the rye, take with you all of your mother’s wedding clothes. Tie twelve thick birch rods together, and take all of that with you, leaving it all close at hand near your workplace.  When you have cut the third row of rye, you will see a serpent. With your mother’s wedding handkerchief, grab it, wring it by the throat and commence to strike it with the birch rods. Though it will writhe and twist, even coil around your arm and body, it will not bite. You must continue striking the creature, until it changes into that maiden, whom you saw today. You must quickly tear off all her clothing and dress her in your mother’s wedding clothes. Then be sure to burn the silken finery that you have taken from her.”

Having said all that, she let him leave the manor, with a final warning:

“Do not forget to do everything as I have told you.”
“Yes, yes -- I will not forget!”, he answered.

The next day, he gathered all of his mother’s wedding clothes, including the handkerchief, tied twelve birch rods together, and went out with the others to cut the rye, carrying everything with him and putting it down at his workplace.  He cut two rows, and upon cutting the third, he saw a serpent. He immediately grabbed the creature with his mother’s handkerchief, taking it by the throat and pressing with all his might. Taking a rod, he struck the snake repeatedly until the rod broke, then took another and continued, over and over. The snake coiled itself around his arm, over his shoulder, writhing and squeezing, but he remained fearless and continued to strike, over and over. Each rod shattered, one after the other, and the struggle raged on. The rods were being used up, but still the maiden did not appear. As he began to strike the creature with the twelfth and last rod, it changed into the same silk-clad, beautiful maiden he had seen the day before. She pleaded with him:

“Let me go, and I will kiss you!”

He immediately tore off her silken finery and dressed her in his mother’s wedding clothing, then set her to the work of tying the sheaves of rye: he would cut, and she would tie.

They married right after rugiapiūtę (the rye-cutting season) and lived happily for a long time. He was going to burn those beautiful silk clothes he had taken from her, but decided it would be a pity to do so. Instead, he brought them home and hid them under the floorboards in his granary. 

Though they lived well, she, as if remembering something, would sigh heavily: for her, it was not so good here, as it had been there.

Once, she began kissing him over and over:

“Oi, oi, oi -- she said -- if only someone would give me back my clothes, how good I would be to them!”
“Do you really need them that badly?” -- he asked.
“Oh, I need them, how I need them!”

He lifted the floorboard in the granary, and gave her the silken clothing. She dressed herself, then pakšt - gave him a smacking kiss in farewell.  He fell dead, and she changed back into a serpent.

 

Source:
From “Lietuviškos Pasakos”  -   “Lithuanian Fairy-tales”
Compiled by Dr. Jonas Balys
Published in 1951 by the Lithuanian Book Club, Chicago

© English Translation - Gloria O’Brien

This article was printed in Bridges

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