put the coffin on the top of the mountain, and one of the Dwarfs always remained beside it and kept watch over it. And the very birds of the air came and bewailed Snow White’s death, first an owl, and then a raven, and last of all a little dove.
Snow White lay a long time in the coffin, and she always looked the same, just as if she were fast asleep, and she remained as white as snow, as red as blood, and her hair as black as ebony.
Now it happened one day that a Prince came to the wood and passed by the Dwarfs’ house. He saw the coffin on the hill, with the beautiful Snow White inside it, and when he had read what was written on it in golden letters, he said to the Dwarf:
‘Let me have the coffin; I’ll give you whatever you like for it.’
But the Dwarf said: ‘No; we wouldn’t part with it for all the gold in the world.’
‘Well, then,’ he replied, ‘give it to me, because I can’t live without Snow White. I will cherish and love it as my dearest possession.’
He spoke so sadly that the good Dwarfs had pity on him, and gave him the coffin, and the Prince made his servants bear it away on their shoulders. Now it happened that as they were going down the hill they stumbled over a bush, and jolted the coffin so violently that the poisonous bit of apple Snow White had swallowed fell out of her throat. She gradually opened her eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin, and sat up alive and well.