Once there was a poor miller, who had to speak to the king on a matter of great importance. In the middle of the conversation, in order to sound important, he idly remarked, "I've a daughter who can spin straw into gold, you know." The king was quite impressed. "What a happy talent to possess!" he cried. "Bring this girl to my palace tomorrow, and we'll see if she can do as you say!"
So the miller sent his daughter early the next evening to the palace, and when she arrived, she was shown into a room full of straw. "Spin that into gold by sunrise," the king ordered, "or I'll have your head."
The girl was locked into the room and left until morning, and she did not know what to do. She was very afraid, for she had no idea of how to spin gold into straw, and was so overcome with fear that she began to weep.
Suddenly the door opened, and a strange little man walked in. "Ay, why do you weep so?" he asked.
"I must spin all this straw into gold by sunrise or it's my life," the girl lamented. "I cannot do it!"
"What will you give me to do this task for you?" the little man asked.
"My necklace," the girl offered.
The little man seemed pleased, and sat at the spinning well, and by morning, the room gleamed with bushels of spun gold. The king saw this and was overjoyed, but wished for more gold. And so the next night, the miller's daughter was led into a bigger room full of straw, and the king commanded, "Spin all this gold into straw by sunrise, or you will die." He left, locking the door behind him, and the poor girl began to weep straightaway.
Once again, the little man made his way in. "What will you give me to spin this straw into gold?" he asked.
"The ring on my finger," the girl offered.
"A fair trade," the little man said, taking the ring and sitting at the wheel.
When the king came into the room the next morning, he was delighted with the shining gold he found. But he was greedy, and wanted still more, and so that night the miller's daughter was taken into the biggest room yet, all full of straw. "You must spin this into gold by sunrise," the king said. "If you do so, you shall be my wife. But if you do not..." With that, he left her.
The little man entered the room before the girl even had time to begin to cry. "What will you give me to spin this straw into gold?" he asked.
"I have nothing else," the miller's daughter said. "I've given you all I owned."
"Then you must promise," the little man said, "that if you become queen, you shall give me your firstborn."
The girl hesitated... could she promise such a thing? Oh, but if she did not! "I will give you my firstborn," she heard herself say. "Just please... the straw!"
The little man smiled with satisfaction and sat at the wheel. In the morning, the king took one look at the piles of glowing gold, and asked the miller's daughter to be his queen.
So they were wed, and after a year, the queen had a beautiful baby boy. She had forgotten all about the little man and her promise to him, but late one night, he appeared in the nursery, and demanded, "Give me what is mine!"
The queen clutched her baby. "No!" she cried. "I cannot bear to!" She began to weep desparately.
The little man grimaced. "I will give you a chance to save your child," he said. "If you can guess my name within three days, I will spare him."
The next night he came back, and the queen guessed every name she knew, but none were right. "That's one night you've failed," the little man cried. "I'll be back tomorrow to give you another chance."
The next day, the queen sent a knight to ask all the villagers their names, and that night, she guessed every name in the village, but none were right. "That's two nights you've failed!" the little man gleefully cried. "I'll return tomorrow night, and ye maun tell me my name then, or your child shall be mine!"
"No!" the queen cried. "No, please! I will give you all the riches of the kingdom, just please- let me keep my son!"
"Riches? What care I for them?" the little man laughed. "I want something that's alive!" With that, he disappeared.
The next morning, the queen sent the knight out again to find any more names. He returned at dusk. "Well?" the queen demanded. "What names have you found out for me?"
"But one," the knight responded. "It is a strange story. I spied through the trees in the forest a man no bigger than a child, a ridiculous creature, dancing round a cooking-fire. And he sang as he danced."
The queen leaned forward eagerly. "What did he sing?"
"A simple song: 'Tonight I drink by the fireside/Tomorrow I take the bairn of the royal bride/For she'll never guess, she'll never glean/That Rumplestiltskin is my name!'."
The queen listened solemnly. "I have won, then," she whispered softly.
That night, the little man came. "Tis your last chance," he teased. "What guesses have you tonight?"
The queen pursed her lips. "Hmmm... is your name... Robert?"
"No!"
"Is it... Thomas?"
"No!"
"Is it... Arthur?"
"No!" The little man was delighted.
"Then is it... might it be... Rumplestiltskin?"
The little man turned pale, then red. "The devil told you that!" he cried. "The devil told you that!" And he stomped so furiously that his right foot went through the floor, and he pulled so hard on his left leg that he ripped himself in half. And thus having defeated Rumplestiltskin, the queen took her child and rocked him to sleep before the hearth.