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The enchantress remarked nothing of this, until once Rapunzel

said to her: 'Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that you are

so much heavier for me to draw up than the young king's son--he

is with me in a moment.' 'Ah! you wicked child,' cried the

enchantress. 'What do I hear you say! I thought I had separated

you from all the world, and yet you have deceived me!' In her

anger she clutched Rapunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them

twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the

right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids

lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she took poor

Rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great grief and

misery.

On the same day that she cast out Rapunzel, however, the

enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off,

to the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and

cried:

'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair to me.'