In the beginning, there was no one happier than the Princess Eliza and her eleven brothers. Their mother and father loved them all dearly. But then the Queen died, and the King took a second wife. He chose unwisely - a beautiful but wicked sorceress who hated the twelve children. She sold all their toys, and would gladly have sold them too!

Still, the children were happy, because they had each other. As the years passed the princes grew up kind and good, and Eliza grew more beautiful every day.

The new queens' jealousy was terrible to see. She could not bear to have such children near her. So, early one morning, she woke the eleven princes and led them, sleepy and yawning, down to the dewy garden. There she touched each boy in turn upon the cheek.

"Now! Become black crows and fly away for ever!"

But the wicked queen's magic was blunted by their goodness. Instead of ugly crows, the princes turned into wild, white swans.

"Fly!" She shrieked in fury. "May huntsmen shoot you down!"

And they flew away in silence - because, of course, a swan has no voice.

Next, the Queen woke Eliza.

"It's time to wake up," she said. "Your bath is ready."

But when Eliza lay back in the tub, the Queen poured dark brown dye into the water! The Princess's white skin and golden hair were stained as brown as wood.

Later that morning, when the King found out that his sons had disappeared, he was sick with worry.

Then the Queen said, "The gypsies must have stolen them. You should banish all gypsies from your kingdom!"

So the King issued a decree, banishing all gypsies. And when he glimpsed a brown-faced, dark-haired girl in his own hallway, he had her driven straight out of the house.

"Get out of my land!" he shouted.

And his own, dear daughter, the Princess Eliza, hurried away in tears.

Outside the palace gates, Eliza dried her eyes.

"I must find my poor eleven brothers. What can the Queen have done to them? Oh where can they be?"

For days she walked down long, dusty roads, asking everyone she met if they had seen eleven princes. Finally she reached the sea. She washed herself in the surf and the brown dye on her skin and hair bubbled away into the sand. As she did so, she heard the heavy beat of birds' wings. Eleven white swans were flying overhead!

Eliza hid among the dunes and watched as the great white birds landed majestically on the beach. To her amazement, each swan wore a small, gold crown! And when the sun dipped below the horizon, and the stars came out, each swan in turn shook off its feathers - to reveal one of her brothers! Soon all eleven princes stood talking together at the water's edge.

Eliza ran down from the dunes to join them.

"Is it you? Is it really you?"

And the princes crowded around her in joy.

"Eliza! Thank God! The wicked Queen hasn't destroyed you, after all!"

Eliza hugged and kissed each of her brothers. Then she said,

"Let's go home."

The swan-princes looked at each other sadly.

"We can't, Eliza. Only at night are we human. In the daytime, the Queen's magic makes us swans again, and we must fly across the ocean to escape the hunters. Across the water is a beautiful land where the rivers are full of fish to eat. We only come back each night to look for you."

"Then take me with you," Eliza said. "Don't leave me here alone."

Before dawn the eleven princes made a hammock for their sister out of an old fishing net left on the beach. Then, as the sun's first rays sparkled on the sea, their bodies disappeared under feathers, and they were transformed once again into swans.

Eliza stepped on to the net, and the eleven swans picked it up with their beaks.

To either side of her, the huge white wings beat the air, and they began their long journey over the sea. Carrying Eliza, the swans could fly only slowly, and at dusk they were still miles from lad. At any moment, the swans would turn back into princes, and fall from the sky!

Far below them, one small rock, no bigger than a table, rose out of the rolling sea. The eleven swans dived as one, and at the very moment they landed, their feathers disappeared.

All night long, the brothers and their sister clung tightly to one another to keep from being washed off by the pounding sea.

In the morning, the swan-princes flew on to their new homeland. They set Eliza down outside a warm cave and she stroked their heads as they lay werily on the sand.

Each day the swans went in search of food. Sometimes they would come home trembling.

"Today the Duke who rules this country almost shot me down. Look when his arrow grazed my back!"

Then Eliza would tremble, too. She longed for some way of saving her brothers from their terrible half-life.

One day, Eliza was walking to the nearby city when she passed an ancient graveyard. There she met a wise old woman, and decided to ask her advice.

"Please help me," she begged when she had told her story. "Sooner or later they will all be shot by hunters."

The old woman looked hard at Eliza, then smiled sadly.

"Calm yourself, child. There is a way of saving your brothers. But you will need to be very brave."

"I'll do anything"

"Then listen carefully. With your bare hands, you must pick nettles from the graveyard behind this house. Then you must pound the nettles into flax with your bard feet, and weave the flax into eleven shirts. When all eleven are finished - not before - give them to your brothers, and they will be men again. But from the moment you grasp the first nettle until the last shirt is put on, you must not speak one word. If you do, all your brothers will surely die."

Eliza was already running towards the graveyard. She tore up handfuls of cruel nettles, and her poor hands were soon burning and blistered. But she did not even glance at them. She carried the nettles back to the cave, and trampled them with her bare feet. By the time the swans flew home at sunset, she was already spinning thread.

When her brothers saw what she was doing, they understood and wept for her sacrifice. Their tears fell on to her blistered hands and feet, and eased the pain.

Day after day, Eliza picked more nettles and trampled, wove and spun them into cloth. Then, one day, when she had almost finished the task, the Duke himself caught sight of her lovely face. She was in the graveyard, gathering nettles.

"Who are you, maiden?" He asked, taking her bundle from her - and dropping it in pain.

She longed to tell him the whole story, but dared not speak.

"You must come to the palace with me. I'll have the royal doctor look at your poor hands - then I'll dress you in velvet!"

The Duke walked with Eliza as far as the cave, pleading in vain for answers to his questions. He grew impatient.

"Even if you are dumb, by heaven, I will take you with me!"

Eliza just had time to snatch up the ten shirts she had made - and the eleventh which was almost finished - before the Duke lifted her on to his horse and rode to the palace. Her wide eyes implored him to let her go. But she was so lovely that the more he looked at her, the more he wanted her.

He took her to a gorgeous room, locked the door, and sent for the royal doctor.

"She is dumb and her hands and feet are burned! Can she be cured?"

"Perhaps, perhaps," replied the royal doctor. "Take me to her. At least I can give her lotions to ease her pain."

But as the two men climbed the stairway to her bedroom, they heard the clatter of a window. Eliza was escaping!

"I must finish the eleventh shirt!"

The Duke and doctor followed Eliza to the graveyard. From behind the headstones they watched her picking nettles.

"She's a witch!" hissed the doctor. "She picks them for her potions and spells! A witch! A witch!"

Soldiers came, and Eliza was dragged off to prison. The Duke begged her to explain.

"You will be burned at the stake tomorrow unless you tell us why you were picking nettles in the graveyard!"

But Eliza could not explain - she had to stay silent. She was thrown into a dark cell, with her bundle beside her. And there, that night, she trampled and spun the nettles for the eleventh shirt. At dawn the executioner came to fetch her.

The prison cart swayed and bumped along the road, but Eliza saw nothing of the angry crowds or the waiting stake - she was still sewing the pieces of the eleventh shirt. As she was pulled from the cart, she clutched the work to her.

Then the executioner led her towards the stake.

The fire was just being lit when the sound of beating wings was heard in the sky. The crowd gaped up as eleven wild swans flew low over their heads, and landed in a circle around the stake.

One by one, Eliza threw the nettle shirts over each narrow head and long neck.

As the coarse green cloth touched the white feathers, the swans were transformed into princes.

The crowd gasped in amazement, and Eliza poured out the whole story of her struggle to save her brothers. Then the Duke stepped forward and led her from the stake.

"Now speak, Eliza! Will you marry me?"

And the Princess Eliza looked up at him, took his hand, and softly said, "I will."