Once on a time there was a gentleman who took for a second wife the
haughtiest and proudest woman that had ever been seen. She had two
daughters of the same temper, and who resembled her in everything. The
husband, on his side, had a daughter, but whose gentleness and goodness
were without parallel. She inherited them from her mother, who was the
best creature in the world. The wedding was hardly over before the
stepmother's ill-humour broke out. She could not abide the young girl,
whose good qualities made her own daughters appear more detestable.
She employed her in all the meanest work of the house. It was she who
cleaned the plate, and the stairs, who scrubbed Madame's chamber, and
those of Mesdemoiselles, her daughters. She slept at the top of the
house, in a loft, on a wretched straw mattress, while her sisters
occupied rooms, beautifully floored, in which were the most fashionable
beds, and mirrors wherein they could see themselves from head to foot.
The poor girl bore everything with patience, and did not dare complain
to her father, who would only have scolded her, as his wife governed
him entirely. When she had done her work, she went and placed herself
in the chimney-corner, and sat down amongst the cinders, which caused
her to be called by the household in general Cindertail. The second
daughter, however, who was not so rude as her elder sister, called her
Cinderella. Notwithstanding, Cinderella, in her shabby clothes, looked
a thousand times handsomer than her sisters, however magnificently
attired.
It happened that the King's son gave a ball, and invited to it
all persons of quality. Our two young ladies were included in the
invitation, for they cut a great figure in the neighbourhood. Behold
them in great delight, and very busy choosing the most becoming gowns
and head-dresses. A new mortification for Cinderella, for it was she
who ironed her sisters' linen, and set their ruffles. Nothing was
talked of but the style in which they were to be dressed. "I," said
the eldest, "will wear my red velvet dress and my English point-lace
trimmings." "I," said the youngest, "shall only wear my usual
petticoat; but to make up for that, I shall put on my gold-flowered
mantua, and my necklace of diamonds, which are none of the poorest."
They sent for a good milliner to make up their double-frilled caps,
and bought their patches of the best maker. They called Cinderella to
give them her opinion, for she had excellent taste. Cinderella gave
them the best advice in the world, and even offered to dress their
heads for them, which they were very willing she should do; and whilst
she was about it, they said to her, "Cinderella, shouldst thou like
to go to the ball?" "Alas! Mesdemoiselles, you make game of me; that
would not befit me at all." "Thou art right, they would laugh immensely
to see a Cindertail at a ball!" Any other but Cinderella would have
dressed their heads awry, but she was good natured, and dressed them to
perfection. They could eat nothing for nearly two days, so transported
were they with joy. More than a dozen laces were broken in making
their waists as small as possible, and they were always before their
looking-glasses. At last the happy day arrived. They set off, and
Cinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could. When they
were out of sight, she began to cry. Her godmother, who saw her all in
tears, inquired what ailed her. "I should so like--I should so like--"
she sobbed so much that she could not finish the sentence. "Thou
wouldst so like to go to the ball--Is not that it?" "Alas! yes," said
Cinderella, sighing. "Well, if thou wilt be a good girl, I will take
care thou shalt go." She led her into her chamber, and said to her, "Go
into the garden and bring me a pumpkin." Cinderella went immediately,
gathered the finest she could find, and brought it to her godmother,
unable to guess how the pumpkin could enable her to go to the ball.
Her godmother scooped it out; and, having left nothing but the rind,
struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin was immediately changed into
a beautiful coach gilt all over. She then went and looked into the
mouse-trap, where she found six mice, all alive. She told Cinderella
to lift the door of the mouse-trap a little, and to each mouse, as it
ran out, she gave a tap with her wand, and the mouse was immediately
changed into a fine horse, thereby producing a handsome team of six
horses, of a beautiful dappled mouse-grey colour. As she was in some
difficulty as to what she should make a coachman of, Cinderella said,
"I will go and see if there be not a rat in the rat-trap; we will make
a coachman of him." "Thou art right," said her godmother. "Go and see."
Cinderella brought her the rat-trap, in which there were three great
rats. The Fairy selected one from the three, on account of its ample
beard, and having touched it, it was changed into a fat coachman, who
had the finest moustaches that ever were seen. She then said, "Go into
the garden, thou wilt find there, behind the watering-pot, six lizards,
bring them to me." She had no sooner brought them than the godmother
transformed them into six footmen, who immediately jumped up behind the
coach, with their liveries all covered with lace, and hung on to it as
if they had done nothing else all their lives. The Fairy then said to
Cinderella, "Well, there is something to go to the ball in. Art thou
not well pleased?" "Yes; but am I to go in these dirty clothes?" Her
godmother only touched her with her wand, and in the same instant her
dress was changed to cloth of gold and silver, covered with jewels. She
then gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the world.
When she was thus attired, she got into the coach; but her godmother
advised her, above all things, not to stay out past midnight--warning
her, that if she remained at the ball one minute longer, her coach
would again become a pumpkin; her horses, mice; her footmen, lizards;
and her clothes resume their old appearance. She promised her godmother
she would not fail to leave the ball before midnight, and departed, out
of her senses with joy.
The King's son, who was informed that a grand Princess had arrived
whom nobody knew, ran to receive her. He handed her out of the coach
and led her into the hall, where the company was assembled. There was
immediately a dead silence; they stopped dancing, and the fiddlers
ceased to play, so engrossed was every one in the contemplation of the
great attractions of the unknown lady. Nothing was heard but a low
murmur of "Oh! how lovely she is!" The King himself, old as he was,
could not take his eyes from her, and observed to the Queen, that it
was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and so amiable a person.
All the ladies were intently occupied in examining her head-dress
and her clothes, that they might have some like them the very next
day, provided they could find materials as beautiful, and workpeople
sufficiently clever to make them up.
The King's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and then led
her out to dance. She danced with so much grace that their admiration
of her was increased. A very grand supper was served, of which the
Prince ate not a morsel, so absorbed was he in contemplation of her.
She seated herself beside her sisters, and showed them a thousand
civilities. She shared with them the oranges and citrons which the
Prince had given to her; at which they were much surprised, for she
appeared a perfect stranger to them. Whilst they were in conversation
together, Cinderella heard the clock strike three-quarters past eleven.
She immediately made a profound curtsey to the company, and departed
as quickly as she could. As soon as she had reached home, she went
to find her godmother; and after having thanked her, said she much
wished to go to the ball again the next day, because the King's son
had invited her. While she was occupied in telling her godmother all
that had passed at the ball, the two sisters knocked at the door.
Cinderella went and opened it--"How late you are!" said she to them,
yawning, rubbing her eyes, and stretching herself as if she had but
just awoke. She had not, however, been inclined to sleep since she had
left them. "Hadst thou been at the ball," said one of her sisters to
her, "thou wouldst not have been weary of it. There came to it the most
beautiful Princess--the most beautiful that ever was seen. She paid us
a thousand attentions. She gave us oranges and citrons." Cinderella was
beside herself with delight. She asked them the name of the Princess;
but they replied that nobody knew her; that the King's son was much
puzzled about it, and that he would give everything in the world to
know who she was. Cinderella smiled and said, "She was very handsome,
then? Heavens! how fortunate you are!--Could not I get a sight of her?
Alas! Mademoiselle Javotte, lend me the yellow gown you wear every
day?" "Truly," said Mademoiselle Javotte, "I like that! Lend one's gown
to a dirty Cindertail like you!--I must be very mad indeed!" Cinderella
fully expected this refusal, and was delighted at it, for she would
have been greatly embarrassed if her sister had lent her her gown.
The next day the two sisters went to the ball, and Cinderella also,
but still more splendidly dressed than before. The King's son never
left her side, or ceased saying tender things to her. The young lady
was much amused, and forgot what her godmother had advised her, so
that she heard the clock begin to strike twelve when she did not even
think it was eleven. She rose and fled as lightly as a fawn. The Prince
followed her, but could not overtake her. She dropped one of her glass
slippers, which the Prince carefully picked up. Cinderella reached home
almost breathless, without coach or footmen, and in her shabby clothes,
nothing having remained of all her finery, except one of her little
slippers, the fellow of that she had let fall. The guards at the palace
gate were asked if they had not seen a Princess go out; they answered
that they had seen no one pass but a poorly-dressed girl, who had more
the air of a peasant than of a lady. When the two sisters returned from
the ball, Cinderella asked them if they had been as much entertained as
before, and if the beautiful lady had been present. They said yes, but
that she had fled as soon as it had struck twelve, and so precipitately
that she had let fall one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest
in the world; that the King's son had picked it up; that he had done
nothing but gaze upon it during the remainder of the evening; and
that, undoubtedly, he was very much in love with the beautiful person
to whom the little slipper belonged. They spoke the truth; for a few
days afterwards the King's son caused it to be proclaimed by sound
of trumpet that he would marry her whose foot would exactly match
with the slipper. They began by trying it on the Princesses, then on
the Duchesses, and so on throughout all the Court; but in vain. It
was taken to the two sisters, who did their utmost to force one of
their feet into the slipper, but they could not manage to do so.
Cinderella, who witnessed their efforts and recognised the slipper,
said, laughingly, "Let me see if it will not fit me." Her sisters began
to laugh and ridicule her. The gentleman who had been entrusted to try
the slipper, having attentively looked at Cinderella and found her to
be very handsome, said that it was a very proper request, and that he
had been ordered to try the slipper on all girls without exception. He
made Cinderella sit down, and putting the slipper to her little foot,
he saw it go on easily and fit like wax. Great was the astonishment
of the two sisters, but it was still greater when Cinderella took the
other little slipper out of her pocket and put it on her other foot. At
that moment the godmother arrived, who having given a tap with her wand
to Cinderella's clothes, they became still more magnificent than all
the others she had appeared in. The two sisters then recognised in her
the beautiful person they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves
at her feet to crave her forgiveness for all the ill-treatment she had
suffered from them. Cinderella raised and embracing them, said that she
forgave them with all her heart, and begged them to love her dearly for
the future. They conducted her to the young Prince, dressed just as she
was. He found her handsomer than ever, and a few days afterwards he
married her. Cinderella, who was as kind as she was beautiful, gave her
sisters apartments in the palace, and married them the very same day to
two great lords of the court.
Beauty in woman is a treasure rare
Which we are never weary of admiring;
But a sweet temper is a gift more fair
And better worth the youthful maid's desiring.
That was the boon bestowed on Cinderella
By her wise Godmother--her truest glory.
The rest was "nought but leather and prunella."
Such is the moral of this little story--
Beauties, that charm becomes you more than dress,
And wins a heart with far greater facility.
In short, in all things to ensure success,
The real Fairy gift is Amiability!