There was once a merchant who had three daughters. The two older ones
were handsome enough, but the third was a beauty, and no mistake; her
eyes were as blue as the sky, her hair was as black as ebony, and her
cheeks were like roses. The merchant loved his two older daughters
dearly, but this Beauty was the darling of his heart.
Things went along pleasantly for a long time, and the merchant was rich
and prosperous, but then things began to go wrong with him. One after
another of his ships was lost at sea, and a great part of his fortune
with them.
One day the merchant called his daughters to him and said, “My
children, I find it will be necessary for me to go on a long journey. I
am no longer a rich man, but I wish to bring home a gift to each one of
you, so tell me what you would like to have.”
Then the two older daughters began to think of all the things they
wanted, and each was afraid the other would get something finer than
she did.
At last the eldest spoke, “Dear father,” said she, “I wish you would
bring me a velvet robe embroidered with gold, and shoes to match, and a
fan to wave in my hand.”
“And I,” said the second, “would like a necklace of pearls, and pearls
for my hair, and a fine bracelet.”
The merchant was troubled that his daughters should ask for such costly
things, but he did not like to refuse them. “And you, Beauty,” said he,
turning to his youngest daughter, “what will you have?”
“Dear father,” said she, “you have given me so much that I have nothing
left to wish for; but if you bring me anything at all let it be a rose.”
When her older sisters heard this they were very angry. They thought
that Beauty had asked only for a rose so that she might shame them
before their father, and make him think she was more unselfish than
they were. But Beauty had had no such thought as that.
The merchant smiled at his youngest daughter and kissed her thrice,
but his older daughters he kissed only once. Then he mounted his horse
and rode away.
He journeyed on for several days, and at last he reached the city he
was bound for. Here he found he had lost even more of his fortune than
he had thought. He was now a poor man. Still he managed to buy the
gifts his two older daughters had asked for, and then with a sad heart
he set out for home.
He had not journeyed far, however, when he was overtaken by a storm and
lost himself in a deep forest. He rode this way and that, trying to
find the way out, and then suddenly he came to an open place, and there
he saw before him a magnificent castle.
The merchant was amazed. He had never heard of such a castle in that
forest. He rode up to the door and knocked, hoping to find shelter for
the night.
Scarcely had he knocked when the great door swung open before him. He
entered and looked about, no one was there; everything was silent.
Wondering he went on into one room after another. Everything was very
magnificent and well arranged, but nowhere was a soul to be seen. At
last he came to a room where a supper was set out. The plates were all
of gold, and the fruits and meats were of the rarest and most delicious
kinds.
The merchant was so hungry that he sat down at the table, and at once
the food was served to him by invisible hands, while soft music sounded
from a hidden room beyond.
He ate heartily and then arose and went in search of a place to sleep.
This he soon found. A bed had been made ready in a large chamber, and
here he undressed and lying down he slept until morning without being
disturbed.
When he awoke he found his own travel-stained clothes had been taken
away. In their place a handsome suit had been laid out, and other
necessary things, all of the richest kind. There was also a bag filled
with gold pieces. Wondering still more, the merchant arose and dressed
and went out into the gardens to look about him. Here everything was
more beautiful than any garden he had ever seen before. There were
winding paths and fountains, and fruit-trees and flowering plants.
Beside one of the fountains was a rose-bush covered with the roses. The
sight of these roses reminded the merchant of Beauty’s wish, and he
thought it would be no harm to break off one to carry to her. He chose
the largest and finest rose. Scarcely had he plucked it, however, when
the air was filled with a sound of thunder, the ground rocked under his
feet, and a terrible looking beast appeared before him.
“Miserable man!” cried the Beast, “what have you done? All the best in
the castle was offered to you. Why have you broken my rose-bush that is
dearer to me than anything in the world? Now for this you must surely
die.”
The merchant was terrified. “Oh, dear, good Beast do not kill me!” he
cried. “I meant no harm. Only let me go, and I will never trouble you
again.”
“No, no,” answered the Beast. “You shall not escape so easily. You have
broken my rose-bush and you must suffer for it.”
Still the merchant begged and entreated to be spared and at last the
Beast had pity on him. “If I spare your life,” said he, “what will you
give me in return for it?”
“Alas,” said the merchant, “what can I give you? I have lost all my
fortune and I am now a poor man. I have nothing left in the world but
my three daughters.”
“Give me one of your daughters for a wife and I will be satisfied,”
said the Beast.
The merchant was horrified at the thought of such a thing. He would
have refused, but he feared that if he did so the Beast would tear him
to pieces at once.
“You may have three months in which to think it over,” said the Beast.
“But you must promise me that at the end of that time you will return
here and either bring me one of your daughters or come prepared to die.”
The merchant was obliged to promise this; he could not help himself. As
soon as he had promised the Beast disappeared and the man was free to
go, and this he was not slow to do.
He rode on toward his home and his heart was heavy within him. He did
not see how he could possibly give one of his daughters to be the
bride of a hideous beast and yet he did not wish to die.
His daughters met him with joy, and the two older sisters were
delighted when they saw the beautiful gifts he had brought them. Only
Beauty noticed his sad and downcast looks.
“Dear father,” said she, “why are you troubled? Has something
unfortunate happened to you?”
At first her father would not tell her, but she urged and entreated
him to tell her until finally he could keep silence no longer. He told
his daughters all about the castle and his adventure there and of the
Beast, and of how unless one of them would consent to marry the Beast
he would have to lose his life.
When the older daughters heard this they were ready to faint. Not even
to save their father’s life could they consent to marry such a creature.
“Dear father,” said Beauty, “you shall not die. I will be the Beast’s
bride.”
“Yes, yes,” cried her sisters. “That is only right. If Beauty had not
asked for the rose this misfortune would not have happened.”
To this the merchant would not at first agree. Beauty was the dearest
to him of all his daughters. He had hoped that if any of them was to
marry the Beast it might be one of the older sisters. But they would
not hear of this and when, at the end of three months, the merchant set
out to return to the castle he took Beauty with him.
They rode along and rode along and after awhile they came to the
forest, and then it did not take the merchant long to find the castle.
He knocked at the door, and it opened as before, and he and Beauty went
in through one room after another, and everything was so magnificent
that she could not but admire it. At last they came to the supper-room,
and here a delicious feast was set out for them. They sat down and ate
while soft music sounded around them. Beauty began to think the master
of all this could not be such a terrible creature after all.
But scarcely had they finished their supper before the Beast appeared
before them, and when Beauty saw him she began to shake and tremble,
for he was even more dreadful looking than her father had said.
“Do not fear me, Beauty,” he said in a gentle voice. “I will do you no
harm. Your father has brought you here, and it is true that here you
must stay, but you need not marry me unless you are quite willing to.”
“I do not wish to marry you, Beast, and you must know that,” said
Beauty. “But I fear that if I do not you may harm my father.”
“No, Beauty, I will not harm him. He may go in peace, and perhaps after
you have been here awhile you may learn to like me enough to marry me.”
Beauty did not believe this, but the Beast spoke so gently that she no
longer feared him and when the time came for her father to go she bade
him good-by and did not grieve him by weeping.
After that Beauty lived there in the Beast’s castle and was well
content. Every day she went out into the gardens, and the Beast came
and played with her for awhile, and she grew very fond of him. Every
day before he left her he said, “Beauty, are you willing to marry me?”
But always Beauty answered, “No, dear Beast, I do not wish to marry
you.”
Then the Beast would sigh heavily and go away.
One day Beauty was sitting before a large mirror in her room, and she
was sad because she had not seen her father for so long.
“I wish,” said she, “that I could see what my dear father is doing at
this moment.”
As she said this she raised her eyes to the mirror. What was her
surprise to see in it the reflection of a room quite different from the
one she was in. It was a room in her own home that she saw reflected
there. She saw in it the images of her father and sisters. She could
see them smile and move, and she could tell exactly what they were
doing. She found she could watch them in the mirror for as long as she
pleased and whenever she pleased.
After this Beauty often came to sit before the mirror, and she had only
to wish it and she could see her home, and all that was going on there.
But one day when she sat down before the glass she saw that her
father was ill. He lay upon his bed so pale and weak that Beauty was
terrified. She jumped up and ran out into the garden calling for the
Beast.
At once he appeared before her. “What is it?” asked the Beast
anxiously. “What has frightened you, Beauty?”
“Alas,” she cried, “my father is ill. Oh, dear, kind Beast let me go to
him I pray, and I will love you for ever after.”
The Beast looked very grave. “Very well, Beauty,” he said, “I will let
you go, for I can refuse you nothing. But promise me you will return at
the end of a week, for if you do not some great misfortune will happen
to me.”
Beauty was very willing to promise this. The Beast then gave her a ring
set with a large ruby. “When you go to bed to-night,” he said, “turn
the ruby in toward the palm of your hand and wish you were in your
father’s house, and in the morning you will find you are there. When
you are ready to return do the same thing, and you will find yourself
back in the castle again. And do not forget that by the end of a week,
to an hour, you must return or you will bring suffering upon me.”
Beauty did as the Beast told her. That night when she lay down she
turned the ruby of the ring in toward the palm of her hand and wished
she were in her father’s house, and what was her joy, when she awakened
the next morning, to find herself in her own bed at home. She arose and
ran to her father’s room, and the merchant was so delighted to see her
that from that hour he began to get better, and in a few days he was as
well as ever again.
Beauty’s sisters asked her a great many questions about the castle
where she lived, and when they heard how fine it was, and how happy she
was there, they were filled with envy. “Beauty always gets the best
of everything,” they said to each other. “She is younger than either
of us, and see how finely she lives; much better than we do.” They
then planned together as to how they could keep Beauty from going back
to the castle at the end of the week. “If we can only make her break
her promise to the Beast,” said they, “he might be so angry with her
that he would send her away and take one of us to live at his castle
instead.”
The day before Beauty was to return to the Beast they put a
sleeping-powder in the goblet that she drank from.
As soon as Beauty had swallowed this powder she became very sleepy.
Her eyelids weighed like lead, and presently she fell into a deep
slumber, and she did not awaken for two days and nights. At the end of
that time Beauty had a dream, and in her dream she walked in the castle
gardens. She came to the rose-bush beside the fountain, and there lay
the poor Beast stretched out on the ground, and he was almost dead. He
opened his eyes and looked at her sadly. “Ah, Beauty, Beauty,” he said,
“why did you break your promise to return at the end of a week? See
what suffering you have brought on me.”
Beauty awoke, sobbing bitterly. “Alas, alas!” she cried. “I must go at
once. I feel some harm has come to the Beast, and that it is my fault,
though how I do not know.” For she did not know she had been asleep for
two days and nights.
She turned the ruby ring with the ruby toward the palm of her hand, and
wished herself back in the castle and then lay down and went to sleep.
When she awoke she was in the castle again, and it was early morning.
She ran out into the garden, and straight to the rose-bush. There, as
in her dream, she saw the Beast stretched out on the ground, and he
seemed to be without life or breath. Beauty threw herself down on the
ground and took his head in her lap, and her tears ran down and fell
upon him, and it seemed to her she did not love even her father as
dearly as she loved the Beast. “Oh, Beast—dear, dear Beast,” she cried,
“can you not hear me? Are you quite, quite dead?”
Then the Beast opened his eyes and looked at her. “Ah, Beauty,” he
said, “I thought you had deserted me. Do you not yet love me enough to
marry me?”
“Oh, I do! I do love you enough, and gladly will I be your bride,”
cried Beauty.
No sooner had she said this than the rough furry hide of the Beast
fell apart, and a handsome young prince all dressed in white satin and
silver stood before her. Beauty looked at him wondering. “Yes, you
shall indeed be my own dear bride,” cried the Prince, “for you and you
alone have broken the enchantment that held me.”
Then the Prince, a Beast no longer, told Beauty that a wicked fairy
had changed him into the shape of a Beast, and not until a fair young
maiden would love him enough to be his bride would the enchantment be
broken. But Beauty had loved him for his kindness and goodness in spite
of his ugly form, and now never again could the wicked fairy have any
power over him.
And now all through the castle was heard a sound of life and of voices
and of running to and fro. For the same enchantment that had changed
the Prince to a Beast had made all his people invisible, and now, they
too were freed from the spell.
Then how happy Beauty was. If she had loved the Beast she loved the
handsome young Prince a thousand times better. A grand wedding feast
was prepared, and her father and sisters were sent for. Her father was
given the place of honor, but it was quite different with her sisters;
because of their hard hearts they were changed into two statues and
they stood one on either side of the doorway.
But Beauty was too gentle to bear them any ill-will. After she was
married she often used to go and stand beside the statues and talk to
them, and her tears fell upon them so that after awhile their hard
hearts grew soft and the stone melted back to flesh again. Then they
were all very happy together. The two sisters were married to two
noblemen of the court.
As for Beauty and the Prince, nothing could equal their love for each
other, and they lived together happy forever after, and no further harm
ever came to them.
[Illustration]