SEVENTEEN years, day by day, had elapsed since the fairies’ decree. The
Princess was as beautiful as a star. The King, Queen, and Court were
in residence at the rural palace of Eaux-Perdues. Need I relate what
happened then? It is well known how the Princess Aurore, wandering one
day through the castle, came to the top of a keep, where, in a garret,
she found a dear old woman, all alone, plying her distaff. She had never
heard of the King’s regulations, forbidding the use of spindles.
“What are you doing, my good woman?” asked the Princess.
“I am spinning, my dear child,” replied the old woman, who did not
recognize her.
“Ah, how pretty it looks,” replied the Princess. “How do you do it? Give
it to me, that I may see if I can do it as well.”
No sooner had she picked up the spindle, than she pricked her hand with
it, and fell swooning.{*} King Cloche, when he heard that the fairies’
decree had been accomplished, ordered that the sleeping Princess should
be placed in the Blue Chamber, on a bed of azure embroidered with
silver. Shocked, and full of consternation, the courtiers made ready to
weep, practised sighing, and assumed an expression of deep affliction.
Intrigues were formed in every direction; it was reported that the King
had discharged his Ministers. The blackest calumnies were hatched. It
was said that the Duc de La Rochecoupée had concocted a draught to
send the Princess to sleep, and that Monsieur de Boulingrin was his
accomplice.
* Contes de Perrault, édition Aadré Lefevre, p. 86-108
The Duchess of Cicogne climbed the secret staircase to the chambers of
her old friend, whom she found in his night-cap, smiling, for he was
reading _La Fiancée du roi de Garbe_.
Cicogne told him the news, and how the Princess was lying on a blue bed
in a state of lethargy.
The Secretary of State listened attentively.
“You do not believe, I hope, my dear friend, that the fairies have
anything to do with it?” he said.
For he did not believe in fairies, although three of them, ancient and
venerable, had overpowered him with their love and their staves, and had
drenched him to the skin in a disgusting liquid, in order to prove their
existence to him. The defect of the experimental method pursued by
these ladies is that the experiment was addressed to the senses, whose
testimony one can always challenge.
“The fairies have had everything to do with it!” cried the Duchess. “The
Princess’s accident may have the most unfortunate results for you and
for me. People will not fail to attribute it to the incapacity of the
Ministers, and possibly to their malevolence. Can one tell how far
calumny may reach? You are already accused of niggardliness. According
to what is being said, you refused, on my advice, to pay for warders for
the young and unfortunate Princess. Worse than that, there are rumours
of black magic, of casting spells. The storm has got to be faced. Show
yourself, or you are lost!”
“Calumny,” said Boulingrin, “is the curse of this world. It has killed
the greatest of men. Whoever honestly serves his King must make up his
mind to pay tribute to that crawling, flying horror.”
“Boulingrin,” said Cicogne, “get dressed.” And she snatched off his
night-cap, and threw it down by the bed-side.
A few minutes later they were in the antechamber of the apartment in
which Aurore was sleeping, and seating themselves on a bench they waited
to be introduced.
Now at the news that the decree of the Fates had been accomplished, the
fairy Vivien, one of the Princess’s godmothers, repaired in great haste
to Eaux-Perdues, and in order that when she awoke her god-daughter
should have a Court she touched every one in the castle with her ring.
“Governesses, maids of honour, women of the bedchamber, noblemen,
officers, grooms of the chamber, cooks, scullions, messengers, guards,
beadles, pages, and footmen; she also touched the horses in the stables,
the grooms, the great mastiffs in the yard, and little Pouffe, the
Princess’s lap-dog, which lay near her upon her bed. The very spits
in front of the fire, loaded with pheasants and partridges, went to
sleep.” {*}
* Contes de Perrault, édition Aadré Lefevre, p. 87
Meanwhile, Cicogne and Boulingrin waited side by side upon their bench.
“Boulingrin,” whispered the Duchess in her old friend’s ear, “does it
not seem to you that there is something suspicious in this business?
Don’t you suspect an intrigue on the part of the King’s brothers to get
the poor man to abdicate? He is well known as a good father. They may
well have wished to throw him into despair.”
“It is possible,” answered the Secretary of State. “In any case
the fairies have nothing whatever to do with the matter. Only old
countrywomen can still believe these cock-and-bull stories.”
“Be quiet, Boulingrin,” said the Duchess. “There is nothing so hateful
as a sceptic. He is an impertinent person who laughs at our simplicity.
I detest strong-minded people; I believe what I ought to believe; but in
this particular case, I suspect a dark intrigue.”
At the moment when Cicogne spoke these words, the fairy Vivien touched
them both with her ring, and sent them to sleep like the rest.