giant, and therefore he again entreated the woman to take him in for
one night only, and hide him where she thought proper. She at last
suffered herself to be persuaded, for she was of a compassionate and
generous disposition, and took him into the house. First, they entered
a fine large hall, magnificently furnished; they then passed through
several spacious rooms, in the same style of grandeur; but all
appeared forsaken and desolate. A long gallery came next; it was very
dark--just light enough to show that, instead of a wall on one side,
there was a grating of iron which parted off a dismal dungeon, from
whence issued the groans of those victims whom the cruel giant
reserved in confinement for his own voracious appetite. Poor Jack was
half dead with fear, and would have given the world to have been with
his mother again, for he now began to doubt if he should ever see her
more; he even mistrusted the good woman, and thought she had let him
into the house for no other purpose than to lock him up among the
unfortunate people in the dungeon. However, she bade Jack sit down,
and gave him plenty to eat and drink; and he, not seeing anything to
make him uncomfortable, soon forgot his fear and was just beginning to
enjoy himself, when he was startled by a loud knocking at the outer
door, which made the whole house shake.
"Ah! that's the giant; and if he sees you he will kill you and me
too," cried the poor woman, trembling all over. "What shall I do?"
"Hide me in the oven," cried Jack, now as bold as a lion at the
thought of being face to face with his father's cruel murderer. So he
crept into the oven--for there was no fire near it--and listened to
the giant's loud voice and heavy step as he went up and down the
kitchen scolding his wife. At last he seated himself at table, and
Jack, peeping through a crevice in the oven, was amazed to see what a
quantity of food he devoured. It seemed as if he never would have done
eating and drinking; but he did at last, and, leaning back, called to
his wife in a voice like thunder:
"Bring me my hen!"
She obeyed, and placed upon the table a very beautiful live hen.
"Lay!" roared the giant, and the hen laid immediately an egg of solid
gold.
"Lay another!" and every time the giant said this the hen laid a
larger egg than before.
He amused himself a long time with his hen, and then sent his wife to
bed, while he fell asleep by the fireside, and snored like the roaring
of cannon.
As soon as he was asleep, Jack crept out of the oven, seized the hen,
and ran off with her. He got safely out of the house, and finding his
way along the road he came, reached the top of the bean-stalk, which
he descended in safety.
His mother was overjoyed to see him. She thought he had come to some
ill end.
"Not a bit of it, mother. Look here!" and he showed her the hen. "Now
lay;" and the hen obeyed him as readily as the giant, and laid as many
golden eggs as he desired.
These eggs being sold, Jack and his mother got plenty of money, and
for some months lived very happily together; till Jack got another
great longing to climb the bean-stalk, and carry away some more of the
giant's riches. He had told his mother of his adventure, but had been
very careful not to say a word about his father. He thought of his
journey again and again, but still he could not summon resolution
enough to break it to his mother, being well assured that she would
endeavour to prevent his going. However, one day he told her boldly,
that he must take another journey up the bean-stalk; she begged and
prayed him not to think of it, and tried all in her power to dissuade
him. She told him that the giant's wife would certainly know him
again, and that the giant would desire nothing better than to get him
into his power, that he might put him to a cruel death, in order to be
revenged for the loss of his hen. Jack, finding that all his arguments
were useless, ceased speaking, though resolved to go at all events. He
had a dress prepared which would disguise him, and something to colour
his skin; he thought it impossible for any one to recollect him in
this dress.
A few mornings after, he rose very early, and, unperceived by any one,
climbed the bean-stalk a second time. He was greatly fatigued when he
reached the top, and very hungry. Having rested some time on one of
the stones, he pursued his journey to the giant's mansion, which he
reached late in the evening: the woman was at the door as before. Jack
addressed her, at the same time telling her a pitiful tale, and
requesting that she would give him some victuals and drink, and also a
night's lodging.
She told him (what he knew before very well) about her husband's being
a powerful and cruel giant, and also that she had one night admitted a
poor, hungry, friendless boy; that the little ungrateful fellow had
stolen one of the giant's treasures; and ever since that her husband
had been worse than before, using her very cruelly, and continually
upbraiding her with being the cause of his misfortune. Jack felt sorry
for her, but confessed nothing, and did his best to persuade her to
admit him, but found it a very hard task. At last she consented, and
as she led the way, Jack observed that everything was just as he had
found it before: she took him into the kitchen, and after he had done
eating and drinking, she hid him in an old lumber-closet. The giant
returned at the usual time, and walked in so heavily, that the house
was shaken to its foundation. He seated himself by the fire, and soon
after exclaimed: "Wife, I smell fresh meat!"
The wife replied it was the crows, which had brought a piece of raw
meat, and left it at the top of the house. While supper was preparing,
the giant was very ill-tempered and impatient, frequently lifting up
his hand to strike his wife for not being quick enough. He was also
continually upbraiding her with the loss of his wonderful hen.
At last, having ended his supper, he cried, "Give me something to
amuse me--my harp or my money-bags."
"Which will you have, my dear?" said the wife, humbly.
"My money-bags, because they are the heaviest to carry," thundered he.
She brought them, staggering under the weight: two bags--one filled
with new guineas, and the other with new shillings; she emptied them
out on the table, and the giant began counting them in great glee.
"Now you may go to bed, you old fool." So the wife crept away.
Jack from his hiding-place watched the counting of the money, which he
knew was his poor father's, and wished it was his own; it would give
him much less trouble than going about selling the golden eggs. The
giant, little thinking he was so narrowly observed, reckoned it all
up, and then replaced it in the two bags, which he tied up very
carefully and put beside his chair, with his little dog to guard them.
At last he fell asleep as before, and snored so loud, that Jack
compared his noise to the roaring of the sea in a high wind, when the
tide is coming in. At last Jack, concluding all secure, stole out, in
order to carry off the two bags of money; but just as he laid his hand
upon one of them, the little dog, which he had not perceived before,
started from under the giant's chair and barked most furiously.
Instead of endeavouring to escape, Jack stood still, though expecting
his enemy to awake every instant. Contrary, however, to his
expectation, the giant continued in a sound sleep, and Jack, seeing a
piece of meat, threw it to the dog, who at once ceased barking, and
began to devour it. So Jack carried off the bags, one on each
shoulder, but they were so heavy that it took him two whole days to
descend the bean-stalk and get back to his mother's door.
When he came he found the cottage deserted. He ran from one room to
another, without being able to find any one; he then hastened into the
village, hoping to see some of the neighbours, who could inform him
where he could find his mother. An old woman at last directed him to a
neighbouring house, where she was ill of a fever. He was greatly
shocked at finding her apparently dying, and blamed himself bitterly
as the cause of it all. However, at sight of her dear son, the poor
woman revived, and slowly recovered health. Jack gave her his two
money-bags; they had the cottage rebuilt and well furnished, and lived
happier than they had ever done before.
For three years Jack heard no more of the bean-stalk, but he could not
forget it, though he feared making his mother unhappy. It was in vain
endeavouring to amuse himself; he became thoughtful, and would arise
at the first dawn of day, and sit looking at the bean-stalk for hours
together. His mother saw that something preyed upon his mind, and
endeavoured to discover the cause; but Jack knew too well what the
consequence would be should she succeed. He did his utmost, therefore,
to conquer the great desire he had for another journey up the
bean-stalk. Finding, however, that his inclination grew too powerful
for him, he began to make secret preparations for his journey. He got
ready a new disguise, better and more complete than the former; and
when summer came, on the longest day he awoke as soon as it was light,
and without telling his mother, ascended the bean-stalk. He found the
road, journey, &c., much as it was on the two former times. He arrived
at the giant's mansion in the evening, and found the wife standing, as
usual, at the door. Jack had disguised himself so completely, that she
did not appear to have the least recollection of him; however, when he
pleaded hunger and poverty, in order to gain admittance, he found it
very difficult indeed to persuade her. At last he prevailed, and was
concealed in the copper. When the giant returned, he said furiously,
"I smell fresh meat!" But Jack felt quite composed, as he had said so
before, and had been soon satisfied. However, the giant started up
suddenly, and, notwithstanding all his wife could say, he searched all
round the room. Whilst this was going forward, Jack was exceedingly
terrified, wishing himself at home a thousand times; but when the
giant approached the copper, and put his hand upon the lid, Jack
thought his death was certain. However, nothing happened; for the
giant did not take the trouble to lift up the lid, but sat down
shortly by the fireside, and began to eat his enormous supper. When he
had finished, he commanded his wife to fetch down his harp. Jack
peeped under the copper-lid, and saw a most beautiful harp. The giant
placed it on the table, said "Play!" and it played of its own accord,
without anybody touching it, the most exquisite music imaginable.
Jack, who was a very good musician, was delighted, and more anxious to
get this than any other of his enemy's treasures. But the giant not
being particularly fond of music, the harp had only the effect of
lulling him to sleep earlier than usual. As for the wife, she had gone
to bed as soon as ever she could.
As soon as he thought all was safe, Jack got out of the copper, and
seizing the harp, was eagerly running off with it. But the harp was
enchanted by a fairy, and as soon as it found itself in strange hands,
it called out loudly, just as if it had been alive, "Master! Master!"
The giant awoke, started up, and saw Jack scampering away as fast as
his legs could carry him.
"Oh you villain! it is you who have robbed me of my hen and my
money-bags, and now you are stealing my harp also. Wait till I catch
you, and I'll eat you up alive!"
"Very well; try!" shouted Jack, who was not a bit afraid, for he saw
the giant was so tipsy he could hardly stand, much less run; and he
himself had young legs and a clear conscience, which carry a man a
long way. So, after leading the giant a considerable race, he
contrived to be first at the top of the bean-stalk, and then scrambled
down it as fast as he could, the harp playing all the while the most
melancholy music till he said, "Stop," and it stopped.
Arrived at the bottom, he found his mother sitting at her
cottage-door, weeping silently.
"Here, mother, don't cry; just give me a hatchet; make haste." For he
knew there was not a moment to spare; he saw the giant beginning to
descend the bean-stalk.
However, it was too late--the monster's ill deeds had come to an end.
Jack with his hatchet cut the bean-stalk close off at the root; the
giant fell headlong into the garden, and was killed on the spot.
Instantly the fairy appeared, and explained everything to Jack's
mother, begging her to forgive Jack, who was his father's own son for
bravery and generosity, and who would be sure to make her happy for
the rest of her days.
So all ended well, and nothing was ever beard or seen of the wonderful
Bean-stalk.
GRACIOSA AND PERCINET.
Once upon a time there lived a king and queen, who had an only
daughter. Her incomparable beauty, sweetness, and intelligence caused
her to be named Graciosa. She was all her mother's joy. Every day she
had given her a different dress, of gold brocade, velvet, or satin;
yet she was neither conceited nor boastful. She used to pass her
mornings in study, and in the afternoon she sat sewing by the queen's
side. She had, however, plenty of play-time, and sweetmeats without
end, so that she was altogether the happiest princess alive.
At the same court was an elderly young lady named Duchess Grognon, who
was the very opposite of Graciosa. Her hair was fiery red, her face
fat and spotty, and she had but one eye. Her mouth was so big that you
might have thought she could eat you up, only she had no teeth to do
it with; she was also humpbacked and lame. Of course she could not
help her ugliness, and nobody would have disliked her for that, if she
had not been of such an unpleasant temper that she hated everything
sweet and beautiful, and especially Graciosa. She had also a very good
opinion of herself, and when any one praised the princess, would say
angrily, "That is a lie! My little finger is worth her whole body."
In course of time the queen fell sick and died, and her daughter was
almost broken-hearted. So was her husband for a year, and then he
began to comfort himself by hunting. One day, after a long chase, he
came to a strange castle, which happened to be that of the Duchess
Grognon. She, informed of his approach, went out to meet him, and
received him most respectfully. As he was very hot with hunting, she
took him into the coolest place in the palace, which was a vaulted
cave, most elegantly furnished, where there were two hundred barrels
arranged in long rows.
"Madam, are these all yours?" inquired the king.
"Yes, sire, but I shall be most happy if you will condescend to taste
their contents. Which wine do you prefer--canary, hermitage,
champagne?" and she ran over a long list, out of which his majesty
made his choice.
Grognon took a little hammer, and struck "toc, toc," on the cask, from
which there rolled out a handful of silver money. "Nay, what is this?"
said she, smiling, and passed on to the next, from which, when she
tapped it, out poured a stream of gold coins. "I never saw the
like--what nonsense!" and she tried the third, out of which came a
heap of pearls and diamonds, so that the floor of the cave was strewn
with them. "Sire," she exclaimed, "some one has robbed me of my good
wine, and put this rubbish in its place."
"Rubbish, madam! Why, such rubbish would buy my whole kingdom."
"It is yours, sire," replied the duchess, "if you will make me your
queen."
The king, who was a great lover of money, replied eagerly, "Certainly,
madam, I'll marry you to-morrow if you will."
Grognon, highly delighted, made but one other condition--that she
should have the Princess Graciosa entirely in her own rule and power,
just as if she had been her real mother; to which the foolish king
consented, for he thought much more of riches than he did of his
child. So he and Grognon departed hand in hand out of the cave, very
well pleased.
When the king returned home, Graciosa ran out with joy to welcome her
father, and asked him if he had had good sport in his hunting.
"Yes, my child," said he, "for I have taken a dove alive."
"Oh, give it me, and I will nourish and cherish it," cried the
princess.
"That is impossible; for it is the Duchess Grognon, whom I have
promised to marry."
"She a dove!--she is rather a hawk," sighed the princess in despair;
but her father bade her hold her tongue, and promise to love her
stepmother, who would have over her all the authority of a mother, and
to whom he wished to present her that very day.
The obedient princess went to her apartment, where her nurse soon
found out the sorrow in her face, and its cause.
"My child," said the good old woman, "princesses ought to show a good
example to humbler women. Promise me to do your best to please your
father, and to make yourself agreeable to the stepmother he has
chosen for you. She may not be so bad after, all."
And the nurse gave so much good advice, that Graciosa began to smile,
and dressed herself in her best attire, a green robe embroidered with
gold; while her fair, loose-falling hair was adorned, according to the
fashion of the day, with a coronet of jasmine, of which the leaves
were made of large emeralds.
Grognon, on her part, made the best of herself that was possible. She
put on a high-heeled shoe to appear less lame, she padded her
shoulders, dyed her red hair black, and put in a false eye; then
dressed herself in a hooped petticoat of violet satin trimmed with
blue, and an upper gown of yellow with green ribands. In this costume,
she wished to enter the city on horseback, as she understood the
queens were in the habit of doing.
Meantime, Graciosa waited in fear the moment of her arrival, and, to
pass the time away, she went all alone into a little wood, where she
sobbed and wept in secret, until suddenly there appeared before her a
young page, whom she had never seen before.
"Who are you?" she inquired; "and when did his majesty take you into
his service?"
"Princess," said the page, bowing, "I am in no one's service but your
own. I am Percinet, a prince in my own country, so that there is no
inequality of rank between us. I have loved you long, and seen you
often, for I have the fairy gift of making myself invisible. I might
longer have concealed myself from you, but for your present sorrow,
in which, however, I hope to be of both comfort and assistance--a page
and yet a prince, and your faithful lover."
At these words, at once tender and respectful, the princess, who had
long heard of the fairy-prince Percinet, felt so happy that she feared
Grognon no more. They talked a little while together, and then
returned to the palace, where the page assisted her to mount her
horse; on which she looked so beautiful, that all the new queen's
splendours faded into nothing in comparison, and not one of the
courtiers had eyes for any except Graciosa.
As soon as Grognon saw it, "What!" cried she, "has this creature the
impudence to be better mounted than myself! Descend, Miss, and let me
try your horse;--and your page, whom everybody thinks so much of, bid
him come and hold my bridle."
Prince Percinet, who was the page, cast one look at his fair Graciosa
and obeyed; but no sooner had the duchess mounted, than the horse ran
away with her and dragged her over briers, stones, and mud, and
finally threw her into a deep ditch. Her head was cut in several
places, and her arm fractured. They picked her up in little pieces,
like a broken wineglass; never was there a poor bride in worse plight.
But in spite of her sufferings her malice remained. She sent for the
king:
"This is all Graciosa's fault; she wished to kill me. I desire that
your majesty will punish her, or leave me to do it--else I will
certainly be revenged upon you both."
The king, afraid of losing his casks full of gold pieces, consented,
and Graciosa was commanded to appear. She came trembling and looking
round vainly for Prince Percinet. The cruel Grognon ordered four
women, ugly as witches, to take her and strip off her fine clothes,
and whip her with rods till her white shoulders were red with blood.
But lo! as soon as the rods touched her, they turned into bundles of
feathers, and the women tired themselves to death with whipping,
without hurting Graciosa the least in the world!
"Ah! kind Percinet, what do I not owe you? What should I do without
you!" sighed the princess, when she was taken back to her own chamber
and her nurse. And then she saw the prince standing before her, in his
green dress and his white plume, the most charming of pages.
Percinet advised her to pretend illness on account of the cruel
treatment she was supposed to have received; which so delighted
Grognon, that she got well all the sooner, and the marriage was
celebrated with great splendour.
Soon after, the king, who knew that his wife's weak point was her
vanity, gave a tournament, at which he ordered the six bravest knights
of the court to proclaim that Queen Grognon was the fairest lady
alive. No knight ventured to dispute this fact, until there appeared
one who carried a little box adorned with diamonds, and proclaimed
aloud that Grognon was the ugliest woman in the universe, and that the
most beautiful was she whose portrait was in the box. He opened it,
and behold the image of the Princess Graciosa!
The princess, who sat behind her stepmother, felt sure that the
unknown knight was Percinet; but she dared say nothing. The contest
was fixed for next day; but in the meantime, Grognon, wild with anger,
commanded Graciosa to be taken in the middle of the night to a forest
a hundred leagues distant, full of wolves, lions, tigers, and bears.
In vain the poor maiden implored that the attendants would kill her at
once, rather than leave her in that dreadful place: the queen's orders
must be obeyed; no answer was made to her, but the servants remounted
and rode away. Graciosa, in solitude and darkness, groped through the
forest, sometimes falling against the trunks of trees, sometimes
tearing herself with bushes and briers; at last, overcome with fear
and grief, she sank on the ground, sobbing out, "Percinet, Percinet,
have you forsaken me?"
While she spoke, a bright light dazzled her eyes, the midnight forest
was changed into glittering alleys, at the end of which appeared a
palace of crystal, shining like the sun. She knew it was the doing of
the fairy-prince who loved her, and felt a joy mingled with fear. She
turned to fly, but saw him standing before her, more handsome and
charming than ever.
"Princess," said he, "why are you afraid of me? This is the palace of
the fairy-queen my mother, and the princesses my sisters, who will
take care of you, and love you tenderly. Enter this chariot, and I
will convey you there."
Graciosa entered, and passing through many a lovely forest glade,
where it was clear daylight, and shepherds and shepherdesses were
dancing to merry music, they reached the palace, where the queen and
her two daughters received the forlorn princess with great kindness,
and led her through many rooms of rock-crystal, glittering with
jewels, where, to her amazement, Graciosa saw the history of her own
life, even down to this adventure in the forest, painted on the walls.
"How is this?" she said. "Prince, you know everything about me."
"Yes; and I wish to preserve everything concerning you," said he
tenderly; whereupon Graciosa cast down her eyes. She was only too
happy, and afraid that she should learn to love the fairy-prince too
much.
She spent eight days in his palace--days full of every enjoyment; and
Percinet tried all the arguments he could think of to induce her to
marry him, and remain there for ever. But the good and gentle Graciosa
remembered her father who was once so kind to her, and she preferred
rather to suffer than to be wanting in duty. She entreated Percinet to
use his fairy power to send her home again, and meantime to tell her
what had become of her father.
"Come with me into the great tower there, and you shall see for
yourself."
Thereupon he took her to the top of a tower, prodigiously high, put
her little finger to his lips, and her foot upon his foot. Then he
bade her look, and she saw as hi a picture, or as in a play upon the
stage, the King and Grognon sitting together on their throne. The
latter was telling how Graciosa had hanged herself in a cave.
"She will not be much loss, sire; and as, when dead, she was far too
frightful for you to look at, I have given orders to bury her at
once."
She might well say that, for she had had a large faggot put into a
coffin, and sealed up; the king and all the nation mourned over it;
and now, that she was no more, they declared there never was such a
sweet creature as the lost princess.
The sight of her father's grief quite overcame Graciosa. "Oh,
Percinet!" she cried, "my father believes me dead. If you love me,
take me home."
The prince consented, though very sorrowfully, saying that she was as
cruel to him as Grognon was to her, and mounted with her in his
chariot, drawn by four white stags. As they quitted the courtyard,
they heard a great noise, and Graciosa saw the palace all falling to
pieces with a great crash.
"What is this?" she cried, terrified.
"Princess, my palace, which you forsake, is among the things which are
dead and gone. You will enter it no more till after your burial."
"Prince, you are angry with me," said Graciosa sorrowfully; only she
knew well that she suffered quite as much as he did in thus departing
and quitting him.