Once upon a time there lived in a distant land a King and Queen who
were very unhappy because they had no children; they were more sorry
than words can tell.
At last, however, the Queen had a daughter. There was a very fine
christening. For her godmothers the little Princess had all the fairies
that could be found in the land (there were seven in all), so that each
of them might give her a gift, as was the custom of fairies in those
days. By this means the Princess would be sure to have all the
perfections imaginable.
After the christening was over, all the company returned to the palace,
where a great feast was spread for the fairies. Before each fairy was
placed a magnificent cover, with a case of massive gold in which were a
spoon, a fork, and a knife, all of pure gold set with diamonds and
rubies. But as they were all sitting at table, they saw coming into the
hall a very old fairy, who had not been invited because it was more
than fifty years since she had been out of a certain tower, and she was
believed to be either dead or enchanted.
The King ordered a cover laid for her, but he could not give her a case
of gold such as had been given to the others, for only seven had been
made. The old fairy fancied she was slighted, and muttered some threats
between her teeth. One of the young fairies who sat beside her heard
these threats, and judging that she might give the little Princess some
unlucky gift, went, as soon as they rose from the table, and hid
herself behind the hangings. In this way she could be the one to speak
last, and might be able to repair, in so far as it was possible, any
evil which the old fairy might intend to do.
Meanwhile the fairies began to bestow their gifts upon the Princess.
The youngest gave for her gift that she should be the most beautiful
person in the world; the next, that she should have the wisdom and
understanding of an angel; the third, that she should have wonderful
grace in everything that she did; the fourth, that she should dance
perfectly; the fifth, that she should sing like a nightingale; and the
sixth, that she should play with the greatest charm and skill on every
kind of musical instrument.
When the old fairy’s turn came she stepped forward, shaking her head
more with spite than with age, and said that the Princess should pierce
her hand with a spindle and die of the wound. This terrible gift made
the whole company tremble, and everybody began to weep. At this very
instant the young fairy came out from behind the hangings and, in a
clear voice, said: “Be of good cheer, O King and Queen; not so shall
your daughter die. It is true that I have not the power to undo
entirely what my elder has done. The Princess shall indeed pierce her
hand with a spindle; but instead of dying of the wound she shall only
fall into a deep sleep, which shall last a hundred years, at the end of
which a King’s son shall come and wake her.”
The King resolved to do all in his power to avoid the misfortune
foretold by the old fairy. He immediately issued an edict forbidding
any one, on pain of death, to spin with a distaff and spindle, or even
to have a spindle in his house.
Fifteen or sixteen years afterward, when the King and Queen were at one
of their country villas, the young Princess was running about one day
in the castle. She went from room to room till she came to the top of a
tower, where a good old woman was sitting alone, spinning with her
spindle. This good woman had never heard of the King’s edict against
spindles.
“What are you doing there, my good woman?” said the Princess.
“I am spinning, my pretty child,” said the old woman, who did not know
who she was.
“Oh, how pretty!” exclaimed the Princess. “How do you do it? Let me see
if I can do it.”
She had no sooner taken the spindle than, either because she was very
quick and a trifle heedless, or because the decree of the fairy has so
ordained, she pierced her hand with it and fell in a swoon.
The good old woman, in great alarm, cried out for help. People came
running in from all directions. They threw water on the Princess’s
face; they unlaced her; they struck her on the palms of her hands and
rubbed her temples with cologne water; but nothing would bring her to.
Then the King, who had come up on hearing the noise, remembered the
prediction of the fairies. He knew very well that this must come to
pass, since the fairies had decreed it. He had the Princess carried
into the finest apartment in the palace, and laid upon a bed
embroidered with gold and silver. One would have taken her for a little
angel, she was so beautiful; her cheeks were carnation, and her lips
like coral. Her eyes were closed, it is true, but she was heard to
breathe softly, which satisfied those about her that she was not dead.
The King gave orders that they should let her sleep quietly until the
time came for her to awake.
The good fairy who had saved her life by condemning her to sleep a
hundred years was in the kingdom of Mataquin, twelve thousand leagues
away, when this accident happened to the Princess; but she was promptly
told of it by a little dwarf who had a pair of seven-league boots,—that
is, boots with which he could cover seven leagues of ground at a single
stride. The fairy set out immediately, and arrived at the castle about
an hour later in a fiery chariot drawn by dragons.
The King handed her out of the chariot. She approved everything he had
done; but, as she had great foresight, she thought that when the
Princess awoke she would be much perplexed and troubled at finding
herself all alone in this old palace. So this is what she did. She
touched with her wand everything in the palace except the King and
Queen,—governesses, maids of honor, ladies of the bedchamber,
gentlemen, officers, stewards, cooks, scullions, guards, porters,
pages, and footmen; she touched also all the horses in the stable with
their grooms, the great mastiffs in the courtyard, and even little
Pouste, the Princess’s tiny spaniel that was lying on the bed beside
her.
The moment she touched them they all fell asleep, not to wake again
till their mistress did. This was done in order that they might be
ready to serve her again when she had need of them. Even the spits that
stood before the fire, as full as they could hold of partridges and
pheasants, fell asleep, and the fire itself as well. All this was done
in a moment. Fairies are not long in doing their business!
And now the King and Queen, having kissed their dear child without
waking her, left the castle, issuing a proclamation that no one should
come near it. These commands were not necessary, for in less than a
quarter of an hour there grew up all around the park such a vast number
of trees great and small, and of bushes and brambles, twining one
within another, that neither man nor beast could pass through, and
nothing could be seen but the very top of the towers of the palace, and
that, too, only from a great distance. Every one knew that this was the
work of the fairy in order that the Princess, while she slept, should
have nothing to fear from curious people.
A hundred years passed, and the kingdom was in the hands of another
royal family. The son of the reigning King was hunting one day in that
part of the country, and asked what those towers were which he saw in
the middle of a great dense wood. Every one answered according as he
had heard. Some said it was an old haunted castle; others, that all the
witches of the country held their revels there. But the common opinion
was that an ogre lived there, and that he carried thither all the
little children he could catch, secure that no one would follow him,
for he alone had power to make his way through the wood.
The Prince did not know what to believe; but finally an aged man spoke
to him thus: “May it please your Highness, more than fifty years ago I
heard my father tell that there was in that castle a Princess, the most
beautiful ever seen; and that she was to sleep there a hundred years,
and that she would be wakened by a King’s son for whom she was
waiting.”
The young Prince was all on fire at these words. He had not a moment’s
doubt that he was the one to carry through this rare adventure, and
filled with love and longing for glory he instantly resolved to look
into the matter. As soon as he drew near the wood, all the great trees,
the bushes, and the brambles gave way of themselves to let him pass
through. He walked toward the castle which he saw at the end of a long
avenue. As he looked around he was surprised to see that none of his
people had been able to follow him, for the trees had closed in again
as soon as he had passed between them. He did not stop or turn back for
this; a young Prince, drawn on by love and the desire for glory, is
always valiant.
He came into a spacious outer court where the sight that met his eyes
was of a kind to freeze him with horror. A frightful silence reigned
over all; the appearance of death was everywhere, and there was nothing
to be seen but the bodies of men and animals stretched out on every
side, and apparently lifeless. He noticed, however, that the faces of
the guards were ruddy, and he knew that they were only asleep; besides,
the goblets standing by them, with a few drops of wine left in them,
plainly showed that they had fallen asleep while drinking their wine.
He then crossed a court paved with marble, went up the stairs, and came
into the guardroom, where soldiers were standing. They were drawn up in
ranks, with muskets on their shoulders, and were snoring loudly. He
went through several rooms full of gentlemen and ladies, some standing
and others sitting, but all asleep. He entered a gilded chamber and saw
on a bed, the curtains of which were all drawn back, the most beautiful
sight he had ever looked upon,—a Princess, who appeared to be about
fifteen or sixteen years old, and who was so dazzlingly beautiful that
she seemed to belong to another world. He approached with trembling and
admiration, and fell down upon his knees before her.
Then, as the end of the enchantment was come, the Princess awoke, and
looking tenderly at the young man, said: “Is it you, my Prince? You
have waited a long while.”
The Prince, charmed with these words, and much more with the manner in
which they were spoken, did not know how to show his joy and gratitude.
He assured her that he loved her better than himself. Then they forgot
all else as they talked together of their love. She was perhaps more
prepared for it than he, for it is very probable (though history says
nothing of it) that the good fairy, during so long a sleep, had given
her pleasant dreams. They talked together for four hours, and still
they had not said half that they wished to say.
In the meantime, all the palace had been awakened with the Princess.
Every one thought at once of his particular business, and as they were
not in love they realized that they were extremely hungry. The chief
lady in waiting, who was as hungry as the rest, finally became
impatient and announced to the Princess that the meal was served. The
Prince took the Princess by the hand. She was magnificently dressed,
but he took care not to tell her that her costume was like that of his
great-grandmother as he had seen it in pictures. She looked not a bit
the less charming and beautiful for that.
They passed into the great hall lined with mirrors, where they supped,
attended by the officers of the Princess. The violins and clarinets
played old tunes, but they were excellent, though they had not been
played for a hundred years. After supper, without losing any time, the
lord almoner married them in the chapel of the castle.
When they left the castle the next day to return to the home of the
Prince, they were followed by all the retinue of the Princess. They
marched down the long avenue, and the wood opened before them to let
them pass through. Outside they met the Prince’s followers, who had
been waiting in great anxiety and were overjoyed to see their master
again. When they had gone a little way they turned to look back at the
castle, but behold! there was no castle to be seen, and no wood; castle
and wood had vanished, but the Prince and Princess went gayly away, and
when the old King and Queen died they reigned in their stead.