wife became mistress of all his wealth. She devoted a portion to
arranging a marriage between her sister Anne and a young gentleman with
whom the latter had been for some time in love, while another portion
purchased a captain's commission for each of her brothers. The rest
formed a dowry for her own marriage with a very worthy man, who banished
from her mind all memory of the evil days she had spent with Blue
Beard.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
Once upon a time there lived a merchant who was exceedingly rich. He had
six children--three boys and three girls--and being a sensible man he
spared no expense upon their education, but engaged tutors of every kind
for them. All his daughters were pretty, but the youngest especially was
admired by everybody. When she was small she was known simply as 'the
little beauty,' and this name stuck to her, causing a great deal of
jealousy on the part of her sisters.
This youngest girl was not only prettier than her sisters, but very much
nicer. The two elder girls were very arrogant as a result of their
wealth; they pretended to be great ladies, declining to receive the
daughters of other merchants, and associating only with people of
quality. Every day they went off to balls and theatres, and for walks in
the park, with many a gibe at their little sister, who spent much of her
time in reading good books.
Now these girls were known to be very rich, and in consequence were
sought in marriage by many prominent merchants. The two eldest said they
would never marry unless they could find a duke, or at least a count.
But Beauty--this, as I have mentioned, was the name by which the
youngest was known--very politely thanked all who proposed marriage to
her, and said that she was too young at present, and that she wished to
keep her father company for several years yet.
Suddenly the merchant lost his fortune, the sole property which remained
to him being a small house in the country, a long way from the capital.
With tears he broke it to his children that they would have to move to
this house, where by working like peasants they might just be able to
live.
The two elder girls replied that they did not wish to leave the town,
and that they had several admirers who would be only too happy to marry
them, notwithstanding their loss of fortune. But the simple maidens were
mistaken: their admirers would no longer look at them, now that they
were poor. Everybody disliked them on account of their arrogance, and
folks declared that they did not deserve pity: in fact, that it was a
good thing their pride had had a fall--a turn at minding sheep would
teach them how to play the fine lady! 'But we are very sorry for
Beauty's misfortune,' everybody added; 'she is such a dear girl, and was
always so considerate to poor people: so gentle, and with such charming
manners!'
There were even several worthy men who would have married her, despite
the fact that she was now penniless; but she told them she could not
make up her mind to leave her poor father in his misfortune, and that
she intended to go with him to the country, to comfort him and help him
to work. Poor Beauty had been very grieved at first over the loss of her
fortune, but she said to herself:
'However much I cry, I shall not recover my wealth, so I must try to be
happy without it.'
When they were established in the country the merchant and his family
started working on the land. Beauty used to rise at four o'clock in the
morning, and was busy all day looking after the house, and preparing
dinner for the family. At first she found it very hard, for she was not
accustomed to work like a servant, but at the end of a couple of months
she grew stronger, and her health was improved by the work. When she had
leisure she read, or played the harpsichord, or sang at her
spinning-wheel.
[Illustration: '_At first she found it very hard_']
Her two sisters, on the other hand, were bored to death; they did not
get up till ten o'clock in the morning, and they idled about all day.
Their only diversion was to bemoan the beautiful clothes they used to
wear and the company they used to keep. 'Look at our little sister,'
they would say to each other; 'her tastes are so low and her mind so
stupid that she is quite content with this miserable state of affairs.'
The good merchant did not share the opinion of his two daughters, for he
knew that Beauty was more fitted to shine in company than her sisters.
He was greatly impressed by the girl's good qualities, and especially by
her patience--for her sisters, not content with leaving her all the work
of the house, never missed an opportunity of insulting her.
They had been living for a year in this seclusion when the merchant
received a letter informing him that a ship on which he had some
merchandise had just come safely home. The news nearly turned the heads
of the two elder girls, for they thought that at last they would be able
to quit their dull life in the country. When they saw their father ready
to set out they begged him to bring them back dresses, furs, caps, and
finery of every kind. Beauty asked for nothing, thinking to herself that
all the money which the merchandise might yield would not be enough to
satisfy her sisters' demands.
'You have not asked me for anything,' said her father.
'As you are so kind as to think of me,' she replied, 'please bring me a
rose, for there are none here.'
Beauty had no real craving for a rose, but she was anxious not to seem
to disparage the conduct of her sisters. The latter would have declared
that she purposely asked for nothing in order to be different from them.
[Illustration: '"_Look at our little sister_"']
The merchant duly set forth; but when he reached his destination
there was a law-suit over his merchandise, and after much trouble he
returned poorer than he had been before. With only thirty miles to go
before reaching home, he was already looking forward to the pleasure of
seeing his children again, when he found he had to pass through a large
wood. Here he lost himself. It was snowing horribly; the wind was so
strong that twice he was thrown from his horse, and when night came on
he made up his mind he must either die of hunger and cold or be eaten by
the wolves that he could hear howling all about him.
[Illustration: '_It was snowing horribly_']
Suddenly he saw, at the end of a long avenue of trees, a strong light.
It seemed to be some distance away, but he walked towards it, and
presently discovered that it came from a large palace, which was all lit
up.
The merchant thanked heaven for sending him this help, and hastened to
the castle. To his surprise, however, he found no one about in the
courtyards. His horse, which had followed him, saw a large stable open
and went in; and on finding hay and oats in readiness the poor animal,
which was dying of hunger, set to with a will. The merchant tied him up
in the stable, and approached the house, where he found not a soul. He
entered a large room; here there was a good fire, and a table laden with
food, but with a place laid for one only. The rain and snow had soaked
him to the skin, so he drew near the fire to dry himself. 'I am sure,'
he remarked to himself, 'that the master of this house or his servants
will forgive the liberty I am taking; doubtless they will be here soon.'
He waited some considerable time; but eleven o'clock struck and still he
had seen nobody. Being no longer able to resist his hunger he took a
chicken and devoured it in two mouthfuls, trembling. Then he drank
several glasses of wine, and becoming bolder ventured out of the room.
He went through several magnificently furnished apartments, and finally
found a room with a very good bed. It was now past midnight, and as he
was very tired he decided to shut the door and go to bed.
It was ten o'clock the next morning when he rose, and he was greatly
astonished to find a new suit in place of his own, which had been
spoilt. 'This palace,' he said to himself, 'must surely belong to some
good fairy, who has taken pity on my plight.'
He looked out of the window. The snow had vanished, and his eyes rested
instead upon arbours of flowers--a charming spectacle. He went back to
the room where he had supped the night before, and found there a little
table with a cup of chocolate on it. 'I thank you, Madam Fairy,' he said
aloud, 'for being so kind as to think of my breakfast.'
Having drunk his chocolate the good man went forth to look for his
horse. As he passed under a bower of roses he remembered that Beauty had
asked for one, and he plucked a spray from a mass of blooms. The very
same moment he heard a terrible noise, and saw a beast coming towards
him which was so hideous that he came near to fainting.
'Ungrateful wretch!' said the Beast, in a dreadful voice; 'I have saved
your life by receiving you into my castle, and in return for my trouble
you steal that which I love better than anything in the world--my roses.
You shall pay for this with your life! I give you fifteen minutes to
make your peace with Heaven.'
The merchant threw himself on his knees and wrung his hands. 'Pardon, my
lord!' he cried; 'one of my daughters had asked for a rose, and I did
not dream I should be giving offence by picking one.'
'I am not called "my lord,"' answered the monster, 'but "The Beast." I
have no liking for compliments, but prefer people to say what they
think. Do not hope therefore to soften me by flattery. You have
daughters, you say; well, I am willing to pardon you if one of your
daughters will come, of her own choice, to die in your place. Do not
argue with me--go! And swear that if your daughters refuse to die in
your place you will come back again in three months.'
[Illustration: _The Beast_]
The good man had no intention of sacrificing one of his daughters to
this hideous monster, but he thought that at least he might have the
pleasure of kissing them once again. He therefore swore to return, and
the Beast told him he could go when he wished. 'I do not wish you to go
empty-handed,' he added; 'return to the room where you slept; you will
find there a large empty box. Fill it with what you will; I will have it
sent home for you.'
With these words the Beast withdrew, leaving the merchant to reflect
that if he must indeed die, at all events he would have the consolation
of providing for his poor children.
He went back to the room where he had slept. He found there a large
number of gold pieces, and with these he filled the box the Beast had
mentioned. Having closed the latter, he took his horse, which was still
in the stable, and set forth from the palace, as melancholy now as he
had been joyous when he entered it.
The horse of its own accord took one of the forest roads, and in a few
hours the good man reached his own little house. His children crowded
round him, but at sight of them, instead of welcoming their caresses, he
burst into tears. In his hand was the bunch of roses which he had
brought for Beauty, and he gave it to her with these words:
'Take these roses, Beauty; it is dearly that your poor father will have
to pay for them.'
Thereupon he told his family of the dire adventure which had befallen
him. On hearing the tale the two elder girls were in a great commotion,
and began to upbraid Beauty for not weeping as they did. 'See to what
her smugness has brought this young chit,' they said; 'surely she might
strive to find some way out of this trouble, as we do! But oh, dear me,
no; her ladyship is so determined to be different that she can speak of
her father's death without a tear!'
'It would be quite useless to weep,' said Beauty. 'Why should I lament
my father's death? He is not going to die. Since the monster agrees to
accept a daughter instead, I intend to offer myself to appease his fury.
It will be a happiness to do so, for in dying I shall have the joy of
saving my father, and of proving to him my devotion.'
'No, sister,' said her three brothers; 'you shall not die; we will go in
quest of this monster, and will perish under his blows if we cannot kill
him.'
'Do not entertain any such hopes, my children,' said the merchant; 'the
power of this Beast is so great that I have not the slightest
expectation of escaping him. I am touched by the goodness of Beauty's
heart, but I will not expose her to death. I am old and have not much
longer to live; and I shall merely lose a few years that will be
regretted only on account of you, my dear children.'
'I can assure you, father,' said Beauty, 'that you will not go to this
palace without me. You cannot prevent me from following you. Although I
am young I am not so very deeply in love with life, and I would rather
be devoured by this monster than die of the grief which your loss would
cause me.' Words were useless. Beauty was quite determined to go to this
wonderful palace, and her sisters were not sorry, for they regarded her
good qualities with deep jealousy.
The merchant was so taken up with the sorrow of losing his daughter that
he forgot all about the box which he had filled with gold. To his
astonishment, when he had shut the door of his room and was about to
retire for the night, there it was at the side of his bed! He decided
not to tell his children that he had become so rich, for his elder
daughters would have wanted to go back to town, and he had resolved to
die in the country. He did confide his secret to Beauty, however, and
the latter told him that during his absence they had entertained some
visitors, amongst whom were two admirers of her sisters. She begged her
father to let them marry; for she was of such a sweet nature that she
loved them, and forgave them with all her heart the evil they had done
her.
When Beauty set off with her father the two heartless girls rubbed their
eyes with an onion, so as to seem tearful; but her brothers wept in
reality, as did also the merchant. Beauty alone did not cry, because she
did not want to add to their sorrow.
The horse took the road to the palace, and by evening they espied it,
all lit up as before. An empty stable awaited the nag, and when the good
merchant and his daughter entered the great hall, they found there a
table magnificently laid for two people. The merchant had not the heart
to eat, but Beauty, forcing herself to appear calm, sat down and served
him. Since the Beast had provided such splendid fare, she thought to
herself, he must presumably be anxious to fatten her up before eating
her.
When they had finished supper they heard a terrible noise. With tears
the merchant bade farewell to his daughter, for he knew it was the
Beast. Beauty herself could not help trembling at the awful apparition,
but she did her best to compose herself. The Beast asked her if she had
come of her own free will, and she timidly answered that such was the
case.
'You are indeed kind,' said the Beast, 'and I am much obliged to you.
You, my good man, will depart to-morrow morning, and you must not think
of coming back again. Good-bye, Beauty!'
'Good-bye, Beast!' she answered.
Thereupon the monster suddenly disappeared.
'Daughter,' said the merchant, embracing Beauty, 'I am nearly dead with
fright. Let me be the one to stay here!'
'No, father,' said Beauty, firmly, 'you must go to-morrow morning, and
leave me to the mercy of Heaven. Perhaps pity will be taken on me.'
They retired to rest, thinking they would not sleep at all during the
night, but they were hardly in bed before their eyes were closed in
sleep. In her dreams there appeared to Beauty a lady, who said to her:
'Your virtuous character pleases me, Beauty. In thus undertaking to give
your life to save your father you have performed an act of goodness
which shall not go unrewarded.'
When she woke up Beauty related this dream to her father. He was
somewhat consoled by it, but could not refrain from loudly giving vent
to his grief when the time came to tear himself away from his beloved
child.
As soon as he had gone Beauty sat down in the great hall and began to
cry. But she had plenty of courage, and after imploring divine
protection she determined to grieve no more during the short time she
had yet to live.
She was convinced that the Beast would devour her that night, but made
up her mind that in the interval she would walk about and have a look at
this beautiful castle, the splendour of which she could not but admire.
Imagine her surprise when she came upon a door on which were the words
'Beauty's Room'! She quickly opened this door, and was dazzled by the
magnificence of the appointments within. 'They are evidently anxious
that I should not be dull,' she murmured, as she caught sight of a
large bookcase, a harpsichord, and several volumes of music. A moment
later another thought crossed her mind. 'If I had only a day to spend
here,' she reflected, 'such provision would surely not have been made
for me.'
This notion gave her fresh courage. She opened the bookcase, and found a
book in which was written, in letters of gold:
'Ask for anything you wish: you are mistress of all here.'
'Alas!' she said with a sigh, 'my only wish is to see my poor father,
and to know what he is doing.'
As she said this to herself she glanced at a large mirror. Imagine her
astonishment when she perceived her home reflected in it, and saw her
father just approaching. Sorrow was written on his face; but when her
sisters came to meet him it was impossible not to detect, despite the
grimaces with which they tried to simulate grief, the satisfaction they
felt at the loss of their sister. In a moment the vision faded away, yet
Beauty could not but think that the Beast was very kind, and that she
had nothing much to fear from him.
At midday she found the table laid, and during her meal she enjoyed an
excellent concert, though the performers were invisible. But in the
evening, as she was about to sit down at the table, she heard the noise
made by the Beast, and quaked in spite of herself.
'Beauty,' said the monster to her, 'may I watch you have your supper?'
'You are master here,' said the trembling Beauty.
'Not so,' replied the Beast; 'it is you who are mistress; you have only
to tell me to go, if my presence annoys you, and I will go immediately.
Tell me, now, do you not consider me very ugly?'
'I do,' said Beauty, 'since I must speak the truth; but I think you are
also very kind.'
'It is as you say,' said the monster; 'and in addition to being ugly, I
lack intelligence. As I am well aware, I am a mere beast.'
'It is not the way with stupid people,' answered Beauty, 'to admit a
lack of intelligence. Fools never realise it.'
'Sup well, Beauty,' said the monster, 'and try to banish dulness from
your home--for all about you is yours, and I should be sorry to think
you were not happy.'
'You are indeed kind,' said Beauty. 'With one thing, I must own, I am
well pleased, and that is your kind heart. When I think of that you no
longer seem to be ugly.'
'Oh yes,' answered the Beast, 'I have a good heart, right enough, but I
am a monster.'
'There are many men,' said Beauty, 'who make worse monsters than you,
and I prefer you, notwithstanding your looks, to those who under the
semblance of men hide false, corrupt, and ungrateful hearts.'
The Beast replied that if only he had a grain of wit he would compliment
her in the grand style by way of thanks; but that being so stupid he
could only say he was much obliged.
Beauty ate with a good appetite, for she now had scarcely any fear of
the Beast. But she nearly died of fright when he put this question to
her:
'Beauty, will you be my wife?'
For some time she did not answer, fearing lest she might anger the
monster by her refusal. She summoned up courage at last to say, rather
fearfully, 'No, Beast!'
The poor monster gave forth so terrible a sigh that the noise of it went
whistling through the whole palace. But to Beauty's speedy relief the
Beast sadly took his leave and left the room, turning several times as
he did so to look once more at her. Left alone, Beauty was moved by
great compassion for this poor Beast. 'What a pity he is so ugly,' she
said, 'for he is so good.'
Beauty passed three months in the palace quietly enough. Every evening
the Beast paid her a visit, and entertained her at supper by a display
of much good sense, if not with what the world calls wit. And every day
Beauty was made aware of fresh kindnesses on the part of the monster.
Through seeing him often she had become accustomed to his ugliness, and
far from dreading the moment of his visit, she frequently looked at her
watch to see if it was nine o'clock, the hour when the Beast always
appeared.
One thing alone troubled Beauty; every evening, before retiring to bed,
the monster asked her if she would be his wife, and seemed overwhelmed
with grief when she refused. One day she said to him:
'You distress me, Beast. I wish I could marry you, but I cannot deceive
you by allowing you to believe that that can ever be. I will always be
your friend--be content with that.'
'Needs must,' said the Beast. 'But let me make the position plain. I
know I am very terrible, but I love you very much, and I shall be very
happy if you will only remain here. Promise that you will never leave
me.'
Beauty blushed at these words. She had seen in her mirror that her
father was stricken down by the sorrow of having lost her, and she
wished very much to see him again. 'I would willingly promise to remain
with you always,' she said to the Beast, 'but I have so great a desire
to see my father again that I shall die of grief if you refuse me this
boon.'
'I would rather die myself than cause you grief,' said the monster. 'I
will send you back to your father. You shall stay with him, and your
Beast shall die of sorrow at your departure.'
'No, no,' said Beauty, crying; 'I like you too much to wish to cause
your death. I promise you I will return in eight days. You have shown me
that my sisters are married, and that my brothers have joined the army.
My father is all alone; let me stay with him one week.'
'You shall be with him to-morrow morning,' said the Beast. 'But remember
your promise. All you have to do when you want to return is to put your
ring on a table when you are going to bed. Good-bye, Beauty!'
As usual, the Beast sighed when he said these last words, and Beauty
went to bed quite down-hearted at having grieved him.
[Illustration: "EVERY EVENING THE BEAST PAID HER A VISIT."]
When she woke the next morning she found she was in her father's house.
She rang a little bell which stood by the side of her bed, and it was
answered by their servant, who gave a great cry at sight of her. The
good man came running at the noise, and was overwhelmed with joy at the
sight of his dear daughter. Their embraces lasted for more than a
quarter of an hour. When their transports had subsided, it occurred to
Beauty that she had no clothes to put on; but the servant told her that
she had just discovered in the next room a chest full of dresses trimmed
with gold and studded with diamonds. Beauty felt grateful to the
Beast for this attention, and having selected the simplest of the gowns
she bade the servant pack up the others, as she wished to send them as
presents to her sisters. The words were hardly out of her mouth when the
chest disappeared. Her father expressed the opinion that the Beast
wished her to keep them all for herself, and in a trice dresses and
chest were back again where they were before.
When Beauty had dressed she learned that her sisters, with their
husbands, had arrived. Both were very unhappy. The eldest had wedded an
exceedingly handsome man, but the latter was so taken up with his own
looks that he studied them from morning to night, and despised his
wife's beauty. The second had married a man with plenty of brains, but
he only used them to pay insults to everybody--his wife first and
foremost.
The sisters were greatly mortified when they saw Beauty dressed like a
princess, and more beautiful than the dawn. Her caresses were ignored,
and the jealousy which they could not stifle only grew worse when she
told them how happy she was. Out into the garden went the envious pair,
there to vent their spleen to the full.
'Why should this chit be happier than we are?' each demanded of the
other; 'are we not much nicer than she is?'
'Sister,' said the elder, 'I have an idea. Let us try to persuade her to
stay here longer than the eight days. Her stupid Beast will fly into a
rage when he finds she has broken her word, and will very likely devour
her.'
'You are right, sister,' said the other; 'but we must make a great fuss
of her if we are to make the plan successful.'