of fashion to it. Our young misses were also invited; for they cut a
very grand figure among the quality. They were mightily delighted at
this invitation, and wonderfully busy in chusing out such gowns,
petticoats, and head-clothes as might best become them. This was a new
trouble to Cinderilla; for it was she who ironed her sisters' linen,
and plaited their ruffles; they talked all day long of nothing but how
they should be dressed. "For my part," said the eldest, "I will wear
my red velvet suit, with French trimming." "And I," said the youngest,
"shall only have my usual petticoat; but then, to make amends for
that, I will put on my gold-flowered manteau, and my diamond
stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the
world." They sent for the best tire-woman they could get, to make up
their head-dresses, and adjust their double-pinners,[3] and they had
their red brushes, and patches from the fashionable maker.
[Footnote 3: 'Pinners' were coifs with two long side-flaps pinned on.
'Double-pinners'--with two side-flaps on each side--accurately
translates the French _cornettes à deux rangs_.]
[Illustration: "ANY ONE BUT CINDERILLA WOULD HAVE DRESSED THEIR HEADS
AWRY"]
Cinderilla was likewise called up to them to be consulted in all these
matters, for she had excellent notions, and advised them always for
the best, nay and offered her service to dress their heads, which they
were very willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to
her:
"Cinderilla, would you not be glad to go to the ball?"
"Ah!" said she, "you only jeer at me; it is not for such as I am to go
thither."
"Thou art in the right of it," replied they, "it would make the people
laugh to see a Cinder-breech at a ball."
Any one but Cinderilla would have dressed their heads awry, but she
was very good, and dressed them perfectly well. They were almost two
days without eating, so much they were transported with joy; they
broke above a dozen of laces in trying to be laced up close, that they
might have a fine slender shape, and they were continually at their
looking-glass. At last the happy day came; they went to Court, and
Cinderilla followed them with her eyes as long as she could, and when
she had lost sight of them she fell a-crying.
Her godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the
matter.
"I wish I could----, I wish I could--;" she was not able to speak the
rest, being interrupted by her tears and sobbing.
This godmother of hers, who was a Fairy, said to her:
"Thou wishest thou couldest go to the ball, is it not so?"
"Y--es," cried Cinderilla, with a great sigh.
"Well," said her godmother, "be but a good girl, and I will contrive
that thou shalt go." Then she took her into her chamber, and said to
her:
"Run into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin."
Cinderilla went immediately to gather the finest she could get, and
brought it to her godmother, not being able to imagine how this
pumpkin could make her go to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all
the inside of it, leaving nothing but the rind; which done, she struck
it with her wand, and the pumpkin was instantly turned into a fine
coach, gilded all over with gold.
She then went to look into her mouse-trap, where she found six mice
all alive, and ordered Cinderilla to lift up a little the trap-door,
when giving each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand,
the mouse was at that moment turned into a fair horse, which
altogether made a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful
mouse-coloured dapple-grey.
Being at a loss for a coachman, "I will go and see," says Cinderilla,
"if there be never a rat in the rat-trap, that we may make a coachman
of him."
"Thou art in the right," replied her godmother; "go and look."
Cinderilla brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge
rats. The Fairy made choice of one of the three, which had the largest
beard, and, having touched him with her wand, he was turned into a fat
jolly coachman, who had the smartest whiskers eyes ever beheld.
After that, she said to her:
"Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the
watering pot; bring them to me."
She had no sooner done so, but her godmother turned them into six
footmen, who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their
liveries all bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind
it, as if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The Fairy then
said to Cinderilla:
"Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with; are you
not pleased with it?"
"O yes," cried she, "but must I go thither as I am, in these poison
nasty rags?"
Her godmother only just touched her with her wand, and, at the same
instant, her clothes were turned into cloth of gold and silver, all
beset with jewels. This done she gave her a pair of glass-slippers,[4]
the prettiest in the whole world.
[Footnote 4: In Perrault's tale: _pantoufles de verre_. There is no
doubt that in the medieval versions of this ancient tale Cinderilla
was given _pantoufles de vair_--_i.e._, of a grey, or grey and white,
fur, the exact nature of which has been a matter of controversy, but
which was probably a grey squirrel. Long before the seventeenth
century the word _vair_ had passed out of use, except as a heraldic
term, and had ceased to convey any meaning to the people. Thus the
_pantoufles de vair_ of the fairy tale became, in the oral tradition,
the homonymous _pantoufles de verre_, or glass slippers, a delightful
improvement on the earlier version.]
Being thus decked out, she got up into her coach; but her godmother,
above all things, commanded her not to stay till after midnight,
telling her, at the same time, that if she stayed at the ball one
moment longer, her coach would be a pumpkin again, her horses mice,
her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and her clothes become just
as they were before.
She promised her godmother, she would not fail of leaving the ball
before midnight; and then away she drove, scarce able to contain
herself for joy. The King's son, who was told that a great Princess,
whom nobody knew, was come, ran out to receive her; he gave her his
hand as she alighted out of the coach, and led her into the hall,
among all the company. There was immediately a profound silence, they
left off dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so attentive was
every one to contemplate the singular beauty of this unknown new
comer. Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of,
"Ha! how handsome she is! Ha! how handsome she is!"
The King himself, old as he was, could not help ogling her, and
telling the Queen softly, "that it was a long time since he had seen
so beautiful and lovely a creature." All the ladies were busied in
considering her clothes and head-dress, that they might have some made
next day after the same pattern, provided they could meet with such
fine materials, and as able hands to make them.
The King's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and
afterwards took her out to dance with him: she danced so very
gracefully, that they all more and more admired her. A fine collation
was served up, whereof the young Prince ate not a morsel, so intently
was he busied in gazing on her. She went and sat down by her sisters,
shewing them a thousand civilities, giving them part of the oranges
and citrons which the Prince had presented her with; which very much
surprised them, for they did not know her.
While Cinderilla was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock
strike eleven and three quarters, whereupon she immediately made a
curtesy to the company, and hasted away as fast as she could.
Being got home, she ran to seek out her godmother, and after having
thanked her, she said, "she could not but heartily wish she might go
next day to the ball, because the King's son had desired her." As she
was eagerly telling her godmother whatever had passed at the ball, her
two sisters knocked at the door which Cinderilla ran and opened.
"How long you have stayed," cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes, and
stretching herself as if she had been just awaked out of her sleep;
she had not, however, any manner of inclination to sleep since they
went from home.
"If thou hadst been at the ball," said one of her sisters, "thou
wouldst not have been tired with it; there came thither the finest
Princess, the most beautiful ever was seen with mortal eyes; she
shewed us a thousand civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons."
Cinderilla was transported with joy; she asked them the name of that
Princess; but they told her they did not know it; and that the King's
son was very anxious to learn it, and would give all the world to know
who she was. At this Cinderilla, smiling, replied:
"She must then be very beautiful indeed; Lord! how happy have you
been; could not I see her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your
yellow suit of cloaths which you wear every day!"
"Ay, to be sure!" cried Miss Charlotte, "lend my cloaths to such a
dirty Cinder-breech as thou art; who's the fool then?"
Cinderilla, indeed, expected some such answer, and was very glad of
the refusal; for she would have been sadly put to it, if her sister
had lent her what she asked for jestingly.
The next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderilla,
but dressed more magnificently than before. The King's son was always
by her, and never ceased his compliments and amorous speeches to her;
to whom all this was so far from being tiresome, that she quite forgot
what her godmother had recommended to her, so that she, at last,
counted the clock striking twelve, when she took it to be no more than
eleven; she then rose up, and fled as nimble as a deer.
The Prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one
of her glass slippers, which the Prince took up most carefully. She
got home, but quite out of breath, without coach or footmen, and in
her nasty old cloaths, having nothing left her of all her finery, but
one of the little slippers, fellow to that she dropped. The guards at
the palace gate were asked if they had not seen a Princess go out; who
said, they had seen nobody go out, but a young girl, very meanly
dressed, and who had more the air of a poor country wench, than a
gentle-woman.
[Illustration: "SHE LEFT BEHIND ONE OF HER GLASS SLIPPERS, WHICH THE
PRINCE TOOK UP MOST CAREFULLY"]
When the two sisters returned from the ball, Cinderilla asked them if
they had been well diverted, and if the fine lady had been there. They
told her, Yes, but that she hurried away immediately when it struck
twelve, and with so much haste, that she dropped one of her little
glass slippers, the prettiest in the world, and which the King's son
had taken up; that he had done nothing but look at it during all the
latter part of the ball, and that most certainly he was very much in
love with the beautiful person who owned the little slipper.
What they said was very true; for a few days after, the King's son
caused it to be proclaimed by sound of trumpet, that he would marry
her whose foot this slipper would just fit. They whom he employed
began to try it on upon the Princesses, then the duchesses, and all
the Court, but in vain. It was brought to the two sisters, who did all
they possibly could to thrust their feet into the slipper, but they
could not effect it.
Cinderilla, who saw all this, and knew her slipper, said to them
laughing:
"Let me see if it will not fit me?"
Her sisters burst out a-laughing, and began to banter her. The
gentleman who was sent to try the slipper, looked earnestly at
Cinderilla, and finding her very handsome, said it was but just that
she should try, and that he had orders to let every one make tryal. He
invited Cinderilla to sit down, and putting the slipper to her foot,
he found it went on very easily, and fitted her, as if it had been
made of wax. The astonishment her two sisters were in was excessively
great, but still abundantly greater, when Cinderilla pulled out of her
pocket the other slipper, and put it on her foot. Thereupon, in came
her godmother, who having touched, with her wand, Cinderilla's
cloaths, made them richer and more magnificent than any of those she
had before.
And now her two sisters found her to be that fine beautiful lady whom
they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet, to beg
pardon for all the ill treatment they had made her undergo. Cinderilla
took them up, and as she embraced them, cried that she forgave them
with all her heart, and desired them always to love her.
She was conducted to the young Prince, dressed as she was; he thought
her more charming than ever, and, a few days after, married her.
Cinderilla, who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters
lodgings in the palace, and that very same day matched them with two
great lords of the court.
[Illustration]
_The Moral_
_Beauty's to the sex a treasure,
Still admir'd beyond all measure,
And never yet was any known,
By still admiring, weary grown.
But that rare quality call'd grace,
Exceeds, by far, a handsome face;
Its lasting charms surpass the other,
And this rich gift her kind godmother
Bestow'd on Cinderilla fair,
Whom she instructed with such care.
She gave to her such graceful mien,
That she, thereby, became a queen.
For thus (may ever truth prevail)
We draw our moral from this tale.
This quality, fair ladies, know
Prevails much more (you'll find it so)
T'ingage and captivate a heart,
Than a fine head dress'd up with art.
The fairies' gift of greatest worth
Is grace of bearing, not high birth;
Without this gift we'll miss the prize;
Possession gives us wings to rise._
_Another_
_A great advantage 'tis, no doubt, to man,
To have wit, courage, birth, good sense, and brain,
And other such-like qualities, which we
Receiv'd from heaven's kind hand, and destiny.
But none of these rich graces from above,
To your advancement in the world will prove
If godmothers and sires you disobey,
Or 'gainst their strict advice too long you stay._
[Illustration]
_Riquet with the Tuft_
[Illustration]
Riquet with the Tuft
There was, once upon a time, a Queen, who was brought to bed of a son,
so hideously ugly, that it was long disputed, whether he had human
form. A Fairy, who was at his birth, affirmed, he would be very
lovable for all that, since he should be indowed with abundance of
wit. She even added, that it would be in his power, by virtue of a
gift she had just then given him, to bestow on the person he most
loved as much wit as he pleased. All this somewhat comforted the poor
Queen, who was under a grievous affliction for having brought into the
world such an ugly brat. It is true, that this child no sooner began
to prattle, but he said a thousand pretty things, and that in all his
actions there was something so taking, that he charmed every-body. I
forgot to tell you, that he came into the world with a little tuft of
hair upon his head, which made them call him Riquet with the Tuft, for
Riquet was the family name.
Seven or eight years after this, the Queen of a neighbouring kingdom
was delivered of two daughters at a birth. The first-born of these was
beautiful beyond compare, whereat the Queen was so very glad, that
those present were afraid that her excess of joy would do her harm.
The same Fairy, who had assisted at the birth of little Riquet with
the Tuft, was here also; and, to moderate the Queen's gladness, she
declared, that this little Princess should have no wit at all, but be
as stupid as she was pretty. This mortified the Queen extreamly, but
some moments afterwards she had far greater sorrow; for, the second
daughter she was delivered of, was very ugly.
"Do not afflict yourself so much, Madam," said the Fairy; "your
daughter shall have so great a portion of wit, that her want of beauty
will scarcely be perceived."
"God grant it," replied the Queen; "but is there no way to make the
eldest, who is so pretty, have some little wit?"
"I can do nothing for her, Madam, as to wit," answered the Fairy, "but
everything as to beauty; and as there is nothing but what I would do
for your satisfaction, I give her for gift, that she shall have the
power to make handsome the person who shall best please her."
As these Princesses grew up, their perfections grew up with them; all
the public talk was of the beauty of the eldest, and the wit of the
youngest. It is true also that their defects increased considerably
with their age; the youngest visibly grew uglier and uglier, and the
eldest became every day more and more stupid; she either made no
answer at all to what was asked her, or said something very silly; she
was with all this so unhandy, that she could not place four pieces of
china upon the mantlepiece, without breaking one of them, nor drink a
glass of water without spilling half of it upon her cloaths. Tho'
beauty is a very great advantage in young people, yet here the
youngest sister bore away the bell, almost always, in all companies
from the eldest; people would indeed, go first to the Beauty to look
upon, and admire her, but turn aside soon after to the Wit, to hear a
thousand most entertaining and agreeable turns, and it was amazing to
see, in less than a quarter of an hour's time, the eldest with not a
soul with her and the whole company crowding about the youngest. The
eldest, tho' she was unaccountably dull, could not but notice it, and
would have given all her beauty to have half the wit of her sister.
The Queen, prudent as she was, could not help reproaching her several
times, which had like to have made this poor Princess die for grief.
One day, as she retired into the wood to bewail her misfortune, she
saw, coming to her, a little man, very disagreeable, but most
magnificently dressed. This was the young Prince Riquet with the Tuft,
who having fallen in love with her, by seeing her picture, many of
which went all the world over, had left his father's kingdom, to have
the pleasure of seeing and talking with her.
Overjoyed to find her thus all alone, he addressed himself to her with
all imaginable politeness and respect. Having observed, after he had
made her the ordinary compliments, that she was extremely melancholy,
he said to her:
"I cannot comprehend, Madam, how a person so beautiful as you are, can
be so sorrowful as you seem to be; for tho' I can boast of having seen
infinite numbers of ladies exquisitely charming, I can say that I
never beheld any one whose beauty approaches yours."
"You are pleased to say so," answered the Princess, and here she
stopped.
"Beauty," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "is such a great advantage,
that it ought to take the place of all things; and since you possess
this treasure, I see nothing that can possibly very much afflict you."
"I had far rather," cried the Princess, "be as ugly as you are, and
have wit, than have the beauty I possess, and be so stupid as I am."
"There is nothing, Madam," returned he, "shews more that we have wit,
than to believe we have none; and it is the nature of that excellent
quality, that the more people have of it, the more they believe they
want it."
"I do not know that," said the Princess; "but I know, very well, that
I am very senseless, and thence proceeds the vexation which almost
kills me."
"If that be all, Madam, which troubles you, I can very easily put an
end to your affliction."
"And how will you do that?" cried the Princess.
"I have the power, Madam," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "to give to
that person whom I shall love best, as much wit as can be had; and as
you, Madam, are that very person, it will be your fault only, if you
have not as great a share of it as any one living, provided you will
be pleased to marry me."
The Princess remained quite astonished, and answered not a word.
[Illustration: "THE PRINCE BELIEVED HE HAD GIVEN HER MORE WIT THAN HE
HAD RESERVED FOR HIMSELF"]
"I see," replied Riquet with the Tuft, "that this proposal makes you
very uneasy, and I do not wonder at it, but I will give you a whole
year to consider of it."
The Princess had so little wit, and, at the same time, so great a
longing to have some, that she imagined the end of that year would
never be; therefore she accepted the proposal which was made her. She
had no sooner promised Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him
on that day twelvemonth, than she found herself quite otherwise than
she was before; she had an incredible facility of speaking whatever
she pleased, after a polite, easy, and natural manner; she began that
moment a very gallant conversation with Riquet with the Tuft, wherein
she tattled at such a rate, that Riquet with the Tuft believed he had
given her more wit than he had reserved for himself.
When she returned to the palace, the whole Court knew not what to
think of such a sudden and extraordinary change; for they heard from
her now as much sensible discourse, and as many infinitely witty
turns, as they had stupid and silly impertinences before. The whole
Court was overjoyed at it beyond imagination; it pleased all but her
younger sister; because having no longer the advantage of her in
respect of wit, she appeared, in comparison of her, a very
disagreeable, homely puss. The King governed himself by her advice,
and would even sometimes hold a council in her apartment. The noise of
this change spreading every where, all the young Princes of the
neighbouring kingdoms strove all they could to gain her favour, and
almost all of them asked her in marriage; but she found not one of
them had wit enough for her, and she gave them all a hearing, but
would not engage herself to any.
However, there came one so powerful, rich, witty and handsome, that
she could not help having a good inclination for him. Her father
perceived it, and told her that she was her own mistress as to the
choice of a husband, and that she might declare her intentions. As the
more wit we have, the greater difficulty we find to make a firm
resolution upon such affairs, this made her desire her father, after
having thanked him, to give her time to consider of it.
She went accidentally to walk in the same wood where she met Riquet
with the Tuft, to think, the more conveniently, what she ought to do.
While she was walking in a profound meditation, she heard a confused
noise under her feet, as it were of a great many people who went
backwards and forwards, and were very busy. Having listened more
attentively, she heard one say:
"Bring me that pot"; another "Give me that kettle"; and a third, "Put
some wood upon the fire."
The ground at the same time opened, and she seemingly saw under her
feet, a great kitchen full of cooks, scullions, and all sorts of
servants necessary for a magnificent entertainment. There came out of
it a company of roasters, to the number of twenty, or thirty, who went
to plant themselves in a fine alley of wood, about a very long table,
with their larding pins in their hands, and skewers in their caps,
who began to work, keeping time, to the tune of a very harmonious
song.
The Princess, all astonished at this sight, asked them who they worked
for.
"For Prince Riquet with the Tuft," said the chief of them, "who is to
be married to-morrow."
The Princess was more surprised than ever, and recollecting that it
was now that day twelvemonth on which she had promised to marry Riquet
with the Tuft, she was like to sink into the ground.
What made her forget this was that, when she made this promise, she
was very silly, and having obtained that vast stock of wit which the
Prince had bestowed on her, she had intirely forgot her stupidity. She
continued walking, but had not taken thirty steps before Riquet with
the Tuft presented himself to her, bravely and most magnificently
dressed, like a Prince who was going to be married.
"You see, Madam," said he, "I am very exact in keeping my word, and
doubt not, in the least, but you are come hither to perform yours, and
to make me, by giving me your hand, the happiest of men."
"I shall freely own to you," answered the Princess, "that I have not
yet taken any resolution on this affair, and believe I never shall
take such a one as you desire."
"You astonish me, Madam," said Riquet with the Tuft.
"I believe it," said the Princess, "and surely if I had to do with a
clown, or a man of no wit, I should find myself very much at a loss.
'A Princess always observes her word,' would he say to me, 'and you
must marry me, since you promised to do so.' But as he whom I talk to
is the man of the world who is master of the greatest sense and
judgment, I am sure he will hear reason. You know, that when I was but
a fool, I could, notwithstanding, never come to a resolution to marry
you; why will you have me, now I have so much judgment as you gave me,
and which makes me a more difficult person than I was at that time, to
come to such a resolution, which I could not then determine to agree
to? If you sincerely thought to make me your wife, you have been
greatly in the wrong to deprive me of my dull simplicity, and make me
see things much more clearly than I did."