So the merchant followed him back into the palace. There, on the floor
of the hall, lay a great and beautiful chest of wrought silver.
"Fill this with any treasures that take your fancy," said the Beast.
And the merchant filled it up with precious things from the Beast's
treasure-house.
"I will send it home for you," said the Beast, shutting down the lid.
And so, with a heavy heart, the merchant went away; but as he went
through the palace gate, the Beast called to him that he had forgotten
Beauty's rose, and at the same time held out to him a large bunch of
the very best.
The merchant put these into Beauty's hand when she ran to meet him at
the door of their cottage.
"Take them, my child," he said, "and cherish them, for they have cost
your poor father his life."
And with that he sat down and told them the whole story. The two elder
sisters wept and wailed, and of course blamed Beauty for all that had
happened.
"If it had not been for your wanting a rose, our father would have
left the palace in safety, with his new suit and his gold pieces; but
your foolishness has cost him his life."
"No," said Beauty, "it is _my_ life that shall be sacrificed, for when
the three months are over, I shall go to the Beast, and he may kill me
if he will, but he shall never hurt my dear father."
The father tried hard to persuade her not to go, but she had made
up her mind, and at the end of the three months she set out for the
Beast's palace.
Her father went with her, to show her the way. As before, he saw the
lights shining through the wood, knocked and rang in vain at the great
gate, warmed himself at the fire in the big hall, and then found the
little room with the supper on the table that made you hungry to look
at. Only this time the table was laid for two.
"Come, father dear," said Beauty, "take comfort. I do not think the
Beast means to kill me, or surely he would not have given me such a
good supper."
But the next moment the Beast came into the room. Beauty screamed and
clung to her father.
"Don't be frightened," said the Beast gently, "but tell me, do you
come here of your own free will?"
"Yes," said Beauty, trembling.
"You are a good girl," said the Beast, and then, turning to the old
man, he told him that he might sleep there for that night, but in the
morning he must go and leave his daughter behind him.
They went to bed and slept soundly, and the next morning the father
departed, weeping bitterly.
Beauty, left alone, tried not to feel frightened. She ran here and
there through the palace, and found it more beautiful than anything
she had ever imagined.
The most beautiful set of rooms in the palace had written over the
doors, "Beauty's Rooms," and in them she found books and music,
canary-birds and Persian cats, and everything that could be thought of
to make the time pass pleasantly.
"Oh, dear!" she said; "if only I could see my poor father I should be
almost happy."
As she spoke, she happened to look at a big mirror, and in it she saw
the form of her father reflected, just riding up to the door of his
cottage.
That night, when Beauty sat down to supper, the Beast came in.
"May I have supper with you?" said he.
"That must be as you please," said Beauty.
So the Beast sat down to supper with her, and when it was finished, he
said:
"I am very ugly, Beauty, and I am very stupid, but I love you; will
you marry me?"
"No, Beast," said Beauty gently.
The poor Beast sighed and went away.
And every night the same thing happened. He ate his supper with her,
and then asked her if she would marry him. And she always said, "No,
Beast."
All this time she was waited on by invisible hands, as though she had
been a queen. Beautiful music came to her ears without her being able
to see the musicians, but the magic looking-glass was best of all, for
in it she could see whatever she wished. As the days went by, and her
slightest wish was granted, almost before she knew what she wanted,
she began to feel that the Beast must love her very dearly, and she
was very sorry to see how sad he looked every night when she said "No"
to his offer of marriage.
One day, she saw in her mirror that her father was ill, so that night
she said to the Beast:
"Dear Beast, you are so good to me, will you let me go home to see
my father? He is ill, and he thinks that I am dead. Do let me go and
cheer him up, and I will promise faithfully to return to you."
"Very well," said the Beast kindly, "but don't stay away more than
a week, for if you do, I shall die of grief, because I love you so
dearly."
"How shall I reach home?" said Beauty; "I do not know the way."
Then the Beast gave her a ring, and told her to put it on her finger
when she went to bed, turn the ruby towards the palm of her hand, and
then she would wake up in her father's cottage. When she wanted to
come back, she was to do the same thing.
So in the morning, when she awoke, she found herself at her father's
house, and the old man was beside himself with joy to see her safe and
sound.
But her sisters did not welcome her very kindly, and when they heard
how kind the Beast was to her, they envied her her good luck in living
in a beautiful palace, whilst they had to be content with a cottage.
"I wish we had gone," said Marigold. "Beauty always gets the best of
everything."
"Tell us all about your grand palace," said Dressalinda, "and what you
do, and how you spend your time."
So Beauty, thinking it would amuse them to hear, told them, and their
envy increased day by day. At last Dressalinda said to Marigold:
"She has promised to return in a week. If we could only make her
forget the day, the Beast might be angry and kill her, and then there
would be a chance for us."
So on the day before she ought to have gone back, they put, some
poppy juice in a cup of wine which they gave her, and this made her
so sleepy that she slept for two whole days and nights. At the end of
that time her sleep grew troubled, and she dreamed that She saw the
Beast lying dead among the roses in the beautiful gardens of his
palace; and from this dream she awoke crying bitterly.
Although she did not know that a week and two days had gone by since
she left the Beast, yet after that dream she at once turned the ruby
towards her palm, and the next morning there she was, sure enough, in
her bed in the Beast's palace.
She did not know where his rooms in the palace were, but she felt she
could not wait till supper-time before seeing him, so she ran hither
and thither, calling his name. But the palace was empty, and no one
answered her when she called.
Then she ran through the gardens, calling his name again and again,
but still there was silence.
"Oh! what shall I do if I cannot find him?" she said. "I shall never
be happy again."
Then she remembered her dream, and ran to the rose garden, and there,
sure enough, beside the basin of the big fountain, lay the poor Beast
without any sign of life in him.
Beauty flung herself on her knees beside him.
"Oh, dear Beast," she cried, "and are you really dead? Alas! alas!
then I, too, will die, for I cannot live without you."
Immediately the Beast opened his eyes, sighed, and said:
"Beauty, will you marry me?"
And Beauty, beside herself with joy when she found that he was still
alive, answered:
"Yes, yes, dear Beast, for I love you dearly."
At these words the rough fur dropped to the ground, and in place of
the Beast stood a handsome Prince, dressed in a doublet of white and
silver, like one made ready for a wedding. He knelt at Beauty's feet
and clasped her hands.
"Dear Beauty," he said, "nothing but your love could have disenchanted
me. A wicked fairy turned me into a Beast, and condemned me to remain
one until some fair and good maiden should love me well enough to
marry me, in spite of my ugliness and stupidity. Now, dear one, the
enchantment is broken; let us go back to my palace. You will find that
all my servants--who, too, have been enchanted, and have waited on you
all this long time with invisible hands--will now become visible."
So they returned to the palace, which by this time was crowded with
courtiers, eager to kiss the hands of the Prince and his bride. And
the Prince whispered to one of his attendants, who went out, and in a
very little time came back with Beauty's father and sisters.
The sisters were condemned to be changed into statues, and to stand
at the right and left of the palace gates until their hearts should
be softened, and they should be sorry for their unkindness to their
sister. But Beauty, happily married to her Prince, went secretly to
the statues every day and wept over them.
And by her tears their stony hearts were softened, and they were
changed into flesh and blood again, and were good and kind for the
rest of their lives.
And Beauty and the Beast, who was a Beast no more, but a handsome
Prince, lived happily ever after.
And indeed I believe they are living happily still, in the beautiful
land where dreams come true.
* * * * *