had no clothes with her; but the servant told her that she had just
found a trunk in the next room, in which were dresses of gold fabric,
trimmed with diamonds. Beauty thanked the kind Beast for his
thoughtfulness. She took out the least costly of the dresses, and told
the maid to lock the others away again, as she wished to give them to
her sisters; but she had no sooner uttered these words, than the trunk
disappeared. Her father said to her that the Beast evidently wished her
to keep them all for herself, and the trunk and the dresses immediately
reappeared.
Beauty dressed herself, and, meanwhile, news of her arrival was sent to
her sisters, who came in haste with their husbands. They were both
extremely unhappy. The eldest had married a young man who was as
handsome as nature could make him, but he was so in love with his own
face, that he could think of nothing else from morning to night, and
cared nothing for the beauty of his wife. The second had married a very
witty and clever man, but he only made use of his ability to put
everybody in a bad temper, beginning with his wife.
Her sisters nearly died of envy when they saw Beauty dressed like a
princess, and beautiful as the day. In vain she showered caresses upon
them, nothing could stifle their jealousy, which only increased when she
told them how happy she was.
These two jealous creatures went into the garden, that they might cry
more at their ease. They said to one another, "Why should this wretched
little thing be happier than we are? Are we not more attractive than she
is?"
"Sister," said the eldest one, "an idea has occurred to me: let us try
to keep her here over the week. Her stupid old Beast will be enraged at
her breaking her word, and perhaps he will devour her." "You are right,
sister," replied the other; "to carry out our plan, we must appear very
loving and kind to her." And having settled this, they went back to the
house and were so affectionate to her, that Beauty cried for joy. When
the week drew to a close, the two sisters showed such signs of grief at
her departure, and made such lamentation, that she promised to stay till
the end of the second one. Beauty, however, reproached herself for the
sorrow she would cause her poor Beast, whom she loved with all her
heart; and she began to miss him very much. On the tenth night of her
absence, she dreamed that she was in the garden of the castle, and that
she saw the Beast lying on the grass, apparently dying, and that he
reproached her with her ingratitude. Beauty awoke with a start, and
wept. "I am indeed wicked," she said, "to behave so ungratefully to a
Beast who has been so considerate and kind to me! Is it his fault that
he is ugly and that he is not clever? He is good, and that is worth
everything else. Why did I refuse to marry him? I should be happier with
him than my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither beauty nor
wit in a husband which makes a wife happy; it is amiability of
character, uprightness and generosity: and the Beast has all these good
qualities. I do not love him, but I respect him, and I feel both
affection for him, and gratitude. I will not make him unhappy; should I
do so, I should reproach myself for it as long as I live."
With these words, Beauty rose, placed her ring on a table, and lay down
again. The moment she was in bed, she fell asleep, and when she awoke
next morning, she saw with delight that she was back in the Beast's
castle. She dressed herself magnificently, in order to please him, and
the hours seemed to drag as she waited for nine o'clock to strike; but
the hour came, and the Beast did not appear.
Then Beauty began to fear that she had caused his death. She ran through
the castle, uttering loud cries, for she was in despair. After having
looked everywhere, she remembered her dream, and ran into the garden
towards the water, where she had seen him in her sleep. She found the
poor Beast stretched on the ground, and unconscious, and she thought he
was dead. Forgetting her horror at his appearance, she threw herself
upon him, and feeling that his heart was still beating, she fetched some
water and threw it over his head. The Beast opened his eyes, and said to
Beauty, "You forgot your promise; in my grief at losing you, I
determined to let myself die of hunger; but I die happy, since I have
had the joy of seeing you once again." "No, my dear Beast, you shall not
die," exclaimed Beauty. "You shall live to be my husband; I am yours
from this moment, and only yours. Alas! I thought the feeling I had for
you was only one of friendship; but now I know, by the grief I feel,
that I cannot live without you." Beauty had scarcely uttered these words
before she saw the castle suddenly become brilliantly illuminated,
while fire-works, music, everything indicated the celebration of some
joyful event. She did not gaze long, however, at these splendours, but
quickly turned her eyes again towards her dear Beast, the thought of
whose danger made her tremble with anxiety. But what was her surprise
when she saw that the Beast had disappeared, and that a young and
handsome Prince was lying at her feet, who thanked her for having
released him from enchantment. Although this Prince was fully worthy of
her attention, Beauty, nevertheless, could not help asking what had
become of the Beast. "You see him at your feet," said the Prince to her.
"A wicked fairy condemned me to remain in the form of a monster, until
some fair damsel would consent to marry me, and she forbade me also to
betray that I had intelligence. You are the only one who has been kind
enough to allow the goodness of my heart to touch yours, and I cannot,
even by offering you my crown, acquit myself of obligation to you."
Beauty, agreeably surprised, gave the young Prince her hand, to help him
to rise. They passed, side by side, into the castle, and Beauty nearly
died of joy, when she found her father and all her family assembled in
the dining-hall, the beautiful lady whom she had seen in her dream
having transported them thither. "Beauty," said the lady, who was a
well-known fairy, "receive the recompense of your noble choice; you
preferred virtue to beauty or intelligence, and you therefore deserve to
find all these qualities united in one person. You are soon to become a
great queen; I trust your exalted position will not destroy your good
disposition. As for you," said the fairy, turning to Beauty's sisters,
"I know your hearts and all the malice concealed in them. Be turned,
therefore, into statues, but preserve your consciousness beneath the
stone which will envelop you. You will remain at the entrance of your
sister's palace, and I impose no further punishment upon you, than to be
the constant witnesses of her happiness. You will not be able to resume
your present forms, until you have recognised and confessed your faults,
but I greatly fear that you will always remain statues. Pride, anger,
greediness, and laziness may be corrected; but nothing short of a
miracle can convert the envious and malicious heart." The fairy then
gave a tap with her wand, and all those assembled in the dining-hall
were immediately transported into the Prince's kingdom. His subjects
greeted him with joy; he married Beauty, who lived a long life with him
of perfect happiness, for it was founded upon virtue.
THE BENEVOLENT FROG
There was once a King who for many years had been engaged in a war with
his neighbours; a great number of battles had been fought, and at last
the enemy laid siege to his capital. The King, fearing for the safety of
the Queen, begged her to retire to a fortified castle, which he himself
had never visited but once. The Queen endeavoured, with many prayers and
tears, to persuade him to allow her to remain beside him and to share
his fate, and it was with loud cries of grief that she was put into her
chariot by the King to be driven away. He ordered his guards, however,
to accompany her, and promised to steal away when possible to visit her.
He tried to comfort her with this hope, although he knew that there was
little chance of fulfilling it, for the castle stood a long distance
off, surrounded by a thick forest, and only those who were well
acquainted with the roads could possibly find their way to it.
The Queen parted from her husband, broken-hearted at leaving him exposed
to the dangers of war; she travelled by easy stages, in case the fatigue
of so long a journey should make her ill; at last she reached the
castle, feeling low-spirited and distressed. When sufficiently rested,
she walked about the surrounding country, but found nothing to interest
her or divert her thoughts. She saw only far-spreading desert tracts on
either side, which gave her more pain than pleasure to look upon; sadly
she gazed around her, exclaiming at intervals, "What a contrast between
this place and that in which I have lived all my life! If I stay here
long I shall die! To whom have I to talk in these solitudes? With whom
can I share my troubles? What have I done to the King that he should
banish me? He wishes me, it seems, to feel the full bitterness of our
separation, by exiling me to this miserable castle."
Thus she lamented; and although the King wrote daily to her, and sent
her good news of the progress of the siege, she grew more and more
unhappy, and at last determined that she would return to him. Knowing,
however, that the officers who were in attendance upon her had received
orders not to take her back, unless the King sent a special messenger,
she kept her design secret, but ordered a small chariot to be built for
her, in which there was only room for one, saying that she should like
sometimes to accompany the hunt. She drove herself, and followed so
closely on the hounds, that the huntsmen were left behind; by this means
she had sole command of her chariot, and could get away whenever she
liked. Her only difficulty was her ignorance of the roads that traversed
the forest; but she trusted to the kindness of Providence to bring her
safely through it. She gave word that there was to be a great hunt, and
that she wished everybody to be there; she herself would go in her
chariot, and each was to follow a different route, that there might be
no possibility of escape for the wild beasts. Everything was done
according to her orders. The young Queen, feeling sure that she should
soon see her husband again, dressed herself as becomingly as possible;
her hat was covered with feathers of different colours, the front of her
dress lavishly trimmed with precious stones, and her beauty, which was
of no ordinary kind, made her seem, when so adorned, a second Diana.
While everybody was occupied with the pleasures of the hunt, she gave
rein to her horses, encouraged them with voice and whip, and soon their
quickened pace became a gallop; then, taking the bit between their
teeth, they flew along at such a speed, that the chariot seemed borne by
the winds, and the eye could scarcely follow it. Too late the poor Queen
repented of her rashness: "What could I have been thinking of?" she
said. "How could I have imagined that I should be able to control such
wild and fiery horses? Alas! what will become of me? What would the King
do if he knew the great danger I am in, he who loves me so dearly, and
who only sent me away that I might be in greater safety! This is my
gratitude for his tender care!" The air resounded with her piteous
lamentations; she invoked Heaven, she called the fairies to her
assistance, but it seemed that all the powers had abandoned her. The
chariot was overthrown; she had not sufficient strength to jump quickly
enough to the ground, and her foot was caught between the wheel and the
axle-tree; it was only by a miracle she was saved.
She remained stretched on the ground at the foot of a tree; her heart
scarcely beat, she could not speak, and her face was covered with blood.
She lay thus for a long time; when at last she opened her eyes, she saw,
standing near her, a woman of gigantic stature, clothed only in a lion's
skin, with bare arms and legs, her hair tied up with the dried skin of a
snake, the head of which dangled over her shoulders; in her hand was a
club made of stone, which served her as a walking-stick, and a quiver
full of arrows was fastened to her side. When the Queen caught sight of
this extraordinary figure, she felt sure that she was dead, for she did
not think it was possible that she could be alive after such a terrible
accident, and she said in a low voice to herself, "I am not surprised
that it is so difficult to resolve to die, since what is to be seen in
the other world is so frightful." The giantess, who overheard her words,
could not help laughing at the Queen's idea that she was dead. "Take
courage," she said to her, "for know that you are still among the
living; but your fate is none the less sad. I am the Fairy Lioness,
whose dwelling is near here; you must come and live with me." The Queen
looked sorrowfully at her, and said, "If you will be good enough, Madam
Lioness, to take me back to my castle, and tell the King what ransom you
demand, he loves me so dearly, that he will not refuse you even the half
of his kingdom." "No," replied the giantess, "I am rich enough, but for
some time past my lonely life has seemed dull to me; you are
intelligent, and will be able perhaps to amuse me." As she finished
speaking, she took the form of a lioness, and placing the Queen on her
back, she carried her to the depths of her cave, and there rubbed her
with a spirit which quickly healed the Queen's wounds. But what surprise
and misery for the Queen to find herself in this dreadful abode! It was
only reached by ten thousand steps, which led down to the centre of the
earth; there was no light but that shed by a number of tall lamps, which
were reflected in a lake of quicksilver. This lake was covered with
monsters, each hideous enough to have frightened a less timid queen;
there were owls, screech-owls, ravens, and other birds of ill omen,
filling the air with discordant sounds; in the distance could be seen
rising a mountain whence flowed the sluggish waters of a stream composed
of all the tears shed by unhappy lovers, from the reservoirs of their
sad loves. The trees were bare of leaves and fruit, the ground covered
with marigolds, briars, and nettles.
[Illustration: _She saw beside her a woman of a gigantic size._]
The food corresponded to the climate of this miserable country; for a
few dried roots, some horse-chestnuts, and thorn-apples, were all that
was provided by the Fairy Lioness to appease the hunger of those who
fell into her hands.
As soon as the Queen was well enough to begin work, the fairy told her
she could build herself a hut, as she was going to remain with her for
the rest of her life. On hearing this, the Queen could no longer
restrain her tears: "Alas, what have I done to you," she cried, "that
you should keep me here? If my death, which I feel is near, would give
you pleasure, I pray you, kill me, it is all the kindness I dare hope
from you; but do not condemn me to pass a long and melancholy life apart
from my husband."
The Lioness only scoffed at her, and told her that the best thing she
could do was to dry her tears, and try to please her; that if she acted
otherwise, she would be the most miserable person in the world.
"What must I do then," replied the Queen, "to soften your heart?" "I am
fond of fly-pasties," said the Lioness. "You must find means of
procuring a sufficient number of flies to make me a large and
sweet-tasting one." "But," said the Queen, "I see no flies here, and
even were there any, it is not light enough to catch them; and if I were
to catch some, I have never in my life made pastry, so that you are
giving me orders which it is impossible for me to execute." "No matter,"
said the pitiless Lioness; "that which I wish to have, I will have."
The Queen made no reply: she thought to herself, in spite of the cruel
fairy, that she had but one life to lose, and in the condition in which
she then was, what was there to fear in death? Instead, therefore, of
going in search of flies, she sat herself down under a yew tree, and
began to weep and complain: "Ah, my dear husband, what grief will be
yours, when you go to the castle to fetch me, and find I am not there;
you will think that I am dead, or faithless, and I would rather that you
should mourn the loss of my life, than that of my love; perhaps someone
will find the remains of my chariot in the forest, and all the ornaments
which I took with me to please you; and when you see these, you will no
longer doubt that death has taken me; and how can I tell that you will
not give to another the heart's love which you have shared with me? But,
at least, I shall not have the pain of knowing this, since I am not to
return to the world." She would have continued communing thus with
herself for a long time, if she had not been interrupted by the dismal
croaking of a raven above her head. She lifted her eyes, and by the
feeble light saw a large raven with a frog in its bill, and about to
swallow it. "Although I see no help at hand for myself," she said, "I
will not let this poor frog perish if I can save it; it suffers as much
in its way, as I do in mine, although our conditions are so different,"
and picking up the first stick she could find, she made the raven drop
its prey. The frog fell to the ground, where it lay for a time
half-stunned, but finally recovering its froggish senses, it began to
speak, and said: "Beautiful Queen, you are the first benevolent person
that I have seen since my curiosity first brought me here." "By what
wonderful power are you enabled to speak, little Frog?" responded the
Queen, "and what kind of people do you see here? for as yet I have seen
none." "All the monsters that cover the lake," replied the little Frog,
"were once in the world: some on thrones, some in high positions at
court; there are even here some royal ladies, who caused much strife and
blood*-shed; it is they whom you see changed into leeches; their fate
condemns them to be here for a time, but none of those who come return
to the world better or wiser." "I can well understand," said the Queen,
"that many wicked people together do not help to make each other better;
but you, my little Frog friend, what are you doing here?" "It was
curiosity which led me here," she replied. "I am half a fairy, my powers
are restricted with regard to certain things, but far-reaching in
others; if the Fairy Lioness knew that I was in her dominions, she would
kill me."
"Whether fairy or half-fairy," said the Queen, "I cannot understand how
you could have fallen into the raven's clutches and been nearly eaten."
"I can explain it in a few words," replied the Frog. "When I have my
little cap of roses on my head, I fear nothing, as in that resides most
of my power; unfortunately, I had left it in the marsh, when that ugly
raven pounced upon me; if it had not been for you, madam, I should be no
more; and as you have saved my life, you have only to command, and I
will do all in my power to alleviate the sorrows of your own." "Alas!
dear Frog," said the Queen, "the wicked fairy who holds me captive
wishes me to make her a fly-pasty; but there are no flies here; if there
were any, I could not see in the dim light to catch them; I run a
chance, therefore, of being killed by her blows."
"Leave it to me," said the Frog. "I will soon get you some." Whereupon
the Frog rubbed herself over with sugar, and more than six thousand of
her frog friends did likewise; then they repaired to a place where the
fairy kept a large store of flies, for the purpose of tormenting some of
her unhappy victims. As soon as they smelt the sugar, they flew to it,
and stuck to the frogs, and these kind helpers returned at a gallop to
the Queen. There had never been such a fly-catching before, nor a better
pasty, than that the Queen made for the fairy. The latter was greatly
surprised when the Queen handed it to her, and could not imagine how she
had been clever enough to catch the flies.
The Queen, finding herself exposed to the inclemencies of the poisonous
atmosphere, cut down some cypress branches, wherewith to build herself a
hut. The Frog generously offered her services, and putting herself at
the head of all those who had gone to collect the flies, they helped the
Queen to build as pretty a little tenement as the world could show.
Scarcely, however, had she laid herself down to rest, than the monsters
of the lake, jealous of her repose, came round her hut, and nearly drove
her distracted, by setting up a noise, more hideous than any ever heard
before.
She rose in fear and trembling and fled from the house: this was exactly
what the monsters desired. A dragon, who had formerly been a tyrant of
one of the finest states of the Universe, immediately took possession of
it.
The poor Queen tried to complain of the ill-treatment, but no one would
listen to her; the monsters laughed and hooted at her, and the Fairy
Lioness told her that if she came again to deafen her with lamentations,
she would give her a sound thrashing. She was forced, therefore, to
hold her tongue, and to have recourse to the Frog, who was the kindest
body in the world. They wept together; for as soon as she put on her cap
of roses, the Frog was able to laugh or weep like anyone else. "I feel
such an affection for you," she said to the Queen, "that I will re-build
your house, even though I drive all the monsters of the lake to
despair." She immediately cut some wood, and the little rustic palace of
the Queen was so quickly reared, that she was able to sleep in it that
night. The Frog, who thought of everything that was necessary for the
Queen's comfort, made her a bed of wild thyme. When the wicked fairy
found out that the Queen did not sleep on the ground, she sent for her:
"What gods or men are they who protect you?" she asked. "This land,
watered only by showers of burning sulphur, has never produced even a
leaf of sage; I am told, nevertheless, that sweet-smelling herbs spring
up beneath your feet!"
"I cannot explain it, madam," said the Queen, "unless the cause is due
to the child I hope one day to have, who will perhaps be less unhappy
than I am."
"What I now wish for," said the fairy, "is a bunch of the rarest
flowers; see if this coming happiness you speak of will obtain these for
you. If you fail to get them, blows will not fail to follow, for these I
often give, and know well how to administer." The Queen began to cry;
such threats as these were anything but pleasant to her and she was in
despair at the thought of the impossibility of finding flowers.
She went back to her little house; her friend the Frog came to her:
"How unhappy you are!" she said to the Queen. "Alas! who would not be
so, dear friend? The fairy has ordered a bunch of the most beautiful
flowers, and where am I to find them? You see what sort of flowers grow
here; my life, nevertheless, is at stake, if I do not procure them for
her." "Dear Queen," said the Frog in tender tones, "we must try our best
to get you out of this difficulty. There lives a bat in this
neighbourhood, the only one with whom I have made acquaintance; she is a
good creature, and moves more quickly than I can; I will give her my cap
of roses, and aided by this, she will be able to find you the flowers."
The Queen made a low curtsey; for there was no possible way of embracing
the Frog. The latter went off without delay to speak to the bat; a few
hours later she returned, bearing under her wings the most exquisite
flowers. The Queen hurried off with them to the fairy, who was more
overcome by surprise than before, unable to understand in what
miraculous way the Queen received help.
Meanwhile the Queen was continually thinking by what means she could
escape. She confided her longing to the Frog, who said to her, "Madam,
allow me first to consult my little cap, and we will then arrange
matters according to its advice." She took her cap, placed it on some
straw, and then burned in front of it a few sprigs of juniper, some
capers, and two green peas; she then croaked five times, and the
ceremony being then completed, she put on her cap again, and began
speaking like an oracle. "Fate, the ruler of all things, forbids you to
leave this place. You will have a little Princess, more beautiful than
Venus herself; do not trouble yourself about anything else, time alone
can comfort you." The Queen's head drooped, a few tears fell from her
eyes, but she resolved to trust her friend: "At least," she said to her,
"do not leave me here alone; and befriend me when my little one is
born." The Frog promised to remain with her, and comforted her as best
she could.