Part 3

“Am I come here,” said the ill-bred, saucy girl, “to serve you with water, pray? I suppose this silver tankard was brought wholly on purpose for your ladyship, was it? I should think so! You must drink out of the fountain, if you want any.”

“You are hardly polite,” answered the fairy, without putting herself in a passion. “Well, then, since you are so disobliging, I give you for a gift, that at every word you speak there shall come out of your mouth a snake or a toad.”

As soon as her mother saw her coming, she cried out, “Well, daughter?”

“Well, mother,” answered the rude girl, throwing out of her mouth a viper and a toad.

“Oh, mercy!” cried the mother, “what is this I see? It is her sister who is the cause of all this, but she shall pay for it”; and immediately she ran to beat her.

The poor child fled away from her and went to hide herself in the forest near by. The King’s son, as he was returning from hunting, met her, and seeing how beautiful she was, asked her what she was doing there all alone, and why she was crying.

“Alas, sir, my mother has turned me out of doors!”

The King’s son, seeing five or six pearls and as many diamonds fall from her mouth, desired her to tell him how that happened. Then she told him the whole story.

The King’s son fell in love with her, and, considering that such a gift was worth more than any marriage portion any one else could bring, conducted her to the palace of the King, his father, and there married her.

As for her sister, she made herself so much hated that her own mother turned her out of doors. The miserable girl, after wandering about without finding any one who would take her in, went away to a corner of the wood and there died.

PUSS IN BOOTS

Once upon a time there was a miller who, when he died, had nothing to leave to his three sons but his mill, his ass, and his cat. The division was soon made. Neither the notary nor the attorney were sent for; they would soon have eaten up all the poor patrimony. The eldest had the mill, the second the ass, and the youngest nothing but the cat.

The youngest was quite downcast at having so poor a share.

“My brothers,” said he, “may get their living handsomely enough by joining their portions together; but as for me, when I have eaten my cat and made me a muff of his skin, I must die of hunger.”

The cat, who heard all this without appearing to do so, came up to him and said with a grave and serious air, “Do not thus afflict yourself, my good master; you have only to give me a bag, and get a pair of boots made for me,—that I may scamper through the dirt and the brambles,—and you shall see that you have not so poor a portion in me as you imagine.”

Though the cat’s master did not build great hopes on what he said, yet he had seen him play such cunning tricks to catch rats and mice,—such as hanging himself by his heels, or hiding himself in the meal to make believe he was dead,—that he did not altogether despair of his helping him in his misery. When the cat had what he asked for, he booted himself very gallantly, and putting his bag about his neck, he took hold of the two strings with his fore paws, and went into a warren where there were a great many rabbits. He put bran and parsley into his bag, and stretching himself out at full length as if he were dead, he waited for some young rabbits, not yet acquainted with the snares and tricks of this world, to come and rummage his bag for what he had put into it.

Scarcely had he lain down before his wish was fulfilled. A rash and foolish young rabbit jumped headlong into his bag, and Master Puss immediately drew close the strings, and killed him without mercy. Proud of his prey, he went with it to the palace and asked to speak with the King. He was shown upstairs into the King’s apartment, and making a low bow, said to him: “I have brought you, sire, a rabbit from the warren of my Lord the Marquis of Carabas [for that was the title which he was pleased to give his master], which he has commanded me to present to your Majesty with the assurance of his respect.”

“Tell your master,” said the King, “that I thank him, and that he has given me great pleasure.”

Another time he went and hid himself among some standing corn, holding his bag open as before, and when a brace of partridges ran into it, he drew the strings, and so caught them both. He then went and presented these to the King, as he had previously done with the rabbit which he took in the warren. The King in like manner received the partridges with great pleasure, and ordered his servants to reward him.

In this way the cat continued for two or three months to carry to his Majesty from time to time game of his master’s taking. One day when he knew that the King was intending to take the air along the riverside with his daughter, who was the most beautiful Princess in the world, he went to his master and said: “If you will follow my advice, your fortune is made. You have only to go and bathe in the river, just in the place I shall show you, and leave the rest to me.”

The Marquis of Carabas did what the cat advised, without knowing what would be the good of doing so. While he was bathing, the King passed by, and the cat began to cry out with all his might: “Help! help! my Lord Marquis of Carabas is drowning!”

At this noise the King put his head out of the coach window, and, seeing it was the cat who had so often brought him presents of game, commanded his guards to run immediately to the assistance of his lordship the Marquis of Carabas.

While they were drawing the poor marquis out of the river the cat came up to the coach and told the King that while his master was bathing there had come by some rogues who ran off with his clothes, though he had cried out “Thieves! thieves!” several times as loud as he could.

The cunning cat had hidden them under a great stone.

The King immediately commanded the officers of his wardrobe to run and fetch one of his best suits for the Lord Marquis of Carabas.

The King loaded the marquis with a thousand attentions, and as the fine clothes he had given him set off his good looks (for he was well made and comely), the King’s daughter found him very much to her liking, and the Marquis of Carabas had no sooner cast two or three respectful and somewhat tender glances in her direction than she fell in love with him to distraction. The King insisted on his getting into the coach and taking the ride with them. The cat, overjoyed at seeing how well his plan was beginning to succeed, ran on before, and coming upon some countrymen who were mowing a meadow, he said to them, “Good people, if you do not tell the King, who will presently pass this way, that the meadow which you are mowing belongs to my Lord Marquis of Carabas, you shall be chopped as small as herbs for the pot.”

The King did not fail to ask the mowers to whom the meadow they were mowing belonged.

“To my Lord Marquis of Carabas,” they answered all together, for the cat’s threat had frightened them.

“You have here a very fine piece of land, my Lord Marquis,” said the King.

“Yes, sire,” replied the marquis, “this is a meadow which never fails to yield a plentiful harvest every year.”

The cat, who still went on before, met some reapers, and said to them, “Good people, if you do not say to the King, who will presently pass this way, that all this corn belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, you shall be chopped as small as herbs for the pot.”

The King, who passed by a moment after, wished to know to whom all that corn before him belonged.

“To my Lord Marquis of Carabas,” replied the reapers; and the King was again very well pleased with the marquis.

The cat continued to go before the carriage and say the same words to every one he met, and the King was astonished at the vast estates of my Lord Marquis of Carabas.

The cat came at last to a stately castle, the master of which was an ogre, the richest ever known; for all the lands the King had been passing through belonged to this castle. The cat, who had taken care to inform himself who this ogre was, and what he could do, asked to speak with him, saying he could not pass so near his castle without having the honor of paying his respects to him.

The ogre received him as civilly as an ogre could, and made him sit down.

“I have been assured,” said the cat, “that you have the gift of being able to change yourself into all sorts of animals, if you have a mind to; that you can, for example, transform yourself into a lion or an elephant.”

“That is true,” answered the ogre roughly; “and to convince you, you shall see me now become a lion.”

The cat was so terrified at the sight of a lion so near him that he sprang away, and climbed up on the roof, but not without much difficulty and danger, as his boots were of no use at all for walking upon tiles. A little while after, when he saw that the ogre had quitted the form of a lion, he came down, and owned that he had been a good deal frightened.

“I have been further informed (but I know not how to believe it),” said the cat, “that you have also the power of taking the form of the smallest animals,—for example, that you can change yourself into a rat or a mouse; but I must own that I hold this to be impossible.”

“Impossible!” cried the ogre; “you shall see.” And at the same instant he changed himself into a mouse and began to run about the floor.

The moment the cat saw the ogre in this form he sprang upon him and ate him up.

Meanwhile the King, who saw, as he passed, this fine castle of the ogre’s, had a mind to go into it. Master Puss, hearing the noise of his Majesty’s coach crossing the drawbridge, ran out, and said to the King, “Your Majesty is welcome to the castle of my Lord Marquis of Carabas.”

“What! my Lord Marquis,” cried the King, “and is this castle yours also? There can be nothing finer than this court, and all the stately buildings that surround it; let us see the interior, if you please.”

The marquis gave his hand to the young Princess, and followed the King who went before. They entered a spacious hall, where they found a splendid collation which the ogre had prepared for some friends who were to visit him that very day, but who dared not enter, hearing that the King was there. The King was so charmed with the good qualities of my Lord the Marquis of Carabas, and his daughter had fallen so violently in love with him, that, seeing the vast estate he possessed, he said to him at the end of the collation, “It depends only on you, my Lord Marquis, if you are not my son-in-law.”

The marquis, with low bows, accepted the honor which his Majesty conferred upon him, and forthwith that very same day married the Princess.

Puss in Boots became a great lord, and never ran after mice any more except for his amusement.

RAPUNZEL

Once upon a time there lived a man and his wife who were very sad because they had no children. These people had a little window at the back of their house which overlooked a beautiful garden full of fine flowers and herbs. There was a high wall around this garden, and no one dared to go into it, because it belonged to a witch of great power, who was feared by everybody.

One day the woman stood at this window, looking into the garden, and saw a bed full of the finest rampion. It looked so fresh and green that she longed to eat some of it. This desire grew every day, and as she knew that she could not possibly have any of it, she pined away and looked pale and miserable. Then her husband was alarmed, and said, “What ails you, dear wife?”

“Ah,” she replied sadly, “if I cannot get some of that nice rampion to eat out of the garden behind our house, I know that I shall die!”

Her husband, who loved her dearly, thought to himself, “Rather than let my wife die, I must bring her some rampion, let the cost be what it may.” So at dusk he climbed over the wall into the witch’s garden, hastily picked a handful of rampion leaves, and took them back to his wife.

She made them into a salad, which she ate with great relish. Indeed, she liked it so very much that the next day she longed for it three times as much as before. She could have no peace until her husband descended into the garden and fetched her some more. So as soon as it was dusk he let himself down again into the garden; but when he had clambered down and was on the other side of the wall, he was terribly frightened, for there, standing before him, was the old witch with a frightful scowl on her face.

“How dare you climb into my garden like a thief and steal my rampion?” she said, with angry looks. “You shall suffer for it.”

“Ah,” he replied, “be merciful to me this time, I pray you! I am only here from necessity. My wife saw your rampion from her window, and had such a desire for it that she would have died if she had not had some of it to eat.”

Then the witch’s anger cooled a little, and she answered: “If that is the case, I will let you take away as much rampion as you like, but on one condition,—that you give me the child that your wife will shortly bring into the world. All shall go well with it, and I will care for it like a mother.”

In his anxiety to get away the man agreed to what she asked, and as soon as the child was born the witch appeared, and having given it the name of Rapunzel,—which is another name for rampion,—she took it away with her.

Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old the witch shut her up in a tower which lay in the middle of a great forest. This tower had neither stairs nor door,—only a little window high up at the very top of the wall. When the witch wanted to enter the tower she stood beneath this window and called:

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair.”

Rapunzel had wonderful hair, long, and as fine as spun gold. When she heard the voice of the witch she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the little window, and let them hang loose. They fell down about twenty yards, so that the witch could easily climb up by them.

After things had gone on in this way for a year or two, it happened one day that the King’s son was riding through that part of the forest and passed by the tower. He heard some one singing so beautifully that he stood spellbound, listening. It was Rapunzel, who in her solitude and loneliness was trying to while away the long hours by singing. The Prince longed to see the sweet singer and climb up to her, but he searched in vain for a door into the tower. None was to be found. He rode home, but the song had made such a deep impression on him that he went every day to the wood and listened. One day, when he was standing thus behind a tree, he saw the old witch approach and heard her call:

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair.”

Then Rapunzel let down her braids, and the witch climbed up to her.

“So that is the ladder by which one mounts, is it?” said the Prince. “Then I, too, will climb it and try my luck.”

The next night, when it began to grow dark, he went to the foot of the tower and cried:

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair.”

The hair fell down at once, and the Prince climbed up by it.

At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man came in, for she had never seen one before; but the Prince spoke to her very kindly, and told her that his heart had been so touched by her singing that he could have no peace until he had seen her. So Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her to marry him she thought, “He is young and handsome, and he will certainly love me far more than old Dame Gothel does”; so she said “Yes,” and put her hand in his.

“I will gladly go with you,” she continued, “but I do not see how I am to get down out of this tower. When you come, bring with you a skein of silk each time, and I will weave a ladder out of them; when it is finished, I will climb down by it, and you shall take me away on your horse.”

They arranged that until the ladder was ready he should come and see her every evening, bringing skeins of silk, for the witch came in the daytime.

The witch knew nothing of all this till one day Rapunzel, not thinking what she was saying, made this remark: “Tell me, Dame Gothel, how is it that you are so much harder to pull up than the young Prince? He is always with me in a moment.”

“Oh, you wicked, wicked child!” cried the witch. “What is this I hear? I thought I had separated you from the whole world, and yet you have deceived me.”

In her rage she seized Rapunzel’s beautiful hair, twisted it round and round her left hand, snatched up a pair of scissors with her right, and snip, snap, she cut it all off; and the beautiful tresses lay on the ground. Then she was so hard-hearted that she took poor Rapunzel to a lonely desert place and there left her to live in utter loneliness and misery.

But on the evening of the day on which she had carried Rapunzel away she fastened the braids which she had cut off to a hook by the window, and when the Prince came and called:

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair,”

she let the hair down. The Prince climbed up, but instead of his beloved Rapunzel he found the old witch, who looked at him with angry, wicked eyes, and cried mockingly, “Aha! you thought to fetch your ladylove, but the pretty bird has flown, and the song is still; the cat caught it, and will scratch out your eyes too. Rapunzel is lost to you—you will never see her again.”

The Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he jumped right down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes out. Then he wandered, blind, about the forest, eating nothing but roots and berries, and constantly lamenting and weeping for the loss of his lovely bride. For some years he wandered about in great misery, and at last he came to the desert place where Rapunzel was living. Suddenly he heard a voice which seemed familiar to him. He walked eagerly toward it, and as he came near, Rapunzel recognized him and fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears fell upon his eyes, and they became clear again, so that he could see as well as ever.

Then he led her to his kingdom, where they were welcomed with great joy, and they lived happily ever after.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

There was once a very rich merchant who had three sons and three daughters. These children had everything money could buy them. The daughters were all pretty, but the youngest was so very beautiful that from her childhood she was always called “Beauty.” This made her sisters very jealous; but they were proud of their wealth and of their position in society, and took pains to be haughty with any people who were not as rich as they.

One day the merchant suddenly lost all his fortune. All that he had left of his vast property was a little house in the country, a long distance from the town. He told his children that they must go there now and work for a living. The two eldest replied that they need not leave town, for they had several lovers who would be glad to marry them. In this they found they were mistaken; their lovers would not look at them now. Because of their pride they had not made real friends, and nobody was very sorry to see them humbled. But every one pitied Beauty, who had always been kind and friendly to every one. Indeed, several gentlemen offered to marry her, though they knew she had not a penny; but she told them she could not think of leaving her father in his trouble.

When they were settled in the country the merchant and his three sons set to work to till the fields. Beauty took care of the house. She rose at four o’clock in the morning, lighted the fires, swept and dusted the house, and got breakfast for the family. At first she found all this very hard, for she was not used to it; but she soon grew stronger and healthier, and prettier than ever. When her work was over she would read, or play on the harpsichord, or sing as she sat at her spinning wheel.

Her two sisters did not know what to do with themselves. They would get up at ten, and idle away the whole day, fretting for the loss of their fine clothes and gay parties. “Do but see that girl!” they would say to one another. “What stupid, low tastes she has to be contented with this kind of life!” But their father thought differently, and loved his youngest daughter more than ever.

After two years, when they were all beginning to get accustomed to this new life, something happened to disturb them again. The merchant received the news that one of his ships, which he had believed to be lost, had come safely into port with a rich cargo. All the sons and daughters were much excited at this news, and believed that their poverty was at an end. The two eldest daughters were wild with joy, and wanted to set out for town at once. When their father was ready to start, they begged him to bring them jewels and rings and rich dresses. Beauty was the only one of the children who had any doubt that this one ship would bring back their fortune; so, not wishing to trouble her father, she asked for nothing. But her father noticed her silence, and inquired, “What shall I bring you, Beauty?”

“Well, dear father,” she said, “since you ask me, I should like to have you bring me a rose. They do not grow about here, and I am very fond of them.”

Beauty did not particularly desire a rose, but she did not wish to seem to blame her sisters by saying she did not want anything.

The merchant set off on his journey, but when he reached the port he was obliged to go to law about the cargo, and it ended in his returning home as poor as he came. He was within thirty miles of home when, in the middle of a large forest, he was overtaken by a heavy snowstorm. He lost his way, and was beginning to fear he should die of hunger and cold, when all of a sudden he saw a light at the end of a long avenue of trees. As he came nearer he found it came from a splendid palace, the windows of which were blazing with light. He entered the courtyard, but, to his surprise, did not meet any one. His horse followed him, and seeing a stable door open, he walked in. The manger was filled with hay and oats, and the poor beast, who was almost famished, fell to eating heartily. His master walked toward the palace, and passed through several splendidly furnished rooms, but still saw nobody. He came to the dining room, where he found a good fire, and a table plentifully spread, and set for one person. As he was wet to the skin, he drew near the fire to dry his clothes, saying to himself, “I hope the master of the house or his servants will excuse the liberty I am taking; I suppose it will not be long before some of them appear.”

He waited for some time, and still no one came; at last the clock struck eleven, and as he was so hungry he could not wait any longer, he helped himself to some chicken, and drank a little wine. Then he opened a door at the end of the hall, and found himself in a room with a very good bed in it. As he was very tired, he closed the door and went to bed.

It was ten o’clock in the morning before the merchant awoke. As he was getting up, he was surprised to find a new suit of clothes in place of his own which were torn and spoiled.

“This palace,” said he to himself, “certainly belongs to some good fairy who has seen and pitied my misfortunes.”

He looked out of the window, but instead of snowy woods he saw the most delightful arbors, filled with beautiful blooming flowers.