Once upon a time, in a far off country, there lived a merchant who was enormously rich. He had six sons and six daughters,however, who were accustomed to having everything they fancied, and he did not find he had a penny too much. But aseries of misfortunes befell them. One their house caught fire and speedily burnt to the ground, with all the splendid furniture, books, pictures, gold, silver and precious goods it contained. Then the father suddenly lost every ship he had upon the sea, because of pirates, shipwreck or fire. As though that were not enough, he heard that his clerks in distant countries, whom he had trusted, had proved dishonest. And at last from great wealth he fell into direst poverty.
All that he had left was a little house in a desolate place a long distance from the town. The daughters at first hoped their friends who had been so numerous while they were rich, would insist they stay in their houses, but they soon found they were left alone. These former friends even blamed the family's misfortunes on the daughters' extravagance and showed no intention of offering any help.
So nothing was left for them but to depart for the cottage,which stood in the midst of a dark forest. They were too poor to have any servants, and the girls had to work hard; the sons, for their part, cultivated the fields to earn their living. Roughly clothed, and living in the simplest way, the girls never ceased to yearn for the luxuries and amusements of their former life. Only the youngest daughter tried to be brave and cheerful.
She had been as sad as anyone when misfortune first overtook her father, but soon recovered her natural gaiety. She set to work to make the best of things, to amuse her father and brothers as well as she could and to persuade her sisters to join her in dancing and singing. But they would do nothing of the sort and, because she was not as gloomy as themselves, they declared their miserable life was all she was fit for. But she was really far prettier and cleverer than they were. Indeed, she was so lovely she was always called Beauty.
After two years, their father received news that one of his ships, which he had believed lost, had come safely into port with a rich cargo. All the sons and daughters at once thought that their poverty was at an end and wanted to set out directly for thetown; but their father, who was more prudent, begged them to wait a little.
Only the youngest daughter had any doubt about whether they would soon again be as rich as they were before. All the others burdened their father with demands for jewels and dresses which would have taken a fortune to buy; only Beauty did not ask for anything. Her father, noticing her silence, said, "And what
shall I bring for you, Beauty?"
"The one thing I wish for is to see you come home safely," she answered.
But this answer annoyed her sisters, who fancied she was blaming them for having asked for such costly things. Her father, however, was pleased, and he urged her to choose something.
"Well dear father," she said, "as you insist upon it, I beg that you will bring me a rose. I have not seen one since we came here, and I love them so much."
The merchant set out, only to find that his former companions, believing him to be dead, had divided his cargo among themselves. After six months of trouble and expense he found himself as poor as when he had started on his journey. To make matters worse, he returned during a terrible snowstorm. By the time he was within a few miles of his home he was almost exhausted with cold and fatigue. Though he knew it would take some hours to get through the forest, he resolved togo on. But night overtook him, and the deep snow and bitter frost made it impossible for his horse to carry him any farther.
The only shelter he could find was the hollow trunk of a great tree, and there he crouched all night. The howling of the wolves kept him awake, and when day broke, the falling snow had covered every path, and he did not know which way to turn.
At length he made out some sort of way, but it was so rough and slippery that he fell more than once. Presently it led him into an avenue of trees, which were covered with flowers and fruit. When he reached the first courtyard he saw before him a flight of agate steps. He went up and passed through several splendidly furnished rooms.
The pleasant warmth of the air revived him, and he felt very hungry; but there seemed to be nobody in all this vast and splendid palace. Deep silence reigned everywhere, and at last, tired of roaming through the empty rooms and galleries, he stopped in a room smaller than the rest, where a cheerful fire was burning and a couch was drawn up before it. Thinking this must be prepared for someone who was expected, he sat down to wait till he should come, and very soon fell into a sweet sleep.
When extreme hunger wakened him after several hours, he was still alone; but a table, with a good dinner on it, had beendrawn up close to him. He lost no time in beginning his meal, hoping he might soon thank his considerate host, whoever he might be. But noone appeared, and even after another long sleep, from which he awoke completely refreshed, there was no sign of anybody, though a fresh meal of dainty cakes and fruit was on the little table at his elbow.
Being naturally timid, he grew terrified of the silence, and he resolved to search once more through all the rooms; but it was of no use, there was no sign of life in the palace. Then he went down into the garden, and though it was winter everywhere else, here the sun shone, the birds sang, the flowers bloomed and the air was soft and sweet. The merchant, in ecstasies at all he saw and heard, said to himself, "All this must be meant for me, I will go and bring my children to share all these delights."
In spite of being so cold and weary when he reached the castle, he had taken his horse to the stable and fed it. Now he thought he would saddle it for his homeward journey, and he turned down the path which led to the stable. This path had a hedge of roses on each side of it, and the merchant thought he had never seen such exquisite flowers. They reminded him of his promise to Beauty, and he stopped and had just gathered one to take to her when he was startled by a strange noise behind him. Turning round, he saw a frightful Beast.
“Who told you, you might gather my roses?" cried the Beast in a terrible voice. "Was it not enough that I sheltered you in my palace and was kind to you? This is the way you show your gratitude, by stealing my flowers! But your insolence shall not go unpunished."
The merchant, terrified by those furious words, dropped the fatal rose and, throwing himself on his knees, cried, "Pardon me, noble sir. I am truly grateful for you hospitality. It was so magnificent I could not imagine you would be offended by my taking such a little thing as a rose."
But the Beast's anger was not lessened by his speech. "You are very ready with excuses and flattery," he cried. "But that will not save you from the death you deserve."
Alas, thought the merchant, if my daughter Beauty could only know what danger her rose has brought me! And in despair he began to tell the Beast all his misfortunes and the reason for his journey, not forgetting to mention Beauty's request. "A King's ransom would hardly have procured all that my other daughters asked for," he said. "But I thought I might at least take Beauty her rose. I beg you to forgive me."
The Beast said, in a less furious tone, "I will forgive you on one condition - that you will give me one of your daughters."
"Ah," cried the merchant, "if I were cruel enough to buy my own life at the expense of one of my children's, what excuse could I invent to bring her here?"
"None," answered the Beast. "If she comes at all she must come willingly. On no other condition will I have her. See if any of them is courageous enough and loves you enough, to come and save your life. You seem to be an honest man, so I will trust you to go home. I give you a month to see if any of your daughters will come back with you and stay here, so that you may go free. If none of them is willing, you must come alone, for then you will belong to me. And do not imagine that you can hide from me, for if you fail to keep your word I will come and fetch you!" added the Beast grimly.
The merchant accepted this proposal. He promised to return at the time appointed, and then anxious to escape from the presence of the Beast, he asked permission to set off at once. But the Beast answered that he could not go until the next day. "Then you will find a horse ready for you," he said. "Now go and eat your supper and await my orders."
The poor merchant, more dead than alive, went back to his room, where the most delicious supper was already served on the little table before a blazing fire. But he was too terrified to eat and only tasted a few of the dishes, for fear that the Beast should be angry if he did not obey his orders. When he had finished, the Beast warned him to remember their agreement and to prepare his daughter for exactly what she had to expect.
"Do not get up tomorrow," he added, "until you see the sun rise and hear a golden bell ring. Then you will find your breakfast waiting for you, and the horse you are to ride will be ready in the courtyard. He will also bring you back again when you come with your daughter a month from now. Farewell. Take a rose to Beauty, and remember your promise!"
The merchant lay down until dawn. Then, after breakfast, he went to gather Beauty's flower and mounted his horse, which carried him off so swifly that in an instant he had lost sight of the palace. He was still wrapped in gloomy thoughts when the horse stopped before the door of his cottage.
His sons and dughters, who had been uneasy at his long absence, rushed to meet him, eager to know the result of his journey. Seeing him mounted upon a splendid horse and wrapped in a rich mantle, they supposed his journey had been successful. But he hid the truth from them at first, only saying sadly to Beauty as he gave her the rose: "Here is what you asked me to bring you. Little do you know what it has cost."
Presently he told them his adventures from beginning to end, and then they were all very unhappy. The girls lamented loudly over their lost hopes, and the sons declared that their father should not return to the terrible castle. But he reminded them that he had promised to go back. Then the girls were very angry with Beauty and said that it was all her fault. If she had asked for something sensible this would never have happened.
Poor Beauty, much distressed, said to them, "I have indeed caused this misfortune, but who could have guessed that to ask for a rose would cause so much misery? But as I did the mischief it is only just that I should suffer fot it. I will therefore go back with my father to keep his promise."
At first nobody would hear of it. Her father and brothers, who loved her dearly, declared that nothing would make them let her go. But Beauty was firm. As the time drew near she divided her little possessions among her sisters and said goodbye to everything she loved. When the fatal day came, she and her father both mounted the horse which had brought him back. It seemed to fly rather than gallop, but so smoothly that Beauty was not frightened. Indeed, she would have enjoyed the journey if she had not feared what might happen at the end of it. Her father tried to persuade her to go back home with him, but in vain.
While they were riding the night fell. Then, to their great surprise, splendid fireworks blazed out before them and all the forest was illuminated. They even felt pleasantly warm, though it had been bitterly cold before. They reached the avenue of orange trees and saw that the palace was brilliantly lit from roof to ground, and music sounded softly from the courtyard.
"The Beast must be very hungry," said Beauty, trying to laugh, "if he makes all this rejoicing over the arrival of his prey." But, in spite of her anxiety, she admired all the wonderful things she saw.
When they had dismounted, her father led her to the little room. Here they found a crackling fire and the table spread with a delicious supper.
Beauty, who was less frightened now that she had passed through so many rooms and seen nothing of the Beast, was quite willing to begin, for her long ride had made her very hungry. But they had hardly finished their meal when the noise of the Beast's footsteps was heard approaching, and Beauty clung to her father in terror, which became all the greater when she saw how frightened he was. But when the Beast appeared, though she trembled at the sight of him, she made a great effort to hide her horror, and faced him most respectfully.
This evidently pleased the Beast. After looking at her he said, in a tone that might have struck terror into the boldest heart, though he did not seem to be angry, "Good-evening, old man. Good-evening Beauty."
The merchant was too terrified to reply, but Beauty answered sweetly, "Good-evening, Beast."
"Have you come willingly?" asked the Beast. "Will you be content to stay here when your father has gone away?"
Beauty answered bravely that she was quite prepared to stay.
"I am pleased with you," said the Beast. "You have come of your own accord, so you may remain. As for you, old man," he added, turning to the merchant,"at sun rise tomorrow take your departure. When the bell rings, get up quickly and eat your breakfast, and you will find the same horse waiting to take you home."
Then turning to Beauty, he said, "Take your father into the next room, and help him to choose gifts for your brothers and sisters. You will find two travelling trunks there; fill them as full as you can. It is only just that you should send them something as precious as a remembrance." Then he went away.
Beauty was beginning to think with great dismay of her father's departure, but they went into the next room and were greatly surprised at the riches they found. There were splendid dresses fit for a queen, and when Beauty opened the chests she was dazzled by the gorgeous jewels lying in heaps upon every shelf. After choosing a vast quantity for each of her sisters, she opened the last chest and discovered that it was full of gold.
"I think Father," she said, "that, as the gold will be more useful to you, we had better take out the other things and fill the trunks with it."
So they did this, but the more they put in, the more room there seemed to be, and at last they put back all the jewels and dresses they had taken out, and Beauty even added as many more of the jewels as she could carry. Even then the trunks were not too full, but they were so heavy an elephant could not have carried them!
"The Beast was mocking us!" cried the merchant. "He pretended to give us all these things, knowing that I could not carry them away."
"Let us wait and see," answered Beauty. "I cannot believe he meant to deceive us. All we can do is to fasten them and have them ready."
So they did this and returned to the little room, where they found breakfast prepared. The merchant ate with a good appetite, as the Beast's generosity made him believe he might perhaps venture to come back soon and see Beauty. But she felt sure that her father was leaving her for ever, so she was very sad when the bell rang sharply.
They went down into the courtyard, where two horses were waiting, one loaded with the two trunks, the other for him to ride. They were pawing the ground in their impatience to start, and the merchant bade Beauty a hasty farewell. As soon as he was mounted, the horses went off at such a pace that she lost sight of her father in an instant. Then Beauty began to cry and wandered sadly back to her own room.
But she soon found she was very sleepy, and as she had nothing better to do she lay down and instantly fell asleep. And then she dreamt she was walking by a brook bordered with trees, and lamenting her sad fate, when a young Prince, more handsome than anyone she had ever seen and with a voice that went straight to her heart, came and said to her, "Ah, Beauty, you are not so unfortunate as you suppose. Here every wish shall be granted. Only try to learn who I am, no matter how I may be disguised, for I love you dearly, and in making me happy you will find your own happiness. Be as true-hearted as you are beautiful, and we shall have nothing left to wish for."
"What can I do Prince, to make you happy?" said Beauty.
"Only be grateful and do not trust too much to your eyes," he answered. "Above all, do not desert me until you have saved me from my cruel misery."
As her dream continued she found herself in a room with a stately and beautiful lady, who said to her, "Dear Beauty, try not to regret all you have left behind you; you are destined for a better fate. Only do not be deceived by appearances."
Beauty found her dream so interesting that she was in no hurry to wake up, but presently the clock roused her by calling her name softly twelve times. Then she rose and found her dressing table set out with everything she could possibly want, and when she was dressed, she found dinner waiting in the room next to hers. But dinner does not take very long when one is alone, and soon she sat down cosily in the corner of a sofa and began to think about the charming Prince she had seen in her dream.
"He said I could make him happy," said Beauty to herself. It seems, then, that this horrible Beast keeps him a prisoner. How can I set him free? I wonder why they both told me not to trust appearances? But, after all, it was only a dream, so why should I trouble myself about it? I had better find something to do to amuse myself."
So she began to explore some of the rooms in the palace. The first she entered was lined with mirrors. Beauty saw herself reflected on every side and thought she had never seen such a charming room. Then a bracelet which was hanging from a chandelier caught her eye, and on taking it down she was greatly surprised to find that it held a portrait of her unknown admirer, just as she had seen him in her dream. With great delight she slipped the bracelet on her arm and went into a gallery of pictures, where she soon found a portrait of the same handsome Prince, as large as life, and so well paiand so we as she studied it he seemed to smile kindly at her.
Tearing herself away from the portrait at last, she passed into a room which contained every musical instrument under the sun, and there she amused herself for a long while by trying them. By this time it was growing dark, and wax candles in diamond and ruby candlesticks lit themselves in every room.
Beauty found her supper served just at the time she liked to have it, but she did not see anyone or hear a sound and, though her father had warned her that she would be alone, she began to find it rather dull.
Presently, she heard the beast coming and wondered tremlingly if he meant to eat her now. However, he did not seem at all ferocious, and only said gruffly: "Good-evening, Beauty."
She answered cheerfully and managed to conceal her terror. The beast asked how she had been amusing herself, and she told him all the rooms she had seen. Then he asked if she thought she could be happy in his palace; and Beauty answered that everything was so beautiful that she would be very hard to please if she could not be happy. After an hour's talk Beauty began to think the Beast was not nearly as terrible as she had supposed. Then he rose to leave and said in his gruff voice,"Do you love me, Beauty? Will you marry me?"
"Oh, what shall I say?" cried Beauty, for she was afraid to make the Beast angry by refusing.
"Say yes or no without fear," he replied.
"Oh no, Beast," said Beauty hastily.
"Since you will not, good-night, Beauty," he said.
And she answered, "Good-night, Beast," very glad too find her refusal had not provoked him. After he had gone, she was very soon in bed and dreaming of her unknown Prince.