The Classic Fairy Tales_Norton Critical Edition
Page 9
He waited a long time. Once the clock struck eleven and there was still no one in sight, he could not resist the pangs of hunger and, trembling with fear, he took a chicken and ate it all up in two big bites. He also drank several glasses of wine and, feeling more daring, he left the great hall and crossed many large, magnificently furnished apartments. Finally he found a room with a good bed. Since it was past midnight and he was exhausted, he took it upon himself to close the door and go to bed.
When he woke up the next day, it was already ten in the morning. He was greatly surprised to find clean clothes in place of the ones that had been completely ruined by the rain. “Surely,” he thought to himself, “this palace belongs to some good fairy who has taken pity on me.”
He looked out the window and saw that it was no longer snowing. Before his eyes a magnificent vista of gardens and flowers unfolded. He returned to the great hall where he had dined the night before and found a small table with a cup of hot chocolate on it. “Thank you, Madame Fairy,” he said out loud, “for being so kind as to remember my breakfast.”
After finishing his hot chocolate, the good man left to go find his horse. Passing beneath a magnificent arbor of roses, he remembered that Beauty had asked him for a rose, and he plucked one from a branch with many flowers on it. At that very moment, he heard a loud noise and saw a beast coming toward him. It looked so dreadful that he almost fainted.
“You are very ungrateful,” said the beast in a terrible voice. “I have saved your life by sheltering you in my castle, and you repay me by stealing my roses, which I love more than anything in the world. You will have to pay for your offense. I’m going to give you exactly a quarter of an hour to beg God’s forgiveness.”
The merchant fell to his knees and, hands clasped, pleaded with the beast: “My Liege, pardon me. I did not think I would be offending you by plucking a rose for my daughter, who asked me to bring her one or two.”
“I am not called ‘My Liege,’ ” said the monster. “My name is Beast. I don’t like flattery, and I prefer that people say what they think. So don’t try to move me with your compliments. But you said that you have some daughters. I am prepared to forgive you if one of your daughters consents to die in your place. Don’t argue with me. Just go. If your daughters refuse to die for you, swear that you will return in three days.”
The good man was not about to sacrifice one of his daughters to this hideous monster, but he thought: “At least I will have the pleasure of embracing them one last time.”
He swore that he would return, and Beast told him that he could leave whenever he wished. “But I don’t want you to go empty-handed,” he added. “Return to the room in which you slept. There you will find a large empty chest. You can fill it up with whatever you like, and I will have it delivered to your door.”
The beast withdrew, and the good man thought to himself: “If I must die, I will at least have the consolation of leaving something for my poor children to live on.”
The merchant returned to the room where he had slept. He filled the great chest that Beast had described with the many gold pieces he found there. After he found his horse in the stable, he left the palace with a sadness equal to the joy he had felt on entering it. His horse instinctively took one of the forest paths, and in just a few hours, the good man arrived at his little house. His children gathered around him, but instead of responding to their caresses, the merchant burst into tears as he gazed on them. In his hand, he was holding the branch of roses he had brought for Beauty. He gave it to her and said: “Beauty, take these roses. They have cost your poor father dearly.”
Then the merchant told his family about the woeful events that had befallen him. Upon hearing the tale, the two sisters uttered loud cries and said derogatory things to Beauty, who was not crying: “See what the pride of this little creature has brought down on us!” they said. “Why didn’t she ask for fine clothes the way we did. No, she wanted to get all the attention. She’s responsible for Father’s death, and she’s not even shedding a tear!”
“That would be quite pointless,” Beauty replied. “Why should I shed tears about Father when he is not going to die. Since the monster is willing to accept one of his daughters, I am prepared to risk all his fury. I feel fortunate to be able to sacrifice myself for him, since I will have the pleasure of saving my father and proving my feelings of tenderness for him.”
“No, sister,” said her three brothers. “You won’t die. We will find this monster, and we are prepared to die under his blows if we are unable to slay him.”
“Don’t count on that, children,” said the merchant. “The beast’s power is so great that I don’t have the least hope of killing him. I am moved by the goodness of Beauty’s heart, but I refuse to risk her life. I’m old and don’t have many years left. I will only lose a few years of my life, and I don’t regret losing them for your sake, my dear children.”
“Rest assured, Father,” said Beauty, “that you will not go to that palace without me. You can’t keep me from following you. I may be young, but I am not all that attached to life, and I would rather be devoured by that monster than die of the grief which your loss would cause me.”
It was no use arguing with Beauty. She was determined to go to the palace. Her sisters were delighted, for the virtues of their younger sister had filled them with a good deal of envy. The merchant was so preoccupied by the sad prospect of losing his daughter that he forgot about the chest he had filled with gold. But as soon as he repaired to his room to get some sleep, he was astonished to find it beside his bed. He decided not to tell his children that he had become rich, for his daughters would then want to return to town, and he was determined to die in the country. He did confide his secret to Beauty, who told him that several gentlemen had come during his absence and that two of them wanted to marry her sisters. Beauty begged her father to let them marry. She was so kind that she still loved her sisters with all her heart and forgave them the evil they had done her.
When Beauty left with her father, the two mean sisters rubbed their eyes with an onion in order to draw tears. But the brothers cried real tears, as did the merchant. Only Beauty did not cry at all, because she did not want to make everyone even more sad.
The horse took the road to the palace, and, when night fell, they could see that it was all lit up. The horse went by itself to the stable, and the good man went with his daughter into the hall, where there was a magnificently set table with two place settings. The merchant did not have the stomach to eat, but Beauty, forcing herself to appear calm, sat down and served her father. “You see, Father,” she said while forcing a laugh, “the beast wants to fatten me up before eating me, since he paid so dearly for me.”
After they had dined, they heard a loud noise, and the merchant tearfully bid adieu to his poor daughter, for he knew it was the beast. Beauty could not help but tremble at the sight of this horrible figure, but she tried as hard as she could to stay calm. The monster asked her if she had come of her own free will and, trembling, she replied that she had.
“You are very kind,” said Beast, “and I am very grateful to you. As for you, my good man, get out of here by tomorrow morning and don’t think of coming back here ever again. Goodbye, Beauty.”
“Goodbye, Beast,” she replied. Suddenly the monster vanished.
“Oh my daughter!” cried the merchant, embracing Beauty. “I am half dead with fear. Believe me, you have to let me stay,” he said.
“No, Father,” Beauty said firmly. “You must go tomorrow morning and leave me to the mercy of heaven. Heaven may still take pity on me.”
They both went to bed thinking that they would not be able to sleep all night long, but they had hardly gotten into their beds when their eyes closed. While she was sleeping, Beauty saw a woman who said to her: “I am pleased with your kind heart, Beauty. The good deed you have done in saving your father’s life will not go unrewarded.”
Upon waking, Beauty recounted this dream to her father.
While it comforted him a little, it did not keep him from crying out loud when he had to leave his dear daughter. After he had left, Beauty sat down in the great hall and began to cry as well. But since she was courageous, she put herself in God’s hands and resolved not to bemoan her fate during the short time she had left to live. Convinced that Beast planned to eat her that very evening, she decided to walk around the grounds and to explore the castle while awaiting her fate. She could not help but admire the castle’s beauty, and she was very surprised to find a door upon which was written: “Beauty’s Room.” She opened the door hastily and was dazzled by the radiant beauty of that room. She was especially impressed by a huge bookcase, a harpsichord, and various music books. “Someone does not want me to get bored!” she said softly. Then she realized: “If I had only one hour to live here, no one would have made such a fuss about the room.” This thought lifted her spirits.
She opened the bookcase and saw a book, on the cover of which was written in gold letters: “Your wish is our command. Here you are queen and mistress.”
“Alas,” she sighed, “I only wish to see my poor father again and to know what he’s doing now.”
She had said this to herself, so you can imagine how surprised she was when she looked in a large mirror and saw her father arriving at his house with a dejected expression. Her sisters went out to meet him, and, despite the faces they made in order to look as if they were distressed, they were visibly happy to have lost their sister. A moment later, everything in the mirror vanished. Beauty could not help thinking that Beast was most obliging and that she had nothing to fear from him.
At noon, Beauty found the table set and, during her meal, she heard an excellent concert, even though she could not see a soul. That evening, as she was about to sit down at the table, she heard Beast making noises, and she could not help but tremble.
“Beauty,” said the monster, “will you let me watch you dine?”
“You are my master,” said Beauty, trembling.
“No, you are the only mistress here,” replied Beast. “If I bother you, order me to go, and I will leave at once. Tell me, don’t you find me very ugly?”
“Yes, I do,” said Beauty. “I don’t know how to lie. But I do think that you are very kind.”
“You are right,” said the monster. “But in addition to being ugly, I also lack intelligence. I know very well that I am nothing but a beast.”
“You can’t be a beast,” replied Beauty, “if you know that you lack intelligence. A fool never knows that he is stupid.”
“Go ahead and eat, Beauty,” said the monster, “and try not to be bored in your house, for everything here is yours, and I would be upset if you were not happy.”
“You are very kind,” said Beauty. “I swear to you that I am completely pleased with your good heart. When I think of it, you no longer seem ugly to me.”
“Oh, of course,” Beast replied. “I have a kind heart, but I am still a monster.”
“There are certainly men more monstrous than you,” said Beauty. “I like you better, even with your looks, than men who hide false, corrupt, and ungrateful hearts behind charming manners.”
“If I were intelligent,” said Beast, “I would pay you a great compliment to thank you. But I am so stupid that all I can say is that I am very much obliged.”
Beauty ate with a good appetite. She no longer dreaded the monster, but she thought that she would die of fright when he said: “Beauty, would you be my wife?”
It took her a moment to get to the point of answering. She was afraid to provoke the monster by refusing him. Trembling, she said to him: “No, Beast.”
At that moment, the poor monster meant to sigh deeply, but he made such a frightful whistling sound that it echoed throughout the palace. Beauty felt better soon, however, because Beast, turning to look at her from time to time, left the room and said adieu in a sad voice. Finding herself alone, Beauty felt great compassion for poor Beast. “Alas,” she said, “it is too bad he is so ugly, for he is so kind.”
Beauty spent three peaceful months at the castle. Every evening, Beast paid her a visit and, while she was eating, entertained her with good plain talk, though not with what the world would call wit. Each day Beauty discovered new good qualities in the monster. Once she began seeing him every day, she became accustomed to his ugliness, and, far from fearing his arrival, she often looked at her watch to see if it was nine o’clock yet. Beast never failed to appear at that hour. There was only one thing that still bothered Beauty. The monster, before leaving, always asked her if she wanted to be his wife, and he seemed deeply wounded when she refused.
One day she said to him: “You are making me feel upset, Beast. I would like to be able to marry you, but I am far too honest to allow you to believe that that could ever happen. I will always be your friend. Try to be satisfied with that.”
“I will have to,” Beast replied. “I don’t flatter myself, and I know that I’m horrible looking, but I love you very much. However, I am very happy that you want to stay here. Promise me that you will never leave.”
Beauty blushed at these words. She had seen in her mirror that her father was sick at heart at having lost her. She had been hoping to see him again. “I can promise you that I will never leave you,” she said to Beast. “But right now I am so desperate to see my father again that I would die of grief if you were to deny me this wish.”
“I would rather die myself than cause you pain,” said Beast. “I will send you back to your father. Stay there, and your poor beast will die of grief.”
“No,” Beauty said, bursting into tears, “I love you too much to be the cause of your death. I promise to return in a week. You have let me see that my sisters are married and that my brothers have left to serve in the army. Father is living all alone. Let me stay with him for just a week.”
“You will be there tomorrow morning,” said Beast. “But don’t forget your promise. All you have to do is put your ring on the table before going to sleep when you want to return. Good-bye, Beauty.”
As was his habit, Beast sighed deeply after speaking, and Beauty went to bed feeling very sad to see him so dejected. The next morning, on waking up, she was in her father’s house. She pulled a cord at the side of her bed and a bell summoned a servant, who uttered a loud cry upon seeing her. The good man of the house came running when he heard the cry, and he almost died of joy when he saw his beloved daughter. They held each other tight for over a quarter of an hour. After the first wave of excitement subsided, Beauty realized that she didn’t have any clothes to go out in. But the servant told her that she had just discovered in the room next door a huge trunk full of silk dresses embroidered with gold and encrusted with diamonds. Beauty thanked Beast for his thoughtfulness. She took the least ornate of the dresses and told the servant to lock up the others, for she wanted to make a present of them to her sisters. Hardly had she spoken these words when the chest disappeared. When her father told her that Beast wanted her to keep everything for herself, the dresses and the chest reappeared on the spot.
While Beauty was getting dressed, her two sisters learned about her arrival and rushed to the scene with their husbands. Both sisters were very unhappy. The older one had married a remarkably handsome gentleman, but he was so enamored of his own looks that he spent all day in front of the mirror. The other one had married a man of great wit, but he used it to infuriate everybody, first and foremost his wife. Beauty’s sisters were so mortified that they felt ready to die when they saw her dressed like a princess and more beautiful than the bright day. Beauty tried in vain to shower them with attention, but nothing could restrain their jealousy, which only increased when Beauty told them how happy she was. These two envious women walked down to the garden so that they could weep freely. They both asked themselves: “Why should this little beast enjoy more happiness than we do? Aren’t we more likable than she is?”
“Dearest sister,” the older one said, “I have an idea. Let’s try to keep Beauty
here for more than a week. Her stupid beast will get angry when he sees that she has broken her promise, and maybe he’ll eat her up.”
“You’re right,” the other one replied. “To make that work, we will have to shower her with affection and act as if we are delighted to have her here.”
Having made this decision, the two nasty creatures returned to Beauty’s room and showed her so much affection that she nearly wept for joy. When the week had gone by, the two sisters started tearing out their hair and performed so well that Beauty promised to stay another four or five days. At the same time she felt guilty about the grief she was causing poor Beast, whom she loved with all her heart and missed seeing. On the tenth night she spent at her father’s house, she dreamed that she was in a garden of the palace when she saw Beast lying in the grass, nearly dead and reproaching her for her ingratitude. Beauty woke up with a start and began crying. “Aren’t I terrible,” she said, “for causing grief to someone who has done so much to please me? Is it his fault that he’s ugly and lacks intelligence? He is kind. That’s worth more than anything else. Why haven’t I wanted to marry him? I would be more happy with him than my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither good looks nor great wit that makes a woman happy with her husband, but character, virtue, and kindness, and Beast has all those good qualities. I may not be in love with him, but I feel respect, friendship, and gratitude toward him. If I were to make him unhappy, my lack of appreciation would make me feel guilty for the rest of my life.”